#This is for those of you who are still here!
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
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#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji x black reader#jjk x black reader#black fem reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji fushiguro x black reader#black reader#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.#🔪 ── toji.
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To Feel At Home
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)
Main Masterlist ♡
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On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.
Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris.
Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat.
The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.
No more winnowing.
You had tried—it hadn’t worked.
As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance.
You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him.
Nothing yet.
He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check. His shadows would cross continents to find you.
But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home.
And you were here.
You had no reason to panic.
You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here…
Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him.
There were no shadows yet.
They always found you first.
You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing.
Your body would surely fail.
The last five decades had not been kind.
With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway.
A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else.
But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected.
Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips.
You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago.
“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.”
You couldn’t.
Moving was impossible.
Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out.
A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears.
But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you.
His nose pressed into your hair.
His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns.
More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth.
This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be.
You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind.
Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working.
Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack.
Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes.
Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking.
“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.”
Over and over. On a loop.
Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness.
The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky.
“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—”
A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks.
This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare.
It had to be real, it had to—
“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.”
His forehead met yours.
This was real.
You felt the shadows wisp along your skin.
You could never feel them in dreams.
“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.”
Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms.
“I’ve missed you more.”
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x female!reader#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#acotar fanfiction
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HARD LAUNCH | minho
drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you.
“We do, yes.”
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands.
“Why would you do that?”
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat.
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off.
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.”
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness.
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned.
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?”
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet.
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food.
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording.
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
[ tags: @102598s @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @palindrome969 @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @astronomicallyyy @doohnut @linocz @romancerry @djeniryuu @pinkpunkdynamite @pynchkilledme @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @liknws @beeracha @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]
#minho drabble#skzstarnet#lee know x reader#lee know drabble#lee know fluff#lee know au#lee know scenarios#lee know imagines#lee know fanfic#lee know fanfiction#lee know fic#lee know#stray kids fic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids au#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#skz x reader#skz fic#skz fanfiction#skz au#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz drabble#skz fluff
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Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader
Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.
Main Masterlist
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Feb
YourUserName just posted
liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others
YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'
12,326 comments
User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album
User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely
User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it
→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real
→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it
francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?
→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired
User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt
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2 months before
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May
redbullracing just posted
liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP
tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet
7,445 comments
User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill
User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull
User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career
User 10 that should’ve been Y/N
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
June
YourUserName just posted
liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others
YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'
10,102 comments
User 11 not max liking despite not even following
victoriaverstappen so talented
liked by maxverstappen1
→ YourUserName thank you, vic x
→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main
alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears
→ YourUserName doofus
→ lilymhe can confirm
User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad
kellypiquet just posted
liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others
kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍
tagged: maxverstappen1
4,387 comments
User 13 so pretty
User 14 goals
User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials
→ User 16 delusional
→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him
→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...
→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post
→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium
YourUserName posted a new story
Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers. Daniel’s part has already been posted.
I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha
Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery
#baby fever angst#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 headcanon#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen headcanon#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smau#max verstappen x reader
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Welcome To Santini's
Inspired by the Santini restaurant in Riyadh.
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So yeah. I've built another restaurant! This is for your sims who want to have a luxury dining experience! I have also included an office and full size kitchen for those who want to have a nice gameplay experience if you want to own this restaurant.
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Size: 40x30 (recommended in Brindleton Bay)
Price: $465,168
Pack Used: Get Famous, City Living, Get Together, Get to Work, Dine Out (required), Spa Day, Romantic Garden Stuff Pack
EA ID: Shaymoo22
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🚨IMPORTANT BEFORE DOWNLOADING 🚨
Some items were placed with TOOL mod and bb.moveobjects
The CC Set for Bostny's Modern Kitchen Set was not included since it is still in Early Access - This is required for the bar you see!! (but however you choose to retrieve this set is your decision 👀)
Also the restaurant food items are a mix between Somik & Severinka and ATS4. However, you can choose to include your own custom food menu or the preset version in the game.
if anything is missing or does not work, please message me
Download: Google Drive
CC List Here - As always, thank you to the amazing cc creators!
#sims 4 build#sims 4 lot#sims 4#sims 4 custom content#sims 4 lots#ts4 lots#mybuilds#my builds#community lot#restaurant
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steddie request! pre steddie during a pool day eddie feels cute aggression and bites the back of steve's shoulder and surprises him
It should be ILLEGAL, Eddie thinks, for Steve Harrington to allowed out into polite company, much less in a community pool where innocent eyes could gaze upon him. Objectively, sure, Eddie knows that those little pink swim shorts aren't any more scandalous that what anyone else is wearing today. Ted Wheeler is knocked out on a lounge chair with only a speedo. But it's Steve. And Eddie's doing his best to rehab his image in Hawkins, so drooling after the local Harrington prince wasn't going to help.
Never mind that it was Steve who drug Eddie out into Satan's crack that is Indiana summer in August. He'd made a good case about it, too—something, something, being seen doing good in front of all the moms at the community pool, something, something, Holly's birthday party, yada yada. Honestly, Eddie didn't hear most of it, lost in Steve's stupid, beautiful brown eyes.
What was Eddie going to say? No?? Be for real.
That was how Eddie found himself sat on a deck chair (thankfully one with an umbrella), in his jeans next to a cooler, handing little girls juice boxes and snacks when demanded of him.
Holly Wheeler must befriends with the entire elementary school, Jesus Christ.
Steve himself, in his aforementioned pink swim trunks, was playing as pool jungle gym and had kids crawling all over him. It helped a lot to keep Eddie from drooling after him, but didn't do a lot for Eddie's heart.
Worse than Steve being hot, was Steve being cute. Eddie couldn't take it. He was going to die.
Steve had one of the smaller kids perched on his hip, held safely up out of the splash zone, while the rest of the hoard took turns climbing up onto his shoulders and using him like a diving board, his free hand guiding them safely into the water as they jumped. It looked like hell to Eddie, but Steve was grinning ear to ear, rating each jump with a booming cheer that had all the kids screaming around him with each splash.
"Um, excuse me," snaps a little girl in front of Eddie. He glances down and feels like he's looking at a mini Erica Sinclair, her hands on her hips and scowling. A chilling sight.
"Whatcha need, shrimp?" Eddie sighs, flipping the cooler lid up to take another order. "We're out of red barrels, and our stock of blue is going fast."
She eyes him skeptically for a moment before her little shoulders slump. "Fine, I guess I'll take the blue."
"Here you go," he says, pulling the foil off for her since little wrinkled baby fingers have yet to manage it all day. "Now be gone with ye."
Treating him with another incredibly bitchy look for a third grader, she bounds off just as a shadow appears over Eddie. A wet arm hooks over Eddie's shoulders, just as Steve crashes into the deck chair beside him, too small for two nearly full grown men, the plastic creaking ominously. Steve is practically in Eddie's lap.
"Harrington, what the fuck," Eddie squawks, cold pool water soaking into his clothes because Steve is dripping wet.
"What the language, Munson," Steve says, still grinning, looking at Eddie with those brown eyes. His face is round and a little pink, and he's so close that Eddie can see the faint trail of summer freckles across his nose. He's so beautiful, and he looks so happy and excited to have Eddie's attention. "There's little ears—OW WHAT THE FUCK!"
Eddie opens his jaw and yanks his head back, almost as shocked with himself as Steve. He can taste pool water in his mouth. There's a line of pink teeth-marks on Steve tanned shoulder.
"Uh," Eddie says.
"Did..." Steve starts. He leans back a little, still half in Eddie's lap, to gape down at him. "Did you just... bite me?"
"Y-Yeah," Eddie breathes. "Whoops."
"Whoops?" Steve repeats, brows high on his forehead. "Why the hell did you bite me?"
"You're very bitable." Eddie's going to drown himself in the pool at this rate. "You're too cute. I had to bite you."
He watches as Steve's eyes narrow, watches as Steve begins to suss him out. Eddie's still too shocked with himself to do anything, can't even panic, because he's that much of an idiot and his brain has gone completely offline. Because Eddie bit Steve Harrington and then called him cute, Jesus Humphrey Christ.
Then Steve leans down, slowly, until his face is right in Eddie's, and an insane thought goes through Eddie's brain. I bit Steve Harrington, told him he was cute, and now he's going to kiss me.
Except Steve bypasses Eddie's face and lands his lips against Eddie's neck, where he then tries to take his own pound of flesh.
Eddie screeches.
Distantly, he recognizes what a weird blessing it is that they're at the community pool, surrounded half the elementary school, all of them screeching and screaming and splashing. Everyone is completely oblivious to whatever homosexual nightmare is happening to Eddie right now.
"You're pretty cute yourself, Ed," Steve says into the small space next to his ear. And then he's up and standing between one breath and the next. "We really gotta teach you some manners though," he says, grinning, before he turns and dives into the pool.
"Y-Yeah," Eddie says weakly in his absence. He can feel Steve's spit on his neck, rapidly drying the summer heat, the bite mark aching with promise.
#asks#steddie#pre-steddie#steddie ficlet#brought to you by personal experience as a past (unwilling) pool jungle gym i did not enjoy it as much as steve does here smh#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!!!#i hope you like it!!#my steddies
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Fallen Blessings
Alastor x fallen angel!reader
warnings: none!
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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 📻 ɞ˚‧｡⋆
Alastor stood behind you, hand on your hip as he watched with a insane looking smile as all of hell fall into panic as the angelic exterminaion began. A white angelic light emited hells lonely streets, thousands and thousands of exterminators flying down like hungry animals. “So much for being ‘angelic beings’.” You think to yourself and scoff. Alastor twirls you around, smirking down at you. You stared at him without a bit of expression on your face, examining every inch of his face. Slow jazz music starts to play, Alastor swaying with you as loud screams start to echo through the pride ring. Your mind was else where as Alastor dipped you, your head barely above the ground. You think about how heaven once was, your once pearly white wings were a gray, almost black color, the tips of your feathers still a vibrant gold. You never could have imagined that heaven, a paradise where most of humanity wishes to end up after death would decide on such a cruel thing as exterminations. You get pulled back into reality when Alastor cups your cheek, making your once innocent eyes look into his crimson ones. He pinches your cheek making you wince.
“What’s bothering you mon chéri?” He says and you shrug, looking back at the ruckus outside. “It’s nothing love, just thinking about.. heaven.” You say and he laughs out loud, making you look at him with a raised brow. “Oh but whatever for? You’ve got me down here in this wretched place, don’t you?” He says and you nod, leaning your head on his chest, swaying a bit more slowly. “Just wonder of how things would be if I managed to convince the high Seraphim to stop those exterminations, or if I never even found out about them in the first place.” You say making him stop in his tracks as if he just got frozen in place. He grabs you by the shoulders and looks you in the eyes. “You never told me about this?” He asks with a curious smile, leading you to the couch in the hotels library. He looks at you expectantly, looking like a child that’s about to find out about the tooth fairy, which was a funny sight since this is the radio demon we’re talking about here.
So you tell him about the events before getting thrown out of the eternal paradise they call heaven. Getting caught listening to a conversation the first human; Adam and the high Seraphim; Sera were having about hells overpopulation. You weren’t caught for being loud, no, no. You were too naive to think there wasn’t an angel right on the other side of the door who heard your little gasp after finding about the exterminations. And so you were thrown out, which was a bit stupid considering they added another soul to the already overpopulated hell. Alastor laughed, commenting on how reckless the angels were which you somewhat agreed to. “Maybe things could’ve been different, and maybe that whole event is the reason why i’m here in this hotel. I doubt it will work but I have hopes for the girl. She’s smart but she has a long way to go to achieve this dream, if it’s even possible.” You rant, fiddling with your fingers and look anywhere but at Alastor. He puts a hand on yours, squeezing it lightly as comfort. You open your mouth to speak but get interrupted by Alastor. “They were reckless to kick out such a heavenly soul into hells streets.” He starts making your stomach turn. “They have no idea what a blessing they lost.” Your cheeks redden as he kisses your cheek, pulling you closer by the waist.
“You’re a true angel mon amour, when I saw you I thought I was getting redeemed into heaven that’s how heavenly you are.”
