#take a shot everytime i mention the temperature | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darthwheezely · 4 years ago

Text

high noon - g.w.

summary: your favorite ranger of the West doesn’t take too kindly to people that try to take what’s his

pairing: cowboy!george x saloon dancer!reader

warnings: NSFW/SMUT MINORS DNI: unprotected sex, gun kink, oral sex (male receiving), mentions of possible prostitution, alcohol, gun violence, brief non consensual touching, pet kink (being called a foal and a mare), breeding kink, rough sex, fingering

THIGHS ARE LABELLED AS MILKY WHITE BECAUSE WHITE -ISH FULL BODY MAKEUP WAS V COMMON FOR CANCAN DANCERS

a/n: i actually wrote this back in february for my friend mads @lumosandnoxwriting and i just also wanted to share it here - also she gave me an idea for a part two so - hopefully that’ll be a thing sometime soon!

The saloon was crowded. A bit too crowded.

George didn’t like crowded,the amount of people in the saloon (really men, let’s be honest) always gave him a bit of a case of the jitters, his hand always sliding to his holster just to make sure his gun was still intact. He hated having witnesses in case something (or someone) went wrong.

Right now, his eyes were glued to you up on that stage, his hands shootin’ whiskey as he watched you on stage, your deep crimson dress flicking up as you kicked your legs. This was George’s favorite time, watching you in your tight corset and dress, kicking up and bending over and flashing your skivvies as his rum brown eyes focused on you like a hawk.

He had long thought about the way your chest was all the way pushed up and your thighs milky white and pulsing with vitality, and in fact had many a round with you in that state. Maybe it was the garish rouge on your cheeks or the way your hair bounced as you heaved in breaths, or maybe the way you smiled cheekily at the audience: but by God, you were doing a shit ton more than dancing tonight.

Your usual nights of lovemaking and fucking were upstairs above the stage and the saloon itself, the cheap beds in the inn and the smells of sweat and gunpowder in the air as you spent hours bouncing on him, your garters and corset the only things left on your body as you rode him like a bronco.

Tonight, though, things were a bit different. George had noticed you being sought after and stared at by none other than Sherriff Diggory. The boy had had an eye on you since he discovered you an unmarried woman, unable to keep his pockets and mouth away from the saloon owner, Mr. Carrow. Carrow saw you as the prize winner, and because of that, was incredibly forceful of Cedric’s advances.

George knew this, but tonight?

Enough was enough.

You had been kicking up your skirts and doing your usual routine, flashing an O shape of your mouth for extra spice at your lover, a smirk dripping from his mouth. However, his opponent Diggory decided he’d make a bold move as he watched you dance. With a flick of his tongue, he got on the edge of his seat and waited until you were all the way bent over, slapping your ass, the crowd roaring in hilarity. It was then that George snapped, your face tightly smiling to recover from the pain you’d been caused.

George fingered his holster and took another shot of his whiskey.

You made your way back to the front of the saloon with the other dancers, all of them cooing and laughing at Miss Y/N, the girl who got touched by Cedric Fuckin’ Diggory.

How grand.

The men had started to paw at you from the moment you got the gig. You were gorgeous, a light afresh in a dark corner. And the men knew that. You had locked eyes with George, you began to make your way over to him, when Cedric stepped in front of you.

“Miss Y/N, could I have a word?”

“Mr. Diggory, please I need to be on my way-“ you started sheepishly before he grabbed your arm.

“I don’t think you have the right to say no to me do you, girl?” He growled, before you heard the familiar click of a gun.

“I’m sorry, fella, what was that?” You turned to see your lover, your only man you willingly accepted into your bed with his pistol cocked directly at Cedric’s temple. Cedric dropped your arm and held his hands in the air.

“George, p-please it was just a-“

“Now, Ceddy, I think we both know a comment from a harassment and you’re a rich boy, and certainly not a dumb one,” he began to push his head and therefore, his body, towards the stage. All was silent in the saloon, the familiar piano and cleaning of glasses no longer a symphony. You watched your boyfriend, angry and tense, his arms practically bursting out of his button up shirt with the gun to your harassers head and had to bite your lip from groaning at the sight.

“Go on, pardner, dance for me,” George said stepping back behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your neck as he again motioned for Cedric to dance.

“Go on. Dance.” George spat. When Cedric refused to answer, George nodded to himself, smiling harshly, and firing shots all around Cedric’s feet, causing him to jump violently as to avoid getting shot at. The crowd in the saloon hollered with laughter at the man on the stage jumping frantically and screaming at the violent noises, and you felt your core tighten at the way George was holding your waist with one hand and ruining this man with the other. Your knees buckled at the feeling of George’s mouth on your neck before he finally slid the pistol back into his holster, and took your hand, sliding you away from the crowd.

Time to take you for a ride.

From the minute the door shut to the inn room, he was on you like a cat, his mouth angrily and roughly moving against yours while his calloused and adorned hands pressed you against the wall. He needed to claim you, his jealousy and anger swelling in his chest the entire night.

“Was my little foal excited to see me?” He murmured in your ear, his hands sliding up the back of your thighs to pick you up, his eyes drawn to the way your breasts heaved and were practically exposed to the entirety of him. He found your mouth again as he lifted you and brought you to the bed, his hands already working at the stays of your dress, pulling the bodice and skirt off completely - leaving you in only garters, skivvies, and your corset.

“Y/N, you liked that didn’t you?” He chuckled running his hands along the smooth skin of your thighs.

“Liked what, Georgie?” You whispered breathily. He looked directly at you and slapped your thighs, your gasp and the reverberated noise echoing in the room.

“Don’t be cute, you liked how I was firing my shooter at Cedric, didn’t you?” His lips curled in a sly grin as he watched your eyes widen in embarrassment.

“N-no, Georgie, of course not,” you whined shaking your head vehemently. He tutted and dragged a finger up your clothed core, watching your eyes flutter close.

“Hmm. I think you’re lying, baby,” he purred, his hands picking up from her legs and to his holster, toying with the gun in his hands.

“I think you liked it.” He grinned wider as you shifted, the embarrassment that your thighs had indeed been soaked to the brim with arousal, clear to George as he dipped his fingers into your dripping cunt, his thumb orbiting on your clit as you arched your back.

“Go on, princess, tell me how much you love my gun,” he pressed his thumb harder onto your clit as you cried out weakly.

“Y-yes, Georgie, love your pistol so much, love when you cock it, please” you weakly tried to pull yourself up but George was always faster. In an instant he pressed the unloaded gun to the center of your chest.

“You trust me, baby?” He cooed.

“Always, Georgie.” You whimpered, nodding. He licked his bottom lip and began dragging the pistol around your breasts to your nipple pushing and flicking the hardened bud lightly.

“George, touch me, please” you gasped, your back screaming from how far you were pushing it up. He just shook his head and chuckled the barrel of the gun drifting until it was dipping under your panties, a high whine eliciting from your throat.

“Y/N, baby, you want these off?”

“Mhm…”

“Then you gotta beg, baby.”

“George, please, I need you to, been wanting and waiting so bad,” he began to toy with your skivvies, slowly pulling them down.

“Who were you dancing for up there, baby? Was it Cedric? Or Carrow? Or Adrian? Or Fred even?”

“No, Georgie, just you, only ever for you - oh” George had dipped the gun into you, your pussy finally clenching around what it needed. His pistol was warm, temperature fresh from being shot at the Diggory bastard not but an hour ago. George was moving it deliciously in your cunt, moving you like a stand up doll, controlling every mechanization of your body with every thrust.

“George, please, let me suck your cock,” you moved to sit up and this time George let you, immediately pulling the gun from your cunt and letting it hang on your bottom lip. His mouth was watering as you immediately began to lick the barrel, tasting yourself on the pistol, before he sank it into your mouth. He’d swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful, his woman with his gun in her mouth, sucking like it was a lollipop. Her hands crept to his pants and he didn’t say no, he wanted it, needed it even, to have his cock freed. Your hands went to his bare cock and used your thumb to draw tight but soft circles on his tip. He threw his head back and moaned and pulled the pistol from your mouth.

“Got another barrel I need you to suck, baby cakes,” he winked and your cunt clenched around nothing at his lewd joke. You began kitten licking his cockhead, watching as a line of saliva pulled from your mouth before sliding your lips further down where he needed you. Your hands came to wrap around the flesh you couldn’t reach, and the sounds of his sinful groans and gasps only spurred you on. You bobbed your mouth around him, taking in the taste of him, he tasted like he always did, of Amber whiskey and cheap spice - but to you he tasted like the finest wine you’d ever drank. Sucking on George was a luxury experience, and you relished it everytime.

He started fucking into your mouth and throat, his massive length pushing further into you where you needed it, but gagging around him nonetheless. He loudly gasped and fisted your hair, pulling you harder.

“Fuck, Y/N, just...just taking me so good, love how sinful you look, sucking on me like that.” You hummed around him, the vibrations thrumming around his body. He quickly took one of his hands from your hair and picked up his pistol, bringing it to your clit.

“Babygirl gets a treat, ain’t that right?” He chuckled breathily, his pistol pressing harder on your clit as he was pushed on by your whines. The pistol was toying with you like the man in your mouth, but you could feel his release coming, his telltale signs and sounds erupting all in front of you.

“That’s it, my precious mare, good job,Y/N, good fucking job,” he praised harshly, his hips sloppily jolting in your mouth.

“Oh God, oh fuck, Y/N” he groaned, and with a cry of your name he had barely enough time to pull back and shoot his ammunition down your throat, both his guns pressing where you needed them, bringing you to your release as well. He watched you swallow all of him, his cock already more than half hard at the sight alone, plus his pistol was soaked with you, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean, his eyes on you the whole time.

When he was done he began to undress, his shirt coming off and bearing the brand of when he was imprisoned for dueling in the streets, and the number 5 in Roman numerals - a sign that he was the fifth son of the Weasley clan, a harbored and hallowed family of the West. There was never a time where you didn’t let your eyes drape over every scar and bruise from his daily fights and duels and scuffles. He was a fallen angel, and you his demonic love.

You feverishly helped him strip, giggling at the way your hands pried and peeled clothes from his body, and when he was completely naked, he pinned you back on the bed. His mouth began to suck unholy bruises and marks on the tops of your breasts (“so everyone knows who’s dancing for me”) and his finger trailed a delicate line down the center of your torso to your clit, you whining at the overstimulation.

“Georgie, Georgie need your-“

“I know, baby, I know,” he said softly, prsssing a kiss to your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip. He took his cock in one hand stroking it three times before lining himself up at your entrance, enjoying how you squirmed your hips to try and get him inside you as much as you could.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He quipped, pushing just his tip in her and gasping at the connection.

“Seems you’re just as needy as me, Georgie” you smirked and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in halfway from the pressure. You both moaned lewdly, and it took everything in to pull him out and slam back in, finally fucking into you the way you needed it.

The pace he set was violent, a symphony of skin slapping, you could feel every throb and pulse of his cock inside you as he fucked relentlessly into you. He was hitting every nerve, every sensory bud in your body, and with every thrust and snap of his hips you gasped for breath. He hiked a leg up on one of his shoulders.

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Give you a big fucking litter of my colts?” He growled into your earlobe.

“P-please, George, need so many colts” you whined, him switching arms as he brought up the other leg to his shoulder.

“Yeah? Gonna fill up a whole fucking ranch just with my litter? My babies prancing around in your tummy?” He grunted, circling your clit again. He was close but he would do everything in his power to send you over the edge. He braced your thighs and slapped them hard.

“C’mon, my pretty mare, buck those hips. Gonna prove to me you can handle all my little foals.” You cried out loudly as your stallion sent the last of your strength out the window, your legs and cunt squeezing in a crescendo around him. It was electric, your body seeming to pull him in as fast and hard as you could go. Your nails dug into his back, leaving blood dripping with the brunt force of you.

He continued to fuck into you, your cunt growing sensitive with every push. You knew he was inching you towards your third release, and his his second, his hips and thrust growing sloppier by the second.

“Gonna fucking breed you, need to, baby, please-“

“Yes, George, yes, give me all your colts, love” you cooed. He cried out a loud and rough bark of your name and painted your walls with his release. At the feeling of being filled and being filled alone, you came with him, your juices mixing as you both clutched each other’s bodies. You drank in his warmth of his body, kissing the side of his neck as he slowly rolled his hips forward to accommodate your highs. He went to pull out but you stopped him.

“Not yet,” you whispered. He slid his hands to your cheeks and stroked the apples and kissed you gently.

“Guess we’re gonna have to ride out to the preacher than huh? Can’t have my girl dancing in a cancan house forever, not pregnant.” He whistled softly, his jaunty smirk settling into a soft smile.

“Honey, I-“ you stopped him by taking his hand and pressing it to your tummy.

“Get ready for a ranch, Weasley. You’re gonna need it.”

He chuckled and leaned in.

idk whoever might enjoy this rn: @wandsandwheezes @amxrtentias @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @pandaxnienke @whizboingies @wzrd-wheezes @loony-loopy-lupinn

#George weasley #George weasley x reader #George weasley smut #cowboy!george #yeehaw #Fred and George #the weasley twins #Harry Potter #George weasley fic

342 notes · View notes

hoshiwhxre · 4 years ago

Text

Such a Good Little Girl. (kjk)

Kim Junkyu ; Such a Good Little Girl

{ requested ; "when,,, can you like uhhhhhh maybe write uhhh junkyu + corruption kink + size kink pleaseeeeeee" }

description: Junkyu wants nothing more than to corrupt the little sister of his best friend. He dreams about making you his personal whore, fucking you until you're shaking mess. He knows you want him too, he knows what he does to you, and eventually, he finds himself unable to resist you any longer.

typ: dom!junkyu x fem!reader

rating: NSFW

warnings: corruption!kink , size!kink , overst!mulation , male!receiving, fem!receiving , degradat!on , power!play , slight exh!bitionism , unprotected!sex , oral!sex just lots and lots of smut l o l

word count: 4.4k

He’d never forget the first day he met you. That pastel pink dress grazing your mid thigh, those big round eyes gazing up at him, a sweet smile that always followed the lightest giggle. He remembered your stare following across the room, blushing everytime he satisfied your curiosities with a smirk or a sparkle. With each fluster under his dark eyes, a surge of adrenaline shot through his heart. God, how he'd do anything to corrupt that pretty little body of yours. He knew he could so easily command you, and he shivered at the thought of towering over you while you begged him to just fuck you.

He took the obvious power he had over you for advantage, revelling in your stammered reaction to his hand brushing your waist, or his breath tickling the back of your neck as his body pressed intimately against you.

Every little thing he did made you feel unusually hot, your thighs constantly pressed tight to keep your wet core from dripping down your skin. He caused your stomach to knot, your heart pounding everytime he held your gaze. You felt dizzy and weak whenever he was around.

But his silent teasing, no matter how much it dominated your entire body, lead to nothing. You were his best friend's little sister, and he knew that the things he was desperate to do to you were off the cards.

Well, they were until that day.

"Move up," Jihoon demanded, striding towards the sofa, "we want to watch the game."

He was approaching too quickly for you too argue, and you hurriedly scooched along the leather, dragging your notes to the side and sighing impatiently.

"Junkyu's here too, so make room," Jihoon waved his hand, indicating for you to either go upstairs or allow for more space.

The mention of your brother's friend's name made you tense, your heart stopping, filling you with a swarm of dizzying butterflies. Your eyes rose, meeting his familiar soft features as they stepped into the living room. You obediently moved up, gaze attempting to remain on your textbook as Junkyu slowly approached. Feeling him fall down between you and Jihoon, your breath caught, trying to act as though his presence wasn't heating your body up to unimaginable temperatures. His legs spread a little, his thigh brushing intimately against yours, and your eyes rolled back beneath your lids. His figure was still so much taller than you, even while sitting down, and you stole a glance at his large hands resting loosely between his legs. Glancing up, Junkyu's lips twitched, noticing your eyes dart hurriedly back to your book. His tongue passed over his lip as his orbs grazed over the big hoodie drowning your body, your small fingers playing absent mindedly with glossy pages.

"Who's playing?" Junkyu drawled.

You shivered, his deep voice sending shocks to your tightening core.

"We're playing against France," Jihoon replied, flicking through the channels.

With a nod, Junkyu dragged his hand towards his knee, his veins flexing beneath his smooth skin, drawing your breathless attention immediately down. You cursed yourself inwardly for how easily he distracted you, insisting you should leave, that you couldn't take anymore of the things he made you feel.

"They're doing so badly," Jihoon groaned, loudly, leaning forward to place a more intense concentration on the game.

As he did, Junkyu's hand slipped down, grazing over your bare skin as his touch danced across your leg. Your lips fell open, stifling a gasp as his palm flattened firmly against your thigh, his thumb beginning to rub light circles into your goosebumped skin. Your eyes shot up, making sure Jihoon couldn't see, before darting towards Junkyu's head turned lazily towards the screen. Your breath was growing heavy, as his palm began gliding further up, pushing beneath your hoddies thick material.

"If he'd just passed it to him, they could have made that goal," Junkyu drawled.

His fingers pushed up, grazing over your panties, and your breath hitched, watching his lips curl into a smirk - knowing he could feel your arousal beginning to seep through the thin material. He pressed in lightly, his touch hovering over your clothed clit, and ever so slightly your hips lifted up, struggling to control your body from magnetising to his grip. You could see stars, your judgement completely overwhelmed with arousal - and feeling him begin to retract, your hand shot down, desperately holding him in place. Junkyu's eyebow cocked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, feeling your small fingers dig into his large hand. Scoffing, his orbs shone with a playful glisten, as he guided your panties to the side. His stare floated over your brother, making sure he wouldn't see as Junkyu dragged two warm digits between your folds. Your teeth sank into your lip, a sharp pleasure controlling your chest as he ran a teasing circle over your pleading clit. Feeling you so wet for him made him shiver with excitement. Just as he applied pressure to the sensitive skin, your thighs clenched around his wrist, not used to the raw sensation now consuming your core. A satisfied grin licking at his mouth, Junkyu continued to play lightly with your clit, circular motions accompanied by slight squeezes and soft scratches. The new pleasure was fast climbing through stomach, hitting your chest with a breathy moan you immediately muffled with a cough.

"If you're ill you can go upstairs," Jihoon called, attention thankfully still fixed on the screen.

"I'm fine," you croaked, your weak voice bringing a smug delight to Junkyu's spine. He could feel you twitching, writhing beside him, your pleasure uncontrollable as he allowed his roughening movements to fasten on your throbbing clit. Your fingers collapsed against his hand, your teeth pulling at your lip in sheer desperation. A strange sensation was beginning to engulf you, shooting through your body, flying to your brain, getting higher, and higher, and suddenly...

No.

Junkyu's hand dragged from between your tensed thighs, leaving you with an unfair emptiness to override the previous pleasure. Lazily, he brushed his fingers through his hair as if nothing had happened, leaving your stilled body breathless beside him. You didn't dare look, afraid you'd explode if Junkyu met your gaze with those deeply intense eyes. Swallowing to rejuvenate your dry mouth, your trembling arms hauled yourself up, forcing a stammered salutation before rushing hurriedly from the room.

"What's her issue?" Jihoon frowned, "was she okay?"

Shrugging, Junkyu's stare danced over the empty doorway, his tongue pressing into his teeth in a desperate attempt to control the adrenaline surging through his heart.

"I think so," he murmured, "she seemed pretty happy."

You, meanwhile, were holding shakily onto the kitchen's marble counters, your head so low it was nearly breaking from it's neck. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding against it like a prisoner. Every technique in the book had been tried to calm yourself down, but fuck, Junkyu's fingers were burnt into your memory, the tingles replaying through your core while your lids encased his smirk in your eyes.

The sound of your front door slamming shut shocked you from your daze, and you released a wheezy breath of relief. He'd gone. You no longer had to bear the thought of him sitting in the other room, completely unattainable for the desires you found yourself desperate for. Almost as soon as Junkyu had left your mind, he was back again, thickening the arousal that was once more pooling between your legs. As if controlled by magic, your hand was lowering, body pressed against the kitchen counter as you slipped beneath your hoodie, eyes misting as soon as you felt your wet drip from your panties. You wanted to touch yourself, to cum right here, to release yourself from this despair he'd left you in.

But your hand immediately retracted, remembering where you were and what you were about to do. You couldn't.

"It's okay, just do it, imagine your fingers are mine, princess." That low drawl sent your core into fiery mania, and you immediately spun around, shaky gaze falling on Junkyu's familiar smirk leaning against the kitchen doorway. You choked on your words, your breath scratching your throat.

"What's up, y/n? Cat's got your tongue?" slowly, he began to approach, dark eyes watching you intently, "what have I done to you, hm? Touching yourself right here, I've really got you that desperate?"

Your heavy breath met his chest as his palms pressed into the kitchen side, trapping you in. He bowed down, soft lips hovering over yours as he forced you against the cold metal of drawer's handles.

"Junkyu," you whispered.

"That's my name," he tilted his head, watching you melt before him, "say it again if you want. In fact, why don't you scream it?"

You whimpered, and Junkyu laughed, reaching up to brush your hair behind one ear. His jaw cocked towards yours, his eyes trained on the lower half of your face, and you suddenly nodded, palms shooting up to hook behind his neck. He immediately satisfied your desire, moulding his mouth against yours while his hands firmly snatched up your waist. Feeling Junkyu's tongue slip between your lips, you met him with a soft moan, allowing him to guide you slowly from the counter. His tall body dominated you easily, silently ordering you to move with it, his heavy palms keeping you tight to his chest.

"B-But Jihoon..." you mumbled.

"He's gone to pick Jaehyuk up," Junkyu purred, beginning to guide you towards the staircase, "let's hope he's away long enough to finish what I started earlier."

You whined in agreement as he pushed his mouth once more to yours, deepening the kiss as you both staggered to the second floor. Eyes flickering around, Junkyu targeted your room immediately, roughly shoving you over the threshold and kicking the door shut behind him. He paused for a moment, taking in your awating body stood before him. He'd waited so long to see you submissive for him, completely overcome with lust, waiting for him to just fuck you.

"You're always such a good little girl, aren't you?" Junkyu breathed, eyes darkening as he stepped towards you, his palm reaching out to push your hoodie into the curves of your body. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over the skin just below your ear, the tip of his tongue drawing slow, delicate circles. You moaned quietly, head tilting to the side as his teeth pricked you with a small bite. Mouth raising to your ear, his warm breath forcing them to twitch with anticipation, he chuckled.

"I'm going to make you my own dirty fucking whore."

You weakened against him, legs threatening to give way, lust consuming your every limb. Thoughts and desires you'd never felt in your entire life were spilling from your brain, yearning for Junkyu to abuse his power over you.

"Please," you whimpered, "I-I'll do anything for you..."

"You want me that bad, huh?" Junkyu smirked, his fingers brushing through your hair before abruptly snatching it back, "you won't even remember what innocence felt like when I'm finished with you."

Your moans hitched, as his hand guided your firmly to your knees.

"Yes sir..."

Through hooded lids, you breathlessly watched him unbuckle and unzip his jeans, before holding out one steady palm. Your fingers took his obediently, a soft gasp sounding between your lips while he slowly slid your hand from the toned muscles of his lower stomach, to beneath the black material of his boxers. Grazing his hard shaft with an eager touch, you met Junkyu's sparkling eyes, and his lips curled into a satisfied grin as you almost immediately freed his cock from the cloth.

"Aren't you an eager little slut? Hm? Can't you wait to have my cock in your mouth? Open up for me, baby."

Your lips parted, gazing up with big eyes as he took a firm hold of his stiff cock, pressing it against your flattened tongue with a hiss. One palm rested against the back of your head, fingers lightly massaging your scalp, as his hips drove slowly forward, pushing his cock deep between your cheeks. Hollowing immediately, your tongue wrapped around it’s shaft, tracing the veins as it approached the back of your throat. Forcing your head down, he encouraged you to take every inch, a low groan releasing as you gagged, setting the pace to exactly how he liked. Your nails dug into your thighs, lids screwing shut as his girth locked your jaw open wide. Every few moments, Junkyu would force your head to the base, holding you down to watch the strings of spit roll down your chin as you choked. Your eyes watered with his growingly faster thrusts, hips now bucking against your mouth as he fucked your face. With each thrust, Junkyu grunted a soft “fuck”, his fingers wrapped in your locks, his head rolling onto his shoulder with satisfied smirk. Your lids were drooping, eyes rolling back, your lips reddening from the friction of his cock passing back and forth, back and forth. By the second he seemed to enlarge against your tongue, his cock beginning to twitch uncontrollably, and yet he didn’t weaken once, his grip remaining firm, his hips remaining rhythmic. As your ears filled with his breathy groan, your head was abruptly yanked back, allowing you to suck in a shaky breath of air. Chest heaving, Junkyu gazed down through hooded eyes at the spit staining your chin, at the mascara beginning to collect beneath your lashes, and he reached down to graze his thumb over your trembling lower lip.

“What would your brother say if he knew how much of a desperate whore you are for me?” he said gruffly, sharply pinching your chin between thumb and forefinger, “stand up.”

Legs shaky, you stumbled to your feet, remaining still as Junkyu strode slowly around your pathetic figure. His eyes raked your every detail, before he lowered down on the edge of your mattress, lazily leaning back against his palms.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

Your fingers immediately snatched down, curling beneath the hem of your hoodie to fumble it over your head, revealing a lacy bra and panties for Junkyu’s stare to consume. Throat dry, he swallowed, a rush of dizzying arousal completely knocking him off guard, and his hand lowered to find his hard cock brushing against his lower abdomen. Stroking it slowly, he watched as you removed each item of lingerie, your body small and bare for him to easily ruin.

“What’s up, baby?” Junkyu teased, meeting your pleading, needy eyes as they held the sight of his cock leaking with pre cum, “you want me to fuck you? Do you? Why don’t you get on your knees and beg me.”

Once more, you fell to the floor, fingers sinking into the carpet as you steadily crawled towards his spread thighs, yearning to touch him again.

“Please,” you whimpered, “fuck me, please.”

“Oh, that’s not good enough,” Junkyu purred, tilting his head, “try harder, angel.”

“Junkyu please,” your voice cracked, “I need you so badly, I want you inside of me I...”

Patting his thigh, Junkyu nodded once, eyes sparkling as he spoke the demand.

“Come for a test ride,” he murmured.

You climbed up, his legs shifting slightly to provide you with a more comfortable seat on his lap. His palms took hold of your waist, raising your torso to hover you momentarily of his erect cock. Meeting your eyes, one hand guided the tip deep beneath the dripping folds of your pussy, allowing your arousal to wrap eagerly around his shaft. Easily, he pressed your body a few inches down, and your fingers shot out to dig deep into your shoulders, gasping sharply.

“W-Wait,” you stammered, “it hurts, i-it’s too big...”

Eyes flickering with a surge of pleasure, Junkyu nodded.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.

Your head immediately shook, tilting your hips a little to allow a few more inches in, the sting of his cock stretching your pussy forcing you to still.

“I’m a virgin,” your voice was hushed, “is that...is that okay?”

“I know,” Junkyu’s warm breath tickled your lips, “are you sure you want to carry on?”

“Yes...a-ah...” your voice caught as you winced, Junkyu encouraging you to take the remainder of his length, “J-Junkyu...”

Your sweet voice singing his name filled his ears, overcome with lust as you struggled to contain his girth. He travelled his touch over the curves of your body, moulding your breaths in his fingers before returning to your stiff, anxious hips.

“See how it feels, baby,” Junkyu breathed, beginning to securely lift your hips, watching your features contort as his cock slid once more deep into your pussy. Continuing the pace, he allowed you to adjust, before you began to relax into him, hips winding in coordination to his guidance.

“Hm, you like that? Is my cock stretching your tight little pussy?” Junkyu’s lips misted over yours, grunting as you began to wind your hips needily against his cock, using his shoudlers to steady your balance and fuel your careful bounces. Your body curled into his chest, your breath heavy against his skin, as you grew more evidently desperate. The pleasurable pain of his cock hitting your guts was working up a thicker arousal deep within your core, and suddenly you were riding him faster, allowing him to drive deeper, your chest twisting with a gentle whine.

“Riding my cock like the dirty slut that you are,” Junkyu grunted, readily tugging his shirt over his head, “you desperate fucking whore.”

