#when they aren’t doing what you’d like? isn’t it an easy thing to watch what you say to people? to hear yourself? to not make such a big

[webism]

pornstar!sukuna who has a niche for the dark and dangerous, he only accepts shoots that cater to his more… intense nature—ropes and chains and gags and rigs beyond the regular bedroom scenes.

pornstar!sukuna who works with many other actors and actresses. he's demeaned and degraded more people for a pay check than he can count, but his favourite is you. you’re not so easy to break, which he likes—plus, videos in which you bite back make double the profit.

pornstar!sukuna who is easy to agree when you call him one night asking for a favour. you were meant to do a camshow with another pornstar when he cancelled last minute—and you know people are excited for this one, if you don’t want to miss out on a paycheck you’d need to find a quick replacement.

pornstar!sukuna who is expecting a homemade bd/sm rig to greet him when he walks into your home that night.

pornstar!sukuna who isn’t expecting a bed with a pink duvet and matching fluffy pink handcuffs hanging from your headboard. it’s cute, he thinks—he can picture the scene, you laid out and fucked like a whore in pink. he’s eager, until you tell him the handcuffs aren’t for you, but for him.

pornstar!sukuna who is about ready to walk out, to tell you off for even assuming he’d do such things on camera, that he'd ruin his crafted image of this sadistic figurehead for a camshow of all things.

pornstar!sukuna who just can't say no and turn on his heels, not when you look up at him like that, your pretty eyes just too convincing. He's seen you fucked out and stupidly cockdrunk before, he knows what you look like when you submit wholly to him, and though it's a beautiful sight—one of his favourites—he can't deny that he's intrigued to know how you look through his eyes when they're glossed with desperate pleasure.

pornstar!sukuna, the notorious dominant, who loads up on thousands. of peoples screens handcuffed to a pink bed. Everything pink: the cuffs, the sheets, his mussed hair, the pretty blush that paints the bridge of his nose, the leaky tip of his cock as you stroke it, your nails painted pink to match.

pornstar!sukuna who growls when people start tipping each time he gets close to cumming. who looks so insanely out of place, big and imposing and so covered in tattoos that even his ridiculous length has been inked to an extent, all needy and growing all the more desperate as you keep denying him his orgasm. wrists chained to your wooden headboard, his muscles ache with the temptation of breaking free.

pornstar!sukuna who can't help but wonder if his life has been flipped on its head when you start praising him and he moans at your words alone. Who, for all his life has gotten off on inflicting the worst onto others, and can now feel the most powerful orgasm of his life cresting when those narcotic words spill from your lips. "doing so well for me, god you look good like this, sukuna."

pornstar!sukuna who can only hold on for so long before his taut-pulled patience snaps and burns on impact. so when he's watching himself through the display of your laptop, cock red and angry as it leaks in need at your denial of his orgasm again, he snaps.

pornstar!sukuna who breaks your handcuffs with one pull, and has you flipped over and taking his mean cock in less time than it takes you to process his movements. who is glad you were enjoying torturing him, because you're so wet that the stretch of his cock is only searingly painful and you're not pushed to tears... this time.

pornstar!sukuna who fucks you mindless for toying with him for so long. for airing out a side of him that is weak in the bones for you, and plastering it on the internet for anyone to see. he bullies his cock into you, mean and unrelenting—yet whispers the sweetest of nothings into your ear as he does so, low enough that your mic can't pick up on them—your ears only.

pornstar!sukuna who kisses you when he cums. his lip piercing cold against your lips, your legs shaking in desperate need for mercy as he paints your insides white.

pornstar!sukuna who laughs when you, in your cum-drunk haze, try to reach for your laptop to turn off the camshow.

pornstar!sukuna who promises your now-doubled viewer count that the stream won't end until you've come ten times on his cock—he's going to make an example out of you.

[peapod20001]

Currently metaphorically banging my head and fists on the wall cus the only person that I can fully articulate my thoughts and feelings with is my own brain sooo :,)

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?” 

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?” 

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.” 

���Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?” 

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.” 

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!” 

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”  

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.” 

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have. 

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys. 

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment. 

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either. 

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?” 

“A little bit.” 

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop. 

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now. 

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly. 

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.” 

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.” 

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.” 

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him. 

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!” 

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right? 

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well. 

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water. 

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you. 

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already. 

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you. 

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself. 

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision. 

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you. 

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call. 

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects. 

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else. 

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?” 

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—” 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.” 

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here. 

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you. 

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually. 

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol. 

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is. 

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.” 

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug. 

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.” 

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.” 

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.” 

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts. 

“Not from you!” 

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?” 

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.” 

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?” 

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.” 

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Should we—” 

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first. 

“We should probably get going.” 

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?” 

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in. 

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call. 

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road. 

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.” 

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later. 

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel. 

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—” 

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.” 

“Oh. Cool.” 

“Is it?” 

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.” 

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper. 

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more. 

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here. 

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals. 

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room. 

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.  

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.” 

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.” 

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.” 

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.” 

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.” 

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?” 

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?” 

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.” 

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe? 

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror. 

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this. 

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time. 

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him. 

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.” 

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

“Friends are there for each other.” 

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?” 

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.” 

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together. 

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance. 

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.” 

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job. 

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up. 

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling. 

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations. 

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle. 

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened. 

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own. 

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet. 

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration. 

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level. 

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.” 

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.” 

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.” 

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other. 

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.” 

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand. 

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?” 

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?” 

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.” 

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.” 

“Lando, I—” 

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.” 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too. 

Fuck it. 

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there. 

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question. 

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again. 

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.” 

“No! We should talk about this. Us.” 

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.” 

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.” 

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

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[trivia-yandere]

Hi Hello

I was wondering if you could do the Idol!au version of "best friends!"? I LOVED this I would like to see from the perspective where Jungkook(or any of the other boys) is an idol and has a friend wanting to lose his virginity to an idol close to him, you know?

hello! yes I can! i like the concept, thank you for sending a request and being patient 💜some things have been changed, but overall it's similar

seonbaenim!

your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29

word count: 10.347

warning: alcohol intake, kissing, coercion, slight intoxication, smut, dub-con, manipulation, jealous/possessive behavior, naive reader, praising, dirty talking, unsolicited touching/groping, masturbating, oral sex, loss of virginity, fingering, licking, nipple sucking, unprotected sex, squirting,

non-idol version

“Thank you, seonbaenim. For offering to help me.” you bow your head to Jungkook, hands clenching with nervousness. “It’s an honor having someone like you helping me with my comeback.”

Jungkook offers a soft grin, the piercing on his lip glistening underneath the studio lights. “No need to thank me, Y/N. You don’t have to be formal, either. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You swallow and nod your head. You don’t want to be rude - Jungkook has been an idol for years, far before your debut, and you held great respect and admiration for him. 

“Yes, we are friends.” you assure Jungkook - it was one of the reasons he insisted on helping you. 

You met Jungkook two years prior, him complimenting you once your group was done performing. He was someone you’d go to for advice when needed. He would show you songs he was working on, even if they were unreleased and you’d do the same.

Now, Jungkook had offered to help you with your comeback - he had listened to you vent to him about your struggles countless times. 

“So, let’s go talk about this comeback.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “You told me you were having a hard time?”

You nod. 

“What’s the aesthetic your group is looking for?”

You’re growing hot underneath Jungkook’s gaze.

“A more…mature approach.” you murmur, twiddling your fingers. “Break away from the innocent good girl look we’ve had.”

Jungkook nods and hums. “So, sexy.” he snorts when your eyes grow wide. “Your group is having a sexy type comeback. That’s good.” he nods his head. “Good girls gone bad? Girls gone wild?”

Jungkook laughs at the horrified look on your face.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m just teasing.” Jungkook assures. “What are you having a hard time with exactly?”

You inhale deeply then exhale. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself more than you already were, but Jungkook was here now willing to help you and this isn’t something you can ruin.

“I’m not sexy.” you respond. “My sisters are. They can channel it and I just can’t.”

Jungkook’s taken aback by your words. So you were feeling insecure about your lack of sex appeal. It’s then that Jungkook takes over your figure, not caring if you noticed or not. 

“You want my help with your sex appeal?”

Hearing it said like that makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. You hide your face with your hands, completely mortified. 

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m sure you have amazing sex appeal-”

“Please stop.” you quip - you’d rather die than for him to continue to pity you. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

The seriousness in Jungkook’s tone has you complying. 

“Anyone can be sexy.” You want to say that it was easy for him to say. For Jungkook, it was like a switch. You’ve watched the man on stage become an entirely different person than the sweet man who you’ve become close with. “You just need to bring it out.”

You nod your head, unsure of how to bring another side of you out.

“Your sister’s seem to be naturals.” Jungkook notes. “Why do you think it’s difficult for you?”

You want to scoff. You shared the group with your sisters, both older than you. Sexy did appear to come natural for them. You were often left in their shadow and was nothing but their younger, shy sister. In interviews, you’d allow them to speak for you often, not wanting to make a fool of yourself if or when you said the wrong thing.

Jungkook waits for a response. He’s sure he understands. He was an observant man, after all. He’s watched the way you’ve grown in the last couple years, watching you on stage he was sure you were often in your own head and afraid of messing up. Your mistakes were light and easy to fix, but that didn’t mean you weren’t often criticized for it. He’s watched the group's music videos and it was then did you shine - but it was a music video, meaning you were also edited that way.

“Y/N?”

You blink. You swallow the lump in your throat and before you can apologize, Jungkook speaks once more. 

“Are you a virgin?”

Jungkook is positive he knows the answer already, but he wants to hear you say it. There had to be a deeper reason as to why you were struggling with this when your sisters weren’t. It could be because they were older, yes, and had more experience - but you were an adult, too. 

Jungkook gets his answer when you visibly stiffen. He licks his lips and offers you a smile. 

“Maybe that’s why you’re having a difficult time in appearing sexy. We’re friends, right?” Jungkook scoots his chair closer to you. “What have you ever done with a man?”

You feel a shudder run up your spine at his words. You’re unsure how to respond, far too humiliated to be speaking with your seonbae about your sex life - or lack of.

“Not much.” you murmur, a slight squeak in your voice. 

“Have you ever touched a man?” Jungkook doesn’t want to push you over the edge, he has eyes. He notices the way your foot is slightly shaking with nerves. However, there’s something inside of him - a new interest, maybe? - that wants to know. “Has a man ever touched you?”

You shake your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook’s intense one. He was going to think you were pathetic, probably laugh in your face about your lack of experience. 

“That’s good.” Jungkook says, even surprised with the tone in his own voice. Your eyes snap to him, wide and shocked. He lightly chuckles at your reaction. “You can learn, Y/N. But no one can ever make you feel sexy until you feel it within yourself.”

Jungkook leans back into the chair. His eyes roam around your figure. You’re dressed comfortably, but he knows the figure you have beneath it. Again, he’s watched you on stage in the outfits the stylist put you in. You had whatever it took to be sexy - it was your own self holding you back. 

“How about we discuss this over dinner. I’m starving and we’ve been at this for hours now. You have to be hungry, too.” Jungkook gives you an assuring smile - a smile that tells you that this is safe. To trust him - and you did.

You’ve never been to Jungkook’s home before, and when he suggested dinner you thought it would be some form of takeout at the studio. “I have food that we can heat up at my house.” Jungkook had told you, and now here you sat, legs crossed as the both of you enjoyed the ramen he had prepared.

“So, what do you think you need to do to feel sexy?” Jungkook asks. He pours the wine into both glasses, lightly pushing yours towards you. 

You smell the wine before tasting it. It’s a bit strong, but you don’t want to appear rude and decline it. “Maybe, look the part?” you respond after a few moments. 

Jungkook nods. He changes the subject, asking then about how you were adjusting to being an idol - even if it has been over two years. With each passing conversation, he’s assured to refill each of your wine glasses until he notices the slight glossy look in your eyes.

“Look.” Jungkook speaks, facing you towards the tall mirror on his wall. He’s directly behind you, hands on your shoulders. “Your group has potential, Y/N. I know this comeback would be like no other.” Jungkook is sure of himself, as well, because this time you had him helping you. “This time, you’ll be the star. Not your sisters.”

You laugh with a shake of your head. You felt more comfortable and maybe that was the wine’s doing. Your jacket had been left somewhere in Jungkook’s living room, and now you’re left in a short sleeved shirt. 

“Why are you laughing? You don’t believe me?” Jungkook squeezes your shoulders gently. “Follow me.”

Jungkook turns away from you face and you stumble just to follow him. He takes you down a long hallway until he stops in front of a door. “This is my room.” he says as he opens the door to it. It’s simple, nothing too extravagant or over the top like you assume it would be for an idol with money like him. “Have you taken your concept photos yet?”

You shake your head. “It’ll be tomorrow, actually.” you respond.

“Good.” Jungkook murmurs. “Sit down on my bed.”

You do as you’re told. It feels weird being in his bedroom, but you don’t allow yourself to overthink. Jungkook goes to his closet for a moment and returns with a camera in hand. He hands you the camera after turning it on. 

“I’ll have you take pictures of me first.” Jungkook says. “Just so you can see what I do and replicate it, okay?”

You nod your head. Your palms are sweaty and you’re frightened more than you were going to somehow drop and break such an expensive camera into pieces.

Nonetheless, you  do as Jungkook tells you. You snap the pictures, all of which he nails. With each picture, he explains what you’re expected to do; “You have to look directly into the camera, don’t shy away.” , “Don’t be afraid to show some skin, either. You aren’t a child.” 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks once the both of you had gone over the pictures you’ve taken.

Your mind swirls but you can't back down now. “Ready.” you nod.

Jungkook snaps a few pictures. You’re stiff, posing as if you’ve never been photographed before, but that was your nerves talking to you.

“Do you want this, Y/N?” Jungkook asks after around 10 minutes. Somehow he managed to pour even more wine, this time you’re gulping it down without a care. You need your nerves to be calmed. “You have to show me you’re serious. You don’t want to live in your sister's shadows forever, right?”

You take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want to be known as the shy one - the one that no one bothered to look at. You couldn’t waste any of Jungkook’s time - he didn’t have to help you, but he was. 

Jungkook watches through the lens of the camera the way it happened - the switch that turns on and had you changed from the shy girl you were, to the girl he knew you could be. It started with your eyes - the way you looked right at him through the lens, not faltering once. Your eyes - sharp, seductive and fierce.

Jungkook licks his lips, lowering his camera to look directly at you. He takes a few steps closer to your position onto his bed, dropping his camera not far from you. On the ground sat the half empty wine bottle and your glass. He proceeds to pour some more in and take a few sips.

“More wine?” Jungkook asks cooly with a raised brow. 

You nod your head without thinking, reaching your hand out to grab the glass. Jungkook dodges your attempts and instead, raises the glass above your head. “Come here, Y/N.”

You do as you’re told. Your mind is attempting to focus on everything right now, but you were already tipsy. You rarely drink - especially wine.You always assumed that it was an exaggeration when people said they can get drunk from wine - but with the way you are now, you know it's anything but an exaggeration. 

You’re at the edge of Jungkook’s bed now, meeting him where he wants you at. Your knees are pressed firmly into the mattress, hands placed neatly in your lap. Jungkook thinks you appear cute; obedient.

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips. You feel hot at his actions, your mind hazy. “Put your head back.” Jungkook murmurs his command and again, you comply. Your neck is exposed to him. It’s bare from any blemishes and Jungkook thinks how you’d look with marks on you - purplish bruises and teeth marks, maybe even prints from his own hands around your neck.

“Open your mouth.” Jungkook says breathily. 

You gulp, but comply. You grunt when Jungkook's thumb dips inside of your mouth and presses it onto your tongue, slightly bringing it out. Then, he removes his tongue when he has you where he wants to. Your eyes watch as Jungkook pours the wine into your mouth slowly, the wine sliding onto your tongue and down your throat ever so slowly. Jungkook watches intently when a bit of the wine falls from the corner of your mouth and trails your neck just as slowly. 

You swallow the wine once Jungkook is done, your tongue licking the corner of your mouth and exhaling.

Jungkook drops the wine glass onto the floor by the bed where it was prior. He leans down close to your face, his breath tickling your skin. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

You nod slowly. It was only a peck - a kiss from a classmate - and that was the last kiss you’ve had. You were an idol now and couldn’t focus on dating.

“I see.” Jungkook hums, his lips pouting slightly. “So I suppose you don’t want to kiss me then.”

You released a low gasp. You blink a few times, unsure of what’s going on. You couldn’t have been this drunk, surely.

“Seonbaenim…” you murmur.

“I don’t think you want it enough, Y/N.” Jungkook tells you. He’s so close and your eyes have a difficult time focusing on him. “I’m trying to make you the true star I know you can be.”

“I do.” you exclaim, your hands clenching into your lap. You don’t want to upset him - to make Jungkook feel as if you were taking his assistance for granted.

Jungkook leans away from you and takes back his camera. He nods at you. “Prove it to me.” is all he says.

You glance at the camera in his hands and then up at him. He raises the camera once more, ready to begin snapping pictures. 

Maybe it was the wine getting to you. You didn’t have a lot of thoughts screaming at you to stop you from removing your shirt. You throw it aside, your eyes staring at the lens to reclaim the prior sex appeal. 

Jungkook doesn’t notice his breathing increase - not until you go to remove your leggings. It wasn’t as if you wore lingerie - Jungkook understood that this isn’t what you were expecting to do. But your appearance is captivating enough, a lacy bra with matching panties, both black. 

You do countless poses and Jungkook allows you, not once speaking. Your first pose was pushing your knees far apart and pushing your chest out. Your hands move slowly up your chest, a slight tilt to your head.

Jungkook doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten to you until his knees hit the mattress. Now, you’re on your back, slightly arching. Your eyes are on the camera and your breast is pushed towards the ceiling. You appear to be teasing him, Jungkook thinks, the way your fingers hook beneath your bra strap teasingly, as if you were daring to push them down.

“Seonbaenim…?” you murmur. You haven’t heard the camera shutter for the last few minutes. “Did I do good?”

Jungkook slowly smiles and nods his head. He presses a knee against the mattress, allowing himself to come closer to you. “You’re a good girl, Y/N.” he tells you, and your heart swells at the compliment. “Come here.”

You lift from the mattress as if in a trance. Jungkook lifts your chin with his index finger, his dark eyes staring into your own. 

“Tomorrow, we’re going to try the song again, okay?”

“Yes.” you nod.

“For now…” Jungkook leans a little closer, a few inches away. “...kiss me.”

You gulp. Opening your mouth to respond.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/N.” Jungkook interrupts before you can speak. “I need to know you’re serious about this. I won’t have you wasting my time.”