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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 📻 ɞ˚‧｡⋆
#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor altruist#alastor oneshot#alastor fluff
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nothing on me but you [l.d.n]
pairing: Mob Boss!Lando Norris x Assistant!Reader
wc: 1.0k
cw: slight dubcon (they kiss while reader is under influence and without permission), possessive behavior, he is a red flag lowkey?
an: and when the world needed her most, she came back (after crying for 2 weeks straight and slapping herself to pull it together)... chat i didn't cook with this one pls dont flop.
You could feel people's eyes on you even as you left the hall, talking quietly among themselves as you clung on tighter to Landos arm, almost trying to make yourself invisible.
You could hear their still hear their sighs of pity, following you out the building.
You knew exactly what they were whispering were about.
It wasn’t a secret that Lando was a playboy, and now everyone assumed you were just another one of the bodies in his count. You were madly in love with him, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face the fact that you were just another thing he would claim, sooner or later.
As the cold wave of realization and sadness washed over you, you let go of your grasp around his shoulders, gently prying his hands off you as you stood still. You hadn’t drunk enough to be able to forget a whole car ride home.
“Sir…this doesn’t look right, I think you should just let me go home by myself.” You mumbled, head hanging in shame as he turned back to you. The alcohol wasn’t wearing off quick enough.
“Leave you alone? Drunk?” He said, tone incredulous as you looked at him.
“Mmmh, I could just call an uber…?” You trailed off, noticing the look of annoyance on his face. He rarely hid anything from you, especially not his displeasement.
“An uber? I don’t think it would be very wise of me to leave you alone like that, I'm surprised you could even suggest such a thing while I'm still here.” He said sternly, reaching out to grab your hand firmly. “C’mon, you’re in no state to leave on your own baby.”
His car was parked at the corner, lavish from the outside and especially on the inside as you slid in, letting go of his hand as he shut the door with a smile.
The car ride was met with a charged silence, comfortably settled between you. You could see the city lights from your window, beating brightly in the distance. You kept stealing glances at him every now and then, watching as the light from the streets passed over his eyes, jewelry glinting softly. His hand gripped the wheel as he drove, humming something softly. The song playing softly in the background seemed to tune out as his hand intertwined into yours.
It was just too calm. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer.
“Sir, i just wanna ask-”
“Lan.”
You paused, taken aback by the sudden interruption.
“I’m sorry?”
“Start calling me Lan again. I miss it.”
You hadn’t called him that in ages, not since the days of your early and very short friendship. You wondered what could’ve brought it up, but you were in no place to say no.
For a moment, you wondered if he felt the same.
“Sir- I mean Lan, what are you doing this for?”
“So what, I can’t do nice things for you?” He chuckled, cringing slightly as the edge in his voice betrayed him. His hand slipped away from yours and you wanted to grab it back, but shame kept you from doing so.
“Well, i just assumed that you just wanted to-” He turned towards you, eyes dark as he looked you up and down.
“Assumed that I was doing this just because I wanted you in my bed? Have you been listening to what all those worthless people whisper about you and me then?” He tsked, clearly peeved by the things coming out of your mouth.
“Isn’t that what you did for all the other ones too? I’m just one of many-” His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.
“Who said that you were one of all those other ones, baby?”
His words cut through the ache in your heart like a knife. You almost couldn’t breathe, thoughts filling your head at what he’d just said.
"Baby, who said that you were one of all those other ones?" he repeated softly, his voice gentle in comparison to the deadly smile on his face.
You swallowed hard, finding it hard to think under his intense glare. “I- I don’t know. I just thought that maybe we’d be better off parting ways because clearly people don’t-”
“You’re such a liar baby, you know that?”
“What?” Your heart dropped.
You hadn’t realized you had reached his sprawling mansion, the lights coming alive as you came to a sharp stop at his doorstep.
He hadn’t unlocked the door handles either, turning off the ignition and then turning to you.
“Such a liar, baby.” There was warmth in the laughs he let out, yet his expression was unreadable as his hand gently cupped the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Can you imagine how mad it made me up to see you look at other people like that?” He hissed, lips almost up against yours.
You whined as he moved away, smirking at your state.
You wanted him desperately, and he knew. “Can’t you see that I want you? And don’t lie, I know you want me too. Don’t think I haven't seen the way you’ve looked at me.” He cooed, leaning into you.
You faltered, unable to form a coherent response as Lando’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch comforting and suffocating at the same time.
“I want y-“
But before you could utter another word, he pulled you in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. He gnawed at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, the aftertaste of champagne overpowering it all.
You broke from it, inhaling deeply before he pulled you in once more, relentless in the way he greedily devoured the air from you. His grip on your nape had loosely returned, thumb running up and down the back of your neck before his hand slowly ran down the backless dress.
You pushed him away again, softer this time as you choked on the sudden intake of air.
His head ran up and down your back, eventually wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him.
“I want nothing on me but you, have I made that clear? I love you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.
“Lando.”
“Say it back, please.” He begged, a slightly pout forming in his face.
“I love you too, Lan.”
#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 mafia au#f1 mafia#mafia f1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fluff#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#mafia!f1#mafia fanfic#mafia au#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one imagine
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A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)
Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.
In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright.
My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.
Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.
It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.
This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.
Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.
All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.
Love and good luck.
- Dan
#ywgttn#ywgttn spoilers#i guess? mental health spoilers is a funny concept#love and good luck <3333#also. look forward to a 700 page memoir. dont play with me like that daniel#dan and phil#daniel howell
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Mafia!Max Verstappen headcanons
Summary: Max used to be with reader, but they broke up, she gets pregnant (with him) and didn't told him and they met a few years later. Next part here.
English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Don't copy or translate my works!
Wc: 767
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• It was just a useless relationship that he didn't need, nothing more
• at least that's what he says himself everyday, but it was far from the truth and he knew it.
• He loved you, that's for sure, but
• he did what he had to do, so you will be safe but
• how could you live your life and one day see your "mini-me" looking right back at you.
• He wasn't planning to go this far and what's worst, to have a child with his enemy's daughter.
• He never wanted that and the fact
• Max broke your heart all those years ago was just a bonus.
• After that you moved out of the Netherlands, back to London, but
• a few weeks later, you found out that you were pregnant. Well, shit.
• It was a little boy. Elijah or your little Eli.
• You wanted to tell Max, you really did, but your father didn't approved that,
• he didn't want him to know, and the fact that your father was head of the local British Mafia and his enemy was Dutch Mafia, wasn't good at all.
• little Eli was your secret, so whe Max saw you with little child
• it was safe to say that he almost had a stroke right on the sidewalk.
• Max never thought that he would see you again.
• Well, not at least with a little kid that looked like him.
• He was just supposed to take care of a few things around the London and then fly back to Netherlands
• but he saw you and your little blonde boy
• as you carried him in your arms and his own were around your neck with little red and blue car toy.
• You were crossing the road, when you saw Max on the other side.
• You stopped in the middle of crosswalk, mouth agape with nerves on the march.
• What was he doing here?
• You turned on your heels and basically ran back to your car.
• After that you tried your hardest to stay away from him, or anyone from that matter
• but he knew what he saw
• and that was you and his child, a boy,
• his heir that he had and didn't know about
• but he was determined to change that and he did when
• he found your penthouse that you owed, he killed every guard outside the building that was watching over you and your son, he couldn't care less about them and
• he will deal with your father later, now
•Max he didn't want to scare you like before, so he
• knocked on door and obviously
• he didn't expect a little boy with car toy he saw earlier and with paci in his mouth
• will open for him, and then he heard your call for Eli, asking him who came here, thinking it was your mother because she was your regular guest.
• You came to the door and saw Max, how he just stood here, looking
• as you scoped little Eli in your arms and asked him what he was doing here, but all he could do was to
• ask if it's his son, you looked at him
• and said yes, it was three and half years ago that you saw and talked to each other and you
• still missed him, but you couldn't forget how he broke up with you.
• Saying it was for your own good.
• he dropped to his knees
• "I'm so sorry" he apologized and promised that he would do anything to make it up to you and his son.
• To spend all his free time with you both, to have you both in his life
• but you weren't convinced, more like scared
• what if something happens, what if someone hurts your baby?
• You wouldn't survive that.
• He kissed your and Elijah head and promising to take care of both of you, that he will move the entire world just for you
• and you accepted.
• You didn't want to move right back to Netherland, so he stayed most of his time in your penthouse with you and Eli
• slowly got used to him, after you explained that Max is his father, he didn't want him to leave, ever.
• It took a lot of time to open back to him, but he always made sure that you have everything you and Eli needed.
• His family.
---
I want more of Mafia!Max so send me some requests of him. 🫶 more posts here!
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader#x reader#k0juki's stuff 🩷#f1#f1 x reader#x female!reader#mafia!au#mafia!f1#mafia!max verstappen#mafia!max#formula 1#mafia au#dark romance#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris#mafia!max verstappen x reader
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ᡣ𐭩 chris sturn x fem! reader
warnings: nothing !!
summary: judging met gala’s outfits with your bf while being sick
you were always excited for the met gala. curious to see the outfits and be able to judge them — especially those that completely missed the point.
but what excited you the least, in that moment, was the fact that you were sick. luck wasn't much on your side, and the annoying burning in your throat and runny nose made the experience fucking torture.
your boyfriend, on the other hand, was never really interested that much. he simply scrolled through Instagram posts to see the various celebrities, without going further.
and instead, there he was, taking care of a sick and almost delirious you while forced to watch the met gala.
you two were lying on your bed, the only lights on were those of your led’s, set to blue, and the one emanating from the screen of your laptop placed on both your legs. your head rested between the crook of his neck and his chest, with your hair falling completely over him as he ran his fingers through it in a soothing way.
"i'm here to see women, anyway. all men are always so boring" you muttered, rolling your eyes after seeing the simplicity of chris hemsworth's outfit. chris chuckled, shaking his head at your bad judgment. "you're judging them all" he raised an eyebrow. "and you do it while you're in your fucking pajamas, baby"
you made a sound of mock offense, lifting your head to look at him. "well, my pajamas have more sense than some of these outfits" you shrugged, chuckling.
“trust me, i can agree” he nodded, bringing his hand down to your ass which he then squeezed between his fingers with a force that made you huff in amusement. “they make your ass absolutely perf-” you silenced him with a simple look, his hands raised in a innocent gesture.
in fact, only women were receiving your total love. the one you favored the most was tyla, for whom you had to sit on the bed while slapping your hand against your mouth for the shock — and with chris having to force you to lie down and pull the covers over you again.
"i think you can express your love even while lying down too" chris sighed amusedly, placing a hand on your forehead gently to see if your temperature was still high.
you let out a grunt, snuggling into him again as you closed your eyes briefly at the contact of his hand. “no i can't, baby” you complained, shaking your head.
soon after, you weren't even paying attention to the laptop anymore. your fever had most likely risen again, and your eyes were fighting the urge to close and sleep. chris's warm embrace didn't help at all, your senses seemed expanded as his chest felt like a big cloud more comfortable than ever.
“oh my god” after a while, you were fully awake again, and the words came out of your mouth almost like a scream. this worried chris, who sat up slightly on the bed as he looked down at you. "what? are you okay?"
"no!" you huffed, pointing to the laptop. THE mike faist had appeared on the screen, and your brain had screwed up the 'all men are boring at the met gala' mentality "i should be there with him, but instead i'm here in bed dying"
chris blinked. 1 time. 2 times. "i'll be here watching you die then, doing nothing" probably didn’t appreciate your comment at all.
likes & reblogs are highly appreciated
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Jennifer Love Hewitt has come out and said she doesn't think Buddie is happening, and that it may be time for people to let that go.
Ryan Guzman referred to Eddie as "a heterosexual man", who is very supportive of his best friend coming out, and he also stressed how important that is as far as representation is concerned.
Tim Minear recently admitted that he stopped exploring Buck and Eddie's friendship, from fear that he would be accused of queerbaiting. And then, somewhere along the way, he decided to continue that friendship, regardless of what people say, because he made the executive decision to stay true to the story he wishes to tell.
Whether or not it's by design, I obviously don't know. But I do think we're experiencing a shift in how the cast and crew are going to navigate this from here on out. I would wager that they know outright that Buck and Eddie are not going to get together romantically, and they're now trying to be as direct as possible about it, while still being generous and kind to those who wanted it.