And suddenly his strong arms were forcing you to stop, hooking beneath your thighs and hauling you up as he rose to his feet, causing a fragile whimper to leave your lips. Your heart palpitated at the new found power that was filling his gaze, sinful flashes decorating his brown orbs. His cock stilled inside of you, he paced a few steps to slam you hard against the nearest bedroom wall, a shock of pain dancing down your spine. Your arms wrapped magnetically around his neck, and without a moments rest Junkyu drove is hips up into your pussy, immediately setting a vigorous pace that left you unable to make a coherant sound. His cock snapped fast and deep inside of you, reaching between your guts, grazing your G-spot. Your heavy breath buried in his neck, whining against his warm skin as Junkyu’s gritted teeth allowed him to concentrate on keeping the rhythm of his hips pounding into your pussy. With each thrust, he brushed your clit now throbbing between your folds, sending new sensations rushing through your tensed up veins.

“What’s my name?” Junkyu growled in your twitching ear, “let me hear you say my fucking name.”

His name dripped from your lips like candy, as your nails dug into the back of his neck, and his teeth pricked at the sensitive skin just below your ear. You could feel his cock beginning to twitch against your walls, throbbing harder and harder the faster his hips reduced the space between your bodies. His breath hitched, and he moulded his lips messily against yours, silencing the groans that threatened to escape. His rhythm faltered, momentum failing him as his chest contorted with the prospect of orgasm. Your moans croaked and cried against his mouth, your eyes rolling behind your lids, as he aggressively chased his high. His fingers tightened around your thighs, your body banging against the wall, and his teeth pulled at your tongue, just as he purred a groaned curse. Tensing, he hissed in pleasure, as he came buried deep within your walls. Soon, his hips gradually slowed to deep, steady thrusts, and your head fell against his shoulder, panting, as his cum dripped down the inside of your thighs. For a moment, his lips played breathlessly with your shouder, giving him the time to regain a little more energy, recovering from the intense orgasm. Allowing you back to the floor, Junkyu brushed your hair from your red cheeks, a smirk drawing across his features.

“I’m not done with you yet, babygirl,” he whispered heavily, snatching up your waist, chuckling as you weakly allowed him to control your limbs like putty, spinning you around and shoving you down first first to the mattress. Your fingers curled into the sheets, as you felt him kneel behind you, the large surface of his palms attaching to your ass. A sharp gasp stammered against the mattress as he landed a hard smack against one cheek, followed by a 2nd, a 3rd, a 4th, a stinging pain engulfing the entire area.

“Tsk, you’re nothing but a needy little slut, God you just gave into me so easily didn’t you, hm?” a 5th slap shocked your body, and you stifiled a melodic moan, “oh, you like that? You like being punished like the nasty whore you are?”

Junkyu’s deep voice was followed by his hands flipping you carelessly over, meeting your weak eyes with a deep, steady stare. Your hands fluttered down your stomach, pleadingly beginning to touch your sensitive pussy, crying for him. His eyebrow immediately cocked, snatching up your wrists with a low tut and bringing them high above your head.

“Bad girl,” he sucked in a breath, “who gave you permission to touch yourself? If you’re not careful, I might not let you cum.”

Your back arched, his fingers trailing deep inside your pussy, wrapping his digits in the remainder of his thick cum. Pulling them up your body, he hovered them over your lips, groaning as you obediently curled your tongue hungrily around them, lapping up his cum. As you licked the remainder from his finger tips, your small hand curling into his palm, allowing his digits to slip deeper into your mouth, Junkyu began to pepper open mouthed kisses down your cool stomach, tracing his lips further and further down your body. With his free hand, he caressed your twitching inner thigh, allowing his tongue and teeth to play teasingly with it’s skin, glancing up to greedily watch you suck at his fingers. His mouth was now dangerously approaching your pussy, and your hips shifted slightly, begging for him to please you properly. Your eagerness made him shiver with joy, and he detached his fingers from your mouth, lowering them to spread the folds of your pussy wide. He met your low gaze, smirking as his tongue slowly slipped between your slit, trailing up the wet mess of your pussy to begin pulsating light, irregular shapes over your throbbing clit. Your hands snatching into the bed sheets, you moaned a loud, desperate whine. Fuck it felt too good. All you could think about was him, him and only him. His lips now wrapping around your clit, two digits joining your overwhelming pleasure as they pushed deep inside your pussy, you cried out his name, completely giving in to his flickering tongue. Your pussy fluttered against his lips, hips seizing against his mouth to catch your high that you so crazily craved. Your stomach felt like it was on fire, your thighs clenching, and your chest shot up in a sharp breathed choke. His tongue played mercilessly with your clit, shooting an acute, cutting pleasure up your core. Your hands stumbled to find his hair in your shaking shivers, following the bobs of his head as he began to messily lap at your dripping cunt. You were beginning to shudder with orgasm, as your core snatched up a sudden knot, the orgasm expanding in your stomach getting bigger, bigger, your head getting lighter, lighter. Your sight filled with stars, your lips slightly parted, as your hips suddenly twitched, a warmth beginning to spread through your pussy, reaching your core like a tsunami. Your muscles tensed, contracting abruptly, and your voice caught in your throat, before the product of an intense orgasm rushed out in a loud, breathy moan. You pulled at Junkyu’s hair, his tongue twirling your clit, riding out your high until the pain of overstimulation took over your limbs. Feeling you twitch and shudder beside his head, he gazed up, staring deep into your weak, teary eyes, and his smirk engulfed your clit. You writhed against the mattress, back arching further to control the sensations that were mechanically sending your muscles into overwhelmed mania.

“J-Junkyu, please, I can’t take anymore,” you whined, breath wheezy.

He held your eyes, pushing further into your cunt, his lips and tongue providing your clit with intense attention. You were already beginning to feel the same crashing of orgasm, your moans turning into “yes, yes, yes, o-oh, Junkyu”, that provided his pride an immense, satisfying ego boost. Once more, knots were building like lego inside your core, hurriedly tensing to meet your orgasm with the same pleasurable friction as before. Soon, your head filled with mist, unable to think straight as you shook with the 2nd stinging orgasm. Fuck. Heat pooled your core, meeting the knots with a powerful contraction, as your muscles snatched up the insane pleasure now sending endorphins rushing through your veins. You mewled in agreement, as the rush of orgasm shot into core, Junkyu’s tongue holding you out to the end of your body shaking high.

As you collapsed against the mattress, Junkyu detached his lips from your stunned clit, rising to brush his hands softly up your chest. He smiled slightly, admiring your frail, fucked out figure lying beneath him, and slowly he pressed a delicate kiss to your feeble lips.

“You did so well,” he mumbled.

Your limp arms snaked around his neck, as he lowered to keep your body safe with his broad chest. He could feel your wheezy panting against his cheek, and he offered you sweet, reassuring kisses along your shoulder, giving you a few moments to regain yourself. As soon as your breathing began to normalise, he rolled onto his back, tugging you into a loose, intimate embrace. You buried your face in his chest, using his smooth skin to relax you, and your fingers began to trace gentle circles over the muscles of his lower stomach.

“Did you like it?” Junkyu asked, quietly, playing lightly with your hair.

Glancing up, your small smile between a pair of flushed cheeks glistened in his fond gaze.

“I liked it a lot,” you giggled, your tired voice making his brow furrow in concern.

“Was I too rough?” Junkyu murmured, “did I hurt you?”

Pulling your body a little further up, you fluttered a kiss on his cheek, features blissful as you allowed your head to cuddle into his neck.

“It was perfect.”

#junkyu smut #treasure smut #treasure junkyu #yg silver boys smut #kim junkyu smut #junkyu #kim junkyu #treasure

507 notes · View notes

equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Drowning is amazing! Please continue!!!

Thank you! I am glad that you like it!

And I wrote it. It's a late post though, sorry.

Drowning Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

@shydragonrider

Warnings: feverish whumpee, drugged whumpee, head trauma mention, pneumonia, pills (antibiotics), exhaustion, betrayal, talk of medical settings, mentions of attempted murder, anxiety, thoughts of anticipated retribution, nightmares

Hero scrambled to her feet, nervousness eating at her stomach. There was Villain, standing six feet tall and raging with anger, in her doorway. Not only did he look like he just went on a killing frenzy, he had a knife.

A knife and a true intent to kill.

"Villain," Hero cautioned, approaching the tall man. He glared, snarling down at Hero.

"I know you have him, Hero," he said, not even acknowledging Hero's quiet plea to step down. "Now, where is he before I bomb the place."

Hero noted that he still had a hospital gown on. His right forearm had blood dripping down it- the remnants of where he had ripped the IV out. The side of his head was still stitched up and hued in a deep royal purple shade. His damaged right eye was swollen, but not nearly as bruised as his temple.

"Where is he!" Villain hollered again and rushed at Hero. He stumbled a little bit and swayed as if a dense feeling of nausea washed over him- and considering the state of the villain's head, she wouldn't be surprised if he was indeed nauseous.

"He isn't here," Hero lied, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it.

"I know you took him home with you," Villain clenched his jaw, the bruise pulsating. "Why else wouldn't you visit me earlier?"

"Villain, I did visit you earlier," Hero tried to reason. "Remember?"

"No, no, no," Villain shook his head. "Only doctors and needles and fogginess and..." His voice trailed off ad his gaze darkened. "Not you."

"I'm sorry," Hero apologized, grabbing the villain's hands. She felt the knife loosening, but Villain didn't let go. Both breathed deeply, trying to calm themselves. Hero couldn't afford to get protective- if that was the correct word- and if Villain blew up again, by golly she would be.

But, the villain was obviously on another page. He suddenly punched Hero in the stomach, jabbed her jaw with the hilt, and lumbered into the house.

Hero doubled over, panting for breath as she tried to reorientate herself. After a good minute of puffing out breaths, she followed Villain.

She found him slamming his hip into her bedroom room. Instinctively, Hero lept on top of him, pulling him back. Thoughts rushed through her head. She had no means of restraints other than a pair of handcuffs in the bathroom cabinet- don't ask. She didn't even have a good enough room to lock such an explosive person in.

She had to take the handcuff route and somehow lead the maniac into the bathroom. Linking her arms around Villain's armpits, she attempted to drag the thrashing man down the hall, but, half-drugged and injured or not, he was still much taller and much bigger. He dug his heels deep into the hardwood floor and grit his teeth. He was going to kill Supervillain if it was the last thing he would do, and nothing, not even someone like Hero would stop him.

He yanked himself out of Hero's grasp and face planted into a wall, knocking down a sunset painting that Hero herself did. He weakly tried to use his arms to push himself back up, but they trembled and collapsed under his weight.

Hero returned her arms back to the position that caused Villain so much strife and dragged him. The villain had clearly exhausted himself to the point of compliance, so it really was an effortless task. She brought him to the bathroom, leaned his now lolling head against the baby blue wall and grabbed her horribly placed handcuffs. Putting them on deftly, she crouched down next to Villain.

"You are supposed to be in the hospital, you know," she lightly scolded him.

"I know," came the reply, so timid that Hero couldn't even correspond the rabid wolf that entered her den with the completely subdued fawn resting in her bathroom. His eyes were closing, too weary to stay open.

"Let's go get some sleep," Hero offered and pulled Villain to his shaky feet. But as she led him to the door, she noticed that he would not be able to make it to the living room without collapsing, so she scooped him up. Now that he was just hanging there limply, it was easy- there wasn't a fight, just complete and utter trust to allow the other to care for the wounded and exhausted one.

Once Villain was settled upon the couch, sleeping soundly, Hero went back upstairs to check on Supervillain. Unlocking the door with the key that worked for every lock, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Hero scrunched up her nose. After spending sometime in fresh, lavender scented air, the revolting scent of sickness and sweat was like a trash can that had to be taken out to the curb.

But nonetheless, she walked over to the unconscious supervillain. His face was even paler, signifying that his fever spiked again, and he was shivering profoundly. She tossed another blanket over him and performed the hourly task of slipping the thermometer under his tongue. It beeped and like everytime, it revealed a nerve-wracking temperature.

Hero ran her hand through the grimey hair with a sigh and knelt down next to him. He was getting worse. Heck, he hardly looked like he was breathing, yet the consistent rise and collapse of his chest proved otherwise. Silent whimpers slipped through barely parted lips, a little trail of saliva streamed over parched lips. Eyes were closed, but barely. Hero could see distressed pupils shifting about as placid facial expressions contorted into ones of utter misery and pain.

"Hey," Hero whispered, grabbing his boiling hand. It didn't nothing to stop the unconscious torture Supervillain was enduring. His breaths sped up and he started to outwardly gasp, but never awoke.

"Supervillain?" Hero's voice was risen in pitch. "Hey, now. Wake up for me." She shook him, tapped repeatedly at his flushed cheeks, but nothing seemed to work.

Until he bolted up screaming.

No. Screaming was not the correct word for the desperate screech that tore itself away from Supervillain's face. It filled every crevice of the room- possibly even the house- with the haggard voice of terror. It made Hero cringe, her tired body jumping backwards. After the screaming festival was over with, Supervillain resumed a crying sound. Sobs turned into coughs as the sick man dealt with both illness from the pneumonia and whatever fear drove him into such a defensive fright.

Hero wrapped her arm around Supervillain, lethargically seating herself next to him. He turned his body over and pressed his face into Hero's side, relishing in the warming comfort it brought with a contented sigh. Soon after, he fell back asleep, mouth parting to draw in more precious oxygen.

Hero leaned against the pillow, allowing her ward to sleep cuddled up to her. Her own eyelids drooped, reminding her of the dire need to sleep. She contemplated sleeping next to the supervillain, but once Villain awoke it would be a catastrophe. Yet, the instinctual pull towards the awaiting slumber was too hard to resist. Hero scooted down into a more comfortable position, pulled Supervillain onto her chest and fell asleep next to him.

It was sometime before she felt something move beside her. Hero blearily opened her eyes- still heavy with left over sleep- to find Supervillain awake, still hugging her, but staring at something by the foot of the bed. At first Hero brushed it off as another feverish hallucination, but then she saw a shadow move.

Her eyes opening all the way, Hero's head darted to where her other unplanned guest was leisurely standing, using his knife to pick at his nails. Didn't she remove that toy from him?

"What did I say?" Villain asked, pressing his palms into the bedrail. "I say: you are housing Supervillain. No, she replies, blushing the entire time. And then what do I find? The criminal mastermind himself sleeping over the little princess with the tiara. Figures." Villain rolled his eyes, or his eye because the other was still sealed shut by the purple tarp that obscured the machine of sight from the world.

"I-i couldn't just leave him."

"He tried to kill you."

Supervillain whimpered, cowering deeper into bed as Villain's blantant mention of the past triggered his anxiety. Hero would surely get back at him once he was healed. She was just waiting so that she could redo the damage already done to his lungs. Make him suffer the agony he was experiencing. Supervillain let out a quiet sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

As complex as these thoughts seemed, the thinking of them only took a moment because soon, Hero was replying to Villain's accusation.

"And you tried to kill him," she retorted. "Twice. I stopped you both times."

"And knocked me out and hospitalized me in the process. Hero, we are the victims here. Not him," Villain shot a pointed glare at the scared supervillain with a sneer.

"You gave him pneumonia! He can die!"

"Okay, okay. One, I could've died from head trauma. Two, if he was going to die, take him to a freaking hospital. And three, you helped push him into the tank. Remember that."

The memory swarmed Hero like bees- the reminder of her own grave mistake making her feel a rush of guilt.

"I shouldn't have done that and I can't take him to the hospital or he will be arrested."

"I could've been arrested."

"Not everything's about you!"

Villain was silent, chewing at his bottom lip. "This isn't a decision of intellect, darling, housing him does not justify yours or mine or his actions. Not to mention how much you are going regret this," he pointed out, flinging the knife in his hands carefully.

"Why would I regret this. I am-"

"The Hero Agnecy dear. Did you think that your little medic friend thought it was normal for you to call my injuries in? Or are you that naive?"

Hero was silent, stunned into utter silence, but Villain's words. Medic never came. She never came to help Hero, but that didn't mean that she reported Hero's possible betrayal of the agency. It didn't mean...

She never came.

And Hero brought Villain to the hospital. That was all the proof needed for the Agency to put her on a watchlist.

"You need to go back!" Hero suddenly exclaimed, jostling Supervillain who was just about to doze off again.

"To where? The mangy excuse for a hospital?" Villain snorted. "Heck no." He chuckled. "They will put me back under with restraints this time. The chances of escape will go from 95.6% to zero in a matter of seconds. Its suicidal, not to mention probably stupid beyond reason."

"They are gonna think I busted you out..." Hero's voice trailed off when she saw Villain raise his eyebrow mockingly.

"Not everything is about you," he mimicked in perfect representation of Hero's prior exclamation that could've once been described as an arguement's winning statement.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, Supervillain started hacking, but this time around not only mucus left his lungs, but blood in the color of the deepest crimson.

"Hmm," Villain stayed silent for moment, brow ceasing. Hero thought she could literally see the gears clicking and turning in his head.

"You could be right," Villain agreed. "Going back would be beneficial. Especially for me." He grinned wickedly.

"How?"

"Well... Supervillain needs medicine and care, antibiotics to kick this pneumonia," Villain started to pace. "I could go back and gather some. Tell the docs that I escaped on my own... but for a price."

Hero got a sense of Rumpelstiltskin's classic, "all the magic comes with a price" speech with the twirl of his scaly pointer finger, from the series Once Upon a Time.

"Name it."

"All of my criminal charges are dropped, meaning I get to leave that hospital when I deem ready. Not when the stupid heroes decide that I am redeemed enough."

Well, uh, that... Hero shook her head. She never thought of it, but antibiotics were needed to make Supervillain better. She had to go through with it.

"Second," Villain counted off with his fingers as he threw sarcastically intended smirks. "I get a new motorcycle. Your boyfriend trashed it."

"He's not-" Hero stopped when she saw Villain raise an eyebrow.

"Shush, honey. Lemme talk," He drawled. "I will bring you the antibiotics if you swear you will heed my requests."

All sense of caution and foreboding were lost as Hero rummaged her thoughts over the promise. Supervillain's health for two simple things. It was easy enough.

"Deal," she said, nearly involuntary, but that wasn't entirely accurate because she indeed wanted this.

Villain smirk, running his tongue over his lips as he bounded over to shake Hero's hand. The second the two's flesh met meant that the deal was struck. Hero couldn't back away, nor could Villain.

Hero was in the kitchen tenderly feeding Supervillain some soup and prompting him to drink some gatorade when Villain returned triumphantly with a large red bottle.

"Sweet!" Hero exclaimed and grabbed the much needed tuberware. She opened it and admired the pills inside.

"One twice a day," Villain instructed, sitting down in the empty chair next to Hero. His eyes glinted with excited anticipation, narrowing slightly at the edges at the way Hero regarded the antibiotics.

She then took one and opened Supervillain's jaw. He didn't even attempt to resist and compliantly allowed her to maneuver his mouth around. Even though swallowing the hefty pill was an ordeal in itself, he managed.

Hero, seemingly satisfied, picked him up and carried him to the living room to nap on the couch. Villain followed behind her, shooting glances at his phone every few seconds.

Hero propped him against her shoulder and flicked on the television. A comedy show was on. Supervillain glanced up at it before digging his head into Hero's shoulders, completely disinterested.

Supervillain was asleep, Hero was resting with a relaxed look of tranquility on her face, and Villain was draped across an armchair completely absorbed in his phone and periodically looking out the window when the door made a knocking noise.

Hero tensed, and looked at Villain who had stood up.

"Wait here," he said, but there was no ounce of anticipation in his voice. Hero furrowed her forehead. There was even a hint of buoyancy in his typical monotone voice. Even though he usually spoke in a sarcastic air, he always seemed to drawl.

But this was different. Abnormal. Eerie. And a bit- if not very- concerning.

Hero stood up, leaning Supervillain against the armrest and pressed her ear to the recently shut door.

It was Villain who was speaking, that monotone that would stand out anywhere.

"I have them," he said. "I have them both."

Hero's heart dropped when she heard the click of guns.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #feverish whumpee #feverish villain #hero x supervillain #writing #heros and villains #pneumonia #drugged whumpee #drugged villain #fever #tw nightmares

47 notes · View notes

limitlessgojo · 4 years ago

Text

The Truth Hurts, But Does it Really? (The Other Side).

Extra: Kamo Noritoshi's POV in Part 1.

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 + Epilogue is here.

"Let's split up here. I'll take those rooms." Noritoshi told Mechamaru.

"Okay, be back in a bit." Mechamaru replied. They parted and went through the empty classrooms. Truth be told, Noritoshi had an inkling, call it his 6th sense or gut feeling, telling him where your phone was. He went through the first year classrooms you frequent and use with Arata.

Upon not finding anything. He decided to leave the building. Just outside was an open training area. The vending machine that you always buy Orange juice from was there. He looked around it. He still didn't find anything.

He then tried to remember all the areas he sees you most frequently in. But the only the place that comes to his mind most frequently is this vending machine. He looked at the ground. Trying to imagine himself in your shoes.

Walking from the vending machine over to a small clearing with flowers. Bushes of Hydrangea lined the path way. He remembers how you stared at them everytime you walk by this path, claiming to love their colors.

Noritoshi tried checking each bush, gently moving layers of flowers aside. He took a closer look, and saw something shine out of the corner of his eye. He parted the flowers and leaves further, muttering apologies to any Nature spirits in the vicinity.

There was your phone. Luckily the phone case was shiny plastic. It stood out like a sore thumb against the dark soil, with the brightly coloured Suga Photocard and tangerine stickers. He can't forget it, because upon the release of their first Love Yourself: Her album you shrieked about wanting the blue haired idol's card.

He smiled as he reached into the bushes, grabbing a hold of your phone. Wiping the dust and soil away, he wondered if he should at least clean and disinfect it for you first.

He pressed the home button and was not surprised to see that the phone was out of battery. (No wonder all the tried calls earlier didn't go through).

What did surprise him was the polaroid of you and him, when both of you had a rest day together and decided to have a picnic under the Wisteria trees. You asked him for a quick selfie (back during the phase when you went around asking everyone for a polaroid selfie for keepsakes). Placed diagonally under the Suga photocard.

Noritoshi felt honoured. It was such a small detail but a big thing to him, as you had proclaimed your love for Yoongi multiple times. He knew that you and Todou take your fangirling/fanboying duties INCREDIBLY seriously.

He laughed quietly as he made his way back into the building. 'Hopefully she could grow to love me as much as she loves them someday', he wistfully thought.

"I haven't found it yet." Mechamaru said as soon as they met back at their starting point. "Don't fuss, it's with me right here. I already cleaned it up and disinfected it in the bathroom for her." Noritoshi held up your phone.

"Ah, that's good to hear. Where did you find it?" Mechamaru asked as they made their way back.

"Inside a Hydrangea bush."

"How on earth does a phone get into a bush? Then again last time she lost her special photocard, we found it tucked between boxes of cereal."

"She is just a cute and forgetful klutz like that. It can't be helped." Noritoshi defended you. "Now we just have to look for her."

They continued walking, until they reached the area near the dining common room. Noritoshi could already hear your voice, it was such a soothing and pretty voice to him.

He could listen to you talk or sing all day. Which is why whenever you rant about your favorite music genres, he would just pay half attention to the content and focus more on the lilt of your voice.

Suddenly the girls shrieked out loud. Curious, he walked faster. "Do you like Kamo-kun?" He heard a voice ask. He stood frozen just outside the door frame, still out of sight. The question stopped him and Mechamaru in their tracks.

"Yes I love him." Your voice rang loud and clear. The other girls in the room squealed and shrieked with joy, but he couldn't hear them well.

As a blood manipulator, he knew every little detail about his circulatory system. His heart rate, temperature, blood pressure, and red blood cell count. And now with his heart rate rising rapidly, he felt his face heat up. His feelings were requited, and to say that he is elated is an incredibly large understatement.

Still he felt stiff as he walked forward and stood by the door frame. Mechamaru followed.

He tried to calm down his heart, but it didn't seem to be listening to him as he felt his face flush even more when you turned to him with horror in your eyes. 'Why is she looking like the world has just ended?' He wondered.

Mechamaru broke the silence, "Well.... we found your phone." Right. Noritoshi gripped your phone a bit tighter as he watched your eyes dart to it, then back to his.

Then he watched as you turned away muttering about how you'd be changing names. Mai laughed out loud "You're not going anywhere y/n".

This is going nowhere. "Hey" Noritoshi started, but you ran out the window. He watched as you activated your cursed technique and flew up, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

He felt stunned. Were you serious about what you just said? "How much did you hear Kamo-kun?" Momo asked him. "I heard someone ask y/n if she liked me, and I heard her say that she loves me." He stated plainly.

"Hmmmm, and you like her don't you?" Mai asked him. Noritoshi stayed silent but his eyes held a warning. Still Mai plowed on, "She wasn't lying just now. She was holding the truth stone."

"Why do you have such a cursed tool with you right now? Did you force her against her will?" Noritoshi asked. He felt his blood pressure start to rise again, eye twitching. "Zenin family business, and none of yours Kamo. She agreed to answer our questions in exchange for help in finding her dear phone and photocard. Anyways, it would be a good thing to clear it up with her if you share the same feelings right?" Mai retorted.

Noritoshi started. He realized how this situation looked like from your end. Your feelings laid bare in front of a group of people, including the one you loved. The anxiety you must have felt.

"We will talk later." He said as he rushed out after you, in the direction you took off in.

"If you both get together, you so owe me and Momo a treat for finally bringing you two together!" Mai yelled as she checked her nails. Momo was more worried, "Do you guys think she's fine? She looked plenty scared."

"It's fine isn't it? Kamo loves her anyways and he is already off to clear it up with her. I'm pretty sure they'll be a couple by the end of the night" Mechamaru said.

Mai shot Momo a gleeful look. Momo just looked troubled. Mai then turned to Mechamaru. "Mechamaruu~~~ do you wanna try using the truth stone?"

He walked around them and then sat down on a bench, "No, I'm logging out for a bit. We don't even know if that could work on robots remotely controlled from afar".

"Sighhh, you're no fun. Though you have a thing for Miwa don't you?" Mai nudged him. "Please don't mention it. To anyone." He muttered. Momo agreed. "Mai-chan, I think we have caused enough chaos for the day".

Mai just looked to the side, clicking her tongue. "Tch. At least those two oblivious idiots will finally get together", she muttered.

#kamo noritoshi x reader #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk x oc #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff

67 notes · View notes

teen-cups-au · 3 years ago

Text

FOLLOWER'S SUBMISSION:

Recovery

Part 28.

Note I forgot to add: Cuphead knows what anorexia is, he knows he is anorexic but does not know /can't understand how serious it is and does not wish to change yet. He still tries to eat healthy....He eats vegetables, fruits, coffee (no sugar).

That's why at some point I wrote « he didn't want Mugman to suffer anorexia and asthma»

Warning ⚠ : Light angst, mention of eating disorder, very light swearing (If I remember correctly one word 😅)

_______

Back to Andrea

She put the thermometer in his armpit and waited 5 minutes. Then she checked his temperature "36.5" she said. She removed all blankets but two. "Are you feeling better?" she asked. "Yes, I feel warmer." he mumbled.

Cuphead came "Mug! You are awake!" he said. "Hey!" he whispered. She removed the cannula and the IV. Cuphead lifted him "Is he okay?" he asked. "Yes! 36.5 normal " she said. "Could I take him for a bath?" he asked. "Of course! I'm sure a nice bath will calm him" she said. "Come on Mug!" he said and leaned down close to Mugman exposing his neck.

Mugman wrapped his hands around him slowly. Cuphead wrapped his own hands around Mugman's shoulder blades and kneepits and lifted him bridal style. "Let's go take a nice warm bath!" he whispered and kissed his straw. Cuphead walked towards the bathroom.

Mugman smiled "Mhm..Thank you Cuphead!" he whispered. "Thank you too Mugman!" he said while while opening the door.

"Huh? Why?" Mugman asked. Cuphead didn't answer right away. He opened the taps and checked the water. When it was okay he gently let Mugman down in the bathtub. Mugman waited patiently.

"Because..." Cuphead said and started throwing water on his back.

"…you make my life better! I love you!! Never forget that!" he said. Mugman smiled, his eyes shone. "What have I done to make you happy?" he asked. *

(*Author's note: Mugman knows Cuphead loves him, he is in an emotional state where he needs to listen that he is loved and not a burden!)

