#satiated x jjk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venusiansilk · 2 months

Text

🏹 CUPID’S QUIVER.

꒰ love is blind, but it sees all. although satoru should know better, love becomes a lunacy he clings to until he can’t anymore. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. f!reader. semi-curse, mythology au. angst/tragedy. fluff. soft smut. strangers to lovers ⇝ star-crossed. satoru follows the reader a lot. body worship. satoru is eros + ares, love/war god. reader is a museum director. blends aspects of cupid x psyche lore + jjk cts. 15.5k. nsfw. ୧ ‧₊ header ‧ playlist.

ACT I. UNDER THE GAZE OF LUDUS, BY SONG OF ITS LAUGHTER.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is fickle, love is knowing. it lives and dies a thrilling spectacle.

SATORU.

the delirium bred from gentleness. it inspires, emboldens, and molds the fiery depths of passion in its hands. but love is a screeching sticky thing, all madness and frenzy nonetheless, coated in complicated and bittersweet nectar that clings to whatever it dares to touch. love is satoru.

of course, satoru knows of love, embodies everything it both is and has the potential to become if made free and not contained within the divinity of his spirit. he knows that love is saccharine sweet and he knows the grip it leaves behind in flesh is bloodied, a talon embedded impossibly deep. it’s not the type of thing that breathes or expands in languid pulsations; it grasps and digs and pours, flooding you with its delusion. but a mouthpiece for mania. love is the world satoru sees through his six eyes, all contained and divided in his left eye and right — his eros, one called ardor ꒰ with its three eyes: mania, pragma, and ludus ꒱, and ares ꒰ with its three eyes: alecto, tisiphone, and megaera ꒱. love is the thick, enchanted fabric that serves as a holding for them both. cupid’s quiver, that’s what the other gods taunt — but still, their breaths catch in their throats if he motions to pull off the sheath, to unleash the world he sees on all of the others in quick and inescapable shots, the tips of blue and red eros mingling and devouring until the world is made hollow by an incendiary purple. of course, he stops himself and forbids such an outcome. after all, love is patient; love is kind. but of course, he rivals with the temptation of it, too. after all, love is greedy; love is evil. as long as he loves, there will always exist a degree of love that is something akin to hatred. truth be told, more than anything, satoru hates the gods and wishes he could leave them all to crumble under the weight of his influence, but he doesn’t want to be stuck with managing the chaos he would create with his otherwise innocent glances. and the old gods would surely try to punish him even more. he can’t find the adoration in dancing around destruction. there’s no delight in dysfunction. as such, he can’t bring himself to fold in a despicable and foolish fashion. instead, he both hides and dwells in a comfort zone — a place that’s more a margin between worlds, crafted just for him by kenjaku the phanes himself, a limbo of sorts he can stretch at will. he calls it his infinity, an endless space where he chooses to gaze upon both the mortal world and the divine. it keeps him out of harm’s way, keeps him from being made into a weapon, and keeps him from making grave mistakes like falling prey to the devastation of his own curses again. he’s not immune to a desire and need for love. he tries to satisfy his urges by living vicariously through others and satiates his impulses of distaste through semi-harmless trickery. sometimes, he tugs the left side of his quiver and lets out a soft call to signal his favorite eros, ardor. ꒰ when there’s no will, which of its eyes will peek falls to the whims of the eros. ꒱ “red,” he’ll breathe it quietly, eyes locked on a target. he’ll feel the pressure building in the center of his eye for only a moment before a shining strip of red gleams across the space between him and his target, his eros piercing through time and space to reach its mark. when it hits — depending on the strength of his eros and which of its eyes he wills to gaze — it gives the mark a burst of affection, a rush of hormones, a flutter in their chest that explodes into unyielding devotion, or perhaps, it merely sows the seeds for love to flourish and ferment — ardor does have a bias for yearning. other times, he calls himself distributing “fair misfortune” by finding individuals undeserving of ardor’s loving embrace and instead making them familiar with its cold shadow, his other eros, ares. “blue,” he’ll whisper as if afraid to be heard in the cube of his eternal silence. he’ll carefully lift the fabric over his right eye, the building of the same pressure but thicker, and he’ll watch his spiteful eros seethe and slice through anything to reach its mark. it offers only distaste on the tip of the tongue of your desired, a petulant weapon that embodies all of existence with the smallest degree of love.

all that remains is anger and confusion, disgust and despair, revulsion and repulsion. neither of his eros ever misses a shot, but these are delights he’s only supposed to indulge in sparingly, and harmlessly. that is, until right now, as he stands in front of yuki the aphrodite, staring at her beautifully crude expression with disdain. he tries to process her odd request. “you want me to do what now?” satoru asks again, face bunching in perplexity. yuki sighs, evidently agitated by satoru’s response and demeanor. she’s always been a peculiar goddess to him, always adored and admired but never understood. no one could ever make sense of her motives, and for being the embodiment of beauty and pleasure, satoru has never seen her act in light of a beautiful spirit or intent. her poise gleams with a chimerical radiance but satoru knows her heart is a shadowless void. in front of him, she lies prettily across pearly marble, draped in robes threaded by the shimmer of stars the astraeus personally plucked from the cosmos for her. yuki’s light-colored hair flows in fluffy waves that sink to the floor, a perfect golden river to watch flow down. “you heard me. find the mortal girl choso dares to claim’s beauty can rival mine and shoot her with one of your little eros, make her fall in love with a pig or something — nothing cute, either, something ugly and brutish, one that smells of grime — and return to me so i can see for myself.” the aphrodite is ruled by her pride, by her demand to be revered and highly regarded, acknowledged for power with only insidiousness to show for it. satoru believes gods that practice no restraint and show no mercy exemplify the very things he detests about his precious blue eros, his ares. at least ares is contained, albeit forcibly. satoru’s eyes are glistening, crystalline prisons each of his eros lives behind. “i see you’ve lost your mind to vanity entirely.” satoru grumbles. “i won’t be doing that.” “what?” yuki sneers, nose squishing in irritation. with a sympathetic hum, satoru shakes his head. “i won’t be doing that and i’m insulted you’d think to even ask me — or rather, demand of me. i’m not one of your little things, yuki.” satoru stands upright, shoulders squared as he sees yuki clearly through the fabric covering his eyes. he’s immune to her wiles with his quiver, he’s found. but still, she makes him unbearably nervous. “satoru, do you forget who you speak to? i am beauty and pleasure embodied! you would really think to reject my request?” he looks around for a moment. “uh…yes. do you forget who you speak to? if you’re beauty and all the subsequent notions, why do you even care how a mortal girl’s prettiness measures?” “well,” she huffs, sitting upright, a perfect pout on her lips that any other man would become a pool of liquid over. “choso believes such a thing. choso.” confused, satoru just stares. “and that’s negating your divinely bestowed perfection how?” yuki’s frustration erupts and a cloudy fluff comes flying at his head. satoru doesn’t flinch and doesn’t move as the object hits the barrier of his infinity, and then the floor, in a soundless heap. “if you, a literal love god, can’t fathom why i don’t want choso’s eyes to stray from me, then you’re no god but a pitiful fool!” she wails. satoru sighs. “i have more important things to do in that realm than help you bully mortal girls at your discretion for taking one of your many lovers’ attention away from you without knowing you exist.” yuki clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. “you do nothing there worth mentioning. you merely fooled kenjaku the phanes into making you a precious domain to dwell in. you’re perfectly protected from everything while nothing is protected from you, if you don’t want them to be. don’t mock me when you’re a coward fashioned as a god.”

satoru didn’t fool kenjaku, per se, but he certainly exploited his favor by exaggerating the peril associated with his capacity, so much so that kenjaku the phanes gave him a prison realm to lock himself in or free himself from at will. he goes into it habitually with a thick will but seldom contains the will to be released. it is for his safety; it is for the safety of others. but it’s more a place he can breathe freely without the fear and disdain others regularly teem with when near him. he can feel all of it, and does. being a god does not make him indestructible to the irrational whims of emotion. in fact, satoru would argue that being a creature of love’s spectrum means he is the irrational whims of emotions. ꒰ he can never teeter too far in either direction, lest kenjaku take the privilege of his will from infinity; then, he’ll only have endless imprisonment. of course, satoru can never let the other gods know of this clause, as he’s certain they’ll betray him before geto the helios’s sun sets across the pillowy skies. ꒱ the other gods are bitter, but satoru’s unusual manifestation of his divine might is deeply concerning. ꒰ when he was born, gods gouged out their eyes to be free of his gaze, to be liberated from the understanding that whether his eros of madness or bliss would strike is unknown, but the degree of its damage is devastation and ruin. brilliance followed by a rapid decay. he only controls them with his quiver. should it be taken, it would set all of chaos free in every blink. ꒱ so, what yuki says isn’t false, but it isn’t true, either. any other time, satoru would have left the vain aphrodite unfulfilled and physically shaking with the pain of his rejection, but today, satoru’s interest is admittedly piqued.

what mortal could possibly surpass beauty and grace itself?

“i’ll go see this girl, and if she’s of threat, i’ll indulge your dreadful desires, but if she’s nothing short of a mortal girl who commits no crime against humanity nor divinity by challenging your appearance — which i’m certain of — then…i’ll simply leave you to suffer the same fate as toji the apollo for wasting my time.” her eyes go wide at the sight of his nonchalant shrug and she gasps. “you! you beast of a man! honestly! you preach and prattle about this and that only to threaten to use your eros to make my lover despise me and repel my presence after making me lovesick for them? i can be no worse than you.” “objectively false, you can. and are. but it’s irrelevant to argue.” he grouses with a deep sigh. “i regretfully ask…what do you know of her?” satoru’s sickened by both the perfection and menace in her grin, but yuki lulls her head back to bask in the warmth of geto the helios’ sun.

the first time he sees you, it feels a little jarring. guided by the hands of geto’s sun, satoru finds you quickly. his awe ricochets around his spirit, bouncy and delighted, but his gaze on you — everything about you is pristine, vivid and vibrant. it stirs something in him, makes his chest erupt with fluttering feelings and feathery tickles. for a being born of the flawed, you’re too close to perfect. you’re the furthest from aphrodite and yet, your own charms are whimsical and songlike, your aura chiming around you in a sweet symphony that falls upon his spirit and strikes him with wonder. inside of a large building where the art of painters and sculptors alike are displayed, an ode to the apollo no doubt, you wander tirelessly with a chipper smile on your face and a skip in your step. your joy never falters and neither do you. your eyes are twinkling like you woke and strung the flickers of dying stars inside them for good measure. giddy, cheeks full with elation like you’re gluttonous for it. you smile and smile, and everyone smiles with you, for you, because of you. admirably charming, hands sweep around you in a flurry while your mouth makes shapes and babbles out words he can’t make out. satoru gauges your context through rigourous observation: the motions of your arms, the twitch of your smile, the little spark of curiosity in your eyes or the determination that combusts there, too. for a blink, satoru understands yuki’s frustrations with your existence. he stands there, a dreadful stirring in his heart, emotions twisting and knotting until they squeeze tight in his gut and make his right eye thrum. all of these people get to speak to you. their ears get to taste the drizzling honey of your voice. they get to receive the unfurling tenderness in their hearts from direct eye contact with you. it makes him feel ill, disgustingly ill. right away, he hates it. he becomes the pinnacle of what it means to detest. he does understand that such feelings are unreasonable, but neither love nor war is a source of reason, only madness. so of course, in self-interest and personal eccentricities ꒰ with a pinch of spite toward yuki the aphrodite to sate the crueller parts of him ꒱, he decides to watch you, to observe you closely and with great focus. for a moment, he becomes your adoring shadow, hiding within infinity’s soundless clutch where you can’t hear or see him and he’s only able to capture faint murmurs of you. he’s grateful he can see you, that no matter where you go, he can simply follow. with his limits, of course. ꒰ he’s no sukuna the zeus and certainly no yuki the aphrodite. ꒱ satoru can still admire you like this, enamored and elusive. well, until he’s standing next to you, glancing over your shoulder to read the same words you do and imagining the embosoming sound of your voice as you read them, when you turn to face him. you jolt and jump, a feathery yelp, then immediately look up at him with a soft smile, blinking to reclaim the loss in your composure. your lips are misshapen by the fright you swallow down as you take notice of him. “oh goodness! you scared me. d-do you need help with anything?” satoru stands there, dazed and stupefied for a few reasons:

one. you can see him, which means he let his will to keep his infinity standing tall waver. two. your voice is drenched in silky allure, a touch of benevolence over a thick layer of compassion. three. you’re utterly bewitching, a spellbinding loveliness that lingers. four. he can sense your saffron ghost seeping into spaces it shouldn’t; he knows the scent of you will be what haunts him.

a small gasp, your words threaded by worry as you cautiously place a hand on his arm. “sir, do you have a visual impairment? did you lose your aid?” “no, no,” satoru breathes. “i see quite clearly. my eyes…they’re…sensitive.” you blink, riddled with confusion. “sensitive?” taking in his words, you hurriedly take a step back from him, a flimsy infinity of your own to keep him out. he’s no sukuna, so he’ll respect the obvious boundary you’re placing. “then…” your voice trails, quieter now, a lullaby’s endeavor, cautious but calculating as you observe him. “is there something you’re looking for?” and satoru isn’t entirely certain why, but he feels bashful, embarrassed, and ashamed. the tint of roseate spills across his face, filling the point of his nose and cheeks. then, in an instant, he’s gone from your vision, safely tucked behind a thick wall of space and time, watching your eyes go round with astonishment, paralyzed and unable to speak. he watches you blink at the spot he stood for a few minutes before you slowly reach your hand out and run it through the space. satoru, amused but still flustered, can’t fight the breathy chuckle that tumbles out of him. he watches the alarm contort your face, finding your deep state of confusion adorable by every perceivable measure. a beauty that rivals that of the aphrodite? no, one that surpasses it.

ACT II. A GARDEN IN WHICH ONLY MANIA BLOOMS.

love is blind but it sees all; love is protection, love is obsession. it snarls as much as it sings. it bares teeth to smile and to bite down.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is an open palm, love is a tight fist. it clings to only notions that mean it will persist.

