#thinking my content always light

[ikemengoessbrrrrr]

Doodles ft. Class rep Ataru

[cecoeur]

How do you sleep at night? No one to hide behind Betrayed every alibi you had You had every chance to make amends instead you got drunk on bitterness And you still claim that you're innocent, it's sad

[xinganhao]

a quick message of gratitude! 💌 thank you for all the love on vernon x rockstar!reader, or catch you when i can. of all my work, it's the one i've seen the most referenced in 2024 wrappeds & the like, which i remain immensely humbled by. extra parts on this verse coming soon. ♡

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Dragonfruit

YA fantasy

set on an island queendom, where dragon eggs are fabled to be able to undo a person’s greatest sorrow, and people have magical animal-tattoo companions

a girl who’s been living in exile since her father stole the last dragon egg, meant to save an ailing princess, finds herself back at her home island after an encounter with a dragon hunter

and the princess’s son, desperately searching for a dragon egg to bring his mother out of her eternal sleep

[kathybluecaller]

Finally got around drawing Aioros :D

[mad-hunts]

barton being awkward at first or even completely throughout a whole interaction whenever he's trying to comfort people is so in character for him TBH and let me tell y'all why because i think it's important to his character:

he can fake a lot of things. barton can fake being nice to people, he can fake being innocent, and he can even fake having a much stronger sense of morality around people if he wants to — but whenever it comes to empathizing with someone on an emotional level... barton finds himself often struggling with faking it because of the nature of it. and this is due to it being different than whenever he's trying to feign something easily comprehensible like innocence. but empathy is something that's usually viewed as innate in us as humans and has to do with love, which doesn't depend on logic. it's something that comes from within, so it doesn't have clear parameters as to how you should do it, so whenever barton tries to fake it in the event that he's trying to make someone feel better; he'll stumble. and so although barton can cognitively empathize with someone, his efforts to actually put himself in other people's shoes fall flat, as he just can't physically imagine himself being in someone else's position probably more than half the time.

so if your muse were to ever come to him seeming upset, barton would likely not know what to do / how to comfort them, at least for a bit before referencing back on how he's seen other people do it. because i hate to say it (i don't, in reality, but y'all know what i mean LOL) but barton does actively mimic behaviors that he sees people do whenever he feels the absence of a certain emotion. he especially does this whenever he's trying to appear charming to other people, but like i said, he'll also try to use what he's seen his peers do as a guide as for what he should do in regards to empathy. and sometimes he may even seem a bit flustered before he's able to do this because he knows that it is expected of him to be able to empathize with people and can identify it in other people BUT knowing how to approach faking it has always been sort of hard for him even as an adult.

but yeahhh, that's just my own two cents about how barton sometimes break character that he is quote unquote ' normal, ' though he does try to mask this around people who aren't really familiar with him as simply being social awkwardness. however, it is part of a larger thing with him as despite the fact that he can blend in with the population REALLY well and also is pretty good at manipulating others, i suppose you could say that barton is still not an expert at ' constructing empathy ' because whenever someone is visibly hurt in front of him... he is more liable to act like he isn't sure what to do, than to put on an act immediately since he is likely to feel nothing first before anything else. and i realize that that is a rather unsettling thought, but i think that he is a lot more suspectible to doing this with people he doesn't know well / who he isn't particularly close to, as he's got a lot more practice with being falsely empathetic towards friends and/or sometimes even family members.

[jrueships]

who would you most like to read jrue being paired with in a fic?

Me .

[self-spaghettification]

the theories in my drafts 👁️👁️

the theories i haven’t read 👁️👁️

me the past few weeks😴

me now 🔥🔥

[sludgeguzzler]

so much people post about how tiny little things will make them drop a fic entirely. im out here ignoring the wildest grammatical errors and giving all the credit i can muster to a fic just because the author posted it

[petiolata]

For me it's not the self-conscious part of my brain. My creations are not a product for consumption. I will talk about my works' flaws and my struggles with making them, those are parts of my creative process and I like to share those with others, and I like when others artists and writers do the same.

I don't have to pretend to be perfect, or that my work is perfect. Nor do my summaries, notes, tags, have to be designed with maximum appeal to a consumer.

I understand that some people have a problem with self-deprecation and shame about their works, but not everyone discussing the flaws in their work is having an unhealthy mental process at play. Some of us are objective in our observations, or at the very least, our observations are not being driven by negative emotions.

I would not advise people to pretend they think their work is good, if they don't. There's not really a reason to fake confidence unless you have a concrete goal it serves, like getting accepted into a college or job, or better selling products. Outside of that, it serves no purpose in itself.

Now, actually changing the way you think about or view your work--that can be good. But simply hiding the bad thoughts is doing just that--hiding them, sweeping them under the rug. They still exist.

you'll get the urge as an artist or a writer to say out loud the things you're worried about "the proportions are off" "kind of out of character" "i'm not good at summaries" "didn't get as much detail as i wanted" "i made a mistake and here's how" and that's the self-conscious part of your brain telling you "it's bad and if you don't tell them you know it's bad then they'll think you're stupid" but you've got to ignore that little voice and pretend you think it's good or else that little voice is going to ruin your life

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kurooh]

MATCH MY FREAK ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso tryin’ to keep up with their freak of a girlfriend.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, oral, passing out, spitting, some degradation, squirting, public sex, light slapping, choking. | 3.4k words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. needed characterization practice loll. comment & rb if you enjoyed <33

GOJO SATORU # matches you

“aw, you’re so cute when you’re slutting yourself out for my fucking cock, baby,” satoru coos, lips trailing over your pebbled nipples while his tip teases your messy cunt. it was a mistake, deciding to play a stupid game of chicken with him—the gist of the game was to tease one another, and see who’d give up first.

you’d overestimated yourself just a little; you both ended up fully naked, with satoru on top of you and unwilling to let you go so you could make a fair move. but of course, you didn’t want to give up, and neither did he—it doesn’t even matter, not when he’s winning the game like this.

you bite down on your lower lip, weakly closing your thighs in an attempt to push him back to even out the playing field. “oh, is this the first sign of defeat, baby?”

“absolutely not,” you hiss, brows knitting when he tosses your thighs apart and nudges his tip inside you. “you cheated, i can’t even make a fair move.”

“all’s fair in a game of chicken and sex. don’t complain, ‘s not my fault you overestimated yourself.” satoru’s snicker has your heels digging into his lower back as you force him to push his cock inside you; his expression melts into one of pure euphoria as he sinks in, inch by inch.

“how’s that, satoru?” you purr, satisfied. he glares at you, azure eyes hooded and heavy with lust; without even slipping out of you, he flips you over onto your stomach and presses your head into the sheets. beneath the two of you, the bed groans, creaking growing loud as he moves his hips, slamming into you so hard the headboard bangs against the wall.

“got some nerve . . thinking you could show me how to fuck, tsk,” he shakes his head, punctuating his words with harsh thrusts.

“fuck!” you sob, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his waist to pause him for a moment. you’re still thinking about the game, but satoru’s aching for more after having been teased for so long.

“give up and just focus on cumming for me, babygirl,” he grunts into your ear, savoring the gasps you can’t seem to stop letting out. his balls slap into your clit, and the room fills with the filthy sound of fucking—skin against skin, groaning, and begging.

you can’t even form one thought about being competitive when satoru’s fucking every single thing out of your head. “r-right there, toru,” you wail, arching upwards and pressing your ass against him.

satoru gifts it with a smack that rings through the room, then lifts your lips up and doesn’t even give you a second to adjust to the new angle that has you taking his cock both deeper and faster. just when you think you can’t take any more, satoru slips a hand beneath your body and plants his palm firmly against your lower stomach.

“eh, what’re you doing?” wordlessly, satoru draws his hips back until only his tip is left inside you, then presses down with his hand before canting his hips forward. it’s too much—you all but scream as he mercilessly plunges into you again and again.

your body is slick with sweat and only growing hotter by the moment; the sound of his rough panting coupled with the occasional whine he lets out only has you burying your face deeper into the sheets.

satoru clicks his tongue, voice shaking ever so slightly. “arch it for me, baby—fuckkk, that’s perfect.”

he’s delirious with pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head while his face only flushes a darker pink from the heat of it all. that was the thing about him — he could always dish it out, and take it, but not for long.

“i-i’m gonna cum,” and his voice splinters into a whine at the end of his sentence, spurring you on to fuck him back. you’re tossing your hips back onto him, bouncing your ass so deliciously he wants to take a bite. “shit, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to me, satoru,” you manage, turning back at the right moment. icy blue eyes connect with yours and he uselessly blinks away the tears that are gathered on his waterline, only for a few to spill over and run down his cheeks. “cum inside me, make it yours, toru.”

with a groan of your name, satoru’s abs clench as he spills inside you, cock twitching against your cervix. he presses down harder on your lower stomach, drawing out your own orgasm.

“just like that, toru—” you interrupt yourself with a moan as your pussy gushes all over, spraying onto his pelvis and cock.

“that’s my girl,” satoru groans, lightly smacking your clit and chuckling at the way your entire body trembles in response. “by the way, the game was a tie.”

GETO SUGURU # matches you

“open. good girl,” suguru spits onto your awaiting tongue, violet eyes observing expectantly as you swallow. his spit tastes like the grape lollipop he’d been sliding between his lips on your walk around the city together. now, in the backseat of his car, he’s got you caged beneath him, gripping your jaw with one large hand.

“you’re so cute, really,” suguru says with a snort, lightly smacking at your cheek. “your idea of a date is going around and flirting as much as possible. hm, ‘s like you were trying to piss me off, end up like this in the car. you know how busy this place is, don’t you?”

“i don’t care,” you pout, tugging the hem of your shirt upwards to reveal your stomach; he doesn’t stop you as you slide your shorts halfway down, revealing the lace of the panties you’re wearing, all for him. “just touch me, sugu. please?”

“you’re so needy,” he scoffs, although his voice lilts into a willing tone as he unbuttons your shorts and inches backwards to allow you to toss your legs over his shoulders.

suguru’s dark hair is soft from the premium shampoos and conditioners he uses meticulously; half of it was tied up in a tight bun while the rest flowed freely past his shoulders. until you pulled his hair free from its ties and gathered the silky tresses between your fingers, impatiently tugging him towards the place you needed him most.

“would it kill you to be patient?” suguru’s question is genuine as he leaves open mouthed kisses on the tender skin of your inner thighs, nipping lightly to tease you a little more.

“yes,” you huff, fingers relaxing in his hair as he moves closer to your already messy pussy, reveling in the sight of his favorite snack (dessert?).

“shit,” suguru’s voice is strained as he feels arousal resonate through his entire body, causing his temperature and heart rate to spike. “you’re fucking soaked, princess.”

“what’re you waiting for?” you moan, frustrated by the sight of his tongue as he speaks, eager to feel him use it on you.

he ignores you then, opting to land a light slap to your pussy. the force of his palm coming down on your already sensitive clit sends sparks of pleasure through the entire lower half of your body, eliciting a drawn out whine from your lips.

“s-spit on it,” you manage, squirming beneath his heavy gaze. he’s practically burning holes into your skin with those pretty purple eyes of his.

“you want it realll bad, don’t you?” suguru’s tone is nothing short of mocking as he continues to stay a frustrating distance away from your cunt.

frantic for his touch, for him—your hips jolt upwards, and you cry out when he shoves them back down easily. “come on, sugu—i can handle it.”

“yeah? you won’t tap out this time?”

“god, i-i want you to ruin me.”

the admission pulls a laugh from between his lips, and yet he doesn’t waste any time diving forward to devour you. suguru’s tongue strokes up your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip before darting forward to push inside you. the action is meant to tease, to piss you off, and it does.

“d-don’t do this right now, sugu,” your fingers tighten in his hair as you pull him forward insistently.

“alright, alright,” his lips move against your lower pair and he slides his hands beneath your ass to scoop you closer. in a matter of seconds; suguru’s got his whole mouth on you now, sucking and licking and slurping obscenely. the wet noises fill the car, coupled with your shared moans.

tasting you and hearing you is all he really needs to be satisfied; the way you’re tugging on his hair is painful at first, but it quickly becomes something that has him moaning louder than you. that was his achilles heel—his hair, of all things. when pulled just right, or brushed gently, he couldn’t ever stop himself from making those low, yet pretty sounds of his. sometimes his scalp would grow sensitive after a while, and his grunts would turn into pitched moans he couldn’t control.

without a care for the many people passing by the parked car, your back arches off the backseat, tits bouncing deliciously beneath your shirt. “‘m close, sugu—just like that, d-don’t stop!”

he inserts a single finger inside you, filling you up and stretching you out nicely. then, he curls it deeply, prodding against that sweet spot of yours. he’d committed all the places that’d make you tick to memory, and this happened to be one of the top three. suguru’s cheeks darken from the heat of it all as he sucks your clit between his lips and lavishes it with attention from his tongue.

it’s as soft as silk and yet so rough as it drags up and down the swollen bud. your hips jolt upwards again and again, body thrashing as the white hot pleasure circulates throughout your insides, pooling deep in your stomach. the knot frays with each passing second, your toes curling as you hurtle closer to euphoria.