Your eyes widen and without thinking, you kiss Jungkook. Jungkook deepens the kiss, wanting nothing more than to hold you close to him. The thought of flipping you over runs through his mind, to grind into you until you’re begging him for more, but Jungkook refrains from doing son.

“I’m going to make you a star, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks once the kiss ends. “This comeback will be your moment. I’ll be sure of it.”

There’s something sinister about the way you allow Jaehyun to touch your head, Jungkook thinks. He pats it playfully, gently rubbing it. There’s a smile on his own lips as he greets you with a warm welcome.

What made it even more sinister to Jungkook was the way you appeared. You were smitten by his older friend. If this was a show, your eyes would’ve turned to the shape of hearts and a pink glow wouldn’t shine throughout you.

Jungkook leans back into his seat, tongue in cheek. With a tilt of his head, Jungkook has had enough - especially when you giggle at something Jaehyun has said.

“I don’t have all day.”

Your head snaps to Jungkook and quickly you bow and apologize. As you were arriving, Jaehyun was leaving, having visited Jungkook at the studio for a bit. He and you spoke, him giving you a greeting as you arrived.

Jaehyung hums as you sit besides Jungkook, the man's stare hard as you do so. Judging by your appearance, you were cowering besides the man.

“I’ll see you later, hyung.” Jungkook says to Jaehyun, dismissing his friend. “We have work to do.”

Jaehyun nods, his eyes flickering to you for a moment. He leaves without another word, the door shutting behind him quietly. 

“Do you take me for a joke, Y/N?”

Jungkook’s tone is vicious. It causes you to flinch at the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Seonbae-”

“Do you want to fuck him?” questions Jungkook, his voice changing to a softer tone. You swallow, eyes wide. “You want to lose your virginity to him? After I’m putting in the work to make you shine?”

“Seonbaenim, I don’t understand-”

“No, you don’t.” Jungkook snickers. “Don’t waste my time, Y/N. I’m the one that’s helping your comeback. Not anyone else.”

You nod your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook. He looks visibly upset, as if he was scolding a disobedient child. 

Jungkook sighs. “Look at me.” he tells you mellowly. His hand places itself on your own and gently squeezes. “I’m sorry for being so harsh on you, Y/N. You know I believe in you and your talent, right?”

You nod, not really sure if he did or not - but you didn’t want to disagree with him.

“I’d hate anyone to take advantage of you, Y/N. I know how men are. Especially in this industry. You’re a sweet girl.” his thumb rubs against your knuckles. “You have a certain look on you, you know?”

“What do you mean?” you question. Your eyes finally meet him once more. “Is that a bad thing?” you were beginning to feel self-conscious.

“No, of course not. You’re my good girl.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, lips forming into a warm smile. There’s something bubbling inside you at Jungkook words. “You have an innocent aura surrounding you. People would want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I see.” you murmur, slowing nodding. “Thank you, seonbaenim.”

“Jungkook.” Jungkook corrects. “You don’t have to be formal with me. We’re friends.”

You smile and Jungkook then releases your hand. “Okay. I’ve listened to your sister's part of the song and they’re good.”

You bite your lip. 

“That doesn’t mean yours isn’t good. It is. But…” Jungkook trails off. “I think you should give me more passion. Be more…sensual.”

“I-I can do that.” you shake your head to agree with him. 

“Okay.” says Jungkook. He points his head to the side. “You wanna record it?”

“Yes.” you inhale and exhale a few times as you enter the small room, the microphone placed in the middle of the room. You grasp the headphones and place it over your head. 

Jungkook’s eyes connected with yours as he played the instrumental. Your voice is good - you’re a great singer. But you needed to be more than a great singer to outshine your sisters. Initially, he wasn’t here to help you outshine them - but he promised you that you’d be a star - and Jungkook never went back on his promises. 

Jungkook turns the music off with a click. “More passion.” he says. “Again.”

Your voice hits his ears once more as he plays the instrumental. It’s melodic and he’s positive he can hear it again and again and again.

“Y/N.” Jungkook turns off the music once more. You visibly stiffen. Jungkook was a perfectionist naturally and he didn’t care how long it took for you to get it right - he would assure you did. “Sing to me. Sing as if I’m in there with you and be my good girl, okay?” Jungkook advised with a sigh. “I need to hear the sensuous tone in your voice.”

“Yes.” you murmur.

Once more, Jungkook starts the music. You close your eyes this time. Jungkook’s eyes made you nervous - they were piercing right through you. 

You began to sing, your mind traveling to the night in Jungkook’s bedroom - a night you never brought up to anyone, not even him. It was a night you wish to forget - the way you’ve acted towards him could be seen as disrespectful, even if he didn’t appear distraught by your action.

Your eyes snap open when you feel hands on your shoulders. The instrumental doesn’t stop, and neither do you. Jungkook is directly in front of you, hands on your shoulders. Those same piercing eyes are watching you, as if waiting for you to mess up.

You continue to sing just as Jungkook wants you to. He travels behind you, so close that there’s almost a pause in your singing - but you don’t stop. The hands on your shoulders begin to roll down until they’re cupping your waist. 

There’s a slight moan in the words you sing, and it’s exactly what Jungkook wants. He doesn’t stop there. His lips place themselves on your neck, his hands pressing you against him firmly. You continue to sing and Jungkook can see you through the mirror on the far right of the wall. Your eyes are closed and gently your body relaxes in his embrace.

The song is ending, Jungkook notes, and it’s the ending that he needs you to be the most sensual. Your skin is smooth beneath his palm. It works its way up your shirt and onto your covered breast. He grips it in the palm of his hands, the melodic moan music to his ears.

“Perfect.” Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck as you finish, your breathing heavy. He releases your breast and takes a step away from you. “You did amazing, my good girl.”

“Are you fucking him?”

You nearly choke on your water when the words hit your ears. You manage to swallow it somehow and your eyes turn to your manager. She’s leaning against the nearest wall from you, her glasses tilted down on her nose.

The room is silent, the conversation your sisters held with one another falls flat as their eyes cast between you and the manager.

“Why do you assume that?” your eldest sister says once you don’t respond, a horrified look upon your face.

“Jeon Jungkook has promoted this song countless times on all platforms.” your manager steps forward as she speaks. “He made a dance challenge to the song that now has thousands of people following suit. He speaks fondly of you and just you, Y/N. So please answer the question.”

Your group's comeback has officially begun, the song you had once struggled with has been released along with a music video. It’s only been a month since Jungkook and you recorded the song in the studio, and a week since the release of the song - but it was an instant hit. You recall watching the views go higher and higher alongside your sisters as did the following count on the social media platforms you two shared. 

Jungkook kept his promise on promoting not only the song, but you, as well. In interviews he spoke of how hardworking you were and how the song was one of his favorites, he participated in dancing to the song to promote it even further - you were becoming the star he said you would be. Now, your group became someone people wanted to follow and interview - you at the front of it all.

“They’re just friends.” your elder sister scoffs. “It’s nothing to look deeper into.”

Your eldest sister nods her head in agreement.

Your manager wasn’t convinced in the slightest. “Whatever you’re doing with Jeon Jungkook…” your manager eyes you for a moment, almost as if she didn’t believe a word your sisters said. “...Keep doing it. The song is doing amazing and we have people lining up for interviews.”

Your eldest sister is taken aback by the sudden change in tone. “You make it seem like Y/N is being friends with Jeon-ssi for fame.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You were becoming humid with the topic being about you.

“Jeon Jungkook is a big name in the industry, hell, globally.” your manager flips her glasses onto the bride of her nose. “Having a co-sign from him is a big deal. Don’t mess it up, Y/N.”

Your manager doesn’t wait for whatever response you or your sisters would give. She strolls out of the room. You’re left with your sisters, and now they fully turn to you. 

“What was that about?” your eldest sister asks. “You’re just friends with him right?”

“Of course.” you murmur, unable to look her in the eye. “He’s helped me so much.”

You know when your sisters want to say something - anything - but hold back. It’s in their eyes. They want to question you more about Jungkook and what your manager knows, but they don’t. 

“Okay.” your eldest sister nods. 

“We should probably get some rest. We have a hectic day tomorrow with-”

You lift from your seat and bow. “I’ll be going to my room.” you murmur.

You feel their eyes upon you, but you don’t bother to wait. Tomorrow was a big day and a hectic schedule neither of you were accustomed to. You didn’t take Jungkook’s promise that seriously - but it was as though he opened doors you never knew were possible.

You were meaning to meet with Jungkook tonight. His own schedule had gotten busier within the last month, and he had invited you over tonight of all nights for a celebration of sorts. “Soon, you’ll be on top.” Jungkook told you over the phone. “And maybe you can even make your solo debut.”

You were outside his home within a half an hour, pressing in the passcode he gave you. His home is quiet as you enter and you wonder what he was wanting to do tonight. You remove your shoes at the door and step deeper into his home, removing your jacket and placing it on a chair where you saw one of his own.

You hear light music coming from down the hall - his bedroom. You venture closer to the room, noticing the door slightly ajar. You peek your head through to greet Jungkook, after all he was expecting you.

You freeze in your tracks, your eyes slowly growing wider.

Jungkook sits at the edge of his bed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if you didn’t catch him masturbating - your eyes focusing on the way his right hand engulfs his cock entirely, jacking himself with such need. You can now hear that he’s moaning through the music, being closer than you were from down the hall. His eyes are closed and his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Y/N…”

Your breathing stilled at the sound of your name. Did he know you were there, watching like some type of creep?

“Seonbaenim…?” you say from behind the cracked door, and at the sound of your meek voice, Jungkook’s eyes snap open. You’re taken aback by the look in his dark eyes, and in that moment you realize that he didn’t know you were there, but instead had moaned your name.

Your feet react before your mind does. You take a few steps back until you hit the wall, startled to be caught watching him. You begin to sprint down the hall and towards the living area, falling to the nearest seat.

You hear the music stop and footsteps sounding, coming closer to you with each passing step.

“Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry, seonbaenim!” you cry, your eyes not looking his way. You’re humiliated and even more disrespectful for walking freely through his home. 

“Y/N-”

“I should have told you I was coming before I did-

“Y/N!” Jungkook hisses, his voice echoing off the walls of his home. You’re immediately silent, heart racing. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” he suddenly murmurs, lowering his tone to not further startle you. You feel his presence in front of you, but you’re far too humiliated to look at him. “Look at me.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe when you do. Jungkook’s lips turn to a small smile. “That’s my good girl.” he tells you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You don’t respond, far too consumed with your thoughts to do so.

“Hey,” Jungkook squats down to face you fully. “congratulations on the success of your song. It’s charting higher than songs from veteran groups.”

“Thank you, seon-” you stop yourself. “Jungkook.” you correct, understanding that he prefers you to call him by his name. 

“My good girl…my name always sounds sweet when you say it.” Jungkook offers a hand, waiting for you to take it. When you do hesitantly, he gets from his squatting position and lightly tugs you. “Come, I want to show you something.”

There’s an anxious feeling running through you when you’re led down the hall once more and back to Jungkook’s room. The lights are dimmer this time as you and he enter. He closes the door behind him and releases your hand. 

“I want to show you these.” Jungkook steps away from you and towards a bedside table. It’s a black folder that he opens and shows you.

Your hands take the folder, your eyes scanning over the pictures displayed inside of it.

It’s you.

It’s the same pictures Jungkook had taken a month prior, each picture becoming more vulgar as you skim through. Your hands are trembling, unsure of how you truly feel about seeing the pictures physically in the palm of your hands.

“Jungkook…”

Jungkook eyes your reaction. “Yes?”

You aren’t sure what you want to ask him. Thousands of questions run through your mind - why did he print the pictures out? Why does he want to show you? Has he shown anyone these pictures?

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snap up at him, your trembling hands coming to a halt. 

“You’ve done good.” says Jungkook. “Your concept photos came out amazing and it’s because of these.” he points to the folder in your hands. “Your group is doing amazing because of you.”

“You…think so?” you question in awe. Of course, the photos you’ve taken weren’t the same as these. The eyes you were giving the camera - or Jungkook - were those you’d see women give to men in the bedroom, not a photographer. You were nearly naked and these photos were similar to something from a porn magazine.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s hands are swift. He touches both sides of your face. “Look how beautiful you look in these. The song is charting now because of how beautiful you sounded.”

Jungkook’s compliment has your heart swelling. You close the folder and nod your head, a small smile forming onto your lips.

“My good girl.” murmurs Jungkook, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. “You want this, right?”

Jungkook’s words have a deeper meaning - one you weren’t sure about fully. Did you want this as in the fame that was quickly sneaking up on you and your group - the stardom he promised you? Or did you want something more that had to do with him personally?

“I want to help you, Y/N. I want to make you bigger than what you are now.”

“Bigger?”

“Bigger.” Jungkook nods. “I want you to be like us. We’ve sold out tours and traveled all over the world.”

You laugh at his words. It’s kind for Jungkook to want more for you, but even you know that’s not realistic. “I don’t think we can be as big as…BTS. Or you alone.”

Jungkook hums. “With you talking down about yourself, of course not.” Jungkook says. “I promised you that you’d be a star, right?”

“Yes.”

“You believe in me, right?” Jungkook drops his left hand from your face so that he can grasp the folder. He places it on his bed before turning back to you. 

“Of course I do.”

“You trust me?” Jungkook questions. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do trust you.”

Jungkook simpers. He lifts your chin, his eyes on your lips.

“How much do you trust me?”

You swallow.

 Your manager’s words come to your mind - whatever you were doing with Jungkook, to continue it. You trusted Jungkook a lot - he’s helped you so much without asking for anything in return. It was because of him that your song was charting and the sudden interest of people streaming, buying and participating in challenges.

“With everything.” you respond to Jungkook truthfully.

“Everything?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “Even with your body?”

“Keep doing it.” your manager's words replay over and over in your head. 

“You’re shying away.” Jungkook notes. Maybe he was too forward with you, but he couldn’t allow himself to care. He’s already been caught by you masturbating to just the thought of you. “I can’t help you if you don’t allow me to.”

You inhale deep, your eyes not leaving his. 

“You aren’t comfortable with me.”

“I am-”

“You aren’t.” Jungkook intercepts. “Are you comfortable giving yourself to Jaehyun?”

Your eyebrows knit together at Jungkook's words.

Jaehyun?

You shake your head.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.” Jungkook removes his hand from your chin and takes a step back. “You had heart eyes for him. While I sat there and helped you achieve success…you still haven’t given me those eyes.”

Jungkook turns away from you just as he says those words. You shake your head, reaching out for the man.

“I-I don’t want Jaehyun-ssi!” you exclaim. Your anxiety was peaking, fear running through you. You didn’t want to upset Jungkook or make him think you didn’t appreciate all the help he’s given you. “I’m sorry, seonbaenim.” your hand touches his bicep.

Jungkook turns back to you. Your eyes are low, but he can see the seriousness in them - you were apologetic. 

“I never…done anything with a man before.” you murmur, hot feeling all over. “I want to…” your heart is racing with what to say. “Keep doing it…keep doing it…” your manager’s words replay in your mind. “...I want to please you, seonbaenim. I want to be good for you, I just don’t know how.”

Jungkook is stunned for a moment, his eyes watching you intently. Then, there’s a smirk forming onto his lips.

Now, Jungkook had you where he wanted you - where you needed to be.

“You know you’re my good girl, Y/N.” Jungkook takes both of your hands in his and steps backwards towards his bed. He sits down and tugs for you to do the same - on top of him. “My good girl. Once I do this with you, you can’t do it with someone else.”

Jungkook’s hands are upon you, holding you close.

“I’m a man and I know how men are.” Jungkook murmurs, his lips close to your jawline. “They will use you until you have nothing left to give. They will take you to feed their own satisfaction and leave you.”

You release a gasp.

“I won’t do that to you, my good girl.” Jungkook’s hands dip beneath your shirt to feel your smooth skin. “You can always trust me. I’ll treat you right. I want more from you, unlike any other man.”

Jungkook wants to say especially Jaehyun - but he doesn’t want to come off as jealous. Jaehyun is his friend and understands that he holds no feelings or attraction towards you, he was just being friendly. However, he was also a man and in Jungkook’s eyes, any man can and will be competition.

Jungkook’ s lips are upon your skin, kissing your jawline. 

“Promise me, Y/N. That you’ll always be mine.”

Maybe it was selfish for Jungkook to ask from you, but he doesn’t care. He’s invested in you free of charge - he’s only asked for one thing. To have you fully for himself, all of you. He wants your love and devotion, your respect.

Your virginity. 

Jungkook wanted all of you. He wanted to be the first person who made you cum. He wanted to show you how pleasurable sex could be with the right person - him - and show you what he liked.

It’s what Jungkook deserves - he was going to make you a star. Your sisters could not compare to you and he would assure that you had it all. Soon, you’ll have brand deals and be an ambassador of whatever brand you desire - as long as you remain his.

“I promise.” you murmur, and it’s then that Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He kisses along your neck hungrily, as if he was a dog waiting to pounce at his favorite treat. 

You’re unsure what to do but allow Jungkook to take the lead. His hands roam your body, squeezing and grabbing everything he could with just two palms.

“You said you want to be good for me, right?” Jungkook says against your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin.

You nod, your body flushed with heat.

Jungkook leans back, his dark eyes on your face. “My pretty good girl.” he murmurs, the back of his hand stroking your chin. “I want you to strip for me like you did before.”

Jungkook’s eyes upon you cause you to freeze up. The horrified look on your face has Jungkook chuckling. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. You’ll have to learn to do this without any liquid courage.”

“Yes.” you murmur with a nod.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook breaths. 

Just Jungkook.

You take a deep breath, and before you can think too much into the fact that it was Jungkook, you begin to lift your shirt over your head. You discard it aside with a bite of your lip.

“I like black on your skin.” Jungkook compliments, touching up the fabric holding your breast together perfectly. 

“Thank you.” you respond cutely, voice low and meek. You remove yourself from Jungkook’s lap to remove your pants. They fall to the floor swiftly and you kick your feet to get out of it fully. 

Jungkook licks his lip before biting it. There’s an obvious tent in his sweats just at the sight of you. He thinks about what you’d look like in countless lingerie - high stockings that highline your legs, lacy material that teases him just in the right way. His mouth salivates at the endless possibilities.

It’s just Jungkook, you tell yourself. It’s just Jungkook - the same man who’s been so kind to you. Who’s helped you with your comeback, given you advice and assisted in gaining confidence. You don’t need to be self-conscious - even you can see how excited he was - but there was more than just self-confidence. You weren’t as experienced as you (assumed?) he was.

But, with Jungkook’s words flowing through your mind mixed with your managers, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You had to engage with him, you think.

“Seonbae…Jungkook��?”