SATORU.

satoru feels that keeping his closeness is inevitable. his presence becomes more like a game he plays with you. you wander around and he matches your every step, a lingering thing that follows you pathetically and waits for you to look for him, waits for your inquisitive, questioning eyes to sweep the span of the room in knowing suspicion, remembering him and his interesting marvels. his disappearing acts. aside from that, he can feel the way your heart yearns for an explanation, as desire is a direct line to he and the favor of ardor. his heart thumps each time he’s flooded with the feeling of your meek tug on him. the warmth of you is always everywhere then, filling and shaping around his bones. he likes to appear before you when he catches you ruminating about him, when you wrestle with your notions in your lonesome as if to breed the thought that he was summoned by you rather than obsessively taking every step with you. he only does it when you’re at this place where your labor is kindness and assistance, watching you relentlessly. only when you’re here, only when you come to this altar where toji the apollo himself would weep at the worship mortals have made of his artistic devotions. only when you willfully become part of this public spectacle. it feels fair and respectfully intrusive.

since we’re all here to observe you.

that’s his discipline with himself, how he stops his heart from rotting from the pleasures of luxuriating in the sight of you, how he stops ardor or ares from making a mess of his divinity entirely, both monsters but harmless so long as he maintains his sanity. a smirk as his infinity dissolves. “are you thinking about me again?” satoru never tires of the way you squeak when he casually unveils himself. only fondness ferments in his chest when your eyes widen and your hands fly over your mouth to conceal the sound of sharp surprise. you always stare at him in awe for a moment. “you,” you murmur, your hand pointing right at him. satoru sighs with a smile. “me,” he watches you go through the motions of disbelief — slapping your own face and pinching your cheeks to test the limits of your dreams. “why do you keep doing this?” you inquire in distress, brows furrowed as you clutch your head in your hands. “are you a ghost?” satoru can’t fight the way his lips curl into a smile as he cracks a heart-shimmering laugh. “you think i’m an apparition?” “i don’t know what i think!” you whisper harshly, eyes pointing around the perimeter as you fear being heard talking to yourself. again. “okay? but there’s no way you’re real. i’m losing it.” “real or false, you worry about the wrong things, i fear.” he informs you as he rests in a seat. “i keep telling you exactly who i am.” you give him a hard look, one that he adores as much as the smile you reserve for your patrons, and you snort. “as if i believe you’re the love god, cupid.” “cupid is such a weak-willed name you mortals have plagued me with. even the other gods spite me over it. it’s nowhere near as bolstering as satoru the eros, love and war’s divine archer.” he announces himself in a wistful voice that makes the corner of your mouth subtly twitch. your face painted in feigned surprise, you ask, “you? a divine archer?” “yes, me. a divine archer. is that amusing?” his head leans to the side as he notes your biting smile. “no, no,” you shake your head. “it’s just…you don’t seem like the kind with good aim? you know, perpetual blindfold and all.” satoru huffs a laugh. “looks are as deceiving as love and war.” “hm…” you look him over critically, a finger resting against your chin before you motion at his body. “if you’re cupid and an archer, where’s your bow? and your arrows? wings? why aren’t you more cherub-like?” satoru’s lips curl and curve in disgust of your notion. “cherub-like? i’d rather die. i don’t need your useless, manmade tools. my eyes are my bow; the eyes of my eyes are my arrows. this perpetual blindfold is a quiver that holds them, lest i douse the world in the devoted delusions of love in its totality and leave it bleeding out war, an endless wound that cannot dissolve until nothing is left. you would never want to see my wings. it would mean the aforementioned.” baffled and mortified, that’s how his tactless remarks leave you. you awkwardly squeak and clamp your lips shut tight, looking down as your eyes squint in confusion. “i…forget i asked.” you jostle your head as if to shake away the memory of his admission. “even if you actually are cupid, your true title’s too long. carving it in stone and etching it in gold would’ve been a big hassle for such a morbid freak.” satoru’s eyes narrow, masked by his quiver. “are you mocking me, pretty thing?” “considering i think i’ve lost my mind, i’m mocking myself.” you grumble and grip your head. “how do i make you go away? how do i get you out of my mind?” he hums, a finger tapping on his chin before he shrugs and chirps, “you don’t.” you pause, cocking your head to the side. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” he stands and stretches to his full height. “i’ve taken an interest in you, and i don’t see myself growing apathetic anytime soon. the scandal of it all is thrilling enough; everyone in the olympus murmurs about the mortal girl that supposedly rivals even aphrodite’s beauty, but only myself and two others have actually seen you. i can’t say i’ve had my fill of being greedy with you.” for a moment you’re quiet, staring at him as you take in his words. then, you clutch your gut as you begin bellowing. you laugh so loudly it startles him. it sends him into the center of a blossoming, though, an abrupt descent. the sound of it makes his heart burst with a fondness so sweet, his head feels airy and light. if you could see his eyes, you would witness the moment he falls into a pool of ensnared devotion and drowns. instead, you hear him huff as his palms curl into tender fists. “now i know you’re lying.” you say through giggles. “is this an elaborate pick-up scheme? me, a rival of aphrodite’s beauty? who says that?” even his irritation is polluted by admiration and passion. “it’s only the truth. you caught the eye of choso the aether. that’s one of the gods the aphrodite enjoys tinkering with so it’s left her feeling embarrassed and looked down on. she wants me to have a look at you…and humble you.” “h-humble me?” you sputter nervously, every spark of humor dying on your breath. it doesn’t take an oracle to determine the conclusion you arrive at. satoru shakes his head, stepping closer out of instinct. of course, you aren’t aware of how grossly comfortable he’s become ingulding in your proximity. he rests a palm on your head, the weight of it making you groan. “your pretty head is full of useless worries. i’ll never harm you in any way.” it’s the first time satoru truly touches you. everything sings; everything shines. all of it shimmers. your brows bunch and your nose wrinkles, an adorable habit he stores away. “then…are you really just here to watch me?” “eh, no,” he shakes his head, grinning. “i’m intended to make you fall in love with something as hideous and unsightly as yuki’s bruised perception wishes you were, but i’ve decided i won’t indulge her antics of vanity this time.” he pats your head and withdraws, afraid to take too much too soon, afraid for his already consuming desire to become so willfully edacious. you give him a pointed look but your eyes never leave him. “but you’ll indulge yourself?” satoru grins and gives a simple response, one he stuffs to its brim with rhapsody and playfulness as it slips from his lips. “without hesitation. i didn’t find you first but i’ll be the one to keep you.” “who knew a love god would be so shameless.” his response is a recital, an avowal memorized in its every angle by his tongue, without falter, something embedded he exhumes just to dedicate to you. large hands cradle your face, his voice a poem unraveling, “love is blind but it sees all; love is pride, love is humility. it stands, stretched to the full height of its glory, and it kneels, sinking into the depths of its reverence.” satoru watches your moony expression form and his lips curve. “you don’t even know me.” you murmur, wispy and uncertain but still coated in captivation. quipped from a clever god, “then tell me what you want me to know. i’ll master you — mind, body, and spirit. whatever you wish.” you stare, concern filling your every breath, tainting every second you spend peering into him. blinking, you watch him before your eyes flicker down. “this…this isn’t real. it can’t be.” “so you circle back to doubt?” satoru snickers, pulling away from you as he observes you with a cocked head. “have i truly not convinced you of my existence? surely you don’t believe if i were an apparition that you, in all your naivety and mortality, would even have the means to perceive me.” your face drops, possibly insulted by truth. “are you calling me weak and stupid?”

“weak? yes. although, you really can’t help it. you mortals are born a frail people. stupid? i wouldn’t assign such an attribute to you, no.” you huff, indignant, and look off to the side. “whatever you’re implying, i resent it.” “you’re merely human. you have shortcomings you can’t help and sight in which you lack. not to ring the horn of hubris, but should you not show gratitude to a god that chooses you to gaze upon him?” you stare at him blankly before asking — no, sneering, “should i have to show gratitude for being followed home and watched?” a foolish grin. “i’ve never followed you home. rest assured, i keep a tight grip on my own vices. i try to behave from time to time.” “is that so?” you grumble, disbelieving. “it is so.” satoru sighs, his tone resolute and carved out of his disgust. “i’m a god of love, not of perversities. i’m no sukuna the zeus. i would rather you think me an apparition, a falsehood, than be thrown into a cast of similarities with him.” there’s traces of a laugh bubbling up, but you cough it away, much to satoru’s amusement. “is…zeus as awful as the myths say?” “it depends on what they say, but he’s likely worse.” satoru grouses in disdain. sukuna the zeus is not one with an ounce of good or mercy in his heart. born a monster of a god with a taste for man, sukuna has shown he only wishes to watch all the realms move to the tune of his malevolent volatility. you take a breath and plop down to rest in your chair at the small personal table. “i can’t believe this is my life. sitting in my office talking to a love god about the sincere realities of mythology and deities.” he hums, perching himself on the corner of the table. “does this not make you blessed?” “being followed around sounds closer to a curse.” he lies, because love is honest but love is deceiving. “i have important duties to tend to, i’ll have you know. i don’t waste all my spare time observing your precious whims.” it’s a blatant, seething lie, a vibrant and colorful one he’ll parade as the truth to preserve his pride. he does waste all his spare time observing your every whim. he’s honest in his commutes, not ever following you home outside the walls of this dimly-lit den. although, the desire to eats away at him. ares howls frequently in the night. there’s force in the pull your passing thoughts have on him, but he can never tell you how you leave indents in his spirit whenever you think of him, whenever you ruminate on your musings of his eyes, your irrepressible thirst to see them and name their pigment, when you’re lost in your wonderings of him, when you yearn for his peculiar presence. all of it makes him putty. all of it squeezes and stretches him. all of it changes his shape. “w-well, if you’re going to keep this up, i obviously can’t stop you. i ask that you maintain respectful boundaries, including not appearing so abruptly before me.” satoru merely smiles down at you —smitten— absolutely adoring you in every way. “i will…abide by whatever words you wish to use as chains to keep me here.” emboldened by your charm and indulging a bit too much in his own ardor’s blissful blood, satoru grabs your hands, cradles them in his own as he peers into your glittering eyes. it’s then that he notices the way you look back at him as if you can see right through every barrier he’s made, every one that was forced on him, every one he hid behind. right to the core of him. it feels like although he controls the war brewing in his irises by tucking his weapons behind a sheath, he doesn’t have to hide. not from you. he conceals his eyes but you look at him as if they gaze bare. satoru brings your soft fingers to his lips, supple flesh tingling against your hands with the soothing vibrations of the cosmos. “i will…” he breathes. “…adore you, if you allow me. protect you with my life. make your heart as immortal as mine in the way i only speak eternal devotion over you.”

enchanted, your lips part and he feels the way yearning passes through first in a soft pant. he feels you pulling on him, tugging on his heartstrings. making his eros tremble. ardor’s will to pledge fealty to the flutter of your lashes as you wake; ares’ promise to ravage all that oppose or threaten you. instead of accepting his declaration, you ask, “w-what’s so special about me? what do you do that’s so uninteresting that you would…adore me, of all things. of all people.” what does he do in the time he’s away? a sleepless god, he waits until you leave for rest to find other things to do. he goes where love calls him, where it pulls him closer and begs for his embrace. “i love, of course. i do my best to keep war from erupting as a result of it by helping others love in doses. i watch, mostly. sometimes i play.” you ask, with an airy tone of confusion, “play?” he nods. “as i’m a war god, i have to release my inevitable frustrations somewhere. gently, of course. i wouldn’t want to leave the world in ruin…again.” satoru chuckles, soft lips leaving feathery kisses all along your fingers. one. two. three blinks. a frantic whisper. “leave…the world in ruin? again?” suddenly, you pull your hands from his grasp and he lets them slip through. he isn’t surprised by your reaction. in retrospect, perhaps he should have eased you into that fact. you seem to be in disbelief over his identity already. “well, yes. there was a time when i was a young god that traipsed the heavens and below causing all the trouble i could with my eros. i’ve matured so don’t concern yourself with my past.” it’s then that the door swings open to your office. as fast as they push through, satoru’s infinite prison is up and so is he. the sudden streams of voices become muffled, dull and blurry. he watches you, a look of deep contempt taking his expression as you keep glancing right where he stands — when you could see him before these new mortals came to interrupt — before they bulldozed through to steal your eyes and attention away from him again. gritted teeth and a clenched fist, this is how he’s left. ares simmers at the slight of it all, the derogative undertones in satoru not having you to himself when he wants and having to accept such a condition without qualms. satoru adores you, thinks the words you speak make you shine brighter than geto’s sun. he thinks the way you smile would make yuki the aphrodite vengeful. but he hates being at the mercy of you and your fragille, mortal dealings. he wants you back right now. ardor soothes him, reminds him of his commandments while he waits and watches you tensely. like a mantra, he hears it over and over until his breathing steadies.

love is blind but it sees all; love is tender smiles and loosened flesh, love is temperance and tolerance. it is the willingness we make labors of.

it doesn’t take much time before satoru becomes visibly perturbed by the constant intrusions and obligations that stand in the way of the words he wants to hear flutter from your lips, velvet petals of sweet sentiment falling softly over him. instead, his efforts are often interrupted, often put on hold or silenced to tend to the incompetence of your underlings. it’s becoming tiresome; he makes no move to hide his grievance. he tells himself to breathe. he can feel something monstrous and thick filling his gut. a sludge of an emotion, weighing on all of him, stickiness slinking up the cavity of his torso, caching all of him. it takes every modicum of his will not to be petulant and do the same with you, pull you into the walls of his infinity, an extension of the lover’s prison, so only he has the privilege of gazing over the object of his affection and obsession. you — the one who inspires the poetry in his blood to boil. ares hums within him, makes his right eye feel heavy, delighted by the envious rush and what it makes satoru envision.

she’ll never have the time i deserve with her, that belongs to me. it would be an easy problem to solve. she’ll hate me of my own accord.

of course, ardor reminds him of love’s addictive embrace, to loosen his grip to maintain his strong footing. acts of war are easy, but acts of love feel better. he prefers it. he prefers you. to all others. he knows what it means to have you and the sacrifice that comes with keeping you. a pretty and sparkling treasure, laden with novelty for him to marvel at and little mechanisms that make him feel content. together. he takes a deep breath, and finds himself unclenching his hands as he sits, stretching his fingers to loosen the tension. satoru closes his eyes; he meditates on ardor’s fervent whispers which usually he subdues to know mental clarity and peace.

love is patient; love is kind. love holds the weight of its temptations.

in contrast, ares seethes.

love is imposing; love is momentum. love holds the weight of its triumphance. it never cowers in the face of restraint.

satoru sighs and drowns out their never-ending bickering.

satoru watches how time trudges on, and stretches itself thin between the two of you. he remains ardent and attached, endlessly and proudly devoted to you. the sticky feeling comes back one late afternoon when satoru dutifully follows you into the elevator, unseen and unheard. as he does each day to bid you a silent goodbye, squeezing out every second of your presence he can. all things follow their natural rhythm — until, the presence of another lingers for no reason. he smiles too endearingly at you, and touches your shoulder too casually. satoru can feel it rolling off this man, obviously an underling, but has no boundaries in how he approaches you. clearly above him in every facet, satoru’s distaste and resentment bubble to life, face scrunching up in disgust. the man reeks of it, his fondness for you. his longing. in his infinity, he dwells in swelling silence, his insides in tightly-wound knots. satoru’s chest rises and falls — his stiffened shoulders, too. ares bursts to life when he sneers, angry eyes zoned in on the wretched man.

the audacity to desire her so openly while being so weak and undeserving.

for a moment, satoru’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t do it. he told himself that he wouldn’t with you, never with you. and yet, satoru can’t help the way he reaches up and pinches the top half of his quiver, the barrier that holds in the rapture his gaze would cause to dawn on all that exists. he does his best to keep the effects small, hardly noticeable but effective. peeling down the cover of his quiver, calling on ares eye of megaera, his eros of disgust, satoru watches a blue stripe swipe across the air, penetrate through all it must, and catch you on the left side of your neck. you don’t wince, but when it hits you, your eyes blink rapidly, as if just given some injection that you feel shooting into your veins. as you stand before him, satoru watches with satisfaction as your eyes — once alight with delight and trading even the faintest drop of desire — go dark and dull. your facial expression falls, your smile fading and emptiness taking its place. a grin spreads across his face, pleased now. he isn’t sure what you say but he watches the man’s eyes widen slightly before his brows crinkle in confusion and you offer him a professional salutation, your body language straight and alert, then you walk right around the underling, continuing on with a slight roll of your shoulders, shaking off ares’ excess, he’s sure.

what is one more secret?

and yes, satoru will tuck it away with him, another truth he hides under the pink of his tongue with glee.

love is honest, love is true; love has no need to tremble behind the cowardice of manipulation.

and for a moment, satoru does feel guilty. but when you exit the building, he waits for a moment and appears right next to you, his infinity down. he doesn’t usually try to pass the boundaries but as you walk away, his feet continue to follow, as if their departure is beyond his will. “if you’re thinking of following me home, don’t.” you grumble sharply, picking up the speed in your steps. “the nerve,” satoru’s head tilts to the side in wonder.

are you aware?