This makes complete sense, especially when you consider that Tim, Oliver, Lou, and company very likely want to approach Buck's bisexuality with as much sensitivity, generosity, and consideration, as they possibly can, because they know how important this representation is. They've spoken on this several times, after all. And they can't accomplish this if certain people who ship Buck and Eddie together are going to relentlessly invade and try to co-opt these celebratory spaces. They can't accomplish this if publications are going to continue hounding them about the possibility of Buck and Eddie getting together.
It's very jarring to see the shift become so blatant, but it's not at all surprising. If Buck and Eddie was never in the cards, this shift needed to occur eventually, if they wanted to give respect to Buck's (and Oliver's) journey with this storyline. And that goes double if the plan is for Tommy to stay. Because if (and I know that's only an if) they are setting Tommy up to be a longterm partner, then Tommy (and Lou) deserve that same respect.
#911#bucktommy#i legitimately feel for the buddie shippers who have been nothing but kind and supportive but... yeah.#if buck and eddie are to only ever remain friends (or brothers because their relationship goes undeniably deep)#then this truly needed to happen sooner rather than later.
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Choso who went into battle not knowing if he'd ever see you again. You knew this as well as he did, but he didn't want you to worry so he tried to comfort your mind.
"When I get back you gotta make me one of those cakes with the strawberries in it. I'll be thinking about it the whole time." He's hugging you, your head resting on his chest, tears from your leaky eyes stain his shirt.
"Don't go." Is all you can say. For some reason your heart is telling you that this is the last time you'll ever see your husband. This isn't just an assumption either, it's a very, very strong feeling inside of you.
"Baby. You know I have to.." His cold hands rub up and down your back, the coldness reminds of you of death.
"But.. what if this is our last time together?" He freezes completely, even his breath stops for a few seconds.
"I promise you, honey, this will not be our last time together." Choso leans down to meet your lips in a kiss, this kiss held so much slow, raw emotion. His hands caressed the back of your head and you felt more tears roll down your face.
"Choso! We gotta get goin'!" Yuki says tapping her foot impatiently. You have nothing against Yuki, but at that moment so much hate builds up inside of you- she's trying to take him away from you. She's trying to bring him closer to death.
"Choso please..." It's desperate and whiny, your voice cracks upon the last syllable. He gives you one last tight squeeze before muttering a, "I'll see you later baby."
The worst part about the departure is he doesn't look back, but you don't blame him. If he had looked back at your weepy eyes, he probably would have stayed instead of fighting for Japan.
Over the months of his absence you grow bitter, hateful, and quiet. Rarely do you talk anymore so when you hear your own voice it sounds foreign. Even your closest friends can't bring you out of the house without you bursting into tears, because the same door you walk out of is the same door he left out of.
"[name] you have to get out of here, you're going to spiral sooner or later," Your best friend mutters for the nth time.
"I'M NOT LEAVING! THIS IS ALL I HAVE LEFT!" You scream out. Regret instantly washes over you. "I'm-"
"I know you're hurting, don't worry about it." They say in a calming manner.
"I just- it's been two weeks since he's called me. Two. Weeks." Your best friend joins you on your couch, the same couch you and your husband have had many movie nights on.
"I know you're worried, [name]. About him, about your future, about everything... and I'm not going to tell you to be optimistic about the whole thing because it's 50/50 but I do want you to stay strong. It's what your husband would want, right?" They're right, if Choso were here he would tell you to push through and stay strong like you always do.
"Okay- fuck- alright. I'll go put some different clothes, let's get out of here. I haven't left in a long time."
The call came a month later. It was Yaga, he didn't sugar coat it, not that you wanted him to anyway.
"I'm sorry for your loss." It hurts when you hear those words being said to you over the phone. Your ears get a fuzzy feeling your vision blurs, and you start to hyperventilate.
"[name]? [name] are you there?" Everything went dark after that.
Trying to cope was the worst part of it all. Yaga had called you a couple of weeks later saying his body was so mutilated that they couldn't bring it back to bury him properly.
Now, you truly have nothing left, well, technically you have all the things he's given to you over the years, but you don't have him.
You went to therapy, you went to stay with your family, none of it worked. All you could think about was the last time he held you, his body was warm but his hands were cold to the touch.
As much as it hurts, your therapist has suggested moving out of your house because your pain is still raw and being in the house will bring up painful memories. Of course you refuse, why is everyone trying to take away what you have left of your husband?
In your bed was a picture of Choso, one you'd always keep with you when you missed him horribly. As you lie down for the night, you hug the picture tightly while tears silently fall from your eyes. At this point you don't even make sound anymore when you cry, it's just tears.
Ultimately, Yuji was the one to help you start your healing process. When everything had faded he came back, in rough shape might you add, but at least he was back. Instead of going to see all his friends when he returns, he goes to see you.
When he knocks on your door you assume it's your friends or a family member coming to get you out of the house. Seeing Yuji at your front door was very unexpected on your part. Before you can even get a sentence out he's squeezing you in a bone crushing hug.
"Choso told me to give you a hug for him. It was the last thing he asked for." His softly spoken words meet your ears. Almost immediately you squeezed Yuji tighter, "Thank you ,Yuji..."
"I know that you've known him longer than I have but.." he pauses, "his death hurt me just as much, and shit- I'm not gonna lie and say everything will be okay or everything will go back to normal, but I will say that he wants us to continue on even when it's rough."
Yuji's words sink into your brain and your first thought is selfish 'he wouldn't want me to keep going without him'. After a few seconds of rethinking you agree with Yuji, Choso was a fighter and he pressed on for what he believed, and yes, he would want you and his brother to do the same.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk 259#jjk spoilers#kinda???#jujutsu kaisen x reader#choso#choso kamo#choso angst#choso kamo angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk x reader#jjk x reader angst#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#choso drabbles
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Distractions
Bucky x reader
Summary: Bucky is bored filling out the paperwork. Luckily, you're there to distract him.
Words: 616
Once or twice a week, Bucky worked in his office to handle the paperwork. This was one of those days. You softly knocked on Bucky's half-closed door to his office. His eyes looked up from the pile of paperwork in front of him. Honestly, you thought he had fallen asleep.
"Hey, Buck." You smiled, shutting the door and walking to his desk.
"Hi, doll." He stretched his arms above his head, leaning back in the chair.
"I brought you coffee." You pecked his cheek and placed the mug on the desk, leaning against the table in front of him.
"Thanks." Bucky rolled his chair closer to you, placing his head in your lap, and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm gonna take a nap." You tangled your fingers in his hair, softly massaging his head with your fingertips. "Sweetheart," He hummed in contentment. "That feels so good." He almost moaned.
Bucky pulled you in his lap, nuzzling in the crook of your neck. You giggled as his scruff brushed over your skin.
"I love this shirt on you." You brushed your palms over his chest, stopping at the buttons and rolling them between your fingers.
"I don't know, I think it looks better on you." His hands slid up your sides. "Especially if you're not wearing anything underneath it." He smirked, looking into your eyes with mischief sparkling in his blues. "And I've had my way with you."
You chuckled at his statements.
"Ugh," He sighed. "I have so many things to do. I need to make a training schedule for new recruits and sort out this pile of papers, but all I want to do is you." He smiled playfully.
"I would love that, but we're at work."
"So?" He quirked a brow.
"What if someone comes in?"
"I still don't see where's the problem." While Bucky's hands found their way under your shirt, he leaned closer to your neck, placing a soft kiss.
"Bucky," You gasped, giggling as he blew raspberries against your neck. You laughed as you squirmed away from him.
He wrapped his vibranium arm firmly around your waist and stood up with his free hand, sweeping the papers and stationary off the table. Thankfully, the coffee mug survived, staying on the table.
"Bucky!" You giggled as he seated you on top of the table.
"Yes, dear?" He smugly replied before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
His stationary phone rang. He ignored it the first time. The second time it called, he pulled away to look who was calling so persistently. "Oh no, it's Tony."
"I'm not here." You whispered, catching your breath.
Bucky nodded, pressing a button on the phone console and setting it on the loudspeaker. "Yes, Tony?"
"I need Y/n." Tony's voice rang through the speaker, filling the quiet room.
"Sorry, but she's not here," Bucky answered in all seriousness, looking at you, basically undressing you with his eyes.
"Yeah, right." He chuckled. "Y/n, come to my office in five." Tony knew where to find you when you weren't in your office. Either you would be with Nat or Sam. But most frequently, he could find you with Bucky.
"Okay, Tony." You rolled your eyes, ending the call. Getting off Bucky's table and straightening your clothes, you spotted the thing you were coming for in the first place. "I'm taking this." Smiling, you took the invoice from the floor. "Tony approved buying the knives you wanted."
"How did you manage that?"
"It's like you don't know me at all. You can thank me later." You winked at him as you turned to walk away.
"Oh, darlin', already can't wait." He said as he playfully slapped your backside.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes
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VAPOR, pt II. | jjk ft. myg
pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc
genre: smut, a great dose of angst
word count: 11.9k
summary: hard times ask for extra care and like the healer he is, jungkook doesn't fail to give you his absolute best.
pinterest board: vapor | playlist: vapor
warnings: heartbreak, lots of tears, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), praise kink, sucking fingers, female masturbation, fingering, oc is extremely wet and jk is rly rly hard for her <3, squirting, multiple orgasms, jk tells her off kinda and it's hot, pet names, raw and rough sex, the abandonment issues are heavy in one part, mention of a sex toy
note: hi, my loves. this was absolutely painful to write, but i know i made a good decision. unfortunately for those who are waiting for the next series—i'm sorry, but this will have another part. it's already so long and if i kept going, it'd have probably like 20k plus words and i don't want to take up your time. i think i can manage to post the last part THIS week, so look forward to this. one part of the happy ending done. <3 i love you, guys, i hope you like this. don't hesitate to let me know; i worked hard and i want validation skfjslkfjsklfs. enjoy, my loves. <3
A dead man for the fifth time, Jungkook finds the unfolding of the events quite ridiculous now. And he’s not surprised, how could he really be at this point, that there’s radio silence within the chambers of his heart.
The food court is muted, the lights are ever still bright, but the corners of his eyes gain peculiar shadows that cling to the side of your face as you swirl your spoon in your hot soup. His phone is ringing and its obnoxious sound is but a vibration in his hand and the only thing that’s delaying him from sliding his thumb across his device is some sort of consent in your solemn, yet saddened features. He can see translucent threads lining your rounded lips that have sown your mouth shut, preventing you from speaking out your tender heart and it’s predominantly this thing, among the obvious other ones, that drives him to make a scene in front of all of these people crowded around him.
If he has to, he will rip those wisps. Make it as painless as possible because whether he likes it or not, he needs you right now. Needs your word of advice, needs your consent in order to do what the entirety of his organs yearns to do. And if you say no, he’ll willingly turn his phone off and refuse to speak to his once-closest friend.
Just for the sake of your mental health. Just to outrun fate and grasp her wrist to stop her from furthermore scarring your heart.
You have enough of them and he has only one pair of lips to heal them.
Lifting the spoon to your mouth, you keep your gaze on its silver coat and it unnerves him—the fact you won’t look at him, the fact that you so evidently don’t want to be in this situation. Your own boyfriend is chasing you around town, even though he transmitted waves of nothingness your way when he had you under his roof. He doesn’t fucking understand it. Doesn’t understand how he’s capable of doing such a thing and fury rises in his gut, soars high to his throat, which constricts around it so tightly that it forbids him from inhaling any oxygen into his lungs. And he fears that if he speaks, it’ll soak you. Make you even smaller than you are and he’ll hate himself for the rest of his life for it.
However…
He needs to talk to you. Time is pressing down on his shoulders once again and here and now, he’s too burdened, too fragile to bear it. His stoicism has long been fractured, its shards cracking cacophonously under the soles of his sneakers and… the singular tear rooting on his pale cheek hasn’t even dried up.
“Tell me what to do, sweetheart,” Jungkook says, his voice a soft, deep murmur; a plea. His surroundings gain volume, little by little, the lack of air in his lungs causing his mind to spin. His body grows cold and, unwittingly, he bounces his leg underneath the table. “If you don’t want me to pick up this call, I won’t. It’s your decision.”