Jungkook’s alert at the sound of his name. “Yes, baby?” he says without thinking, the amount of pet names he can call you is as endless as the amount of lingerie he wants to see you in. 

You swallow and turn away from him. “Can you help me take it off?”

Jungkook groaned and far too quickly did he stand on his feet to meet you. His hands are warm against your skin as he unclasps the bra. His hand slides down your bare spine, shuddering at how soft your skin is. Your bra falls next to your feet and slowly you turn around.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook’s words repeat in your mind. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook hums. “Kiss me.”

You do, your hands falling onto Jungkook’s chest as your lips touch his. 

Jungkook deepens the kiss with a moan. Having you nearly naked before him excites him like no other and he has to remember that this was your first time. He couldn’t be too rough or possessive with you (yet) like he wants to.

You yelp, eyes wide when you’re suddenly thrusted on the soft mattress. 

“You’ve never done anything with a man, right?” Jungkook’s fingers fall at your panties, touching the material between his fingertips. 

You nod.

“What have you ever thought about doing with…” Jungkook doesn’t say ‘a man’ because he doesn’t want to think of you having fantasies with someone that wasn’t him. “...me?”

Jungkook begins to pull at your panties, goosebumps running through his skin. 

You lift yourself from the bed so he can remove your panties. You’ve never thought about doing anything like this with Jungkook - not until the day in the studio. Having his hands on you, feeling his breath upon your skin - you felt ashamed of the perverted thoughts.

But now you don't need to feel ashamed. Jungkook wanted you - he wasn’t just a superior to you now. Soon he’d be the man you’d have sex with - and by your promise, the only man.

“Kissing you.” you respond, clenching your legs together.

“Done that.” Jungkook mumbles. “What did I say about being shy with me, Y/N?”

You loosen your grip on your thighs, allowing Jungkook to open your legs. He’s staring right at you, eyes never blinking. Your mind is screaming at you all at once - 2 minutes of not blinking and you want to tear yourself away from his firm grip.

“Jungkook.” 

Jungkook blinks, the moisture regaining back into his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook swallows. “I want you to sit on my face.” You cough, unsure if you heard Jungkook correctly. “What?”

“I want you to sit on my face.” Jungkook states matter-of-factly. “Your pussy’s very pretty-”

“Please stop.” you look up at the ceiling with a horrified groan. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” Jungkook lowers himself between your legs.  He sends a kiss on your inner thigh. “You’re going to be my girl, Y/N. You can’t close yourself off every time I give you a little compliment.” Jungkook kisses your thigh again, inching closer to your clit.

“I know…” you murmur. “You don’t have to be so…dirty about it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Dirty?” he shakes his head. “Dirty is telling you I want you to ride my face until you cum a good three times before I fuck you. But I’m not saying that, aren’t I?” Jungkook sends a quick peck against your clit, assuring to hold your thighs so you don’t close them on his head - but then again, he wouldn’t be opposed to that. 

You’re too stunned to speak, and Jungkook furrows a brow. “So?”

You swallow. “I…I’m supposed to be learning how to pleasure you.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “You think you can pleasure me without shying away?”

No, but you nod your head regardless. You were going to have to see Jungkook naked regardless - better now than later.

“Hmm.” Jungkook hums. His cock was begging to be released now. He goes to take off his shirt, lifting to his feet to do the same to his sweats.

 Your eyes try not to stare, but it’s difficult not to. You were beginning to realize why Jungkook was so confident - and just why he was so loved outside of his talents. 

Jungkook gets onto the bed, his back against the tall headboard. Your eyes glance at his cock then back up at him to find that he’s already looking at you. Quickly, you widen your eyes and turn away.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Jungkook laughs. 

You do so hesitantly. You’re having a hard time not looking at it - it’s erect and basically staring at you. It doesn’t help that you find it pretty - could dicks be pretty? He was cleanly groomed, veins wrapping around the length of it and the tip reminded you of a lollipop - red and suckable.

You mentally gasp at your mind at the moment.

“I’ll let you take the lead.” Jungkook says when you’re facing him, knees firmly against his bed. “I can talk you through it.”

You nod, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Wrap your hands around it.”

Your palms are sweaty, but you do as Jungkook insists. 

“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook widens his legs to get comfortable. “Good girl…now just stroke it up and down.”

You appear fascinated at doing this - maybe because your ears hear Jungkook’s breathing, followed by a few low groans. Or maybe because you were actually doing this with him.

Jungkook wants to be more vulgar - he wants to tell you to spit on it for lubrication, but there was more than a 50% chance that you’d cower at his words, so he opts to just watch you with hooded eyes. 

“C-Can I…?”

Jungkook nods his head, unsure truly what you meant but he was hoping it was what he thought you did. 

And it was.

You were awkward at first, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips, but the act alone has Jungkook pre-cumming, a salty substance touching your tongue. Your tongue reaches out to lick the tip, eyes glancing up to see a reaction.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t appear to be in pain.

You venture further, closing your own eyes to do anything, hoping the act would come natural to you. If you thought about his cock appearing like a lollipop, then the act would be the same then - as long as you remembered not to bite it in the end, you’d be good.

You begin to suck, continuing your stroking motion. Jungkook's head falls back against the headboard, biting his lip. He can’t look at you, he thinks, because if he does, he knows he would cum and he doesn’t want to cum yet - not in your mouth, at least. Another time, yes. 

But you’re sucking him so good that he can’t help but release a few moans of your name, a hand placing itself onto your head encouragingly. He knows now that you’re good for him - the perfect girl he needs to mold into the woman he knows you can be. He can make you a star that the world will love - and the whore behind the scenes just for him.

Jungkook forces you to go deeper until you feel the tip of his cock hit your uvula. It takes everything in you to not gag. You had to be good for him, you think. Your seonbae can be as good to you as you are to him.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook grips the back of your head. “So good for me…allowing me to fuck your mouth.”

You don’t realize your legs are clenching until there's friction. You can feel a string of drool coming from the corners of your lips, but you can’t care - there’s no time to. Jungkook’s thrusting into your mouth with such force and need, completely taking over whatever control he allowed you to have.

Jungkook continues to grunt. He won’t be lasting long and he truly does not want to come. He allows himself to look at you now - how filthy you looked with his cock shoved in your mouth. How there’s tears in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall and drool dripping down your chin. But yet and still, you were so beautiful, innocent, the pure look still in your eyes.

A look Jungkook couldn’t wait to ruin.

Jungkook yanks himself away from you the second he feels himself about to cum, his high slowly going down. He pants, clenching his teeth together. 

“My good girl…” Jungkook trails off. “I’m going to make you cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he pushes you against his mattress and forces your legs apart. 

“So wet.” Jungkook tsks, no longer holding back. His fingers meet your clit and he begins to rub.

Your hand automatically grips Jungkook's wrist, but he makes no movement to stop. Instead, he watches your wide eyes with his own, as if daring you to try to stop him.

The feeling is weird, but good. No one but your own fingers has touched you, and the foreign feeling was causing a bubbling effect in your stomach. Jungkook was experienced in this - he knew exactly what to do to get you squirming beneath him.

“So sweet.” Jungkook says after placing two fingers in his mouth. “Now I have to taste you.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you a moment, instead dipping his head down to capture your clit in his mouth. He lays his tongue flat on it and licks, flickering his tongue between your folds hungrily. 

Jungkook’s quick, both hands grabbing your thighs just as they were about to close. He forces them back, your knees hitting the mattress.

The sounds that could be heard are nothing but filthy - Jungkook’s suckling and groans, your moans and whimpers. You yourself don’t want to look between your legs, afraid that you’d catch eyes with Jungkook and lose yourself even more. But that didn’t mean Jungkook wasn’t going to. He enjoys watching you - every reaction is raw. You’re new to this, so that means that he was going to be the one that made you feel amazing; make you cum.

The thought alone excites Jungkook to no end.

Your pretty moans were music to Jungkook ears and he’s satisfied you no longer hid them from him. His pretty girl, he thinks. Once so innocent and shy now laid on his bed, begging for more - and more he’d give you. To think that in the eyes of the public, he could never call you what you were (his, yet…) but he knew just like you knew. 

Jungkook pushes back from your clit to enter two fingers inside of you. You were tight and he’s certain you’d need to be stretched out before he could fuck you. ‘Relax, pretty girl.” he mumbles when you flinch. “It’ll feel good. Just be good for me.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to pump. He’s slow at first, testing you, eyes on your reaction before he can truly fuck his fingers inside of you.

You bite your lips and quiver your legs. “I don’t think I can-”

“You can take it, Y/N.”

You wish you had the confidence in yourself that Jungkook held for you. You hold back your words in an attempt to just that - take it. But it was hard. You were feeling like Jungkook's fingers were stretching you out in a way you’ve never been - and you were beginning to second guess if you wanted his cock inside of you.

“My pretty girl, so tight for me.” Jungkook speaks more to himself than to you. His eyes zone in on his fingers pumping in and out of you, your juices coating his fingers. He groans - you’re clenching around him so perfectly that he cannot wait to feel you for himself.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Jungkook snickers when he hears the faintest moan from your lips. “My good girl.”

Jungkook curls his fingers inside of you, pumping even deeper. Jungkook leans down to capture your lips with him on, his pumping never stopping. His tongue coats your bottom lip, forcing it open so he can dominate your own.

“Jungk-kook-”

Jungkook’s tongue licks the side of your cheek, wet and warm. It drags to your jaw to your neck and dips down between your breasts. Still pumping inside of you - understanding that you’ll be cumming soon, he captures a nipple. 

Jungkook loves the sweet noises you’re making - who knew something so shy could be so filthy when the time came. No one but him would know. His tongue flicks your nipples teasingly, the hardened bud enjoying being toyed with. 

“Please stop, Jungkook. I can’t-”

Jungkook bites (only gently) your nipple to silence you. His thumb rubs your clit encouragingly. “It’s okay, baby. You’re about to cum. Just let loose.”

This wasn’t cumming - you’ve never experienced this before. You’ve touched yourself many times and this wasn’t what it felt like. Your toes are curling and slowly your back arches. You couldn’t take it anymore - not with Jungkook’s suckling on your breast, as well.

Jungkook has to see it for himself. He lets your nipple pop from his lips and his eyes zone in on your clenching pussy, sopping wet for him. He allows a few more pumps before he removes his fingers, juices leaking out of you at a rapid pace. Your thighs are quivering, but you can feel relief wash over you now that it’s done. 

“I told you to stop.” you whimper, the familiar hot sensation running through you. “I wouldn’t have done that-”

“You never told me to stop.” Jungkook interrupts. He wraps a hand around his erect cock, wishing he could fuck into you right now. “Besides, you loved it.” he slaps it against your clit, gently rubbing it between your folds.

You swallow. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“But you can.” Jungkook continues to rub against your clit. “I don’t ask for a lot, do I?”

You clench around nothing, but you fear yourself becoming overstimulated. “No.” you respond meekly. 

“Exactly.” Jungkook pants. “Such a wet pussy my good girl has.” he says vulgarly. “Don’t you think it’s selfish of you to deny me pleasure after all I’ve done for you?”

Jungkook slaps his cock against your clit, continuing. “I’ve helped you with everything. You have shows lined up because of me, Y/N. They’re not interested in your group. They’re interested in you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I could be an asshole and sue and say I deserve writing credits to the song. I was in the studio, wasn’t I?” Jungkook circles his tip at your wet entrance. “But I haven’t. I’ve done everything I could to assure you’ve achieved greatness and it’s as if giving me the one thing I ask for is too much.”

“Seonbaenim…” your voice trails off, heart beating rapidly at his words. 

“You don’t respect me as your superior, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. “If I didn’t care for you, I would’ve taken you a long time ago. I wouldn't have given you any form of pleasure because I would only be thinking of my own.”

You’re taken aback by his words, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.

“No other man in this industry is going to love or respect you the way that I do. They’ll use you until you have nothing left to give. Then, you’ll just be damaged goods.” 

You’re so beautiful, Jungkook thinks, even when his cruel words show on your face. But he was an honest man, after all. Who’d want you once you weren’t a young, naive virgin willing to please? No one but him - which is why he needed to be the one to have you all to himself. 

It was only right, Jungkook thinks. 

“You don’t want that, right, pretty girl?” Jungkook offers a kind smile, his words not matching it. “You already promised you’ll be mine and mine alone. Right?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

���Say it, Y/N. Say you’ll only be mine.”

Jungkook needed a confirmation - more for himself. He didn’t want you to come back and regret anything because you gave him full consent.

“I’ll only be yours.”

Jungkook hums with satisfaction. “That’s right, baby. Only mine. Turn around.” Jungkook instructs, helping you do so. He arches your back, hand against your back so your chest is against the mattress. 

“Seonbae?” you quip feeling Jungkook’s cock against your hole, reading to pounce any given moment. “I-I don’t have any protection.”

Jungkook furrows a brow. “Okay?”

“Do you?” you swallow, throat feeling dry.

“For you, no.” Jungkook laughs, a genuine laugh as if he couldn’t believe your words. “We’ve already gone through this, Y/N. You’re my girl.”

“But-”

“Why do I need to use protection if you’re my girl? What is the protection for?” Jungkook was growing impatient.

You bite your lip. You and he were a part of the same industry - both idols with jobs you had to do. “I can’t get pregnant, seonbae.” you whisper, embarrassed that it’s something you had to say. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Getting pregnant by me is an honor, Y/N.” he says, his tone a bit snappy. You didn’t mean to offend him. “Maybe if I get you pregnant then you’ll know just who you belong to.” he says the last part more harshly, hand gripping your waist with such force. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I know what to do. You won’t get pregnant.” Yet - he promised you stardom and he never went back on his promises. 

Your fingers clench the bed sheets when you feel Jungkook enter you. The feeling is far more intense - more than his fingers. It’s not as if Jungkook made it any easier. He had no intentions of going easy on you now - not after you’ve attempted to deny him access to you. A condom was a slap in the face - after all the work he’s put in to assure he fulfilled his promise to you.

“Jung…kook…” your eyes are clenched shut, body jerking away from him.

“Stop running away.” Jungkook snarls, jerking you back against him. You’re so tight, clenching around him heavenly. “You’ll feel good soon, pretty girl. I promise.”

Soon came, but not fast enough. You were being stretched out so savagely that you contemplated if it would be like this everytime you and he had sex. You’re positive that your hips would have bruises on them with how tight Jungkook grips them, keeping you in place.

Jungkook pants, his eyes watching the way your ass bounces against him in astonishment. For a virgin, you had a slutty body that only he’d be able to have.

“It feels good now, doesn’t it?” Jungkook snickers. “I can feel you clenching around me even tighter. I told you it would.”

Jungkook’s slamming into your sweet spot, pressing against it with each passing thrust. He can’t wait to fuck you the entire night until he couldn’t anymore. He wants you in every position possible, not caring if you had to be up the following morning early - because right now, you were his and his alone. 

Jungkook hovers above you, both of his hands atop yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his lips against your ears. “My pretty good girl. Aren’t you happy I chose you?” his teeth nibble your ear playfully. “Out of all the women I can have. I chose you. Tell me you’re happy.”

“I’m…I’m happy.” you moan, eyes fluttering with how deep he is in this position. 

You were happy.

You’ve accepted that this was your fate now - you were going to please Jungkook and in return, you’d have what you wanted. A career and someone you respected by your side as much as he was willing to be. 

“So good for me.” Jungkook murmurs. “Kiss me.”

You strain your neck, but you do as Jungkook says. Your moans die down against his lips, but he has all night to hear your moans.

And Jungkook does. He fucks into you each and every time, not caring about the exhausted look in your face. He flips you onto your back, your knees against your shoulders and cums deep inside of you. He allows you on top, but only he has control, your cunt filled to the brim with even more cum, but he isn’t finished until you’re begging him for a break - but how could he want to stop? He’s waited so long for you that he has a few more rounds in before he’s satisfied.

“Pretty girl.” Jungkook simpers at your condition - nearly unconscious and full of his cum. “Here.”

Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. As much as he enjoys cumming inside of you, he had a promise to fulfill before he can allow you to carry his child. “Can’t have you getting pregnant at the height of your career, can’t we?”

Jungkook hands you a water bottle and a small pill. Your words are inaudible, but he has a clue of what the question is. 

“Contraceptive.” Jungkook assists in having you take it. “I’ll get you some birth control pills tomorrow.”

You swallow the pill and nod, falling against the mattress. You were far too exhausted to speak, only wanting to sleep.

Jungkook brings you closer to him, your head against his chest while his hands rub along your back softly. Gently, he presses a kiss to your head. “Aren’t you happy you have me as happy as I am to have you, Y/N? he murmurs, knowing that you’ve already fallen to slumber. “No other man is going to treat you as good as I am.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, satisfied with the good deed he has done not only for him, but for you, as well.

[herstarburststories]

sitting on gator tillman's face to shut him the fuck up.

a/n: I know this is lateee, I'll post two kinktobers today and two tomorrow to get on the right track of the days. beware> oral sex (female receiving), hate/love relationship, mentions of humping, and dirty talk

Gator Tillman gets on your nerves sometimes.

No, scratch that. He always gets on your nerves. You don’t know what irks you most about him: the stupid smirk; that disgusting vape; his baseless facede of confidence; the constant teasing sarcasm in his words, if he were incapable of taking anything seriously; or, maybe, it was how he was so impossibly gorgeous even when he was bleeding out. 

Gator irritates you more than any other being, from the poor excuse of a politicians to the stupid policimen that you face from time to time at the station.

So, it’s good to finally shut up his mouth. Even better, you’d put it for a good use for once.

His brown eyes glow and widen as he looks up to you, naked body impatient on the mattress as he nibbles on his bottom lip in anticipation. Tillman's cock is already hard only from making out and some humping. It’s so easy to get him all worked up for you.

You throw your shirt away, and Gator lets out a quiet grunt his response. His idiotic lips are parted slightly as he watches your tits. You aren’t wearing a bra and fuck, he just wants to touch you, but for right now, this isn’t about him. Well, not directly.

This is about how furious you are because Gator Tilmman has no right to make you feel like a high school girl discovering how a crush felt. You were always surrounded by a light-hearted feeling that made you want to do a dumb thing like kiss his smoke lips in the back of a bar or jump in front of a bullet to save his ungrateful ass.

How did you, of all people, develop a crush for Gator? Gator is, well, Gator! – a pathetic, cocky son of a bitch. Come on, you’re smarter than that! You’ve gotta be a masochist. 

Nonetheless, you get rid of your pants and underwear, pussy almost dripping for this idiot. Tillman whimpers at the sight, licking his lips. The only thoughts revolving around in his head are: I need to taste you.

''Fuck.''