“i’ll stay here, if you wish.” satoru says, stopping just at the edge of the property. “i’ll be here when you return tomorrow.” when you hear his voice, you pause and turn to face him. you seem shocked to see him, perhaps regarding his presence as the underling he handcrafted your fresh disgust toward. you blink, the edge on your voice dissipating as you reply. “i…i didn’t think i’d see you again today.” satoru takes a careful step forward. “i didn’t know you wished to. i only planned to watch you leave, but you seemed particularly…upset.” for a moment, you just stand there. satoru takes your contemplation and tilts his head back, basking in the warmth of the helios’ vibrant sun and grins to himself, feeling his insides ablaze with his admittedly orchestrated glory. he can feel you tugging on his heartstrings, of course he can. especially when it’s all for him. “don’t want me too much or i might start getting the wrong idea, pretty thing.” bashful, you shy away, tilting your face with the softest sigh. he doesn’t mean to make you nervous but he’s had enough of playing coy and never fully defining the lines of which your boundaries are drawn or willing to stretch. cautiously, his hands clutch your shoulders, nearly breathless from the warmth in his belly, nearly dizzy from feeling himself grant your desires and resolve your yearning. you want him to touch you; you want daring fingers to ghost along your skin. but his touches now are more innocent in fashion, fond at best. “tell me what you want, pretty.” he murmurs, his hidden eyes gazing over the features of your face, a thick thumb brushing over your plump lip. “i’ve chosen to adore you, so naturally i’ll give you anything of which you desire and derive pleasure.” you don’t notice when his infinity reaches out to hold you, to cradle your frame. you don’t notice that the sounds of the world around you muffle and go numb, sucked into his embrace that stretched on through eternity. soft and feathery, your response flutters, “you can walk home with me, but i…i won’t let you inside.” ardor’s spirit blazes within him — emboldened and vivacious, ready to relish in new proximity. a chuckle rumbles in his chest; a sly grin spreads across his lips. “any time spent in the presence of my beloved is time i deeply cherish.” you’re flustered — hot face and wet lips, side-swiped eyes and a wary glance. but still, you walk alongside him, snug in his infinity, step by step.

ACT III. THE DILIGENCE OF PRAGMA’S EMBRACE.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is expansive, love is all-consuming. it takes even the shape of nothingness, clings to its empty form, and stretches it further.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is faith, love is lingering. it would wait an eternity at an entrance it knows with unearned certainty will open.

SATORU.

time flows on, and satoru weaves himself around adoration with ease, your name a flowering breath on his lips whenever the time permits. you entertain his senseless notions. you wait for him, more voracious and fervid as days move along, as if it’s all you ever have to do. your melodic laughter travels down the beautiful marble-plated halls, the waves of its sound etched into the ridges of intricate designs that decorate the ceiling and line the floors. he tunes his infinity to your perception, stretching it around the whole of you, making it wider to mold around the specificities of your shape, around the breathiness of your voice. an endless indention in himself just for you. all so the symphonic outburst of your elation is only his to hear, his joy to cultivate and claim. all naturally, too. he thinks he adores that most about you. loving you is a natural reaction to mingling with your existence. the fondness and affection that seeps out of you when he lets himself freely feel your call remains untouched by his divine eyes. he keeps them securely imprisoned behind his quiver. he swears he’ll never let them touch you again since his last provocation. he doesn’t need to anymore. he has so much of your attention that he no longer reasons the necessities of envy, jealousy, or spite of all things. but still, indulgent as ever, he’ll always take as much of you as you’re willing to give. gluttony is as fair as war in love, to him. “are you nearly ready to go?” satoru grumbles, watching as you make furious clacking noises at your desk. “all this dreadful noise. what are you doing?” you snort. “i’m typing. i’m a museum director. i both receive and deliver emails.” “your typing is tedious and the sound is awful. does it not annoy you in the slightest?” shrugging, your eyes never leave your screen. “it’s just what i’m used to. you should be used to the sound by now, considering you never go away while i’m working.” “false,” he protests with a pout. “i make myself scarce for your little…conclaves.” your typing pauses and your eyes dart up to stare at him for a moment. “my meetings are fundamental to my position here which, again, is funda—” “fundamental to your livelihood…yes, yes, i know. we all know as you only force this mantra on us every chance that presents itself. you’re worse than ardor. are you not tired?” “of you? sometimes. of my job? yes.” a short response as your typing resumes, tormenting him with enforced patience. he shifts, sitting up in the tufted chair he always drags next to you and sinks down into to sulk about waiting for your attention. “do you prefer me over this place?” is all satoru hears in your sometimes and inquires about. “what do you like most about me?” you laugh. “like about you? nothing at all.”

there’s a quiver in your words; you lie. of course you do, love is pride, after all.

satoru takes your hand, ever brave, ever dauntless. he brings your curved knuckles to his lips. any other time you would shake off his affectionate pestering, but your desire sings as you feel his lips graze over the ridges and dips of your fingers. “well, my most beloved, i like everything about you.” your body shifts and your head snaps in his direction, eyes lingering on him, curious and probing. “is that so?” a terse nod. “it is so. i adore you. i love you. i’ll linger here for as long as you do.” today, he hears something new. it’s something small and playful, uttered under a meek tone and a thick blanket of apprehension, but he hears it ring true above it all — the love. “you did swear to protect me, after all.” satoru smiles, strengthened by all the ways in which you make his heart weak. “of course, i’ll commit to my devotions.” wispily. fluttering. adoringly you sigh, “as you should.” ardor and ares both coat his tone. “for you, i’ll do anything.”

these days satoru walks you home; these days satoru slips inside quietly after you, your hand laced obligingly in his — tugging and pulling, all pining and impatience. closer. you always want him closer. his hands are always greedy and grabby, taking what he wants in the name of pleasure, but they become gluttonous monsters when the door closes. your hips are taut to his as he presses you to the wall, your cheek cold against the dull-toned paint and drywall, his warm tongue licking stripes from your collarbone up to your ear. his pants huff into your ears, steamy and thick; your wet whimpers graze against the wall, all of it enticing him, making him grip you even harder — one hand with fingers digging into your hips, one gripping your jaw to prep your lips for an engrossing kiss. it’s not enough but he can’t wait on enough. satoru tugs you along to your bedroom, his muscles flexing and twitching with need. it’s taking everything not to spread you wide on the hallway floor. once your bed is in sight, you’re pushed onto your back, your hands gripping the fabrics of his finely stitched robes to pull him down with you. the thickness of satoru’s knee is a median between your legs to keep them pried apart while his large body hovers. one arm above your head, the other gripping your hand and knotting your fingers in his.

“do you know what you’ve done to me?” he breathes shakily, lips still pillowing over yours as he leans his forehead against your own. “do you know how hard it was to resist you today?” “no, i don’t. tell me.” playful words woven between passionate kisses. his lips latch to your neck, grunting as he loses his silent battle with his urge to bite and pinch your skin. “near impossible. you mortals are different. everything clings to you so perfectly. and all day. all day. all i could think of was getting my hands on you, caressing your curves, kissing every inch of you.” satoru wants to love you like this — obsessively, indulgent to the point of painful, unbridled with need forged from greed. he laps at your neck, impish whines elicited from you with every motion. “you controlled yourself well. good boy.” amusement and arousal blend together on your tongue; he wants to know the taste of it. “don’t patronize me like an animal.” satoru grits, untangling your hands to hike up the fabric of your skirt and part your thighs. “i’m a god, not your plaything, not your little pet.” wit unrelenting, he can hear the smirk on your lips. “well…you do follow me around like a lost puppy.” “if i went anywhere else, my love would surely have a fit.” he muses, nipping at your neck with playful force, making you yelp underneath him. lips trail down with ease and your fingers slide into thick, pearly tufts. “this is true. maybe i should get you a leash.” “hush,” he growls, biting you in spite. you tug his hair, pulling the god by his nape, granting you a lewd sound, a mewl so slick and pathetic it wets the air. his mouth collides with yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues lapping over the other, a whimpering mess as he tears away at the intricately woven robes that always drown him. it reveals all of him to you: every curve of his build, the long and toned limbs, broad-shouldered and big, every inch of thickness in his muscles, the glaze of lust that glistens in the way all of him flexes with every staggered breath. you get all of him. leaking length and all. the fabric of your skirt bundled up the top of your thighs, your legs parted before him — his hands can’t help but wander in curiosity and delight. ardor compels him to hold you close, to keep your skin flush against his, a warmth he can sigh into. ares compels him to grab and grip and claw the pleasure right out of your body to claim for himself, doomed to the brutality and ferocity of need.

“i don’t mean to be impatient, but i don’t want to wait anymore. i can’t.” he rasps and whines. “i can’t wait. i need to feel you around me.”

that’s as much forewarning as he can give before he yanks down your panties and pushes his way between slick folds, a relieved moan as he buries himself inside and grips your thigh for steadiness, releasing it once he establishes a slow but thorough rhythm. each time his thrusts carry him back into you, your moans fill the air and your hands travel needily down his back. “my love,” he breathes shakily. satoru nuzzles his face into your neck, panting heavily as he moves his hips slowly, enjoying the tepid feeling of your walls and the pleasure of tight embrace. he bites down, needy teeth seeking grounding, and grunts from the feeling of unyielding bliss blossoming in his gut. a soft mewl, tender and hesitant. “s-satoru,” “perfect.” he sighs, his hips melting into yours. “let me hear you.” and you do. only a language of urgency spoken between your bodies, the bed a culture of devotion and cacoethes. your hands, ever-enthused maunderers, travel through ivory tussocks and tug, oh so innocently, on the knot of fabric tied around the middle of his head.he stiffens. his movements still but he breathes heavily. “don’t.” he moves his palm from grasping and clutching the meat of your thigh, now reaching to wrangle in the explorations of one of your trespassing hands. he locks his fingers around yours, hips rocking while he brings them to his lips, kitten licks accompanied by a chorus of both your whines. “what? you never remove it. i want to see your eyes. you’re my lover.” your voice is enchanted by love and inspired. in love with him. truly and genuinely in love. he can feel it fluxing and flowing throughout him, starting from his sternum, lotus-like and flowering, each time he pushes in, feeling your yearning explode inside him while you pulse around him. the taste of adoration is sweet when he kisses you, too. “i know.” a tender mumble. “but my eyes are unlike yours. i can stay by your side for all of time. i can make it so eternity never separates us, but you can never look into my eyes, okay?” your fingers squeeze his tight, but your voice is soft and shaky, trembling as you take his slow grinding. “is this…a god’s problem?” satoru’s kisses are erratic and consuming—mixtures of plump pecks, a lapping tongue, and gentle tugs on your lips. the only constant is the ferocity of his panting: in your mouth, on your skin, in the dips and crevices of flesh he finds. he nods as he keens and whispers, a twinge in his heart, “this god’s curse.” “okay.” your free hand still clutching his hair, you grip and tug until he lifts his head to face you, all to leave a gentle kiss on his lips. “i love you. as long as i can have you by my side, i don’t have to see anything you don’t want me to see. i’ll be curious, but i won’t peek.” there’s a swelling in his chest that makes him think he may just burst, a rupture of exaltation and honor. full and clinging to new feelings of closeness. satoru chuckles and pecks your lips again and again, more pressure applied with each kiss to ensure his devotions are sealed by another. “are you becoming sweet for me?” “i’d rather die.” the sneer in your voice becomes a sigh sung to the tune of ecstasy. a giddy smile. another nip at your bruising flesh, a rush of love in the quickening pace of his hips. “you know…i’ll never let that happen.”

he feels it first in the dead of night, sukuna the zeus and his incessantly demanding calls, but he doesn’t leave right away. he can’t. you’re wrapped around him, limbs entangled with his as usual. you’re resting peacefully. your heart is calm. he can’t ruin that. he won’t. your arms are locked around his frame, clutching him with all the strength you can. your breathing is steady and relaxed, head tucked under his chin. you’ve been sleeping more, sleeping better, since he started staying. you’re more refreshed upon waking. your smile, already knee-weakening and dazzling in its composite to satoru, is even more brilliant, more authentic. and truthfully, he isn’t ready to leave your grasp. your hands are the only things that know how to hold him well. they’re calling and calling, reaching and reaching — all the gods. he can feel the irritation of their desire to see him unfurling throughout his body, tainting the time he wants to spend being foolishly in love with you, and he subdues it. he’s not hiding out so much as he’s settling in and making a home. infinity is only fair if it includes you, too; reality is only full if it includes him. satoru spends a lot of time finding a fair balance between both. sometimes he gets to hold you in the comfort of your room, his infinity a blanket over you both, spending the night staring into an ether and relishing in the pinnacle of safety he feels while you sleep. ardor fills him with hymns of new avowals, each like a little burst of accomplished joy, in marvel at its new, unique discoveries.

love is security. love is sanctuary. love is an idle season. love is stillness. love is ease. love is rest. love is staying even longer. love is waiting for tomorrow. love is hold me. love is let me.

when your eyes flutter awake, the sorrow cascades and drenches him. it’s harder for him to leave when you’re so committed to doing the things he adores, such as gracing the dawn of day with your waking breath and sleepy eyes, your languid movements, the way you tangle yourself more intricately with him. “pretty thing,” he dotes fondly. satoru leaves a soft kiss on your forehead first. he drinks up your sigh, gentle and drowsy, then presses his next kiss to the tip of your nose. your morning eyes peer; he kisses both cheeks in tender succession. you hum happily. “g’morning.” “mine,” hushed and sweet as he finally kisses your lips, lingering. “a g’morning indeed.” you pout and narrow your eyes. “are you making fun of me? i’ll kick you out.” “i would never.” he mumbles in amusement. “i have to leave regardless. so take my love while you have the chance. don’t waste time being bratty about it.” he says it casually, the privilege of an immortal god’s tongue at the prospect of time passing. but you freeze and stare with suddenly widened eyes. “lea…ving?” you murmur, head tilted as if confused by the word, as if averse to the feeling of it on your tongue. you sit up abruptly, looking at him in shock. “are you leaving me?” satoru could have cried from the fear in your voice. the slight quiver, the heightened pitch, and all the anguish swimming around your eyes in anticipation. they glisten and all of him crumbles to dust. “not forever,” he assures you and rises to embrace you. “i’ll be back, but i do have to go and it might be for a while.” “what? satoru, what are you talking about? you never said anything about leaving.” your voice is pained and ringing with betrayal. “so you’re just leaving?” he sighs deeply, keeping you up against his chest. “i’ve been bothered for weeks now by other gods and now the zeus is involved. i can’t exactly ignore him despite wanting to.” “you said you would stay by my side.” when satoru hears you sniffle, he tries to make sense of the shame he feels unravelling in his gut. he tries to understand how this might feel for you, insecurely attached to his presence but loving him this much despite it only to be told at random you’re being left for an unforeseeable amount of time. he finds himself pleading because right now it feels like love is humility and love is kneeling. “please,” he murmurs. “i’ll be back. no matter what, i’ll be back. don’t be angry with me. i love you so much. please.” somehow, it only makes the soft crying become longer and louder. “i’m not crying because i’m angry at you! i’m crying because i wasn’t expecting it and i’ll miss you.” it takes him one hour to tell you he’ll miss you, too, without words and emotion betraying him. it takes two for him to be willing to peel himself away from you long enough to say goodbye. he wonders if he’ll recover from the feeling of you yearning for his return before he even fully departs.