He knows that whatever it is that will come out of your mouth and change the trajectory of his fury, he’ll protect you nonetheless. No matter what, no matter what it takes. He’ll unleash what’s been swarming in him for a long time in private sometime later if you ask for it—he’ll gladly tell his organs no and they’ll have to listen. That’s certainly not an issue.
What will be an issue is if you remain quiet. He doesn’t know what will happen to him under that circumstance. He has very little trust in something that’s out of his grasp and he has strong disliking for the looseness of it all. Doesn’t feel right.
A quick, soft slurp of your soup. A lift of your weary eyes. A kick in his heart. “I don’t want to make any decision. If you want to pick up the call, you should. I don’t mind. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.”
He must be dead because he’s staring at his own reincarnation.
You’ve walked so far on your pathway of suffering that you reached the point that you don’t care anymore. Don’t care that there’s a risk Yoongi will see you or hear you. Don’t care about what’s going to happen when he does and about the events after. It’s as admirable as it is disturbing and a faint pulse begins to sound in his chest. Thrill nips at his skin; a sense of responsibility uncoiling within, linking to the surety of his instinct to protect you. To stand up for you. To make things right in a way, way different manner than he’s ever tried before and it’s those inclinations that drive his thumb to swipe across the screen.
Though he doesn’t look at Yoongi. No, he looks at you, studying your features. It’s not that he doesn’t trust your words, he does and vehemently so, but this is a difficult situation that you’re both in and it would be only understandable if the gravity of it washed over you all of a sudden and you weren’t comfortable with this anymore. He wouldn’t hesitate to end the call right away. Fuck what Yoongi thinks.
But nothing changes about your weariness. It’s a still pool of water, unmoving and utterly impenetrable, like the pond behind his cabin during cold, winter times. When this is over, he promises to get warm and dip his fingers in, permeate your skin with rosiness and coziness. Stall the change of seasons unfurling in you.
And Jungkook pleats that promise into the palm of your hand as he takes it, his thumb against your head line. Watches you stuff your mouth full with noodles. His own stomach churns, the fury half parting, making a way for his hunger to suffuse his senses. He’s so happy you’re eating that all he can think about is how he’s going to make your life better with this one singular video call.
He leaves you to it and focuses his gaze down on Yoongi. His once-close friend is driving in his car and despite the shit view he has of him, due to his service and the way Yoongi’s phone is angled, he can still see the way he’s swathed by murkiness. The purple marks under his eyes are a stark contrast to the pallidness of his skin and his hair is a mess, tufts of black strands sticking in different directions as if he had been on the verge of ripping his hair out. He has one hand on the steering wheel, while the other runs over his upper lip. Over and over, back and forth, waiting, patiently, for Jungkook’s attention.
He starts speaking once he knows he has it.
“Sorry to bother you, I didn’t know who else to call.” He sighs and explains that he’s calling because of you, the mention of your name causing his voice to crack. “I drove up to her apartment, but she’s not there. She told me she was going to her place when she… when she… left.”
So he heard you loud and clear, and yet he didn’t have the decency to respond to you, make you know that you were heard. Jungkook looks at you and this time you look back at him, too. A tight, painful exchange of glances. He squeezes your hand, even as Yoongi continues.
“She’s not picking up the phone. I’m worried about her—”
Jungkook is swift with his words. “You should’ve thought of that before you let her leave,” he snaps, his whole body tense, hanging yet again by the thread. He keeps his hold over your hand gentle, despite it all—despite the fact that his form yearns to explode. “You’re too reckless. Leave her alone.”
Your eyes widen while Yoongi’s narrow, but he doesn’t regret what he said. He knows there’s utmost truth in them, something that should scramble his brain until he comprehends it. Yoongi’s mouth purses in a tight line and his fist clenches before he places it on the steering wheel with a thud.
“Don’t talk to me like this. I don’t need this,” Yoongi mutters, pulling out his hyung card and while it angers Jungkook even more, he also thinks that’s the biggest load of bullshit that has ever come out of his mouth. “I need to know where she is.”
He gazes intently at you as he says, “It’s none of your business.”
And those big eyes of yours round in a good emotion that he can’t really recognize and slowly, you swallow down your noodles. Speechless, he deduces. A tendril of adrenaline courses in him, strengthening his responsibility and protectiveness over you, kissing it ever so sweetly when you squeeze his hand.
A validation.
Jungkook could stay like this. He wouldn’t mind at all—it feels too nice. Feels like you’re his. And perhaps at this very moment you are.
The feeling is so overwhelming that he doesn’t give two shits about the fact Yoongi is detonating on the other side of the screen. He keeps his eyes on you.
“What the fuck do you mean it’s none of my business? Is she with you?”
It’s at this moment that a proud smile curls Jungkook’s lips. And it’s joy that absorbs his organs, his heart beating loudly and clearly. Even the people around him seem happier in his peripheral vision. He thinks this night tops in the best days he’s ever had.
Tension has grabbed a hold of you, too. But he will make it better. He’s got you.
He continues with the truth and he’s not afraid of it. Not at all.
“Yes, she’s safe with me.”
Those words, most peculiarly, soothe Yoongi’s rage. Silence fills his car, one that forces Jungkook to flick his eyes to his phone because he truly can’t believe what’s happening. Yoongi runs his hand down his face and nods once, the murkiness loosening a fair bit before it pulps him. It’s now that he becomes small. A tiny boy, at the hands of his own repercussions. Displeased, but relieved. A strange, strange sight.
“Good,” Yoongi says and Jungkook’s stomach drops. “She should be with you. You’re better than me in ways I could never be. She doesn’t need me anymore.”
Your mouth parts and a vexation of your own clutches you. Enough for you to drop your spoon and lift your hand, palm up. The adrenaline in Jungkook’s system thickens. “Give me the phone.”
Yoongi's head turns to the screen at the sound of your irritated voice and Jungkook’s smile widens, handing you the device. He knows what you’re about to say will put an end to this difficult situation and he’s eager to hear it, eager for it to happen.
“Careful, don’t make him crash his car,” Jungkook whispers, ever so smug, just for your ears, but on the other hand, he doesn’t care if it finds a way to your boyfriend’s as well. You gaze at him most solemnly, fleetingly, and he can’t read shit in your expression. He’s not troubled by it, however; he wants you to let loose in whatever form of your choosing, of your liking. You deserve it, to be boundless like that. It’s been a long time coming.
His phone in your hand is too large and he finds it so cute that it helps him relax. Without withdrawing his hand, he hunches over his soup, getting his utensils ready.
And his first taste of his meal is as good as the first words you hurl at Yoongi.
“Are you joking right now? Is that all you have to say after everything? You’re actually unbelievable,” you spit, shooting daggers at the screen, your brows furrowed, a lethal glare directed at him. Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but he hears him sigh. “I’d like you to know that it’s my decision that I’m with him. Not yours. You’re not in control of it and you never will be again. I’m with him because I want to be with him, not because you let me be with him or because you think it’s good.”
Your voice rises in volume ever so slightly, respectful of your surroundings, but untethering your heart free nonetheless. A tortured pain coats it, despite the fact you’re holding yourself strong and it drives Jungkook to let go of his spoon, unable to eat when he feels your agony in all its raw immensity. You struck his awe and all he can do is watch you make order of your life. For your sake and also, most remarkably, for his. A beautiful, beautiful sight.
Love unable to be real turning away, slowly, from the dead end.
“So, we’re over?” Yoongi asks, small—small voice. Jungkook has never heard it before and butterflies zap his stomach with the strongest electricity they could come across.
Your face doesn’t change and you don’t hesitate to unleash your next words. “I think you should go see other people and heal from this mess. You’ve grown too attached to your own fucked up impressions and you need a reality check.”
Such coldness, such brutality. Jungkook can’t breathe—finds it hard to believe this is happening right now, that angels are by his side, keeping his bloodstream flowing. He feels as though he’s dreaming again due to the speck of vagueness in your answer. Yes, you’ve told him to go see other people, but he’s also aware that Yoongi needs the raw truth on a silver platter. If there’s anything he hates with all his being, it’s the abyss of obscurities. It’s the space in his brain for him to make up for the emptiness of your words.
Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumb fondling the crook between your thumb and your forefinger, giving you the little strength he possesses in him—the last of it, all he has.
Are you breaking up with him or are you taking a break?
Jungkook longs to know, perhaps he needs it, too, even though both options are more than merciful for such a wretched dreamer like him. A dreamer that has stumbled upon gold in a poor, poor world.
“Honey, please.” Yoongi breaks into sobs and it’s now, now as Jungkook hears the sound of a raw emotion from such a detached person that he softens, his fury snuffed out in a blink of an eye, and he can’t feel his arms, nor his legs. He realizes, most strangely, that it’s his friend, one he spent the last ten years of his life with. The aftertaste of copper pools in his mouth again and his own eyes wet. Yours, too, your chin quivering the more you take in his devastated state. “I can’t do this without you. I–I don’t know how to.”
Despite your tenderness, your words remain firm. “I think you’ve managed quite well these past few days. You’ve pushed me away, needed space. So go have it. I won’t suffer through it, though. I’ll do what I want, you should, too. You need to heal in the only way you know how. Alone.”
Yoongi sniffles, taking long breaths to seemingly calm his shuddering lungs. And pity enfolds his heart, pity for his friend that he’s become such a wreck and that he’s a witness to it, more than the cause behind it. He puts the latter to the side, now is not the right time for it.
He knows what will happen to him once he breaks the dam of self-blame. It’s not what you need right now and he will make sure to keep that dam of your own safe and stable. It’s his duty.
“Will you wait for me?” Yoongi asks and Jungkook feels that question curl around his gut. With a light layer of sadness, he returns to his food, his stomach grumbling.
You sigh, swiping your fingers under the skin beneath your lower lashes, perhaps so Yoongi doesn’t see your weakness. Jungkook watches you as he slurps on his noodles, nervous—terribly, terribly nervous.
“I don’t know if I’m able to trust you like that again,” you conclude, taking a big breath and Jungkook chokes on his food, coughing so hard that you untangle your hand from his and slap his back. “Gotta go. I’ll call you later.” You end the phone call and gently lay down his phone, rubbing his back soothingly as Jungkook splutters. “Are you okay? What happened?”
What happened? You gave him life. Made a pathway for his dreams to come true. Gave him a leeway to walk upon this earth with no weight on his shoulders. Turned something inaccessible accessible.
Love unreal becomes real, running headlong in the opposite direction of the dead end.
The last of his aching coughs emit out of his throat and he swallows, lungs heaving with freedom and easy, easy breaths. The air is different, the oxygen much sweeter. You put his tall glass of water into his hand, encouraging him to drink, never letting go of him as Jungkook takes a big sip, the cold liquid washing away all of those dark ashes left from the fire of his fury. His vision blurs once he looks at you in this new, shifted reality and there’s a smile to his face, calmness surging through his body, exhilaration most needed twining around it.
“You tell me,” Jungkook says, almost out of breath—out of his mind. “What just happened?”
You go back to your soup, squeeze your fried egg open with your chopsticks. “I’m not letting him hurt me again. I don’t have to be strong and take it, do I?” With the yolk spilling in, you push the entirety of the egg white into your mouth, huffing in delight, rolling your eyes back and chewing, cheeks puffed up like a little squirrel. His own utensils go slack in his hand, watching you enjoy your food, his heart enlarging. But then you furrow your brows and stop chewing. “Fuck, it’s cold, but it’s so good.” You sigh and resume chewing, your eyes flicking across the table, your body bouncing excitedly in your seat. You act as though you didn’t just break your own boyfriend’s heart—as if you led a normal conversation with him, in which he was just checking up with you. Jungkook’s awe is so struck that he can’t speak. Can’t eat. Can’t do anything but watch you with all that love abounding in his being for you. And then you flick your eyes to his and the wrinkle between your brows deepens. “Why aren’t you eating? Is it too cold?”
He calls your name, firmly. Leans back in his seat with a big sigh. Rubs his eyes with his fingers. “What just happened?”
There’s simply no way this is real.
You devour your noodles, swallowing spoonfuls of soup. “I ended things with him, Jungkook, and I’m not coming back to him.”
His mouth dries, heart picks up speed. How are you saying this with such ease? Isn’t your heart split in two? Your devotion clung to his guy with every breath you took and back at his cabin, you wouldn’t let him play with you unless Yoongi was present. How come it seems like you’re anything but heartbroken right now?