Cuphead gently threw water on Mugman's chest, legs and shoulders. He gently held him from his shoulders and pushed his body slightly backwards. Sinking Mugman's body so the water will go everywhere.

"What have you done to make me happy?" he repeated what Mugman said. Mugman nodded. Cuphead took aloe and gently rubbed Mugman's back, chest, hands and legs all the while talking with him.

"Many things" Cuphead said. A visible smirk on his face. He was however very concentrated on Mugman's body so he won't miss a spot. "Like?" Mugman asked back.

"Hm.. Let's see.. Well... Your existence makes me happy! The hugs you give me, the way you bite your fingers accidentally when you eat fries and you are really hungry, the way your eyes shine with adoration each time you look at me, the way you eat ice-cream, the way you offered me nice meals and still do.

The way you laugh, the way you sing, the way you pout everytime you eat something and I steal it from your hand. The way you fell asleep on my shoulder when we watch a movie. The way you bury your face on my chest when you are frightened, you need comfort or you are just in the mood for hugs... The way you dance, the way your eyes shine each time I touch you or someone gives you an insect. Etc Etc.

Everything you do makes me happy!! You make me happy!!" he said. Mugman was speechless.. Wow...his brother really loved him

"Did I answer your question Mug? 😉" he asked. Mugman looked away smiling." Yes Thank you!" he replied.

Cuphead saw Mugman's straw leaning backwards, that meant he was happy! Cuphead hugged him "Cup! I'll make you all wet!" he said

"I don't care! Come here!" Cuphead said. He hugged him. Cuphead while hugging Mugman, checked his body. Deep down he felt bad. He was thin... Very thin.. Underweight... Mugman understood that something was wrong, however he didn't speak.

"Oh I forgot to say! Djimmi texted me to take one injection. 1 shot 3 times a day".

Mugman smiled "that's good!" Cuphead dried him. His eyes fell on the scale that was a few steps away.

"Mugman? Could you please step on the scale?" Cuphead asked. Mugman raised his eyebrow "Why?" he asked. "Just wanna see something.. do you trust me?" Cuphead asked "Sure!" Mugman replied.

He helped him climb and waited. "48kg" Cuphead said. For someone in Mugman's height (1.77M) The ideal weight was 70kg. Mugman until now had lost 21kg.

Mugman sighed "It doesn't matter I'll gain it.." he said and looked at Cuphead. Who had lost his color.

"Cuphead? Are you okay?" Mugman asked. Cuphead said nothing ".....".

Mugman waved his hand in front of his face. "Cup? Yahoo!!" he said. Cuphead was still silent "...."

"CUPHEAD!!?" Mugman yelled.

"Mh?! Huh?!" he asked perplexed. "Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost...!" he said. "Yeah I'm fine -.." Cuphead said his voice cracking... *sob*

"Woah hey! Why are you crying?" he asked. "You are not supposed to be this thin..." Cuphead said and a sob escape his eyes.

"Cuphead it's okay!" Mugman said. "Come here let it all out!" and hugged him.

"I don't want something bad happen to you... Why can't you just have a normal life like any other teen boy? Why is life so hard on you?" he said and buried his face deeper on Mugman's colar bone.

"It's gonna be okay Cuphead remember? Positivity! Now, if it makes feel better cry! Here on my chest, shoulder wherever you like!" he smiled softly. Cuphead smiled back. Mugman gently caressed Cuphead's cheek and brought his Mug closer *clink clink * Cuphead chuckled. He stopped crying for now.

"Mugman?" he asked. "Yes Cuphead?" Mugman asked back. "How can you be so calm? You are underweight.., you have asthma... You have this illness that fucks up your respiratory system.. Yet my brother... you are so calm.. I am supposed to comfort you.. Not the opposite" he said.

Mugman gently cupped his face (not pun intended). He sighed." Will it solve anything if I panic? Sure there are days where I felt like giving up... Where I was emotionally shattered.. Tired, exhausted, defeated sad etc.

However, I took a hold of myself, I looked around me.. I have beautiful friends, a loving grandpa, fans, Doudy, Andrea, that crazy woman Amelia and an affectionate, adorable, cool, wonderful etc brother!

Besides negativity brings negativity, Positivity brings positivity. (<- yo I sound like my mom here 🤣) There is always hope, faith and hope! My beloved brother. "

Cuphead lost his voice.

He buried his face in Mugman's colar bone. Cuphead looked at himself in the mirror. Due to the fact he wasn't spending much time playing videogames, his black cycles were gone!

However Mugman's were visible and quite bad. He hugged Mugman tighter and bawled again for a good 20 minutes! Mugman was caressing his back whispering soft / comforting words that it will be okay!

"... *sniff hic * Come on Mug *hic sniff sniff* let's...let's go and... Uh..* sniff hic gulp* and put chamomile and aloe!" he said. He gently lifted Mugman and took him to bed.

He covered him with the blanket and made chamomile. When it was lukewarm he gently rubbed his chest, neck, abdomen and all his body in general!

Then he wore on him a black sleeveless shirt and Indigo silk pijamas. He brought some strawberry juice for him to drink.

Later.

He helped Mugman do his asthma treatment (helped him fix the nebulizer). "May I help you? " Cuphead asked. Mugman said "okay? Why??" Mugman asked. "No reason.." He said. "Allright" Mugman patted the place next to him. Cuphead sat next to him and did what Mugman asked him to do.

After that, he went to bring some yogurt with strawberries and blueberries. and he fed him. and prepared his shot. He rubbed alcohol anf then injected the injection. Cuphead caressed his face.

As a treat Cuphead brought him 2 pieces/slices of watermelon 🍉.

______________

Before bed.

Cuphead came wrapped him like a burrito and took a baby bottle.

"What? You are my baby remember?" Cuphead asked. Mugman chuckled yet he played along.

Elder kettle came "Boys is everything o-..kay?"

Cuphead "...." *blinks*

Mugman "....." *blinks *

Elder Kettle "..." *blinks *

........

Cuphead laughed. "PPPFFFFFTTTTT He is my.. *clears throat*my baby isn't he adorable?" Mugman smiled and kept drinking his coconut water.

Elder Kettle chuckled "You boys need anything?" he sled "Im good!" Cuphead said Mugman removed the bottle from his lips "Im good too thanks!" he said. "Goodnight boys!" he said.

"Good -" Cuphead said. "-Night!" Mugman finished. Elder kettle left and walked towards his room smiling.. Boys... Hehe

Cuphead put him to sleep. He wrapped him with a blanket, Cuphead laid next to him and hugged him. While listening to the sound of rain and thunders.

They said to each other

"I love you brother!"

End of part 28 (Wowie)

Thank you for reading!! 💙

MOD'S REPLY:

Doudy (mod): So much positivity all of a sudden, it feels nice! Really nice 😊

"the way you bite your fingers accidentally when you eat fries" 🤣

Cup losing his colors, omg. Aw, now he's crying 😭

Omg Mug talking about us! Crazy woman XD

LOL that baby scene XD

#submission #cuphead #cuphead au #teen cups #teen cups au #fanart

13 notes · View notes

sombreboy · 4 years ago

Text

Mused obsession (5)

Written by @sombreboy as Jungkook & @chimoona as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 10.7k of literal filth ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, my peeps there’s 3 smut scenes in this bring some damn tissues, so much sexual tension, Jimin's praise kink skyrockets, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom!jjk, sub!pjm, blowjob with a brief moment of faux sub!jjk, degrading dirty talk, petnames, Jimin is so good at begging I'm in tears while editing this uff, anal (this is fictional they're ok, jimin loves getting his ass stretched pls use lube irl), Jk has a FAT cock, obsessive behavior, lots of cum in Jimin's ass (like, a lot. several times.), some fluff if you wipe the cum away, fingering in the shower (im sweating), more fucking in the shower, even more cum in Jimin's ass istg he's such a cockhungry slut, a smidge of jealous/possessive jk, more fucking sorry not sorry these men are insatiable once they got a taste of each other, cum eating.

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

The ride back to Jungkook’s place was pure torture. Jimin struggled to keep his hand off his throbbing length—the image of the metal rod gliding through the photographer’s smooth and blushed cock head, burned to his memory. Every time he closed his eyes it was like the image imprinted itself on the backs of his eyelids. He didn’t acknowledge the other man until they pulled up to the front of the house.

When the younger man leant across his lap to open the door, he was left no choice but to finally look him in the eyes. Jungkook’s childlike innocence was hardened by coal black pupils that devoured Jimin whole. As he’s naturally wanting to do, Jimin shrinks beneath the other’s gaze and tries to assess exactly what he’s in for.

At this point, Jungkook neither cares for or bothers to ask whether Jimin would like to go to his place or go back to his own house. No, Jimin's home didn't exist anymore. He knew the blonde would blindly follow him, completely caught in his web.

''We're home.'' Jungkook's warm breath hits Jimin's ear before he leans back, allowing him to exit the vehicle, following quickly behind. He caught up to open the door with his gaze growing darker the second it closed behind them, the chime of the electronic lock almost too loud in the tense silence. ''Park Jimin,” he says clearly, sounding more like he simply wants to say his name rather than to get his attention. ''Let me see your tattoo once more, I want to give it a proper look.''

“R-right here?” Jimin looks around the foyer and notices, as per usual, the room is vacant aside from the two of them. “Okay,” he meekly replies, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the fabric midway down his leg, exposing the fire-red petals as they bleed into his thigh. He feels the temperature of the room increase despite the thermostat’s untouched dial. Jungkook’s encroaching presence was more than enough to heat every part of his body, especially his bare legs, which were studied intently by the younger. “Let me see yours too,” he challenges, bravely pushing his pants down to the floor and kicking them off his feet.

“Oh, you want to see.” Jungkook smiles coyly as he steps closer to the elder, getting rid of his shirt within those few seconds to carelessly throw it on the floor; the maid would take care of it later. “I bet there's more than just the tattoo that you want to see, hm?” He cooes while one hand finds Jimin's hip, the other smoothing over the lines of the blonde's tattoo. ''You know what I'd absolutely love, butterfly?'' Jungkook continues as he inches his face closer to Jimin—his gentle yet strong gaze fails to hide the excitement of the idea in his mind, “I haven't taken photos of you in such a long time. And right this second, no artificial light can compete with the sun.”

It’s golden hour. Jungkook is ecstatic over the little things. He thought of this moment all day, taking Jimin to his large balcony and taking the perfect photo to add to his growing collection.

“More photos, hm?” Jimin smiles and leans into Jungkook’s touch, granting him full access, wherever he likes. He takes the opportunity to feel the man’s bare chest as it closes over his small frame.

Safely inside Jungkook’s impressive home, Jimin feels he can truly do whatever he wants. He presses his lips to the fresh arm tattoo, feeling the heat of the healing skin pulsate into his plush pout. The faint taste of rust lingers as he pulls back and wets his lips. The earthy flavor of the other man’s raw artwork is intoxicating—more than he likes to admit. It’s tender and receptive. He almost swears he feels him shudder as he pulls back to look him in the eye.

“Anything you want, sir.”

Jimin surely isn't the innocent angel Jungkook had initially thought that he was, and being around the photographer surely doesn't do much but bring him deeper, down into the perfect level of corruption that Jungkook craves.

"Good boy." Jungkook whispers, his voice a bit shakier than he'd admit. Jimin has a hold on him that he can't quite place. He wants the model for himself only, to spoil in every way possible.

"Come with me." His lips curl up in a playful grin as he roughly grabs Jimin by his wrist, pulling him along as he strides towards the balcony. His free hand reaches out for the camera he'd left on the counter along the way. “Ah, look at the sky,” Kook chimes in awe as they step outside, the golden glow of the sunset providing the perfect filter. “So pretty.”

“It is,” Jimin agrees, not even pretending to admire the view. All he wants is to watch dewy droplets of sweat bead on Jungkook as the setting sun hits him directly.

Jimin steps close enough to kiss, stands on his toes and flattens his tongue against the base of Jungkook’s smooth fawned neck. “Mm,” he moans, gently sucking the moisture from his skin, “watching you get that piercing...” he glides his hand down the front of the man’s pants and feels him, already responsive, stiffening quick, “...you were so brave. I couldn’t look away, it was almost too much. I wanted to taste you so bad, Jeon. Right there in the shop, in front of Namjoon. I wouldn’t have given a fuck.”He breathes his hot wanton breath against Jungkook’s jaw, nipping up to his cherry lips and claiming them in an ardent kiss. “And now you’ve brought me to this balcony, to do what, photograph me?” He steps back and peels his shirt over his head, tossing it on a lounge chair. Then his underwear, until he’s fully exposed on the sunlit balcony, letting the evening glow illuminate his silhouette. He strokes his aching cock with a soft hand and let’s Jungkook watch his every move. “Is this what you expected?”

Jungkook takes a mental note of the quick mention of the elder 'Not giving a fuck' in the same sentence as 'In front of Namjoon'. He'd remember that one, without a doubt.

“More than I could ever imagine,” Jungkook's eyes glue to the delicate movements by Jimin's smaller hand. “So fuckin' pretty.”

Jungkook is genuinely in awe, licking his lips at the show he's given as he fumbles with the camera. There's no way he'd let this kind of imagery slip through the cracks.

“Sit on the ledge, keep touching yourself. If you do really well for me..” He peeks at the blonde through the camera lens. “I'll grant you one wish. A reward of your choice,” he jokes, but his tone has a serious undertone.

He would grant Jimin anything he desired, whether it be jewelry, a car, clothes—he could have it all. But something tells Jungkook that there's something else he'd rather have, something that both of them would rather have. Something that no money can give, only Jeon Jungkook himself. The latter knew very well what the blonde would want, and he ached just imagining his pretty tune begging for it, after doing his absolute best to be a good boy.

Jimin is quick to take direction, hazy with lust but still well-trained. However, it doesn’t take an expert to know where this is all leading. ”A reward of your choice”—Jungkook’s promise repeats itself in his mind. While he’s given the option to choose, there’s only one thing he wants out of this, and that’s to finally feel Jeon Jungkook inside him...with that new piercing.

He leans against the ledge, not feeling brave enough to sit on it fully without the fear of plummeting to the ground. He arches his back and tilts his face so the sunlight bathes his upper body in warm light. It’s as easy as breathing, posing for the photographer, knowing exactly what he likes to see. Shot after shot, Jimin adjusts his posture and shows off a different angle, even more seductive than the last. His hand wraps around his hard cock and strokes with purpose, looking directly into the camera lens as he does so.

“Beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs to himself as the flickering sound of the camera goes off—one of his favorite sounds. Surely, there were other sounds that would top it by the end of tonight's session.

Jungkook's prominent erection strains against the caging fabric. He uncomfortably adjusts, growing annoyed and unzipping to let his pants fall to his hips, still hanging on. It’s somewhat of a relief, but not enough. He isn't used to the new addition of jewelry on his cock, pleasantly rubbing against his boxers everytime he moves. Eventually, he deems he’s had enough content, wanting to indulge in reality as it is, and places the camera on the ledge next to Jimin when he steps close. He positions himself between the elder's spread legs, hands settling on his thighs. He feels the heat radiating off the fresh artwork on Jimin's skin and traces the shape with his fingers.

“As always, your performance is nothing but flawless,” Jungkook breathes against Jimin's plush lips. He’s too beautiful, like an actual angel, and Jungkook is the polar opposite. Darkness, the corrupt devil that wants Jimin as his own personal plaything for all of eternity. “You deserve a reward,” Kook's blunt nails scrape against the sensitive, tattooed skin, surely causing it to sting. “What do you desire?”

The pain of Jungkook’s nails digging into Jimin’s tender broken flesh makes the model shudder. The pleasure mixed with the pain is a welcome feeling. He wants more.

“I’ve been a good boy?” Jimin asks in the sweetest airy voice. He looks at the other man with the most wide and innocent eyes he can muster—lips pouting gently as he speaks. “Anything I desire?”

With a nod from the photographer, Jimin reaches up and tangles his hand in Jungkook’s hair, gripping it roughly and tugging his head down to eye-level. “I think it’s time you got on your knees, puppy.” His cock stiffens impossibly hard at the mere thought of the younger man becoming submissive for him, even if for just a brief moment. “Take me in your mouth and I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”

Jungkook bites back a hissed groan at the tug of his dark curls. Jimins sudden switch into dominance catches the younger by surprise. It isn't terrible, but rather exciting.

Cute, Jungkook thinks. As much as he loves to inflict pain, receiving it is a close second. There’s his kink for tattoos, and the spontaneous piercing was more than enough proof for his masochism.

“Ah, fuck...” Kook curses, but his tone is laced with lust. “Puppy?” he huffs with a small smile, eyes staring down at the elders throbbing length. Okay, he'll play along. “Yes..” his tone changes, softening as his gaze shifts to meet Jimin's. His dark, doe eyes suddenly display need, as if he is indeed a puppy that wants to do well. Jungkook is a great actor, but only because part of him truly does enjoy this dynamic.

He swiftly drops to his knees and smoothes his hands down to settle on Jimin's knees. “Want me to be your little puppy?” Kook licks his lips, inching closer to the blondes painfully hard cock, his hot breath coating the velvety skin.

Jimin is already overcome with arousal and the pleasure of both watching Jungkook between his legs and the feeling of breath fanning over his length, teasing him with the sheer proximity of the younger’s open mouth. “Y-yes sir—I-I mean...” he flounders as he tries to adapt to his temporary role, “...puppy.” He grips Jungkook’s hair even tighter and pulls him forward to forcefully graze the younger’s pout along his leaking tip.

He wishes he held a camera to capture this moment from his point of view so he could watch it over and over. The world of fashion would erupt at the leaked footage of golden boy Jeon Jungkook on his knees, but he wants to keep it all for himself. He releases his grip on Jungkook’s hair and grabs the camera from the ledge beside him. He tries his best to turn it on, but suddenly realizes it’s already recording video.

“Dirty puppy,” Jimin scolds lightly, aiming the camera at Jungkook’s blushed face. He isn’t surprised in the slightest, seeing as how infatuated the recluse raven-haired photographer is with capturing him in precarious positions. “Look at me and part those pretty lips.” He holds his throbbing cock in his hand and rubs the tip over the younger’s pout, coating them in his essence. “Taste how ready I am for you.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose in a small, bunny-like smile at Jimin's slip up and the reaction to the camera recording. The blonde never seems to mind his kinks. A small part of Jungkook feels a pinch of hesitation in his body when the camera is suddenly on his face—a very controversial image if it was to ever be released to the public...but, the thrill of it is more arousing than he expects.

“You're so sexy when you tell me what to do.” He coos, mimicking the tone of voice he knows too well from Jimin, familiar with how a sub should sound. Jungkook's eyes sparkle as the rays from the sunset hit his face. He holds intense contact with the lens and presses his flattered tongue on the underside of Jimin's length, slowly dragging his wet muscle upwards, meeting the tip, swirling, collecting precum. A low hum vibrates in his throat—Jimin tastes sweet.

“Fuck—“ Jimin gasps, involuntarily bucking his hips, pushing his shaft shallowly into Jungkook’s mouth. Just locking eyes with the younger man while he tentatively laps is enough to make him shake. It’s unusual handling a camera while feeling the overwhelming heat of Jungkook’s skilled tongue. After a minute, he relaxes and lets the younger take control while he films as best he can.

Jimin thinks this exhilarating feeling must be what Jungkook loves so much when he’s behind the camera. The separation between reality and a curated virtual realm is wholly satisfying to experience. It’s as if the man on the other side isn’t real. He’s too good to be real. Jimin focuses solely on the camera screen and feels blushed each time Jungkook locks eyes with the lens while taking him deeper, teasing him with his innocent gaze while his lips encircle him devilishly.

“Good puppy,” Jimin coos quietly, rocking his hips slowly, begging for more friction.

“Mm?” Jungkook crooks a playful eyebrow at the camera, knowing Jimin's focus was tunnel visioned on him only. His hands mindlessly roams up and down the model’s thighs, using nothing but his mouth to tease the pretty head of Jimin's swollen cock. The photographer is already crumbling, just as easily as when he’s above.

“Ah, hyung…” Kook whines deliberately to test what kind of reaction he'd get, wrapping his plushy lips around the tip to give it a harsh suck.

Jimin curses under his breath and tangles his hand in Jungkook’s messy hair again, pulling him down onto his cock until he gags. The honorific catches him by surprise, not expecting the younger to take on this submissive role with such commitment. It makes Jimin want to push him further, to use him a bit until he snaps.

“F-fuck, Jeon, you’re being such a pretty whore for me.” So pretty. The sun darkens as it dips beneath the horizon and casts pale shadows over his angelic face. “Do you like worshiping my cock?” He gives a few rough thrusts and brushes his tip past Jungkook’s gag reflex until tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “Do you like being treated like this, or would you prefer something we’d both enjoy?”

It’s slowly becoming a bit too much for Jungkook. He is a glutton for pain, but being somebody's whore, or gagging on a cock like some...toy? It’s endurable, and the way Jimin's thighs tremble under his touch tells the younger man that he seems nervous, as he should be. Who wouldn't be cautious while having Jeon Jungkook on his knees?

Screwing his eyes shut while punished by Jimin’s cock, Jungkook forces stray tears to trickle down his cheeks, coughing. It triggers the younger to dig his blunt nails into Jimin's thighs, grazing the latters cock with his teeth as he slowly withdraws his mouth. He keeps the tip between his teeth. It would be so easy to make the model scream, and he would, but not this way.

“Hmm? Something we'd both enjoy?" Jungkook's nails continue to dig, deliberately trying to draw whines from Jimin. “I'm not sure what you mean unless you tell me. I rather enjoy being down here.” He lies with a coy smirk—the doe-eyed gaze now shifts into something more sinister.

Jimin curses again, louder this time and strangled by his throaty moans. Jungkook’s onslaught on his thighs is almost enough pain to distract him from the pressure around his cock. He knew it would be a challenge for the younger man to drop to his knees and submit fully. So, he takes his punishment gladly and begins to shake as he reaches his threshold.

“Shit, Jeon,” he tugs the man’s head off his length with a sharp snap, grazing Jungkook’s teeth along his sensitive tip as it pops out of his mouth. “You know what I want.” He sets the camera aside on the ledge with the wide lens pointing at the two of them. “I-I want you to...” his cheeks flush as his intimidating demeanour fades by the second. He pleads with his dark chestnut eyes, “...fuck me, please.” He glances down at Jungkook’s aching cock and wonders how good it will feel to have that metal barbell brush against his prostate while he gets fucked dumb on the exposed balcony.

Jungkook doesn't hesitate to get back up on his feet in between Jimin's spread legs, hands snaking around the elders waist to pull him closer, pressing their erections together. Never has the younger despised a piece of fabric as much as he did now, tugging them down as he bites back an eager moan at the skin-to-skin sensation.

“I know you've wanted it for a while.” Jungkook's breath comes out in heavy huffs, one hand reaching down to stroke himself and Jimin within the same grasp, cocks rubbing together. “I've wanted to shove my fat cock in you since I laid my eyes on you for the first time.” He groans at the memories, so happy that he's gotten this beautiful angel to be his, under his mercy and control. “Do you trust me?” Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes growing more serious beneath a haze of lust, one hand still stroking them both whilst the other snakes around the blonde's waist to hold him close.

Just as he did the first time, Jimin nods, “I trust you.” He rolls his hips to grind his hard cock against Jungkook’s. This is what he only hoped to have since his first interaction with the man. The way he takes control of every situation, and the way he makes Jimin feel...so special makes him weak in the knees. “I-I want your fat cock inside me...” The mounting pleasure of their leaking cocks sliding against one another is just a tease. Jimin spits into his hand and strokes the younger’s length, preparing him to line up at his entrance. He isn’t above begging. The thought of being stretched and claimed by his partner makes Jimin whimper needy moans, desperate to finally feel their bodies connect. “...Please, I need it...”

'I trust you.', 'Please, I need it.' It’s all Jungkook needs to give in to his desires. A low moan slips through his teeth when Jimin's delicate hand strokes his twitching length. It looks even bigger in the blonde’s small grasp, and it drives the younger mad.

“Feel what you do to me?” Jungkook groans into Jimin's ear as he roughly puts his hands behind the blonde's knees, pushing them up and forcing him to lean backwards on the ledge. His grip is firm though, and it keeps him in place with no risk of actually letting Jimin fall from the wide surface. But the knowledge of possibly being able to—having Jimin's life in his hands… It makes Jungkook's cock throb heavily. “I need it too. Need you.” He kisses Jimin's jawline, trailing down to his neck before sucking on the tender tissue as if it was his own personal canvas, all for him to paint with purple and pink bruises.

Slowly, but eagerly, Jungkook uses one hand to properly press his tip against Jimin's tight hole. “You won't be able to think about anything but my fat cock, will you?” Kook adds as he drives his hips forward, finally sinking into the elders tightness that squeezes around him. “Fuck... So tight.”

The pressure of Jungkook’s girth causes Jimin to involuntarily roll his eyes to the back of his head. He opens Jimin up deliciously, pushing his tender piercing deep into his wanting heat.

“I-I,” Jimin whimpers pathetically in his arms, overcome with pleasure and adrenaline. “Jungkook—fuck...” He peeks over his shoulder and tenses at sight of how high up he really is. It adds to the moment, surrendering his entire being to the photographer and laying his whole life on the line. The sheer height is unnerving yet intoxicating. “Deeper, pleaseee. Your cock stretches me so good—shit.” Jimin grabs Jungkook’s biceps and uses them as leverage to rock the younger man’s studded length as deep as he can bare, shaking from the sensation of the heated metal gliding over every ridge of his sensitive tissue.

Jungkook obliges to his wishes and pushes deeper until the bulbous head of his cock lodges inside Jimin's deepest parts. A throaty moan slips through his lips when Jimin's ass clenches down on his length.

“I've dreamed of this for far too long, shit…” He takes a second to get used to the tight warmth, squeezing the blondes flesh between his fingers, hard, before he finally starts to grind his hips into Jimins. "Oh fuck yeah..." he pulls back to look straight at the smaller male, wanting to memorize every single expression he’s able to draw out of him.

”I’ve dreamed of this for so long...” —Jungkook’s words replay in Jimin’s mind while his thighs slap against bare skin, groaning with a new pulse of pleasure. His ring of nerves contracts as he wonders just how long the younger has dreamt of this moment. Weeks? Months? ...years? Jimin cranes his neck to taste Jungkook’s blush-bitten lips, nesting them between his in a feverish and parted exchange, laving his tongue over each other’s.

Is this what he wanted all along? ...Was it everything he hoped for? It certainly is for Jimin. His own cock aches for relief, so incredibly hard and leaking precum.

“Me too,” Jimin confesses through heavy breaths. “Dreamt of you burying this thick cock inside me...christ. I could barely focus at the studio. The tension...mmf...” He chokes back a gasp as the studded mushroom tip sinks deeper. He wets his full lips and holds tight to the taller man, letting him cradle his weight in his arms and move him any way he pleases. He focuses on the erotic stretch of his soft velvety walls as he accommodates the younger’s girth—he’s much bigger than he expected, filling him up completely with barely any room left to maneuver.

“Yeah, that damned studio. I wish I could've had you sooner,” Jungkook confesses mindlessly. His judgement clouds with a haze of lust taking over him. He continuously grinds his hips deeper, stretching out the elders' smooth walls until the glide feels less suffocating. Then he begins to pull out until only the tip is buried inside. “You're mine, Jimin.” Kook possessively nips back at his plush lower lip in between kisses, hands moving from his thick hips to his waist. "My gorgeous little butterfly, I want to be the only one taking your photos...touching you, fucking you.”

“I-I want it...” Jimin’s mind blanks as a wave of euphoric pleasure tears within him. His head rolls to the side and he tries to focus on the moment—on Jungkook. His attention is pulled by the red blink of the recording camera just off to the side. Was the photographer putting on a show, or were his words genuine? He wants to be the only one to fuck him, and...to photograph him? He’s not sure how well his manager would take the news, but the offer is incredibly tempting. Belonging to him, entirely? Putting aside the materialistic items and the glitz and the glam of a public relationship, Jimin feels blazing hot over the idea of being the one object of the man’s desire.