You glance at him, the beginnings of a smile lightening your features. The big, bad deputy certainly doesn’t have the usual arrogant look on his face now.

You still have your boots on when you climb on top of the bed, and Gator doesn’t seem to care one bit. If anything, his livid, chocolate orbs catch a glimpse of you, naked and climbing on top of him, only wearing those fucking boots. He gulps, not remembering the last time he’s been this turned on. He is a goner.

You place your hands on his shoulders, and you’re sitting on his legs. The wetness of your needy cunt makes a mess there. Part of you wants to ride his thigh, rubbing until you achieve your share of relief. You have a thought or two about just taking his length inside you — how couldn’t you? The tip of his hardness is pressing against your belly, his desire palpable from the precum sluicing your skin. When Gator groans, it’s almost silent; animalistic, even. He grabs your hip as if you were his. God, you want to be, but not today.

Tillman leans in to capture your mouth in another savage kiss, but you pull back. He gives you a confused look. “Wh--”

“That's not where I want your mouth.”

At first, his eyes go wild and you can see him swallwing, salivating, And then, Gator offers your that malicious grin. It’s filled to the brim with confidence. “Well, dollface,” he breathes, and you groan at the stupid nickname he probably gives to every single woman he meets. Son of a bitch. “What’s it to you, then? You want me to get on top of you so I can fuck you nice and slow?” You are about to laugh at his face over the implication of being dominated by him, but Gator's fingers slide into a clandestine meeting with your clit, carefully caressing it as if you were lovers. All you can do now is sink your nails into his skin and moan, shamefully loud. “Or you want to ride my thigh? Come without even touching my cock like a good slut?”

That wasn’t your plan, but it felt so good. If Tillman's fingers are that heavenly, fucking his cock might turn you into a goddess, but you can’t.

You aren’t going to give in that easily. He tried to give you orders through the whole day at the station. The others might have a high tolerance for moods of Roy Tillman's son, but you don’t. You’re going to teach him a thing or two about shutting the hell up.

You push his hand away, your body aching as if you broke a bone. Yet, you persevered as you took a deep breath and grinned impishly at Gator, devouring the despair in his eyes when he no longer has his hand on you.

“You talk way too much, Tillman.” Your fingertips trace a line from his jaw to his neck, trailing down his chest; always following his foolish, adorable freckles. You catch a glimpse of goosebumps rising under your touch. It only causes your smirk to go wider. Gator is glaring at you with raised brows, and you push him to lay on his back.

His cock twitching is proof enough that he enjoyed that.

You press your warmth on his length, retracting your hips when he tried to get inside you. Gator lets out a beautiful, frustrated grunt.

“Dollface...” Now that’s better. And suddenly he’s groaning your name, fully aware only you are giving him pleasure. This is personal, this is dwindling, it’s everything you both have been craving.

“You talk too much, Gator. Always trying to look like the fucking man in the room” You’re basically climbing on him now, your pussy enjoying the small relief of friction from Tillman's hips, his stomach, his chest. You opt to sit there. “Someone should shut you up.”

Gator wishes he could answer. He wants to smirk at you, bring up other teasing comments only to get more of this. You are frisky and dominant – everything his body and soul begged for. Yet, he can’t bring himself to do anything other than lean his head forward in an attempt to catch your pussy with his lips. You smell so good. He can’t wait to taste you. He just wants to eat you out, but you pull away from him with a laugh as if you found amusement in his suffering. Fuck, he’s getting even harder

Gator Tillman is so touch-starved for anything you’re willing to give him.

You rise from his chest, your wetness leaving him soaked. He can’t complain, though. Not when you blessed him with the sight of paradise.

That’s it, Gator decides. Your cunt is the best thing he has ever seen, and he needs to toy with it.

Because you’re over his head, literally. Knees to the mattress on each side of his head, your pussy is right on his face, so appetizing and wet all for him.

“Dollface..” he tries, but you are quick to stop him. It’s a good thing. He’d probably make a fool out of himself from begging to let him touch you, just a little.

“Shh, sweetheart. Just shut up.” Gator barely catches a glimpse of pleasure for that before you sit on his face. “Now eat me out.”

Nevermind, this is his heaven.

You bite your lower lip, trying to regain some composure as you coil your fingers around the bedpost, nails pressed so strenuously into the hardwood there that you wouldn’t be surprised if you left marks carved there. What else are you supposed to do? Gator doesn’t waste any time when you sit on his face, eating you out like you’re a fucking meal and he’s a starving man. His chin and lips and nose are all wet from you.

This man is fucking hungry for you.

“I knew that pretty mouth of yours could go to good use, baby,” you mumbled amidst his pornographic groans, grinding your hips down to ride his face. Gator shoves his tongue inside your warmth, finding comfort between your tight walls.

He pulls away, but only because he needs to breathe. Tillman nibbles on your inner thigh, smirking when you whine for him. So gorgeous and delicious. He gets your clit between his teeth carefully — this isn’t supposed to hurt.

You inhale sharply, looking down to catch him in the act. He looks so hot like his, eating you out with his viridescent gaze fixed on your face as if you were his grand enlightenment. You look like everything he never thought he could have when you were like this: sitting on his face and giving yourself to him, glancing at Gator with your hands fixed on the headboard and tresses of your hair falling on your face.

After this, he has to kiss you some more. He just has to.

For now, though, the deputy is more than happy eating out his prey. He enjoys every aspect of this. You taste as if you were made to be this good for him. The tip of his tongue brushes your G-spot, and he can’t wait for you to come. 

The idea of tasting your orgasm makes his cock ache deeply in the best ways possible. Gator's freaking sure he’s about to come untouched because of your needy cunt.

He licks your clit before enveloping you with his lips, sucking on you at your neediest. You begin to lose your cognitive senses, melting into a screaming mess and pressing your pussy closer to him. Tillman is almost suffocating, and he couldn’t be happier. 

Your thighs tighten around his ears, a cry leaving your lips as Gator focuses all his attention on your clit. He only pauses to sink his tongue into your warm wetness before coming back to your sensitive spot.

You clutch the bedpost as if you are holding onto dear life as you come all over Gator's face. He tries to catch all of you — not because he doesn’t want to get dirty, but because he ain’t gonna miss one single drop of your juice. 

You taste so fucking good, much better than anything he has ever put on his tongue. Tillman is an addict now, and he can’t get enough of your cunt, your cum, or you.

He licks you clean, getting the most he can of you, and you whine through the intense sensation of freedom that comes with it. Fuck Gator and his spoiled tongue.

You get up with trembling legs. Your hand slides to find his hard cock and offer what relief you can, but you just find milky come on his stomach.

Did he come only from eating you out?

Holy fuck.

You make the mistake of looking at his face after that realization. He’s breathless, glancing at you and licking your juices off his lips. He looks flushed and satisfied, smirking with dimpled cheeks. You can see your come on his chin and nose. “Remind me to never stop talking if this is how you’re gonna shut me up.”

request for kinktober. reblogs and comments are magic. ♡

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Criminal ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Kidnapping.

Little gift for the New Year! Hope you guys like it :)

--

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose specialty is small robberies of convenience stores and bodegas, nothing that goes beyond that.

That also means that money is tight, it’s hard enough to cover for the insanely high rent, let alone cover for monthly groceries, water and electricity bills.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who’s fucking tired of sitting in his dark shitty apartment, smoking a blunt in hopes of deceiving the hunger that rumbles in his stomach. 

He lays back on his second-hand couch, eyes following the gray ropes of smoke that ascend from his lips, mind racing on every possible way of making money fast.

His rent is due in a week and his fridge is desolately empty, aside from a bottle of water. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who gets restless and in the spur of the moment, decides to head out on a walk around his block. Maybe that’ll give him some ideas or distract him from the ache in his stomach. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal barely takes a few steps into the street when he sees you. 

A pretty girl walking down the street, eyes nervously darting towards every shadow that moves. 

What are you doing out in the dark street at such hours?

It’s way past midnight, as the old watch in his wrist tells him. That’s not time for a girl like you to be out, especially not his neighborhood at least.

You’re lucky that no one has approached you yet or you wouldn’t be looking so damn cute right now. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose interest is spiked when he notices the clothes you’re wearing under the dim moonlight.

The short dress only long enough to cover your ass, the high stiletto heels clicking on the dirty floor at each step you take. 

You’re looking like a serious sex-bomb in those clothes, despite the scaredy expression covering your dolled-up face. 

But a second look at your body has him squinting his eyes, brain engines rolling as he examines your outfit.

Is that a fucking Prada cocktail dress? And the heels that you’re wearing Louboutins? The fancy purse, a Channel limited edition? It’s got to be daddy’s money, cause that face of yours isn’t giving smart vibes.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly knows this is destiny.

You were sent to him for a reason. And the reason is that you’re his new bank account. 

You have to be, otherwise it would’ve been some disgusting scumbag to find you first. 

He wastes no time in reaching out for you. He knows he’s not bad looking, high-cheekbones and lustrous dark hair. Hopefully that works in his favor. 

And it certainly does, a kind expression on his face as he offers you help. You immediately accept - so fucking naive, you poor dumb thing - immediately blabbering that your phone lost battery and that you’re sooo late to his super-chick party whose address you’re not entirely sure of. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who nods, pretending to understand all your issues. Slapping his face as he remembers that - oh, yeah, he kinda forgot his phone in his apartment. Maybe you’d want to come with him while he grabs it?

It’s not safe for you to be out here, on your own. Dangerous neighborhood and all of that.

And you follow him right away, like a lost duckling. It’s so easy, a smirk creeping on his face when you enter his apartment.  

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly pounces on you, dragging you by the hair to his bedroom, a new found adrenaline running down his body.

You shriek and cry out loudly so he’s forced to push some old cloths on your mouth, using duct tape.

Honestly, he’s not even that worried about you getting away cause you’re barely able to put any fight. You’re a weak little thing, aren’t you?

◾ Yandere!Criminal who only waits a day before contacting mommy and daddy, demanding a good amount of green for them to be able to retrieve you.

He thinks a lot about how’s it gonna play out, creating a plan that sounds pretty much bullet-proof.

He gets easily distracted by you, eyes greedily running over your body. The dress doing even less to cover you in the daytime light, the make-up smudged and half-disappearing, revealing a younger – cuter – face.

You’re relatively obedient too, toning down your hysterical cries after he harshly yelled at you. He could bet that if he put on a mean face and threatened you, you’d probably suck him off. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who finally gets his money, a large grin opening up in his face as he receives the cash. More than enough for him to move into a fancy mansion on a private neighborhood and retire for the rest of his days. 

No more stealing, no more spending his days worried about rent or food. Now he can finally sip on a freshly-made margarita and relax by the infinity-pool of his new house, the sunny rays hitting his toned skin. 

Maybe after he’s done with his drink, he’ll go pay you a visit. You’re still adapting to your new house - and him, hence why he’s keeping you in a tight leash (literally). 

Now you’re all his. His little ATM.

[littlereddream]

Under Heavy Rot

You didn’t realize the apartment you were crashing in was already occupied, but the dead have already gathered outside and you’re too injured to fight any off. It helps that the stranger living in there isn’t so keen on kicking you out there with them, even if he did just have a gun to your head.

Warnings: zombie apocalypse au, similar to the walking dead but no prior knowledge required, also no spoilers here for the show. No characters from the show are featured here either. mild zombie apocalypse typical gore, all your normal apocalyptic warnings, gn reader

Every step you take burns like hell, pain shooting from your foot up, up, up all the way into your knee. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, how long since your last camp was completely overtaken by the living dead. You’d thought it was safe, that it was impossible for them to cross the river without being swept away.

It was foolishly easy to let your guard down there, things settling into a peaceful routine. Life became peaceful. In the mornings, you’d even collect eggs from the chickens and bring them to the cook. Friendships with other survivors led to lively dinners around the campfire, filling the air with story after story.

You should’ve realized something was off when you woke up to distant snarls outside your tent instead of the familiar rooster’s crow.

In everyone’s rush to scatter, you’d been so focused on getting out of there that you’d forgotten about one of the camp’s main defenses. It was a matter of luck that you hadn’t lost your foot entirely to the bear trap, thanks to a woman with a hatchet being kind enough to pry you free before escaping with her family.

You’d been lucky then. But now? The longer you go without treating the wound leaves you more and more susceptible to infection.

Half a day’s walking has you wandering into one of the city’s nicer neighborhoods. It’s unusually nice for Gotham, but it makes sense for being on the city’s outskirts. You can’t help but imagine it’s history before the outbreak. While walking, you can see a rusted basketball hoop on one of the driveways. It’s easy enough to imagine neighborhood kids playing, laughing while their parents watch them from the porch over fresh barbecue.

You head up the front steps of a place two houses down from there, wedging your knife into door’s crack until it’s creaking open with a quiet click.

Maybe it’s the pain, or maybe you’re just exhausted from the day. Whichever it is causes you to step inside without checking every corner. Three steps in, and the door is slamming shut behind you.

“Don’t move.”

The familiar click of a weapon’s safety coming off.

There’s near silent shuffling behind you, measured footsteps too practiced to tell where the voice is coming from.

“Drop the knife.”

So screwed. So stupid. You were gonna die. This man is gonna kill you and it’s all gonna be because you couldn’t clear a room.

Your knife drops from your fingers, landing on the ground with a clatter.

“Now kick it away.”

You do, and with it goes your last chance of defense.

You take the chance to turn around, slow as you can. Whatever you were expecting to see, it’s far from what’s stood in front of you. The guy might have a gun pointed at your head, but you’re injured, not blind. This would make it the first time you’ve met somebody who pulls off the post apocalyptic look so well.

“Is that a bite?” He asks, gaze flickering to your foot.

Right. Words.

You’re quick to shake your head. “No. No, just got caught in a trap.”

He relaxes a little, but it’s almost immediately after that both of you are flinching. His weapon flies to point at the door, and your hands clench reflexively around your now empty knife sheath. A car alarm.

The stranger swears, clipping his pistol back into his belt before slipping into the closest room. There’s some rustling coming from inside, but you take the momentary distraction to lean against a wall, shifting weight off your injured leg.

“So,” you begin, uncertain,” I really didn’t know anyone was staying in here. I can go find another house to crash, seriously.”

He’s back, carrying a chair to shove in front of the double door, wedged underneath the doorknobs.

“No leaving,” he states, absolute with no room for negotiation.

You raise a brow at him when he glances back at you, but he just gestures towards the peephole. Cautious, hand as close as you can get it to the hilt of your knife without actually drawing it, you stumble forward. It’s hard to ignore the way the stranger’s eyes linger on your ankle, but you lean in to look outside anyway.

You’d thought it was bad at the camp. At least a dozen walkers tore away at your closest friends.

More than two dozen herded together outside. Half of them were climbing over each other, clawing at the empty car for any bit of medal their fingers would catch on. The other half walk aimlessly, twitching at every little sound that could mean another bite to eat.

You lean away from the door, thankful to find the stranger hasn’t moved a single inch out of place. His arms are crossed over his chest, almost smug in a way like he’s daring you to take your chances outside.

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on his kitchen table while he’s got a chair pulled up in front of you, your ankle cradled in his hands.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

His thumb brushes over the corners of the wound, and your fingers grip the table’s edge a little tighter.

“Sorry.” The fingers pull back, reaching for the wet towel to your left. “It’s Jason.”

Jason cleans the wound as gently as he can, whispering quiet apologies for every sound of pain that leaves your lips. You tell him your own name through gritted teeth, and he seems to accept it as forgiveness for the necessary pain.

Once your ankle is fully wrapped, he carefully pulls down the hem of your pant leg to cover it. For a second, neither of you move. His hands stay there, and you don’t bother pulling your foot away.

Then he’s pushing his seat back to stand, clearing his throat.

“There’s an empty bedroom upstairs. You can stay here till your ankle heals. If you really want to leave, then at least wait till the herd clears up,” he suggests, rushing to clean up all the leftover medical supplies.

You stay till the herd leaves. Then you stay a little longer. Eventually, you can walk without any pain at all. You stay anyway.

Then you’re completely healed up and Jason suggests you stay a little longer. “Just in case,” he says.

Then it’s been a month and the only time you’ve ever brought up leaving, he looked at you like the option never even crossed his mind. You stay a little longer.

During a supply run, Jason kisses you. You got attacked by three walkers, backed up into a shelf of a nearby corner store.

Later, Jason blames it on the adrenaline from saving you. Later, he apologizes and promises that it won’t happen again.

But in that moment, with his calloused hands cupping your jaw, his breath shared with yours, leaving stops crossing your mind too.

Two weeks after, you learn that Jason can’t ever make good on a promise that involves staying away from you. Two weeks later, you kiss him first and he returns it with all the fervor of a starved dog.

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [prologue] (myg)

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst, fluff, smut summary: you've always thought you had it way too easy. all of a sudden, your life seems to be taking a few unexpected turns. it's time your luck ran out. word count: 1.4k warnings: none, you're all good > : )

The soft whirring sound of the radiator echoed through your cozy apartment.

It’s homey and comforting to hear the constant hum in the background. Sometimes, you’d leave the window open for the cold air to enter your space just so you had an excuse to use your radiator.

Still, you ought to get that fixed up before your ex-boyfriend lectures you about getting a new one already.

It was one of those days when time seemed to have slowed down. As you folded your daughter’s fresh laundry, you went over your tasks for the day.

You were in no hurry because for once, you had everything together.

The living room bathed in the sun’s golden hue.

Your daughter sat on her favourite spongy floor mat, completely absorbed in creating her new art piece. Her fingers were covered in pink, purple and white paint.

Momentarily pausing, you take note of what type of paint she used.

Acrylic.

You sigh. That would be a pain to clean off.

After putting away the laundered clothes, you remind your daughter to get into the bath.  

You stood in front of her with your hand on your hips, “Nao, do you want mommy to run you a warm bath or would you rather shower?”

She simply hums.

“Mommy needs to shower too. You better get in there…” You walk away after adding, “Before I do.”

At that, Naomi instantaneously stops and rushes into the bath.

Naomi was a lot like you. She hated using wet bathrooms, as do you. But motherhood had changed you. Now, you’d do just about anything for your daughter.

As if you just remembered, you yelp, “Hold on! Let me clean the paint off of you first.”

You didn’t want your pristine white bathroom tiles to stain.

After bathing and dressing your daughter in a sage green cotton dress that you stitched yourself, you decide to let her watch TV even though it isn’t time for that just yet.

“Is daddy coming to get me today?” Naomi’s enthusiastic voice stopped you. It’s a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand, you’re happy that your daughter’s happy, on the other, you’re reminded that Yoongi and you aren’t together anymore.

“Of course, he is. It’s Friday!” You match her tone. She perks up and resumes watching the Barbie movie you put on for her.