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks in all honesty, confounded by your behavior.
You push away your bowl, cradling your full belly. “Yes, I’m okay.”
He doesn’t really believe you. Losing your appetite was proof enough. “Positive?”
You look over to the side and your chin begins to quiver. There it is. Your hand flies to your face and you hide the rupture of your pretense behind it. The corners of your face, the only parts he gets to see, flush in red and Jungkook grabs your things with a heavy, sinking heart. Walks over to you and gives you his hand.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
The weeping clouds have migrated not just to your eyes but to his, too. The night is deep and Jungkook feels it, ardently, coming to rest beneath his skin, floating on its back upon the stream of his tears that he’s stifling. He’s holding your hand and your purse as he’s leading you to his place. You didn’t want to see the face of your apartment. As a matter of fact, you couldn’t stand anything that reminded you of Yoongi and you begged him to take you somewhere you’ve never been before. Jungkook only nodded, brushing away the tears that managed to escape. Thought he’d bring you to any place you’d ever ask, just as long as you stuck with him.
He’s gained what he wanted for a long time, but at what cost? The two people he loves the most are broken. One, his dearest, he’s grasping tightly so she wouldn’t fly away. The other is becoming but a memory, ten years going down the drain—never to be seen again, never to be continued.
He has you, but he lost Yoongi. And the realization hangs, heftily, over his clavicles, swinging back and forth, kicking into his chest.
He can’t stand the sight of him either, however. How strange.
Once inside the warmth of his apartment, he can’t help but rid you of the hideous flannel of his that you’re wearing, bunching it up in his fists and throwing it away to the corner of his bench on the side of his wall without you knowing. With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you to his living room and he lets you skim your sight all around it, slipping his fingers under the hem of your tiny top, just touching you there. White walls, brown leather couch, a TV that takes up the most of the space alongside the kitchen with a plain dining area consisting of an old wooden, rectangular table with four chairs. A huge singular space of nothingness that has never felt home-like, not until you’ve stepped inside.
Now, all of a sudden, it has colors. Vibrant, yet soft-toned with each inhale of his breath. You bring your oxymorons everywhere you go and they stay where you reside, even if you move someplace else. The evidence of it is in his very body. While he feels at his most fragile, he also senses himself to be strong. Strong enough to take care of you right at this moment, be there for you and give you anything you’d ever want. And while his eyes are still wet, cheeks bedewed by his softness, he also wants to break this place—self-blame creeping in, threatening to emerge from the hidden spots somewhere within the battlefield of his chest.
This is his fault. Had he never said yes, you wouldn’t be in pain and neither would his friend be. But in that scenario, he wouldn’t know you existed. Wouldn’t have you. Would lead a forlorn life, with his paints and his alcohol.
You would be happy with Yoongi. Radiant, glowy. With your glitters, your little dresses. Your nighttime robes and your little lingerie.
Would you? Has he ruined your happiness? Has he ruined you?
Jungkook turns you around to him. He needs to ask you; he needs to have the certainty, otherwise he won’t sleep tonight. Won’t even close his eyes—the thoughts would eat away his drowsiness. Leave only wakefulness in their wake. Jungkook presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there, formulating his words, carefully. His hands clutch your shoulders. Your frail, slender shoulders.
Yoongi devastated your appetite enough that you lost all your soft fleshiness. He took it away and he doesn’t even perceive it. It was clear to him by the way you pushed your plate away, when your emotions rushed through; you didn’t have to say a word. And although he grieves the personal loss, still this is something he’ll never forgive him for.
“Would you have been happy if you never knew me?” he asks, subduedly, torment clawing at his vocal cords. “Would you have been happy with him?”
A teardrop spills down your cheekbone, plopping onto the material of your top, soaking it. You furrow your brows, seem angry at his choice of words and he regrets them, enough that his mouth rounds in a tender emotion that he’s too weak to stifle back. And then you bunch up his T-shirt, just like you did earlier in the dressing room, and there’s a tendril of relief that maybe he didn’t fuck up so majestically. He wants to weep; holding them back pains him too much and that ease, that repose is all he wants. It’s not that he’s shy or unwilling to let out his feelings—it’s just that he’s putting yours above his, deeming them more important. He wants to be strong for you, someone you can lean on—and how can he do that for you when he’s crumbling on the inside?
“How can you say that to me?” you ask in disbelief and Jungkook wants to rewind back the time. Wants to keep quiet and just hold you through this fateful night. He winces, looking away, his own chin quivering this time and he can’t—he can’t hold back. He possesses no strength. A tear trickles down his cheek, one full of agony, hot against his skin and he whimpers, he whimpers when you cradle his face in your hands, step on your tippy toes and press your lips against his. Your mouth is so warm and he’s shivering with cold; silky while his are ruined by the constant biting he did in the car. He is a ruination—how can you want him? He ruined your relationship. And now even his tears have stained your angelic, pure face.
“I feel like I’ve ruined everything,” he admits and his chest hurts, lungs tight, body trembling in that persisting cold. “I’ve ruined your relationship. I’ve ruined your life. Yoongi’s. Caused so much pain, so much trauma. Only because I let my friends convince me into going out when I came back from the military.”
The wrinkle between your brows smooths down and you pout, caressing his face. Jungkook can’t halt the rivulet of his liquid emotions. Not when he feels your love so awfully intensely, embracing him around and around, tightening, giving him a sense of safety.
“Can I tell you something?” You take his hand in yours and Jungkook already misses your warm touch on his face. He nods. “Where’s your room?”
He leads you there and you crawl onto his bed, patting the space beside you, curling on your side. He mirrors your position and you prop the side of your leg on his, intertwining your fingers with his on the bedding, moving his hand to your mouth.
And your words seep into his fist.
“We were together for five months and I never met his family. Never met his friends, except you. I never really thought about it in depth because he kept me busy, despite the fact all we did was fuck. It was enough for me, I guess, because I’d been alone for a long, long time before I met him. And I’m a bit of a loner myself so I didn’t mind that we spent all of our time in his apartment, fucking and watching movies. It wasn’t until I met you, Jungkook,” you pause, taking a big breath in, fondling his knuckles with your thumb, soothing him, soothing the drowsiness that is suddenly falling upon him like a blanket, waving off his tears, drying them. “That I realized it’s not really supposed to be like this in my life. I remember that night when he was out with you and I was in the bathroom. I thought about when was the last time he took me out and I shivered. I shivered, Jungkook. It was the first seed sown and I didn’t know. And when you came into my life, I spent my weekends out with you. You took me to your cabin, you took me out to dinner dates. Even today you took me to the mall. I realized it’s supposed to be like this. Yoongi never did that.”
Your words tingle across his fist and he’s quick with his own. “But were you happy?”
So are you. You don’t hesitate. “I thought I was, but the way I’m happy with you can’t compare to the way I thought I was happy with him.”
The truth wafts in the air, sweetening it and another onrush of tears come out of his tear ducts. He leans in closer to you, nose to nose, sniffling, sobbing quietly and you kiss his hand. Over and over, breathing against his skin. Light opens in him as the truth unfolds—with the little time he had with you, he managed to make you happier. Not just happy, but happier.
“I had a lot of time to think about this. It wasn’t just today that he didn’t speak to me. He barely did throughout the week, but today was the worst of it all and I couldn’t take it anymore. It hurt, it hurt so much,” you continue and Jungkook knows how much it pains you, when Yoongi abandons you over and over, clawing his fingernails in your scars. He’s glad, brims completely with that gratefulness that it also rolls down his cheeks, mingling with his tears, that you were strong enough to put a stop to it—as hard as it was. “And you know what I think? Yoongi needs someone like that. Someone who’s a much bigger loner than I am. Someone who’s okay with staying home, with keeping things casual. He needs a friend and I’ll continue being that for him, but not in the way he wants. I’ll be there for him, but not as closely as he was used to, you know? It has to be a process. I can’t just disappear out of his life. I don’t have the heart to do that.”
Extending his arm, Jungkook invites you to rest your head against his bicep—only because he yearns to touch you. Without untangling your intertwinement, you lay against him, breathing in his scent and Jungkook wraps the same arm around your shoulders, cocooning you in. Body to body, his lips against your forehead. You look up at him and he looks down at you, a profound exchange of glances. The reality shifts once more, the energy deepens, filling it with something beyond affection and love—fate thickening the air, intense, earnest and impassioned. And submitting to it, Jungkook raises your chin and kisses you, deeply, slipping his tongue inside just briefly. Kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, hides himself in that crook, breathing with you and nothing else.
A brand new reality.
He can’t help but think about how smart you are. How admirable, how good. How well you handled everything, how well you made an order out of your life and ultimately out of Yoongi’s, too. Like Jungkook will take care of you, you will take care of Yoongi—not leaving him on his own with his shattered heart and mental health. He just hopes that sometime soon, he will be able to have a part in it, too. It’s his utmost wish. No matter how upset he was with him, how strongly he disliked him in certain moments, it’s still a person he loves, a person he spent the last ten years of his life with. A family, almost.
“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?” Jungkook whispers, squeezing you against his body, drawing you closer until your lungs and his gain that singular synchronization. Your leg straddles his torso and he grows greedy, needing you even closer. Needing to get underneath your skin.
“I’ll try my best to make it happen,” you whisper back, running your fingers through his hair. The light that shines in your eyes faintly illuminates his shadowy room and it’s precisely the one he longed to see. Something tells him it’s here to stay and it drives his thumb to caress your wet lashes, the skin beneath your eyes, your rose-kissed cheek.
Jungkook trusts you. You’re such a badass that you will succeed in anything you set yourself out to do. And he tells you. Asks you if you want to take a bath. Thinks it will distract your heart from what it knows, from what it’s used to. Teach it something new—something you will connect only with him.
And your reaction enlarges his heart to the point that it breaks his ribcage. Your eyes widen, its light erupting, blinding him, and you gasp, lifting your whole body and grabbing his shirt in your fists. He chuckles in endearment.
“You have a bathtub?”
And your eyes almost fall out of their sockets at the sight of it once he carries you to his bathroom and sets you down. He kisses the back of your head, his hands on your hips, guiding you closer to the bathtub, reaching over to lift the tap and let hot water pour down. You both need it after such an emotionally-exhausting day and Jungkook is eager to get in with you.
“Stay here. Don’t strip. I’ll get your candle,” Jungkook says, lowly, squeezing your hips once and caressing your bum as he turns around and heads to the kitchen.
He wants to be the one who takes off your clothes. Plans to do something with you he hasn’t done in a long while, something he deems you deserve after everything you’ve been through. He grabs your mango-scented candle, your bag of cheese balls, a lighter and a chair and returns to you.
You’re crouching by the bathtub, your hand flowing in the hot water, its steam curling, tenderly, your hair cascading down your back. Jungkook pats the back of your head to announce that he’s come back and you smile up at him, your eyes big and twinkling, so magnificent that he grows weak in the knees, butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach.
Lighting up your candle, you watch as he does it, each three knots flaring up to life and suffusing the air with a balmy, tropical scent. He sets it down on the chair and, helping you stand up to your feet, he doesn’t waste a second. His fingers hook under the hem of your top and fling it out. And because he knows you’ve never bared yourself like this before him, he hides your nakedness by pressing you against his chest, your soft breasts a pleasure, his digits sliding beneath your leggings and dragging them down your hips, looking over your shoulder. You shimmy out of them, moving your hips ever so delightfully and before he knows it, he’s on his knees—kissing the apex of your thighs as he takes your feet out of the pant legs. And he thinks he could stay here all his life.
Jungkook looks up at you as he removes your socks, kissing your knee without breaking the gaze, and he hopes that you can sense his love for you in it, the unyielding stability that he will cling to you with his body and soul—simply, with his entire being.
Rising slowly, he kisses his pathway up, leaving behind the translucent evidence of that love. Your mound, which makes you giggle, a celestial symphony to his ears, your full tummy where he hopes your invisible rose tattoos still are, both sides of your ribs, the middle of your breasts, your sternum, your collarbones, your throat, your chin—up and up until his lips find yours. And he devours them. With such vigor that you hum into his mouth, your hands reaching for his shirt again.
Oh, you want him to get in as well. Very well.