Jimin can’t take it anymore—he reaches down and begins to stroke himself to match the rhythm of Jungkook fucking him deep. “I need you. ...I want you to fill me with your cum.” The pace of his hand on his cock increases as he adoringly looks up and watches sweat glisten on Jungkook’s neck—fluffy black hair dampening and tacking to his forehead.

''It's all yours, Jimin, all yours. Anything you want,'' Jungkook's low words pause as he grunts, his hips maintaining a rougher yet slow pace. ''Everything I can give you, everything I have, it's nothing—it's yours. All I need is for you to be mine.'' He continues, his words barely audible in between his heavy breaths. He means it, he already has it all-- but it’s dull, boring, worthless. All he’s grateful for is that his status brought Jimin to him so easily, the one thing—person that he desired. There isn't a single object Jungkook has ever photographed that was more valuable to him than Park Jimin.

''You need me.'' Jungkook smiles at the elders' whiny words, noting how Jimin's eyes shift to the camera for a short second, licking his lips the moment the attention is back on him. ''You'll always need me, won't you? Tell me.'' It was neither a plea nor a command, but a necessity. With one hand still keeping a hard grip on Jimin's waist, the other reaches down to squeeze Jimin’s hand tight, preventing him from stroking himself. The grasp tightens further, squeezing Jimin's length inbetween their hands—a form of control in the youngers mind, still fucking deep into him. ''Swear it, and I will fuck you full of my cum.''

“Mmf—“ Jimin stifles his groan into Jungkook’s arm as his strong hand holds him tight at the hip. The pressure of the grip makes him tense and release sporadically, causing him to inch his hips forward to try and regain friction. He needs a little more to reach his high, but the feeling of Jungkook’s fat jeweled cock head is dragging against his prostate deliciously, he could probably cum just from the mere thought of it inside him.

“I do, I do, I need you,” Jimin whimpers pathetically. He wants to cum badly but the desire to surrender himself to the photographer supersedes any other. Whether it be for show, impulse or raw passion, Jimin swears with staggered gasps, “I’m all yours, Jungkook. Every bit of me...belongs to you.”

Jungkook glances over at his camera for a split second, his small smirk growing at the blinking red light that greets him. Perfect, he thinks. Now he has everything.

“Perfect,” Jungkook voices out his thoughts in a rumbling groan, removing Jimin's grip to wrap his own tattooed fingers around the latter’s pretty dick, jerking him off without mercy. He pounds harder, faster, deeper into him. “The most gorgeous,” he moans again as frenzied thrusts lose their rhythm. He keeps going, feeling the heat pool in his lower abdomen. “And all mine, gonna fuck you so full of my cum, your body only needs me, shit...!” He throws his head back, lips parting as heavy huffs slip through. Sweat drips down his skin and muscles flex as they're put to hard work. “Gonna cum, f-fuck—say it again Jimin, you’ll see no one else, just me. Say my name.”

Jimin feels small and fragile, precariously balanced on the balcony ledge as Jungkook’s thrusts become sporadic. One false move and he could easily plummet to his death, but he needs to trust. He wants to trust. He’s spent far too long pushing others away to progress his career. It’s tiring. A life without someone has been exhausting, and he’s never felt anything like this before.

He locks in on the younger man’s predatory gaze and gets lost in the intensity of the moment. His heart thumps in his chest faster than the rapid rate in which Jungkook fucks into his sensitive heat. There’s a fire in his feral eyes that makes Jimin think, for just a moment, that perhaps this is moving too fast. But his body is light in Jungkook’s hold, and despite the dangerous circumstance, he feels the safest he’s ever been.

How is that possible?

In a matter of days he’s irrevocably fallen for a stranger—allowed himself to become marked permanently and even begged for more. He doesn’t recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, and if he’s completely honest, he likes it.

“Jungkook, Jungkook,” Jimin pants in a whiney voice, ragged and raw. “I only want you...I want you to own me...ruin me if you want, just—“ He wrenches his eyes shut as his high creeps up and tries to get the words out before Jungkook’s slender hand works him to finish. “Fuck your cum in me, please. I’ve been so good...I need it so bad. Only want to be filled by you.”

Jimin is so good, it has Jungkook foaming at the mouth. There are no other words he could ever imagine wanting to hear more. Actually, that’s a lie...but he'd get there. Jungkook can't handle the way Jimin squeezes around him with such force. It’s as if the blonde's fleshy walls are pleading to be filled with cum, just as much as the man himself wants it. He’s so close, so close...

''Fuck, yes.. You're mine, mine mine!'' Jungkook growls lowly, eyes blown wide with his admiration, his obsession for Jimin. He sloppily snaps his hips into the model’s abused ass, gradually losing the drive he once had. Jungkook feels himself slowly crumble down as he digs deeper into Jimin's clenched insides, desperate to fill him up, desperate to get him to cum too. He keeps a firm grip around Jimin's slick cock, adamant to hurl them both over the edge.

“Cumming,” Is all he manages to cry out—a drawn out, low moan replacing his ability to speak as spurts of white gush into Jimin. “Oh fuck, yeah..” Jungkook keeps his head thrown back as the muscles in his throat strain, adam's apple bobbing heavily in unison with the way his body tenses while disposing of his warm cum into his Jimin. “So good, so fucking good…” He murmurs, eyes closed in bliss. It’s as if he’s in a different world. The darkness gives him the ability to focus solemnly on feeling Jimin's tight ass milk him completely.

Jimin’s aching cock twitches in Jungkook’s grasp as he strokes him rapidly with his own release. Even with eyes closed in blinding pleasure, he can still feel every bulging muscle and pulsing vein in the younger’s arms as his nails dig into them.

“J-Jungkook—cumming for you...” His sweat-slicked abdomen tenses as his orgasm takes hold, causing him to clench sporadically around Jungkook’s spent length, still nested deep within him. “Don’t pull out, don’t—f-uck.” He claws his nails deeper until he feels the skin break beneath them. “Stay inside me, it feels too good...don’t leave yet.” It’s a swirling mixture of gripping bliss and codependence that causes Jimin to nearly sob his needy begs into the younger’s chest.

Jungkook’s fresh piercing drags deliciously against the model’s abused prostate as his high wears thin and his body begins to relax.

“Don’t leave me,” Jimin pleas, pressing his plush lips blindly against any bit of the man’s exposed skin, tasting the salt of his sweat and exertion. “...not yet.”

Jungkook pulls Jimin closer, the clammy skin of their bodies pressing together as he wraps his strong arms around him—pulsating cock still lodged deep inside.

“I'll never leave you,” Jungkook promises, pressing his nose into the damp blonde curls on the crown of Jimin's head. Being connected with his butterfly like this is all he ever wanted. "I'll give you me every day. My cum...my love,” he murmurs, pulling back a bit to grasp Jimin's jaw, guiding him to meet his eyes. “You're mine forever. Okay?” Kook smiles, his toothy grin a contrast of childish joy compared to the fire swirling in his gaze.

Jimin is all his, in every way. Jungkook draws in the blonde by the jaw, kissing his swollen lips softly. A low hum vibrates in the younger's throat, content with the moment. Jimin melts into the kiss, feeling warm and wholly satisfied as Jungkook’s embrace protects him from the night air that slowly wraps around their naked bodies.

“Okay,” Jimin nods with lips still connected. “And you’re mine, Puppy.” He smiles against Jungkook’s lips with a light blush. It’s a bit odd to use the pet name as a genuine term of endearment, but he likes it a lot. It suits the man perfectly—with his sharp bite, innocent gaze and shaggy soft hair.

The sun set. They’re left in the blackness of night with just the thin veil of the moon and twinkling property lights to guide them. He loosens his grip around Jungkook’s arms and lets him slowly withdraw, wincing as the pierced head slides past his ring of nerves. He tenses to keep in the younger’s tacky cum, enjoying the warmth of it inside him. He looks towards the balcony door and back at Jungkook sheepishly. He’s sleepy after the long day, but not ready to crash yet. There’s comfort in this newfound domesticity and he even begins to feel like he’s found a second home. After such an intense scene on the balcony, he can’t resist the desire to remain close and enjoy the evening together.

“Before bed...could you...” His eyes gleam with childish excitement, “Could you teach me how to play Overwatch?” He hates his pathetic defeat in the last round, and while it led to a very eventful night, he needs to prove he can make a comeback.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. ''You want to play Overwatch?'' He asks, even if he clearly heard the question. His smile grows wide, then nods quickly, supporting Jimin by the waist to help him come down from the ledge and on his feet. He thought to carry the model, but is too tired to do so. ''Let's play, but first I think we should take a ahower.''

Jungkook grabs Jimin with one hand, and the camera with the other. Completely unbothered with the scattered clothing and their nudity, he guides Jimin to the bathroom with him and mindlessly stops his recording to begin skimming through it. Perfect, Jungkook thinks, placing the camera on the large sink before turning on the hot shower. He steps inside with Jimin quickly following behind. He sighs in content when the water streams down over their bodies, sweat and other bodily fluids quickly washing down the drain.

“You still got my cum in you?” He asks. With his attention to detail, he realizes he never saw a trace of his spilled cum on the balcony. He steps closer, pressing chests pressing, and snakes his hands around to spread Jimin's cheeks. “Need me to clean it out for you?”

The sudden grasp of Jungkook’s hands on Jimin’s ass makes him jump a little. All that work and the man wants more. It doesn’t seem he could ever get enough.

“Yes,” Jimin replies, barely above a whisper.

The one thing better than feeling Jungkook’s slick cum inside him could be the feeling of It getting fingered out. He has yet to experience the handiwork of the man’s long tattooed fingers. He knows it’ll feel different from his thick cock; slender, yet deft and agile. His pretty length stiffens. His abused prostate aches but the rest of his body is blazing hot and receptive once again. Even after getting fucked hard and ruthlessly, the model is eager to have his tight hole stretched even further. The hot water cascades down his small frame and loosens his muscles to relax for the other man. He inches his ass closer to Jungkook’s ministrations, giving the younger an extra push to do with him as he pleases.

Jungkook hums in approval with the way Jimin hands himself over thoughtlessly. With need, greed, and trust—all at once, giving the younger complete power of his little butterfly.

“Can't have your pretty little ass dripping with my cum all night, can we…” He muses out loud with strong hands twirling Jimin around, firmly pressing him against the tile wall with a flat palm between his shoulder blades. He presses hard, leaving enough room for the model to move his chest away from the cold surface, but tight enough that he’d have trouble breathing. “Or maybe we could…” Jungkook continues, not really expecting any sort of response as his free hand tugs at Jimin's hip, forcing him to arch his back. “Maybe I'll just clean you just to fill you up again.”

Jungkook exhales a shaky breath and sinks his middle finger inside of Jimin, feeling the warmth of his sticky release swirling inside. He presses deeper, forcing the cum to dribble down his hand as the digit takes up all the space.

Jimin’s eyes flutter shut. His tight little ring is sore, but the sting of the stretch feels so good he’s glad the younger is holding him stable against the wall, otherwise he might sink to his knees. The width of Jungkook’s finger fills him deliciously—it’s easy for him to relax further as the digit sinks in deep, forcing the warm cum to slide out and down his thigh.

“J-Jeonnn,” he whines aloud. His needy voice echos off the cold hard tile. He’s not exactly sure what he’s whining for—perhaps something to bite onto. Everything feels too good, all at once—the warmth of the water, the tight press of their bodies, juxtaposed by the chill of the wall. “Your fingers...fuck, Jungkook...” Even still, while he only has one finger inside him, he can’t string together a single coherent thought.

“You like this?” Jungkook's lips curl up into a smile, knowing the answer by the way Jimin shudders and whines under his touch. He shoves his finger in deeper, past the knuckle to slowly massage the elder’s sensitive prostate, forcing more of his cum to dribble out and wash down the drain. “You'll take another, won't you?” He coos, pressing his chest against Jimin's flushed back, teasing soft lips against the blonde's ear. “Want your little hole to always be ready for me.” Jungkook adds a second finger, then a third with some ease from the slick cum coating his digits, pumping them mercilessly into his ass. The wet sounds ricochet off the tiled room. Jungkook presses his body further against Jimin's—the hand that once pushed on the elders back now wraps around his own cock to stroke himself in tandem to the pace of which he fucked his fingers into Jimin. “Fuck, I can't get enough of you.”

The heat of Jungkook’s breath and the tight press of his chest makes Jimin’s body tense with arousal. He can hear the slick sounds of the younger man pleasuring himself as he fucks his long fingers in and out torturously.

“A-are you going to—“ he cuts himself off, realising just how pathetic he would sound, begging for cock once again. But he can feel the brush of Jungkook’s hard length against his ass as he works it steadily with his other hand. It’s too distracting not to think about. “A-are you going to fuck me with your big cock?” He’s never been so needy for anyone, always taking care of himself when the mood strikes. However, he can’t picture a world where he’s alone forever after experiencing the way Jungkook possesses every dip and curve of his body.

Jungkook's lower lip becomes swollen from biting on it so much, eyes widen at Jimin's needy state. The elder seems completely consumed by every touch, and it makes him feel so powerful. Jeon Jungkook knew power. He had it all. But none of it compared to this. Having power of another human being on such a deep level. Jimin needs him, and him only. And right now, all the blonde needs is his cock.

"Yeah." Jungkook simply states. "Gonna fuck you again, and again and again until your insides are shaped for my cock only.” Jungkook withdraws his fingers from Jimin's hole, quickly replacing it with his cock by driving his hips forward, filling up the blonde with one swift motion. A low moan slips past his lips, with one palm flat on the wet tile next to Jimin's head, seeking leverage while the other hand firmly grips his hip.

Jimin’s small hole is gaped and hungry for Jungkook to drive in deep. It’s all he can think about until he’d had it; then, it’s pure gut-wrenching pleasure.

“Fuck me hard, please, pleeease,” the blonde begs in pitchy moans, voice quavering each time Jungkook’s hips slap against his pert ass. He winces as the pace increases without warning. It’s a pleasure in every sense of the word to be used by the photographer like this. He can feel the sting of his fresh tattoo as the hot water hits it between light rubs into the chilled wall. Each time it’s grazed by hot and cold, Jimin is reminded of the permanent claim the younger has on his body, and the matching claim he has over his.

Jimin rolls his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock and shudders as his walls contract around the hot prodding barbell. “Wanna cum just from your cock. Gah—” He rolls his hips faster, rushing to reach his high at an impatient speed. “Use me,” he pants, barely above a whisper as he begins to lose control of his hoarse voice.

"Shit...you're such a slut." Jungkook growls out as his overgrown fringe hangs over his eyes and looks down at the way his cock disappears into Jimin's ass. “Your hole is so greedy—fuck, squeezing and sucking me in like it never wants me to leave." He’s just as greedy, wet skin smacking against Jimin’s, echoing loudly in the room.

Needy for more momentum, the younger takes a step back, pulling Jimin's ass with him in one hand and pushing his back down into a stable position. “Arch your back for me baby."

Jimin does as he’s told without question, just the way his partner likes it. Jungkook places both of his strong hands on Jimins ass cheeks and spreads them to properly see his cock drill in and out. His clawing grasp taints Jimins skin red, fucking into his abused hole with more strength, tugging the boy’s hips back to meet his powerful thrusts.

“A cockslut. Jeon Jungkooks personal little cumdump. That's what you want to be, isn't it? Haa.." Kooks muscles tense up, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool in his lower abdomen. He desperately chases the feeling, paying no mind to Jimin’s aching cock. He'd cum anyway, especially with the way the younger's thick, pierced tip repeatedly jams against his prostate.

Jimin swears his knees could buckle with each new punishing thrust of the younger’s heavy cock. He can already feel his orgasm building as his smaller frame is bent and contorted to be used, walls pulsing around the swollen shaft.

“Yes! Y-yes!” Jimin arches his back deep to grant the other man all the leverage he needs to push in entirely, sinking his reddened tip nice and deep, causing Jimin to drool onto the tiled floor. “I’m a cockslut...I’m your fucking cumdump...”

As he’s fucked dumb Jimin abstains from touching himself. Without looking, he knows he’s painfully hard, dripping pre-cum. “Feel my tight ass gripping you...s-shit—your fat cock stretches me so good.” He peeks over his shoulder and watches Jungkook nip his bottom lip so tight that he’s sure the skin is breaking. Jungkook’s cheeks look hot and dewy from exertion; small beads of combined sweat and water drip down his soaked fringe and trail down his tensed muscles. “Gonna—oh, god...” the blonde strains against Jungkook’s hold and cums untouched, streaking his release down the tile wall, cut off by the younger cursing and stilling within him, so close to pushing every drop into his spent hole. “C-cum in me,” he whines, feeling the younger swell within him as his pitch gets louder. “Please, please, pleaseee.” He locks eyes with Jungkook and loses himself in his dark feral orbs. “Fill me up again...and again—“

Jungkook's eyes remain open, focusing on Jimin's desperate face as he cums, buried to the hilt, ensuring his blonde receives every single drop of what he has to offer. His cock throbs heavily and cum erupts like a volcanic explosion, thick and hot inside. "Oh my god, my little butterfly."

His throaty, strained moan reverberates as he empties himself inside, smoothing his large hands across Jimin's back before wrapping around his torso, pulling him up and holding him close against his flushed chest. A soft kiss on his neck follows before Jungkook pulls himself out with a quiet whine of oversensitivity.

"You're so perfect for me," Jungkook praises, wasting no time in carelessly shoving his fingers inside Jimin to prod the cum out, letting most of it simply dribble out and wash down the drain. “Still down for overwatch? I'm not sleepy…”

Jimin stretches and feels his body become slack with exhaustion. It has been a LONG day. He doesn’t care much for the game himself, but any opportunity to see Jungkook’s childish joy is a coveted one. Plus, he has to get better so he could beat him one day. The man is good at everything, he muses internally, recalling the beautiful photography sets he made just for him. There has to be a weak point somewhere.

“I’ll need one of your bananamilks if I’m going to stay awake much longer,” he yawns, resting against the younger’s side as they walk into the living room. “And then get ready to fight for your life, Jeon,” he smiles. “I won’t go easy on you.”

Jungkook hands Jimin a cozy bathrobe to wear to the living room and opts for boxers for himself. He’s generally warm, and nothing beats sitting in your couch, gaming in only his underwear. Well, maybe being naked, but that'd be cheating if he taunted the blonde with his goods during an Overwatch session.

“Let me get some, you start up the game okay?” Jungkook points towards the large TV as he diverts from their path to go find the fridge. He pulls out a couple bananamilks—more than one is surely going to be needed, at least for him. He shoves a few drinks into his arms as he carries them to the living room, letting them plop down on the glass table in front of the couch. “Alright, drink up, let's do practice rounds first to warm you up.” He grabs a drink for himself and sips on it as he raises a coy eyebrow towards Jimin.

Jimin exhales a big yawn and stretches one arm to the ceiling while the other brings the sweet milk to his lips. He takes a couple gulps and lets the cool liquid swirl along his taste buds, already familiar with the taste, nearly addicted to the artificial flavor.

"Practice rounds?" He blinks up at Jungkook with glassy eyes, snuggling deeper into his fluffy and luxurious robe to get cozy. He sets the sugary drink aside and grips the controller with both hands, ready to try his best. "No bets, this time around," he winks at the younger man, "After I beat you, it's time for bed."

Jungkook fake pouts, slumping down on the couch with his controller in one hand and his drink in the other, chugging it down fast. “One bet. The winner gets backrubs.” He glances over at Jimin with his childish grin, finishing off his milk before starting the game.

"Hmf." Jimin smiles ahead at the tv screen and fiddles with the controller in his hands, already sweating, having lost in his mind. Why did he propose this idea? He must be a glutton for punishment because there is no way he can win against the younger. Yet... "One bet," Jimin emphasizes with one finger, "But if there's backrubs on the line, just know, I will try my best to win." He's overly ambitious. Even when he knows he's complete shit at the game, he can't help but fully commit to everything he does, whether it be a quick round of Overwatch or a spontaneous tattoo.

“Bet you'd love that. I'm great at back rubs,” Jungkook counters, nudging the elders shoulder with his own before he starts the match. “Okay, best out of three. I'm a bit tired.” He admits, rubbing his eye with one hand before grappling at his controller the second the round starts. Kook loves back rubs, but in all honesty, there isn't much else he wants than to be on the giving end in this... He knows he can easily have his way without the bet, but there is this part of him that feels more satisfied if it is earned.

As the match carries on, he shows no mercy on the first round. Second round, he slacks slightly, giving Jimin the illusion of getting better. Actually, he is getting better. Kook can tell Jimin tries really hard, but in the end, he’s still no match compared to the younger. Now Jungkook wants to lose. So, on the last round, he deliberately slacks off and gives his reactions more time as he eventually would be at a disadvantage.

“Damn…” He chuckles as if he wasn't just allowing Jimin to absolutely crush him.

Jimin tucks his lip in concentration, feeling a small bead of sweat trail down his craned neck. He squints his eyes to see the screen clearly—everything is moving so quick he doesn’t fully compute his next move until it’s already made. But his efforts seem to pay off, surprisingly.

“A-am I winning?” he asks, aghast. He can barely believe it, but he isn’t one to argue with a good thing. He haphazardly mashes the buttons on his controller, physically moving it to the motion of his character on the screen. His head tilts to the side to follow the virtual battle until it’s confirmed—he won. He sets down his controller with a shy smile and looks up at Jungkook with puppy eyes. “You’re a good teacher, Jeon. Too good.” He stands from the couch and nods his head towards the direction of the bedroom. “I’m ready for my reward now.”

Jungkook groans in his fake annoyance, throwing the controller to the side as he stands up, quickly wrapping his arms around Jimin only to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom.

“You did well, Jimin-aaaah~'' He draws out the endearing twist to the elders name, knowing it will make him a bit flustered, however, certain he’ll love it.

Jimin is so small, and despite the muscular build, he’s light in Jungkook's arms. The photographer kicks the door closed behind them with his heel, approaching the large bed and gently placing the blonde down on the soft sheets.

“I'm a decent big spoon, just saying.”

“I know,” Jimin smiles, remembering the previous night. Jungkook held him close and breathed heavily in his sleep, utterly dead to the world. It’s as if his presence made the younger sleep deeply, or at least that’s how Jimin likes to remember it.

Jimin touches his own cheeks to feel the heat radiate off them. He’s an absolute puddle after Jungkook said his name. It seems that now it only takes the smallest bit of effort from the younger to make him pliant and soft. With his easy defeat and the way Jungkook happily slung him over his shoulder, Jimin wonders just what’s gotten into him. Must be the sugar rush off the bananamilk, he thinks.

Jimin wriggles out of his robe and crawls under the covers, warming his body within the plush designer material. “I make a great little spoon,” he smiles, contentedly nestled in the warm embrace of the oversized bedding, “...so I’ve been told.”

Jungkook manages to keep his face straight, for the most part. His lips twitches, not so subtly displeased with the sentence, '...so I've been told.’ He’s not surprised that Jimin has likely had many partners in his past, but he will surely be the last.

He joins Jimin underneath the covers and presses his warm skin against the blonde's small back. Kook's hands reach between them, smoothing his palm across the fine, prominent line showcasing Jimin's spine... He thinks that sometime he should get a proper photograph of this visual.

“I'd love to have your back tattooed as well,” Kook adds, not exactly directing his words towards Jimin himself—more so discussing out in the air, all while his hand mindlessly rub up and down, feeling every dent and curve of Jimin's body.

Jimin closes his eyes and enjoys the slow sensation of Jungkook rubbing him, from the wide expanse of his shoulder blades down to the small dip of his lower back. A small moan presses from his lips as the pressure builds around the tensed muscles of his deep tissue, then softens around his delicate spine. It's all the more reason to fall so quick and deep with the photographer. He can be rough and treat Jimin like he isn't a breakable model, then treat him like the most precious and fragile being on earth. He's soft and sweet yet wholly motivated and demanding at times. Perhaps it's his sleepy state of mind, but Jimin instantly nods in agreement, committing to the plan. Even if Jungkook's musing wasn't directed at anyone in particular, he is interested in what exactly the younger has in mind.

"What would you like to mark onto my back?" He asks, rolling his hips gently into the crook of Jungkook's groin.

Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the small sound emitting from Jimin's plushy lips, and the way the elder gently presses against it surely doesn't do anything but spur his erection to awaken. One would say he's insatiable, but truly he's never been this hungry for a person before.

“I would love…” Kook inches his hips closer, making it known that he's already feeling needier by the second. “A snake,” he adds with a low voice. His calloused fingertips trace from Jimin's shoulder down to the dimples on his lower back. “All the way down.” His hand movee to settle on Jimin's hips, softly digging his fingers into his skin to feel how the flesh protrudes between his digits. He presses his hardened cock against the blondes ass as a quiet sigh slips past his lips—the memory of being inside is still fresh on his mind. Seemingly, his cock remembers vividly as well. “I'd love to see it every time I play with you.”

Jimin rolls his hips again, deliberate and tight against Jungkook's hardening length. "Mhm," he hums. "Okay, I'll get it." The mere thought of the man playing with him over and over while his hardened cock grinds against his bare ass makes Jimin's arousal pit in the hollow of his stomach. He melts into the younger's touch as he grips and holds tight to his hips. Less and less, Jimin worries about the repercussions of his actions. If it feels right, he's doing it. The same philosophy goes for his clothing line, and it extends to each new step he takes with the photographer. He reaches between his thighs and palms his aching length, so desperate and needy for more relief. "You can mark me with whatever you want."

"I know." Jungkook breathes into Jimin's neck. Huffs fan against Jimin’s skin, hot and shallow, and hands travel down further to his ass, shamelessly grabbing at the plump cheek. "I will mark every inch of your body one way or the other. You're mine, right?" Kook presses a soft kiss on Jimin's neck, loving the way his body shudders slightly under his simple touch.

"Yes, sir," Jimin breathes, arching his back so his ass is flush with Jungkook's aching shaft. "I'm yours to mark and claim and fuck." At the peak of his desperation, Jimin says whatever comes to mind, paying no mind to how needy he sounds. It's so late and all his body wants is to be impossibly close to the other man, by any means. He wraps his hand around his rock-hard cock and strokes languidly, muffling his pitchy moans into a nearby pillow.

"That's right." Jungkook whispers into Jimin's ear before lightly sucking his earlobe between his teeth, giving it a playful tug. Kook glances down at his clothed cock, aching and staining the fabrics with droplets of his precum. “Fuck...you already got me wet again." He chuckles through a breathy sigh, not hesitating to undress, freeing his heavy length to fall onto Jimin's bare ass. He uses his hands to spread Jimin, just enough to place his cock against the puffy hole, rubbing his entire length between the plump cheeks in a teasing manner. His hips move lazily with no care to how needy his own sleepy, raspy groans must sound. "I'm gonna fuck you again. I'm sure your little hole doesn't need any preparation this time, no?"

Jimin shakes his head; face buried deep in the soft pillow. He quickens his pace, stroking his throbbing cock as Jungkook lines himself up and prods his glistening tip at his entrance. Without much coaxing, the younger slips inside, using the glide of his precum to ease in and out with shallow prods. Jimin's mouth falls open as he tries to compose his thoughts, but the words fall out into the open as filthy little confessions, telling the younger exactly how he'd like to be used.

"Fuck me slow...and deep. Please." He whimpers into the pillow, clutching it desperately in his free hand while the other works his own precum over his reddened tip, teasing the receptive head of his cock while Jungkook plays with his ass. The soreness from earlier has completely subsided. All he feels is an overwhelming desire to be connected to Jungkook at all times; to be insatiable, together. "Cum in me. I'll keep it warm—fuck..." His breaths become uneven and labored as he strokes his hand down his shaft in a smooth motion. "...fill my ass. Wanna feel you inside me while I sleep."

Jungkook adores Jimin's filthy mouth. The more riled up the blonde gets, the filthier his language becomes; needy, begging and whiny… He doesn't say anything, but responds with actions. He grasps Jimin's leg and lifts it up slightly to grant himself access, slowly thrusting himself in deeper—jewelry on his swollen tip grazing the deepest parts with ease. His other hand is used as a cushion for his head as he lays on his side, hand tugging at the back of Jimin's curls to bring his ear closer to his lips.