Naomi would be distracted for a good thirty minutes now.

That does not leave you a lot of time for your ‘everything’ shower, but you were aiming high either way.

While in the shower, you let your thoughts wander to Yoongi.

He suggested you have dinner together because he had a few things to discuss with you.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s probably something about his upcoming business trip. You’ve got everything covered either way.

Your breakup was… inevitable. It wasn’t mutual at first, but you knew it’s where you were headed to.

After five years of dating, while simultaneously parenting Naomi, you wanted to get married. Yoongi didn’t.

You yearned for the validation and commitment of marriage, while Yoongi held steadfast to his belief against it. He refused to confine himself to a traditional marriage.

When you opened up to him about your insecurities about him leaving you for someone else, he grappled to reassure and console you. It worked for about a month.

Your differences, once manageable, had now grown into impossible divides, creating a rift that stretched beyond mere disagreement.

Self-doubt and a lack of validation destroyed your relationship.

The water had almost run cold by the time you finished your shower routine.

You pick out a sage green dress for yourself, similar to Naomi’s, just longer.

In no hurry, you moisturize and blow-dry your hair.

Even though you’re broken up, you still try to dress up for him. You don’t know why.

Apart from some lingering stares, there hasn’t been any sign of a reconciliation since you broke up. Yet, you always try to look good for him.

Although, that’s just who you are. You’d dress up for anyone. But, it’s still different with Yoongi. You especially enjoy his compliments.

The doorbell rang, forcing you to hurry and spritz on the first perfume bottle you touch.

“Don’t open the door! You don’t know who it is!” You warn Naomi, but to no avail.

He’s early today.

Naomi races you to the door, “It’s daddy!” You let her win. You rush to tidy up the living room as you walk to the door.

“You’re so early!” Your daughter clings to his leg. Yoongi laughs and drags his foot in.

“How are my girls feeling?” He smirks at you. “A little troubled now that you’re here.” You bicker.

Yoongi vocalizes a groan, “Why’s mommy so mean to daddy?” He directs it to Naomi.

You smile and wait by the coat hanger stand to receive his jacket.

The apartment feels a little livelier every time he stops by.

“Why are you here so soon? I haven’t even begun cooking yet.” You walk into your kitchen to quickly gather ingredients to prepare a fresh pasta dough.

“No reason.” Yoongi cleared his throat, “Let me help you cook.” You gladly accept his help.

You assign both Nao and Yoongi to make the sauce and the salad.

Soon, your kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans and laughter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

After dinner, Naomi spends time watching TV and working on her masterpiece.

In the serene quiet of your kitchen, the clinking of dishes echoed softly as you and Yoongi worked in unison, a familiar rhythm of cleaning up after a shared meal.

The warmth of the evening meal lingered; the comforting ambiance contrasted with the weight of the impending conversation.

Yoongi sighed for the fifth time that evening before you finally asked him, “What is it you wanted to talk about? Is everything okay?”

As you wiped a bowl dry, you stole a glance at Yoongi, noticing the hint of unease in his demeanour. Your heart fluttered with a sense of foreboding, sensing something amiss.

Yoongi paused for a moment; his hands still submerged in soapy water. "I... I have something I need to tell you."

You laughed uneasily, “I know. Spit it out already. You’re worrying me.”

The air around you felt heavier.

You set down the dishcloth, turning to face him, a sense of apprehension settling in.

Yoongi stared back into your eyes.

"I... I'm getting engaged," Yoongi finally uttered, his words hanging heavily in the air.

WHAT?

The world seemed to pause for a moment as you tried to process his words.

Your chest tightened, emotions swirling within you—a mix of surprise, disbelief, and an (un)expected pang of sorrow.

You searched his eyes for reassurance, for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

"Engaged?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

You’re hoping he misspoke. Maybe he’s getting engraved or encased or embraced.

Yoongi nodded, his expression a blend of remorse and an unspoken plea for understanding. "It's been on my mind for a while."

“Has it, now?” You scoffed.

WOW, really?

You didn’t even know he was seeing someone like that.

Even though you’re broken up, you feel cheated on in some way.

“I don’t know what to say.” You deadpan.

Your conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of Naomi's laughter, a stark reminder of the delicate balance you maintained for your daughter's sake.

"I wanted you to know first," Yoongi added softly, his eyes a mosaic of regret and an unspoken apology. One that you don’t want to acknowledge or accept.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look down at your floral dishcloth.

You have a lot of questions but you don’t really want answers to all of them.

Yoongi feels ashamed of himself. But he knew he’d have to have this conversation with you someday. The sooner the better. He thoroughly beat himself up for this too.

You excused yourself promptly, “I’ll check on Nao.” Yoongi simply nodded.

Alone in the quiet of the short hallway that connects the kitchen to your living room, you leaned against the wall. A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself against the ache in your chest.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ in my dreams by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: this is a self-indulgent drabble series i'm writing, nothing is planned and i'll just write as i go

i hope u guys enjoy it!

find the series masterlist here.

[mamayan]

★LOVE★

Darling! Hisoka Morow x Yandere! Reader

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Noncon turned Dubcon • Yandere Themes • Murder • Emotional Instability • Yandere! Reader • Drug usage • HC • PIV

This is not “reader” inclusive as I’d assume nearly 99.9% of you do not exhibit true yandere traits. This is written with a female yandere in mind. No other physical descriptors will be used, but “reader” will have psychological descriptors and habits which will likely not match the majority. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you!

To become so obsessed with a psychotic mass murdering clown magician like Hisoka, you’d need to be a special breed. Harley Quinn style if you will, but incorporating an even more massively unhealthy level of adoration and blindness.

Since Hisoka is a whimsical sociopath and amoral character, it’d likely attract someone that is… surprisingly selfless and mildly antisocial. His attitude and way of life likely trigger feelings of envy and jealousy at first within you. Why does he get to be so carefree? Why can’t you just slaughter your entire place of work when they piss you off?

So starts the morbid curiosity. Who is Hisoka Morow?

You’d see him in passing a time or two, maybe you’d even witness him kill or target an individual in battle. You’d stay undetected by Hisoka. This requires great skill in nen-ability and you’d likely be a pro-Hunter or something along those lines. You’d need to be incredibly powerful and a good strategist to have Hisoka as a darling. Specializing in stealth/tracking/spying would all do you well in aiding to observe stalk Hisoka.

He’d take a life so easily it’d stun you. His lack of remorse after even more. How does he feel so little? Why is he so easily aroused in battle? Why can’t you look away? Rationality will need to take a backseat in this budding crush you have. It won’t bloom into what you call “love” until he does something that speaks to you personally.

It’ll be entirely mundane too.

He’ll do one thing that will capture your heart. Maybe it’s when he spares Gon and Killua. He’d claim it’s because they’ll make worthy opponents later. You’ll see it as something else.

Once your feelings for him are established, it’s impossible to find fault with him anymore. Everything he does is perfect, utterly adorable and fascinating, and he’s a silly kitten who can do no wrong in your mind. His clawed finger nails are proof that the most harm he can do is claw up some curtains.

Hisoka is constantly on the move, traveling often and usually very light. He does have a few spaces he uses more like storage than actual living quarters. This where you spend time when you aren’t observing him. Going through his things, envisioning a future with him, imagining him tied to the bed.

You’ll be delusional but no so much you believe you can have him without force. Wild cats are hard to tame after all, and a superiority complex over Hisoka will begin to develop the longer you watch and learn about him. You’ll likely have dug up all the skeletons of his past. You believe you know him best, who else understands him so well but you?

This dig includes any lovers or even potential lovers. They’re in the way and need to be gotten rid of. You can’t let them ruin him now can you?

Finding all of his past lovers isn’t easy, especially without alerting him to anything suspicious at first. Thankfully, despite his track record of murders, his love life is stale at best. A few hookups when he was younger, no long term relationships, but he does have a notable relationship with a female from the Phantom Troupe.

Machi, a beautiful woman which Hisoka blatantly flirts with. More than the usual too, it holds a level of sexual tension which invokes unparalleled rage inside you. It’s ironically not directed at Machi, but she’ll bear the brunt of it anyway.

Hisoka is given both a sick and delightful surprise when Machi’s severed head is delivered to his hotel suite in a box. A love poem hand written by you in it, but it’s a warning for him too.

It’s a grotesque combination, but it’ll most certainly catch his attention. A bouquet might’ve sufficed too, but Hisoka will now know of your existence. He doesn’t think this is a love note though, he thinks this is revenge. He’ll be angry too, because whether Machi was ever a real love rival or not, she was someone he wanted to fight. His designated prey was caught and killed before he even had a true chance of tasting victory over them. That must mean you are an even better treat.

It’ll drive you wild seeing how desperate he becomes to track you down and find you. He comes close a few times too, but always just out of reach. His real niche laying in combat unlike you. It feels romantic in a sense, and it’ll drive the fantasy further that you two are meant to be together. He’s meant to be yours isn’t he? As you begin leaving even more obvious hints of your presence in his life, he’ll realize it’s not revenge you’re seeking.

He’ll figure out he’s got a perverted little stalker when he finds your cute lace panties left for him to find. No need to mention you’d touched yourself on his bed to the thought of him and came in them. It’ll be fairly obvious from the fact that he hasn’t been to this particular hideout in a while and it’s spotless. No dust. Everything perfect, but he didn’t clean before he left this one. Then he’ll see on the unmade bed, a clear sign of a woman having intruded and marked the area. Strands of your hair. Your scent. Your clothes.

Still, he won’t catch you. He’ll bait you too, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve been caught only to realize he just knows he’s always being watched now. He doesn’t know your exact location or if you actually are there. “I liked your gift… hmm, but it would’ve been a nicer surprise to see you in them~” he’s flirtation and goading. It’ll be difficult to resist him, when he’s seemingly speaking straight at you. You know the moment you reveal yourself though, he’s not going to drop to his knees and offer himself to you. It’ll be a battle on sight. Though the thought of him getting aroused because of fighting you… makes you itch to throw caution to the wind.

Instead you clear any and all traces of your presence for several long months, until Hisoka grows avidly annoyed and then slowly disinterested, moving on to other opponents and amusements. Being in your line of work means a very much endless cash flow, the resources available to keep up with your favorite pass time of just watching him in all his glory. He’s perfection, even as his face twists up into a manic monstrous expression as he slaughters his victims, you see nothing but an angel. Never mind the screams and begging for mercy, isn’t he so cute when he plays a magic trick for them? It’s easy to become overwhelmed with jealously occasionally, but you’re good at being patient and reminding yourself that person isn’t special, Hisoka is just entertaining himself.

It’s also hard to remind yourself you aren’t special either. While it takes a certain sense of superiority over a darling to develop yandere tendencies, you’re also affected by an inferiority complex about the world. This means you’re isolated in how you interact with the world, no close friends or relatives, no real hobbies outside of what assists you with your work, hardly any social interactions that aren’t required. This is what makes Hisoka so fascinating, and it’s also what starts your real downward spiral to depravity.

What makes you truly snap and lose control to your yandere tendencies , is nothing other than Hisoka himself.

He’s coming down from a recent high of a fight in Heaven’s Arena, only showing up due to being challenged as a floor master, but the fight had been surprisingly up to his standards. His opponent was both entertaining and thrilling until their end. He was in a good mood, a very good one, so when a spectator approached him batting their lashes and hinting at spending the night in his suite… he said yes.

That was strike one.

Strike two was the audacity of the piece of shit throwing themself at him. You carefully followed, silent and untraceable as sexual tension began to rise in the elevator all three of you shared. Only they thought it was just them.

Strike three. Wasn’t your presence at least somewhat obvious? It’s highly delusional on your end to become enraged at other’s ignorance to your presence despite your mastery of hiding it. It’s what allowed you to watch Hisoka so long after all, but illogical as it is, you were still pissed. Furious at both of them but now mostly at Hisoka. Who was leaning over them, letting his height and teeth aching sugary tone seduce this common stray off the street like they were his personal favorite. They weren’t. He didn’t have any real favorites. Only toys that were disposable and this was no different but it didn’t matter because he was yours. And it seemed he needed to learn this.

Even Hisoka can be taken off guard, especially with his pants feeling too tight and the piece of ass before him being all to eager to please.

He’s unconscious when you finally reveal yourself. The deafening scream echoing throughout the elevator as it finally reached Hisoka’s designated floor and opening. Unfortunately for the poor soul screaming who was just looking to get laid, you weren’t in the mood to grant them anything less than a brutal death.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut shut up!” Your fist broke bone with each strike, until your victim lay unrecognizable and very dead. You’d released your nen, and every nen user in this entire Arena now knows you’re here, all because anger got the best of you.

It didn’t matter, because even with the corpse at your feet, you were still furious.

You took both Hisoka and the body out of the elevator and swiftly worked to clean up the damage and fluids. You didn’t need the Arena fining you again. Hisoka was out cold, but he’s quick to recover so you work on getting him into his suite and bed, working his wrists into nen blocking steel cuffs. He’s spread like a star fish, each limb hooked to the fancy bed posts. You muttered anxiously as you dug around your bag, hands shaking as you pulled out a small leather pouch about the size of your palm.

It might seem overkill, but chaining and drugging ensured your personal safety once he woke up.

Never mind the fact that you could just leave after disposing of the body. Your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing as you looked upon his unconscious body on the bed prevented you from acting within reason. No, you wanted him to see you, if for no other reason than to establish where he was.

Beneath you.

Hiding your presence and that of the corpse, you quickly left the building with Hisoka’s key card to properly rid yourself of the responsibility and allow yourself to fully focus on Hisoka.

Returning was quick and painless, this time not revealing your presence until back in Hisoka’s suite.

His face was angelic while he slept, though his head would likely ache from the powerful blow you landed to the back to get him in this state. You contented yourself with just watching him for the next hour or so, until with no warning, he woke up. It was odd how he didn’t even twitch. Just suddenly aware of his situation and surroundings, alertness to his features immediately. You wished it was a sleepier and cuter wake up, but you still found it adorable how on guard he was instantly.

Those lovely gold orbs landed on you and narrowed, despite his sly smile. He might appear relaxed and languid for someone chained up and hardly able to move their body due to relaxants circulating their system, but you knew he was furious. Hisoka, as much as he loves playing with others, hates being played with. You stayed silent, letting him observe and calculate, allowing him time to run through his options and every plausible scenario.

“Well… good morning Ms. Stalker.” His airy words sent visible shivers down your spine, his eyes and focus, for the first time entirely on you. He also seemed to note your reaction, his smile sharp and predatory. “Oh? You like the nickname? Bad girl… don’t you know not to play with magic?” He tested his restraints, with surprisingly more strength than you thought he’d have after injecting him. He’d require another dose then. You were quick to work on that, his eyes tracking your movements and realizing your objective.

“Not even going to let me play?” He didn’t resist as you sterilized his arm before injecting him with a fourth dose. Three should’ve been enough to tranquilize an elephant but Hisoka wasn’t a normal human. He flexed his hands and twisted his wrists, copying the same with his feet and ankles. The cuffs were made specifically for him. You’d kindly taken off his shoes and socks, but his shirt and pants remained on. You felt your throat constrict and thighs clench at the thought of him naked. You’d already seen it a multitude of times but he hadn’t known you did. Watching him shower and change so shamelessly.

“You look ready to eat me. Is that what this is dear? You got jealous when I brought another up here?” His nickname for you threw you off, your eyes widening and meeting his teasing gaze. He looked sinfully beautiful like this, at your mercy yet still so him. You licked your lips, feeling mildly nervous now that you were about to speak to him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up though.

“Yes,” he paused when you finally answered, “I…I was very jealous.” Your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, the material bunching as the earlier annoyance was brought back to your attention. You grimaced, “This wasn’t really how I intended for you to meet me for the first.”

“Oh? But we’re here nonetheless aren’t we?” His tone was a bit snarky, but he was correct. What did you do now? Make every little fantasy you had come true?

“How about this, yes? You take these off and I give you a painless death. Isn’t that nice of me?” His words have your eyes snapping up to his face, his words not matching his sweet expression. He wanted to kill you? Not even fight? You frowned, a low boiling of rage in the pit of your stomach.

“You think you hold any power here?” You sneered back at him, walking to look down at his sorry figure chained up and at your mercy. He was being a brat. You backhanded him swiftly, his head cracking to the side at the force and momentum. His pale skin already reddening as a small trail of blood tricked down his chin. His gaze was on fire as he turned back to look up at you. Defiant and piercing, but his smile never wavered. “How about this, Hisoka, you stay right where you are, and maybe I’ll be nice and let you finish tonight.” His eyes widened, a small moment of shock taking over his features but he quickly schooled them again.

You began undressing swift, throwing your clothes to the floor until you were only in your underwear. Your chest heaved, nipples tightening under the cool air of the room and Hisoka’s gaze. You couldn’t place his expression exactly, a combination of desire and rage most likely. You climbed atop the bed and thus him, knees on either side of his hips as you made light work of his shirt. Shredding the garment and tossing it to join your clothes. His pants were next, now both of you almost completely naked and staring at one another.

“Is this your idea of a good time Ms. Stalker? Tying up innocent magicians and having your way with them?” You laugh at this sentence, because it was silly to think too much about. He was still being light and teasing but he was exuding a little bit of bloodlust.

“No Hisoka, my idea of a good time is just you in general.” You placed a cold hand on his abdomen, sliding it up gently until it reached his throat. “Watching you, hearing you, smelling you…” your eyes trailed up his naked torso to his lips for a moment, before connecting your gazes. “This is your fault really. I didn’t ask to be haunted by you, I didn’t ask to feel like this, I didn’t ask to want someone so badly I’d gladly watch this word burn if it meant you’d be entirely mine.” It was a deeply disturbing confession. You sat down, right over his erection where you could grind your pussy against him and elicit a beautiful hiss of pleasure and pain from him. “I can’t, oh, I can’t decide if I want to own you or be you really,” you panted, beginning a slow rock of your hips as your arousal soared. The object of all your affection beneath you, looking so much like a cat being bathed it brought a small smile to your lips. This was all turning you on, and he seemed to also be enjoying himself somewhat.

“I very much would love to humor you dear, but I really do recommend you remove these.” He dropped his facade, his expression turning dark as he realized how unlikely you were to release him. You were clearly deranged, maybe more so than himself. He tugged against his chains, the rattling echoing around the room but it only served to make you amused. Despite his words, his hips had begun to lightly buck up into you now. Both of your underwear soaked through, a combination of your slick and his precum. His voice and tone sent your hormones flying to cloud nine, your face starting to look intoxicated as you gazed down at him with obsession.