He wanted to be the witness to your relaxation, but if it’s your desire that he shares it with you—by all means. He lets you take off his shirt, lifting his arms for you, and you’re quick to allow your hands to discover the parts they don’t know. His mole beneath his left pec that he caught you staring at shortly after that turn of events at the cabin. You press your mouth against it, unravel your love for it there by grazing your teeth against it before you lick it over with your tongue, going as far as marking the spot right beside it. Jungkook sinks his fingers in your hair, reveling in it, tummy tingling, holding you like that as you do what you please. Your own digits descend to his pants, setting him free from them and when you get on your knees just like him, his cock tightens in your face.
And he dies, angels know for how many times today, when you rub your face in this intimate part of him, his heart bursting.
Not now—he can’t let you do that now. He wants your muscles to relax first before he can strain them all over again, in a much different way.
“My sweetie,” he starts, sighing, rubbing your scalp. He takes you by the back of your neck, sliding his hand underneath your armpit, and drags you up. A healthy, radiant flush adorns you and he’s glad for the paleness to be gone. Glad his body is the cause of it. It makes his heart happy. “Not now. Let’s get in the tub.”
Your stiffened nipples brush against his bare chest and he almost doubles over, loving the feeling of it. The sigh that leaves your mouth, so akin to his, too.
“But you’re hard,” you whisper, tugging down his boxers until his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your small hand around it, squeezing him lightly.
He can’t help but to grunt, the faint pleasure dizzying. He missed your hand, missed your touch. Haven’t had it in so long. It fits so well in your fist and he believes, in all seriousness, that it belongs to you. It’s yours.
He brushes his lips against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. His brain malfunctions a little bit, the pleasure you’re giving him zapping his dominance. “You like holding me like this?”
You fondle his tip with your thumb and he hisses, sparks of electricity coursing down his body and he hums at the aftershocks. So good. He feels his arousal drip for you; feels himself lengthening in your hand. You nod, watching it happen, and while it feels nice to be looked at like that, he wants your eyes on him. He cradles your face in one hand, making you look at him, and he pecks you. At the contact, you finally nod your head. Jungkook envelops his palm around your fist and guides you to squeeze him harder, groaning onto your mouth.
“You’re such a good girl,” he praises and embraces you, hiding himself in the crook of your neck again, inhaling you. Petrichor, mango, your personal scent. It’s all he wants to breathe in for the rest of his life. It’s what heaven must smell like. Actually, heaven must be what he’s hugging.
You whimper and for it Jungkook tightens his hold around you. Skin to skin. He’ll never get over it. “I love being good for you.”
He hums his approval, following the cascade of your hair down your back with his palm, rooting at your bum, grasping the flesh. “You’re the best girl. Let’s get you clean.”
The loss of contact aches and he can see it even on your face, an adorable pout forming on your mouth. Helping you get in the bathtub, you wait until he joins you and it’s only then that you sit down, unsure of how both of you are going to fit in such a small space like this. Knees in between his, you exchange a few giggles in the awkwardness of it all before Jungkook kisses them and leads you to lean back against him, your spine against his chest, your body getting lost in his.
Turning off the tap, the water is scorching but pleasant, his muscles relaxing, the very little remnants of the fight of his self-blame tearing apart at last. It must be as enjoyable for you because once you settle in and you take in the heat, the effect of the candle, the dimmed light and the soft shower of rain pittering against the windows, you let loose completely, your head slack against his sternum, breathing steadily, eyes fluttering closed. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, your breasts pressed against them, and he loves the feeling of your raw femininity in his hands, in such a nonsexual context. His arousal might be alive and longing for you, but that feeling, somehow, overweighs it in a way he’s unable to understand.
He doesn’t mind; he could stay like this.
And both of you do for some time, feeling each other’s top halves of bodies, resting, thinking of nothing, until you tip your chin and, puckering your lips, you ask for a kiss. Arch your back until your breasts bounce free from his hold. His cock twitches against your back from the sight and you smirk.
Sly little girl. He cages them once again, though this time quite differently. One hand grabs the flesh at the base, the other sneaks to your chin, your other breast nudged in the crook of his elbow. His finger traces the lines of your lips, flattened now, kissing it every once in a while. And as if it was a signal for you to open up when he stalls his movement in the middle, you open up for him. And the feeling of your tongue, the suction of your lips, the sound of it all—it drives him to head down the path of absolute madness.
He might have just found his ultimate weakness.
Jungkook adds a second finger in, when you angle your body, so he can have a good view of it, your head propped against the bathtub wall, lidded eyes fixed on him.
So much for relaxing. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, swiftly, causing your brows to knit in confusion. It humors him, but you’re not getting your way that easily.
“You should relax,” he scolds in a teasing manner, not meaning a word of it. “You’ve had a long day of shopping.”
You laugh through your nose, a soft smile gracing your lips and for a split second, Jungkook wonders if he didn’t ruin the moment again by altering the reality again, bringing back the memory of what’s happened. If he didn’t invite in your guilt, perhaps. You’re here with him, about to be made love to, while the person you still love is dealing with brokenness on the other side of the city.
And he tells you in the form of a kiss sunk into your cheek, drawing your body closer to him, cradling the back of your neck, squishing you against him. It causes you to turn your body to the side, slightly, and Jungkook hikes you higher, letting you lean your face against his cheek like that, pecking you over and over again. There isn’t enough body of water to overspill from the tub, but your shifting caused small waves to lap at your body and Jungkook finds himself transfixed by the sight of it. It seems as though the ripples are worshiping your body and an inkling to do the same, to do better, rises in him—as well as the impulse to tell you with words this time.
He should verbally communicate with you. Just to be safe.
“Did I remind you of it again?”
Your fingertips follow the valleys of his abdomen, half dipped in the water.
“Remind me of what?” you say and there’s a striking gentleness to your voice, some kind of blissfulness that feels terribly foreign to him. “Of my freedom?”
A bearable tightness clutches his chest, interlaced, most heartily, with the simplicity of his shock. Freedom. With his directions, you set yourself free. It should be something to perhaps honor and rejoice over—so why is there still a morsel of pity swarming in him? He needs you to tell him.
A streamlet of tears blurs his vision. Because his clinginess to you intensifies with each move forward, for the most part. Because he feels bad for his friend, for the lesser.
“Why do I feel so bad for him?” Jungkook questions, pressing you harder against him until there isn’t any more space to push you into.
You plop your body onto his. Chest to chest. Tummy to tummy. His cock, a bit soft now, against your femininity. Nonsexually, in all its beauty. You drag your thumbs under his waterline, collecting his essence of pain. His heart constricts.
“My freedom is his,” you say, still holding him like that—both palms on his cheeks. “We’d be stuck in a circle like this. We’d go round and round until one of us would burst and end things eventually. He’d never fully heal in this environment. He’d never look past his own insecurities, not when I’d continue to enjoy myself with you the way I always did.”
He thinks the merry go round had already begun the moment he and Yoongi made up and tried again. And considering the last thing he said to him on the phone today, there’s nothing left to do but to accept it.
Your freedom is his. Those words ring in his headspace, settling there. By unbuckling yourself from the seat of that ride, you did the same for him. And while you got off, Yoongi still remains seated.
For now.
He’ll get out of there. Jungkook believes in him.
“I’m meant to be with you,” you say and his heart goes wild, violently, under your forearm. For you. You’ve said it. You’ve made it official. Brought it into this new reality and Jungkook could weep again—and he does. Touched by his emotions, you kiss his tears, sighing against them. “I’m yours, Jungkook. Have been the moment I looked into your eyes the very first time.”
Your bare, boundless truth drives him to reveal his, too. Such power you have, such strength.
“You know I have feelings for you, right?” he murmurs, an allusion to the way you wept together in the dressing room, brushing your hair back, feeling his tenderness radiating off of his eyes, immensely. How easy it is, to tell you something groundbreaking like that, even as absurdly as he did. “Don’t let go of me. Don’t let go of those feelings. Keep them safe.”
Your own tears pool in your waterline and you nod, a smile glinting upon your lips. So you knew, felt the love like he did, enkindled by your mutual release. He wasn’t wrong. His heart pounds and for the first time upon this trajectory, this doesn’t feel unreal. It feels real. Alive, possible, full of life.
“I do, too. Held them in for so long. Never admitted it to myself for his sake. But that’s over now. I’ll keep it safe. All of you, Jungkook.”
You love him.
His sobs gather in his sternum, his lungs too small to capture them in place.
You love him. And it’s real.
Gripping your hair, he kisses you, deeply. And both streams of tears turn into one river—and both of you can’t halt the hunger creeping in. The hunger for more, for your love to burst at last and absorb your reality. Tongues mingling, tasting something new. Teeth clashing, lips tingling. Breaths hard and ragged. Jungkook can’t take it. Can’t hold back his body from lifting off of the rounded wall of the tub, the water sloshing and splashing all around.
And then you say something that grazes his madness ever so unmercifully.
“Put it in.”
He groans, biting your bottom lip, fingertips making dents on your small waist. Horny girl, asking for something you can’t handle. He swears, his arousal awakening yet again in full speed, taking over him wholly. “I haven’t stretched you out yet.”
You grind your femininity against his tightening cock and he’s done for, feeling your pulse. “Stretch me out like this.”
He squeezes your ass hard, making you moan onto his mouth, in effort to make you listen to him and submit to his better knowing. “It’ll hurt, sweetheart.”
Your breath wafts over him as you close your lips over his, sucking. “I can take it.”
Such a stark contrast to the words you uttered in the dressing room. His madness heightens. So much that he moans into your lip lock, dipping you in the water to make you laugh, clutching onto him as you yelp, your adorable laughter vibrating through the bathroom, bouncing off of the walls and sneaking, in the long run, into the chambers of his heart, coming to live there.
This is happiness.
And the vibrations are too, too much for him to handle. So unusual, so beautiful.
“Hold onto me,” Jungkook commands as he wraps your legs around his torso tighter and rises, stepping out of the bathtub and reaching for a towel in his cabinet while his other hand holds you steady by his forearm under your bum like a child.
Leaving you to your own strength for a second, he wraps the large fabric around you both, bunching the ends in his fist on your back, exiting out of the bathroom and laying you down onto his bed. Your hair sprawls on his bedding and he thinks you look like an angel, maddened just the same by something beyond lust, by something way purer. He kisses your lips, fleetingly, and begins to focus on your neck, unfurling his love there. He sucks your wet skin, licking it all over, scattering his hard kisses there—the ones that drive you wild, moaning loudly and bravely, deservingly so. And he marks this victorious day there with pretty, pretty colors of red and purple. Doesn’t stop. Not until you beg him, writhing underneath him, excited and eager.
“Please, Jungkook, take me.”
Such sweet, innocent words. He listens, cooing, dragging you further up on the bed, so he can lie on top of you and take his hard kisses further down, marking all the places where your invisible tattoos are, bringing them to life all over again. Above both of your nipples, especially on the right one, where that frilly rose was, covering the peak. And he feels you melt, feels you soak his lower abdomen when he sucks on that nub, flicking his tongue, making you cry out so beautifully, so desperately that his arousal for you rigidifies. And when he looks at his artwork, fists propped on either side of you like his knees, it steals all of his breath.
“You look so beautiful like this. All mine.”
All his, wet with the last drops of water, with the pearls of his saliva, with your essence coating your folds. Adorned with red tattoos. He has his own on his arm and hand, except on his chest and he thinks the one he gave you make up for it. Thinks they’re his as much as they’re yours and it causes his length to twitch against his stomach, so terribly needy for you.
“And you look beautiful like this. All hard for me,” you mimic his words and he grows feral, even more so when you continue. “It’s all mine, isn’t it?” You take him into your hand again, but he pins both of your wrists down, above your head. And the smile you grace him with—it makes him yearn to make love to you like this. Bound, while the rest of you would remain the quite opposite.
He growls, kissing you. “All yours. All yours for you to take and come around. All yours, my sweetheart. Always has been.” He kisses you harder and you whimper. Pulls away just to swirl his tongue around yours, open mouth and all, before closing his lips down again in a profound, warm and homely lock. “Spread your legs for me. I’m gonna get you ready for it.”