"You may keep fucking your hand all you want, but be wise with your orgasm.'' Jungkook moans when he feels Jimin's ass clench around cock, moving in and out of him at a tortuously slow pace. ''But I won't stop if you cum too fast into your pretty little hand...fuck...I can fall asleep like this, cock buried in you, using you like my own little cockwarmer." He let go of Jimin's hair, laying his head down comfortably on the pillow as he hookw the elders leg over his hip, lazily grinding his hips into his ass, low breathy moans taking over his ability, or want, to speak.

"But Jungkookieee," Jimin whimpers aloud, unable to reel in the tone of his voice once the younger man slowly drags his thick cock in and out of his tight hole torturously slow. The fresh piercing glides against his velvet walls and teases his sensitive prostate; swollen and throbbing from overuse. Jimin pumps his dick occasionally but temporarily refrains from going too fast out of fear he might cum too soon. He was already so close when Jungkook entered him that he could cum just from the delicious stretch.

"Mmf--" Jimin muffles his needy noises into the pillow and focuses on their connection, hot breath and sinful praises falling from Jungkook's cherry lips as he melds their bodies together with a gentle roll of his hips. "G-gonna..." He smothers his face in the pillow and starts to stroke himself when the pleasure becomes too much to bear. "Gonna cum around your cock...Gonna—ahh—" He loses his composure and shakily shoots his release into his small hand, smearing the fluid messily as he clenches, then lets go of everything.

If Jimin hadn’t been used three times already, Koo could have been less considerate. He would have wanted the elder to continue to stroke himself through the oversensitivity, but he'd been so good. Koo decides to just let Jimin relax and take what the younger one gives.

"I love the sounds you make. You sound so desperate for me... fuck..." Jungkook's hips grind faster, no longer pulling out all the way, instead keeping himself snug and deep inside as he shallowly drives his pelvis against Jimin's ass, piercing still prodding and abusing the elders prostate. "Keep squeezing, keep going, I'll cum..." Jungkook moans through his dampened lips, swollen from biting down on them. "Oh, fuck... you're so tight, I'm gonna cum—" his low words break into a silence, heavy breaths replacing them as he grabbed Jimin harshly only to press his hips flush against his ass, reaching as deep as possible. His cock desperately throbs inside of Jimin, gushing with spurts of his thick, sticky cum claiming it's spot. "Mine..." Jungkook whispers, letting go of Jimin and wrapping his arm around to hug him. He keeps his pulsating cock lodged inside to keep all the cum securely in place. "You're so cute. It's the third time today and you're still so so needy... ahh, you're perfect for me." He mumbles as he presses his cheek against the pillow, closing his eyes to finally get some sleep.

Jimin pulsates around Jungkook's cock as it remains deep inside his abused hole. He feels calm and secure, connected together, used for the photographer's pleasure. He could slip off to sleep at any moment, but the sticky mess tacking his hand to his slick cock distracts him from fully surrendering to his heavy eyelids.

"W-wait." He remembers back to Jungkook's personal studio—how wide his deep brown eyes got when Jimin crawled on hands and knees to lap his own cum off the floor. Jimin lifts his sticky hand from his twitching cock and looks over his shoulder at Jungkook. The man is already halfway asleep, but his eyes are open to slits, watching him patiently. "Look how hard you made me cum, Jeon..." He holds his dripping fingers to the light and marvels at how the thick fluid slides down his palm. Before it falls onto his wrist, he captures it on his tongue, flattening it on his skin for the younger to see. "Mm," he moans, moving his hand to lick away every drop.

Jungkook's doe eyes widen at the sight, swirling with admiration. Jimin truly was perfect, everything he wants and needs. "C'mere," he sleepily whispers as he reaches to grasp Jimin's chin, turning the man’s neck to draw him in for a kiss, humming in content at the taste of the elders' release mixed with their spit. Jungkook pulls back with a coy smile and eyes, struggling to stay open as he buries his face in Jimin's back, arm secured around him as he remains still inside, keeping his cum from seeping out. "Goodnight baby," Kook murmurs into the smaller man's back, mouthing a silent 'I love you' before pressing his lips against his clammy skin, quickly drifting off to dreamland.

#fic: mused obsession #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #jungkook x jimin #jikook #jikook smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts mxm #bts mxm smut #kookmin #kookmin smut #sombreboy #chimoona

203 notes · View notes

uwua3 · 5 years ago

Note

Hi Bunnie! Your Misumi jealousy headcanon was so so amazing! Would it be okay to request the same hc but for Kazu, Tenma + Taichi? Ty and can't wait to see more from you! 🐰

oh my gosh! thank you so much!!! that makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed it; tbh i was a bit nervous due to the different take on misumi’s more thoughtful, erratic side so i’m glad it wasn’t too ooc! for you, i’d love to do a jealous hc for kazunari, tenma, and taichi! let’s GOOO !!!

summary: everyone gets their heart broken, and you were the cause of their broken hearts

warnings: anxiety, cheating, fake/toxic relationships, heartbreak, unrequited love

author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for your support ♡ this is definitely on the longer side for sure, i hope it’s worth the read!!!

i explored different types of jealousy for each person and how it would affect their daily lives! sometimes, the best thing to do is not act on your impulses. is it really worth losing a relationship with someone over? arguably, the only person with a “happy ending” would be taichi~ fair warning!

word count: 4,799 (total) — 2,078 (kazunari), 1,616 (tenma), 1,105 (taichi)

music: ghost heart – closure (kazunari), shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t – niki, rich brian (tenma), needs – verzache (taichi)

jealousy (pt.1)

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was so hard to always thrive off the attention of others when it was exhausting keeping a smile up

sure, kazunari was a burden when he was excited with his nonstop, loud rant about whatever he learned in his liberal arts university... but people seemed to like him even less when he was quiet and contemplative. he was the butt of the joke, so he had to fake it until he made it

he’d rather be the funny jokester of the group and be remembered as the tolerated clown than forgotten completely

kazunari wanted people to come to him, be his friend, and find him important in their life. kazunari wanted to be everyone’s favorite, the #1, the name you’d say when asked who your best friend was

but no one liked him like that. no one looked to him first when a joke was made to check if he was laughing, everyone assumed he was. but it was so much energy to keep this happy go lucky act and it began taking away from his art

envy made up every cell of his being as he saw groups of supportive friends, students congratulated in front of the class, and just happiness in general. kazunari was always jealous, he wanted so much. he wanted someone to be his best friend

and then, you aced the role with no auditions needed. you made the cut, you entered his life as kazunari’s best friend

you made an effort to include him in group activities, responded to his over–the–top DMs with too many emojis, and even amused him with his spontaneous ideas like road trips to the next town over for the hell of it

it didn’t matter if he called you at the crack of dawn, you picked up before the last ring with just as much enthusiasm to go wherever to make lifelong memories

kazunari didn’t have to pretend like he was full of energy around you, because he was! you charged him up to his full battery and he wouldn’t stop moving until he had you to himself for a few hours

at first, it started out by staying a little bit longer after group project meetings, offering to get absolutely buzzed on overpriced hipster coffee he had to perfect as a barista, and exchanging obvious notes in class while getting in trouble for snickering way too loud

then it became seeing premieres of movies kazunari honestly didn’t care about, he just wanted to do the yawn trick without getting made fun of. he liked dramatically fighting over the popcorn with you before pretending to give up, knowing damn well at the end he’d let you have all his snacks. movies became any event possible: single mixers that were just them huddling in a corner planning to make the most memorable exit ever, mall trips that had inappropiate fashion shows in the dressing rooms before getting kicked out, even beach visits year–round and complaining when the temperatures were too extreme but still having the sickest bonfire

all these moments were posted on his private, more personal instagram where his feed would have your face in every row (he also posted the extremely candid shots of you, he was sneaky with his camerawork). everyone with a social media account knew you guys were platonic soulmates, people destined to meet each other and be by their side for every lifetime

it moved into territory like bringing you to his favorite secret hideouts. eventually, it came down to places he knew his other friends would trash and poke fun at. he began trusting you with his most prized places. his safe space that became yours as well

even his art studio rented out at the border of the urban city with a water–damaged wooden floor. you would drop by everytime he didn’t respond to your text within 10 minutes, with plenty of food because you knew kazunari gets into an obsessive state with completing a project in one sitting. he let you in without a second thought even though you had the spare key; now you were lounging upon a thrifted sofa staring at the sunset

golden hour was gorgeous on you, kazunari thought out of no where, shocking him to the core when he nearly dropped his paintbrush onto the plastic covers. get a hold of yourself man! whatever, he always hyped you up, it wasn’t a big deal. it was just usually, intentional

you didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through your phone as your shadow giggled at something on screen. kazunari felt sick (and it wasn’t the cheap takeout), he hated not being in on the joke and getting left out. jealousy brewed at the pit of his stomach as he faked a childish huff to get your attention. you didn’t look over, too busy sending a meme to someone

“whatchu laughing at?” kazunari asked curiously as he resumed painting, to which you fidgeted under his gaze. shrugging nonchalantly, you pocketed your phone that pinged with a notification. the vibration caused you to read the screen immediately without a second thought. huh...

“just some guy.” you offhandedly mentioned, opening some dating app kazunari could pinpoint. he didn’t know you even liked those types of meet–ups, he dropped his brush this time before fumbling to pick it up as cool as possible

pretending to pay attention to the painting, he lost focus as he glanced at your frame. you looked so relaxed, so casual, who were you so close to? you always told him about the few partners you had, this one threw him for a loop

“guy? don’t tell me my best friend is falling in love~!” kazunari quipped, feigning a pose of shock like it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. honestly, maybe it was, or he was a damn good actor and those hours of practice were working. maybe they were if his best friend couldn’t even see past his facade

you blushed at the implication, but didn’t deny it. you just muttered something about having privacy and rolling over to your side, continuing to text at an inhuman speed

kazunari frowned slightly, drawing his eyebrows together as he couldn’t help but steal glances at your backside. usually he got a joke, a confirmation he was basically your boyfriend, and they both hysterically laughed about it at the end of the day. not this time, apparently

this time, it was different. next time he saw you wasn’t sitting next to him in class, or beneath his arm hiding from the scary film on the projector, it was at the café you frequented to see him. except, you were with someone else. kazunari hadn’t seen you in so long, ever since you were caught messaging someone else

you ordered the same thing as always, you didn’t even have to ask before kazunari had it ready for you. but his whole personality was jittery, like he accidentally ate the entire stock of cacao beans raw. he stammered and his tone fell flat, contrasting his lively speech and flair for drama. he looked... overwhelmed

kazunari spilt your date’s drink last second, his chaotic mind barely controlling his limbs as he knocked over the order. as you tried helping him, every customer saw kazunari hide back in the shell he tried so hard to break. he simply shook his head and delivered his customer service monologue about being very sorry and the next one was on the house

there was at least in attempt in sounding cheerful, but coach would’ve definitely cursed him out for his terrible performance. he knew he was showing too much teeth right now and his eyes were too big to be genuine, but he couldn’t do anything else without his foot tapping repetitively

when you shot him concerned side–eyes from their usual table by the window, you looked different in the orange–hued sky. you were gorgeous in golden hour, kazunari bitterly thought as he wiped down the surfaces until he could see his teary eyes staring back with disgust. he was letting his guard down in front of everyone, how lame

he could hear your walls coming down, you becoming attached to the hip with that date of yours as you two became the only customers left. he heard it all, the flirting, the conversations that would definitely lead to you going back to their place with them. he excused himself to his indifferent manager before hiding in the employee stall, sliding his back down against the wall to sit down on the cold tile floor

kazunari found dates boring. all they led to was him getting his unfinished meal in styrofoam boxes and taking an uber to your place to spill what happened like it was a daily struggle. you laughed and laughed, never having stories of your own since kazunari lived through a lifetime of them for the tall tales

kazunari wanted to go back to that, when both of you were single and laughing together about how absolutely dumb committed relationships were. who else would they need besides each other? kazunari remembered asking, knowing all they could trust in was each other forever

but more importantly, maybe kazunari wanted to be more than your best friend. you were the one who cured his constant artist’s blocks with just words of affirmation, the heartfelt gestures making his serotonin levels skyrocket to oblivion before maxing out on the motivation to create anything that would make your efforts worth it

kazunari thought he just did his best with his friends by his side. but, was it normal for friends to feel like this? kazunari began imagining a painting of a figure, of someone that looked like you, except they were so far away and out of his reach. he wanted to jump through the frame and find you, manifest you for him only

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the face to resemble anything like yours, like you weren’t his to claim creative rights over anymore

kazunari was jealous. jealous of how easily passerbys fell in love with the way you made anyone feel like they were the main character of their own story. kazunari felt stupid, like he was your comic relief sidekick who so desperately would do anything to be your final love interest

alone, kazunari laughed pitifully to himself as he picked his head up to hear your voice through the thin walls. whatever elaborate joke you were playing on him, it wasn’t funny in the slightest

he only wanted you to laugh with him, hell, he’d go make a fool of himself at any time even if meant you laughed at him

you weren’t one of his artworks, yet you were a masterpiece compared to any canvas he could have made in his entire career

kazunari wanted to paint you in all the colors possible, make you see how you were the rainbow after his rainy life

pushing himself up, kazunari stumbled out of the bathroom before shaking his head. it wasn’t worth it, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? you’re still his best friend, you just loved someone else, that’s all. all he ever wanted was a best friend, why wasn’t he satisfied with that?

when would he stop being jealous? (when would he be your #1 boy? he thought against his will)

taking a deep breath to compose himself, kazunari smiled and waved at the new couple. he saw the relief on your face before you resumed the discussion with the most animated expression he hadn’t seen in a long time. he couldn’t even recall when

everything would go back to normal before you became kazunari’s best friend. you would begin hanging out with the other person more, taking them to all kazunari’s best events. you would eventually stop answering his calls because it interfered with the other person’s schedule. you’d have plans outside of him, and kazunari would go back to being by himself. he’d keep going on dates and stay till the end this time, searching for his #1

(he would have to mute your account after seeing your posts with them, but he never told you that)

kazunari heard something other than you. he looked towards the window: it was raining again, again, and again. he opened his smartphone to take a picture:

kaz–PIKO [new post!]: i hope this rain ends soon!!!

it didn’t, at least, not for a very long time

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

tenma was what you would call, gifted. grew up with successful, charistmatic parents who watched his every move like a hawk, never giving him the time to improve from his mistakes

so every time he didn’t immediately get something, he’d give up and find other things to beat others at

the only thing he did that was acceptable to his father was acting, so he never looked back

tenma became a headliner of countless blockbuster movies and walked the red carpet as a fabricated actor with no authenticity

magazines labelled tenma as the playboy with on & off again relationships, although they were staged by his label to make him appear like some heartbreaker

truth was, he’s just like every other high school student who was really bad at focusing on academics (and had definitely not been in a real relationship)

but tenma was famous, fake friends came and went every time his popularity rose, hitting him up for favors. it was okay, he was famous, anyways. it’s not like he needed a bunch of no–bodies

at least, that’s what he told himself every time he sat with his parents at awards banquets with no one to share his success

(tenma was not jealous at all of stars with full rows of people of their friends who were always so loud and supportive)

(it wasn’t awkward going up on stage to receive a trophy with only polite clapping in the background)

you got cast as tenma’s next love interest

you were supposed to be a fake relationship that lasted longer than every other person he’s been with before

you were an up and coming actress full of potential and enthusiasm to boot, ready to take on in the industry like you were the biggest threat around

but it was clear, you loved acting

you loved playing different characters like they were an extension of yourself, paying close attention to other people’s habits so you could incorporate it in your own persona

it was strange—meeting someone who loved acting at its core and didn’t do it for the money. most people wanted their name in lights, drama with them in the middle, to have an adoring fanbase. who actually liked acting as an art form?

tenma was sure you were just hiding something, lying about your sweetheart public image to gain fans

you and tenma became public by having a public brunch date (tenma hated brunch, it was so pointless!) where photographers hid in bushes to take expensive pictures of tenma’s newest girl

tenma at first put on a facade, pretending to be the cocky star everyone made him out to be by flexing his muscles with a charming but practiced wink. why not, right? every girl loved that!

all of a sudden, you were gripping the tablecloth, dying laughing as you tried your best to stifle your outrageous response. tenma grew hot under the collar when it was clear you were very much a real, hard to hide your feelings type person off screen

immediately, he told you off in an aggressive manner but before he could apologize for being so suddenly boyish, you retorted back just as quickly. the friendly banter between you two sent sparks flying from the electric energy

those staged acts didn’t have any effect on you (unless he was in the mood for some serious jokes which he gladly fought back) so a genuine friendship formed

due to you both being competitive at heart, you guys were always caught in a friendly rivalry where you two shared real bonding moments together

your chemistry was off the charts (your managers were both very pleased with the outcome, oblivious to tenma’s defensive no ways!)

tenma’s favorite memory was ditching a panel interview without his parent’s permission to go blow his money on a popular chain arcade im the mall he could most definitely afford with his credit card. it was impulse but he texted you the address and miracously, you showed up on your own

both of you wore the worst disguises possible: snapbacks and funky graphic tee shirts as if you two were just regular students. tenma tried everything that even caught his eye, and you knew he wasn’t entirely happy with anything he got despite winning ten games already

clearly he wasn’t getting distracted enough, something must have happened on set

so you made a bet, whoever won the basketball hoops game would take all the tickets. you knew this would ignite the competitive flame within tenma

“you’re on!” tenma declared, shaking your hand with a firm grip and wolfish grin. that would be one of the last times tenma saw you as “one of the boys”

it was when you finally won against his bruised ego but chose a prize for him that tenma realized, he liked you for you. normally, he’d be showering his fake partner with stuffed animals before being ditched on the street corner, the plastered smiles gone and replaced with nasty annoyance

(he’d never admit it, but even the fake affection was nice while it lasted)

no one really liked him for him, he was just another famous teen actor with passable looks to be the side boyfriend

yet, you still got him something despite winning, giving him the plant and ignoring his surprised face

it wasn’t expensive, but it was the most meaningful gift he’s ever received

it was the first time tenma was given a present like that: a tiny bonsai tree

“maybe that’ll teach you some responsibility!” you joked, pushing him teasingly as he just stared at the little tree, feeling like something inside grew as well

he ignored it by challenging you to a DDR tournament (you won, again)

tenma began seeing the bonsai as a symbol of your friendship with him, and it felt good to finally have someone who would go out of their way to be his friend

(as a result, the bonsai was as healthy as ever)

but maybe, his macho–man act turned you off the wrong way and made him seem like a spoiled rich kid. you never could open up seriously about problems you had without laughing at tenma’s serious face, always messing up his bright orange hair and calling him a loser

tenma was tired of being a kid in your eyes, he wanted to be your manly boyfriend that wasn’t just a legacy actor

he was jealous every time you talked about your actual friends from home, who you shared everything with and made them out like they were the best people on the planet

it was silly, but did you think about him like that? did your friends even know you were with him?

tenma, for the first time, wanted a relationship that was more than just a publicity stunt. he wanted to be your boyfriend, more than just the faker

he wanted to meet your friends, then your family, and learn more about who you actually were. know what you were made up of, past the glamarous movie lifestyle he knew too well

tenma wanted to stop lying to the media because you deserved the truth

tenma wanted to recite his script about love but mean it, pretending like he was staring into your eyes and delivering the best performance of his life (if you ignore the fact he almost said your name)

but every time you guys went out, you acted like you were a babysitter and tenma was a child. you never could see him as a potential partner, just a rival who reacted like a brother would

but you read his behavior all wrong

(though honestly, tenma took every opportunity possible to have you close, because he knew you’d never be his again)

by the time the contract was up, tenma was too late. you were ruffling his hair and smiling like a sibling would, commenting on how fun it was to be with him and he could call you up anytime for tutoring. to you, he was just some high schooler who needed you to study with

but to tenma, he had caught feelings and there was nothing he could do about it

tenma would soon see the tragic news titles of how japan’s favorite it–couple split and you moved onto someone else

(someone much more serious and cool than he was, unfortunately)

tenma began booking roles in much more different films, ones with much more somber tones and melancholy scenes that fit his jealousy perfectly (he was often reviewed as having a “real connection” to his character, like he lived through the pain)

tenma noticed the way you were around the same age as your idol partner, how you actually held his hand while blushing for once. you even kissed them and hugged them in front of the cameras, which you refused to do with tenma, saying it would be weird to kiss a kid

tenma was jealous. jealous how he wasn’t as grown up as you wanted him to be. how he wasn’t mature and had a fiery temper and didn’t think things through. but his next partner was assigned and he had an outing with them soon

as soon as tenma met up with them, he flashed a picture perfect smile and heard the cameras flash behind him. they seemed to like that

his new partner didn’t question a thing as tenma addressed them by your name without noticing

that day, tenma came home to his bonsai dying, despite watering it properly

tenma gave up on you, despite the jealousy. if he wasn’t good at this dating game, there was no need to try anymore

he didn’t return back to that arcade for a while

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

the moment taichi saw you, he was convinced you were the one like every hopeless romantic out there

he was literally blown away. the wind picked up stronger when he saw you and he swore he saw red hearts around you

pretending to skateboard like he was just passing by, he bumped into you on veludo way and pretended like he had no idea where he was going

“sorry! i’m a bit lost... could you help me?” taichi paired it with his puppy eyes and tragic pout, unaware he was a bunny face to face with a wolf in sheep’s clothing

but you recognized him, the famous actor from mankai’s autumn troupe

yet, you pretended to follow his plan, knowing how quickly mankai was regaining its popularity status in theatre

(hey, maybe you’d even get free stuff if you played your cards right)

then began your relationship with taichi, where he was head over skates for you and did everything in his power to make you stay

taichi rearranged his schedule for you, staying up countless hours into the next day just to text you and have every possible moment with you

taichi always reserved you front row seats for every mankai production, sometimes even bringing you backstages despite the warnings from his other members

(they never really liked you, especially not the way you had so much control over taichi)

“taichi... you look tired. are you okay?” omi asked one day, when taichi had been on his phone the entire meal and anxiously fidgeted for a reply

(you sometimes did that just to mess with him a little, by leaving his multiple messages on read) (he hated it)

“me? i’m doing the best i could be!” taichi exclaimed, sneaking a glance at his screen to still see it dark

when omi carefully nodded and turned around, taichi’s posture slouched and the insomnia he was developing just to talk began catching up to his performance

taichi did everything a perfect boyfriend did in plays: wrote you love letters (you never read them), created thoughtful playlists that flowed well (you never listened), even learning new fun talents just to impress you (you never paid attention)

it was never enough to make you see him as more than a key to the theatre industry

to you, taichi was nothing more than a loyal puppy on a leash

taichi didn’t realize how tight his collar was until he was confronted by his troupe members, all who were as serious as it got with them

“what’s up?” taichi offered, faking a grin and suppressing the yawn building in his throat. the bags under his eyes were dark, and his blue eyes were dull. he hadn’t slept in so long. he was low on money for buying too many things. he couldn’t remember the last time he finished a meal

omi exchanged looks with the others, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news because well, maybe he’d soften the blow a bit better

it must be bad if even juza and banri are not fighting, taichi mused, not really listening until he heard:

“—they’re cheating on you, taichi.”

taichi’s head snapped up, his body becoming rigid from the accusation. his sight landed on a digital image on banri’s phone screen, where you were clearly all over another person

(taichi remebered them, they were your lockscreen. he never questioned it)

(even if he was always jealous of how you hung out with every other friend much more than him, you own boyfriend!)

there was nothing to justify. banri explained how he and juza came upon them at the mall, and he was sorry

(it wasn’t banri’s fault, but he apologized because he was genuinely sorry for all taichi went through)

it’s not like he could say anything, the photo was clear as day! but taichi’s fists were tight by his side and he stood up defiantly

“that’s not true! maybe, that’s just their friend! or family member! i trust them, stop making baseless claims against them!” taichi knew he was making a scene, but it gave him a window to storm out of the front door and run down the sidewalk

“taichi!” he heard, but no one dared followed him. maybe he needed to face it by himself and open his eyes

they’d be back waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally realized he didn’t deserve to be in a toxic situation like this

(taichi did so much to become even better, just so you would like him more... it never worked)

taichi stopped at the park, panting deeply and leaning forward to catch his breath

this couldn’t be possible! he was the perfect boyfriend, right? he did everything for you... what wasn’t enough? when would he be enough?

but the proof was right there. taichi could see you with the same person in the image right in front of him

that’s when it hit. you knew taichi had acting practice right now, he wouldn’t know any better

all the pent–up anger within him exploded, his desperation masking a much more weak, unstable truth: fear of abandonment and the unrequited jealousy of the other person, no matter how much he hated to admit it

taichi was jealous. jealous of how you liked everyone else so much better than him, taichi wanted to be better, for you

but you were gonna leave him, toss him aside like your time together was nothing, like he was nothing

you never loved him, you liked the attention

taichi finally saw the signs, the red flags you were manipulative and knew he was easy enough to twist and break. he opened his eyes and you hadn’t even noticed him

but then, he tried to tell himself maybe he actually liked that, but it sounded hollow and fake even to him

taichi had to say no now

taichi was hurt, but he couldn’t show that to you anymore. you didn’t deserve the privilege having a say in his feelings anymore

walking by and pretending to bump into you, your face didn’t change as you saw him, simply raising an eyebrow in question

“just leave me for somebody else,” taichi humorlessly laughed, staring at the way you felt nothing for him

you stepped onto his heart and broke it, there was nothing else to say. even then, he wish he was the person you loved, even if it killed him

“enjoy yourself.” taichi finished, knowing these would be the last words he would ever say to you before returning back to the dorms

he didn’t look back, not anymore

197 notes · View notes

howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years ago

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 5: Animals

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 5. Set in a modern AU, follows up on Day 4 'Gift'. Alone for the day, Hiccup watches a dragon documentary as he thinks back to how he and his Bud first met and contemplates why he knows his way around his abuser.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 3 045

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Animal attack”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: As fun as this project as been, physical whump is what I enjoy writing the most. So there are two parts here that I particularly liked about writing this one-shot.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! On tagging, too!

Enjoy!

@amonthofwhump

Ao3

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

Out in the forest with nothing but trees and snow and as far as the eye can see, which isn't far at all, Hiccup is freezing.

He wishes he could've gotten a coat before he ran, or was already wearing one when he did, but getting one would've meant going back inside the cabin, where Viggo was, and he wouldn't have expected to see him again. And if he's seen the shovel Hiccup is using as a makeshift crutch, he'd know.

So suffering the cold it is. He'll just have to hurry it up and find the help that he needs.

If only he wasn't so frustratingly slow, but with the state of both of his feet, one broken and the other a fake, slow is his only speed available.

It makes him worry. Every few seconds he looks behind him, worried to suddenly find his abuser standing there and that is more stress than he needs right now. Getting out of this predicament alive is already difficult enough.

Every little sound makes his heart leap and his eyes search for the source, wide-eyed and useless. If only he had a little bit of moonlight to work with, at least then he could see a little. But there's a snowfall coming and that means the only thing in the sky are clouds.

The white carpet is thick enough that it hides secrets and Hiccup's left foot gets caught in a tree root he didn't see. His broken foot unable to steady him, he falls with a surprised cry and eats a faceful of snow. A big jolt of pain rushes through his nerves and he lets go of the shovel, his hands shooting to his injured limb.

"Oh, fuck!" He moans and groans, hoping the terrible pain will subside quickly. He can feel it radiate through his ankle now and he wants it gone. Not just for his comfort, but also because he needs to get going. He needs to put distance between himself and the cabin he came from.

It barely fades in the minute or two he lies on the ground and that's about as much as he can give his foot to recover. The temperatures are so low that he can't wait for much longer, so he's forced to get up. His hands, face, and ears are all numb and tingling from the cold, frost nipped, and his foot is pounding and not taking kindly to the slightest of movements. But he needs to get up, he can't stay here.

Grimacing, he takes the shovel again and somehow finds the strength to get back up to his feet. He's still groaning and the occasional swear leaves, but he makes it. Somehow, he's standing again and he breathes out deeply. His face is wet with tears, a result of the pain in his foot.

His prosthetic is no help at all in the snow, especially now with his good foot out of commission, and it's infuriating. He finally has it back with him for longer than an hour or two every day and it's still useless to him.

And to think that, before they left, he was so relieved to have it back with him. He used to believe that it would be the thing to carry him out of this situation in a way. That if he got it back, if his plan worked, he could've used it to walk away from Viggo and walk away proudly.