“You say you want them off but do you really want this to end? I could just… leave you here. All night. Maybe I’ll come back just to make sure you, haah, stay hard?” You were panting and a little sweaty, breasts heaving as you became more intoxicated by the moment and him. You looked spelled bound and he looked downright menacing. Of course, because out of all things, Hisoka likes control. His flirtatious attitude can not be mistaken as submissive, but here you were forcing him into such a role. Threatening him with a punishment if he didn’t behave like a dog.

It made him want to bite you like one.

“Pretty Ms. Stalker could’ve told me she wanted her little pussy filled, no need to go to such lengths-tss!” He flinched when you finally fished his cock free, your soft cool hand a striking contrast to his pulsing hot shaft.

“You’re so pretty Hisoka.” You were lost to your own fantasies, not really registering his words anymore. He realized it quickly as you focused all your attention on his leaking cock, impressed by the size and girth. It would hurt, taking him, but the thought of stretching around him was driving you wild.

But first… you dropped your chest low and opened your mouth. Your tongue had him groaning low, the sound of his teeth grinding together had you even wetter than before. You licked from base to tip, slow and sensual. He tasted sweet. Not salty or bitter like you imagined and it had you quickly and messily taking him into your mouth.

For all you were, you weren’t experienced. This was your first blowjob but you prayed not your last, because as you choked and gagged to take more him, he was losing it himself. What you lacked in experience and skill, you were making up for in enthusiasm and pure need to please. Observing his reactions as you let his tip finally sink into your throat even as tears pricked your eyes and fell down your cheeks. It burned and ached, but you pushed the pain down as you watched him. He finally gave in and kept your gaze as you worked to make him cum, sucking and taking him as deep into your throat as you could. You were making an absolute mess of his cock and balls, slobbering all over him. It was erotic and truly enticing, and the only indication he was close was the twitch of his lip and his hips trying to make you take even more of him.

You tried to get all of him in your throat when he came, but you failed by an inch or so. You stayed still as his hot cum coated your throat and mouth, moaning at his musky sweet flavor and making sure to suck and milk him for any leftover until he was choking on his own moans for you.

You made sure to clean him up nicely, licking and making sure even his balls weren’t missed. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you nearly passed out at the sight.

He was slightly sweaty, breathing a little heavier with half lidded eyes glaring and grinning viciously at you. His cheeks flushed, the left slightly bruised from your earlier hit. His lips red and bitten, a bit of blood still leftover on his chin. He looked gorgeous. You couldn’t be blamed when you were stumbling off the bed to grab your camera from your bag. No need to turn the flash off since he knows of your presence now.

He scowls as you snap his picture, looking beautiful and ruined just for you.

“I- sorry- I just need this okay?” You set the camera down, eager to return and continue touching him and exploring.

He snorted, looking at you in disbelief with mild amusement. “Is that so? You needed to photograph me naked?”

“What? No. I have lots of those already. I wanted one of your face after I made you cum.” He seemed flabbergasted at your answer, but you couldn’t help your eager hands from cupping his cheeks and leaned down over his face. “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.” You told him honestly, his expression relaxing into something neutral as he observes you. Fine by you, as you begin kissing his face, hair, cheek you hit and then his neck. You lick and suck over his pulse, enjoying the masculine groan as you mark him up and lick his sweat. You’re trembling as you wiggle down to his chest, playing with his nipples. Swirling your tongue elicits the best response, his back arching lightly and proving your theory that his nipples are sensitive.

His hardening cock beneath you all the proof you need, your own nipples pebbled and aching as you drag your chest against his while you work.

When he bucks up again underneath you, you finally release his nipple with a pop. Looking at his tossed and adorably fucked appearance, you shiver. His hair messy from throwing his head into the pillows. You licked your lips, finally clumsily trying to get out of your underwear but failing because of your position. With a huff of annoyance you just tore them off, finally completely naked and slightly embarrassed by his stare.

It hardly mattered if he liked what he saw, you weren’t so far gone that you thought you looked anything like his earlier willing catch which you’d crushed- “Pretty thing aren’t you?” You paused your internal rambling when he spoke. His voice low and husky, not as flirtatious and teasing like his usual tone. You’d never heard him use this voice before, you eyes meeting his with curiosity.

He chuckled, but his bloodlust from earlier was gone like it had never happened, “What’s wrong? You were so eager just a moment ago, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Is Ms. Stalker a virgin?”

His goading voice was back, covering up his earlier tone like it’d been a mistake. Though you were surprised he hit the nail on the head. You were a virgin. Not because you lacked people willing to fuck you, but because you lacked interpersonal skills to have a normal relationship. Intimacy terrified you before you’d fallen for Hisoka, but after it was all you seemed to want. To touch him, feel him, make him feel good. You wanted him desperately.

“I won’t be much longer.” You looked away and solidified your resolve as you moved to hover above him again, your dripping cunt begging to be filled. You balanced using one hand on his hip, the other gripping his once more hard cock and lining him up with your entrance. You let his tip brush through your sensitive folds as you shakily released a breath. You took one small peak at his face, his eyes watching you like how a hawk might watch it’s prey.

You let his tip breach your entrance, no surprise that it stung. You didn’t prep yourself at all, and though you were wet enough, you wished you’d thought to carry a little lube in case this scenario ever occurred. It didn’t matter though because even if it hurt you were being connected to him and it made your chest swell with pride and happiness.

“Fuck, you’re tight- ah” he threw his head back and grit his teeth again, your gummy walls simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. It had him close already embarrassingly enough. The pleasure and pain mind numbing.

You’d only taken half of him but it was leaving you breathless, “m’trying” you could only gasp as you struggled to push more of him in, tears pricking your eyes once more as the pure stretch of his cock inside you was turning your brain off. It hurt but it felt good too.

“If you take these off, I’ll happily finish the job you’ve started dear~” Despite his tone, his face looked just as aroused and strained as your own. It was tempting, but deep down you really didn’t trust him. It came from knowing him that you didn’t trust him in the least. You shook your head, denying his prompting. His laugh is dark, even as his hips surge up to force another few inches into you. You cry out, bracing against his chest as you fall forward a bit. He does it again, sinking into you until finally you feel your hips meet and his tip kiss deeply into your cervix. You lay panting against his chest for a moment as his cock pulses inside you, your body pathetically struggling to adjust to his size.

“Take them off while I’m being nice.” He’s not asking, but still you shake your head and push yourself up, moaning as he sinks even deeper. Your hips take on an unsteady rhythm, testing the depth that feels the best but his hips throw you off each time you find the perfect angle. The stretch and friction drive you wild, your mind numbing to the pain and pleasure as you feel the coil inside you close to snapping.

“Feels good~” your moaning loudly, face fucked out and teary eyes locking with Hisoka’s. His eyes are burning, face scrunched up in frustration because your pace isn’t quite fast enough, nor is he hitting as deep as he’d like. His chains clink against the steel posts, you’re too distracted though to pay attention as you desperately work your hips towards your finish, bouncing on his dick. “M’gonna cum Hisoka” your deliriously close, the coil right about to snap-

When his chains do first.

“Huh,” You only get a split second to panic before he’s on you, breaking each steel bedpost and freeing his movement up again. His cuffs are still secured for a second but it’s meaningless a moment later when they shatter. His nen stored up enough to cancel their purpose of restraining him despite how much you’d paid that specialist who guaranteed no one could get out of them. Never mind that he should still be drugged up enough to he struggling to move at all.

You find your positions switched, your back hitting the mattress as you gaze up into his eyes now.

It’s silent for a moment, save your own pounding heart and icy fear now filling your veins. He just… looks at you. His face blank, eyes calculating but just when you decide it’s best to fight than let him slaughter you like this, he laughs.

Not like normal. This is borderline hysterical laughter, his hand wrapping around his torso as he howls with laughter.

Before you can activate your ability, he’s got a hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing just enough to warn you. “Did you think this would all just work out how you wanted dear?” You were scared, that was true, but as he nudged your thighs apart and dragged his still hard cock through your folds teasingly, you realized you were also horrifically aroused too.

All of your fantasies had you on top, because you didn’t trust him not to kill you if he was, if he even wanted to willingly touch you at all.

“Look at you~ poor thing,” he’s mockingly sweet as he leans over you, long tongue coming out to lick your tears off your cheek. As he leaned back, you truly didn’t expect his hand to leave your neck and slap you across the face. The sting follows after his hit lands, but it shocks you silly more than it actually hurts. You don’t have too long to think before he’s shoving himself back in, and your too far gone to stop the orgasm that slams into you. “Wait!” It too late even as you cry out, hands desperately grabbing on to something to anchor you. Him.

He hisses, face vicious as he stares down at you, “Did you really just cum?” His voice somewhat incredulous as he feels you twitch and writhe beneath him. He stayed still, letting you shakily come down from your high before he’s rocking into you.

Then he’s fucking you just how he likes. Hands gripping your hips in a death grip as he slams himself into your overstimulated cunt over and over. He leaves you mewling and fucked stupid beneath him as he mercilessly thrusts into you like a rag doll. You can’t keep up. Can hardly speak besides useless babbling, only making him laugh and sarcastically mock you for it.

“What’s wrong dear? Isn’t this what you wanted? Am I just so deep inside you~?” Cooing as you nod and cry harder.

It’s when he kisses you that you cum again. He tastes like bubblegum and you’re gone, creaming his cock as his tongue tangled with you own messily. It all feels too good, your arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist, while you just struggle to take it. His tip pounding away in a spot that has you gasping and sobbing below him, because despite everything, this is the most pleasure you’d ever felt. It was disorienting and left you mildly numb, his sharp claws trailing down your chest softly to settle his thumb over your clit and press until you came again.

This one was slightly painful, your muscles constricting so hard Hisoka finally fell over the edge himself. His moans so pretty, soft and deep as his hips still move despite him emptying himself inside you.

He recovers first, staring down at the pretty thing in his arms struggling to catch her breath.

You’d given quite the headache for a while now, but tonight really took everything up a notch. You certainly weren’t halfhearted, something of which he respected. You weren’t a weak thing either, his thrusts harsh enough to break a normal human’s hips, but you just looked fucked stupid. It was cruel of him to be so rough, but then again you’d really brought it on yourself hadn’t you?

You’d brought all this onto yourself, and whatever happened in the future too.

Because now he was a little hooked as well, and you were just too cute and interesting to leave alone now that he’s tasted you. Had you first.

He easily reached over to snag your camera, switching it on and snapping a picture of you still shaking and twitching with his cock still buried inside you and beginning to grow hard again.

Realization dawned on you, but even as you tried to move and get away from him, he had your wrist locked above your head to stop that nonsense.

“Nu-uh dear, I’m not finished. Not even a little.” His lustful gaze and sadistic smirk had you looking like a frightened animal, but it only served to rile him up further.

It’s after all, your fault for loving someone like him, right?

It’s important to note that once Hisoka becomes interested, he treasures it. But something he treasures one day can become trash the next… until you.

Hisoka is surprisingly a willing darling. Don’t think this reverses any roles, he’s not submissive to you in the slightest. He acts like a total brat but he’s dominant through and through, don’t expect to ride him unless he’s got full control to just fuck up into you.

He’s needier than you’d expect too. Not just with sex, that’s constant, but also in just having your company. He likes when you talk to him, interact with him, don’t expect to go back into observing from the sidelines. He’s all to happy to give you front row seats.

He’s just as jealous as you are, but he’ll purposely play into your jealousy by flirting with other women to rile you up. He just likes how you look enraged, finds it cute. If you do the same, he’ll make that individual sit tied to a chair while he fucks you in front of them until you can’t even apologize anymore. Then he’ll kill them. He welcomes the same treatment. You get a bit shy acting it out.

Bonnie and Clyde duo!

He’s not a yandere, though he gets jealous, he’s just a psychopath in general. He’ll still be Hisoka no matter what. While you can interact normally with others when necessary, your fixation on him will remain an outlier. Hisoka is just trash to everyone, and surprisingly decent to you. By your low standards.

He likes ice-cream and ice-cream dates. He’s an ice-cream date man.

Illumi doesn’t understand your relationship but respects your devotion. Wonders why more women can’t be like you. Hisoka likes that his friend is envious of what he has.

Enjoy your darling, he’s frustrating and difficult but all yours now!

Dividers by @benkeibear

[mysaintkitten]

smut with cillian murphy at the golden globes? am i crazy?

Claim Your Prize | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

!!disclaimer!! this fic does Not represent Cillian as a person, we love and support Yvonne here. this is simply for fun/fantasy! :3

WARNINGS: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public-ish sex, mirrors are involved, kind of sweet sex i think lol, creampie (of course)

“And the award goes to …”

A moment of silence and anticipation fills the room as the announcers carefully pry open the envelop containing the winners name. Beneath the table, you anxiously grab Cillian’s hand. He squeezes it gently in response.

“Cillian Murphy!”

As soon as his name escapes their lips, a wave of relief and appreciation crash over you. Finally, the most hardworking man you know is getting the admiration he deserves.

The people around you clap and cheer, and before Cillian heads up to accept his award you give him a quick hug and a kiss. A brief glimpse into the intimacy the two of you regularly share, yet are never public about it.

It then all becomes a beautiful, hectic blur. As cillian stands in front of everyone accepting his award, he seems to find all the right words to say, and all the right ways to say it. All you can do is stand back and watch him, giving him your utmost respect as he gives his thanks.

When his speech is over and the announcers move on to the next category, you get up from your table to meet Cillian half way. Since the rooms so tightly packed, the best route along the outer edges. As soon as he makes you out in the crowd he smiles happily at you, his eyes beaming with energy and gratitude.

Once you’re face to face, he hugs you again, tighter, finally getting a chance to hold you like he’d initially wanted to when they first announce his win.

Whilst getting ready earlier, you couldn’t help but brainstorm different ways to “reward” Cillian if he won. He isn’t very materialistic, and you knew that the only thing he truly wanted from you was your support, to stand by him whether he won or lost.

But you wanted more, you had to give him something you knew he needed after all these gruelling months of seemingly endless work.

So, after slipping into your dress for the event, you slipped off your panties directly after. Wanting Cillian to have as easy access as possible if he wins.

And now you’re here, wearing no panties underneath your dress, while hugging your winner of a husband.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper softly in his ear, turning your head a bit more to give him a kiss on the cheek, “so proud.”

He hums back, briefly nuzzling into your kisses before copying your gestures and kissing you on the cheek, leaving small quick pecks until he ended up back at your lips where he kissed you properly.

The kiss is passionate, warm, not yet sexual but you knew how easily it could fall into that territory.

“I have a gift for you,” you purr in his ear before dragging your fingers along his back, planting a small kiss on his neck and then pulling away.

“What is it?” Cillian asks, earnestly curious, he looks down for a moment but quickly realizes you aren’t carrying anything with you. With a mischievous grin, you grab his hand and lead him away to a private area. You’re able to sneak away quite easily, everyone else is much too fixated on the next winner anyway.

The hallways are vacant for the most part, a few scattered workers here and there, but all you’re thinking about is getting Cillian alone.

Whilst roaming the halls, you spot the bathroom. A unisex, single bathroom. Although it’s not ideal, it’s the best you’ll find in a place like this. Once Cillian sees where you’re heading, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what your “gift” may entail.

After taking one more good look around, you decide the coast is clear enough and you both sneak into the bathroom before promptly locking the door.

It’s nothing special. A toilet, a sink, a mirror, what you’d normally expect to find in a bathroom. Luckily for you, the room had clearly just been cleaned. The counters and mirrors were spotless, and it smelt faintly of lemon and fresh laundry.

You swiftly turn around to face Cillian, placing your hands on the counter behind you, that sneaky little grin still spread across your lips.

With an equally naughty smile, Cillian presses his body against yours, him too placing his hands on the counter.

“So, what kind of gift does my lovely wife have in mind?” Cillian teases, kissing you gently on the lips, his voice lowers before he speaks again. “One that we need to be all alone for …”

The warmth between your legs intensifies, and the pressure of his body alone is enough to make your brain fuzzy. You drape your arms around his neck, briefly running your fingers through his hair.

“Just wanted to give you a little something that I know you’ve been missing,” you coo innocently, “something that you deserve after all this long …”

You pause for effect,

“And hard …” your voice becomes breathier as bring an arm down off his neck and snake it between your bodies, your grasp landing between his legs to palm him through his trousers, “work.”

Cillian growls, deeply inhaling your sweet and comforting smell, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Quickly, Cillian turns you around, your hips now against the edge of the counter top. And now, you’re met with your own reflection. Both you and Cill with flushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, your makeup smeared around the edges of your lips while Cillian’s have a faint red-ish hue from your lipstick.

“I’ve missed this, too,” you sigh as your arousal stirs within you, at this point you don’t doubt that your wetness has made its way to your inner thighs. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“S’all thanks to you, really …” Cillian groans against your neck, kissing the skin hungrily. “You’re the only thing that’s kept me fuckin’ sane throughout all of this.”

“Cill …” you giggle at his sweet words, your fingers carding through his hair while he stands behind you, his grip on your hips tightens and you feel him roll his hips against your ass. His warm bulge just begging to be freed.

“Honest,” he defends, “while I was on set, or late at night when I couldn’t sleep, the only thing that brought me peace was you.”

Despite how sweet Cillian’s being, you didn’t take him in here to some exchange kind words or swap some spit.

“You’ve got me here now,” you make eye contact in the mirror, his pupils blown and swimming with lust, “claim your prize.”

The palms of his run along your stomach, his head dipping down to place a kiss onto your neck before bringing his eyes back up to your reflection. Those same palms find your hips, gently gripping the soft skin before sliding his hands down further around your thighs.

He begins to grab at the material hanging down your legs, attempting to hike up your dress as best he can. You bite your lip and give him some assistance in pulling up the fabric, eager for him to see the little surprise you have for him.

Once your dress is lifted up enough, Cillian groans at the beauty in front of him. Your ass on clear display, no panties or tights obstructing his view.

“Were you like this the entire time?”

He watches you nod, a proud smile spread across your lips with your bottom lip still tucked between your teeth. With a smirk he shakes his head, quickly unzipping and unbuttoning his trousers. He pulls them down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, and you feel his hot member pressing against your ass.

Cillian dips a hand down between your legs from behind, trailing his middle finger along the slick seam of your pussy. He dips his finger in, moaning lowly at the warmth and wetness of your core.

“Jesus, baby. Missed my cock that badly, huh?”

You nod while watching him through the mirror, completely transfixed by the sensation of his body against yours along with Cillian’s effortless beauty and sex appeal. You’ve never had a partner that knew which buttons to press as well as Cillian, he could read you like a book.

A small sharp inhale is sucked from your lips when you feel the tip of his length teasing your pussy, smearing your arousal around before gently prodding at your opening.

“Look at yourself when I put it in.” Cillian purrs in your ear, sneaking a large hand up to your neck, gripping your neck and jaw and moving your head forward, forcing you to face your own pleasure.