“s-suguru,” you moan. he looks up at the right time to see your eyes rolling back as you dissolve into pleasure. “‘m gonna cum, i—”

your brain short circuits as the knot inside you snaps, cunt squeezing hard around his finger and fluttering as he draws it backwards. your clit hardens beneath his tongue, and he moans from the sensation, the vibrations making you jerk.

suguru’s kind enough to let you ride it out, fingers gripping his hair to the point of potential baldness. he doesn’t mind, especially not when you squeak out a blissed out, dazed “t-thank you, sugu.”

NANAMI KENTO # doesn’t match you yet

“fucking—shit, angel, slow down,” kento swallows a whine, trying not to beg. his head tips back, strands of his blonde hair escaping their neat gel hold and falling over his forehead. “come on, you’re going too fast.”

his pleas fall on deaf ears as you smirk and lean in towards that sweet, sensitive spot on his neck that always has him seeing stars once it’s touched the right way. you giggle against his skin, leaving a few wet kisses along his neck before sinking your teeth. the bite is entirely playful, but his abs clench tightly against you and he sucks in a breath.

the couch is creaking loudly from the ferocious and aggressive way you’re riding him, hips slamming into his without a single concern for how sensitive he is from prior orgasms. uncharacteristic whines pour from his lips along with heaving pants of your name as kento frantically searches for purchase on your hips.

“what’s wrong, kento?” you purr, kissing away the drool from the corners of his lips. he’s got hearts in his eyes from the chaste action; the dichotomy between the sweetness and nastiness is so overwhelming . . kento’s fingers dig into the plush skin at your hips as he tries to stop you.

“n-no need to go so fast. let me guide you instead, princess,” but he’s really just trying to save himself the embarrassment of cumming again and sobbing from the overstimulation.

kento’s neck absorbs the soft moans you let out as he moves your hips at a much slower, languid pace. “fuck, ken, ‘s good . . little faster, please?”

he tugs his lower lip between his teeth. “be patient. just keep your eyes on me, angel.”

“but it - it’s not enough,” and your hips increase, returning to the beginning of your wild pace. the loud squelching sound of your pussy and the smacks of skin against skin drown out whatever he says next, but he seems to accept it. his cheeks are flushed and his face is covered in a sheen of sweat, and although he’d been desperate for reprieve earlier he’s accepting being ridden like a horse now.

each drag of your sticky cunt on his cock pulls plenty of sound from the both of you. this is the first time you’ve ever ridden his cock—first time anyone has ever—and all of his concerns are melting away as he fully submits to you. to your cunt—he’s completely pussydrunk.

“shit, angel,” he swallows, body bowing forward as he presses his face into your chest, allowing your tits to smack against his cheeks. “i-i’m gonna cum again—i don’t think i can anymore after this, you’ll have to—”

you tilt his chin upwards and connect your lips to his, swallowing the sounds he makes as he comes undone. you can only tremble as his cock throbs inside you, and his head falls against you weakly after he lets out a choked groan.

“ken, feels so fucking good,” you sob, fingernails raking over the taut muscles of his back. those marks will sting tomorrow under his suit, a sultry reminder of you. his breaths come in harsh pants against your skin, and he makes no move to pull away as you ride him to completion.

you’re sore, and the room is hot and smelling of nothing but sex, but you’re too close to stop. there’s no need to give a warning as your cunt spasms on him, squeezing his cock so hard he’s pushed out of you. the loss of fulfillment makes you hiss, and you nudge him lightly, helping him sit back.

kento has passed out — he’s quite literally fucked out, eyes closed and all as his chest rapidly rises and falls. of course, his swollen cock still stands at attention between his legs, tip prodding against you.

FUSHIGURO TOJI # is freakier

“run that by me again, doll. i dare ya.”

toji’s voice is low and deep as it rumbles from his chest, his raspy demand sending a hot rush of excitement right between your legs. “t-toji,” is all you can squeak out, legs spreading weakly as he tosses them to the side to make more room. “i-i said, i can’t keep going—”

fushiguro toji was not a patient man, nor was he someone who tolerated quitting or giving up in any kind of way, regardless of the situation. the idea of you attempting to tap out this early after teasing him all fucking day truly flipped a switch in his brain. it honestly set him off, like a spark of fire to a stick of dynamite.

“aw, just shut up, baby,” toji twists a hand into your hair and yanks your head backwards, leaning close to savor the sight of your arched back as well as to speak directly into your ear. his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, making the skin hotter. “ya really thought that’d work? after all that shit you pulled today?”

“i didn’t mean to get you so worked up—” a nip to your earlobe silences you immediately, and a moan slips from between your lips, betraying the genuineness of your request.

“listen to you . . ya want to get fucked like a whore, isn’t that right?” toji hisses, rocking his hips forward and nudging his cock deeper in your tight cunt. the sensitivity is killer, but toji doesn’t care about that—it’s simply an excuse.

“you deserve this, dollface. can take one more, can’t you?”

with your hair wrapped around his fist, back forced into an arch, legs spread wide, there’s no other way you can answer him besides saying yes. always testing the waters with him, but toji would amp it up and have you crying by the time it was all over.

you let your head hang, lifting your hips to help him out; the sound of slick bodies smacking against one another coupled with his heavy panting is enough to have you whining his name, tears streaking down your cheeks. your hand slips between your legs to rub at your swollen clit since you know he’s too annoyed to do it for you.

behind you, toji arches a brow but says nothing, opting to fuck you harder. his heavy balls slam into your fingers, messing up your movements—but are they really? the impact adds a new, chaotic element to your pleasure, making you moan louder.

“fuckkk,” toji tosses his head back, beads of sweat rolling down his temples and forehead as a familiar ache in his side grows from all the exertion. “i can’t hear ya, doll . . make some noise for me.”

ever the mind reader—the words were on the tip of your tongue before his comment. “k-keep going—wanna cum for you, toji, please!”

he lets out a snicker, using his free hand to gift your ass with an especially harsh smack. “not just yet, got that? you’ll cum when i say so, doll face.”

KAMO CHOSO # matches you

“h-harder, oh my—fuck.” choso’s voice cracks at the end of his sentence, eyebrows knitting together as tears gather at the corners of his eyes. he cradles you close to his body, hands splayed on your shoulder blades as he savors the feeling of your own wrapped around his neck.

“i didn’t know you’d like this,” you say, kissing away the tears from his eyes and brushing the stray hairs from his face.

“you’re always asking me to c-choke you,” choso grunts, eyes rolling back deliciously as his cock twitches inside you.

it was true. he’d finally gotten curious enough to ask you why you enjoyed having his hands wrapped around your neck during your sexual experiences together. he’d always been interested to learn more about your kinks and interests, regardless of whatever it was. sometimes it’s a hit or miss, but oftentimes . . he enjoys letting you take the lead and show him how you like it.

you’re seated on his lap, cock buried deep and somehow not soft despite his prior orgasms, many of which are leaking from your cunt onto his thighs. choso’s never been afraid to get messy, as evidenced by the dried spit covering the bite marks and hickeys all over your neck.

“you look perfect like this, cho,” you coo, words sounding extra honeyed to his oxygen deprived brain. “you’re sure this isn’t too tight?”

ever the masochist, he nods, tilting his head to the side and offering the tender skin of his jaw and neck for you to mark up. you accept choso’s invitation, hands loosening as you pepper kisses along his sweaty skin.

he smells like his nice, soft shampoo mixed with your perfume. you can feel his racing pulse beneath your lips, and he savors the way you smile against his skin before nipping at it.

“ah, baby,” choso moans, hair slipping into his face again, “need you to—need you to ride me.”

“anything for you,” is your loving reply, spoken into the softness of his cheek, which is flushed a dark red. you rock your hips against his, hands loosening again as you indulge in the delicious sensation of being full. because of your movements, more cum pools on his thighs, hot and sticky from being inside you for so long.

“i’m..” choso gulps, an uncontrollable whimper slipping from his throat to interrupt him. “‘m gonna cum—t-take all of it for me, please baby.”

“mhm,” you moan into his neck, the fresh bite marks sticky with spit as they press against your lips. “give it to me, cho. a-all of it . . everything.”

choso cums to your words. his cock spurts ribbons of white inside you, so deep you wonder how long it’ll take to pour out, and his head falls back, entirely spent. his breaths come in heaving puffs, face flushed and sticky with sweat, but he still manages to look at you.

exhausted, he pants, “you didn’t cum, did you?”

you shake your head with a small smile, fingers grazing over where you’d been gripping his neck. “‘s okay, you’re pretty tired. maybe later?”

deep inside, you hope choso will offer to get you off anyway. a lovesick, dazed grin spreads across his lips and he lightly nudges you backwards.

“come on, lay on your back for me.”

“why, cho? you’re exh—”

choso shushes you, pushing you back more insistently. “i want to make my pretty girl cum on my tongue. lay down, please?”

[eraserbread]

satoru gets nanami drunk after an especially long mission, and leaves u to deal with his neediness :(( poor baby

➽────────────────────────────────────❥

nanami comes back home and you're laying on your side in bed, asleep, but jolted awake at the sound of the distant front door. the nightstand clock tells you it's a few minutes to midnight, and nanami always clocked out at 6.

typically.

he doesn't hesitate finding his way to you, understanding that if you're not waiting up for him, you'd be asleep. and, he was right. except, you're sitting up, blinking sleep away when he pushes open the door.

you can tell he's not all there - it takes him a second to catch his footing and notice you watching him.

"you weren't waitin' for me." he's slurring his words ever so slightly, letting them melt into each other. "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing." you whisper, giving him your sweetest, softest tone. "come on and come to bed, baby." you nod him forward, not like he could see you well with the lights on. you really didn't want to get out of bed - already wrapped nicely in your sleep clothes and content where you are.

seems kento has other ideas. he flicks on the light and leaves you to bear the harshness. you cover a palm over your eyes, hissing under your breath.

"really?" you whine, rubbing the assault from your droopy lids as he walks to the bed.

"somethin' wrong?"

you bite your lip, wanting to tell him to fuck off but extremely wary. you don't think he's been in such a state in... years, now that you're thinking about it.

"you weren't there... so i gotta- i have to take this off all myself."

you squint trying to make out what he's saying, but he's trying to toe off his shoes, stumbling in the process but catching himself pretty quickly. tomorrow, you'd scold him to hell for tracking them into your bedroom. tonight, you don't care. you just want him next to you.

but, it is annoying being woken up and forced to watch kento try and take off his shoes. "just take your shoes off and come to bed."

"did i tell you, that soup you made last night... fantastic." he mutters lazily, slipping into bed with his shoes still on. if he was sober, he'd see your eye twitch manically. he's so fucking stubborn.

but, he's being sweet ...kinda? right now, so you swallow that irritation and lean into him. like always, you start at the button at his neck, flicking it loose and moving down to his tie. it's been loosened already, making it easier to pull and slide off. under your busy fingers, nanami lays back on his propped arm, eyes shut.

so spoiled...

"shoes, ken." you so helpfully, sweetly remind him. to no fucking avail. instead, he leans into your exposed collarbone and starts kissing you. it's a specific kiss - a kiss that means 'this won't end anytime soon'

though you roll your eyes, you let him. your body is so fucking used to this, now, that all it takes is his shaky hand on your thigh to get you going.

and, you're going. you crane your neck for him, swallowing down want as his clumsy lips take to you like a cat drinking milk. he's stuck there -- fixated and happy lapping little love marks into your skin with a hand fiddling at the crotch of his work pants. he's restrained by a belt, two buttons, and a zipper, and his drunken state couldn't fathom undoing it all.

the first moan you give him has him pulling away, blinking up at you with reddened eyes.

so, he looks at you and asks - no, tells you. "help?"

and you fold.

his shoes still on and all, you climb over his lap, scooting down just enough to tug and pull at his belt. you're sitting just under his beaming erection, giving it a little push when you pull open his zipper. under you, he's covering his red face with his hand, moaning from your touch and presence alone. it's obscene - uncharacteristic. you love it.

"so pretty... pretty n soft... pretty, too. can't look at you or I'll wet my pants."