But he has it now and all he can do is struggle.

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

Surprisingly enough, while at the Grimborn house, Viggo isn't home often and neither is Ryker. Hiccup knows Viggo has a company that he's CEO of, but what Ryker is up to during the day, he has no idea.

But it matters little. One of the rules specifically for him is that he can't watch tv without permission, which he never gets, so that's what he does when they're away.

Sitting on the couch when he should be doing his endlessly long list of chores, he has a knee up as he searches between channels to find something interesting to watch. Eventually landing on a documentary about dragons, he can't help but watch it and wallow in the memory it brings him.

One would think this would be the perfect opportunity to get away. Both brothers are gone, what's stopping him from leaving? Even if the windows and doors are locked, why not just break the glass or pick one of those locks and get going?

Well, first of all, his prosthetic is missing.

They took it away from him before he first woke up in this house and they've been keeping it locked away in a safe behind a locked cabinet door. How those two expect Hiccup to do the work around the house and still do a good job with only one leg and a crutch is beyond him.

Though perhaps, that is the point. If he has to do it slowly, if he has to get it right, if he has to get it done to avoid being punished, then he's losing whole days just to his chores and that is part of what makes the list so endless. So endless and so tiring. It's another tactic to make him stay, can't escape if he's too tired to.

But Hiccup's already found the key, it was hidden inside of one of the many books in Viggo's study, where the safe also is. And he's cracked the code through patience and a good hearing. Unfortunately, he still can't just take it and leave.

This house is surrounded by unseen walls he can't break through. Those infernal invisible fences are a thing because there's an ankle band around his ankle, hidden by his pants.

It's not a monitoring device like the ones often given to criminals who are on house arrest, they won't be given a painful electric shock every time they try to leave the house. Hiccup's does and it's been confining him to the inside for as long as he's been upstairs. it's a shock collar, except it goes around his ankle. As someone who can go stir crazy easily, it is a maddening thing.

He wasn't always allowed upstairs, or rather, he wasn't always allowed on the ground floor and up like this. He used to stay in the basement, like you'd see on tv or hear from other stories like his. That's where he first woke up after he was taken. In a way, he's actually relieved he gets to see sunlight and the yard outside.

But on the first day that they could "trust him enough" to let him up, let him see natural light again for the first time in much too long, they also told him what the ankle band was for. He'll never forget that day.

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

"Let's call it a safety precaution." Viggo had told him, speaking in such a way as if it's completely normal to put a shock collar on a human being. It's already inhuman to put them on animals.

He's seen some on dragons before. When his mother and her team rescued them and brought them to her sanctuary, he'd sometimes see these collars around their necks and it sickened him everytime. To think that they put one on him...

"Would you care for a demonstration?" From the second that they'd met, Hiccup had Ryker pinned for a bully. Someone who would take enjoyment out of someone else's misery and that offer only backed his observation up.

"I'd prefer not to." Hiccup remembers being quiet that day, exhausted in every possible way after the time spent in darkness. He'd lost weight, too, not good for someone who was already as lean as he was.

"Ah, but that's no fun!" Ryker, however, insisted on it, grabbing Hiccup by his upper arm and dragging him towards the front door with no protest from his younger brother.

"W-wait, no-" Hiccup didn't have the strength to fight back, too weakened, and then the front door was opened and he'd been thrown outside for a test run.

The second he hit the front porch and the steps leading up to it, the ankle band activitated immediately with a few beeps. Terrible surges of electricity ran up his body from his right ankle, setting fire to his nerves. He doesn't remember much, just his body convulsing on the ground, muscles tensing uncontrollably, and the want to scream, but being unable to with his jaws clenched so tightly on one another. He can't remember breathing either.

Does it take minutes? Or has it been only seconds of him writhing on the ground, silently pleading for his suffering to stop? There mustn't be any neighbors nearby or they would have questions. But with the press of a button, the surges end and Hiccup is left sobbing and shaking.

"You couldn't end his suffering just a little sooner?" Viggo asked when he finally joined them outside and stuffed the little remote in his pocket, his tone not fitting his words as it sounded quite uncaring. If anything, he's annoyed he had to be the one to press the button. They both have it and it can make the shocks start and stop at will. Ryker will come to abuse that one whenever he feels like it.

"I just figured a practice run would it through his thick skull," Ryker replies, feeling quite satisfied with the display.

"He's only just arrived, Ryker, it'd be a shame to kill him already." They both looked down at him, watched Hiccup as he panted and lies motionless on the front porch. His body trembled in the aftermath and the tears silently rolled down his face.

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

He won't think about that line again until the trip to the mountains, but for the moment, he watches the documentary and pushes the memory of the ankle band to the deepest corners of his mind. Instead, he should pick apart the dragon facts that aren't quite as accurate as he'd like.

Now is not the time to think, now is the time for dragons.

And then a bit about the elusive Night Fury comes on and his mother's sanctuary for dragons is mentioned. This particular species of dragons is hard to find and that makes the sanctuary's specimen all the more important.

Hiccup knows that particular individual very well. He's the one he lost his leg to, the reason why he has a prosthetic that can be taken away like a toy is taken from a disobedient child. As if having a working leg isn't a basic right.

After his parents' divorce, his mother came to live in the sanctuary full-time. And since she had their son for the weekends, Stoick had him during the weeks for school, which meant Hiccup sometimes lived amongst the dragons as well.

It happened one day when he was 15-years-old, an injured juvenile Night Fury had been rescued and was brought to the sanctuary for treatment with every intention to let him go afterward. That is, until they saw the severity of his injured tailfin and realized he would never fly again. That was before a certain someone invented a prosthetic for him.

They didn't know his story, they still don't, not in its entirety. But upon waking up and seeing nothing except for humans, he lashed out. And the closest one standing nearest to him was Hiccup.

The leg was still there when they managed to sedate the dragon and call in a helicopter from overseas, having done everything they could to stop him from bleeding out. The sanctuary was on an island without a town or even a village, so the nearest hospital was the one on the mainland, in New New Berk. The next day, the leg was gone and so was his mother. She'd been sent away by his father, who was outraged that she let something like this happen under her watch.

In the weeks afterwards, Valka would completely lose custody of Hiccup in a court battle for him while he recovered. Nothing she said could persuade Stoick, or the court, to change their minds.

Hiccup never blamed his mother or the dragon for the leg he lost or for the terrible scarring on the lower right side of his back. Something Viggo had once looked at and promptly decided should be surgically removed in the far future.

He despises that decision more than he could ever even dislike Toothless for doing this to him. Toothless was scared, hurt, and acted out because of that. And with how little they know about Night Furies, they couldn't have known how fast or how slow his metabolism would take care of the sedatives. Every dragon reacts differently to them.

Once his stump healed, his physiotherapy was done, and he'd made his own prosthetic with Gobber's help, months had come and gone. When he was about 16 and a half, he demanded his father to be allowed back on the sanctuary and see that dragon.

Stoick had told him no, of course, but when had that ever stopped him before?

Toothless had recognized him instantly and what Hiccup saw was guilt and a need to shrink away. In the months there, he'd come to realize these humans weren't out to hurt him and he'd nearly killed the most defenseless out of all of them, a juvenile like him.

Imagine his surprise when that human, that would turn out to be his best and closest friend, came at him not with anger, but with a fish as a good gesture. Their relationship only went uphill from there.

He remembers screaming, remembers the ferocious beast tearing away at him, remembers, the blood and the pain of a leg that was quite literally hanging by a thread at that point. And then there were the nights when he would wake up crying and his father would come in to console him. It's part of why he wanted to see the dragon, to be rid of those nightmares as he refused to fear what he's loved all his life.

But those times, he won't look back at them in horror as he probably will look back on his time with Viggo.

His time downstairs in particular.

Before he realizes it, Hiccup sits on the leather couch, knee up to his chest, and feeling like he wants to cry. He just wants to see his Bud again. Toothless doesn't like humans very much, but he loves him as much as he does him.

After bonding with his Bud, and a lecture from his father that went in one ear and out the other, Hiccup continued to work with the dragons his mother and her personnel looked after. He garnered skills with them that no one but his own mother had developed before him and it seemed like his goal in life was to work with them.

His thoughts take a sudden turn.

Maybe that's why Hiccup is so good at quelling Viggo, he's used to dealing with animals.

Except when a Monstrous Nightmare is angry, it could be suffering from a toothache that keeps him from eating, starving him for days until the cause is found. When a Gronckle comes to a human post to wreck stuff, it might be because she ate something she shouldn't have and feels worryingly sick, this her way of calling for help. When a Nadder is acting up, it might be a spine that sits wrong and hurts her.

Dragons can be angry and have a million reasons why they are and that means there are a million ways to help them out. It's their job to figure out what is wrong and take care of the problem. Hiccup is exceptional at this.

But Viggo, for all his smarts and his complexes, wants only one thing from Hiccup and that makes him easier to quell. That is, if Hiccup can beat him to the punch. Literally.

Funny and ironic, how they would put a shock collar of some kind on Hiccup when the beast out of the two of them isn't him.

But he shouldn't have to and, unlike with his dragons, he doesn't want to either. That makes him angry.

But what can he do? The police haven't come for him yet and neither have his friends or family, if they even know where to look. Hiccup doesn't even know what address this house is situated at and it's not like he can go outside and intercept the mail before Viggo or Ryker can. And they're so quick to dispose of the envelopes, too. Ryker even stares him in the eye with a glint of satisfaction as he burns the envelopes above the sink each time he gets their hands on them.

And the only people who really know about Viggo are Astrid and Heather. Would they think to look into him?

Hiccup looks towards the direction of the study, where not only his prosthetic is kept under lock and key for "safekeeping", but also where Viggo's computer is.

It's the 13th of December, the day after the party. He can't go outside, there is no phone to use, no neighbors to rely on, no housekeeper to scheme with, but those party guests from the night before have given him an idea. It's the first one he's had since being allowed up the stairs.

He's ashamed of how long it took him, but his mind was simply... preoccupied with other things.

If he can just get onto that computer then he has something to work with. A way to get rid of this shock collar that he doesn't dare tamper with like he would with other objects would be great. What would be even greater is something that he can use against Viggo, maybe something having to do with those party guests.

If he can just get onto that computer, he might find something that will be his ticket out of here, and he won't have to worry about being treated like a child anymore, like a toy, like an object, like an animal.

The one who will be treated like an animal then will, hopefully, be Viggo.

22 notes · View notes

parkeraul · 5 years ago

Note

Drunk bestfriend!Tom confessing his feelings for you while you take care of him

→ can you feel me? | t.h.

author’s note — hey ya, thanks for requesting. i hope you like it! requests are open again for tom, peter & shawn, btw. hit the askbox.

pairing: tom holland x reader | bestfriend!au

masterlist┊add yourself to my taglists┊give me feedbacks.

warnings — fluff, kind of angsty, swearing, brief mentions of sex and alcohol consumption.

“Turn around,” Tom says, walking slowly as he tries hard not to miss a step. “I don’t want you to see my intimacy.”

Y/N stands up from the bed as soon as she sees her best friend walking drowsily, his right hand holding the edges of the towel wrapped around his waist together. His left hand palms the wall, as if they could only show him what way he should follow to reach the wardrobe. The brown eyes are glued on the wooden floor, slow steps coming closer as Y/N prompts herself to stretch both arms and offer him her hands to guide his trail.

“Nah, no,” Tom refuses, shifting his hands up in the air and away from her touch, which leads to his towel to loosen and start to fall. “I can handle myself,” A hiccup interrupts him briefly, frame tumbling backwards as he loses balance for a moment. “I’m fine, look!”

As soon as he stops talking, he opens his arms and starts to lift his right foot to fold his knee and make a 4 shape with his legs — obviously, tilting from side to side due to the dizziness.

“Tom, what the hell?!” Y/N hisses, long strides leading her to grab both his arms and bring him back to Earth. “Quit fucking around, this ain’t funny.”

Laughing, Tom falls forwards and hugs his best friend clumsily, squishing her body with his powerless limbs. He felt a numbness running through his nerves, but his muscular arms made Y/N feel like he was using all of his might to hold her against his cold body. It’s all too good until she feels him starting to get heavier, pressing down on her.

“Help me change, kitten?” He mumbles weakly, arms still tangled around her shoulders as they tiptoe left and right to avoid crashing down.

“Kitten?” Y/N asks, frowning.

“Kitten.”

“Don’t call me kitten.”

“Why not?” The british boy asks back, burying his face on the crook of her neck, sniffing her scent and closing his sleepy eyes. “You liked it when Raul called you that in high school.”

“Will you let that go?” She sighs, smiling and Tom smiles along because he can notice it, even though he doesn’t have a view. Her words slipped out way too softly for her not to be grinning, he knows it like the palm of his hand. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” While Y/N helps him step away, he lets out a breathy laugh and chews on his bottom lip no longer after, hands trailing their way back to his dark–red towel threatening to fall. “I remember you shaking whenever he came across, you liked it.”

Y/N guides Tom to flop onto the mattress, where he sits down with a lazy smile sprawled across his flushy face. There are droplets scrolling down his chest, his short hair a little bit damp and his skin getting goosebumps as the cold temperature envolves the bedroom. She walks to his drawers, choosing one of his various Calvins for him to wear as he watches her attentive like a child.

“I so didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I fuckin’ did not!”

“Y/N, come on,” He speaks loudly, accent dripping down strongly everytime he opened his mouth. “You literally sent me a message that day talking about–”

Not looking back, she tosses a black pair of Calvins right onto his face, looking for his pajamas on another drawer and hoping she had shut him up with the fabric.

“Talking about how he moaned weirdly and couldn’t stop talking during sex.”

“Where the fuck are your pajamas?” She sighs, slamming the drawers shut as she gets no success.

“Do you still hate when people talk during sex?” Tom unfolds his underwear, only looking at it as he has no willing on putting them on.

“It’s not that I hate it, it depends,” Y/N answers nonchalantly, finding on his bottom drawer a pair of sweats that she throws it back to him. “Raul was annoying, I hated it with him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He was a son of a bitch, you knew that,” She emphasizes, closing the drawer as she opens the biggest door of his wardrobe to search for a cozy blanket to cover him with. “You knew that before I did, actually.”

Tom’s head starts to spin, vision getting blurry as he tries to watch Y/N’s actions across his bedroom. It’s hard to focus, but the fact that she’s staying here to help him get ready to sleep and taking care of him seems to connect more with the moment — even if it means he can only feel clearly, sight losing itself more and more. He doesn’t remember when he started to lose control, or how many tequila shots he had in between the countless bottles of beer he took. The taste remains still on his memory, as fresh as the emotions blossoming across his thumping chest. Something’s wrong.

“You gonna throw up, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

This time, even though it’s unfocused, Tom’s eyes are staring at a random spot. More precisely, the spot where her body was before she shifted to the side with a warm blanket on her hands and a worried look at his direction.

“No, I’m not,” He says with a smile. “Just thinkin’ how Raul really was a son of a bitch.”

“Still?”

“He was a lucky son of a bitch, though,” Tom explains, trying to manage his underwear among his fingers to dress it up. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

When Tom’s body inches to the left dangerously, Y/N runs to him — the blanket long forgotten at the end of the bed as she knees down on the floor, taking the underwear onto her own hands.

“Fuck, Tom.”

She tries to pass the waistband up his feet correctly and Tom is still taken aback by her words. What the heck?

Another hiccup comes suddenly, a warm sensation soothing the left side of his chest and quickly travelling down to the center of it. Soon, it’s burning his entire upper half with a feeling he can’t describe; he doesn’t want to describe. Tom’s been doing great by avoiding it everytime if came up, but further than that, it flew down to his lower stomach and found home on it, building a light coil unconsciously.

“Let me do this.” He says flatly, trying to recover his senses and grabbing the waistband himself, pushing it up hurriedly.

“You can’t even stand up, shithead,” Y/N fights back, slapping his hands away but Tom is quicker to drag his body farther onto the bed. “Will you stop?”

His breath gets caught, the air stuck on his lungs and fighting to come out as he insists on holding it back — because there is Y/N, taking his wrists and pinning them down on each side of his body and down on the mattress. Tom can tell she’s growing impatient when she bites her lower lip twice before keeping it in between her teeth, the apple of her cheeks highlighting everytime she chews her lip strongly. And damn, she looks different. Good different, great different, he thinks. She’s dead mad at him for being bratty, but there’s something about the way Y/N looks down in there, insisting on taking care of his drunken body that gets his heart beating unpatterned. Maybe it’s the way her brows frown so sweetly, concentrated; or the way she looks up at him disapprovingly, but with an unspoken phrase of comfort — “you’re an idiot, but what wouldn’t I do for you?”. Perhaps, it’s about the way her careful hands are messily dressing him, the elastic waistband tightening his shins, going past his knees, thighs, upper thighs–

“I’ll do the rest,” He comes back to reality, blinking twice and breaking out from the fairytale. “Here, come on up.”

“No, it’s almost done,” It’s Y/N’s turn to have wrists gotten by Tom, who’s pulling her body up by them. “You can barely speak properly.”

“I’m betta, love,” Tom gives her a warm smile, breathing deeply to keep his body in place — he fears his drunken state can’t work in his favour, but he fears his heart the most, that it might give him the strength to reach for her. He can’t. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“You’re stubborn!”

“Shit, Tom, let me finish–”

“Y/N stop!” Tom’s voice falls an octave, coming out almost clear for the first time in the past 2 hours. “I’ll fucking do this, I don’t want you to see my dick.”

She stands up and her jaw falls, a silent laugh leaving her mouth with a sharp air exhaling through it. Her hands flies to her waist, cupping the flesh covered by her favourite party dress as she watches Tom struggling to wear his briefs without taking the towel off.

“I can’t see shit.”

A few seconds of silence take over the room, but it feels like an eternity in their heads. Tom stares deep into Y/N’s eyes and she reciprocates, eyebrows lifted while she tucks her hair behind her ears.

“Ouch?!” He whines, as if she could see through the towel to pull up a joke like that. His mind wasn’t working at all.

Y/N rolls her eyes and turns her back to him, walking to the end of the bed to grab the blanket and unfold the enormous flurry piece. She rambles, pretending to work more on the big white fabric as she gives him the time to get dressed. Tom stands up on his feet, shoving the underwear up and letting the waistband rest a little bit lower than it should be. The v–lines are prominent on his abs, leading to where his lower stomach starts to show up, where the coil is intensifying against his will.

The scent of her perfume and shampoo fills up the room, warning Tom that he won’t get rid of her even if she went away back home. Her delicate silhouette was standing there, back turned to him after a long night looking after his drunken stunts. They loved to party together, of course, but somehow her soberness hit her sooner while Tom was out there, trying drink after drink.

She wanted to ask what was going on, what happened that made him look at her the entire party. Innumerable times Tom had been caught glancing at her, even far away on the kitchen while she was out there on the beer pong with their friends. And if she was out of sight, she was present in his mind, making him seek for her even though he feared what he would probably bump into. Yet, it felt more and more like a line had twirled a knot around his heart and the end of it was in hers — tied up like a pretty bow tie, because she would do a knot better than his. She always did everything better, Tom thinks.

Fancier, stronger, prettier, faster... Perfectly. She’s unique, nobody compares to her.

When Y/N turns around, Tom has his fist shoved against his other palm, crackling his slender fingers as his biceps flex to the action. She offers him a tired smile, but genuine, from the heart. Tom knows what it means, denying her from the view of his defined body as he climbs onto bed like a baby. She doesn’t let the sight of his ass pass by, though — and if it was a good time, she’d tease him about how juicy his cheeks look in those Calvins, which would make him twitch harder inside his boxers but laugh in response, buying the play so she would never know how bad he wishes it could be true.

When he’s finally resting, back pressed against the sheets and arm under his head, Y/N covers him with the heavy blanket. His stubborn ass left the sweats she threw at him long forgotten in the middle of the bed, but she wouldn’t fight it. Not today. If he gets a cold, she might chastise him tomorrow, she thinks.

“Raul was a good kisser,” Y/N whispers, bringing the cover up to Tom’s chest. “This is how I kept him quiet.”

“Fair enough,” Tom whispers back, grinning tiredly. “Smart of you.��

Y/N winks at her best friend, smiling along with the boy she learned to deal with everytime he decided to play harder with the drinks. Tom turns to the side, looking up at her as he opens more space on his bed.

What?

Y/N kinda freezes inside, wondering where the hell was this going to. It was a rule that they would never share a bed, it was set ever since they had to sleep over Harrison’s house one day and things got awkward. Their legs would touch here and there sometimes and it felt like torture. At the same time it was wrong, Tom wanted it to feel right so bad. He felt like it was right, but he didn’t know about Y/N, so it didn’t go further than that. They knew it had brought an uncomfortable atmosphere when they woke up the next day quieter than ever, after a long night of accidental touches. And they weren’t mischievous, or meant to tease, or whatever. The fact that they both had deeper thoughts about a simple graze made it all become heavier and bigger than it should be — and by deeper thoughts, they mean: what if ‘keep going’ is the right thing to do?

“You have a pretty lower lip, Y/N,” Tom says with a tone very child–like, eyes blinking slowly.

“Just the lower one?” She laughs, already familiar with the dork–drunken–Tom Holland.

“No, the other one looks good too,” Dangerous confession. Fuck. “But lower lips are better to suck onto.”

She tilts her head like a puppy, trying to understand where he was going, what was his point after all. Y/N gulps, lungs working a lot harder to keep the composure.

“Raul was a lucky bastard,” Mumbling lowly, Tom eyes Y/N through his lashes. “I can imagine why he was always stuck with his mouth on yours.”

“Can you?”

“I always had that in mind.”

“Raul and I kissing?”

Tom giggles impulsively, nervously, as if he just heard the funniest joke of his entire existence. He only stops when the coil on his lower stomach starts to boil.

“Having my mouth stuck on yours.”

Y/N finally takes her hands off the blanket, rubbing her palm against Tom’s head like he’s a puppy. She smiles at his smirk, heart beating so angrily she feared it was audible to him.

“Good night, Tom.”

“Hey,” Tom calls, deciding to offer her a better thing. “You can have Sam’s bed, he’s not coming home.”

Y/N nods, curling the corner of her mouth up before pressing her lips together, fingers of both hands tangled in between each other.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you!” He says. “I love you.”

Turning off the lights, Y/N goes to the door and answers him genuinely.

“I love you too.”

As she leaves, closing the door behind her, Tom shifts in bed with that fucking dull ache all spread over his lower stomach, waves of excitement throbbing up and down unstoppably. With his right hand running down his muscles to the black boxers, he knew it would be another night with Y/N’s name on his mouth; the image of her intoxicating his imagination and the thought of what her whimpers would sound like if he had invited her to occupy the empty side of his bed; if she would’ve had accepted it to finally put to a proof if their touches were going to feel perfectly wrong, or deadly right.

Taglist: @outlandishnerd – @jillanaholland – @space-holland – @snowflakeparker – @tomhollandseverything

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #bestfriend!tom #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland masterlist #mine #ficsofmine

692 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

don’t call me angel

Note: a parting gift for the new year! I hope you all enjoy because snarky best friends Seokjin/MC is my new favorite trope 🥺

↳ Summary: Life as an assassin was never what it was supposed to be, filled with bloody knuckles and bruised skin, sleepless nights and empty tears spilled. Life was hell, but it looked like just a fracture of heaven when Seokjin was with you. Until he’s become distant, tense when you speak to others, different, but just enough for you to subtly notice.

↳ Genre: Assassin!AU, angst, fluff, smut, fwb(?)

↳ Word Count: 14k

↳ Pairing: Seokjin/Reader, Jimin/Reader

↳ Tags: MC and Seokjin act like an old married couple, so much banter, jealous!Seokjin, dirty talk, begging, MC cries during sex, breathplay, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, sex toys, bondage, possession kink, spanking, did I mention begging? Begging kink? Penetrative sex, MC doesn’t like to sub but Seokjin turns her into a little bitch, angry sex, HEAVY degradation, edging, cumplay

Namjoon | Seokjin | Jungkook

The seat was cold, the good news was your ass had become numb at least an hour ago, regardless, the metal outdoor chair that had been seated in front of the cafe that was well past closing time was anything but comfortable. Your knuckles were nearly blue and you had kept your teeth from chattering. How the guards didn’t bother to ID check you at this hour was honestly god sent. One lonely girl, three in the morning, a silenced beretta strapped to your stomach that was concealed by the hoodie you wore.

You thought at least the weeb kitsune masks you had begged Seokjin to buy would’ve raised some suspicious if not their interest in harassing a young girl late at night. But alas, it was early morning, freezing and you could tell even with an AR-15 in hand they all would much rather be in bed asleep. Surely they would’ve seen your lip twitch in a scoff had it not been for the black medical mask: Sloppy.

No wonder this was like stealing candy from a baby when your target hired shitty club level security. Glancing back down at your phone your eyes flickered up once more to the figure across the narrow street, also seated on a bench, Seokjin never did like the cold either.

You couldn’t even finish typing before fumbling with your phone at the familiar sound of the silenced shot sound, pulling the pistol from its holster you had quickly rolled from your chair to kneel before firing two shots into the men who had hardly any time to witness their coworkers splattered like pancakes on a sunday morning onto the ground.

“Can you fucking wait five seconds!?” You snapped standing up as you pushed the safety back on your firearm, “You’re lucky we’re as well trained as we are.”

Seokjin who had been strolling across the road suddenly flung his arms up in the air, his face shielded by the- in his opinion- ridiculous kitsune mask and medical mask both. But you knew his expressions well enough by now to practically see the snarky, raised brow and incredulous look, “You were the one who wanted to take governors avenue! Seokjin it will be faster.”

Your lips curled in anger as you squinted at him from your skewed, darkened vision of your mask, this little shit was mocking you! “It was! Who the hell wants to fucking scale a cliff at three in the morning!? Not me!” You opened your mouth only to scowl as you twisted around to face the direction you had been slowly commuting.

Technically the more discreet route would’ve been cliffside but that was also under heavy regulation and Yoongi didn’t have enough clarence, or strings to pull to get you an entry card. Therefore scaling would’ve been your only option, but jesus fuck! Three in the morning, nearly negative ten degrees. It would the slowest pace, but safest.

But for fucks sake you killed people for a living who wanted to freeze their ass off cliffside when you had a direct path. It was the most risky and crawling with security but goddamn was it less cold between the buildings and a whole lot closer to your destination, so honestly? The choice was obvious to make, Seokjin just wanted to complain and gripe about not getting his way, to which you’d ignore or tell him to suck it up, like now.

“You know what? Whatever, the longer we stay here the more likely trucks will be on rotation, come on put the bodies in that alley way, snow will cover up the rest of the blood.” You were already dragging the meathead of the group into the narrow alley as Seokjin groaned, kicking at the fresh pile of snow before- most likely rolling his eyes and doing as told.

“Wouldn’t have to put a body in an alleyway if you did what we were supposed too.” Seokjin grumbled under his breath as he slumped the last body down next to it’s new grave for the next...hour at most? Your brain was constantly ticking in the future, that would be enough time...If everything went too plan.

“Oh shut up where’s the fun in that.” You slapped his back earning a grunt from him as you let out a breathy laugh, appearing out of the alley way as you made your way back up the street.

This villa was technically under curfew yet the guards on rotation really just didn’t seem to give a shit, most likely out of not getting paid enough and less loyalty to their boss then to their wives, it was the cars Yoongi said you’d have to watch out for. They were the higher rank and the ones that could track you down if things went from bad to worse.

The good news was that was the last hurdle of this night...well on the outside of the mansion, The lights were all on and you could hear the music blaring even from here, they’d surely be up all night in celebration, Wonho and his cronies at least. Everyone else...well they might get the hint the party was over when you took your leave.

Seokjin and you had parted ways as he made his way to the watch tower that overlooked your room, or well the vacant one you’d be scaling too. The mansion was a little more tricky, guards were suspicious at every rattle and noise they heard and the time slot for you to scale up five floors was going to be crunched.

“Any day now.” You sighed, leaning back against the brick wall, branches uncomfortably sticking and poking every end of your body as you did your best to not breath as any time you did the bushes would rattle, a thin layer of snow was nearly coating your whole body and you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore, “Seriously for fucks sake, what are you doing? Taking a piss off the tower? It’s fucking cold and the little paranoid freak won’t stop staring at my bush everytime I try to move.”