Already you feel some small amounts of embarrassment, your cheeks are all flushed and your hairs all messy- how could you look so ruined already?

Before you can think too much, Cillian’s pushing his cock inside, slowly. You watch yourself as your mouth starts to hang open, and your brows pinch together. You feel his cock nearly splitting you open, giving you that oh so familiar sweet stretch that you’d been craving after all this time.

“You’ve gotten so fuckin’ tight …” Cillian groans from behind, his warm breath against your neck causing your body to shiver. “You missed getting filled up like this, sweetheart?”

You nod, panting heavily while barely being able to keep your eyes open. His hips roll back out before harshly snapping back in, forcing a pathetic whimper to slip from your lips.

“Yes, yes!” You moan, gripping the edge of the counter as Cillian’s grip on your jaw tightens. Your eyes crack back open and you see your own face again, the pure pleasure he’s giving you leaves you almost unrecognizable in your own eyes. “Missed y-you and your cock-k so much … love you so much …”

It wasn’t very common of either of you to say ‘I love you’ during sex. You’d say it regularly before and after the act, but during? Rarely happened. But since you’ve missed Cillian so much, and he’s been so busy, and now that all his hard work has paid off- it only felt right.

Well, that and the fact that you were already getting cock drunk off of him, your brain barely processing whatever words are coming from your mouth.

“Love you too, darling.” He breathes, kissing your neck while thrusting into you roughly, your hips pushing so harshly against the counter you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care. If anything, you want it to bruise. You want the physical reminder that your husband gave you a good, hard fucking after so many months of separation.

“Love your face, and how cute you look when you’ve got a cock inside you,” Cillian teases, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your neck again. “Love this pussy …”

“Fuck-“ you gasp, already feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to form. You really want to make this last, but it’s all been building up within you for far too long now.

“Love, love, love you, my sweet girl.”

“I-I- fuck-“ embarrassment pangs inside you, already too ruined to properly respond to him. Even though you hate it, you know Cillian adores it. While pounding into you, he feels your channel become slicker around him, the subtle sound of your wetness filling the room combined with some mewls and heavy breaths.

“C-Cill, gettin’ close-“ you warn, opening your eyes as best you can to see Cillian when you come. The hand that was gripping your jaw slides down your back, creeping over towards the front of your body where Cillian starts to rub quick circles onto your clit. His other hand digging into your hip.

“Come, baby. Please, missed seeing that pretty little face of yours come undone for me.” Cillian encourages with a growl, the mind-melting combination of pleasure had you tipping over the edge merely moments after.

Your orgasm hits you hard, the hardest you’ve come in months. You bite into your bottom lip roughly to try silence yourself. Your knees wobble, nearly giving out beneath you, but Cillian’s strong grasp on your hip keeps you up on your feet. While wincing from sensitivity, you push away the hand that was rubbing your clit, Cillian obliges.

“That’s it,” he groans, his own thrusts becoming sporadic and sloppy, “gonna come inside, baby.”

You nod and whine, the sensitivity and pleasure had your entire body vibrating.

“Please, please come inside. I need it.” You beg almost pathetically, wanting nothing more than to feel Cillian’s warm spend spilling out from inside you. He’s panting, cursing, sweating slightly, desperate to give you as much of his come as he can.

He bites down on your shoulder while keeping his hips flush against yours, his cock almost painfully deep inside you, you feel his cock twitch. His hot seed painting your silk walls, just like he’d been fantasizing about for all this time.

Once it starts to become too much, he slowly pulls himself out, only to lean his body forward while spreading your cheeks apart, attentively watching as some of his come trickles out of your pussy. He brings his middle finger up and gently shoves his come back in, earning a small whimper from you.

He leans back up and smacks your ass, making you gasp and giggle before letting the fabric of your dress fall back down to cover your legs.

Cillian turns you around and kisses you, sweetly and passionately.

“Thank you for the gift, my love.”

“This was just the first part, baby. The real gift comes when we get home.” You tease with a wink. You take the next few moments to clean yourself up and fix your appearance before heading back out to the event.

You spend the rest of that evening with Cillian’s come seeping out of you, a dirty little secret that only the two of you share.

—

this fic doesn’t really do it justice but I loooove in fics involving mirrors where the top or whoever’s in charge forces the other to look at themselves getting ruined :,( eat it up every time

[karmicgalaxies]

NSFW Alphabet — Morph

18+ Content MDNI!

Morph (Aka Kevin Sydney) X Reader

Disclaimers: This is just what I think for the sake of fun and whimsy! Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of a Threesome, Riding, Face-fucking, Face-sitting, Vibrators, Light Bondage, Body Worship, Blindfolds & Squirting. Poorly proofread, excuse any errors!

Reader referred to in a gender neutral sense, AFAB reader pictured when writing, however genitals aren’t specified!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Teasing and being a cheeky little shit aside, Morph is an absolute sweetheart. They already see sex as something highly intimate. A dance of not just passion and lust, but an act of trust with their partner’s body, and them with theirs. That being said, aftercare is a big deal to them.

No matter the intensity of the session, they’ll always make sure that you’re okay, always helping clean up the mess the two of you made, and give you some kisses paired with soft caress. And, who could forget the teasing about the sounds that escaped your pretty lips for them during the act? Even laid up together basking in the afterglow of your passions, you never know true peace. But, you’re more than okay with that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When It comes to their partner, Morph’s favorite body part would definitely have to be your hips. They’re just so grabable. They’re easy to wrap an arm or two around, grip onto while they grind themselves onto your ass from behind when you don’t expect it, and damn are they good handles for when you ride their cock. They just love the look of them and how easy it makes it to handle you.

Morph themself have some insecurities. They’ll transform into their more human looking form to try and appease you as they think that’d be what you want. However upon your further insistence of loving them and being attracted and aroused by them as they are in their true form, they learn to come to appreciate themselves a helluva lot more. Though they’d definitely say their face. It’s a perfect seat, nuff said.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Morph LOVES to watch you cum, seeing the mess that you make just turns them on tenfold, making their cock absolutely throb at the sight. Especially if you make a mess on them or in their mouth. They’ll lap that mess right up and come up to kiss you, just so you can taste yourself on their tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They constantly fantasize about a threesome between you and Logan. They wonder what it’d be like, though for that’d be wistful thinking for it to come to fruition. For now, it’s masturbation material to give that extra edge. ;)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Morph isn’t the most experienced person if you’d compare them to someone like Scott or Logan, but they’ve garnered enough experience to know what they’re doing, and they never fall short of leaving you properly pleasured.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that allows Morph a good look at your face, they simply adore. Being able to maintain eye contact, as well as having opportunities to kiss you absolutely senseless as their cock drives into you in one way or another is just absolute bliss. Not to mention the opportunity for teasing. Watching your face contort as you get fucked and seeing those pretty eyes roll back into your head give them absolute ammunition to tease you about it through and through. Some of the things they say are absolute filth, though it only betters the experience as they get to see your face react to their comments of your obscenely lewd sounds or their mention of how pathetic you sound.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As serious and passionate as sex can be at times, Morph is pretty humorous throughout, their personality does not hesitate one bit to shine through. Best believe they’ll still crack their wise muses, making smart comment after smart comment. all in all, the occasional laughs will be had. Makes every experience more memorable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Given the fact that Morph lacks eyebrows and hair atop their head, it’d be a safe, yet correct assumption that they have an overall lack of body hair. However in their human form, they have a little happy trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They are very passionate during sex. Wether it be soft love making, or rough fucking, the passion is almost overwhelming. Amongst the eye contact, they’re muttering out praises for you, telling you how good you feel, how much of a good job you’re doing. Dependent on what type of session is going on, they can be sweeter or a bit more vulgar depending.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Usually, Morph is pretty good at maintaining their composure, though it can only be helped so much when you’re gone for an extended period of time. If they’re real desperate, they might just turn into you as they masturbate. Just so that they can imagine they’re getting a feel of you even though you aren’t present.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. They live for your approval, being told their doing a good job, that they feel good, etc. They’re into face sitting and face fucking, as well as some light bondage and blindfold use. Morph enjoys occasionally having you to their mercy, makes things quite interesting and fun for you both! Also, body worship.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The real question is where wouldn’t they wanna fuck you? Though traditionally, Morph’s favorite places are in the bedroom and the showers. (wink wink nudge nudge) They offer an intimate setting that include just the two of you, though they would be lying to themselves if they haven’t pictured taking you in other places of the mansion.. They’ll definitely have to talk to you about that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talk and suggestive banter. Morph is chalk full of jokes and no doubt they make some suggestive comments here or there. When that teasing energy is reciprocated, it never fails to get them all worked up, hot and bothered with those words of scandalous promise falling from that pretty mouth that they’re totally not envisioning their cock stuffed inside of while you’re on your knees.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that plays with the bounds of consent or the possibility of bringing extreme pain or unsavory circumstance upon either you or them. Morph’s not a fan of anything that causes a threat to your security or comfort. They don’t get off on pain, wether it be feeling it or dealing it out. (Unless it’s a nice firm tap on your ass) If you’re gonna fuck, they want to make sure they have your consent, and to ensure you’re in good hands. No if’s and’s or but’s!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Morph’s an even mix of loving to give as well as receive, But oh what fun it is to see you absolutely crumble under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue. They’re pretty good at giving head, it doesn’t take a genius to know their way around. Though even then, Morph takes the extra mile to be a very attentive lover. Oral sex can be a delicate ordeal, so they find themselves paying attention to what makes you react in all the right ways. Finding out what are your sensitive spots, and knowing just how to work that mouth to get your back arching and toes curling in absolutely ecstasy. They’re a generous partner all throughout.

But oh how they love to receive as well. A warm mouth just wrapping itself around their cock, leaving them a mess of moans and whines, resisting the temptation to just buck their hips and just fuck the ever loving shit out of your face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

They can be a mix of both, depending on the occasion! If it’s a more sensual love making night, they’ll settle for slow and sensual. However if it’s more of a passionate fuck, then the fast and rough will be more prominent. Though their pace ultimately is determined by what you beg him for! Less, their being a tease and Morph’s thrusts are achingly slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! Despite loving the long drawn out sessions, They’ll never pass up on a quickie, taking you in a secluded corner or place. The risk factor of it all adding to the thrill and overall arousal. They’re not common, but when they do happen, they’re worth the while!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Morph isn’t too big on big risks, though despite quickies, they aren’t opposed to getting a bit…frisky. They can get pretty touchy feely, even being as bold to slide a hand down your pants if the occasion allows.

They’re also open to experimentation in the bedroom, so long it’s something the two of you agree can be pleasurable to you both, They’re more than willing to try out any positions, kinks, and ideas!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Their stamina is pretty average, it isn’t anything super humanly excessive, however they can go for quite a few rounds, longer with adequate breaks. In terms of how long they can last, they’ve got pretty good endurance of a few minutes, though that can decrease if Morph is being reduced to an absolute mess.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They definitely own one or two vibrators. Mostly with intent on using them on you, however they sure won’t be opposed to having them used on themself!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One of the biggest teases on the goddamn planet. Leaving lingering touches everywhere except for where you really need them, slowing down a pace if they feel like being cocky. Hell, Morph will even tease with their words, adding further insult to injury at a denial of the pleasures you so seek.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They are NOT quiet by any stretch of the woods. Chances are, Morph is whining and moaning right along with you. They are very vocal, and don’t shy away from that fact. They are a whiny little bitch, god forbid if you ride them, their soul is just snatched up at that point. If they feel good, you will know.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

They absolutely love when they make you squirt. (If applicable) It’s such an addicting sight and feel, they can’t get enough of it. They’re hard as a goddamn diamond at the sight of you soaking the sheets, the floor beneath you, through your intimates and your bottoms, etc. they just love to see and feel it. As well as occasionally have a taste of it. (This is more of a thing for AFAB readers but I really do think they’d have a thing for their partner squirting, I just feel it in my nuggets man-)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

They’re about average size more or less! 5.5 to 6 inches long, and a comfortable girth, perfect size. Their cock is long enough to please, and thick enough to stretch you and make you cum. No leaving you dissatisfied that’s for sure!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Morph’s sex drive isn’t anything crazy, something else that’s pretty average. Though it’s pretty easy to deliberately rile them up and get them extremely hot and bothered . Continue at your discretion ;)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Morph doesn’t let themself fall asleep until they know you’ve been cleaned up and cared for properly after sex. Though even then, they’ll stay up with you, embrace you as they listen to you speak about whatever your heart desires. Though if you want to sleep, they’re fine with that too, and will follow suit.

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed Pt. 5

first try 😎 (5th really)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

It didn’t take long to buy what you needed, but your funds were running low. Which led you to believe it was a good time to return to the temple you had opened, immediately after opening the doors there was a line of women and children. It didn’t take long as you started to go through them all, “blessing” pregnant women and healing sick children. Grateful women who couldn’t bear children or didn’t want to lose their children were more than willing to pay any price for healing. You’d been there almost all night when you felt an all too familiar presence. Your back was to the door but you turned looking over your shoulder. There he stood, tall, pale, long black hair and black robes. You turned completely to face him, “You must be Lady Y/n of the Shrine, I’ve heard so many stories of how you… help people, I’m curious of how you do it.”

Kenjaku, those stitches on his forehead would give him away easily to anyone who had common sense. “Sorry men aren’t allowed in the Shrine, with the exception of my husband and son.”

“You have a husband and son?” His face was smiling in disbelief, you didn't trust him even if he and Sukuna had chatted more than a few times he always left an uneasy feeling in your stomach. “Yes but that’s not important , so tell me why you’re really here. I get the feeling you're not leaving so easy.” He hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “I came looking for something. You have it and I might need it. So one sorcerer to another we both know what you have that’s helping you so much, it was awakened when Ryomen Sukuna was reincarnated. Do you know who that is or did you stumble across this little artefact and decide to keep it for yourself.” You watched his hand move from his sleeve holding up one of Sukuna’s fingers. Unamused, you looked away, “Sorry to tell you the only thing I see is a rotting dismembered finger, if you're not here to benefit both of us please leave.” You tried to wave him off but persisted in following you, Morí put himself between the both of you so you didn’t bother to look back at him. “I’ll give you one warning, you give me whatever you took and I’ll leave. But if I have to take it myself-“

He was cut off feeling hot liquid run down his face, your hand held up over your shoulder, “This is your warning, there won’t be a next one.” The sound of his skull cap hitting the floor was disturbing, Morí wanted to gag at the sight of the brain exposed. “That was a mistake.” You turned around your robes ruffled noisily “No! You turning your back when RYOMEN WAS BETRAYED WAS A MISTAKE KENJAKU, your damn lucky you have that binding vow and that he never found out the truth you two faced coward, I used to think you changed bodies so frequently because you actually had a plan. It turns out you're just lowly scum and your intentions were never clear, you’re a coward and when things become difficult in one life you’d just pop someone’s else’s skull open and go for a joy ride until it’s all used up.”

You saw those Fox like eyes light up followed by that unhinged smile, “Well if it isn’t Mrs.Ryomen Sukuna, I heard the rumours you escaped the prison realm, I just couldn’t believe it.” You felt your lip twitch like you were going to bare your teeth, “Believe it, I’m free and don’t think I’m here to support your silly little flip flop grill cheese bullshit plan. I’m also not going to join your little club of misfit cursed wombs and deranged psychopaths. I’m here for Ryomen and my son, if you do anything to hurt either of them I swear on your life Kenjaku I’ll be the one pulling you out of that man’s skull and making sure you never find another life. I have my plans already and I don’t need you.” He seemed displeased, “That’s the problem here Y/n, your wedding vows can’t do a thing to break a binding vow.”

You laughed “That’s the thing Kenny, you two made a binding vow, Tyler’s say there’s this cute little red string tying to Ryomen, you can both push and pull in the same direction as long as the rope never breaks. But, what happens if a third party comes in and manages to cut that string.” Your head tilted with a passive smile, “Get out.”

————-

“Alright Mama-dori, it's time for little Itadori to go out on his own on a mission!” Gojo seemed excited about breaking this news to you. You couldn’t have given him a more bewildered look. “What do you mean on a mission?” Mori was by your side taking the cracking tea cup from your hand before it shattered over the tea table. “Think of it as a field mission … erm Lady Y/n.” Your face didn’t change much while you were staring him down, he could swear he’s seen that look before. “Where’s it going to happen…?”

He gave you a mischievous smile, “Well if I told you how do I know you wouldn’t interfere.” “If you didn't, what makes you think I wouldn’t find Yuji on my own.” Your smug smile didn’t go unnoticed. “Good luck finding us then.”

———

It didn’t take long of you spending your day at home lazing about waiting for Yuji to come back, you weren’t held captive in this dingy little house but you started to wonder if this is what Sukuna felt like now that you understood he was trapped inside of Yuji

“Mooriiiiii”….. “hm.” “MoorIIIIIIII” “I’m sorry?” “MORI.” You finally lifted your head from being laid out on the cushions on the floor, Mori sighed with a sympathetic smile, closing the book he constantly kept your records and plans in. “Yes Lady Y/n?” You rolled over laying your head on the pillow not looking at him anymore, “I miss- Yuji? Or is it your husband this time?” You fell silent huffing and burying your face into the pillow “bof” Mori shook his head with a small smile at your muffled speech. “We’ve talked about this Lady Y/n, if you do want both of them back they really do need to know the truth.” You moved around so the side of your face was on the pillow and you could just barely see Mori looking at you from the tea table, “Do you know how difficult it’s going to be to explain to Sukuna he was reincarnated into his son that he now sees he’s being held hostage in?” Mori’s eyes didn’t leave your face as you watched a ladybug crawl past you, “But he recognizes you even without your cursed presence Lady Y/n…”

Finally you sat up looking at him, “Do you wanna know a secret Morinozuka? Something almost no one else knows?” He seemed uneasy at the thought, hesitating as you continued, “I’ll have to kill you if you ever tell anyone else but do you know why I lived so long? Why don't I age? Look at us Morino, you were a child when I found you all those years ago. You’ve grown, look at me, I have the same face and appearance as the day we met.” You held your hand out to him, he took it in his looking over the back of it, he remembered your hands well. When he was a child you gave him that motherly love of wiping away his tears, he’d take your hand whenever he’d get scared walking in public. He watched you fill out every paper, he admired the way you would heal people, but he always noticed how people’s hands changed with their age, but your hands were the same as the day he met you. “You haven’t aged Lady Y/n but I can’t tell why.”

“I’m a curse Mori, there’s a beautiful story behind how I became a curse” he watched how you smiled looking at your hand, he watched a mark form over your finger, “But that’s a story for another time!” You were quick to get up, “Let’s make something to eat. I doubt Gojo’s not going to feed them so we can eat at least.”