"you're crazy," you mumble, pulling his arm from his face and bringing it to yours to slip his finger between your lips. he gets the hint, taking control of his arm as he strokes over your chin, letting your fingers work your silk shirt away around your back.

he's dragging across the jagged edge of your teeth, pressing into your canines just to feel a bit of pain. if he opened his eyes, he'd short circuit, luckily he opens them as soon as you're dropping your shirt. then, you're showing all of you to all of him, and he can't do anything else but slap another hand over his eyes, whining dejectedly and blushed to the core.

"kento, look at me," you deadpan, tired enough to just roll over and sleep, but intrigued enough to keep pushing him.

"so hot."

you claw at his thick hand, nearly begging for his eyes to take you hostage. "hey."

"please... suck it..." he mutters, then stuffs his teeth with his fist, seething out sharp breaths as your fingertips find his skin just over his waistband. the request takes you back.

"you stopped when we got married... always wanted to ask you why but... please..."

you don't speak, you can feel more wet words on his tongue that you know he wants to say.

"please, baby girl... please, doll... the second I wake up 'm gonna buy you that silver necklace with my initial you've been wantin'... or I've been wantin' for you. just kiss 'm, please. so good..."

you have no idea what's he's going on about, but you like the sound of it. you like the sound of your nicknames twirling off his smooth, drunken tongue. so, you lean down to kiss them away, tasting the tang of drink on his supple skin.

he kisses you back just as eagerly, groping your chest in his hand as if it'd bring him down to earth again.

"i stopped because i don't think i'm very good at it." you laugh, taking it upon yourself to sit up and tug his briefs down past his hips. he's a mess - work clothes falling off the bone and you all over his face. he tastes like your chapstick now, and you catch little kitten licks poking from his lips just to study it.

"just kiss him like you're kissin' me."

then, you grab the base of his flushed cock, and he arches his back, a dramatic, uneasy 'ah-' coming from his throat. that really takes you aback - you've never heard such a noise come from your insanely composed spouse.

"don't... give it pronouns, weirdo."

"well, 's not a she."

and for the first time ever, you find yourself pressing your palm to his lips to shut him up. then, kissing over your knuckles, you watch his striking hazel eyes shiver and fall shut. you're so fucking in love it's crazy.

then you give him what he wants.

even though it feels unfamiliar, you drop your head, fist working his happy, dripping erection into oblivion as he whines and cries for you. it's when your lips kiss over the head, focusing your tongue in the slight dip, he cums. all over your face.

you're definitely taken aback, letting him have his moment, but you're so flushed and kinda agitated, yet always in love with him. he's a shaking, crying mess -- actually, crying tears. it's absurd. you'd remember this moment long after you've died.

even covered in cum, he still pulls you back, attacking your lips in a hot kiss you're not prepared for. seems like that release has him coming back to himself, because the grip he has on the back of your neck is not nice. you wouldn't be surprised, and you wouldn't mind, if you saw a bruise there in the morning.

when he comes to his senses, he pins you down face first into the mattress, kissing all over your neck and back as he fucks you lazily. he's so slow, it's serene. you can feel every dip of his cock, every vein as it drags against your sensitive, spasming walls. you both are so wet, begging for more, begging for each other.

it's how he makes you cum for him, with his sloppy, lazy ass thrusts and the wet kisses he leaves on your stained skin. there's cum drenched in these bedsheets, and if you weren't so fucked out and tired, you'd kick him out and call him inconsiderate.

tonight, you don't care. you fall asleep tucked under your man, barely able to breathe, let alone move. he'd suffocate you, at this rate.

but,

you don't care...

read part 2? <3

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - the boy is mine

warnings ; this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall..

prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.

a/n ; i mean, this is absolute whore behavior on my end and i have no words. beware this is long AS A MOTHERFUCKER. and so much plot. enjoy. also this is college!jk and reader so WOO (also loosely based on the boy is mine - arianaaaa)

Some people were just meant to be in the background.

Or, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for quite some time now.

You were the kind of person who blended into the background, voice barely rising above a whisper when spoken to, presence often slipping unnoticed into corners of rooms. Some days were spent in Yonsei University’s prestigious library, buried in books, worlds that didn’t require attention, where the characters spoke louder than you dare would. It wasn’t that you minded, though—you were content to remain in the quiet… well, as long as your best friend, Seo-yeon, shone like a star in the midst of it all.

Nevertheless, there were times when her shine cast a shadow, and that light felt a little too harsh. You didn’t mind when Seo-yeon needed a shoulder to lean on, but lately it seemed like all she did was lean—never giving anything in return. And you tried to brush it off, scolding your brain it’s just the pressure of her rich father but deep down, you could not shake the feeling that Seo-yeon’s warmth was only reserved for someone else.

And that someone was your best friend since you were 10, Jeon Jungkook.

You get it. Who wouldn’t? Hottest guy at school, richest parents, biggest heart… and from the rumor mill, his heart wasn’t the only thing that’s big.

It’s always just been you and him. Jungkook and [Y/N], [Y/N] and Jungkook. Best friends since grade school, partners in crime on the playground. Really, they were setting you up for failure by having your best friend be someone who had a revolving door of women in his life. Even back in your young age, he somehow garnered more attention than an average adult. It was just who he was. You accepted that.

But then, somewhere along the timeline of convoluted wreckage your life, you two grew up. Grew closer, somehow. The lines of your life intertwined, never straying too far apart.

So, it was really no surprise to you when you woke up one day and realized you were madly, deeply, irrevocably, disgustingly, head over heels in love with him.

You had convinced yourself, over and over, that Jungkook knew. How could he not?

It was like this: you had seen a kiss in a television show when you were 11. Pondered what it felt like to do such a thing. It had been a fleeting moment, so innocent—just a brush of lips under the old oak tree in the park when you were 12, surrounded by the laughter of friends and the warmth of summer. But in that brief, stolen instant, something shifted inside you, a chemical reaction. The memory of that first kiss, so pure and untainted, lingered in the air, like a secret only you two shared.

You caught the glint in his eyes afterward, the way he looked at you as if seeing you for the first time, and ever since… well, ever since then, you’ve been his.

When Seo-yeon casually mentioned over drinks one night that Jungkook was sooooo cute and she was thinking of going for it, well, you should’ve been shocked, but how could you be?

She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to take it, even if it meant stepping on the quiet spaces you had carved out for yourself. It stung, of course, the idea that she could waltz in and claim something you had quietly held onto for years. But deep down, you knew the truth. You knew you would never go for it, not really—not with the unspoken barrier between you two, that kiss from ages ago still lingering in the air, in your blood.

And yet, Seo-yeon’s confidence in taking what she wanted, without hesitation or doubt, only reminded you of how much you were willing to give up, just to keep the peace. That’s who she was. And you? Well, you were the one who always let her take.

And all this to say, this is why you were standing with your spine pressed into the cold wall, eyes burning holes into Seo-yeon’s back, fingers digging into your red solo cup, heart thumping, as you watched her flirt with Jungkook.

It was supposed to be a fun night. Key word: supposed. Jungkook’s best friend, Jimin, had invited everyone to his house for a ‘get-together.’ You should’ve known when you got the invite it would be a party, another chance for you to be a wallflower.

And there you were, assuming your post, drinking whatever concoction Jimin’s roommate had created.

It was a tragedy.

The music swirled around you, yet you were caught in the gravity of Seo-yeon and Jungkook’s orbit. Every glance, every word that passed between them felt like a blade to your chest. Her laughter rang out, effortless and bright, and you watched as she leaned in closer to Jungkook, her fingers grazing his arm in a way that made the air between them shimmer with something unspoken. It was too much—too intimate, too easy.

You could feel the tension coiling inside you, a painful knot you didn’t know how to undo.

And before you do anything rash (or well, not that you will, but the thought of it) you hear a familiar voice that calms you down in the slightest.

“Boo.”

You instantly know it’s Taehyung, Jungkook’s other close friend who you’ve somehow managed to also become buddy-buddy with. You kinda had to, just to prove to Jungkook you can make other friends beside Seo-yeon. Tsk.

You lightly smile at him, but you refuse to take your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon, as if you turn away for a second, they may leave you in the dust.

“You know… You’ve been staring at them like you’re waiting for them to start a new Netflix series or something.” He whispers near your ear, as if it’s some massive secret that no one could possibly guess.

You blinked, startled, “I’m not staring,” you mumbled, but Taehyung only raised an eyebrow.

“Sure you’re not. You're practically giving them a live commentary in your head, huh?

You scoff. “I don’t care if they talk. Honestly, I want them to get together. I mean, why not? It’s what she wants.”

His elbow lightly digs into your side, making you slap him away with ease, “Oh, really? Is that what you want? You’re not fooling anyone. You’re practically trying to will them together while simultaneously wanting to rip your hair out.”

“Why would you think I don’t want them to get together?” You roll your eyes.

You know exactly why. And.. may also have to do with the fact that besides your diary, Seo-yeon and yourself, Taehyung also knows about your little infatuation (which, and you remind yourself, only happened because you got quite drunk with him at the bar and admitted it two months ago.)

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes his again. “You are the worst liar I know.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted.

He raises his arms up in defeat, “Fine, if lying is the route we’re taking, at least just tell Seo-Yeon to go home. Seriously, who even invited her?"

You finally remove your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon to face Taehyung, who definitely looks drunker than you thought he sounded. “I’m not doing that. And plus, she’s my best friend.”

He snorts, “Really? The same best friend who’s currently talking to the boy she knows you’re in love with?”

Taehyung continues, probably, and you can only assume, because he got you to tear your eyes away from them and their incessant giggles. Really, what is so damn funny? “You’re practically turning into an accessory to the decor. Please go take him away from her. He already adores you.”

Jungkook did adore you—there was no doubt about that. When you both got accepted into the same university, he immediately integrated you into every friend group, every hangout.

But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

The temptation to rip Seo-yeon away, to somehow be the one he turned to, was enough as it is—but the fear of being seen, of finally stepping off the wall and making yourself known, kept you frozen.

Taehyung threw his hands up in mock defeat, still grinning. "Alright, alright, I give up. Do whatever you want, missy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You looked up at him, frowning, swirling your drink that’s been boiled down to just ice. “Warn me about what?”

“Don’t let this be one of those things you look back on and regret, thinking you should've acted before it was too late.”

You knew Taehyung was right, though admitting it felt like admitting defeat. You thought back to those moments with Jungkook—the way his high fives always lasted a beat longer than they should, or how his fingers would brush against your shoulder in the most casual way, as if it wasn’t just a touch, but something that had meaning beneath it. There were those quiet moments, too, when his gaze would linger, his eyes soft and unreadable, as though he was on the edge of something he couldn't quite grasp.

Deep down, there was that small, quiet part of you that wondered if he ever felt the same—if he ever wondered, like you did, whether you two could be more than just friends.

"Wow, when did you get so deep? You sound like one of those motivational speakers who talks about following your dreams and embracing the moment,” It’s your turn to roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He shot you a knowing look. "Hey, I’m just trying to save you from becoming the wise old lady at the bar telling stories about how you ‘almost’ told Jungkook you liked him when you were young and full of hope."

“Well, thank you for the life lesson.” You looked down at your cup, a heinous purple color now that the ice has completely melted. “I’ll stick to my alcohol for now.”

And he saunters off, weaseling his way through the hoard of people to bully his next victim, you suppose. You were a little tipsy, you won’t lie. With a sigh, you turned your head back to Seo-yeon and Jungkook.

…Where the fuck are they?

Now, it’s time to panic.

You pushed through a few random guys and girls, silently saying excuse me basically to no one but yourself. Vision gets hazy, but you can’t tell if it’s tears or the punch.

Heart flutters, skips a beat. There he is, pouring himself a cup at the drink table that’s been set up in the dining room. No Seo-yeon in sight. You assume you have 5 seconds before she comes back from wherever she is to trap him once more.

You waltzed up to the drink table, trying to act casual, but your heart skipped when you saw Jungkook standing there, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on in your head. He waved you over with that signature carefree smile, his bunny teeth poking out. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up. Were you hiding from me or just avoiding everyone?”

You blinked, hands suddenly unsure of where to go as you fiddled with your cup. “I wasn’t hiding! Just… you know, blending in with the background. Like I do.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into something a little more teasing. “Blending in? You? You’re like, the least subtle person here. You stand out more than the punch bowl.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You joked as you lean over him to pour yourself another cup of punch.

He laughed, leaning closer like he was about to share a secret. “Okay, but seriously, where have you been? Where’s your head at? I know, I know I said get-together… but it’s definitely a party.”

“Tsk, tsk. You little player,” You sipped your drink, looking up into his doe eyes. God, he’s just so…

Your curiosity got the better of you. “So, uh... what’s the deal with Seo-yeon? You two talking about something important, or is she just... I don’t know, using you for your impeccable taste in drinks?” The jealousy tugging at your chest made it harder than you expected to sound casual.