He does it himself, folding you in half, the glistening of your folds visible even in the slight lack of light in the room. Oh, he can’t have you like this. Reaching behind himself, he turns on his bedside lamp, bathing you in a soft, yellow light that suits you the most. You’re holding your legs apart for him and he places wet kisses on the back of your thigh, ravagedly, to reward you for it, trailing them down until he’s face to face with your drenched princess parts. And it’s a groan of relief that emits out of him when he’s this close to you, hands pushing your knees down, spreading you even more to gratify his hunger.
He’s starving. Terribly starving.
And he rolls his eyes back when he takes the entirety of you into his mouth, tongue dragging upon your slit, up and down, drinking your dew, penetrating only a little bit just to tease you, just to mess around with your madness. And when he flattens his tongue against your swollen clit, you cry out. Surprise him when you grip his hair, enough to cause him to flick his eyes to you. Your mouth is parted, but grinning nonetheless, your own eyes heavily lidded, emitting light and joy and Jungkook simply decides to make this experience better for you.
He lifts your hips in the air and devours you, lapping at your clit over and over again, letting you see what he’s doing to you without taking his eyes off of you, nose pressed against your shiny mound. You whisper your vulgarities and he’d let it pass if he didn’t consider this a holy, spiritual occurrence. He withdraws and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, the way your slick trickles down your clit and your mound, rooting in the squishy part of your lower tummy. He hums, delighting in the sight.
“Be good,” he scolds, smiling down at you and your grin widens. You nod your head, your hands still crossed above you without his to hold them down. Scratch his words—you’re already the best girl. He licks up the trickle of your essence trailing down your clit, making you writhe again. “Feel how wet you are for me.”
Carefully, you skim your palm down your soaked belly, gasping, until your fingers reach your nub, the concoction of his saliva and your arousal seeping into your skin. He encourages you with noises of approval to keep going, bending you even more in half, your back leaning against his thighs, the pads of your fingers circling your center, eyes wide at the discovery, able to see just how celestially aroused you are for him. So beautiful. He bites onto the flesh upon the side of your thigh, only because he can’t help it, soothing down the sting with his tongue. And he hums at the sound of your moans, at the sound of your slipperiness when you drag your fingers down to your clit and stop there.
“Hm, yes, sweetheart, rub that pretty clit for me,” he murmurs and his chest explodes at the principle that he’s able to say that to you. That he doesn’t need anyone’s permission or approval. That he can do whatever he pleases with you without any consequences to reap. That he’s free. You must be thinking about this, too, but in a different way, because you hesitate. He’ll destroy that dubiety. It won’t show its face again—as long as he lives on this earth. “You can do it, my love. You’re free.”
The reassurance washes over you and rids you of that fleeting negativity. He understands this is new for the both of you—there’s some still getting used to, so it’s completely normal. He’ll try his hardest to make this as much of an easy ride for you as he can. It’s his duty.
“Don’t be afraid,” he continues, adding your name, softly. “You’re here with me and you’re safe.”
Jungkook leans over and kisses you. You nod into the kiss and he returns to his position, catching you rubbing your clit, slowly, with two fingers, the other spread on your folds. And both of you moan simultaneously.
“That’s it,” he whispers, enthralled, making way for the sound of your slick to overpower the atmosphere. “That’s my good girl. Make yourself feel good for me.”
You whimper his name, buckling your hips in his hold, squeezing your eyes shut and Jungkook can see the waves of pressure charging your tender body. Now is the time for his participation.
He sinks his middle finger inside, making your eyes pop open and stare him down, just for you to submerge yourself under the surface of that sea of lust and let your irises whisk back. Your walls clench around him and he waits until you speed up your circles to join his other finger, biting his lip to push back his desire to sink himself inside you. He tries to pay little attention to the way he drips for you.
But then you use the rest of your fingers to bring yourself to your climax and Jungkook takes it as a sign. Another finger in, he curls them, fucking you the way you like. Fast, grazing your sweet little spot that beckons your sweat out of your pores and when your pussy drools even more for him, he adds another. You gasp and he knows exactly how you’re feeling, how good this is for you.
“You feel so full, sweetheart, don’t you?” he coos, jackhammering his hand harder and you drench it, completely. He flattens his fingers, allowing you to see the thick sheen and you mewl, a litany of his name spilling along. “You’re so wet. So horny for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna come?”
You scream your agreement, squirming, strumming your fingers harder and this is it for him. He changes direction. Fucks his fingers up and down and your toes curl, chest heaving heavily and you just keep on screaming. A delightful sound.
“Come for me, then. Like the best girl you are.”
You clench around him. So much that he can barely move his fingers, sunk in so deeply. He just flexes them, drawing out your orgasm and you give it to him.
And you’re wet all over again. Sprinkled by pearls upon pearls of your pleasure. He is, too, and it worsens his desperation for you.
You’re panting, but he’s not done with you. Setting you down, he laps up the violent evidence of your orgasm, making you twitch in overstimulation and he eases the pressure of his tongue for you. Sucking on your folds, he decides to mark you there. Just below your hip bone, too. Such intimate places. Perfect for a temporary keepsake like this.
Hovering above you, he circles his tongue tinged with your taste around yours, forcing you to moan again. And he kisses you softly. “You deserved that orgasm.”
You whine, red all over, and Jungkook understands you need more. He pulls away, clutches himself to line up at your entrance, but you stop him.
“I want you.”
He smirks, longs to hear you be more specific. “How?”
You huff. So adorable. “In my mouth.”
He chuckles. Should’ve asked where, but he’s at your service—he’s willing to give you anything you want. “All right, but just for a little bit, okay?” You nod, vehemently, and he pats your cheek. “On your knees.”
Oh, he’ll never tire of the view of your submissiveness, of your hunger for such a private part of him. He makes a mess for you on the towel, dripping more than he ever has, and he holds himself at the base, grabbing your jaw in his hand. Brutality, the one he’s obsessed with, swims past your irises when you gaze up at him. A feral animal, an angel in hiding—he’d love to embellish you with the sticky traces of his fixation, but he shouldn’t, no matter how much he craves it. He can’t stain you, not today. Can’t ruin the holiness. He’ll let you play with him before he seals it for all eternity.
Tomorrow he will. Smear you with it until it’s all your pores know.
Jungkook traces the lines of your mouth with the tip of his length, just like he did with his finger in the bathtub, and you hum, liking it. He can vividly see your yearning to rub your face against him again and he lets you, encourages you in fact, pulling you closer until you nuzzle your nose against his girth, his skin caressing your cheek, and you kiss him all over. Place your hands over his and suck him inside your mouth, drinking his precum. Only to withdraw right away, sit back on your legs without lifting your hands, and look up at him with the vastness of your overbearing innocence and love.
“You’re mine,” you purr, fucking him with your fist.
Jungkook nods, just once. Doesn’t even feel his butterflies anymore, too numbed by you, by the pleasure you’re giving him. “That’s right, my love.”
You suck in a breath, biting your lip hard as if it took all of your energy not to make him come at this very instant. And you lengthen your spine, asking for a kiss again, and he bends at the waist, kissing you nastily, pushing your head back to his cock, inciting you to do what you truly crave to.
And you take him so well, your cheeks hollow, and he’s unabashed, free to let out his male noises, whimpering for you, panting heavily as you bob your head, slurping him, spitting on him. You toy with his tip, tugging at his length, colliding into his fist and it isn’t until you rub your face against his balls that it becomes his undoing. He stalls his orgasm, strains to do so, just to please you and he pries your hands away from his length, lets you focus on his sack. The least he could do to last. But then you grab it into your fist, sucking his balls, one by one, into your mouth, even try to take both of them at once and that’s it. He can’t breathe, his heart wringing painfully with all the love that brims in him for you. No one has ever done that to him.
You flick your tongue against them, your other hand wrapping around his tip again, tugging and he nears dangerously close to the bursting of his orgasm.
“That’s enough.”
He draws you away from his cock, using all of his strength, and pins you down. A splutter of your giggles waft in the air, your chin wet with your spit and he moves his mouth so rapidly against yours that you struggle to kiss him back, growing calm all of a sudden, as if overcome with the gravity of it all.
He looks at you for a long while. Puffy, red mouth, that he craves to bite onto—and he does. Darkened eyes, full of freedom and exhilaration. Neck, chest, tummy and the rest of the delicious parts of you scattered with hickeys, with his own personal keepsakes. He loves you so much that he becomes frustrated, needing to let it out somehow. All of his muscles tense and he clenches his grip on your wrists.
“You want me to die? Is that what you want?” he hisses, speaking of the sloppy blowjob you gave him, gliding his wet cock across your seashell. You lose a breath, drowsy eyes fluttering, spreading your legs for him. No wonder you’re tired—you gave it your all. He sinks his teeth hard into his bottom lip, his frustration rising, brows knitted. “You can’t play with me like that. I was seconds away from coming all over your pretty face.”
“I wanted you to,” you say, loud and clear, and Jungkook is hot all over.
Turning you over to your side, he squeezes the flesh of your bum until it hurts as a punishment, knowing you’re not ready for the full thing. It’s too soon. Your wincing breaks into a low, alluring moan and it fills him with adrenaline. And then you smile at him, light flashing in your countenance. You’re anything but punished; you’re pleased.
Looks like you need another form of punishment.
Fuck it, fuck all spiritual aspects of this. The angels in heaven need to look away for now and cover their ears. He’s going to make love to you in a way they’ve never witnessed before and it’s good that they never will.
“What did you say?” Jungkook feignedly questions, pinning you back down and burying himself in your heat. Having stretched you out well enough, he gives you his half right away, but he doesn’t stop there, not when you lift your chest off of the mattress, not when you lose yourself in the sudden fullness and the music of your mutual moans. You grip him so tight that he forgets, for a split moment, what he’s punishing you for.
You stammer, seemingly forgetting, too. And when his mound kisses yours, your words falter altogether—a crescendo into silence. Eyes wide, unblinking, taking him most courageously. Jungkook hums, immensely proud of you, slowly pounding you into the mattress with hard strokes.
And when he gives you a particularly unmerciful one, you scream, shaking all over in his hands.
“Yes, sweetheart, that’s what you get,” he purrs, grinding his hips, loving the way he toys with your senses, your peaked nubs digging into his chest, and you can’t catch your breath, your whole body tense. “Too deep?”
You nod. “Too deep, baby, I can’t take it, fuck. It’s too much.”
Cooing, he kisses you. The pet name, your tightness—he’s losing his mind and it’s your fault. Your wonderful, wonderful fault. You don’t even let him pull out, you keep him caged in, your walls fluttering against him and he whimpers, shaking like you, unable to continue kissing you.
“Relax, my love, or you’re really gonna kill me,” he croaks out, ascending to heavenly places where they don’t, in most certainty, don’t want to see him. Sitting back on his feet, he thumbs your clit, helping you calm down. “Good girl. Feels good, stuffed full like this? My thumb rubbing your sweet little clit, hm?”
It is a miracle, the way he knows your body and knows what to do with it because your walls loosen, enabling him to fuck you, sloppily, your slick squeaking along with your quickening breaths. You scream out your yeses, driving him to give you his all.
“Just like that,” he whispers, approving, his balls tightening already, the pressure in his lower tummy becoming bigger.
You deserve the full thing, though. Jungkook places your knee on his shoulder. And with each stroke, his mound stimulates your clit, getting you nice and fast to his level.
He cradles your blissed-out face, the heel of his palm putting pressure on your throat. And onto that expression of elation, he uncoils his love for you, brutally fucking you until your whole body ripples beneath him.
“Whose are you, huh?” he moans, driving into you, rearranging your guts. Sweat drips off of his forehead. “Whose pretty girl are you?”
Your own sounds of pleasure rise in pitch and volume and he senses, he knows you’re about to come for him.
“Yours, Jungkook, yours,” you choke out and he’s so proud of you that he hums, his balls slapping against your bum, and he kisses you, giving you his tongue. You suck on it, getting him right there to the edge of his orgasm.
“Fuck, such a good girl. All mine. You know that I love you, right?”
And the once reappearing absurdity of his choice of words pushes over that edge and you squeeze him, squeeze him hard, milking his cum out of you and he growls into your mouth. You take over each and every one of his senses, making them yours, and he fucks his cum into you, his mouth smacking against yours, as you whisper your I love you’s and he swallows them down.
Heaven or something beyond. You created it and he wants to spend the rest of his life there.
Panting, he kisses your jaw, marking you there for the last time. Unbelief grasping him that he finds himself in such a place glazed with love. “You love me?”