ACT IV. BITE MARKS IN THE SHAPE OF MAGAERA’S DISGUST.

love is blind but it sees all; love is clarity, love is contradiction. it blurs the lines of lunacy and devoutness with intent — lucid and deliberate — all to live there.

YOU.

from the dawn of the week, everything is unusual. first, satoru is called away to the olympus out of the blue and can’t fully disclose why. now gone for the third day with no contact, your anxiety is heightened and lengthened, wondering if it was all an elaborate dream bred of illness. then, your work days are full of random hiccups and hang-ups. all the odds are seemingly against you. the only thing championing this experience is your ability to long for him. now, as you arrive home, you’re met with the most peculiar sight. a tall, paler woman, sparkling with beauty in the glimmer of the sun, with long and flowing locks of gold that reach the ground; the tresses gleam, too. she stands as still as a statue and as beautiful as any artwork, her every feature chiselled to perfection. as you walk up to your door, her eyes catch you and a slow smile stretches across supple lips.

captivating but daunting.

you notice her clothing, light and twisted white fabrics, the familiar and cosmic-looking twinkles woven into the seams. you’re instantly reminded of those intricate twists you watch satoru perform dutifully. you wonder, for a moment, if this is someone satoru knows — a goddess, perhaps. “uh…hello,” you chirp sweetly, smiling just as prettily. you watch the woman’s face go blank in an instant. all expression vanishes, her star-like eyes flittering with something you can’t quite name. awkwardly, your gaze darts before looking at her once more. “are you looking for someone?” for a moment, she merely observes you with a blank expression. but then, a soft tenderness tugs at her features, tugs at your heart to bear witness, and she smiles. “you must be the mortal thing that’s kept him hidden all this time.” her voice is a song, sweet and melodic. so soothing you miss the way she sharply eyes you up and down, sneering. “this is all?” she sounds confused in her asking, quiet for a moment, and then holding her curved waist tightly while her laughter becomes a symphony in the air around you. your heart dives into your gut, enamored by her presence and natural grace. “here i was thinking his extended absence was a witness of my disgrace but they were all useless worries. of course! i knew they would be. they must! yuki the aphrodite, the divine vessel of beauty and desire, could never truly be bested by the blemishes of mortality’s weakness to time.” you don’t know it right then, but the day you meet this goddess, yuki the aphrodite, the divine vessel of beauty and desire, your life is doomed to descend into a flurry of utter chaos. “i—sorry, who are you?” you ask, trying to shake away the foginess of your mental state. “are you…is it satoru you’re looking for?” she sighs, mumbling to herself. “i suppose i shouldn’t waste the efforts of my venture.” “what was that?” you ask, struggling to make sense of her words. your thoughts are muddled by her pristine presence. “no,” she finally replies, roseate eyes twinkling and capturing all your wonder. “i’m here for you, mortal girl. i have something of great importance to discuss. take me in and prepare your offerings for me.”

you don’t believe her; you trust him — you don’t want to believe her; you want to trust him. doubt creeps in slowly in the dead quiet of the night, a languid steep when you’re sleeping and you can’t go with him, when you realize you can never go with him.

'mortals don’t set foot in the divine realm the same way the living don’t set foot in the underworld.'

he’s vague in the details of his disclosure. before, satoru used to be so honest, he became tactless and blunt. now, he’s perceivably more calculated. you notice. it riddles you. why the abrupt movements and obvious secrecy if he isn’t lying to you about it all, about why he showed up in front of you, why he courted you, who he was supposedly answering to? in your frantic mind, you continue to hear yuki the aphrodite’s song of a voice.

'it’s the weight of his consequences; he’s cursed to unending solitude.' 'gods don’t love mortals; we use them for fodder.'

satoru says he loves all but he’s never been in love, that he’s always been alone until you, that he’d been certain his immortal life would be doomed to that notion perpetually, but claiming you and making you the center of his devotions made a new god of him.

'he lies. he kills. he unleashed war on all the world in a blink for sport shortly after being born. he’s no man. he’s a monster that’s supposed to be imprisoned to loneliness. of course, he would not tell the mortal he manipulates he’ll squash them in his palm to sate the old gods and lift his curse.'

you remember what he said near the beginning of this unorthodox love: well, as i’m a war god, i have to release my inevitable frustrations somewhere. gently, of course. i wouldn’t want to leave the world in ruin…again.

your lips purse together. you want so badly to trust him, to be in his corner without hesitation, but aphrodite pointed out inconsistencies you now question and they can’t all be a result of coincidence.

'his eyes hold the truth, all of it; it is why he wills your ignorance.' 'satoru can’t be trusted, but he’ll know i plan to turn him in to the zeus if i attempt to get closer.'

he made you swear that you would never remove his quiver, never look into his eyes but the why of his boundary confuses and frightens you. if he only plans to use your love for him to sacrifice you to the old gods in exchange for true freedom from his infinity, you can’t stay here in a doomed paradise with him, biding your time in feigned bliss and counting down your days. if satoru is deceiving you, using you to hide from the zeus and plot the initiations of war, then continuing to love him is a willful act of brutality against man. but if the aphrodite is lying to you, deceiving you, then whatever makes satoru fear your gazes meeting will come true. such odds are poor but you’ve made your choice. the sacrifice for solving must be the comfort of ignorance.

'use this, if you wish to see the truth of him in his eyes. force sleep on him. remove his quiver. wait until he wakes. you will know then, the moment you look into his eyes, all that he’s done and will do.'

so when satoru comes home from whatever god-bearing duties of the zeus he claims, you decide to brew him tea. it takes you a long time to let him go when he first arrives home, a long time to relinquish your hold on unblemished intimacy, but he doesn’t mind and even welcomes it. you do your best to disregard the ardent tone in his greetings, in his soft laments of yearning and claims of the weight of your absence being heavy in his chest. you do your best to ignore the way he tugs your hand, how he wraps his arms around your waist, how he clings close to you. it almost makes you hesitant to lead him to your dining table. almost. he sighs upon sitting, stress heavy in his voice. guilt screams within you. you shouldn’t steep his tea with the scentless liquid, but curiosity drags delicate fingers over the open vial and tips it over the rim of a glass, listening to the soft pour of your coming betrayal. with a loving kiss to the head, you offer him the wretched tea, and he drinks it without thought — gripping his cup with trusting fingers — sealing your fate and his. “it’s good.” he hums. comfortable. safe. unsuspecting. “thank you, my love.” unable to stay and watch the next few minutes unfurl, you spare a soft smile and soundless nod before retreating into your shared bedroom, waiting on bated breath until you hear the abrupt thump of a body slumping onto the table, the shattering sound of a glass breaking as it falls to its death, the patter of laced brew pouring what’s left ot itself from the surface of the table onto tiled floor. it’s ironic that your next step is merely to wait but your impatience is what makes you cling to such drastic methods. pupils blown from aphrodite’s influence, heart shaking in fear as it anticipates the coming consequences of your doubt in him, you return to the table. he’s out cold, a sight you’ve never seen. although aphrodite assures you he’ll feel nothing during his sleeping state, you still unknot the tie of his quiver with careful fingers. the texture is soft on the surface but stiff in structure. you clutch the enchanted fabric in trembling fingers. you notice the bundle of snowy lashes that line the seam of his eyes.

like angel wings.

you always imagined they’d be beautiful. now you sit in front of him, diligent and dutiful, muttering useless apologies to the air he can’t hear, cursing yourself for your weak will. but you wait, eyes wide and alert, prepared to peer. you swallow down the thrill of your curiosity’s coming satiation, the joy of knowing you’ll know the sight of your lover in full. you remind yourself that you’re undeserving of deriving pleasure from this. this is truth you choose to take with no remorse for the destruction of his established limits.

it’s only because i love him; it’s only because i don’t want to die.

SATORU.

satoru wakes in a groggy stupor. when his eyes slowly open, confusion befalls him. has he slept? the first thing he notices is how bright the light pouring in through the window is, how it makes his eyes ache. the next thing he sees is you…staring at him with wide eyes, freshly-blown pupils and parted lips. a thickened black fabric is held tightly in clenched fists. it takes him too long to realize it’s his quiver. the fear that stirs in his chest is immediate as he realizes your awe is from the sight of his eyes. he clasps them shut tight, but deep down he knows it’s for nought. dreamily, you sigh his name. “s-satoru,” “NO!” his hands reach out in front of him wildly, until he feels you, until he snatches his quiver from you with frantic, terrified breaths. “what have you done?!” he doesn’t mean to shout out at you, doesn’t mean for his initial reaction to be rage and fear alone. he stands to his feet, panting wildly as his fingers fumble to retie the knot. fear eats him alive where he stands. agony in full force can take the strength from a god’s knees. he stumbles clumsily until his back hits the wall with force. his head hangs while cold thoughts blow into his mind with brute force, a blizzard of sorrow and sorry and spurn and spite. you speak but you tremble. it seems your mistake dawns on you, lays thick on your brittle voice. nearly a whisper, but still holding all your achings for penance, your yearning for atonement. “satoru…i’m…i’m sorry.” he’s sure your regret must be sour the way your face scrunches; vinegary. bitter. hard to taste but impossible to avoid.

treason tastes the same. satoru’s bleeding heart spirals. he laments in anguish, “why? you betray me? me? what have i done to make you want to be rid of me?” you carve a hole out of his chest. you don’t know it but you’ll leave with it, likely die with it clutched in mad hands. so this is what it means to be truly abandoned, to be loved and willingly left. none of it makes sense to him, how you've changed your mind and turned your back on your own vows to him. you said as long as he would stay by your side, you wouldn't peek. a dark thing lurches in his gut; heartache grips him and makes him feel sick. but love still wails and sings and bellows with jubilance at the sight of you. it overwhelms him. it plucks the bones out of his ribs, one by one. "you said you loved me. you swore you wouldn't look." perplexed and disbelieving. "why...would you? do you not —"

do you not want to love me anymore? is that why you want me to leave?

unable to move, unwilling to even speak it, the dark thing rolls over in his body. he bites his lip to stop the way it shakes, but he feels warm liquid start to gather. “rid of you? no, satoru. never.” a desperate cry. “then why?!” “i just…i just wanted to know the truth about you. aphrodite said…” his breath hitches when yuki’s honorific comes softly spilling from your lips. immediately, his lips flatten into a thin line. ares swells, a vengeful beast drawing life from the strength of its loathing. “the aphrodite was here?” his blank tone followed by your careful nod. “and she spoke to you?”

satoru watches as your body goes shy; you hold your own fingers and look at your feet in shame. when you start to speak, your voice is timid. “yes…she…told me about your past. that you plan to…to sacrifice me to the old gods. she said…if i looked into your eyes…i would see it all…and know the truth.”

an abysmal sigh. robbed of the mundanity he’s grown accustomed to and normalcy he adores, all because of the aphrodite. aphrodite and likely the zeus, too. satoru realizes he's been bested, that this is his punishment for experiencing joy without their consent. after he's so capable of taking everything away, what does he deserve aside nothing? they use his own eros against him. the lover he so desperately desires will grow to look upon him with disgust and seething hatred. just as he did to the apollo, just as he'd done to realms above and below. alone. because he himself is love but he doesn't deserve it. crestfallen, he croaks, “did you find what you were looking for?” “no…” you whisper it regretfully as you fall prey to weakness and sink into your chair, shrouded in defeat. “there was nothing. it was for nothing. i’m such an idiot. i was…i should have trusted you. i’m sorry.”

you don’t know yuki. you couldn’t have. i’m a fool, too. loving so freely. tying my hands in devotion. making you a target to them.

his heavy feet drag across the floor until he stands in front of you, a mountain made of his woes with isolation at its peak. and satoru, poor satoru, drowning in dolor and resentment and love, falls to his knees and wails. “satoru, please. i’m sorry, love. i didn’t…i shouldn’t have been…” tears sputter out of your eyes uselessly. “i was fooled…” the truth comes out, sniveling and whimpering. “we won’t last much longer.” he cries quietly, teeming and oozing morose notions. sunk to his knees, he lays his head on your lap, eyes safely guarded again. satoru surrenders to this new, crippling grief he finds. his limbs wobble from the weakness. even his arms shake with the weight of his sobs. “what do you mean, my love? i’m right here. i’m fine. nothing happened when i saw your eyes.” he notes the wispiness in your voice, the almost dreamlike murmur when you mention the sight of his eyes. your dagger of betrayal shoves in deeper. “they were beautiful. so…blue. like the sky. like the sea. like love as it wades.”

like love as it weeps?

your words, dazed and dulcet, are so far away as you speak them. your rakes through his hair, once soothing, now cease as you fall into silence. a moment passes. your loving sigh fills the air. “like angel wings,” you murmur. satoru’s eyes squeeze shut, fat tears spilling from the sides. within him, both his eros grieve. they sing with remorse, apologetic for what they’ve done, for your misfortunate fate they didn’t mean to seal.

ACT V. ALECTO THE UNENDING, ETERNITY'S TORTURE.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is forgiveness, love is resentment. it lingers in fragility and cradles its weaknesses, drenching them in immunity.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is languid, love is impetuous. it exists as an avalanche — slow and foreboding, and as a volcano — abrupt and erupting.