A small chuckle escaped him. “Seo-yeon? Nah, she’s just, uh, talking my ear off about some random stuff. Nothing exciting.” He shrugged like it was nothing, his tone so nonchalant it almost made you second-guess why it bothered you. “Honestly, I don’t even know half of what she’s saying. I’m just nodding and pretending to be interested.”

You blinked, surprised that anyone could be bored at anything she had to say. “Wait, really? You’re just... pretending?”

“Yep,” Jungkook grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years. Maybe you should teach me how to do it with more people, though. I’m still not great at pretending to listen to people who don’t bring snacks.”

You laughed, a bit of the tension in your chest easing. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re way too nice to actually ignore people."

He shrugged his broad shoulders, something you’ve come to notice as he’s grown older. “Possibly, but-“

Your breath hitched when Seo-yeon reappeared, her presence as loud and effortless as a storm breaking the quiet. With a smile that was all too practiced, she glided over, her eyes immediately locking with Jungkook’s, as if the space between them had always been empty, waiting for her to fill it. “Hey, Jungkook,” she purred, her fingers brushing against his arm as she leaned in a little too close, a familiar, flirtatious glint dancing in her eyes. “Still owe me that drink, remember?”

Jungkook’s smile widened, completely unfazed by her proximity. His fingers wrapped around the cup and handed it to her, their hands brushing lightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft, full of that gentle affection that made you want to stick a fork in your eye.

You felt the familiar nerves rise in your chest, the uncertainty pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The scene before you felt too much, too close, and you found yourself backing away instinctively, your eyes flickering toward the exit. You just needed to escape, even for a second. But before you could take another step, Jungkook’s voice cut through the hum of the room, warm and easy. “Hey, do you wanna go play darts? Jimin has not shut up about it and I want to test out my skills.”

And he does it again. Digs you deeper and deeper into that dream of yours.

You took another sip out of your cup, locking eyes with Seo-yeon, who, for once in her life, looked nervous. See, if you weren’t 3 drinks deep, and you weren’t so desperate to remove her away from him, you would’ve went back to your post on the wall.

But Taehyung’s words linger in your brain like a broken record.

“You know, actually, I need to steal Seo-yeon away for a quick minute,” You reach out, grip onto her arm like it’s your lifeline. You’re almost certain you draw your fingernails in a little too deep to her skin.

“Huh?” Her eyes widened, blinking a few times.

You dragged her through the crowd, pulling her to the opposite side of the room with a swiftness that leaves Jungkook utterly baffled. He has stopped questioning yours and Seo-yeon’s friendship.

Your nerves buzzed with the alcohol in your system, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. "Why are you flirting with Jungkook?"

There it was, out in the open. Lingering in the air like a cloud of smoke.

Seo-yeon blinked in surprise, her eyebrows rising as if you had just grown another head. “What are you talking about?” she replied with that same airy sweetness, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” You scoffed, feeling the alcohol’s warmth pushing your boldness forward. “It’s like you’re auditioning for a role in Jungkook’s life or something. You're so obvious.”

Seo-yeon laughed, a soft, dismissive sound. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, [Y/N]. Wow, look at you. Finally standing up for yourself. Guess it only took a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

She tilted her head, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

All you see is red, and you’re kinda imagining what her head would look like ripped out of its socket.

She keeps pushing, keeps pressure testing, keeps dragging the knife through you. “Whatever. If you want to make this a thing, go ahead. But don’t act like I’ve been the one playing games.”

“You know what?” It’s a rhetorical question, turning back to you with a slight tilt of her head. “If you’re not going to make a move, I’m all in on Jungkook. You’ve had your chance. It’s not my fault you can’t get out of your own head.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and something in you snaps. The rage bubbled up from deep inside you—something you’d never shown Seo-yeon before. She wasn’t allowed to take this from you too.

"Is that it, then?" You shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You think you can just take everything from me because I'm not bold enough for you? You think you can just waltz in and claim him like he's some kind of prize because you know I won’t fight you for him? That’s not how this works, Seo-yeon."

Seo-yeon opened her mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished. “No. I’m done letting you walk all over me. I care, Seo-Yeon. I care about him."

And now you can’t stop it, this word vomit that has plagued you, it keeps tumbling out, slurred but filled with an undeniable intensity. You didn’t care anymore; the alcohol had loosened every restraint, every last thread of caution. "You’ve known. You’ve known I loved him this whole damn time. You’ve always known, and you’ve always taken from me—always—like you could just have whatever you wanted. I’m done pretending I’m okay with it.”

The silence between you two felt like a storm was brewing, the air thick with tension, and you, a tad too drunk to fully grasp what you were saying, but not so drunk that you didn’t know it was the truth.

Seo-yeon’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes flicking to the side before meeting yours again. "Well, you know what they say…the best girl always wins, right?"

You’ve already ruined the friendship, put the nail in the coffin and sent her floating down the river. You gripped your red solo cup so roughly you think it might break, “You think you're the best girl? Maybe it's time someone showed you that I’m done being second place. I’m done being the girl who just watches. I’m going to fight for him. You’ve had your turn, Seo-yeon.”

Seo-yeon’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she quickly regained her composure, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You’re going to fight for him now? How cute.”

Your jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “Yeah. I am.”

And, you are certain if only Taehyung could hear you now, he would throw another party just for you having this conversation. You storm away, leave her in the dust to settle on its own. A part of your resolve breaks a little realizing that your own college best friend since day one of freshman year, was not the person you thought she was. But, that’s not what really matters to you.

The night dragged on, clusters of people fading in and out of the party. You don’t necessarily pay attention, you’re too busy feeling like a World War III hero after your triumph. You laughed with Taehyung in the corner, even flirted with a few people. Anything to take your mind off Seo-yeon desperately throwing herself at Jungkook, but you knew better than to look.

The lights felt dimmer, the music quieter. Jimin, ever the instigator, stood up with a grin that spread across his face like a mischievous secret. "Alright," he said, his voice warm but teasing as he looked around at the gathered circle of about 20 leftover wranglers. "Truth or dare, anyone?"

You broke your conversation with Taehyung, hesitated for a brief moment, heart thudding louder than the music. Normally, you would’ve stayed out of it—content to sit on the edge and observe. But tonight, something inside you whispered that this was the moment to stop being the quiet one.

A laugh rang out from someone in the group. “Really, Jimin? Truth or dare? We’re in our twenties, not twelve.”

Jimin just shrugged, unfazed, the playful gleam in his eyes still dancing. “Don’t care. It’s fun.” As if daring was the only thing that could make the night memorable.

As the silly little game began, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seo-yeon scrambled to sit next to Jungkook, her movements almost too eager, too forced. She slid onto the floor beside him, laughing a little too loudly, her hand brushing his casually, but it didn’t escape your notice.

It didn’t help that Jungkook, who had been laughing and talking with the others, now seemed to catch sight of the silence that stretched between you and your friend. His gaze flickered toward you for a split second, brow furrowed slightly. There was concern in his eyes, like he could sense the shift, the distance between you two, the fact that you hadn’t exchanged a word since the heated conversation. And for a moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... worried. It was only a glance, but it sent a ripple of uncertainty through you.

The game kicked off with such chaotic energy that there was immediate regret of your decision to join, Shirts came off, beers chugged, some over-the-clothes fondling. Laughter and teasing echoed around the room, but you couldn’t seem to join in. Your nerves twisted inside you, coiling tighter with every round. Every time your eyes flicked toward Jungkook, your heart skipped, and you could feel your emotions swirling—confusion, desire, hurt—but the fear of being exposed kept you frozen.

Seo-yeon, on the other hand, was all confidence, sitting smugly in her chair with a knowing smile, like she already knew she’d be the center of attention. Like she knew, deep down, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

Then, Jimin’s voice broke through your fog of thoughts, full of mischief and a glint of amusement. "Alright," he said, eyes dancing as he turned toward Seo-yeon and Jungkook. "I dare you two to kiss for five seconds."

You may as well have just shot yourself right in the face. Your breath caught in your throat. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you watched your (ex) best friend’s eyes light up with the thrill of the challenge. It was as if it was too easy for her—too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Without hesitation, she leaned toward Jungkook, her lips finding his almost effortlessly. The room seemed to quiet for a moment, and then it was the silence that felt louder than anything.

But what made your stomach twist wasn’t just the kiss itself—it was the way Seo-yeon’s gaze flicked toward you just before their lips met. A slow, deliberate look that lingered in the air. The seconds stretched, and you could barely breathe, and your heart was feeling as if it might break right then and there.

The kiss was over before you could even process the feeling of it, but the knot in you chest remained, heavy and tight, long after Seo-yeon pulled away. Jungkook glanced over at you, so briefly you almost didn’t catch it.

Your mind raced, but you struggled to push the images from her head, the lingering feeling of Seo-yeon’s smug gaze before the kiss. You took another sip, the burn of it helping to cloud the pain you didn’t want to face. The weight of it sat like a stone in your chest.

Taehyung’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. “[Y/N], truth or dare?” he asked, his grin teasing as he leaned towards you.

Jimin shot him a playful glare, almost about to protest, but Taehyung was quick, silencing him with a dramatic “Shh.” The room quieted slightly, all eyes on you as you hesitated for a fraction of a second. You were still reeling, but the alcohol buzz had emboldened you—made you feel more confident than you had all night.

"Dare.” You didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from, but you couldn’t back down now.

Taehyung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Alright then,” he said, tapping his fingers against his drink. “I dare you to go into the closet with Jungkook for five minutes.”

The room went quiet for a moment. You felt the weight of the dare pressing in on your chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Jungkook’s pointed gaze. Was this a joke? Was it real? Seo-yeon was first to break the ice, who snorted in disbelief. “Are we in fifth grade or something?”

Jungkook, who had been sitting quietly, his drink in hand, suddenly took a casual sip. To your surprise, he looked completely unfazed, almost... eager? “Who cares?” he said with a shrug, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a harmless, impulsive decision.

You froze for a moment. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. But there was not much protesting to be done because before you had a chance to speak, Taehyung is up on his feet pushing the two of you in the direction of the musty little closet.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the world outside the closet faded into nothing. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words, the kind of tension that clung to the walls like the silence between them. You stood frozen, the room suddenly too small, too close. You could feel the heat of his presence even without touching him, the rhythm of his breath matching your own, as if your hearts beat in sync, caught in the same web of uncertainty. The dim light from the party barely reached, leaving you in a space of shadows and soft, anxious breaths.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of you spoke. The awkwardness hummed between you like a steady pulse, the weight of it heavy. You’ve known him forever but… you could feel your nerves twisting tighter and tighter, but the alcohol buzz made it hard to think clearly, each thought slipping away just as quickly as it came.

Jungkook finally broke the silence, a nervous chuckle escaping him, his top teeth playing with his lip ring. "This is… um, definitely not how I expected this to go.”

You tried to force a laugh, but it came out shaky, and you immediately regretted it. “Yeah, not exactly the closet of my dreams,” you said, though your voice trembled in a way you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

And then, just like that, Jungkook’s gaze met yours again, but this time, there was something different in his eyes—something softer, more vulnerable. It was like someone ripped your best friend away from you and replaced with someone who might actually.. never mind. He was pressed into you, your height difference showing as his head tilted down to look at you. His lips parted, like he was debating saying something.

Then, with a surprising gentleness, he spoke. “This is going to be so random but… do you remember our kiss?” he asked, his voice low and almost reverent, as if the question itself carried a weight he wasn’t sure how to handle.

You froze. The memories came rushing back, unbidden—a flash of two twelve-year-olds, awkward and innocent, caught in a moment that now seemed so impossibly far away. The brush of lips, quick and uncertain, a first kiss that neither of you truly understood.

But the way he looked at you now, like the past and present were colliding in that quiet, intimate space, made everything feel much more real. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, pulse quickening. He remembers.

“O-Of course I remember,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, your heart fluttering in your chest as the memory of that kiss resurfaced in vivid detail.

Jungkook held your gaze, his eyes dark, searching, as if he, too, was standing on the precipice of something he wasn’t sure he could face. There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched between, thick with everything unsaid. And then, almost in a breath, he spoke again, his voice softer, but his words filled with an unexpected weight. “My mom brought it up the other day. Didn’t know she watched my kissing virginity get swept away.”

“Oh,” you laugh.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. The words hung in the air like a fragile thread.

The confession hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and sharp. He’s thought about it? Like the way you have, maybe, possibly? Like writing in your diary about him everyday since then? Like dreaming about kissing him again every time you are even remotely close to him?