“Staring at your bush?” Seokjin’s voice crackled from your intercom as he tutted, sounding thoroughly unamused and you could almost see his snide lip curl, “You need to go back to languages class.” You only rolled your eyes as he continued, “I just set up camp and got rid of the bodies, you’re underneath your window right?”

You managed to get up against the building and set yourself down but two guards just wouldn’t leave the perimeter despite rotation, glancing up you could see the ledge of your room’s window even from the ground but there was no way you’d make it fifteen feet without a bullet in the ass, or potentially head, “Yeah but those two won’t leave, can you get them out of here?”

“No there’s two over on the east side that could see from the position they’re in, let me wire Yoongi and see if he can help. Just sit tight for now.” You let out a silent groan as you pressed back against the wall.

You couldn’t say you weren’t getting paid enough for this, because in most casing you definitely were but honestly? No amount of money was worth sitting in ass freezing snow waiting for god only knew how long just to get inside. You closed your eyes trying to imagine the inside of the mansion, Wonho was rich, he’d have heating, it would be warm, maybe you could even get a drink if you’re lucky.

You nearly jumped out of your seat at the sound of the two guards who had been on standby suddenly rushing over to the east as if something urgent had happened. Fuck you could only hope Kim hadn’t blown his cover, he was a careful guy, there was no way it was him. Hopefully, he should be in the building by now.

“Yoongi scrambled their gates lock system, you have five minutes before west guards make their way up.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you stood up, wasting no time to utilize the window seals for your climb. Had you not been awake for over seventeen hours this would’ve felt like a piece of cake.

Your arms were still strained however as you paused, groaning as you muttered, “Namjoon better have unlocked that fucking window.” Kim was supposed to prep your room before making his way down to scope out the main floor, he was never sloppy, but being tired, sleep deprived and the first phase of hunger setting in was really making you question your life choices. Or what little choice you were given at least.

“You know if you keep bitching they’re gonna see you.” Seokjin replied, suddenly snorting as he continued, “Actually, bet they will. I’ll finally be free from your constant whining and stubbornness.”

Clacking your tongue you pushed open the window before climbing through, sighing you collapsed on the ground, temporarily closing your eyes as you replied, “Maybe, but your life would be a hell of a lot less fun without me.”

“Well it will be if you don’t get your ass up, come on Y/n we don’t have all day. Some of us don’t get the luxury of going inside.” Seokjin complained as you rolled your eyes, standing up as you shut the window. Turning around you made your way for the closet, pushing the hood down and peeling off your facial wear.

“Boohoo, suck it up. This shouldn’t take longer than a half hour at most.” Stripping down you let your skin bask in the heated warmth of the indoors. Your blood was pulsing and throbbing at the drastic temperature change as you began to dig through the closet. You could only hope Wonho had already drank enough to not be entirely straight on his feet or else this was going to be a lot longer than you wanted.

This however, was a celebration after all, Wonho just successfully took down one of Rio’s biggest militias and long time overseas rival. Everyone would be drunk tonight, and if not they were well on their way.

“Wow you couldn’t even dress for the occasion,” Seokjin whistled low while tutting, as if in disappointment as you stood up straight, glaring over your shoulder at the window where he undoubtedly had the scope of his sniper aimed on your ass, only covered in a plain pair of black thermal underwear in hopes of keeping you warm. It did not.

“I’m here to lynch him Jin, not sleep with him.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled the dress from the closet, pulling it over your shoulders before tugging down the tight material that strapped against your body, your cleavage decently on display, hopefully enough to keep Wonho’s interest compared to all the other, more than likely attractive women to keep his attention. Kicking off your boots and peeling off your socks you could hear Seokjin scoff through the static, “Could’ve fooled me.”

You decided to ignore his comment as you slipped on the heels, you were already fairly tall as it was and if he couldn’t see you before he definitely would now given you were at the same height as a fully grown man, “Alright, I'm on my way to location, keep me updated if rotation for guards changes.”

“On it.”

Shoving your clothes into the bottom of the closet you firmly shut the door before making your way out of the room, the hallway was packed just as you assumed yet no one questioned you stepping out of the room, all to absorbed in their conversations, or the person they were lip locked with. Shuffling through the hallway you made your way to the elevator, the woman inside was almost completely wasted, knocking you to the back where the greasy older gentlemen stood with a slight drunken leer in his eyes while licking his lips at the sight of your breasts.

Grimacing you folded your arms as you ignored the packed, alcohol reeked scene, finally breathing relief at the ding of the door before exiting the elevator.

The main floor wasn’t much better, it had been completely trashed and bottles had littered the floor. Honestly it rivaled that of a much more expensive, and dangerous version of a frat house. Your eyes however weren’t trained on the floor anymore as you scoped the crowd, your eyes landing on the three piece clad blue suit and slicked, styled hair as you swooped in, strutting towards the figure before standing beside him with a hum, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“We were briefed on this in the same room Y/n.” Namjoon glanced at you as he rolled his eyes, ever the pragmatic, glancing at your figure before giving a small nod, “Good to see you didn’t bust your ass trying to get in.”

Your lips twisted into a scowl, you were never known for your scaling skills and maybe that was why you snubbed Seokjin’s idea of using cliffside to get in, regardless, you made it and that was what counted, crossing your arms you said, “And if I had, do you think you could get Wonho to swing the other way?”

To that he rolled his eyes once more. Namjoon and you...had a long history one that was naturally shared with Seokjin of course. He was the leader of your group...well...as much as he could be. Operations were rarely held as a full team but usually he’d always lead them when they were. You and Seokjin were the first two to be assembled onto the team, or the first to meet Namjoon at least. You had met him before when you were younger though, briefly.

Not only was Namjoon a good assault expert and spy but he was like the glue that kept everyone from killing each other. He had your respect and that was the highest honor someone could ever receive from you. He was an excellent leader.

“You are the most stale person I’ve ever met,” You muttered under your breath, his lack of banter however was always something that made you grumble, he was dry, pragmatic and could always be relied on to get the job done. But where was the jazz? Where was the spice? The drama? Talk about boring, “Is the target on sight?”

“Back corner of the room on the right. We have company.” Namjoon tutted, his tone of voice suddenly on edge making you stand up straighter, glancing around in search for what he meant. What you found however was the familiar sight of burgundy hair and a charismatic smile that could rival the sun.

Squinting your eyes slightly you felt confusion suddenly cloud your thoughts at the unexpected appearance of your interrogation expert, “What is Hoseok doing here?” You glanced at Namjoon curiously but his expression told you he was just as in the dark, and his brooding eyes let you know he was less than happy about it.

“Who knows,” His eyes flickered to the ground, his icy glare enough to freeze someone had he looked up, “Park loves keeping us in the dark.”

It was the truth, in all fairness. Park almost always used the whole team for an operation yet never told one another, just leaving you all in the dark as the puzzle pieces fell together. You supposed you didn’t have a reason to know why Hoseok was here, but a heads up would’ve been nice had things gone sideways.

This was how Park ran though, it’s what made his business, his elite group from potentially selling him out and turning on him. You can’t leak an operation if you don’t know who else is apart of it. He always had more than one motive for something like this. You knew he did, you just couldn’t figure out what.

You shrugged, glancing at Hoseok’s figure one last time before letting your eyes slowly flicker to Wonho, he was still cramped up in the corner with his friends and right hand man, all laughing and looking about as drunk as you had hoped. Good.

“Where’s your little protege at?” Your lips curled slightly as you quipped.

Namjoon couldn’t stop the snort from escaping his lips as he curved an eyebrow at you, flecks of amusement in his eyes, “Sitting at home probably beating the shit out of a punching bag. Made him sit this one out, it’s too important and I don’t think he has enough experience for something like infiltration yet.”

Humming you glanced back at your target, “Not a lot of faith there huh. He’s never gonna gain experience if you don’t let him.” It was ironic for you to be the one saying that given he hated your guts for an unbeknownst reason but you did feel for the kid. He had potential, he just needed to hone it, and maybe mature a little.

“Maybe when he doesn’t threaten to choke slam you anytime you’re in the same room.” Namjoon replied as you threw up your hands, you couldn’t help it. Well maybe you could, you were well known for instigating when someone was in a bad mood but still, you had to keep yourself on your toes somehow.

“Alright fair enough,” You surrendered with a sigh, “Let’s just get this over with, stand here any longer and Seokjin is gonna be up my ass about how he’s cold. You should head for rendezvous, I got things from here.”

Namjoon only nodded as he replied, “Copy. Good luck L/n.” With that Namjoon took a step back before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone as you subtly kept your eyes on your target as you began your trek over to his location. Lingering around the bar as you shifted your expression into a far more pleasant one. It took a few more minutes but you had caught Wonho’s eyes just as you had hoped, tossing him a shy smile as you glanced away.

It was almost too easy getting his attention, you had played this little game for only a few more minutes before you watched him abruptly dismiss his friends as he walked your way. You had to drop your gaze back to the floor the glass you held still completely full despite acting as if you were casually drinking.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met, the names Lee Wonho.” Wonho had smoothly introduced himself as he loosened his tie, his eyes not leaving your figure as you bashfully glanced up, resisting the urge to let your lips cave into a full blown smirk.

Rather you kept the seemingly innocent look on your eyes as you smiled sheepishly, “O-oh...I...I didn’t realize you were the owner of the estate, Choi Dahyun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was like a fish and reel and Wonho was practically racing towards the dry land as he wolfishly grabbed your hand you had extended, pressing it to his lips as he smirked, “The pleasure is all mine.” You had to resist the urge to cringe as you smiled once more. Easing into conversation with possibly one of the biggest underworld leaders at the moment.

It took months to set this up, to get to this moment in time. Finally, you’d be able to rest once this was over. It was almost amusing to think about, Wonho was a man in his mid forties, a whole empire behind him that had been passed down to him by his grandfather, he dealt in mafia affairs, one of the biggest narcotic dealers on the blackmarket and his stock of stolen military weaponry was uncanny. And yet, he was about to meet his demise by a pretty face and a set of tits. The irony was something you’d revel in for days and something that would look shiny on your resume.

It was almost too easy getting Wonho up to your room, you had even kept your eyes peeled, feeling as if this was too easy. Did he know? You could feel the small sliver of paranoia in the back of your head. Did Wonho know who you were? Was this apart of his plan? You couldn’t help but wonder. At this point though, did you have a choice? It was now or never.

You nearly grimaced at the way Wonho’s lips practically sucked against yours, his teeth messily gnashing as you pulled him into the room. The door shutting behind him as he whirled you around pressing you into the wall.

What you didn’t expect as your airflow to suddenly be cut off with a gag, Wonho only pulled away enough to look at you, smug and sneering as he hummed, “Nice try but I know Park’s bitches when I see them.” You gave an ice cold smile as you winced at the squeeze of his hand on your neck, “Why did he send you huh? Were you looking for the storage of narcotics? The data we hacked from Jang? Or did you just wanna get your little panties wet with the best?”

You let out a squeezed scoff, “You think you’re some hot shit don’t you? Well let me tell you, trying to be mr badass and take me on by yourself was the worst thing your dick driven ego has done yet.”

“Uh Y/n we have a problem.” You could hear Seokjin on your intercom, “I’m seeing a big head count on the eastern end of the perimeter, I think the bodies from earlier might have been discovered, are you almost done with Wonho?”

You could hardly focus on his voice though when you were thrown across the room, wheezing as you were knocked against the dress, falling to the floor with a thud as your body ached in pain, “You underestimate me little girl. You think I’m the leader of the most powerful group on the planet? I’ve already crushed Yun’s little militia, next I’ll sweep Jang out from under his feet and when I’m done with him? I’ll fucking string Park on his ass for his little boy to watch. I could be god-”

You jolted at the bullet pierced through his head, blood splattering the ground and leaking from the now grotesque state of what was once left of the man-god Wonho, or so he proclaimed himself to be. Sitting still for a total of ten seconds before you finally spoke, “Thanks- but I really wanted that on my resume…”

“Can you be grateful for once in your life? Get dressed and fucking light the place up we need to go now. There’s a helio on sight and I think Wonho was storing a good portion of his army in the warehouse.”

Standing up you made quick work of your dress and heels before opening the closet and dressing in your outfit once more, your lips curled into a smile at the sight of the small bottle of gasoline Namjoon had left as a parting gift. Perfect.

Pulling the hoodie up you popped the lid off the bottle before splashing gasoline throughout the room, opening up the window you poured the rest down the wall, your nose wrinkling at the pheromone smell before quickly throwing the bottle over your shoulder and scaling the wall. You could hear yelling and gunshots in the distant causing your adrenaline to spike as you swore under your breath.

Pulling the lighter from your pocket you lit up the gasoline, the fiery path licking at its substance as it spread up the wall and into the room. Quickly you glanced each direction before hurrying back to the watch tower. What was the gunfire from? And furthermore you couldn’t hear the helio.

“I’m headed for rendezvous, you good?” You had quickly pushed yourself up against the wall. Holding your breath as the two guards hurried past towards the west side, what happened?

“Already halfway there, you better hurry up before I decide to leave you.” Seokjin tutted as you scoffed, was that a challenge? He knew you could never say no to that.

Getting to the plane was already difficult as it was, the place was crawling with guards and security and by the time your room had exploded the whole place was being evacuated. It was an absolute mess. But the large crowd of panicked civilians gave you a big out to escape through the crowd on the bright side.

You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when you saw the plane, Seokjin leaned up against the set of stairs in place scrolling on his phone, “Did you hear about Hyuna trying to get into Jimin’s pants last night?”

Peeling both masks off as your hoodie knocked down you looked at him incredulously as you both stepped up into the plane, nodding at the guard who shut the door as you huffed, “We literally just finished killing one of Korea’s biggest crime lords and you’re fucking concerned about who Hyuna is sleeping with?”

“It’s a valid concern!” Seokjin replied indignantly, pushing his own hoodie off before throwing his masks onto the other couch, collapsing on the couch you both stood in front of as he groaned, “Should be for you too since Jimin is the one trying to get in your panties.”

You groaned at his words, sluggishly flopping down next to him. Seokjin had been incessant on bringing up the younger college boys crush on you the past three weeks and just as every other time you still didn’t understand what he was getting at. Your body involuntarily curling against his own as Seokjin pulled you close. His chin resting on your head as you dug your nose against his neck, “Shut up.”

Seokin only snorted, “You know I’m right.” You could only let out a yawn, ignoring his probing. The kind he did when something bugged him but he never wanted to outright say it. It had been like this since you had the unfortunate luck to garnering Jimin’s undying attention. You had never pried though as to why it bugged him. At least not until he got on your nerves.

Regardless, you were glad the day was finished. Wonho had finally been lynched and you would get the well deserved rest you had earned.

“Shoot her.”

Your heart was racing and it hurt to blink. When did things come to this? No… you always knew this would be the outcome. Everyday of your miserable existence was spent in preparation for this, all the blood that stained your hands, all the screams that would forever haunt your memories, you knew it would come to this. You just didn’t think you’d be on the losing side. If there was one thing you were never prepared for, it was him who’d pull the trigger on you.

“I said: shoot her.” He snarled, the gun aimed at your forehead had been shaking, god you remembered this so many times.

Glancing up weakly his expression was one you’d never forget, the way Seokjin’s eyes were blown out, his knuckle white from how harshly he gripped the gun, adrenaline in his own veins forcing it’s view into life as it shook. He looked horrified, as if living the horrors he’d dream of every night, “Shoot her Kim and you could go places. You’ve come so far, you’ve already killed so many...What’s one more?”

You swallowed thickly, fear shooting through your veins at the way Seokjin’s expression morphed, his fear suddenly dampening as if curious by his words, his eyes leaving yours as he turned his head ever so slightly, as if listening to his every word, “Seokjin jesus christ don’t listen to him. Please.”

“Do it. Pull the trigger Kim, just another faceless person to add to the body count.”

Fear twisted onto your face at the way he tightened his grip on the gun, slowly his lips curled into a smile, almost sneering down at you. Of course it would end like this. The way it was supposed to end, “Better luck next time L/n.”

The scream in your throat had ripped out as you shot up from the sprawled on position in bed, the wet substance of tears dripping down your cheeks despite the constant tremor in your body, your breath shaky as you ran a frantic hand in your hair. It was just a dream! It was just a dream! Seokjin would never do that to you. He never did.

You jumped at the sound of the door opening, a small whimpered sob escaping your lips at the sight of Seokin’s sleep ridden appearance, having heard the familiar cry through the walls as he sat down on the bed, wordless as you practically flew into his arms, a hiccup escaping your lips as you burrowed into the safety of his neck.

“Shhh, it was just a dream.” Seokjin hummed gently, lips pressing into your hair as you choked out a soft sob, “Was it the same one?” Wordlessly you nodded as you forced the ugly sob down your throat, tears silently treading down your cheeks as Seokjin laid you both down, his arms securely around you as he tucked you away against him.

Your tears slowly began to cease at the feeling of his hand stroking your back, occasionally tangling and playing with your hair as he continued to pepper your head with soft kisses soothingly, your heart rate had finally begun to slow down as Seokjin murmured, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” You spat out, your voice raspy, anger twisting in your veins despite your watery eyes, your hands had balled into fists against the white shirt he wore, “I hope he’s rotting in hell.” Seokjin only sighed, pulled away a little as he laid his head on the pillow you both shared.

His eyes had that soft gleam in them, the kind he’d only reserve for you in moments like this, when it was four in the morning and you’d have to be up soon for debrief, “You know I never intended on shooting you, right?”

Your eyes dropped to his chest as you felt his long fingers brush your near cold tears from your cheeks, “Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still tried to convince you too,” You were well aware of the bitter tone your voice held as you bit out, “Wish I could’ve been the one to kill him. I would’ve been a hell of a lot less merciful.” You snarled anger twisting in your eyes at the mental image, “He’d be begging for me to kill him.”

“Y/n…” Seokjin could feel a piece of his heart chip at the borderline insanity in your voice, the kind he and you both tiptoed on every day, you had been put through such a horrendous childhood, it amazed him Park hadn’t put you both in a mental ward yet, or at least in therapy, ”He’s dead.” Seokjin cupped your cheeks, his gaze penetrating your soul the way it always would in these late, dark hours, “You need to let it go. Holding on to this isn’t going to do anything for you.”

You felt your lips quiver, a small scoff escaping your mouth at your own patheticness, a new fresh stream of tears trickling down your cheeks as you murmured, “I wish I knew how.” You knew he was right, that you needed to let the resentment that had festered in your mind for your childhood, the horror you went through, you needed to let it all go. But how? Where could you begin? There was just so much. And it wasn’t like you could go to a regular therapist for this.

“Shhh.” Seokjin cooed softly, pulling you close to him as you let out another soft sob, curling against his warm body for safety.

The only person you would ever trust on this planet, you both had gotten on one another's nerves now more than anything. But Seokjin was all you had left in this world, you’d never let go of him, “Just try to fall back asleep, I’ll be here if you wake up.”

Your eyes were already falling heavy against your cheeks, the smell of strawberry body wash he insisted on using lulling you back to sleep, you’d be okay. You’d be okay as long as Seokjin was with you.

“So, rough night?” The boldness in your casual words, as if you hadn’t been sniffling and bawling your eyes out last night, was immense, if not annoying to everyone in the room, all dead eyes with a lack of sleep. You raised your brows at the silence you were met with at the oval dining table everyone sat at as you took a sip of the motor oil Yoongi considered coffee.

The only person who had been absent at the table was Taehyung- who had been getting cozy with a governor's wife in Peru, not out of actual interest for her. But for his job at seduction and information retrieval, he could undoubtedly have everyone their knee’s for him in the matter of ten seconds if he wanted. The power of being hot and knowing it.

Namjoon only sighed as he facepalmed, his protege though- the one with the permanent brooding scowl on his face ever since he laid eyes on you let his face screw into an even more sour look, as if that was even possible.

You couldn’t stop the snort from escaping your lips as your eyes met, “We’re not here for small talk.” Jungkook suddenly snarled at you, as if breathing the same air as you pissed him off. It probably did.

You whistled as you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly amused at the way he gritted his teeth and snarled like a rabid dog, “Aite damn. You don’t have to give me such a constipated look though- I mean seriously, you look like you’re about to bust the fattest shit since birth.” The gurgled choke came from Yoongi- the only person who could appreciate your dry yet somewhat cheeky sense of humor.

Jungkook suddenly stood up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table as he growled, everyone not bothering to intervene, as they all knew this was the only form of entertainment they’d ever get when you were all in the same room, “Is this some fucking game too you? Park has never called for all of us to be in the same fucking room. And all you can do is crack a joke?”

You clacked your tongue as you leaned back in your seat, such a hot head...Namjoon’s protege was something else. Not that you minded though, at least not completely, it meant you had someone to provoke meanwhile until Park could be benevolent enough and make time for you all, “He’s never called us together since you’ve been here,” Your eyes cut slightly and your words pointed, “This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Now get your panties out of a twist, me and Seokjin just lynched Wonho, whatever this is, can’t be more difficult than that.”

Jungkook was, the newest addition to the team by a little over a year. You didn’t know the details and furthermore you didn’t care.

As long as Namjoon trusted him you would as well, as you did trust his judgement. He was pragmatic and had a good read on people and if he thought Jungkook was worth taking in, then you’d imagine he had a good reason to believe so.

And the more you worked with Jungkook- against his will, you could understand why. He was a remarkable marksman and a hell of a shot, but he was also ill tempered, foul mouthed and had the maturity of an eleven year old boy, dare you mention it made sense given he was the youngest out of you all at the staggering infant age of 21.

Jungkook would have chipped a tooth at how hard he grinded his teeth together, glaring you down as if you’d explode upon contact, his childishness never ceased to amaze or amuse you, his sour expression almost made you laugh. Fortunately, it was a good thing you still had some self restraint left, being ever the observant and noticing the bulge in his pants you were almost eighty seven percent positive that was not a boner.

You didn’t think Jungkook would kill you, but you wouldn’t put it past him to take out a kneecap if you pushed enough buttons.

The doors, thankfully opened to the sight of Park Woojin, CEO and billionaire to one of the world's largest corporations, he was well known for his reserved yet charming nature and was almost always doing good works, funding for charities and such. He also just so happened to be your boss, the one who owned his own elite team of assassins and special unit for his every underworld need at the drop of a hat. He was untouchable. He was the devil in a three piece suit, walking in as if he had owned your lives.

It only served to make you angry that he did. Jungkook was a talented kid, he was smart and a good shot, you could commend him all day long- though never to his face as he didn’t need an ego the size of Park’s- but if there was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why in gods name did he willingly sign his life away.

On long nights you and Seokjin often mused the question; why would he do something so stupid? It was different with the rest of you, you didn’t get a choice in doing this, being who you were, Park did own you, he owned all of you. And for Jungkook to just...sign the contract. You couldn’t wrap your head around the concept. He didn’t just sell his soul to the devil, he gave it to Park on a silver platter.

“Good you’re all here.” Park pulled the seat out at the end of the table as he sat down, everyone had quickly straightened in their seats…besides you, too tired and not enough of a will to live anymore as you stayed slumped in your seat with said cup of motor oil in hand, “I have places to be so I’ll make this quick. L/n and Kim have terminated Wonho Thursday early morning. I’ve only found out last night that they were actually in deal with Jang.”

His dark eyes suddenly pierced on you, “You said Wonho was planning on destroying them correct,” You gave a brief nod, “My thoughts are he was attempting to earn their trust and take them out from the inside. Jang refuses to believe that and is out for redemption at the moment. You’re all to keep a low profile for now. They don’t know I was the one who sent you and right now we’re under suspect. No one is going on any missions or operations until this is resolved, understood?”

Everyone gave a nod yet no one spoke a word making Park stand up as he nodded, “Good. You’re free to stay or go but make sure you’re discreet in public. Especially you Y/n, you were the one inside the mansion last seen with Wonho.”

You only yawned with a nod, not taking his words too serious. This wasn’t the first time this had happened either. And if Jang seriously thought his shotty guys could take you out he was an actual idiot. Or at least that’s what you told yourself because you honestly didn’t have the energy to care anymore. Briefly you noticed Jungkook seemed to tense and Namjoon had shot him a look making you and Seokjin both glance at one another, as if catching the same moment.

At least there would be something to gossip about later.

Most people assumed by your dry, snarky and cynical personality you were above mundane things such as gossip. They were wrong in every way possible. What could possibly be more fun than to laugh at others misfortune and continue to spread false information, you and Seokjin took delight in hearing about any sort of campus drama, teammate drama, anything you guys could get your filthy hands on for discussion.

Hoseok was the first to jump out of his seat with a groan as soon as Park shut the door to the room, “Could’ve just sent us a text. Thanks for lighting the whole fucking mansion on fire by the way.” He sent you a sharp smile, yet when you looked closely you could see the minor flecks of annoyance that could cloud any sunshine smile he gave.

You clacked your tongue as you shot him finger guns, ignoring his annoyance because in all honesty if he wanted to get pissy with someone then he should’ve mentioned it to Park in the five minutes you briefly saw him, “Not my fault Park didn’t let us know we’d have a little imp crawling up everyone's ass last night. And here I had hoped you got toasted with the rest of that place.”

Hoseok couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping his lips, though annoyed, he was also one of the few who didn’t mind you. Well, most of the team didn’t mind you honestly. Hoseok in particular enjoyed word spar with you and was possibly the only person who never took it personally, “I’m like a roach babydoll-”

“Gross and ridden with diseases?” You cringed, initially realizing where he was taking the sentence but unable to resist another potshot.

“Unkillable.” Hoseok sent a wink, he was about as much of a playboy as Taehyung was, in all honesty, but the fact that he had really likened himself to a roach was both, cringeworthy and ballsy at the same time.

Seokjin lifted his lip slightly in disgust as he scoffed, “Babydoll and roach don’t belong in the same sentence.” He stood up as well, stretching out with a yawn, his hair dusting over his bangs and his eyes just as tired as everyone else's yet you could notice he seemed tensed and a little annoyed for reasons unknown.

Hoseok only let the smile curve on his lips again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he replied, “And Y/n would still jump in my bed if she went home with me.” You indignantly parted your lips to reply you most certainly would not. But then again...No words came out of your mouth as you considered, honestly, who were you to object to that?

“I...yeah okay fair enough.” You had come to terms with it, mutually agreeing that you would definitely sleep with him in such a scenario while watching Seokjin grit his teeth, looking at you sharply though you didn’t understand why.

Hoseok sent you a wink before exiting the room making you snicker, you were a shameless person, you wouldn’t lie and pretend like you were offended by his words when he was right.

Shrugging you stood up to join Seokjin as he rolled his eyes, choosing to say nothing though you could tell something snarky was on the tip of his tongue. You supposed you’d have to confront this new behavioral change eventually, just not right now when everyone was curiously eyeing you both.

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you!”

You froze at the angelic, sweet voice. All you wanted was a warm croissant roll and something sweet to drink. Was that too much to ask for anymore?

Coughing you whirled around to see the beautiful face of Park Jimin, his smile precious and sweet and eyes were practically sparkling at the sight of you. Why, why did he have to like the grungy, dead eyed kid that didn’t even go to college? You only hung around for the overly expensive coffee at this cutesy cafe.

You see, the problem wasn’t Jimin, well it was, but it really wasn’t because of him. He was the sweetest soul you had ever met and for some reason, had the most heart melting crush on you, except it was one sided.

Awkwardly, given he was your bosses son. If Park ever caught wind Jimin was associating with you, you were positive not even god could help you in that situation.

You still couldn’t see it. The fact that they were actually related. Jimin was nothing like his father, he was sweet and gentle, he’d probably cry if he ever had to hurt a fly, let alone a human.

And that was the saddest part.

Jimin wasn’t even aware of the empire he would soon inherit. The girl he had a crush on that he’d have to string up like a puppet and use for his benefit. You’d have to watch his father crush every ounce of innocence he had. The idea, actually hurt to think about.

You couldn’t help but wonder some days, if his smile would be the same after his father told him you were a slave assassin, that you had killed over hundreds of people and tortured plenty of others when Hoseok needed an extra hand, would he still like you when he saw the blood that stained your hands and the wrath in your veins?