SATORU. day one.

the morning after betrayal finally comes. he spends the whole night in obsessive cycles of thought about how this will end, how he can stop it once it begins, how he can forgive you for the heartache you’ll leave him to cradle, how to love you as he’s always done, how to find gratitude somewhere in the trauma, how to spend the last of his time with you in bliss. you sleep the night away, calm, curled up to his body, because he’s angry but at least he’s home. time drags him through its thick currents of night and he ruminates on his losses while he wades. when you wake, the first thing satoru does is smush your cheeks between his palms and carefully examine your eyes for any sign of distress, any evidence of deterioration. “what are you doing?” you ask softly, careful not to show him your frustration. “i have to go to work.”

nothing. not a trace. maybe there wasn’t enough time. maybe it trickles. maybe the sight of their eyes won’t touch you, after all.

satoru huffs defiantly, letting go of your face. “i’m coming with you.” “don’t you always?” a soft giggle. your warm smile. ardor surges throughout him, an ichor-warming excavation to remind him he knows you. he loves you. he doesn’t have to fear you. quietly, satoru clings to the delusions of his hope that maybe…maybe. but…he doesn’t dare speak them aloud. the gods are always listening somehow.

day two.

no changes in your eyes. no slight detuning of your laughter. no crooked, misplaced smiles. nothing. you kiss him with the same tender lips; you hold his hand just as tightly. nothing changes as you both fall back into the comforts of your habitual movements. satoru keeps his sorrow in a crevice within himself and you…now free of aphrodite’s wicked touch, he supposes…have seemingly forgotten any of it ever occurred. or perhaps, the feigning is how you hold your grief, too. the one thing that does change is the extension of his infinity. he keeps it stretched to hold you at all times, especially as you walk around so freely. you talk to him as you always have on your way to your work and home. he notices you always meander around most in the daylight. you love spending time in the sun. he listens to the bright bumble of your words; his head tilts up towards the sky, stone-faced. geto’s sun has always had its eyes on you, hasn’t it?

geto the helios, even you betray me? my oldest friend.

nothing changes in you, but his heart knows more grief than it can take. ardor closes its eyes in rest, unable to endure the daily exertion of mourning. but ares is fueled by its need for retribution.

day three.

when you leave for work that morning, nothing changes. he just can’t be by your side. you sometimes have tiresome, elongated meetings that carry on, weaving in and out of an entire day. as much as satoru loves to linger, the waiting while watching them relish in your attention instead of him maddens him. it’s best if he stays home where your scent douses everything and he knows for certain you’ll return to him with all of your adoration just for him. each day begins the same: you wake up, he cradles your cheeks, he observes your eyes for even the slightest hint of dilation, he kisses your forehead, he murmurs his devotions over you — much closer to wrapping someone in prayer, and finally allows you to fully rise. you leave as you always do but satoru is admittedly uncertain of what to do with himself when matching your steps isn’t the entirety of his day. so he lies in your bed, wrapped inside a chrysalis of saffron and silk, and shrouds himself in the blissful feeling of you yearning for him the moment you leave him. it mollifies ardor for a time. but. approximately one hour passes before you come stumbling back in through the front door, kicking your shoes off at the entrance while you call for him. although confused, he still appears and greets you with an adoring smile. “returning already, pretty thing?” you nod, opening your arms to him. “mhm, i got there and…the idea of going the entire morning and afternoon without you made me want to die...so i came back home.” “how dramatic. you just couldn’t stand it, huh?” he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms, lips against your temple. “pretty thing needs her satoru. i don’t blame you. i wouldn’t want to leave me either.” of course, he jests and expects your snippy response in reply but instead, he feels your yearning for him explode in his chest. he feels the way you push closer, clutch tighter; he hears the edge of a whine in your voice as you speak. simpering, you cling to the fabric of his robes. “yes, all of that. i can’t stand the thought of being without you.” he doesn’t let you go but he stills and whispers, “my love, look at me.” the request comes soft and you do look as you’re told, abstracted eyes and a foolish smile. satoru’s palms cup your cheeks for the second time that day. he stares intently, observing the shape, noting a new wobble in the roundness, something slightly misshapen and enlarging. satoru whimpers at the sight. worry fills him as he stares and stares, praying for his discovery to come out false, just a mirage made of his anxiety. he can’t let you go when he still wants you for longer. for the second time, satoru hears you ask him, “are you leaving me?” and he still says no, but he omits the dreadful thing to protect you from fear.

you’re leaving me.

day six.

satoru feels sickened by himself for enjoying your clinginess. his heart can’t help it, to chase even falsified bliss. to be filled with the aching of knowing you’re gone but still warm-blooded and yearning in his arms — how unfair. how cruel. he has no choice but to hold you in the arms of questions that feel more like pleas.

why can’t i have you? why can’t i keep you? you’re mine but why can’t you be mine? why can’t you stay? just a little longer.

the lunacy spreads in the dead of night; you wake up stranger than the days passed. he knows it won’t last but he relishes in it despite it. you haven’t left in days. a bed is a home you don’t abandon. you leave behind your responsibilities and he leaves the remnants of his hope. you take a seat on his lap and the only thing you move is your hips. driven to an obsessive need for pleasure. hot with it, a sheen of sweat as you dig your nails in deeper. shaking in the night and longing for him; his body, his length, his murmurs in your ear, his warm tears falling on your back. he closes his eyes, lets the pleasure he feels shamelessly consume him. you’re on your way to a steep decline. he’ll steal these intimate moments for himself. as many as he can. little somethings to remember you by. something to remind him, for a time, your mouth tasted like everything love should be. just in case when the time comes and the sight of your lips curving into disgust starts to make him forget. just in case he can’t remember what it’s like to be loved by you.

ACT VI. A SMALL CACOPHONY OF WRATH, TISIPHONE’S ORCHESTRA.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is acceptance, love is denial. it is all screeches of dissonance and a looming madness contained in a warm embrace.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is gluttonous, love is self-serving. it doesn’t savor, only swallows; it never nibbles, it always devours.

SATORU. day thirteen.

satoru won’t say it aloud, but he’s scared. of so many things. mourning and loving and being alone. his broken heart and the wrath it’ll undoubtedly unleash. ares says everything’s days are numbered if yours are. every hope he has that he may not lose you, in the end, is squandered by the rapid shift in your behavior over the last weeks. he sees it clearly, the pupils in your eyes growing larger by the day. filling your eyes, filling your mind with delusions, filling your speech with nonsensical strings. it was a soft cling at first, tender fingertips holding lightly to the flesh, but it’s slowly becoming your nails digging into an open wound you made. you won’t let him leave your side anymore. your eyes are wild, blazing with disdain as you grip his arm. “where are you going? are you leaving me?” “my love, please,” satoru murmurs, trying to subdue your suspicions of his attempt to leave. “i’m not leaving you. i’m not.” always frantic. always afraid. satoru knows you can’t help it, knows you don’t mean to, knows he can’t stop your spirals once you’re triggered. hands up in surrender, he sits right back down in your bed and looks at you with wounded eyes you can't see, another wrench in his gut you’ll never know of. you settle into his lap, less loving and more possessive. “i wasn’t leaving. i’d never leave you.” satoru coos, his weakening attempts to make you docile, still true to his tongue. “i love you. you’re my pretty thing. i’ll never go anywhere.” your head shakes, tears pouring and lips sputtering words in a frenzy. “you can’t just get up and try to go somewhere without telling me! i don’t know what’s happening! i don’t know what’s happening and you can’t leave me! you can’t leave my side or i’ll die! if you walk away, you’ll leave me here to die and why would you leave me? you said you love me. don’t you love me, satoru?” “of course i do. i love you so much.” satoru listens to your whirlwind of teary rambles, watches your sanity dissolve. he holds you in love while you sob in confusion and the overstimulation of sensation makes you shiver. he glances over the scars littering different parts of your body, mauling yourself to be free of all the feeling that fills you at all times. all the feelings that say you’ll die if you’re not by his side. you’ll die if he doesn’t love you back. you’ll die if he leaves you. they all burst to life and leave you a wailing mess in his arms. imprisoned by every sliver of love and unable to escape its chaotic swarms. a war in your lungs. a war in your belly. a war on your flesh. all you do is scream. he doesn’t know how much longer until they tell you that you’ll die if you can’t get away from him. you’ll die if you don’t kill him first.

day twenty-one.

a blood-curdling scream. the incessant rattle of metal chains. “EVIL ASSHOLE! I KNEW YOU’D TRY TO KILL ME! I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT I HATE YOU!” since day sixteen, the god has lost all semblance of peace. “SATORU!” shrieking and sobbing his name descending to loving pleas. “please, satoru. i love you. i won’t hurt you. satoru! SATORU! STOP IGNORING ME! SATORU, ANSWER ME. ANSWER ME. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME, SATORU! PLEASE!” ares and the strength of its rage is the only thing keeping satoru’s body standing. as time passes, ardor accepts the coming days will be your last. whenever satoru has the strength to make a decision that leaves him fractured in every way. his heart breaks. all of him weeps until what’s left of love is defeat. you’re no longer yourself. a stranger takes space in your body and all it does is scream. in satoru’s mind, you’ve already died. you’ve already left him. what he’s holding is the sight of a person he wants to see, wants to be able to remember and remind himself of in the luxury of passing glances. he thinks he didn’t love those things enough. you’re a screeching mess he keeps his infinity perpetually stretched around, whose arms he keeps chained to a wall to stop you from hurting yourself, to stop you from hurting him. he hasn’t seen you smile for some time. all you do is wail and cry and make yourself bleed. a monster made of your own temptation. he still loves you, still adores you in every way. even like this. for all of time, he will.

love is blind but it sees all; love is eternal, love is unconditional. it is the only thing that owes nothing to space or time.

but he knows this is only torture for you. satoru has three options:

one. let you kill yourself in a fit of murderous delirium — both in an effort to escape him and an inability to kill him. two. let you die trying uselessly to kill him. three. kill you himself — quickly. devoutly. with honor and in love. pour enough of how much he adores you over your bones to fill an eternity, someone worthy of ceremony. you’re still someone who laughs and fills a room with delight.

tears stream freely underneath his quiver when he enters the room he’s now holding you prisoner in, a sad fact that makes him hate not only himself but all of them even more. when he enters, you go wild, writhing and pulling at the restraints he keeps you attached to. “LOOK AT ME, YOU ASSHOLE. LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DIE! I HOPE YOU DIE! YOU DISGUST ME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER TRUSTED YOU!” unable to take it anymore, unable to hear you in pain like this, hysteric and senseless, unable to endure the loss of his only home and the betrayal from all sides, he unties the knot of his quiver. he lets it fall to the ground the same way he falls to his knees, and stares at you. because love is standing but love is kneeling, too. he hears you go silent as you stare at him in his full glory, watches your body go calm as you see crystals stream down his cheeks, surely shimmering as they fall. your screaming finally ceases, replaced by awe swimming around your crying eyes. your soft smile; it must be your parting gift to him. “like angel wings,” adoration on your dying breath. “satoru,” all that’s left is your sigh faded into demise, satoru’s amethyst tears, and both ardor and ares filling his vision with a loving lilac. so lovely, so alluring and sweet, so undoubtedly yours, you don’t even feel the crack of your neck in his hands. painless. you fade with pleasure in your sights, with a moment of remembrance. you fade not knowing you’ve dissipated into nothing, not knowing you’re cradled lovingly in his arms, not knowing how he cries for you, not knowing how he hurts, not knowing the depths of his adoration for you. only satoru has to live with the sacrifices of knowing.

but he loves you, so he will live with the sacrifices while the realms live with the consequences of crossing him. any cost of loving you, he’ll gladly pay. over and over, until death manages to capture him and take him to meet the hades himself. when he finally has the strength to leave your side, ardor goes cold within him, paralyzed by grief. one eye blinks in darkness. nothing shown. nothing felt. nothing seen. but ares is alive with the light of a promise. ardor rests and ares makes satoru keep its word. thus, he finds a way to adore devastation. only when it’s dedicated to you.

he burns the quiver to dust, his first declaration of war on all, both above and below.

everything’s days are numbered if yours are.

𝜗𝜚 tags: @yunymphs. @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat. @avatarofstars. @softgirlgonehaywire. @sweeteaas. @kentopedia. @angelzrulez21-blog. @slowstorms. @dollsuguru. @seeingivy. @uroldall.

930 notes · View notes

sukunastoy · 2 years

Note

Hey love.

I hope you're doing well and keeping safe.

I'd like to request a true form sukuna smut, preferably set a 1000 years ago, ya know like historical shit. The plot and everything else can be up to you, just make it juicy. I've been thinking about true form sukuna for so long now and I just need some relief.

Thank you

'Part 2' -> Here!

Pairings: Fem!Reader x Historical AU Sukuna, true form. (Monster fucking babyyyy.) Wordcount: 6k+ CW/TW: Virginity taken, multiple orgasms, double penetration, creampie (in both vaginal and anal), fingering (both vaginal and anal) noncon-con, rape then consent, degradation, quick murder, violence monster fucking. Disclaimer: I own nothing of JJK

I hope you enjoy~!💕

The Privilege.

What were you going to do? Where could you go even if you did manage to get out of these binds? Despite your begging and cries, you were forcefully pulled along the stone walkway leading up to the gates that everyone feared to be on the other side of. Many went in, little to none ever came out.

Satiating the King was anything but possible...

"Sorry, girl. It's just the way life goes. As soon as a woman comes of age, she can be picked and will have the privilege to serve the King with her body. You should be grateful you aren't part of the cattle to be devoured."

The privilege...?

The guards' explanation brought you no comfort, you knew the rules, everyone knew the rules. Virgin women would be picked, and some could remain in his harem if he enjoyed them enough... Not that they ever lasted long... A curse as strong as Sukuna violently assaulting a human woman wasn't something that would be able to continue for long. For years you dreaded reaching this age... However, since your village was the farthest away, you had hoped the King wouldn't reach out so far for new concubines. Usually the villages closer to his Estate were overflowing with new and beautiful maidens all the time, as they homed many more families. Wouldn't he prefer the more dainty, young women for his harem?

Your village was home to farmers, laborers, hardworking people. Those closer to his Estate lived life more laxed and luxurious.

Sukuna was a snob, everyone knew it. He prided himself with all forms of things he found beauty in. And it wasn't always beauty to everyone else.

His grotesque display of heads and skulls along the fence line, some fresh enough that the blood still hadn't fully drained. The abhorrent sight caused your heart to freeze over in fear.

As the guards called for the opening of the gates, your breath came and went in harsh heaves, chest rising and lowering to the point you felt like you were going to pass out. This couldn't be happening, shouldn't be happening...

Hearing the creaking of wood and metal finally start to move, you tried to drop to your knees as the guards attempted to drag you into the perimeter of despair. Your angered screams and protests fell on deaf ears, well...except for one, who rather enjoyed the calamitous echoes. They sounded so desperate and pathetic, so hopeless and disconsolate...the exact kind to intoxicate the monster that was Sukuna.