“So…” he started, breaking the silence, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity. “The last time you kissed someone... was it anything like that?"

There’s those stupid two bunny teeth that poke out in a cheeky smile as he teased you about something that should be so trivial, yet so was not.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question. You didn’t know whether to laugh or squirm. You could feel the warmth creep into your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the clutter in the corner of the closet to avoid meeting his gaze.

“I… What?” You stammered, a little too flustered. "What kind of question is that?"

Jungkook chuckled softly, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes never leaving your face. "Well, I’m just curious. You know, if it was anything like the kiss we shared all those years ago," he teased, his voice deliberately casual.

You rolled her eyes, trying to deflect the attention. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I haven’t kissed anyone in forever. In fact…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence without sounding ridiculous. “You know that. Last time was that random dude at that party last month.”

Jungkook’s smile returned, but it was gentler now, as if he was trying to make you feel better. “So.. What was the last kiss that actually meant something?” he asked, leaning in just slightly, the playful glint back in his eyes.

You knew damn well you couldn’t answer that without revealing too much. The truth was, there hadn’t been a kiss that meant anything—not since you were 12. But you couldn’t say that to him. Not yet.

“Long, long time,” You teased.

For a moment, you swear there’s a glimmer of hope behind his welcoming eyes.

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right guy,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you try to joke your way out of it.

Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Must be hard to find someone who’s good enough to even compare to the 'best kiss ever' from when you were twelve.”

You froze, heart thudding in your chest as you realized what the weight of what he'd said. "Damn, you really remember that kiss, huh?"

Jungkook just smirked, his eyes glimmering. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

And, there’s something that switches in the air, something that makes you realize you’re not as delusional as you think. You’re thinking back to every single time he’s given you that hope to hold onto, every time he has kept the dream alive. You met his eyes, looked into them, felt like you were peering into his soul.

He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, a sudden seriousness in his tone. “And now… I kind of wish I could kiss you again. See if it feels the same.”

Either you are incredibly drunk, or he has lost his mind. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of alcohol and overwhelming emotions. You blinked, breath caught in your throat, trying to process the weight of his words. He wanted to kiss you again? You could feel the tension between them now, thick and suffocating, like the very air around them was holding its breath. But what was this? What was happening?

Your voice came out shaky, betraying the fear that had lodged itself in your chest. “Where is this coming from, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s expression faltered for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so open, so raw. He took a step closer, his gaze softening, searching yours with an intensity that made your knees feel like jell-o. His voice was quieter now, more sincere, as if trying to reassure you, or maybe even himself. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.. I mean we’ve been best friends for years.”

“I-I, maybe, who cares?” You repeated his words from earlier. “You’re drunk, Kook. We’ve been drinking for hours.”

“I’m not joking,” he said softly, his voice low and full of something you couldn’t quite name. "I wouldn’t joke about something like that."

Your breath hitched as he reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours, as if waiting for you to decide. You could feel the pulse of his touch, and with it, all the years of longing, all the secret emotions you’d kept hidden, pressing down on your chest.

It was almost too much. Too much to process, too much to understand. But the truth was clear now, sitting heavy in the silence between you. You were in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.

Just as the words hung in the air, just as you could’ve sworn that he was about to lean in and finally press his lips against yours, thick with longing and uncertainty, the quiet, intimate space you’d created shattered in an instant. The closet door suddenly flung open with a loud crash, and for a heartbeat, your world spun.

The sudden burst of light flooded the small room, blinding you for a second before you recognized the faces of your friends, all grinning mischievously. Taehyung, ever the troublemaker, leaned against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face. Jimin, with his usual playful grin, stood next to him, his eyes glinting with amusement. And then there was Seo-yeon, leaning casually against the wall, her lips curled in a knowing smile.

You quickly stepped back, face burning as your eyes flicked between them all, still trying to process what had just happened. Jungkook stood frozen beside you, face flushed as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, well,” Taehyung said with a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that. The closet was really the place to be, huh?”

“Didn’t take you two long,” Jimin added with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew this was going to be good.”

You felt the blood rush to your face, and you could barely look at Jungkook. Your heart was still hammering, a mixture of humiliation and confusion swirling in your chest. You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words caught in your throat.

Jungkook cleared his throat, taking a small step forward. “It’s not like that. We were just talking.”

“Oh, talking, huh?” Taehyung grinned wider, obviously not buying it.

Your head was spinning. The echoes of the teasing, the laughter, and the flirtation were still reverberating in your mind. You could feel the alcohol mixing with the tension that had built up all night, and it was almost too much to handle. Your thoughts were a jumble—your best friend, Jungkook, the kiss that almost happened, everything was falling apart in a whirlwind of emotions.

The game seemed to fizzle out after a few more rounds, yet you were still sat there, hoping to make sense of it all. The clock slowly ticked by, bodies still trickling in and out of the house despite how late it was. And you probably should’ve made an effort to take to Jungkook, to fight for him, to stand up on your words to Seo-yeon.

And so there you stood, attached to the wall yet again.

Except this time, Jungkook was peeling you off of it. He had enough juice at this point to know better, to care less if he made a fool of himself.

He made his way toward you, his expression tight with something unreadable. “Can we talk?” he asked urgently. You opened her mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he was already guiding you through the crowd, clutching your hand in his.

As you walked up the stairs, you looked down at the people left over from the night, and you caught a second of a glance from Seo-yeon. Maybe, just maybe, you were going to win this once and for all.

The loud music and chatter from downstairs faded as you made your way up to the quiet of the second floor. When you reached an empty bedroom, he closed the door behind you softly. You both stood there for a moment, a beat of silence hanging between you, thick with anticipation. You twiddled with your thumbs, setting your cup down.

Jungkook turned to face you, his expression full of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness, uncertainty, and longing. He took a step forward, his breath shaky. "[Y/N].. Am I crazy?”

“What do you mean?” You gulped, pressing your back into the nearby bedside table.

“Is there something here I’m missing with us, are we good? Like, I haven’t spoken to you all night, Seo-yeon is shoving herself down my throat, and you know I hate her. And then… that stupid fucking closet has my head spinning. So, talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening—couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud.

Without thinking, you whispered, almost inaudibly, "You don’t know?"

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, and he took another small step closer, “What?”

Your heart pounded harder now, hands trembling slightly at your sides. You took a breath, then let it out slowly. Your voice was barely a whisper, but the words felt like they had been stuck in your throat for years. “You had to have known I’ve been in love with you.”

There it was. Out in the open, hanging, lingering. The words dissipated into the air. You started to wonder what magic potion was in this drink that had you ending many friendship tonight.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening. He stared at you for a long moment, disbelief flooding his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. If I had known...”

“If I knew…” he began again, his voice strained, almost as if he were fighting to keep his composure. His gaze never wavered from yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes.

“I would have...” He swallowed hard, stepping closer to you until he was only inches away, his breath warm against your skin. “... I would have kissed you. A long time ago.”

You felt your chest tighten, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. You could feel the electric pull between you, every inch of your body screaming to close the distance. But you didn’t move. Neither of you did. The air was thick, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, with everything that had been building between you, allegedly, for years.

Jungkook’s hand twitched at his side, as if he were fighting himself, unsure of whether to make the move or not. His gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, a tortured look on his face. “Was it not obvious when I let you kiss me when we were 12?” he whispered, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

Everything inside you screamed for him to close the distance, for him to finally kiss you when you were older. But the fear, the uncertainty, still lingered. “Jungkook...” you whispered, voice trembling.

Somehow, he always knew just what you wanted to say.

“I know,” he said softly, his face just inches from yours now. "I know."

“It wasn’t obvious, you know,” You began. The fire from earlier that raged when you snapped on Seo-yeon began to reignite, to push itself to the forefront and grow as bright and red as could be. How could he expect you to know? He had dated so many girls, so many people that weren’t you, that you had just started to normalize the fade you did into the background. It was insulting for him to think otherwise. “You dated like 10 girls after that kiss when we were younger.”

“You dated someone too,” He pointed out. True, but.. you only did it because he did. Which is surprising to no one.

“Yeah, but I was always there. I was always by your side, every breakup, every tear shed, hoping and praying you’d finally pick me. But there’s not a good way to say, hey I know we’ve been best friends for years but I’m in love with you. I didn’t, I don’t want to lose you,” You wanted to break his eye contact, look away and start crying into your shirt. But you didn’t. You held your ground.

His face softened, another cautious step taken towards you. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He’s so close now you can feel the nerves, the heat radiating off his body. You can smell that stupid cologne he got last Christmas from his parents. You can see his silver chain glisten under the light bedroom lamp. “Well, if you don’t feel the exact same, then yeah, I will lose you. And for the record, Seo-yeon knows I’ve been in love with you. God, she is such a little bitch. You know I finally ended it with her tonight. She’s insane. But whatever, my point is that if you’re not also in love with me, I’m done, I’m going to move to the US and become a monk. This is humiliating-“

You nor him got to hear the ending of that sentence, because before you know it, his warm hands are cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him, and he’s kissing you. It feels like this: you’re 12 again, under that white oak tree on the playground, your mothers watching a few feet away with a knowing smile on their face. Your heart quickens up its pace, tries to catch up to what is happening. But there’s no use. You’re a goner.

The moment Jungkook’s lips met yours, the world seemed to fall away. There was no party inside, no city stretching beyond the university—just him. Just this.

His kiss was slow at first, testing, as if savoring the feeling of finally closing the space that had been pulling you together for so long. His fingers, warm against your cool skin, tilted your face up to him, deepening the kiss in a way that made your breath catch.

You responded instinctively, pressing closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor. The tension, the longing that had built between you for months—maybe even years—unraveled all at once, spilling into the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for too long.

You had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him when you were older (especially after he got that stupid little lip ring that had you using your vibrator more often than you liked to admit.)

Jungkook exhaled against your lips, his hand sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his thumb brushed circles against your skin—it all left you dizzy.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each passing second making it harder to think, to focus on anything but the way his lips moved against yours. He tasted faintly of liquor, of something intoxicating yet familiar, something that made you want to drown in him completely.

“I shouldn’t have waited this long," he murmured, his voice rough, almost regretful. “It’s better than it was when we were 12.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your hands still fisting his shirt. "Then don’t wait anymore."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he leaned in again, this time softer, slower, as if committing every second to memory. His lips brushed yours once, twice—just enough to make your knees weak—before he kissed you fully again. His tongue poked through, and a soft whimper left your mouth at the contact.

Jungkook’s second kiss was different—deeper, more certain. The hesitation that had lingered before was gone, replaced by something more urgent, more consuming. His fingers tightened at your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips parting against yours, letting the kiss deepen in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

You met him eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. He groaned softly against your mouth, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. His tongue brushed against yours, slow at first, coaxing, teasing, before he pressed in more insistently, his hand cradling your jaw as if he couldn’t bear to let go, moving down to wrap a gentle hand around your neck.

Your breath hitched as his grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he held you firm to the bedside table.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, but his hands never left your body, his fingers skimming the curve of your waist, the warmth of his palms making your skin tingle.

You shook your head, breathless. "I don’t want you to."

That was all he needed.

In one swift motion, his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you with ease. A surprised gasp left your lips, but you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried you across the room. His lips never left yours, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as if making up for lost time.

He reached the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress without breaking contact. His body hovered over yours, propped up on his forearms, his dark eyes searching yours as he caught his breath.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, his voice husky, edged with impatience.

You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair, your own breath coming just as fast. "Then why did we wait?"

Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Because I knew, once I had you like this… I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it."

His words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again—slower this time, savoring every second. His hands traced gentle patterns against your skin, grounding you, making you feel every ounce of emotion behind his touch.

His fingers moved deftly, swiftly, but there’s a bit of anxiety behind his touch. He kissed down your neck, slowly, agonizingly, to your collarbone… pushing aside your shirt to your shoulder. His knee dug into your thigh, and felt fuzzy from how much he was touching you, everywhere. You let out small whimpers, eager for him to continue, to know what it feels like to be one of his girls.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with something you don’t recognize from him. If he wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve been scared. His fingers ghosted down your chest, to your stomach, playing with the hem of your shirt, almost asking for permission. He doesn’t have to, because you’re propping yourself up and taking it off for him, just leaving your bra out on display. He pauses, takes a moment for himself, realizes he isn’t in a dream when he reaches out and touches one of your tits. It’s like he’s a prepubescent little boy again who has never seen these before.

“God, you’re perfect,” He mumbled, voice shaky, feeling you through your bra. He moved the bra aside a little, sees the hard nipple poking through and removes your entire bra, one hand. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen underneath and that tattoo sleeve he started working on two years ago.