It didn’t take long for You and Mori to throw together a hot pot with meatballs. You were serving Mori who insisted he should be serving you, “oh be quiet Mori I didn’t take care of you for years for you to take care of every little thing I do now, now eat.” He huffed and started to eat watching as you started to serve yourself, it was when you were about to eat your own meal Yuji busted into your new home excited to tell you about everything. Mori caught your food as Yuji tackled you in a hug “Mom you should’ve seen us it was so cool we…” he paused looking at the table where you had set up the pot of broth. “Oh you were eating, sorry.” You watched as he smiled sitting back on his heels rubbing the back of his head with a big shy smile. You couldn’t help but smile at him, “cmon sit I’ll serve you some if you want and you can tell us how your… field test went.” He sat cross legged beside you leaning against your shoulder rambling and stuffing his face telling you about the revolving sushi and this Girl Kugisaki he and Fushiguro met. You laughed hearing how he whined that she sighed after just looking at them. You leaned your head on his and he kept talking, you listened to every word until he eventually fell asleep in your lap.

You looked down at him, your sweet boy, until you saw that eye open up, and a mouth form, it was a soft call and out of character, “Y/n.” You looked at him, Ryomen, “Ryo…” you saw the malicious smile on his face “If this brat trusts you so much I think you could do a little talking and get me out of here don’t you?” He watched and you smiled, shaking your head, crinkling your nose, “Reincarnated not too long ago and you're already making bigger plans…” your smile fell “what the hell was that where are the women and children moving about anyways hm?”

He looked away making a “face” “I don’t know what you're talking about woman, must’ve misheard….” “Mhm.” He looked back at you before looking away, “It’s been lonely you know…” you leaned down pressing a kiss to Sukuna’s “cheek”, he didn’t bother trying to fight you, “I know it’s been lonely you’ve been locked up for centuries Ryo.” He hummed, before looking at you upset “What are you doing HERE Y/n! Why would you surround yourself with these sorcerers and this brat? Who is this brat? WHYS HES SLEEPING ON YOUR LAP!?” Yuji stirred and you rubbed his head, you should send him to sleep in his dorm, “Ryomen-“ you gave him a look, he rolled his eye, “as much as you’d hate to hear this, Yuji Itadori is our so- mm, hmm?” Yuji sat up rubbing his eyes, “What time is it?” He yawned and all you saw was Sukuna squinting at Yuji before disappearing.

“It’s 10:40 Yu,” you started to stand up, “You should go sleep in your dorm so Gojo to Fushigumi don’t freak out if you're missing.”

He laughed, “Fushigumi.” He’s gonna love that one.” He stood up from the ground stretching and yawning before he squeezed you in a hug, “Gnight mom I’ll see you tomorrow.”

————-

“Hm, it’s July… I wonder if Yuji will want to go watch the fireworks later this month…” you yawned leaning against the post on the porch of the little home. The afternoon sun shining on your face, eyes closed, head resting back against the post. Ungratefully one leg was propped up the other was swinging off the porch just barely grazing the grass, the vibrant red of your robes shining bright. The shoji doors were open wide with fly nets set up, futons were airing out for when you wanted to laze about on the porch or in the living room on the floor, Morí had gotten tired of watching you throw all the cushions in a pile just to complain when you were on the floor and the cushions wouldn’t stay still. You heard him hum still scribbling away, you looked over picking up the hand fan laying at your side, “This was my wedding fan, did you bring it?” Morí hummed again “you said bring ALL your precious belongings when we first left the temple I assumed since it was wrapped in fine linen and in a red wooden box it was preserved for a reason. Then I saw a painting in your temple and it all made sense, Lady Y/n.” You waved it around unceremoniously watching the little charms sway around, “Lady Y/n… was Ryomen Sukuna really your husband?”

“Is he really my husband" is what you mean, he still is my husband even after all these years being forced apart…” you paused looking down on the school, “…he’s my husband…surprisingly he was different then to now. I still love him regardless, he gave me his heart and I gave him mine, sure the wedding vows today would probably sound occult but I was his he was mine, it took years to be comfortable by his side and then we he’s our first child, Yuj-” Morí watched the panicked look on your face, when you pulled your sleeve up grabbing your arm where your binding vow has marked you. He watched you squeeze the muscle hissing through gritted teeth, “Yuji.” It sounded like a forced grunt. He watched you cough from trying to bear the pain, it stopped and you let go, you were visibly confused “Lady Y/n what- I don’t know” you cut him off, “that’s never happened before.” You watched as the mark became a lighter colour almost blending into your skin then you understood, “I NEED TO FIND YUJI.”

———

“….s..Go..” You couldn’t get the words out, you wanted to scream at Satoru, you wanted everyone to die and it filled the room the moment he didn’t let you enter and you forced your way in to see your son laying on the cold metal bed. He was stripped bare with a gaping hole in his chest, the woman in a lab coat and Gojo watched you walk right past them. You could still feel a faint lingering of Sukuna’s cursed energy. Your hand moved up slowly taking Yuji's. He was so cold. The hand you squeezed as a child, the tiny chubby hands that wiped your tears ���It’s okay mommy!” The hands you held onto walking him to school, you shook your head, tears in your eyes, it’s always these damn sorcerers who are so prideful in what they do they try to play heroes and fix the world. Putting the lives of others at expense even if it means they’ll only save one or two people. Your hand trailed up his arm fingertips brushing over where your binding vow was disappearing. “Some proud jujutsu sorcerer you must be.” You could feel Gojo’s stare, having ignored all his rambling but knowing he was upset.

“My son is dead at the expense of what Satoru Gojo?”

Your hair fell over your face when your tears started to fall, ducking your head down feeling like your chest and shoulders were curling in on you. You placed your hand on his chest and it felt like everything changed. You weren’t in that room, you were standing in an all too familiar place.

“Oh,” you felt the heat in your cheeks rising when you heard Ryomen’s voice, “Well if it isn’t my pretty little wife finally coming to visit me hm?” He was behind you, his left arm lazily wrapped around your waist the right around your shoulder so his hand could hold your jaw, he turned your face to look back and up at him. His eyes were lidded and smiled down at you, “Ryomen…” he moved in closer, his lips ghosting over yours, “y/n.” He closed the gap kissing you, he could feel the way you broke out and smiled against his lips, it made him crack his own smile when you tried to hold back your giggles. You were so happy to be able to see him after so long, “Ryo.” You pulled away and he frowned slightly looking at you, “what- LET GO OF HER-“

All you saw was Sukuna grabbing Yuji’s fist and throwing him and sending him flying into the liquid a distance away. “Oh Yuji..”

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[sanjisblackasswife]

Little Things You Do That OP Men Love (SFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Katakuri, Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace

Katakuri

He loves watching you eat with him, whether it’s donuts or just some other snack he likes how your cheeks get almost as big as his when you relax and stuff your face

He enjoys watching you try to fight him. You tend to throw hands with him a lot in a playful way, he’s a big mf so he really doesn’t feel much when you climb, slap, punch or kick him. He views it very cute when you do it when you get jealous or pouty.

To add on to that he loves how you were never afraid of him. Of course it took him sometimes to get used to the affection you gave him, and honestly he thought you’d leave after he showed you his teeth, but you fell more in love with him and he will always cherish you for that

Luffy

He loves how easy it is to make you laugh. He loves your laugh so much. When he first heard it he did such a wide smile, Robin swears up and down the first time he made you laugh that’s when he fell for you, but Luffy never understood why she said that. He tried everyday to hear you laugh at least once regardless if you hate it or not. You look best when you smile.

The way you always share your food with him. I mean yeah there are many things you do for him and sharing your food is one. He loves eating with you and bonding over food. He secretly likes when you feed the food to him too.

The way you take and wear his hat. He has only allowed very few people to wear/hold his hat but he only gives you the privilege of taking it when you want. You look better in it anyways.

The way you run and hug him when you see him. He is a touchy person naturally so when you first hugged him he literally could have melted in your touch. He thinks you’re so soft and smell SOOOO good. Many times after hugging Luffy he keeps his body wrapped around you.

Ace

He loves the way you talk. Whether you have an accent or not your voice gives him a peace of mind. You never yell at him or belittle him with your words. If you both aren’t bantering with each other Everything you speak towards him is all love and affirmation and he wouldn’t change it for the world

He loves how you admire small things about him. You always compliment his freckles, his hair, the way he dresses (even if he barely wears clothes) you’re just so positive around him. He does a small crooked smile when you do it.

The way you say “I love you.” To him. You’re one of the first few people next to his brothers and WB to show him what love really was and when Ace first heard you say that to him he cried.

How carefree you are around him. He notices the way you are more reserved with other around, but when you’re alone with him you are the complete opposite. Ace appreciate you have that kind of trust to be that vulnerable around him.

Sanji

Yes he loves everything about you BUT the one thing he loves the most is how your eyes light up every SINGLE time he walks into the room. Being played by so many women and not desired by many of them the fact that you’re probably the first to have a genuine happiness to have him around makes him feel so honored and loved.

The way you look at him has him on his knees. It’s similar to the first one, but sometimes you have this small low lidded gaze he can’t look away from. You make his cheeks on FIRE with that look! It’s not even intentional and he doesn’t even think you know but when your chin is rested on your hand and you watch him in admiration he gets so shy.

The way you touch him. He’s a touchy guy too, but how you sometimes fix his hair, adjust his tie, or even tie his shoes gets him going—-not ALWAYS in a sexual way but in a way where he will drown you in “I love you’s” for the gesture

He loves watching you talk about things you love to him. There were so many unknown and interesting facts about you he has learned while talking to you, you’re so expressive and fun to speak to. Some days when he isn’t having a love fit he just enjoys having a long and deep conversation.

How patient and gentle you are with him. You never have hit Sanji, pushed him away, cursed at him, or anything. You’ve always welcomed his lover boy antics and him as a whole. You’re so understanding when he screws up somehow that he believes one day you may leave him if he don’t get his act together, but you reassured him nothing could make you love him any less.

Zoro

How you motivate him, he doesn’t tell you of course but seeing you focused on getting stronger gives him the courage to keep going

The way you snap back at him. We all know this mf loves to make smart remarks but when you first clapped back he was so attracted to you . You don’t back down from talking crap to him and he loves that so much

The way you hold him., whether he admits it or not after a love making session or just when you both are sleeping he loves when you pull him into your chest and hold him tightly. Your touch is one of the few things that helps him have a sound mind and make him smile

When you fight, he does get a liiittllleee turned on seeing you work yourself up because you get so cocky and angry while fighting enemies, but he likes how quick you are on your feet (remember that scene where Zoro asks if Chopper is ganna be okay and he says yes and Zoro says “That’s my man” Akbshssskj he says “That’s my girl” to you when you fight )

How you trust him always made his heart flutter. You’re more than capable of fighting on your own, but it’s those moments where you don’t bat an eye to when an enemy is about to attack and you don’t worry because you know Zoro will come to your rescue. He’s asked you why tf do you act so careless when he is around but you smiled and told him, “Because I know a swordsman that will protect me.”

Ego boost.

[drabblesandimagines]

Cuffed

Leon Kennedy x reader, Valentine's Day nonsense

I just really liked this gif*

You let out an annoyed huff, craning your neck back as far as humanly possible in the hopes that somehow this time you will be able to see the lock on the handcuffs you’re trying to pick.

It’s embarrassing – taken down by a scientist with a metal suitcase who’d swung it wildly in defence, rather than putting his hands up above his head as you’d so kindly requested. His antics had sent your gun flying out of your hand and skidding across the linoleum floor and by the time your fingers had grazed the handle of the dagger holstered at your hip, the suitcase had met the side of your skull, sending you toppling down, ears ringing.

You don’t think you fully blacked out, but it was enough of a blow to stun you, knock your earpiece out – all topped off with the scientist taking the handcuffs from your side and locking your wrists above your head, around some sort of metal grill.

He’d even had the gall to say sorry as he did it, before picking up the suitcase and running out of the room.

It’s fine, you’d reassured yourself once the room stopped swimming as much, you’ve got a lockpick hidden away in your watch. That first step had been hard enough – feeling blindly for the small dial on the side with your fingers to pull out the thing but you’d succeeded in the end, so surely you’d triumph here as well… right?

You don’t know how long it takes, but eventually you feel resistance, indicating you’ve finally managed to locate the lock itself. Great - now all you need to do is get through the pin mechanisms and you’ll be free, and you won’t even have to mention any of this to Leon-

Dink.

The sound of the lockpick hitting the floor as it slips from your grip is a kick in the teeth.

You aren’t granted time to commence a pity party as a beat later the door opposite is kicked open to reveal Leon, gun poised, finger on the trigger, looking mad as hell. His face relaxes a little at the sight of you, but he’s still sure to scan the area before he deems it clear, clicks the safety on and holsters his weapon. He holds a finger up to his ear and you hear a faint beep.

“Condor One to Roost. Hummingbird acquired – we’ll head to the evac point shortly.”  

Leon strides over as he speaks to HQ, before finally crouching down in front of you with a smug grin and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Hi…” You trail off, embarrassed about your predicament.

“Well, this isn’t exactly where I was expecting to receive my Valentine’s Day gift, but you’ve definitely surprised me.”

Your face burns at the implication – you two keep it as professional as possible when on assignment together, but something about your current situation has Leon unable to resist. You attempt a half-hearted kick out at him in protest, but he stills your thigh easily with a hand.

“It’s not funny, Leon!” You retort, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration. “The target got away with the suitcase and-“

“Easy, I got him. He’s in custody, goods secured – much like you.”

“I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Uh-uh, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, before grasping your chin with gloved fingers and begins to check over you for injuries – a purple bruise already blossoming on your temple. “How many of me can you see?”

“One.”

He holds up his other hand. “And how many fingers?”

“Three. Look, can you just get me out of these now – please?” You pout, but he’s enjoying being the tease a little too much to concede just yet.

“It’s on the agenda. What’s the date?”

“14th February.”

“Good. Otherwise known as?”

You roll your eyes. “Valentine’s Day.”

“And who’s your Valentine?”

“Well, he won’t be if he doesn’t uncuff m-“ Leon cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours – a soft, slow and sensitive kiss. You don’t even realize his hands are now above your head until there’s a soft click and finally your wrists are freed from their confines.

“You were saying?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither was you scaring the shit outta me when you dropped off comms, sweetheart. Come on.” He wraps an arm around your waist and helps you to your feet. “We need to get you checked for concussion.”

“Really?” You frown, though you do feel a little light-headed now you’re standing. “It wasn’t that hard of a hit.“

“Well, there’s a definite dent on that suitcase we confiscated, so I think we should play it safe.”

“Fine.”

He presses another kiss to your lips - this one a little more fierce, and pulls away only slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Leon smiles and retreats, but keeps a hand on the small of your back as he bends down to pick up your discarded gun and handcuffs. He proceeds to offer the gun back to you and you murmur a thanks and holster it, expecting to be handed the cuffs next, only for him to tuck them away into one of his many pockets on his pants and start to usher you out of the room.

“Wait, those are mine too.”

“I know.” He replies in an amused tone.

“Then why are you keeping them?”

He laces his fingers through yours, brings it up to his lips to kiss. “Let’s just say they’re going to come in very handy for my Valentine’s Day gift later.”

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[hanasnx]

life in technicolor.

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: not edited mb | f!reader | sex tape | sexual content | established relationship | riding. NOTES: dedicated to @murdrdocs. credit for the cam idea

ABED NADIR had rented out that clunky camera from the film department ages ago. It sits in his living room precariously balanced on a stack of books on a shelf, and you cannot stop staring at it. It draws you in like a moth to flame, constantly staring into its lens. One part of you is paranoid it’s recording because it’s like Abed to leave it on to capture life as it exists, and the other part secretly daydreams he left it on to capture something else. Regardless of any fantasies, you know he wouldn’t just leave it on on purpose, right?

You chew your lower lip as you watch it and wonder what it would be like if he’d planned to make a movie with you. One without inhibitions or clothes. That kind of spontaneity isn’t within his peripheral, but you still hold out hope.

“What are you looking at?” his question snaps you out of your stupor, jumping in place before meeting his expectant gaze. The noises of the movie playing come into focus as your mouth parts only to expel silence. “You were looking over there so I just thought there was something to look at.” Abed answers your hesitance as if he anticipated your confusion, gesturing with a finger in the direction of the camera while his hand is still wrapped around the spoon in his cereal bowl.

“Oh!” you exclaim, glancing between him and the lens, shaking your head. “It’s nothing.” Uncomfortably, you shift in your seat, stuffing your clasped hands between your thighs. He notes that with a twitch to his brow. “I was just staring off into space.”

He continues to test the waters, adjusting the point of his finger towards the TV, “Is the movie boring?”

“Mm-mm.” You press your lips together and shake your head again. When you sigh, you visibly relax, sinking into his couch.

“You’re doing that thing you do.”

You hum in inquiry, frowning at him.

“The deflection.” He’s not a stranger to getting lost in thought, but you sure do get lost the most when you’re watching that camera. Regardless of his inexperience in the physical intimacy facet of a relationship, he knows how to read people, and he certainly knows what cameras are used for. He recognizes that flush in your cheeks. “You wanna try it out?”

At first he kept experimenting, showing you the buttons to press, demonstrating how to hold it, observing your reactions. You aren’t interested in being a film major, he knows that, but now that you’ve learned how to use it, who’s to decide what you’ll use it on? It’s easy to deduce where it’s headed, and it gets real dirty real fast.

“Point it down- between us.” Those breathless words send shivers down your spine, especially because he’s usually so silent when he’s inside you. You do as he says, recording where your bodies conjoin: his ruts up into you, your hole swallowing him up, the ring of cream forming at his base. It’s not often he gets to indulge you in the physical side of sensuality, this is his way of appeasing you. He’ll trim it up, edit it, make it pretty, and let you have a copy of the sex tape he has a hand in making right now. He doesn’t mind, his face isn’t in it anyway. Nobody’ll know it’s his tan dick fucking your insides. “I like you… like this.” he confesses, and a grin stretches onto your lips when you feel his hands squeeze your hips.

“You mean when I’m on top?”

“Yes,” he grunts, and a sting shoots through your abdomen. “I like what you look like. You look really pretty. Up there.” Broken phrases are interrupted by his sounds of effort, lithe body bucking into you as you struggle to keep the camera steady.

“Do I feel good?” you whisper, and Abed’s head tilts back. It defines his adam’s apple, and if this camera wasn’t in your way you’d lean down to lick it.

Your question does not go unheeded for he knows intimately how important verbal praise is to you, so he tries to be vocal. This is for you. He sucks in a breath, “Yes. Yes, very.”

[headkiss]

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.