Of course the guards pulled you back to your feet in an instant, forcing you along again through the gates. As they closed behind you with a terrifying clash and thud, all rational thoughts ran from your mind as it was clouded in inconsolable terror. Arriving at the closed doors of the central home, the floor gave a cruel welcome to your knees as the hands of your unforgiving escorts pushed you down onto the wood planks of the walkway.

Their own beings fell to the ground with haste, hands and knees connecting to the planks while their faces became one with the wood, bowing with the utmost respect for the Devil who owned them.

Small delicate feet came before the three of you, and you watched the small woman in maid attire stand in front of the doors, bowing respectfully before sliding them apart from the center and immediately moving out of the way, dropping to her knees as well, planting her face to the floor in subservience.

You had heard descriptions, no, stories...and seen small works of art depicting the King of Curses, but never before had you laid eyes on him in real life, never before had you imagined such a being. The very sight of him made your shackles rattle with your trembling. As he stepped from his elevated room, down to be level with who was before him, more tears filled your terrified eyes but you were unable to pull your gaze away from the sight of him. Certainly your staring was rude, but it was almost impossible to tear your gaze away.

The second pairs of eyes and limbs were supposedly only myths, however you attained the truth with your own eyes.

He was taller than any normal man, and he wasn't lanky with his height. He was bulky, massive, muscles easily definable underneath his kimono. Two of his four arms were resting in the sleeves, gently crossed over each other to be at ease, one had his hand resting upon his hip, and the other was holding a kiseru to his lips that were pulled across his face in a devious smirk.

Dark lines adored his skin, outlining his jaw and cheek, complimenting his handsome features. If it wasn't for the rest of him being so monstrous, you could find him attractive, but knowing who he was, knowing what he does...it was impossible to look past that. Your skin nearly burned with his gaze attached to you so intently, already torturing you without any physical touch, already making your body weak with dismay... What sin had you committed to deserve this fate??

Since the guards were not holding your restraints at the moment as they were bowed to the ground, you were able to slowly move backwards, your nerves and fear dragging you away from the monstrosity before you. Smoke flowed out of the King's lips as he pulled his kiseru away, intense eyes following your every step like a predator keeping watch on his prey. The guards dare not move, knowing that unless told otherwise, they were not allowed to look up in front of their King without permission.

An alarming deep laugh emerged from his lips, following the cloud of smoke that was starting to dissipate. "Would you like me to destroy your entire village, wench? If any refuse to serve me, I will gladly remove the skins of all who reside in their village, use them as tapestries and curtains along my walls, and their bones will be kept as my trophies." His voice was frightening...and very promising. There was no space for bluffing or joking. You knew without a doubt he would do what he said, possibly worse, but the sheer terror that was strangling your entire being couldn't be swayed by his ferocious threat.

Seeing your body recede further, Sukuna lifted the hand from his hip in a swift motion, two clawed fingers lifted apart from the others, and one of the guards that was before him was consequently shredded into pieces by an otherwise invisible action, the blood and chunks of flesh splattering across the wooden planks and onto you, painting your clothing and face with an abundance of sloppy crimson blobs. The guard on the other side remained with his head still to the ground, visibly trembling but dare not moving.

A terrified scream tore from your lips and your hands flew over your mouth as the horrific scene still moved before you. Chunks of meat squelched as they settled amongst the ground from the air, blood pooling in the dips of the wooden walkway and the spray of red across your face already beginning to dry and stick to your skin. Your jaw hung and eyes remained widened at the sight, terrified sputters unable to escape your mouth that was hidden behind your hands as you stared up at Sukuna in disbelief. They said he was able to use powerful curse techniques, and that he was cruel, but this...this was grotesquely brutal.

"Do you wish for me to do the same to those in your village? They'd stain the dirt with their filthy and soured blood..."

"NO! Please..." Your body slumped to its knees, your face and hands lowering to the ground in a subservient bow to the curse that went back to his relaxed pose. This was insane, insane you had to go through with this, insane he just completely mutilated one of his own guards without a second thought just to prove a point to you, and insane to think you could still live a normal life after he was done with you...

Hearing a snap of his fingers, you feared it was another cursed technique to conjure up more acts of onslaught, however instead, a few maids had scurried to you quickly, all immediately bowing down at your side for Sukuna.

"Prepare her, and give her a bath...her wretched stench disgusts me."

His words were just as cruel and emotionless as his actions. Upon Sukuna turning around and walking back into his personal room, the maid who was by his door stood and closed them quietly before returning to her spot off to the side, sitting down onto her knees once more.

As soon as the King had completely disappeared, only then did everyone move. The surviving guard let out a choked gag as he turned from the splattered mess that was next to him, and the maids all stood and motioned for you to follow them quickly, their own lives depending on your obedience.

You were stripped of your village garments, and they were tossed into the fireplace that was beneath the stone tub for bathing. There was already steam emerging from the water as the fire was heating it and so far this was the only thing you were looking forward to. Your body was sore and covered in dirt and grime as most of the villages only had so much access to water. Taking several hot baths were not a luxury many could afford, as it would be such a waste of water and wood for burning.

Standing naked and trembling, you tried to keep your chest covered but the maids smacked your arms back to your sides, using wet cloths to get a decent amount of dirt and fresh blood off of your body before putting you into the tub so the water wouldn't get filthy too quickly. They kept you close to the edge so that they could dump water over your head and scrub your body as much as possible with herbs and other exfoliants to get your skin smooth and soft for the King's pleasure.

They never spoke to you, only to each other, and you remained quiet as there was nothing you could really say in the moment anyway. Not like you could beg them to help you, as their own lives would be at risk then...

After they were satisfied with your cleaning, you were instructed out of the tub, and wrapped in thin towels, hastily drying you off. Pushing you outside onto the wooded walkway next to the bathhouse, you were stripped of your towels, and left to stand naked in the wind where you trembled with the chill it brought over you.

The maids did their best to keep your hair separated as much as possible to allow it to dry faster, applying camellia oils to it and combing through any knots or tangles to make it soft and shiny. Remaining outside in the windy area, to still allow your hair to dry better, the maids tended to your hands and feet, clipping your nails and painting them so you didn't have the rigid appearance of a field worker anymore.

Finally pulling you back inside, they stood you in the middle of a dressing room where incense were burning all around, and the outfit they were now dressing you in was previously draped over a crate that had incense inside of it, so that way every part of you would have the lovely aroma.

You wondered what the point of all this was...why waste time and resources to prepare you as if you were a noble woman, only for Sukuna to defile you in his chambers shortly after? He really was a pretentious bastard... You still had to be worthy enough to be raped by someone such as him? Sickening...

After a short amount of time the maids finished their final touches, making sure your outfit, hair, and bit of makeup were perfect. You had to be presentable for the King...only for him to destroy your body and dump you into the grave later on after you were no longer entertaining.

Brought back to the center building of the estate, you were to stand in front of the doors to Sukuna's personal room once more, only this time wearing clothing fit for royalty. The maids at your side dropped to their hands and knees, once again bowing in respect before the doors slid open once more.

Looking up with a trembling lower lip, you saw Sukuna standing in the entrance to his room, looking over you as he did before, but this time allowing a wider grin to adorn his face, pearly canines that were much too sharp for any normal human being making their appearance. "Take your unworthy eyes off of me before I tear them out." The demand was simple. To the point. Your eyes widened briefly then you shot your gaze to the ground, searching the still bloody planks of wood for some kind of answer. "You actually look like a woman worth fucking now... Please, join me." His smug face and taunting insult made you seethe, warm tears filling the corners of your eyes as you proceeded forward, stepping up into his doorway while keeping your gaze to the floor.

Hearing the sliding doors close behind you, small and uncontrolled sobs left your lips, knowing your inescapable fate was getting even closer by the second. As he walked ahead of you, it was nearly painful to look all the way up at him, his height towering over you with ease. He said nothing as he walked, but you knew to follow and keep your mouth shut and to avert your gaze if he were to turn and look at you. Sliding a door open to another elevated room, Sukuna stepped inside and once you saw his personal bed at the other end of the space your tears flowed without any control.

Halting in his steps, you did as well and tried to wipe the tears from your eyes, but he stopped your hands with one of his own and let out an amused chuckle. "Leave them...I enjoy the taste of a virgin's tears..."

Though you wanted to deny anymore delight to him, it only increased your tears and his large hand gripped under your chin, turning your head upwards and side to side so he could examine your face. You kept your eyes away from his, and blinking tightly if it seemed as if you might accidentally look at him. "Hm...Such a waste for something so pretty to be slaving away in fields, don't you think?" He chuckled while turning your head to a mirror he had on the wall nearby. Your breath nearly escaped you, as your image was not something you got to witness often, and you couldn't help but to admire how soft and pretty you actually looked in this moment...not even recognizing yourself. "I am in the fields because I live to serve you, my King..." you sniffled out your quiet response, averting your eyes from the image in the mirror.

"Would you prefer a life here, little one? Clean, dressed properly, warm in the winters, cool in the summers?" His deep voice trickled along your skin as his face lowered to your ear, making you shudder at his closeness. "A full belly from all you can eat, clean water to satiate your thirst? Having the privilege to repeatedly serve your King in his chambers?" His hand pulled your face back to look at yourself in the mirror again, as if showing you a reward that you might have forever if you enjoy succumbing to him.

A life here? Was that even living..? Sure you could be dressed and treated like nobility, and the women in Sukuna's personal harem were amongst the most pampered and envied, despite their very short lives here... Some sought out this opportunity...however Sukuna was very picky in his decisions. Should this be an honor then? That he even proposed such a thing?

Now it made sense, the whole point for putting you through the small pampering session was to show what life could be like every day... Give you a little taste to make it less of a struggle for him.

"You...you keep all of your women this well taken care of?"

"You think I'd fuck them otherwise?" He chuckled deeply into your neck while kissing your skin hungrily. "Still, I'd have to see how much you can satisfy me first."

Alas the calm moment was short, as his hand moved to the back of your neck and pushed you towards his bed, making you stumble and collapse to your stomach over it. A small scream left your throat as you felt his hands untying the sash to your kimono, pulling the garments in a savage way to expose your prepared body to him. Instinctively your fingers desperately gripped onto the fabric, pleading for but a moment of mercy as he leaned over you, inhaling sharply at your neck, enjoying the scent from your bath as well as your overflowing dismay. Flipping you over to your back with haste, he crawled over your quivering body, dwarfing you beneath him. Two of his hands gripped onto your upper arms and tossed you a bit further back onto the bed, landing you into the pillows as your struggled whines were making him laugh with humor.

Shedding his own clothing, your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth, seeing what else resided beneath his robes. Not only was his build incredibly massive and toned with more muscles than you ever imagined on a man, but with the second set of eyes...second set of arms...was it really that much of a surprise there would be two of those as well..? Both of his cocks were already hard, and the angry and engorged heads were abundantly spilling ample amounts of precum from their slits. Just one of hiscocks horrified you... But...two..?!

The soft mattress gave way under his weight as he lurched up onto the bed, his massive body casting a shadow over you. Your hands still remained over your mouth, trembling and trying not to look at him directly as he moved over your naked frame.

"Relax little one...Its an honor to serve your King with your body. There was a reason I chose a woman from your village." His large hand came to the side of your face, fingers pushing your smaller hands away to reveal more of you and you sobbed quietly. "W-why..? W...we are just farmers...n-not special..."

Two of his other hands rested themselves at your waist, the pads of his thumbs caressing your stomach gently, taking in the softness of your flesh beneath his grip. "Oh, but you are. The women from your village are stronger and more durable." Durable...as if you were an object that was going to be used repeatedly and he needed to get the most out of you before you're no longer able to function properly...What kind of sin had you committed to deserve such hell?

"Spread those pretty legs for me." He crooned, a knee pushing its way in between your shaking limbs, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist even if you tried. Your breath was jagged, heart racing as the cool air brushed over your untouched, open folds, exposed to the monstrosity above you, exposed to his strength and lack of decency, exposed so helplessly...

"P-please...please don't..." Your sobs made him laugh more as his face lowered to your neck, licking a long, wet stripe along your flesh til he reached your jawline, going over the goosebumps that littered your skin. "Shut up..."

"B-but I can't do th...this...You'll t-tear me apart!" "And if you speak again...I'll tear your throat out." The amusement in his voice was almost unbearable, but feeling his sharp canines drag themselves along your flesh, leaving little red lines of promise in their path made you gulp your voice to a near silent whimper.

"Unless you're screaming from terror or pain, I don't want to hear you...Don't be a disappointment to me like the last few women. How boring they've been recently."

One of his hands was in your hair, his fingers gliding through the silky and still lightly damp strands to admire the feeling against his skin. Another hand that was at your waist moved down in between your legs, two of his fingers already prodding against your trembling heat, running their length between your lower lips freely as if he already owned them, already claimed them without you having any say so in the matter.

The sting that immediately followed two of his thick fingers delving into your tightened hole made you yelp and involuntarily shove your hands against his chest, squirming your body to get away from the new and already unbearable pain. But another one of his massive hands found its way around your throat, gripping tightly and suffocating your cries while holding you in place. He pushed his fingers in more until his knuckles were flush against your lower lips, curling them up inside your cavern and dragging along the gummy walls to stimulate a feeling deep within that you've never experienced before.

Seeing your eyes widen in confused way, he let out a boasting laugh, increasing the grip around your neck as he added a third finger to snake its way inside of your suddenly sloppy sex, encouraging a pressure from deep inside your core that made your stomach churn in despair. Stuffing his three digits into your protesting cunt, a seething pain swelled in your lower abdomen, almost a long lasting pinch as something finally snapped, making way for a fourth finger to cram its way inside without curtesy. A sharp inhale came through the choking squeeze around your neck, your hips bucking upwards unwillingly at the searing pain and ache that enveloped your lower body entirely.

His tight grip he had around your throat couldn't stop the screams from escaping your lips, your hands clawing at whatever part of him you could as he completely forced his fourth finger inside your freshly torn cavern, opening up the space more brutally and without reserve. Your walls were stretched abruptly, every gummy groove clamping around his unrelenting movements, forcing your creamy juices to spill out onto his hand and whether you liked it or not, your body was acting on its own to lessen the suffering in any way possible.

Listening to the lewd squelching of your crying pussy as it echoed through the room along with your attempted sobs and his cackle of amusement made your whole body cringe at the obscenity of it all. "Getting so wet while you're being choked huh? And this is your first time with a man? What a dirty little slut." his voice jested, licking your burning cheeks as tears ran down them, enjoying the salty nectar of your agony. He released your throat just before you started to fade into darkness, and two of his hands took hold of your thighs, holding them open while another hand gripped onto the base of one of his cocks, pumping the length to encourage more pre cum from his already engorged head, running his thumb over the slit to coat himself in the lubricating ooze.

The hand that was preparing your virgin cavern finally pulled out of you with haste, leaving you gasping at the loss of the painful contact. He lifted his fingers into the air to admire the filth that coated them and you nearly felt sick at the sight, seeing not only the thick creamy strands between his fingers, but the glossy blood that was result of your stolen innocence coated them as well, running down his wrist.