You don’t know when you became such a withering mess underneath his touch but you’re glued down to the bed, imprinted on the mattress. Jimin will have to come peel you off tomorrow morning. “Touch me again,” you whispered out, low enough for him to hear and for his cock to twitch in his pants.

He looked back up at you, taking his attention away from your chest. There was a shift, a change of massive proportions in the air. You know he’s experienced. Everyone knows it. He’s had countless girlfriends, hookups with other friends… you’ve heard the rumors spread like wildfire.

When he speaks, his voice sounds almost pensive. “Has anybody ever made you come?”

The sound you make is much too close to a whimper for your own comfort. Involuntarily, you feel a flutter down there, and you realize faintly just how wet you really are, all of some stupid kisses.

You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s noticed your reaction.

“I- uh,” You’re utterly and totally speechless. The answer is no. None of your boyfriends ever figured it out truly. It’s not like they were studs in the bedroom. So, you would fake it, kiss them goodnight, and go finger yourself in the bathroom to get off. You somehow have a very strong intuition you won’t need to do that with Jungkook. “No, not really.”

His gaze becomes darker, pauses and thinks of his next move. He pushed you back onto the mattress, making room for himself to painstakingly slow move in between your legs. Jungkook lifts your skirt up, revealing your lacy pink panties that have a wet spot engrained right in the middle. “Fucking hell, you’re soaked,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

He looked back up at you. “Do you want me to make you come?”

He can’t be serious. The blood rushed from your face down to your toes.

“P-please,” You whimpered, tugging your bottom lip underneath your top lip. “Please, Kook.”

“I can’t believe no one’s ever appreciated this pussy,” You can’t tell if he’s speaking mostly to himself as he took off your skirt fully, letting it fall on the floor with a soft thump. “You are so beautiful, [Y/N]. I’ve been dreaming about this for months, years.”

You just nod in response, since that’s all you can muster as he drags the pink underwear off your thighs, down your ankles, off your being. You want him to make you come, want him to be the reason you feel immense pleasure.

He’s still babbling to himself, something about how he’s going to wreck you tonight and all that, and then you feel his tongue flatten out on you, making a circular motion on your clit. Your pornographic moan could probably be heard across the entire campus. Your whole body jolts alive, eyes squeezed so, so tight as he worked his tongue repeatedly over your clit, lapping up every ounce of your wetness he can.

Your hand reaches out to grasp at something, anything, clutching his hair and holding his head as his tongue rolls around in between your clit and your entrance. His nose bumped against your clit as your hips began to rock up and down, your body aching for more, anything he could provide you would take it.

“Jungkook,” You breathed out, followed by a string of profanities and moans. He seemed to be pleased by your reaction, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your legs around his head, practically suffocating himself with you.

“F-fuck, how are y-you so good at this?” Your back arched off the mattresss, vision blurry as he continued his assault on your clit. He was so lost in it, so deep in it, he could barely respond.

He pulled away for a second, looking up at you with his big eyes, lips glossy and covered in your slick. You watched as he gathered some saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto your clit and letting his fingers rub your bundle of nerves. “Oh my god,” That elicited another expressive string of words, your chest heaving as you teetered closer and closer to that edge.

You still couldn’t believe this was happening; your best friend of over a decade, eating you out like you were a five-course meal.

He enveloped his lips around your delicate bud and pulled, and you can hardly contain yourself, fingers darting to his locks, the sheets, your abdomen. You can't sit still, can't halt the convulsions, losing all sense of self over your own body. Every which way, on him and off him, thoughts in turmoil and emotions in chaos and sensations askew, and you can't fathom how nobody's ever subjected you to this before, and how have you managed to live without the sensation of Jungkook's lips on your pussy.

His fingers replaced his mouth again, this time, splitting you open with two fingers that glide right in with how overly soaked you are. “Gonna make you cum so good, princess,” He said. “Gonna make you forget any of those lames before me.”

He has to realize that won’t take much convincing. You’ve already forgotten what any other man looks like.

As his lips reconnected with your burning core, all inhibitions vanish. He darted his tongue in and out, in and out, in and… your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your legs straining to offer him greater access, even to the point of discomfort when your muscles protest, but you crave him closer, deeper, harder, and you're drowning in longing, aching with it. The only anchors keeping you grounded are his hands, the one hand that has wandered from your clit to fondle your tit, the other that is now relentlessly pumping in and out of you.

He's cautious, nearly tender, but it's futile, you're soaked, allowing him continuous entry of his fingers without any struggle, devoid of any tension in your muscles. You're incapable of tightening up even if you wanted to.

“I-I, fuck, Kook, I’m gonna cum,” You whined out in a tone that was half begging, half delirium. You weren’t even sure your body was in control of itself anymore, you just wriggled and thrashed around as he worked you to finish.

“Yeah?” He said against your clit, his breath fanning against you. His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand rubbing incessantly circles on your clit. It was all too much, far, far, too much. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me. Want to taste you, taste what I’ve been missing all these years.”

It engulfed you completely, resonating within your core, your toes, and your fingertips. It propels you off the bed, leaning forward, fingers clutching his hair, legs quivering uncontrollably, screaming his name over and over like a prayer.

It seemed to go on for hours, his fingers penetrating you through it, his tongue caressing you through it, and all thoughts dissipate under the onslaught of that blinding, electrifying pleasure.

Jungkook persisted, relentless, until you thrusted his head away with vigor, overwhelmed by the sensation to the point of pain erupting like tiny needles. You have absolutely no idea how any girl ever let him get away, but you make a mental note that he will never leave your sight. He leaned over you, hovering over your shaking body.

His head bowed down, pressing a kiss on your lips, and you taste yourself for the first time. It’s a mix of him and you, salty and sweet and warm and dirty. You want it, again and again and again..

But you want him to feel good too. Want to do right by him, make him yours officially, have him scream out your name. You pulled away from his kiss, wiggling yourself out from under him. With a surprising amount of strength you mustered, you flipped the two of you; you’re straddling him, thighs locked on either side of his toned abs. His eyebrows raised, lips still slick and swollen with your juices and saliva and you’re pretty certain you’ll have a stroke if you keep looking at him.

You’re still dripping onto his bare chest, abs now covered in you as well. Probably the second hottest thing you’ve seen so far. You leaned down, kissing him, fighting for some sort of reprieve. You kissed down his jaw, his neck, and his little whimpers send you to a different planet.

He’s just so vocal, and now you can’t get enough.

“Let me ride you,” You said.

He blinked. Was he hearing that right?

“Please,” You pleaded. “I just… I want to make you feel good, Kookie. Like you did for me. Wanna make you happy.”

He smirked, rubbing his warm hands against your thighs, “I’m already happy just like this.” And he’s right, his cock is rock-hard and honestly, he hasn’t ever been like this before with any of his past girls. It’s because it’s you, the girl he called his best friend who used to be the quiet, shy one, is asking him to let her ride his cock.

“Pleaseeee..” You moaned, shuffling your body downwards so your clit was directly above his Calvin Klein boxers, grinding on him slowly like this was a middle school party. You didn’t even know when he had taken off his jeans from earlier, you assumed it was during the time his face was buried in your cunt.

He played around with his lip ring, his nervous tic. “Fuck, yeah, baby just go for it. Show me how you ride your best friend.”

You pulled back to finally get rid of his boxers, to finally see what’s underneath, if the rumors rang rang true. You looked down at his cock, splayed across his lower abdomen, open your mouth to speak and… pause.

“Jungkook,” you began, eyes widened, half horror and half excitement, “I-you’re so… big.”

And the moment you’ve said the words, you regret them. His ego was about to inflate to the size of Jimin’s entire house. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips, “Yeah? You gonna take it, baby?”

The pet name made you shudder. “I-I can try,” You stuttered. “I’ve never been with someone this big before.”

He chuckled, his hands coming around to rest on your hips, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumb. You knew damn well he knew how many guys you’ve been with, how many people you’ve fucked, but never their dick size. Didn’t really come up. But, this… well, this was going to be a challenge.

“It’s okay, baby,” He coaxed, “How about you be a good girl for me and start off slow?”

You wanted to be his good girl more than anything in the entire world in that moment.

You can’t even answer, can’t do anything, because he began to align his cock to your sopping entrance, pushing inside of you. It’s excruciating, it’s slow it’s almost impossible to understand how he’s splitting you in half. Jungkook’s head fell back on the mattress, face scrunched up in pleasure, jaw hanging open.

The slide felt almost endless, like you would never reach the hilt of his cock. There’s an endless cycle of Jungkook’s voice spilling endless praise for you taking him so well, that he’s almost all inside, that you already look so full, that he’s never letting you go.

And then finally, when you’re about to tap out and let him get on top, you feel your clit pressed his pubic bone and your body has never felt so entirely filled.

You both let out a simultaneous moan that you’re certain everyone downstairs heard and is getting ready to come upstairs and bang pots and pans at the door.

“I…” Your body gave out a little, and you lean backwards on your palms, giving him a better view of how irresistible you look with his cock so deep inside of you.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand traveled to your clit, rubbing circles, “So damn tight, huh? No one’s fucked you like this in a while.”

All you can do is nod.

The sounds are obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the headboard slamming against the walls, your own whimpers, Jungkook’s groans. You know they can hear you. And you don’t care. Not one bit. In fact, you want it.

You fell forward a little, gripped onto his chest and dug your fingernails into him. You can’t even think, breathe, can’t remember the last time something has ever felt this ethereal. Your head lulled backwards, fingernails so deep in his skin you’re leaving bruises. Jungkook gripped onto your hips, pads of his thumbs imprinting themselves on your skin. You’re certain he must be pussy drunk or something, because the only things leaving his mouth are blabbers, “… fuck, you are so tight and wet.. fucking beautiful, my best girl so good, need you so bad, always..”

Your hips continued to undulate wildly, and you don’t even know where the confidence is coming from but you felt like some fucking goddess riding this man into oblivion. And you recognized it, he’s so close, his face is contorted, chest heaving, eyes squeezed so tight, committing the feeling of you riding him to memory..

And you never get to see that orgasm (yet) because you hear the door swing open. Jungkook sat up, eyes widened, looking between you and your intruder. But you’re too in deep, too into it to stop, too close, too needy… who gives a fuck if Taehyung or even Jimin sees?

He looked back at you, face flushed with an expression you can’t recognize. You tossed your head back, and you understand why he looks like that. You caught a sight of Seo-yeon’s black hair, and when you turned your body, you saw her figure standing there in the doorway, watching, observing, a tiny (and you have to look hard) smirk on her face.

“Are you going t-to get the fuck out or what?” Jungkook tried to sound tough, but he’s coming undone closer and closer by the second.

And you don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact you’re fucking your best friend, maybe it’s the fact you’re still a little drunk off the punch, maybe you’re just a different person than 3 hours ago, but you turned back to Jungkook and go, “Let her stay and watch. Let her see how good I fuck you. Let her know you’re fucking mine.”

You can’t see it, but she blinks at the doorway, jaw unhinged and a gulp of saliva slithering like molasses down her throat. “Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum,” Jungkook whined out.

“Yeah, you want to cum?” You leaned back, giving him full access to your pussy and the way his cock is coated with your juices, dripping onto his abdomen, making a mess everywhere. “Tell her you’re mine. Now.”

You don’t even know if she’s still there, you just want him to say it. Even if it’s just for you.

But, he looked back at her, looks back at her petite frame in the doorway, then back at you. “I’m yours. I’m fucking yours, baby. Forever.”

“Good boy,” You leaned your body back into him, press a kiss into his sweaty cheek. You then turn back around to handle her, and it almost makes you want to laugh how she’s now frozen to the wall like you once were. “Now, close the fucking door behind you while I finish him off.”

The door slammed behind her, but you barely noticed or cared. He’s an absolute wreck, singing praises to you and you’re all yeah yeah yeah please please please I’m so close, and he came undone so fiercely he’s struggling to keep it together, to not collapse. He coated your walls, and you clenched around him as you barreled through what might be the most insane orgasm of your life.

There’s a moment where black washed over your vision, jaw ripping open trying to scream his name, or anything remotely in the dictionary, and you’re just putty on top of him as your body shakes and convulses trying to come down.

You fell into him, on top of him rather, hearts struggling to get back to its normal rhythm. He doesn’t want to move, can’t imagine going anywhere in that moment. You finally moved over to his side, nestling into him and you’re certain there’ll be a mold of your body on him tomorrow. He wrapped his arm around you, tugging in as close as he possibly could.

For a while, you just lay there like that. You welcomed the silence, no longer letting it scare you.

“You know, your mom and my mom were plotting on us.”