Jimin, was the only person on the planet, that could possibly make you feel ashamed for who you were, what you did for a living. Jimin was like the sweet humanity you had been void of your whole life. You liked his presence, you genuinely could see yourself with him. Happy. But that was a reality you’d never indulge in. No this wasn’t a fairytale, and you weren’t going to act like there was a happy ending for you when there wasn’t.

“Don’t you have class?” You didn’t mean to come off as standoffish, but you could never fully get to know Jimin, at least comfortably. Furthermore, as much as you enjoyed his company you couldn’t help but wonder if Park knew about it already. About this, about his son’s interest in you. Was he waiting for the right moment? It was difficult to say but you didn’t want to risk it, you could toe the line with Park all day long but you knew when it was time to straighten up. The sooner you could shoo Jimin out the door the better.

Jimin raised his brows slightly, the soft tufts of honey blonde hair covering his forehead as he tilted his head in confusion, “It’s winter break Y/n. Are you busy…? I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

You could almost feel invisible sweat bead down your neck as you gave a tense smile, “No of course not! I just uh…” You glanced away, unsure of how to tell him the truth, you were avoiding him like the plague in some false hope he’d get the hint and stop coming around, “Sorry, you know I’m not in college. I don’t know off weeks for shit.” You offered a weak, apologetic smile, accepting your fate that you’d just have to entertain him for a few minutes.

At least until Seokjin got tired of waiting for his french hot chocolate you were holding and you knew he got pissy if you took to long at the counter. Jimin only laughed softly, that pretty smile on his plump pink lips and his nose was red from the cold weather outside, “It’s okay, going to college isn’t for everyone. But that’s why I’m here, I…” He trailed off for a second and you could vaguely see the pink dusting his cheeks that couldn’t have been from the cold weather, “I noticed you haven’t been here in awhile. I was almost sad at the idea you were avoiding me…”

“Why would I avoid you?” You gave a strained laugh, forcing your mind to not list every single reason on the long list in your head, “I was just out of town visiting family. But uh- I’m back now. I have some time off from work too so it’s nice.”

Jimin’s eyes suddenly lit up, the way they always did when you brought up your personal life. It wasn’t a secret he was curious about you more then he should’ve been and you would always shut down questions that borderlined too close to the truth on who you were.

So to see you volunteering information like your job and family had Jimin obviously excited. You couldn’t help but mentally cringed at your lie. If only he knew you didn’t have a family and your job was far from artsy and cute like his major in photography.

“Oh? I’m glad to hear then! I sometimes get worried I mean...I know you have your roommate but I just can’t help but get worried if you get lonely, you can always call me you know.” Jimin gave a sweet smile causing you to shift in your spot, glancing away as you gave a cough, rubbing the back of your neck as you shrugged.

“I really am fine...think of me like the hermit on the mountaintop- besides me and Seokjin have known each other since we were kids, I’ll be dead before he crawls out of my ass,” You huffed making Jimin laugh once more, his eyes crinkled like little crescent moons and his whole being radiated nothing but warmth and gentleness.

“Y/n,” You jumped at the sound of the devil, Seokjin held your upperarm like his life depended on it making you wince as you shot him a look, “Hey Jimin!” He gave a tensed smile before leaning a little closer to you, “Y/n we’re supposed to head to the grocery store, do you have our drinks?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his tense tone, you never went with him to get groceries either…”Uh...yeah?” In your line of work you never openly questioned him in these moments before shooting Jimin an apologetic smile, “Sorry....See you around though.”

Jimin looked a little disappointed, his face falling slightly making your stomach sucker punch as his eyes flickered to Seokjin’s hand on you, “Oh...of course! I’ll see you later Y/n, take care.” You couldn’t even hear Jimin finish his sentence as Seokjin dragged you out of the cafe, your lips twisting into a snarl at his heavy manhandling.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You dug your feet into the ground as you glared at him, you were waiting for him to interrupt but he didn’t have to drag you out of the building! And what the hell kind of excuse was getting the groceries? You were supposed to stay in the cafe and enjoy your drink instead of staying outside in jack frost’s asshole.

Seokjin only dragged you along the street, gritting his teeth as his eyes flickered around, his voice low and stern as he snapped lowly, “Guy seven o’clock by the entrance hasn’t took his eyes off you since we entered the building. Call me paranoid but given what just happened I’m not risking it.”

“Oh for christ’s sake.” You dug your heels into the ground as you forced him to stop, groaning as you threw your arms up in the air, “No seriously what the fuck is your problem? I don’t give two shits about the guy who was checking out my ass from where I stood, guys can’t even breath in my direction without you getting all pissy anymore.”

Seokjin suddenly glared down at you his eyes darkening a little as he grabbed your arm, “Stop fucking shouting,” His growled with a low voice, “Let’s just get home you’re being delusional.”

Your lips parted in offense, brows shooting up as you scoffed. You could endure a lot, you could be called a frigid bitch when you turned down guys, you could be called a whore, a slut and everything else in between. But you would not stand for being called delusional when you knew damn well you were not.

“Delusional!?” You shouted purposely as he dragged you along the sidewalk, “I’m not the one who looks like something crawled up his ass and died just for talking to Jimin. You did the same shit yesterday morning at that meeting too! Just fucking admit you have a problem and tell me what it is!”

You nearly yelped as you were shoved into a back alley, your drink dropped and your back pressed into the cold brick wall and Seokjin towering over your as he shoved a hand over your mouth, You scowled while looking up at him as he mouthed for you to ‘shut the fuck up’. You could hear muffled talking and the distinct sound of a radio before crunching footsteps walking past, “Fuck I just saw her.” “Shut up and spread out she’s around somewhere.”

You swallowed keeping your heartbeat steady as Seokjin let go of your mouth, quietly grabbing your hand before you both began to further down the alleyway, “Are you done being a drama queen?” Seokjin grunted quietly, glancing at both ends before dragging you to the right and popping back out onto a main side street, you shouldn’t be too far from your apartment but you’d need to be careful if you didn’t want to be followed.

“This conversation isn’t over.” You snapped back quietly, letting Seokjin lead you to the safety of your shared home. The rest of the trip back was silent and most people glanced at you both like you were two delirious crackheads and to be fair you felt like one too with how much sneaking Seokjin made you both do.

Sighing you opened the door to the apartment walking inside as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, choosing to stay silent as Seokjin carefully shut the door before locking it, his eyes peeled on the small glass panel that revealed the outside world as you crossed your arms. Sighing he back away from the door as he stretched out, “At least we’re stocked up on food, those guys will probably be around for the next few days, which means no going outside.”

He gave you a pointed look as if having already forgotten what you had said while outside. Seokjin paused after a moment, noticing your lack of banter and complaint before honing in on your rarely serious expression.

Sure you looked dead most days, and most would assume you were always serious and both glaring at everyone, which was partially true. But most didn’t see your furrowed brows and lips pressed together as if focused on Seokjin’s figure alone, “Oh jesus christ…” Seokjin groaned as he turned around walking towards the kitchen as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t care who you choose to sleep with Y/n, it’s not that deep.”

Your lips twisted into a scowl as you followed behind him, glaring holes into those stupid broad shoulders of his. He could act like he didn’t care all he wanted but you knew something was up and obviously it needed to be addressed before it bled over into your work life, which could potentially be fatal for you or him, or possibly both of you, “Don’t feed me that line of bullshit Seokjin! You’ve been broody for the past month, whatever is bothering you just fucking tell me.”

Whipping around Seokjin’s eyes suddenly squinted into a glare as if warning you to drop the subject, his jaw beginning to clench as he growled lowly, “Who says I’m brooding? That’s you’re trope not mine. Drop it Y/n, when have you ever cared before?”

You suddenly stepped back at his venom like words, your jaw dropping before you felt anger shooting through your veins that heroin had nothing on as your fists suddenly bawled up. How dare he say that! After everything you both have been through? How dare he fucking act like he had the right to say that! “Where the fuck did you get that idea? Are you dead in the head?” You snarled, stepping closer into his bubble as you shoved at his chest, “We’ve been through over ten years of utter hell and you have the fucking nerve to say I don’t care!? I’ve done nothing but try to talk to you and you won’t stop bitching and acting like you’re fine when you obviously aren’t!”

“And when I said drop it you won’t fucking listen. You’re so stubborn you know that?” Seokjin snapped, suddenly stepping closer as he backed you against the wall, “You only bothered to ask because it fucking suited you in the moment- don’t you act like some saint- like you actually didn’t notice beforehand. You’re only asking because I took you away from your idiotic dream boat Park-fucking-Jimin.”

You couldn’t even believe the words you were hearing at the moment. You could admit he was right, you had noticed beforehand but you didn’t assume it was detremential, or that it was something he even wanted to talk about it. And fair enough, you should’ve asked anyways but seriously!? Bringing Jimin into this was such a low blow, “Do you ever hear yourself right now!? What does Jimin even have to do with this!? I’m fucking tired of being dragged away, glared at with snide comments anytime I interact with another male, so I’m sorry it just so happened to be with Jimin, and who the hell gave you the right to dicitate who I like and who I don’t huh?”

“Oh so you do like him?” Seokjin accused vehemently, anger burning in his eyes as he lunged down, caging you between his arms, his breath hot and nose close to brushing against yours, “Like him, when he doesn’t even know who the fuck you are? What you do for a living? That you’re his dad’s personal assassin at beckon call? I’ve known you my whole life, have had your back for fucking years Y/n, years. I know who you are and I don’t give shit- I never did. So why are you out daydreaming about shit that won’t happen? Can’t happen? I won’t fucking let you run off on some childish notion and get killed because of it okay!? You are all I have in this goddamn world and I’m not about to lose you!”

Your lips had been sealed shut and your pupils dilated as your head pressed back against the wall as you glanced at him, he...he what? It was quiet for a moment but Seokjin’s intense gaze didn’t falter, as if waiting for you to argue back. As if anticipating your resistment, yet it never came. Instead, you let out a snort, as if realizing what this was about and why your partner had to be a dramatic premadonna, “Are you seriously jealous? For real?”

You watched him part his lips several times like a fish out of water before snarling, “I’m not jealous! I’m just being your babysitter before you do something dumb.”

Clacking your lips you sighed exasperatedly, you should’ve known something like this was going to happen eventually, “I never said I liked Jimin, and where the hell did you get the idea I was gonna run off with him? Where? Do you honestly think I’d leave? I mean, seriously.”

Seokjin’s face was flushed now, looking both embarrassed but too angry to admit it as he clenched his jaw once more, his hands suddenly grabbing at your hips with a possessive squeeze he was well known for when he became insecure.

“You look at him like some doe eyed damsel in distress,” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath against your ear stirring your body as you felt his hands slide to your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.

“And I’m the delusional one,” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way warmth quickly spread between your legs, “Seokjin, we’re partners. We have and always will be. Maybe the idea is nice but you're right.” You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his lips suddenly attaching to your neck, giving a nip at your skin in warning as if not evening wanting to hear about you liking the idea of being with Jimin, “You’re the only person I have left too dumbass, the only person I trust, you’re just as stuck with me as I am you.”

Seokjin immediately hauled you up against the wall, the muscles packed against his arms bulging against his white shirt as he held you up, tongue hot and lathing against your neck before letting his lips drag against the shell of your ear, “Never said I was complaining dipshit. Im gonna fuck you in every single room tonight,” You’re lips quivered with a quiet moan at his hips thrusting into yours, his thick hardened cock restrained in his jeans brushing against your thigh, “Make you forget everything except my name.”

“God you’re so possessive.” You sighed as he kept hold of you, moving you to the counter to set you down before grabbing at the hem of your shirt, peeling it up as his lips moved down your neck. You could feel a brief smile on Seokjin’s lips, as if knowing you were right, yet not bothering to apologize. It was okay, you didn’t want one anyways.

When you knew him your whole life, it was easy to say this wasn’t the first time this had happened, whether it was him or you. Sleeping together was both convenient and safe. You trusted one another more than anyone else, it made sense you’d keep one another satisfied sexually.

Seokjin made quick work of your bra before attaching his plump lips to your right bud making you let out a louder moan, his hips slotting between your thighs as you squirmed beneath him, your cunt already sticky and clinging to your panties, “Mmm fuck, you like it though, I know you do. Always moaning like a little bitch when I say you’re mine.” Seokjin gave a cocky smirk as he squeezed on your left breast before sucking against your right bud again, your breathy laugh mixed with another moan.

He was right, you did think it was hot, there was nothing like angry rough sex at three in the morning, rough whispered words saying who you belonged too while the bed rocked into the wall, “Well if you’d just fucking admit you’re jealous this wouldn’t happen.” You wheezed at the feeling of his hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gag at the expense of your airflow, “You know choking me is a good way to get a roundhouse kick in the gut. It activates my fight or flight response.”

Seokjin glanced up at you, his eyes lidded and smug as he dragged his tongue down your stomach, edging against the hem of your pants as he loosened his grip on your neck, “Can you not be sexy for five minutes?”

“Impossible.” You sighed dramatically as you leaned your head uncomfortably against the cabinet that held all of your mugs, acting as if this was an everyday topic rather than him about to eat the soul from your pussy, “We aren’t newly weds Seokjin, is foreplay really that necessary?”

Seokjin scoffed between your thighs, popping the button on your pants and unzipping them before curling his hands beneath the material as he peeled them off along with your panties. The cold air of the apartment was enough to make your soaked cunt all the more excited.

It had been too long since Seokjin had properly fucked you and your body was ready to wither beneath him, covered in sweat and cum from round after round of sex, “It isn’t when you’re that easy to make wet, look at that cunt,” He licked his lips, grabbing your thighs as he put them over his shoulders as he leaned down, a small whimper leaving your lips as your pussy lips spread and your wet cunt on display as he licked along your inner thigh, “So fucking wet and we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Your lips twitched in annoyance at him as you replied, “Well if someone wasn’t so picky about where we had sex this woul-Oh!” You let out a high pitched moan as Seokjin wrapped those damn plump lips around your sensitive clit, having not been touched in over two weeks making your eyes snap shut at such intense attention, “Oh fuck…” You moaned softly as your hands tangled in his fluffy tufts of black hair.

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” Seokjin hummed before letting his tongue drag back against your clit once more, your hips eagerly rolling along his tongue as you felt his hand follow up your thigh until his fingers began to tease your entrance, “Mmm fuckin’ mine, bet Jimin wishes he was buried in this little cunt right now.”

You couldn’t even properly respond as Seokjin pushed a finger inside you, your walls clenching as his tongue lathed against the sweet spot of your swollen clit making you yelp as you kicked against his back, “F-fuck, Jin.”

Pleasure was rapidly spiking through your body and it was nearly pathetic how quick Seokjin could make you cum when he wanted too. Pushing another finger inside you he curled his fingers into that spongy little spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your back arching in probably an unflattering way as you whined, “Beg for it,” Seokjin lazily demanded, as if he could suck on your pretty clit all day, and if challenged, he probably would, “Fuckin’ beg for it.”

“You’re such an assh-Oh! Fuck please! Please jesus christ Jin please!” You whined at the way he harshly sucked your clit to get you to shut up, his fingers digging into your g-spot making your walls rapidly clench and convulse around his fingers, your orgasm as close as your hands tugged against his hair, “Mmm! Shit please, let me cum all over your face please.”

Seokjin let his tongue slip past his lips as he continued lathing against your clit, eyes focused on your fucked out expression as you clenched around him nearly screaming at the way your orgasm hit you all at once, walls squelching around his fingers as they were coated in your cum. Seokjin expertly helped you come down from your hazey high as your thighs began to tremble, pulling his fingers from you as he stood up, licking his lips smug as he demanded, “Suck.”

With quivering lips you parted them obediently as Seokjin pushed them into your mouth, sucking the salty thick substance from his slim fingers as he gleamed down at you proudly, “Bet he jerks his little dick to the idea of you sucking on his fingers too.”

Popping his fingers from your mouth you huffed, running a hand through your hair before clacking your tongue, “How many times do I have to say I don’t like Jimin.” It seemed that was the wrong wording though as any mention of Jimin’s name from you had Seokjin curving a brow, picking you up by the thighs Seokjin had lead you down the hall as he nipped against your neck, “Stop saying his fucking name.”

You were dropped at the head of the bed, subjected to watch Seokjin pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the godlike body beneath, there were more than plenty of scars and bruises, a few nicks here and there but his muscles were chiseled and toned from his years spent as an assassin. You’d kiss every scar on his body if he’d let you, “I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying Jimin- oh shit.”

You swallowed when he opened the nightstand drawer to grab the handcuffs that had been conveniently left there from the last time you both had slept together, his tongue tucked into his cheek as he raised his brows, your cunt dripping in arousal and cum at the way he always looked so hot when he was pissed, “Oh shit is right you little brat.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he straddled your stomach, your first reaction was to fight him but it was little use as he grabbed your arms, shoving them above your head as he wrangled your wrist into one side, “Maybe you shouldn’t be such a fucking smartass and I wouldn’t tie you up.” Seokjin successfully cuffed you to the railing, leaving you at his mercy as he straightened up, looking down at you like you were dirty beneath his feet, “But that little cunt likes it right? My filthy little bitch likes to be tied up and made to take what she’s given, right?”

Your pupils narrowed into a glare, not in any position to be objecting when your pussy was coated in cum and begging to be stuffed full of his cock yet you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your lips in a bratty fit of rage, “More like you can’t keep me in one spot without the help.”

Seokjin’s lips twitched at your defiance, yet on another hand also not surprised by it long too used to your bratty ways as he grabbed slid off you to grab your thighs, pulling them back over his shoulders before you felt a sharp sting on your ass making you yelp, “Should I gag that little bitchy mouth too?”

You couldn’t even find a haughty reply before suddenly whimpering, the feeling of his wet, warm tongue plunging inside you making your walls clench around him while giving a breathy moan, his fingers teasing their way up your clit before circling your sensitive bud, “Fuck! A-ah! You’re such a dick.”

His hand immediately left your clit to slam his hand against your ass in warning, the sting traveling to your cunt in excitement as your walls clenched around his tongue once more, a laugh escaping your lips that you disguised as a moan before curling your back at the way his tongue roughly dragged into your g-spot, the skin of your hands digging into the cuffs as you rattled against them.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your hand as Seokjin let his fingers circle over your clit once more, a whine of objection leaving your throat as he pulled his tongue from your, licking his lips as he continued to play with your sensitive bud, “Have you considered shower sex before?”

No amount of pleasure in the world could keep the glare off your face, watching the way that little shit’s lips were tempted to pull into a smile as you sneered, “You want my pussy at all or should I go ask Jimin for some help?”

His gaze twisted into a mutual glare, eyes darkening and it was only now you realized you had royally screwed yourself over as he dropped your thighs, almost ignoring your words for the moment as he stood up.

Your eyes however dropped down to his pants as they slid to the floor revealing the thick angry cock bouncing up to his abdominal, it was not only long but it’s girth had your body clenching all over against and his bulbous tip would always be a painful stretch no matter how much prepping, “Oh yeah? Well how about we give him a call then? Let him decide if you’re being taken care of?” Seokjin asked, his voice in a near sneer as he grabbed your legs, pressing them against your chest making you whine, “Let him know this pussy is getting stuffed and cumming all over my dick?”

You struggled to kick your legs as the feeling of the thick shaft of his cock running against your wet, cum coated cunt, rubbing past your clit as you moaned, too much teasing being done to you as Seokjin growled, “Want my cock you little slut? Then beg, I want to hear how bad you need it.”

Whining your face twisted into a rare pout, you had already begged once today and he was really going to make you throw your dignity out the window? You whimpered with a gag at his hand suddenly grabbing back against your throat again, “Should I get out a vibrator too?”

Your body was heating up with fresh arousal at the idea but before you could even reply Seokjin squeezed at your throat, “You know what? I will, I wanna see my little bitch in tears tonight, see how bad she needs me.”

Seokjin leaned over your body before grabbing the wand that was inside the nightstand, your thighs already rubbing together in need of another release. You couldn’t help but swallow at the click of the vibrator, the buzz worst then any gun to your head could imitate, “Spread your cunt, I know you like being a little whore and putting it on display.”

“Maybe I’d like it more for Jimin.” You challenged, eyes squinting as Seokjin gritted his teeth, not hesitating to pry your legs open before roughly pressing the vibrator into your clit, a loud whine echoing off the walls as your hips spasmed and rocked up into the vibrator.

“Jimin this, Jimin that,” Seokjin rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched as he turned it up a setting, moaned whimpers escaping you as you tugged rapidly against the restraints that held you, “Just admit you like being turned into a little bitch, you like when I play with this cunt until it’s dripping wet and soaked in cum,” You cried out at the feeling of two fingers plunging back inside you, the lewd wet squelch of your walls rapidly clenching around him as he clacked his tongue, “Is your little pussy gonna cum again? Do you need cum?”

“Please.” The cracked whimper wasn’t as enticing as you had hoped but you could hardly process a word anymore, too much stimulation overwhelming you as Seokjin sneered at your pathetic attempt

Seokjin suddenly curled his fingers inside you with a growl as you kicked your legs and your eyes began to burn with tears, “I know you can do better than that. I said: Fucking beg.” His fingers continued rapidly curling into your g-spot, the vibrator in your clit almost too much to handle as he skillfully continued to edge you.

“Mmm! A-ah fuck, please! Please! Shit, wanna cum so bad, please!” What was left of your dignity had completely crumbled as the words flew from your lips, vision blurring with tears as your body burned to intensely only for Seokjin to pull away, “Please! Need it so bad, please.”

Seokjin let the sadistic smile twist onto his lips, watching the way your body quivered beneath him, the tears trickling down your cheeks and completely submissive beneath him, turning down the vibrator before letting the tip circle around your entrance, enjoying the way your body twitched as he hummed, “Are you gonna be a good girl and apologize? You should be thankful I play with this cunt as much as I do.”

Dragging the vibrator up your slit before coaxingly rubbing over your clit, a small sob escaped your lips as your hips bucked up into the vibrator, his fingers pushing back inside you before curling once more into your g-spot, “A-ah I’m sorry! Please, please, please I’m sorry!”

Your cracked, whimpered words like music to Seokjins ears as he felt your walls tighten around him, “And what do you want baby? Use your words.” His mouth near watering at the way your hips rolled against his fingers, your little hole taking his fingers so easily as your face became nearly unrecognizable to anyone else besides himself. “Mmm! Please!” You whined your clit thrumming with vibration as you cried, a new stream of tears dripping down your cheeks at his torture, “Please let me cum, please! Need it so bad, please.”

Seokjin let his tongue graze against his lips, reveling in your pleading as he finally let out a smile, turning the vibrator up once more that gained another sob from you as he coaxed, “There’s my good girl, now cum all over my fingers, be a good girl and cum.”

Your walls were rapidly clenching around him and your clit was throbbing as the moan caught in your throat, the force of the orgasm enough to rip it out into a scream as a new sob escaped your, your body twisting and snapping in hot searing pleasure.

“Mmm fuck that’s a good girl.” Seokjin guided you through your orgasm with ease before gently pulling his fingers from you and turning off the vibrator as your thighs trembled. Your mind nearly blank as you continued reeling from pleasure.

You barely even registered when Seokjin had uncuffed you from the bed while whistling, “Jesus, I think this is the most fucked out you’ve ever been, are you gonna be able to take getting stuffed full?”

Despite his words he and you both were well aware this was far from the first time you had been this fucked out, Seokjin didn’t even looked worried at the way you trembled, having become so well acquainted with your body, “I didn’t just beg like a cheap pornstar to be told I’m not getting dick.”

That was enough to cause that annoying windshield wiper like laugh to sound as he spread your legs making you jump, mirth in his eyes at your crabbiness, having never been a fan of begging- or subbing before but Seokjin was also aware he was the one exception, “I know you love my dick but calm down it’s not going anywhere.”

A breathy whine escaped your lips as Seokjin let his thick bulbous tip circling against your entrance before pushing inside you, the stretch burning and pleasure shooting through your sensitive walls as Seokin didn’t bother to wait for you to adjust, his hips immediately slamming into yours as your back arched with a whine, “You know- you never did answer me, should we call him? Let him listen to your little pathetic moans? Let his dick get hard at the idea of fucking my girl.”

Your mind could hardly register his words, too caught up at the feeling of his cock squeezing into your small hole and brushing over your g-spot with each stroke as your hands clawed against his back, “Fuck- are you insane?” You tried to turn it into a snap but all it came out as was a pathetic whine, hips rolling with his as his hand dragged down to rub over your clit again, a moan escaping your lips at the sensitivity as you clenched around his thick shaft, “My phone’s back in the kitchen.”

Seokjin let out a moan before huffing, “I’m trying to be sexy, can you play along for once?” You both couldn’t help but let out a shared strained laugh as his hips continued to roll against your’s, his cock completely coated in both your cum and arousal making a mess against your thighs. Unexpectedly Seokjin pulled out of you making you whine as you popped up indignantly, royally fucked out with dried tears on your cheeks and a hoarse voice, “I am not finished with your dick yet.”

Sitting up Seokjin pulled you into his lap, the first time you’d gladly be manhandled all day as you quickly grabbed his throbbing dick, pumping his base a few times before properly sinking down on it, a quiet moan escaping you both as he let out a strained chuckle, “You’re such a fucking-”

You yelped at the loud smack of his hand stinging against your ass, “Cockslut.” Your walls clenched at the degradation, hips suddenly rolling as you bounced against his thick cock, whining as you buried into his neck, “Oh you like that? Being my little cockslut?” You moaned at the feeling of his hand spanking against your ass once more, the sting burning in your skin making your walls clench harder, “Riding my dick because you’re a needy little slut? Does that cunt need my dick?”

“Mmm please...!” You whined, having been teased too much to challenge him anymore, skin slapping against skin with every bounce of your hips, you were so fucked out on his cock you could hardly focus on anything but the way it’s thick throbbing shaft split your pussy open and the way it rubbed just the right way into your g-spot, “Yes, my pussy loves riding it.”

The wet squelch of your body clenching around him forced a moan from Seokjin’s lips, “That’s right, my dirty little bitch.” You whined at the smack of his hand on your ass once more. Seokjin’s hand dived down to your clit once more, rubbing it as you cried out tears immediately stinging your eyes once more at how sensitive it was, hips bucking and bouncing against him as his tongue dragged against your neck, “Gonna cum all over my cock? Make a big mess like the little bitch you are?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice desperate and cracked as Seokjin rubbed down on just the right spot against your swollen, sore bud causing you to clench once more, Seokjin let out a long deep moan as you felt the warm thick string of his release cream inside of you leaving your pussy a swollen, sticky messy as you slowed your hips down.

“You know…” You had to pause for a second as you let yourself heave and gulp for air, coming down from your high of sex before continuing, “If you ever feel like you’re being replaced, you should just talk to me about it- seriously.” You leaned a little away from him to look him in the eyes.

While angry sex was a personal favorite between you both, it was by no means an actual remedy to your problems, and Seokjin knew this, his eyes a little bashful as he sighed, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, “No...I...I was just childish...I never liked sharing you when we were younger either, this isn’t any different I just…”

He set his chin down on your shoulder to get away without having to look at you, feelings were always something that felt a little awkward to discuss, but you cared about one another so much you both would always force it out from the other, “You mean so much to me Y/n, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, whether it’s from dying, or you just getting tired of me and leaving-I just- I need you. You’re the only reason I have left to keep going.”

“Seokjin…” You sighed, pulling yourself off his now softened cock before properly seating yourself in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist before wrapping your arms around him in a much accepted hug, “I’m not going anywhere. And if you feel like I’m going too, you need to talk to me about it. I know you’re a total dumbass and it’s difficult to believe but you’re all I have left too. I’m not going anywhere, we’re partners, always have and always will be,” You pulled away from him before giving him a cocky wink, “Til death do us part motherfucker. Now let’s go watch a movie or something, your cum makes me feel like a sperm bank.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seokjin furrowed his brows as you stood up, hobbling over to his dresser as you grabbed a hoodie.

“The same thing as beatface.” You wiggled the hoodie over your head before rolling your eyes. Your life was anything but easy, and there was still so much to come, but you’d be okay, you and Seokjin would always have one another’s back, and even the sky could fall but you’d be fine. As long as you had him, “You know what? Nevermind, you’re worthless Kim, just pick a fucking movie.”

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader smut #seokjin x y/n #jin x reader #jin smut #seokin smut #assassin au #assassin!seokjin #assassin!reader #bts au #bts assassin au

556 notes · View notes