"I'll never get enough of this delicious taste that you untarnished maidens provide for me..." His voice came through deep and full of desire as he brought the hand to his face, parting his lips to drag his tongue through the thick secretions along his fingers. The abhorrent sounds of his sucking and lapping made your stomach churn and you looked to the side with a hand pressed firmly over your mouth to stifle a disgusted gag.

It was downright repulsive...And this...was a privilege??

"Now...let me stuff my cock into that messy, little pussy of yours, yeah?" Your eyes flickered to his quickly without control, begs of mercy visible in your glossy hues though he clearly didn't care. Your thighs were held firmly, fingertips pushing into your supple flesh harshly to hold you in place as he guided his cockhead up through your leaking folds, allowing your slick to coat more of his length.

Before your hands could even attempt to push him away, both of your wrists were clasped together in one of his large hands, and being shoved over your head and into the pillows, leaving your whole body stretched out and open to him.

"Your face denies you want this, but you're so fucking wet right now, it's obvious your body needs this. You want to be used like this...don't you?" His condescending voice made you shiver and shake your head. "It's okay...just the thought of your king wanting to claim your body is such a thrill and a turn on isn't it?"

Was it?? Was it that exciting to your subconscious??

"All of you whores end up begging for more in the end...cumming repeatedly from two cocks filling you so tightly." He purred into your ear, and before you could even try to say something in protest, the head of his cock pushed into your opening, forcing its way in and filling you without remorse or mercy. Your mouth fell open to let out a guttural scream, but only silence emitted, your fingernails digging harshly into the hand that was restraining your wrists. As your cavern split open, the lining stretched thin and straining against his intrusion, Sukuna let out a deep, satisfying groan, forcing all of his thick girth deep inside your tight, velvety walls. Feeling him finally bottom out, and his pelvis hit against yours, a scream was finally able to burst from your throat, the aching pain searing through your body. Your body writhed beneath his, sobbing and begging he pull out because it hurt, but he only cackled in response to your pleading.

Pulling his hips back gave you a second of relief, but he snapped his hips forward, burying himself deep inside again and you screamed at the top of your lungs, head lolling back in agony.

It didn't take him long to quickly find his pace, and you weren't able to deny your slick from leaking out of your abused pussy, thick juices already forming a pretty, white ring around the base of his huge cock.

"Pl...please! Please I can't!!" your begs of mercy only exciting his brutality...

Hearing his laughs as your mind succumbed to the pleasures you didn't want, tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes, feeling so embarrassed and ashamed. Your cavernous walls gripped around his girth tightly, suctioning to his cock and you shoved your head back into the bed, dropping your mouth open for heavy pants to escape, begging any god in the heavens to alleviate your plight.

Sukuna licked long stripes up your neck, sucking over the area where your pulse came through, enjoying the rapid beats he could feel onto his lips. "That's right Little one...get lost in that pleasure...All of you whores do, such filthy little things." His teasing voice made you writhe in shame, but your lower core was tightening quickly, feeling like you were about to be pushed over some ledge.

A large hand spread out across your belly as Sukuna released your wrists and leaned back, wanting to watch his thick cock disappear into your tight pussy with each harsh thrust. His palm pushed back against the bulge in your belly, enjoying the feeling of stuffing you so much, watching you crumble to your body's primal desires.

"You like it don't you? Like being fucked by your king..." he mocked your expression as your pupils were blown wide with lust you didn't want. You could feel the warmth of your own blood trickling down from where you were being abused, trailing in between the cheeks of your ass from the ample amount. Your sobs were nearly silent at this point, mind so numb from the excruciating pain. Stomach churning with the sound of his hips meeting yours, fucking himself further into you as if you were used to this horrific treatment.

Before that burning swell in your core could finally overtake you, your limbs were harshly gripped and Sukuna flipped over onto his back, pulling you with him and on top of him, chests facing each other. Not even allowing a moment for your mind to try to understand what was going on, two of his hands pushed your arms behind your back and he held your wrists there in place, keeping you from being able to hold yourself up. Another hand came to your hip and gripped into your skin so harshly the bruises would be instant.

He bent his legs upwards slightly, keeping his feet flat onto the bed and continued his relentless thrusts upwards into your torn pussy. His cock easily hammered into your womb, sending waves of dense searing pain through your veins.

It didn't take long for your sobs and screams to resume, your tears dripping down onto his ruthless expression of pleasure. His free hand caressed over your ass, groping and squeezing the flesh as it trembled from the pain. The other hand on your hip slid down as well, both now holding firm to your plump flesh.

And just when you thought his brutalizing thrusts couldn't get harder, he brought your hips down onto his, colliding them together forcefully. The room filled with your repetitive squeals and slapping of skin, his heavy balls and other cock easily hitting against your ass every time he stuffed himself deep into your soon to be spasming walls. You were losing the battle to succumb to such pleasure, sobbing and pleading for your body not to betray you.

How could it even react in such a way to enjoy such brutal treatment? Why was your slick splashing out onto his abdomen the more rough his movements were? And why did it make your whole body warm and tense with a sickening desire to let go?

His hands release your wrists from behind your back, and suddenly his claws are running through your hair before they take hold tightly, jerking your head up and back so he could see your face in the light. He wanted to see your sticky tear stained cheeks. Wanted to see your quivering lip as agonized sounds fell from your mouth.

The other hand snaked down to your ass, and two of his fingers quickly slid in between your plump mounds, forcing a choking gasp out of you, feeling the tips of his digits rest at your untouched hole.

"D-Don't, don't!!" Your screams simultaneously begged him to not pursue further while also begging yourself not to orgasm from being raped like this. Every new touch on your body made you shake and tremble, desperate to resist finding any pleasure in this.

"Oh but you'll feel so good, sweetheart..." he spoke through a sinister chuckle, sliding his fingers into the blood that had pooled in between your cheeks only moments prior.

Using it as lubricant for your ass, your head shook back and forth quickly as his two bloodied fingers shoved their way into the tightened ring of flesh. Your body instantly stiffened against your will, mouth falling open and your fingers digging into Sukuna's chest as heat rapidly pulsed through your being.

Your head was held firmly in place so Sukuna could watch you...watch you have your first orgasm from him forcefully brutalizing your cunt and just barely dipping his fingers into your other hole. You felt light headed as your eyes rolled back, your walls convulsing and spasming around his thick girth, unable to even let a sound fall out of your mouth as you were driven higher and higher.

The crash finally came, and the fall was the most blissful thing you've ever experienced. A lustful moan forced its way from your throat as your body tried to curl in on itself, the overstimulation driving you insane. Your unintended screams and wails of pleasure were drowned out by Sukuna's loud and prideful laughs, his fingers pumping in and out of your ass more fervently, able to feel the pulsing from your pussy on the other side of thin flesh.

"A delicious whore, cumming so hard as soon as I started to spread that pretty ass of yours!" His cackles made you want to cry, but in this moment you were too weak to even think of how to cry.

You tried to collapse to his chest from sudden exhaustion but his hand in your hair kept you upright, though you basically fell limp in his grasp. He didn't give you a moment to catch your breath or even fully understand what you just felt, but your eyes snapped open as wide as possible once you felt the head of his other cock start to push against your other cavern.

"No, no, no...please...!" your agonized begs made no difference as two of his hands spread your cheeks open, another hand starting to stuff his other massive cock into you.

He was ruthless and uncaring, forcing his way inside, your flesh tearing from the demanding intrusion. Your arms were taken a hold of and Sukuna forced you to sit upright on his lap, your body sinking down onto his set of cocks and your screams were silent and otherwise hopeless.

The searing pain that shot through you saw no end in sight as he held you firmly in place, bucking his hips upwards without mercy, burying himself even deeper than before. So much to the point you swear you could feel both of his cocks in your throat, threatening to come up and out of your mouth.

"I think you'll serve me well..." Sukuna cackled while using you like a fuck toy. All control left your body as your head fell back, letting a scream burst towards the ceiling from another powerful orgasm whether you liked it or not.

Unfortunately, your resolve to not give in without a fight was failing quickly, as you wanted more of this painful bliss to course through your veins again and again.

You felt so overstuffed, so filled with him...filled with the King of Curses who was gifting your body to new and intoxicating feelings. Hell you couldn't even remember why you resisted in the first place. Flipping you over to your back, your King took a strong hold of your legs behind your knees, shoving them back towards your ears onto the bed as he now mercilessly hammered into you.

Tongue hanging from the side of your mouth, your moans were loud and thankful, and his grunts of satisfaction from using your body were irresistible. Your mind was numb and foggy as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your overused holes and exhausted body before finally faltering in his own pace, chasing his own high with you squirting shamelessly onto his amazing and generous cocks.

Feeling his cocks pulse in unison, he grunted harshly while tightening his hold on you wherever he was grasping, unloading thick, hot ropes of his seed inside, the intensity of the amount instantly overfilling out of you.

Your half lidded eyes looked up to the ceiling as you panted heavily, your hands holding onto his forearms from where he was grasping onto you tightly. It almost felt as if you were stuck in a dizzying array of ecstasy.

"Hm...so how 'bout it you little slut? Wish to stay here with me? Get fucked stupid every day? Or prefer to go grovel in the dirt again with those other filthy, unworthy villagers?"

Even his cruel words and deep voice were intoxicating to the mind now...you knew how fucked up and wrong this all was. But you couldn't deny the gratification you got that you never thought was possible.

As you weakly nodded in confirmation, his hips moved into yours again and your sides heaved with a gasp of air, leaning your head back into the blankets as he began to rut himself into your sopping wet heat once again.

His lips enveloped the skin on your neck over your pulse, humming in mirth at the scent of your new arousal for him. Your legs wiggled and toes curled as he stuffed your caverns, caressing every groove your velvety and gummy walls had to offer. You felt like you were going to burst any moment again, and you had no complaints...

...this really was a privilege.

'Part 2' -> Here! Masterlist -> Here!

I hope I gave this justice! I did finish this quickly, so I apologize for any errors/mistakes. Being double stuffed by big daddy Kuna though? UGH where can I sign up?? Please just destroy me and own my body and soul..🤤🤤

( •̀ ω •́ )y

#sukuna jjk #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #sukuna x reader insert #sukuna fanfic #Sukuna x yn #sukuna #monster fucking #sukunastoy #すくな 🎐

1K notes · View notes

1tad0ri · 3 years

Note

(u can say no if u no like but-) giving itadori yuuji a blowjob in the bathroom stall cuz he was feeling horny and was being handsy with reader (this is before being involved in jujutsu) thank you so much!!

warning: public sex, blowjob (even tho this is before the jujutsu stuff, they’re still 18+ so pretend the jjk school is a college or smth <3)

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

how can i NOT like this

“that was embarrassing.”

“seriously? i thought it was pretty hot.” yuuji was trailing wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck, one hand shoved up your shirt to squeeze your tits while his other hand kneaded your ass.

you rolled your eyes, arms looped comfortably over his shoulders. “yeah, it was hot, but you weren’t exactly subtle, babe.”

“no one even noticed!” he leaned back to look at you, indignant, and you took in his swollen lips and the shimmer of your lip gloss along his jaw. he was so cute. you leaned up to peck his lips, finding them soft, thinking about how he was so sweet (even in spite of him groping you like this).

“yeah, i’m sure the prof didn’t notice you trying to finger fuck me in the third row of the lecture hall.”

“yeah, he didn’t.” when yuuji grinned unironically, you resisted the urge to slap him, instead pushing him back and against the opposite wall of the bathroom stall. you sunk to your knees and set about unbuckling his jeans while he automatically rested a hand atop your head.

“you look hot like that.”

you rolled your eyes, freeing his cock from his boxers and pumping the length, smearing the leaking precum along the head. “you always say that.”

“and it’s always true.” his hand slipped down to brush against your cheek. “you’re always beautiful, babe.”

you rolled your eyes again, but still turned your head to kiss his fingers in thanks, letting your tongue loll out when he pressed against your bottom lip. yuuji slipped his fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them, tongue running all over as you stared up at him.

“holy fuck.” he shoved them further in and you greedily coated them in your saliva, maintaining eye contact with him. “babe, please let me fuck you right now.”

you let the fingers slip out of your mouth, spit dribbling down and you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. “nope!” your chipper reply had his face falling and he pouted. it was so hard to resist that look. “you act like you don’t want your dick sucked, yuuji.” pumping the length, you landed a tentative lick to the head, making him shiver.

“i just want you to feel good too, baby.”

fuck. there was a reason he always left your legs shaking—yuuji was an unselfish lover, always eager to please, whether it be you wanting to sit on his face or his dick, he let you do whatever you wanted. there was something else you wanted to do right now though. instead of saying anything else, you leaned forward to wrap your mouth around his cock, pushing it in as far as it could go, hands wrapped around what couldn’t fit.

“fuuuck.” his grip on your head tightened as he threw his own back, the stall wall shaking as his head slammed against it.

you popped his dick out of your mouth, saliva coating the surface of it, shiny under the grainy bathroom lights. “yuuji, baby, you have to be quiet.” after class, he had pulled you into the closest bathroom to the lecture hall—not exactly subtle but it’d do. thankfully, the room had been empty, even with the mass of students milling around just outside in the hallway.

“right, right, sorry.” yuuji’s sheepish grin was a heavy contrast to the current situation and you once again wondered how he had so much duality. “feels good. i’ll be quiet—i promise. pinky promise.” he held out his hand—oh my god, he was actually serious—and you looped your pinky around his just to humor him—this bet would be over before it even started.

hand squeezing around the base of his cock, you raised an eyebrow at the strangled groan that bubbled out of him. “mmm, yes, very quiet, yuuji,” you mocked him, giggling, and set about pumping his length again. the slick coating it let your hand slide easily over the skin. “if we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“you can do whatever you want.” yuuji watched you with lust-darkened eyes, humming under your touch, and you felt a light push on the back of your head. “come on, baby girl, going to take me all, right? you’re torturing me here.”

“dramatic,” you mumbled under your breath, but still sucked the salty tip onto your tongue. you could tell he was trying his best to control his breathing and you decided to take pity on him, pulling it out of your mouth again. before he could complain, you began leaving soft kisses down the sides of the flushed skin, enjoying the way his thighs shook and how his eyes kept squeezing close in pleasure despite him fighting to keep them open and watch you—you’d work him up to his high, carefully, slowly, letting him keep his voice low.

“shit,” he whispered, back of his hand pressing against his mouth when you set back pushing his cock down your throat, stopping halfway to let him adjust to the warm heat. your hands worked on the lower half, messy and wet from your spit. “fuck, yes. just like that, baby girl. can i move?”

you gave a slight nod of your head—well, as much as you could with your mouth filled like this—and an affirmative bat of your lashes. you knew he liked when you looked pretty just for him. with that, you felt both of his hands on the back of your head now and you let him cant his hips forward, forcing you to swallow more and more of him. your hands fell away from his cock to grip his thighs, hollowing your cheeks and opening up your throat to let him slide in easily.