He’s the first to break through your thoughts. You giggled, tracing circles on his chest, listening to his heart thump thump thump against his ribcage. “I’ve always loved you. I know that. Well, ever since you gave me that Spider Man plushie when we were 11.”

You can’t deny the shit-eating grin that appeared in your face. You weren’t about to tell him you fell into love with him before that, probably when he gave you a Hello Kitty bandaid for one of your ouchies. “Is that so?” You teased.

Into your hair, Jungkook whispered, “Always been mine.”

There’s a wave of something that crashes over you, something you feel deep within you. He’s mine, you thought to yourself. And it makes you blink tears away because of it.

You laid there, peacefully, silently, in absolutely bliss…

“Ugh, Jungkook! Right there! So fucking good!”

“[Y/N], keep going! Your pussy feels so good! Ahhhh!”

“Jimin! Taehyung!” Jungkook roared, reaching up one arm for the pillow on the bed and flinging it at the wooden door, other arm still wrapped loosely around your shoulders.

“Hey, man! You can’t get mad at me! You just had sex in my fucking bed. You’re doing my laundry for six months!” Jimin’s voice cracked at the realization of you two… in his bed… with god knows what juices splattered. He shuddered even imagining it.

“He’s got a point,” Jungkook sighed, running his hand over his face.

You laughed a little, then he did too, and you felt the vibration against your body. There was only him, only now. And as Jungkook pulled you closer, tucking you into the warmth of his arms, you realized— it was supposed to be this easy. And for the first time, it didn’t feel scary. It felt like home.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[peachylynnie]

you make him lose his cool

word count: 900-1k per lead synopsis: in which you provoke them, and they love it. (inspired by kiss of life's igloo) contains: fem!reader x lads men (separate, non!mc), established relationship, downbad men, NSFW CONTENT MDNI (i'm talking grinding, oral sex implications, etc), song lyrics, and cursing. a/n: UPDATED WITH CALEB AS OF 2/1/25 i feel hot whenever i listen to this song. i hope you do too while reading. enjoy! do not plagiarize or translate. lads men do NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs & comments appreciated. lads masterlist | tagged: @vvintqz (ik this is technically the reader teasing xavier but u said to tag u when i write xavier so i hope u enjoy)

caleb

What you heard? (What you heard?) But it's never what you think, trust

it's impossible to surprise caleb.

he always knows what you're up to.

whether you're just waking up from a heavenly two-hour nap or going out to get your hands on the latest edition of your favorite blind box series, he's always there.

last time you tried to cook yourself a meal (ever since you started dating, he hasn't let you lift a finger), he came home early and snatched the spatula away from you, insisting that you sit down and look pretty for him while he makes his signature braised wings.

you're not sure how he does it. maybe he has a secret camera or a tracker installed (ha). though, you don't have any complaints. you think it's fucking hot how he's never away from you.

even so, you've been wanting to surprise him for a while now. blame it on your desire to fluster him as much as he flusters you. you're going to surprise him AT LEAST once in your lifetime.

which explains why you're in an apron right now, with absolutely nothing underneath.

to be honest, you were hoping to surprise him with homemade apple pie since he's always cooking for you. but again, you want to fluster him. thus the apron, a long piece of denim fabric wrapped tightly around your waist and hung dangerously low at your chest. you can't deny how delectable you appeared when you looked in the mirror, admiring your exposed arms, legs, back, and neck—anything that would drive the esteemed colonel insane. you felt jittery just thinking about the look he would have on his face when he walked in through the door of your shared home.

however, your joy is short-lived when your phone rings while you slice up some apples in the kitchen.

"what's with the apron, pipsqueak?"

you put the knife down with a sigh. "do you have a camera installed in here or what?"

caleb chuckles into the phone. "wouldn't you like to know?"

"i would like to know so i can turn the damn thing off and actually surprise you for once, dipshit," you retort playfully as you adjust your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the knife to continue chopping. you suppose you should still make the pie since you already got the ingredients out.

"aw," he mocks, his voice dripping with arousal. "did my little pipsqueak dress up just for me?"

"yes," you snap, rolling your eyes. "but this little pipsqueak is about to change since you ruined her surprise."

your threat does little to faze caleb, as evidenced by his endearing laughter.

"don't be upset, pips," he teases into the phone. before you can scoff at his audacity to tell you not to be upset, your ears catch the hurried footsteps in the background of the call. it doesn't take long for you to hope your boyfriend is on his way home—on his way to you. sure enough, his next words cause heat to pool between your bare legs.

"keep the apron on. i'll be home soon."

after he hangs up, you put your phone down with a giggle, eager for what's to unfold once he arrives. however, you still can't help but wonder if he actually has a camera installed because how the fuck does he always know what you're up to? you frown as you turn your head left and right. you don't see any red flashing lights in places that could provide him an optimal view. nope. nothing in the corners of the ceilings and nothing in the walls either. before you can convince yourself your boyfriend is somehow omniscient, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

his dog tag. seems like he forgot to put it on after putting on his uniform. you pocket it, hoping to give it to him when he gets home.

but your mind is truly one of a kind. as caleb likes to put it, resourceful during the most critical moments.

because when he's balls deep inside of you, coaxing your second orgasm out of you, you get the bright idea to fish your shaky fingers into the pocket of your bunched-up apron and put. it. on.

caleb's eyes widen upon seeing his dog tag on you. there it was, the important item he forgot this morning, resting between the delicious valley of your breasts, bouncing up and down while jingling an enticing melody.

"fuck—pipsqueak, you—" he thrusts harshly, pistoning into your sopping heat. you throw your head back at the sensation, allowing him an even better view of his chain, mingling with the beads of sweat on your collarbone. shit, he's so turned on right now. not only were your swollen, sweet lips adorning his name, but so was your pretty little neck. it filled the young colonel with pride. and enough vigor to bring you to your third release, as evidenced by the endless slamming of his hips and the clenching of your thighs.

"good girl," he helps you through your high before letting go of your waist, hoping to give you a break. "i'll go get a towel. stay here."

but when your pilot of a lover goes to leave, you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you, causing him to collide with you. caleb hisses at the contact, sensitive more than ever.

"don't push it, pipsqueak," he warns as he plants both of his arms on the kitchen counter, caging you in. "you need to rest."

"i don't think so, colonel," you prop yourself on your elbows, meeting his eyes boldly. "i don't think so at all."

caleb swears he feels his mechanical arm short-circuit because what you do next is just fucking tantalizing.

you pinch his dog tag and bring it to your mouth.

his breathing quickens substantially when your teeth take the shiny piece of metal as their prisoner. it's not long before his dog tag is trapped between your seductive canines and your thighs are tightened around his waist.

with a shameless smile, you jut your chin towards the man, signaling to him to make his move.

caleb growls, seizing the chain with both hands and bringing you to his face.

"i warned you, pips."

extra (in honor of his official installment)

as you munch on some apple pie in caleb's embrace on the couch, you can't help but ask.

"how did you know about the apron but not the dog tag?"

your boyfriend sniffs before answering, a little bit of pie still in his mouth.

"i couldn't check the cameras on the way home."

"oh that makes sense."

"…"

"wait, what?!"

sylus

Glass room, perfume, Kodak on that lilac (alright) Slipping on my short dress, know he like that (like that)

there's nothing like getting ready in sylus' bathroom. not because of the sheer size of it (it takes at least a day to explore his residence), but because of how good you look in the mirror right now. you can't help but smile as you step back to get a full look at yourself.

sylus went all out for tonight's auction.

he gifted you a tight-fitting ebony dress, its gorgeous silk straps accentuating your shoulders perfectly. he also gifted you a pair of evening gloves, its velvet fabric wrapping around your arms flawlessly. of course, the dress came with priceless jewels and heels. as you twirl in front of the mirror, the scarlet gems on your ears glimmer, and the cherry kitten heels on your feet click. oh, you look so good, you can kill.

but what seals the deal is the neck accessory he got you.

an intricate, black choker made out of lace. fucking lace. a scoff leaves your mouth when you notice the ruby medallion hanging at the center. his taste is as clear as day.

as you reach behind your neck to clip the choker, the man of the hour walks in. you meet his eyes through the mirror, your hands still at the back of your neck. "sylus."

"miss," he acknowledges in return, an unmistakable smirk appearing on his lips. his eyes trail down your figure. "you look stunning."

"thanks," you giggle as you hook the choker clasp. "you don't look bad yourself."

and you're absolutely right. although he has his usual dress shirt on, his outerwear is completely new. a gorgeous red blazer, adorned with inky brush strokes, sits proudly on his shoulders. moreover, his accessories are new (he's never worn any before). cuffed around his right hand is a sleek platinum watch, spotlighting his forearm deliciously. hanging from his left ear are silver chains, shining unashamedly. you can't help but bite your lips as you admire your lover in the mirror.

yeah, sylus went all out tonight.

catching the hazy look in your glittered eyes, he tilts his head before grinning, "like what you see, sweetie?"

you roll your eyes playfully before returning to the sink. "yes, actually. didn't know you were capable of wearing something other than black."

sylus chuckles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "i've worn colors other than black before."

"if you're talking about the two outfits that have the belt around the sleeve," you list nonchalantly as you pick up your lip gloss. "they don't count. they have black on them."

"i'm talking about the red cardigan, sweetie," he counters smoothly, eyeing the lip gloss in your hand.

"ah." you run the wand over your parted lips, enjoying the feeling of gloss on them. "touche," you say, bending over the sink to see if you missed a spot. you do, however, miss the way sylus' fingers tighten around his arms when your dress hikes up. smacking your lips together, you lift the wand to reapply. "but you barely even wear that. so that doesn't count either."

sylus hums, barely paying attention to what you just said. his eyes are transfixed on the wand. he's mesmerized by how it travels across your lips, slathering them with sticky, shimmery syrup, leaving him thirsty for a taste. not to mention the sounds leaving your lips whenever you press them together. sweet, squelching sounds that have him pressing against you in mere seconds, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

at first, you were taken aback by his sudden proximity. but after feeling something prod at your back, you smile amusingly before placing the wand down. "i'm assuming," you swiftly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, his eyes widening as you pull him closer. "there's been a change of plans." you slowly lick your lips, collecting some excess gloss. as it drips from the tip of your tongue, you ask with a tilt of your head, "how late are we going to be?"

that's it.

sylus crashes into you, his tongue desperately trying to lap up the excess gloss. his hands haphazardly roam all over your body before lifting you onto the sink, pinning you down as his lips smear your lip gloss everywhere. you moan, trying to match his fervor. the sinful mixing of breaths, saliva, and gloss floods your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around him and bring him closer to you. he welcomes the action, gasping and grinding into you.

by the time he pulls away for air, both of you are left panting like dogs, mouths and chins smothered in sheen.

your eyes never leave sylus' as you wipe your chin, a string of gloss and saliva hanging prettily from your gloved palm. with a groan, he dives into your neck and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you throw your head back at the pain, whimpering when he soothes the spot with his tongue.

but when sylus traces a finger up your back, you freeze immediately.

why?

oh, because he's unzipping your dress.

"sorry, sweetie," he chuckles into your perfumed skin, savoring your surprised reaction when he drags the zipper all the way down. "we won't be late."

you look at him in confusion, barely processing the silk straps falling off your shoulders.

he leans in and whispers into your ear.

"we won't be going at all."

xavier

Heart attack, IV when I walk the street Vitamins that D, I'm good, I'm healthy

your starlight of a boyfriend collapses onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge and his pants dangling pathetically from his ankles.

you giggle at the sight, wiping your lips clean of his release. as you rub a drop between your index finger and thumb, you notice the texture's a bit thick, almost like jelly.

"xavier," you call lovingly, rising from your knees and crawling on top of him. he barely responds; his eyes are screwed shut with beads of sweat trailing down his face, neck, chest, legs, everywhere. shit, what did you do to him? he can't get his chest to stop heaving, his mouth to stop watering, and his ears to stop ringing. he can't do anything. not with the way you looked so pretty on top of him, especially after making him release so intensely in your mouth.

"xavier," you repeat as you cradle his face, making his dazed eyes meet yours. "when was the last time you drank water?"

"water?" he pants. "i'm not sure. why do you ask?"

"well," you show him your fingers. he gulps, flushing a deeper shade of red. "this tells me you haven't been drinking enough water."

you get up to retrieve some water from the kitchen. xavier whines at the loss of contact. although he tries to stop you from leaving, you easily slip out of his weak embrace (he literally got his life sucked out of him; cut him some slack). after you reassure him with a kiss on his forehead, you open the door. "i'll be back soon."

he responds with a whimper before closing his eyes. before he knows it, he falls asleep.

not even five minutes have passed when you return to the room, a glass of water in your hand and a packet of vitamins in the other.