You whimper, shuddering all over, your orgasm still seizing you. “I love you so fucking much.”
He licks into your mouth, ending your release. “My best girl. I’ll take care of you. I’ll never let you go. You’re never getting out of my sight again.”
Jungkook lets go of your wrists. They must be cramping, tingling and he massages them in the air, sitting back, his length still inside your homely heat. Your eyes wet again, sobs break out of your mouth and he shushes you most affectionately, his heart twinging. He lifts you and sits you down on his lap, hugging you close to his chest. Skin to skin. You cling to him with everything in you and he holds you together, so you don’t fall apart.
“You’re my savior. My healer,” you wail, gripping his hair. As if your breaking wasn’t enough, your words hit him hard and his vision soaks along with yours. You’ve never told him that before—never told him the roles he has in your life. He appreciates them so much, holds them dear to his heart. Never wants to forget them. “Don’t ever leave me, please. I beg you.”
It’s him who now breaks. Right there on your shoulder, beneath the waterfall of your hair.
“I could never. You’re my life. You’re my everything. How could I ever leave you?”
You sob harder, lifting your head, and the sight of your rawness makes him fall even more in love with you. Jungkook smooths down your hair and wipes away your tears. Kisses you, deeply, and lingers there. And along with the kiss, you and him exchange your last I love you’s for the night.
Tub drained, candle snuffed out, cheese balls devoured, the rain finishing like that chapter of your life—Jungkook feels himself entering a brand new one with you, one where Yoongi isn’t present, as he dresses you in his clothes. For panties, he slinks your legs into his boxers, keeping them warm with a pair of his own joggers. Then, he tugs his hoodie down your head, pushing your arms through the sleeves. Smirks at the way his clothes fit you well. As if they were your own. At the way he matches with you.
He overflows with a thrumming life.
A brand new chapter filled with myriads of different, ecstatic possibilities. And you seal them to completion, when tucked in bed, lying on his chest, you sleepily utter the first prospect that you want to bring to life.
“Will you take me to your cabin tomorrow?”
His breath hitches in his throat. He never thought he’d be returning there so soon, especially not with you. His mouth quirks up, body suffused with a foreign excitement, and right away he deduces the reason why you want to go there.
“You really want that dildo, don’t you?”
You merely laugh through your nose.
Oh, he’s calling in sick tomorrow. Will take you there first thing in the morning. Will do absolutely anything for you.
“I’ll fuck you hard with it until you completely drench it, then. Sleep for now, so we can get to tomorrow.”
You kiss his clothed chest. Nuzzle your face in it. Whisper your thank you. Jungkook pretends he didn’t just get hard all over again.
“Good night,” you say.
He pecks your hair. “Good night, sweetheart.”
© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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#jungkook x oc#yoongi smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts imagine#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#btscreatorscorner#kpop smut#jungkook one shot#yoongi x oc#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine
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★ 01. 𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗣𝗦! 𝗜 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡.
"You know we'll have to tell her eventually."
"Well, eventually ! Not right now."
The voices kept arguing nonstop. On the other hand, you were absolutely petrified. Your thoughts raced, you felt like your heart stopped for three whole minutes now and your hands were shaking. A part of you wanted to run, go to your room and lock yourself in there, but something inside you knew that even if you tried, those two strangers would hear you and you'd get caught.
There were also your pets, were they anywhere near? The fact that they mentioned their names freaked you out a lot, but there was no time to waste thinking about something that could be as simple as a coincidence.
In conclusion, you needed to grab your pets and get out of there. Around you was only useless decoration that you couldn't use as a weapon even if you tried your best to inagine it. However, you had a plate! Better than nothing. You could just..Smash it on the stranger's head or something. In a timespan of 30 seconds your mind already had a plan; stop shaking, think straight and run.
So you did, a strong wave of confidence getting into you and—
CRACK!
The loud sound filled the silence.
You did not stop shaking.
Actually, it was the dirty plate you were grabbing that slipped from your hands, fell and broke into many pieces. You gasped in horror at this as your body was getting ready to run. Before you could even react, the door was suddenly opened and a pair of bright blue eyes was looking at you.
Staring right at you, a conflicted expression on the stranger's face.
"Y/N?"
He was tall, way taller than most men you've ever known. He had gorgeous silky white hair and lashes that made his blue eyes even more mesmerizing. Not only that, but you also found out the other voice was another breathtaking-looking man; straight long black hair, dark eyes and attractive features. In a normal situation you would be amazed and even a little embarrassed to be so close to men as handsome as them, but right now all you saw was danger. They broke into your house, were arguing about something between the lines of lying and finding out — were they perhaps talking about some kind of crime? God, that's even worse —, not to mention they were a few feet away from you. That's close enough to stab you if they wanted to.
"We can explain, we mean no harm at all."
Yeah, sure.
You stayed silent, really wanting to ask so many questions but no words came out of your mouth. Now that you've noticed, they were wearing familiar clothes. The white haired boy was wearing..were those choso's pants that he left weeks ago at your home when you had a beach hangout and you swore you didn't find when he claimed he left them at your house? Not only that, all of their clothes were either dirty and torn off shoes mixed with shirts you considered long time gone.
"Who are you?"
The black haired guy placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder, looked like it was his time to talk now.
"Listen, I need you to calm down. Please, we will answer every question."
"Suguru, c'mon please don't—"
"Every. Question." He glanced at the male, frowning. "You knew this was going to happen, I told you."
He angry-whispered as he softened his expression not to look too intimidating, looking at you now. You took a few steps back, not caring about the broken plate's sharp pieces scattered on the floor. Luckily enough, you didn't step on it.
"I want every single one answered." You looked at them up and down, realizing that you were still too close to your liking. "And distance if you don't want me to call the police right now."
Their expressions sharpened. Oh, so they were scared of the police.
Nice, you could use that to your advantage later.
"Okay. Are you calm now?"
"No, but— fuck, let's be real, i will never calm down in this situation. Now, what are you doing here?"
There was an awkward silence where both boys looked at eachother while thinking of a response. The white haired boy responded this time;
"Just passing by and saw the window open."
Not only you, but the other guy looked at him as if he had no brain at all. He sighed and shook his head, giving up.
"so that's why you're wearing my clothes that i lost weeks ago? You just found them when i've been looking for them for ages? And knew my name too?"
"Satoru, just keep quiet."
Ah, that again.
"Satoru", just like your dog.
Satoru, was he okay? Was suguru hiding too? You couldn't help but think about them right now. They must be scared, maybe sleeping not knowing you're having the worst time of your life, and hopefully they're safe too.
"My pets. Did you do anything to them? I swear I'll call the police right now if something happened."
The black haired man looked at you, actually looked at you. Like he was trying to find the words to throw some horrifying news in your face.
"We are fine."
"We?"
"Satoru," he signaled to the white haired boy. "and suguru." Then, he pointed to himself. "We are fine."
They kept silent. You laughed. Laughed so, so loud. This had to be some kind of bad joke, something to make you pay for all of your mistakes in your past life. Something about you felt some kind of relief for a minute.
"Oh my god— man, were you two sent by shoko? Tell her she's not funny at all. I almost believed you broke into my house for real!" You opened your hand, offering it to them."Just give me the keys and I'll let it pass."
Silence once again. You kept laughing until the sound of your laughter faded, looking confused as to why they didn't give you the keys yet. In fact, they didn't even have something in their hands neither did it look like they had something in their pockets.
So naturally, you were confused at first. How could your pets become humans in the first place?
And then it hit you.
Hybrids.
They could if they were hybrids, and that would only mean that you've been taking care of hybrids this whole time.
"Wait a second, because that just can't be."
"It can. Don't the similarities look too familiar to you? Look, i have the same eyes and hair as when i am a dog. And look at sugu! He's got—"
"No, it can't be."
You denied to believe the truth. Yes, the dots connected and it all made sense now; the clothes, the argument that you heard, the fact that they knew your name..but it couldn't be. Satoru and Suguru couldn't be hybrids.
"Because you refuse to believe hybrids exist? Y/N, the government already confirmed it." Satoru spoke softly, trying not to push any buttons. "We are hybrids."
"You are killers."
You shot the bullet.
And their faces said it all. Satoru's sweet tone while trying to explain it to you faded into silence and Suguru's eyes held a feeling of conflict, hurt. They expected you to think that, of course, but their imagination could never get close to your cold voice full of betrayal as you pronounced those words. Satoru tried to reach for you, his hand barely unnoticeably shaking as he tried to touch you to hold you and assure you everything he needed to say before you said those words again.
But you smacked his hand.
And It hurt more than it should have. It burned a piece of his soul.
"I know what hybrids have done. I know that you kill us humans just because you think you're better. Was it just that? You came into my life just to take it, to kill me?"
Satoru just stared at you, looking away soon after hearing that not being able to meet your gaze. You really thought they would kill you right now?The idea of even hurting you made them feel sick. If they wanted to, they would have done it so long ago.
But they didn't.
Because they, hybrids, had a home just like humans do. Somewhere, someone to call a home.
"Y/N, we would never hurt you." Suguru, observing that his friend was unable to defend himself any further, talked. "You are precious to us. That's why we didn't tell you, look at you right now."
Suguru took a step further, slowly approaching you.
"This is not what we want. If we wanted to do something bad to you, we would already have so long ago."
Another step.
"So please, trust us and let us explain. We're not what you think we are."
You hesitated but let Suguru get closer while you did so. He place his hand on your shoulder, making you look up to him. He was so alike to your cat it felt surreal. Same long black hair and dark brown eyes that, if the sunlight illuminated them, turned into a beautiful honey color. He even smelled the same as his scented pet shampoo. Swallowing, you nodded.
This was the craziest thing that ever happened to you.
And you were just accepting it.
Maybe that made you guilty aswell.
"You two have exactly 10 minutes to explain every single thing from the start. No tricks allowed."
You think you've never seen brighter smiles in your life after you said that.
Now you were in bed with Suguru since satoru offered to clean the broken plate pieces all over the floor while you two talked. You were facing eachother, and he was keeping his distance as he promised he would do.
Until now, everything he explained to you was mind-blowing. He started with the government lying about them, and that's when you understood why they didn't want you to call the police. He admitted that they never did something like killing or attacking someone impulsively "just because of their animal instinct" which you now believed. So now, you were just laying in bed staring at the ceiling with him. Different types of questions were still on your mind, but Suguru said that you can wait until tomorrow now that the important things are cleared and he didn't want to overwhelm you.
However, there was still one thing you needed to know.
"Hey, Suguru."
"Mhm?"
"Isn't there anything I could do? To help you both."
He didn't even think about it, answering immediately.
"No."
"Why not? Can't I just.. talk to your people like they do in the movies?"
Suguru laughed a little, happy that you were comfortable enough to make jokes. He had such a light laughter that matched his soft voice perfectly.
"I'm afraid not."
"But you didn't answer my other question. Why not?"
"Because we are killers, Y/N."
You stopped looking at the ceiling stare at him and when your eyes looked to your side to do so, you found out he was already staring at you calmly. That stressed you a little, what he just said didn't make sense compared to what he had claimed an hour ago and you were not in the mood to get scared again.
"But you said you didn't kill anyone."
"We didn't." He paused, a sad smile across his face. "Hybrids do. And as long as we live, we'll always be seen as equals."
There was nothing else said after he said that. It left you thinking about how cruel life is to them, while he looked as peaceful as ever. He already assimilated it, that's how hard it was for them.
Be born as a killer, die as one too.
"Suguru."
He hummed again in response, maybe wondering why were you asking so many questions when he already said he would answer them all tomorrow.
"You're still hiding something from me, aren't you?"
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.🌷
—𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: first chapter done! We had mostly suguru here, but next chapter we'll have a lot of satoru and a new character to the story ;).
(also, reminder that english is not my first language. Please dm me any mistakes you might find to fix them asap!)
@kingshitonly @snake-lover-artist-blog @ashers-playpen @pizza-market @channies-bbg-room @pdacex @spindyl @foliea
—𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧
#choso x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#geto suguru x you#gojo imagine#jjk drabbles#jjk gojo#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru#romance#fanfic#hybrid!au#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki#yuji itadori#choso fluff#choso kamo x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#sukuna#gojo x reader#geto x reader
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