"xavier?" after placing the items down on the nightstand, you sit on the bed to admire the view. there he is, sleeping soundly with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unbuckled, his chest slowly rising up and down and his cute nose scrunching every so often. you almost feel bad when you wake him up. almost. as much as you like watching your boyfriend sleep, he needs his water and vitamins, considering how much energy he uses to fight wanderers.

"wake up, xavier," you coo. "you need your vitamins."

he stirs, peeking one eye open to look at you. cute, you think. "i'm too tired, angel." he whines before closing his eye again. "i'll have some later."

"come on," you chuckle. "at least drink some water. you're dehydrated."

hoping to keep him awake, you litter his face with kisses, repeatedly pecking his adorable features. his droopy eyelids, his button nose, his fluffy cheeks, his moist forehead, his small chin—not a single spot is missed.

his little laughs repay your efforts. before you can continue your bombardment of kisses, his arms wrap around your shoulders, successfully pinning you down to him. you're surprised by how quickly he replenished his strength.

"you're trapped," he points out cheekily. "now we can both sleep."

"xavier," it's your turn to whine. "you need to drink some water. besides," you try to get up but fail miserably due to his tight embrace. "you need to scoot up, and i need to lay down properly if we both want to sleep." still no signs of letting you go.

you sigh before poking at your boyfriend's waist, causing him to yelp.

he immediately lets go of you, rubbing the spot you just touched. taking the chance to escape, you stand up and reach for the glass and vitamins.

"meanie," he pouts. "i thought we agreed to not tickle each other for today."

"that's because you try to tickle me all the time," you retort playfully, opening the packet of vitamins. "besides, i only tickle you as a last resort. unlike you, i'm nice." you pop the vitamin in your mouth and bring the glass to your lips.

"as if." he yanks up his pants and crosses his arms. "last time i checked, being nice means letting your boyfriend sleep peacefully," he quips as he turns away from you, hoping his grumpy little act will coax more kisses from you.

instead, a hand comes into his view and grasps the sheets. furrowing his brows, he shifts back to ask what's wrong but is startled to find your face hovering above his. 

"angel, what—"

you press your lips into his, your free hand gripping his chin. on instinct, xavier opens his mouth, expecting your tongue to greet his. however, his eyes widen when he feels something pour in. oh. he greedily swallows the water and vitamin, his fingers weaving into your hair.

you pull away abruptly, a drop of water trickling down the corner of your lips. before he can say anything, you grab the glass of water and drink from it again, your hooded eyes never leaving his. xavier groans at the sight, his chest heaving for the third time today. and it's barely afternoon. oh, you're going to be the death of him.

he's sure of it when you return to his lips, water flowing into his mouth so sensually as his tongue reaches out for more. this time, you rest your entire body on top of him, allowing him to grab at your hips and thrust upward, desperately rubbing against your clothed core and seeking any type of friction that could relieve him of this growing desire you satiated with your mouth less than ten minutes ago. he never wants to drink water alone ever again.

“a-angel,” he moans when you pull away again. “why?” 

“you need more water, xavier.” you tease with a lick of your lips. “gotta make sure my boyfriend is hydrated, ya know?”

with that, you go to stand up and reach for the glass. however, the room spins as xavier pins you down, your positions switched and your wrists restrained above your head. your eyes widen, realizing you might've pushed your boyfriend too far. 

"angel," dark, cerulean eyes burn into you before glancing at the glass. “that's not enough water.”

rafayel

Yeah, white tippy-toe summer, I make him go dumb, duh He doubled down on that text, says that I'm the only one

(heads up, reader doesn't have to be mc but they know about rafayel's identity as the sea god and he calls you his beloved bride)

rafayel isn't sure how he got here.

you, on top of his bare chest, nibbling at his neck and dragging a finger down his clenched abdomen.

"c-cutie," he stammers. "someone might see."

he's not wrong. you're at the beach after all. but it's a private beach, one the artist rented for a date. so really, what's the harm in pinning your boyfriend down in the sand and showing him how much you appreciate him?

"you're the one who said this place was private, raf." you giggle before sinking your teeth into him, eliciting a moan. "besides, we both know why you suggested a date at the beach. don't tell me you forgot." you trail your finger along the waistband of his swim trunks. he jolts, his half-lidded eyes meeting your misty ones.

of course, he didn't forget. but considering the current, scandalous situation he's in right now, his memory is a bit hazy. as you twirl the drawstring with your index finger, rafayel bites his lip and tries to remember how exactly he got here.

last thing he remembers is you excitedly texting him about your package coming in.

a package, pft. no big deal, right?

wrong.

he almost dropped his phone when you sent him a picture of the package, more specifically, you wearing its contents.

a gorgeous two-piece swimsuit in the color of his hair. fuck, lavender has never looked so good on you. the way the tight, skimpy fabric hugged all the right places, making you seem so so malleable. the way you posed in front of the mirror, your face bridling with innocent excitement but your body positioned so so temptingly. shit, he hopes this exhibition ends soon because his slacks feel suffocating all of a sudden.

it wasn't long before he spammed you with a hurricane of texts consisting of flattering emojis and praises about how you're the only one he'll ever love (dramatic but heartwarming) and how he would love to take you on a date at the beach as soon as this stupid exhibition is over so you can swim in your new set to your heart's content (totally not because he wants to see the real thing).

yeah, now he remembers. he got himself into this situation. you even tried to stop him.

"uh," he recalls you hesitating through the call. "aren't you tired from your exhibit?"

"nope," he immediately answers, causing you to raise a brow. "not at all, cutie. i'm in tip-top shape. what better place for us to test your swimsuit than the beach?"

"us?" you repeat amusingly. "since when was testing a swimsuit a two-person thing?"

shit, he got caught.

"raf," you giggle at his silence. "if you want to see me wear this in person, you can always just ask, you know?"

"w-what?! no!" he acts as if you insulted his artwork. "i just thought it'd be a good opportunity for us to go on a date and to test the quality of your swimsuit! what if one day you go into the water and it gets untied or something? what if i'm not there to protect you from prying eyes? you can never be careful enough with swimsuits, especially shipped ones!"

"uh-huh," you drawl skeptically. "i'm sure a triple-knotted bikini will SOMEHOW get untied by the waves."

"come on, cutie," rafayel whines. "i know a perfect, private place! i'll even bring the food, the blankets, everything! please?" (he purposely emphasized "private" because no way in the seven seas is he going to let anyone look at you in a bikini)

you sigh before observing yourself in the mirror once more. the bikini DID look good, and you DID buy it for future swimming dates with rafayel. might as well, right? besides, you can't say no to him, especially when he begs so cutely like that.

"fine, raf," he remembers you giving in with an endearing sigh. "send me the address of the beach once you're done. i'll stop by your place to pack your swimming trunks."

and here you are, resting on top of him and drawing figure eights with your fingertips IN his swimming trunks.

he would laugh at the irony if it weren't for your provocative actions. you were the one who brought him his swimming trunks, and now, you were the one making him wish you didn't bring them so he could see how pretty your fingers looked right next to his—

yeah, he definitely got himself into this situation. he has no one to blame but himself for his predicament. it's his fault he's currently twitching and throbbing underneath you as you breathe into his neck and tease doodles into his thighs.

"oh fuck, cutie—" rafayel jerks his head back when you suck on his adam's apple. your mouth felt so good. you felt so good. 

after pulling back with a 'pop,' you trace the red mark with your free hand, admiring your artwork on your artist of a lover. unfortunately for him (fortunately, really), this causes him to squirm uncontrollably. the simultaneous stimulation from your right hand on his thigh and your left hand on his neck was just too much for the lemurian. he swears he's this close to bursting all over the sand like a messy, wet bubble. 

suddenly, you stop, withdrawing both of your hands from his body. 

"c-cutie?" he lifts his neck to look at you but finds himself confused as to why you're sitting up. though, his confusion is quelled when you reach behind your neck. 

oh. 

your hands come into view, each one tugging on the strings of your top.

oh fuck. 

he doesn't even see your top fall. no. he's completely frozen (and hard) when you lay back down on him, smushing your now-exposed chest into his abdomen, allowing him a view that brings roses to his cheeks. (he can feel your nipples rubbing against him).

"oh, god of the tides," you purr with a smirk as you press your ear into his chest, relishing in his rapid heartbeats. "you promised you would test this swimsuit with me." before he can deny your reminder of his mistake from the earlier call, you grab his hand and bring it to rest against your swimsuit bottoms, causing his breath to hitch. "won't you make good on your promise?" 

rafayel swallows shakily before nodding. 

"anything for my beloved bride." 

zayne

Mm, yeah, I make him lose his cool Yeah, I make him go mmmmmm ah! ah!

doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, reduced to this.

a red-faced mess, losing his cool in a rocking chair, thanks to his lover shaving his chin on his lap.

his lover, who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown, a silk, sapphire nightgown with lace ruffles and ribbons that drove the man insane.

to make matters worse (better), your bare thighs were on either side of his hips, caressing and stroking him whenever you would move to shave his chin.

don't even get him started on the fact that you're sitting right on top of his crotch. he prays to any merciful soul out there that you don't feel him growing down there-

he inhales sharply when you reach behind him for a towel, your chest mere millimeters from his face.

"you okay, zayne?" you ask with faux concern.

"yes," he clenches his jaw. it's taking him everything to not dive in and lick, suck, bite—anything to relieve him of this torment. "please hurry."

"hurry?" you pout with a tilt of your head. "but why?" you lift his chin to wipe some excess shaving cream. "do you not want me to shave you?"

"no, darling. it's just—" his hands fly to your waist for stability when you place the towel back in its place. shit, every time you lift yourself onto your knees to reach behind him, the chair moves more and more, resulting in a pattern where when he leans back, you press into him, and when you lean back, he presses into you. it's not helping that this pattern deliciously resembles a certain rhythm in bed.

"it's just?" you repeat to him, stroking his jaw to inspect for stray hairs.

he doesn't say anything. how can he? he can't just spill about how badly he wants to kiss your sweet lips, squeeze at your delectable chest, rip your enticing nightgown apart, and take everything you have to offer. no, he can't. not when you approached him so innocently with a cute smile on your face after he came home, asking if you could shave him. (he almost fell to his knees when he saw what you were wearing). not when you look so beautiful gazing at him from above, handling his skin with addictive yet gentle touches, and glowing underneath the moonlight from the open windows. shaking his head, he grips your waist with renewed resolve.

"it's nothing," he closes his eyes. "please continue." he would rather drink alcohol than misinterpret your innocent intentions.

except there was nothing innocent about your intentions at all. you admit, it's fun to tease zayne like this. the way his lips would chase after your fingers whenever you traced them, the way his eyes would falter whenever you leaned in, the way his breath would hitch whenever you moved your hips, oh it all made you feel wanted. and who could want more than a gorgeous, capable doctor who looks at you as if he's going to die if he can't have you?

you. you want more. you WANT him to have you, take you, right here on this rocking chair. you thought teasing him with a few shifts of your hips and some purposeful closings of distances between his face and yours would relay the message. but no. he's either completely oblivious or has the will of a steel that's been fortified ten times over. because even though he's made it incredibly clear that he wants what you want (his blushing cheeks and shortage of breaths are hard to miss), all he's done is sit there and take your teasing.

you frown, retracting your hand. what's it going to take for doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, to give in?

a lightbulb flashes in your head.

"hang on, i missed a spot," you lie, lifting yourself up once more to reach for the shaving cream next to you. "i'll make this quick."

and with that, you slam your hips down.

he groans out loud, eyebrows furrowing and fingers tightening around your hips. he still hasn't opened his eyes though.

"are you sure you're okay, zayne?" you ask innocently, twisting left and right. "i'm worried about you."

"w-why," he starts hoarsely, his fingers gripping for dear life, trying to stop you from moving so damn much. "why would you be worried?"

"oh, i don't know," you smear shaving cream all over his jaw before trailing your fingers down to his neck. "you just seem so…" you slowly trace a heart on his collarbone, eliciting a pretty gasp from him. "out of it."

zayne's eyes jerk open, glaring at you with unprecedented focus. you smile cheekily before pressing yourself deeper into him, eager to bear witness to what he'll do and say since he finally opened his eyes.

though, your smile doesn't last long. in an instant, his hands pin yours behind your back, causing your back to arch and your lips to part.

"i'm starting to think," he secures your wrists in his right hand and brings his left to his face, wiping away the mess you made. "you're doing this on purpose."

you grin. finally. he finally got the message. unable to hide your excitement, you lean in next to his ear and whisper, "what are you going to do about it, doc-tor?"

he inhales sharply, yanking your wrists.

"perhaps," he growls. "it's time you get a taste of your own medicine. prescribed by yours truly."

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

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