“you’re doing so good. just a little more for me, okay? shit... yes, keep going. you’re so good, babe.”

by the time your nose hit his pelvis, you were taking shallow breaths, trying to wipe off the drool that threatened to drip from your lips around his cock, and doing your best not to gag as he filled your mouth so wholly. yuuji was drawing circles on your cheek with his thumb, mumbling praises, and you could tell he was trying not to cum right then and there.

“that’s my baby. your mouth feels so warm. god and your fucking lips. so messy... i love you, you know that? mmm... bet your pussy feels even better.” everything he was saying was going straight to your core and you could feel the building arousal between your legs, cunt throbbing. you squeezed your thighs together to satiate it for now (he’d take care of you soon).

as soon as the weight holding you down released, you pulled off of his cock with a gasp, the back of one hand shooting up to wipe off the fluids that were dripping down your chin and your other hand setting a steady pace sliding up and down his dick once again. spurred on by his earlier words, you set back kissing and sucking along his dick, hands and mouth working in tandem. yuuji was cursing and moaning under his breath, biting at his fist to keep himself from yelling out. he set a steady rhythm where he would tilt his hips forward to meet your mouth when you would sink down—it made you gag but the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat was perfection.

his breathing grew labored the longer you worked, hand splayed against the stall wall behind him to keep himself steady. “fuck... gonna cum. swallow it for me, baby? don’t wanna get you messy—your little outfit looked so cute today.”

knowing he was close made you quicken the bob of your head, slurping and licking along the shaft. “mhm. yuuji, wanna taste you.” you kissed the tip. “on my tongue?”

“anything you want, princess.”

you let him push and pull your head along his cock as he reached his high, his face contorting into pleasure—you could see his muscles straining under his thin shirt, biceps flexing as he held onto you, and neck pulled tight as he tried to bite back his moans. it wasn’t long until yuuji was spilling into your throat and you dutifully waited until he was done, doing your best to swallow around his cock, and then lapping up any of the excess—you showed him your tongue full of white as a cheeky reward, biting your lip and grinning when he took in a sharp breath.

“that’s my baby girl.”

1K notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Rabbit Boy AU

660 notes · View notes

awakeshedreams · 3 years

Text

sugar and spice ( 2 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school’s resident bad boy…. Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don’t like don’t read XD

wordcount : 3k

a/n: honestly overwhelming response for the first part. thank you so much 💜💜💜😳

here's the second.

somehow, this took up a new genre for itself while editing and became sort of a bit enemies to friends to partners in sin.

that is to say, I have a template for this but this could go any ( dirty ) way.

let me know if you like this and are curious to know how things play out.

also, spot the cameo. it's so dumb but still. I couldn't think of anything else.

enjoy.

1 2

Paranoia was an old friend of yours.

Very real, very scary and not very nice to you, your peace of mind or your tested soul.

In your head, you already played out a million different ways the image you’d spent years building could come falling apart.

All because of him. Jeon Jungkook.

Though much to your surprise and fortune- he didn’t tell anyone.

You spent the entire weekend fretting over nothing.

It was almost like none of it ever happened.

Like your parents weren't about to tie the knot soon. Like you weren’t about to become step siblings.

Like he didn't walk in on his said step sister to be masturbating in front of a camera.

In the aftermath of that inexplicably humiliating incident, you had to make up some dumb excuse to satiate your viewers for ending the stream so abruptly.

It was your cat they heard speaking, you told them.

Cats don’t speak of course, certainly not in a deep baritone. But they were effectively distracted by the string of full nudes you posted soon after that.

Those few accusatory comments saying that you did have a boyfriend after all were buried by those coming from very horny people who were over the moon about the little apology gift.

That was out of the way, but you had a more pressing matter at hand.

That night, Jungkook had walked out after saying what he had to say without another word, leaving you feeling stunned and oddly cold.

It was like all the heat in your body just ceased to exist the moment he closed the door behind him and left you there all on your own. You didn’t even get to finish but that was beside the point.

The point was, you thought that meant like with many other things, and as people should since this was a free world, he didn’t give a shit what you did with your free time or your body.

But as the days progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were gravely mistaken.

Because contrary to that, he seemed to be up to something.

These days, he came around very often. Completely unprovoked and on his own accord.

It didn’t help that your mom loved having him around and feeding him.

Sometimes he was there for lunch after school. Other times he was there to fucking read the books in the study.

It was all ridiculous and quite honestly it was starting to get on your fraying nerves.

He didn’t even live there! You grumbled in pure frustration internally every time your mom asked you to add an extra plate for him on the dining table. This was your place!

Intentional or not he seemed to just love spending his time at your house for some reason.

But that just wouldn’t do.

The thing was you didn't know how to tell him you’d like to have the peace of mind he’d robbed you of by being all up in your living space every other day back.

He couldn’t just keep coming around.

Things were awkward enough without you having to see him often so already in between fleeting glimpses at school and lingering glances over the occasional dinner.

He might have been able to play it cool because it didn’t matter to him but this was a big deal for you.

He knew your secret and what else were you to do but be on edge and fidgety around him even though it seemed like he wouldn’t say a word of it?

But in the end, you couldn’t voice out your concerns. Not to him and certainly not to your mom.

So you were stuck here.

In between a massive rock and a very hard place.

Forced to endure even though you really felt like you’d been pushed past your limit.

Because he was there all the time.

For the most random reasons doing the most random things at the most random places at the most random time.

One time he had been casually listening to music while smoking by the pool and stroking the strings of his damned, matte black guitar.

You had been so stressed from all the work at school with the elections for new committee members amongst the juniors coming up so you thought to go for a swim to relax your self.

You honestly thought no one was around.

It was a Wednesday at noon so your mother was at lunch with some friends from high school. Plus, in the back of your mind, you’d reasoned that Jungkook usually only ever came over when she was around.

So you put on your best little bikini, grabbed a floatie and a soft drink and you went out.

Only to pause when you saw him sitting on one of the white lounging chairs, just looking at you with his earphones on, fingers having stilled mid strumming with a soft veil of smoke over his face.

You didn’t need to think twice to turn back.

There had been something about how his heavy lidded gaze took you in through the smoke as he did that thing where he cocked his head to the side that made you step back and quickly go back in.

You felt yourself get impossibly hotter when you realized you were probably giving him an eyeful of your poorly covered ass in motion.

You knew he was looking. You could feel his stare. Heavy. Intent. Dark. Swirling.

Like when he'd walked in on you.

You were hot and bothered the entire day.

In the end you couldn’t get anything productive done with a straight mind. And it was all his fault.

It took you about two weeks to crack.

That particular evening you were decided on telling your mom about this dilemma you were in.

Coincidentally, your mom had gone and invited him and his dad over for dinner.

Great. Just great.

You had no choice but to deeply consider the possibility of having to spill the beans another time.

Because choosing now to tell your mom meant you would probably need to tell his dad as well since they were attached at the hip every time he came over.

But no, you wouldn’t expose him in front of his father too. You weren’t cruel. Also you didn’t need the school's menace resenting you for making his strict, uptight dad turn on him.

If he didn’t have a reason to expose you before, he certainly would have one if things spiraled out that way.

So you bit your bitter tongue.

This time around, dinner was a more relaxed affair.

The weather was nice so your mom decided on a barbeque at your back yard.

This meant you wore a flowy sun dress like your mom did and he wore a loose navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some black casual beach shorts.

His tattoos were on full display.

You stared.

You were only distracted by them and how the patterns dance on his skin when his muscles flex as he flips whatever he is cooking on the fire because she’s never seen them in full before, you strongly reasoned.

Even with his sleeves rolled up when he was uniform, you'd only seen what he had on his forearm briefly other than the ones on the back of his hand.

That night didn’t count. It was too dim to see well. Also, that night technically didn’t exist.

Your eyes were particularly drawn to the little something peeking out the collar of his shirt.

You were too busy trying to figure out whether the curling ink around his collar bone was the flick of flames or the end of a dragon’s tail to notice that he’d lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe at the dots of sweet at his brows.

When you do, you suddenly found yourself being given an eyeful of impossibly ripped, ridged pure muscle.

You almost dropped your glass like you did your jaw.

What the holy fuck?

At that exact moment, he lifted his gaze and caught you staring.

He was probably expecting you to look away. Any decent human would expect that if they caught someone staring at them so openly. Gawking, to be completely honest.

But you didn’t. You quickly recover, pulling yourself together, and you met his gaze squarely.

You clutched the drink in your hand tight. Your pride wouldn’t let you look away.

In your own way, it was your little pay back, weak as it was.

He held your gaze with an unreadable look on his face for a moment with that signature slight tilt to his head and an added lift to his brow, before he looked away. Wordlessly, he let his shirt fall to push his hair back with his hand and went back to grilling.

You let herself breath then and tried not to think about how his biceps flexed at the motion, how his hair slicked back made him look even more dangerous and how the little smirk you caught on his lips was making you feel things she shouldn’t be.

Your mom suggested you all hang out at the pool once you were done eating.

You hadn’t been there since that day with him and quite frankly, you would rather not be.

Not with him.

You knew your mom had a swimsuit underneath her dress. She made you wear one as well.

She probably told them to come prepared for a swim too.

Just thinking about it made you short circuit.

You tore your gaze away from where he was standing with his father at the poolside, staring blankly at the surface as the older man talked to him about something.

You'd just come back from clearing the table with your mom.

When you guys got close enough, the men look your way. Jungkook’s eyes immediately landed on you. Meanwhile you just stare at your mom, trying to ignore his inexplicably fixed attention on you.

‘It’s shame we can’t swim.’

Your mother said, reaching for her boyfriend’s hand. She gave Jungkook a soft, apologetic smile.

‘Maybe once the weather is not so chilly.’ She sighed regretfully. ‘If I had known you were sensitive to the cold I would have suggested something else.’

‘It’s fine.’ Your eyes flicker to him. The smile he puts on is small and polite. ‘I’m not a very good swimmer anyway I’m afraid.’

‘Nonsense.’ She dismissed in good nature. ‘I heard you were quite the athlete in middle school. It’s all your father ever talks about sometimes. Right, honey?'

His father just grumbled.

You couldn’t hide your surprise at this revelation. You didn’t know this before.

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then he smiles a little with a shrug.

‘That was in the past.’

Your eyes just glided to him when he said that.

The tug at his lip looked wry and sad.

You’d never seen him like this before.

Solemn. Sombre. Not serious or intimidating or indifferent.

It felt like you were viewing him in a new light.

You settled on drinks by the pool. It was what your mom does to lighten things up.

It seemed like the gloom from earlier wasn’t all part just a part of your imagination.

Her mother suddenly chirped in between the light conversation.

'Why don't you guys get together and have a little group study?'

You suppressed the urge to groan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. You knew what she was trying to do and you wanted no part in it.

You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.

He beat you to it.

'That sounds nice,' he dared to say, even politely addressing your mom with Mrs. alongside her surname in the end uttered just the way she liked. 'I'd like that.’

You gawked at him in disbelief. Complete and utterly speechless.

Was he insane ??

'Doesn't it? Great!' Your mom is over the moon. 'Dear, take him to the study. You guys can do your teenager things and get along over books there.'

Your mom was loving and caring and she only ever wanted the best for you. You knew this.

Maybe she wanted them to get to know each other. Or maybe she just wanted to have some alone time with her man.

Either way, she practically shoved you two into the house with so much enthusiasm you wondered if she really loved you because suddenly you found yourself stuck inside your house with the last person you wanted to be with and you did not feel safe or rested.

The walk up the spirally stairs to the study had got to be one of the most intense, dragging moments of your whole life.

He remained a few steps behind you all through out the journey, following your lead in his own leisured pace.

A few steps too damn far behind in your opinion.

From that angle, you had a strong inkling that he could see your underwear from beneath your dress.

You knew this because you were familiar with what it felt like when he was staring.

What you couldn’t quite explain is why you didn't do a thing about it.

If awkward silence could manifest into a solid form for being so intense, there would have been a third occupant in the room the moment you two walked into the study.

It would’ve been so massive, all the high shelves and wooden tables lined up would have been demolished.

Jungkook remained the quiet person he was, looking around and skimming through the books on the shelves.

You were standing a safe distance away from him, absently doing the same. The books were interesting and all but you were admittedly more taken by the ink on his skin.

Up close you could clearly see the artistic patterns and symbols etched onto him.

While staring at the tats on his knuckles you couldn't help but also notice that the titles he picked up were rather complex.

Certainly not the kind of thing even high intellects reached for. Evidently, those tomes had been collecting dust in there for ages.

You were decidedly curious. Itching to ask. Hell, dying to know.

You dived before you could overthink it and find reasons not to satiate your rabid curiosity.

'You like Reader?' he paused and looked at you from the corner of his eyes. At his questioning look she gesture to the book he was holding. 'That's the third book of theirs you picked up.'

'Yeah.' he said casually, nodding a little while flipping through it. 'Their books are nice.'

A crippling lapse of silence ensues.

You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at the titles in front of you with a burn at your cheeks, fiddling with the polished spines.

How fucking awkward. All of this.

He probably felt the same.

What were you even doing?

You thought about telling him to ignore your mom’s attempt at trying to make the two of you get along. He obviously wasn’t looking for company or a friend. Quite frankly, neither were you. Certainly not from him. You were just trying to be not rude. Something you aren’t really surprised he probably failed to understand in all honesty.

But then he spoke, dragging you out of your reverie.

'What about you?'

Your head shot up and you found that he was standing a lot closer than before, having moved to reach for yet another complicated book to idly browse through at the top shelf.

This close, you could can smell him. Soft mint and clean soap and moonlight, not smoke. He disregarded the pages in his hands to give you a side way glance.

‘What do you like?’

There was a perpetual spark swimming in the dark depth of his eyes. It was striking. Pretty even.

When he lightly raised a brow at you, your thoughts jumbled all over before it fell back into place and you realized you were staring very openly.

But this time was different from the last time. When he had been miles away, flashing you his ripped abs.

In your reverie, you hadn’t notices that he had leaned a little to meet your eyes, and that he was real close. Like real close, looking at you intently with his head cocked to the side questioningly, like he was wondering what was going on inside your head. You could feel his breath fanning your face.

Shit.

'Uh,’ you scrambled for an answer, quickly tearing your gaze away from him to appraise the bookshelf. Your face felt like it was on fire. Considering how he hadn’t moved, he could probably see just how blazed in the face you were. Out of pure instinct, you grabbed a random book and shoved it into him to make some space in between your bodies.

Maybe with a little too much force. There was a dull thump and it made you wince.

'This.’

You hated how squeaky and breathless you sounded. Like you’d just ran a marathon. Might as well have, with how hard and fast your heart was pounding.

Jungkook took it from you, and you allowed yourself to look at him as he looked the cover over, completely fine, like you hadn’t just smacked him in the chest with a book.

The corner of his lips lifted a little as he flipped it over, cocking his head the other way before he chanced you a glance, making you blink rapidly and stand on edge.

'You sure?' he asked, sounding pretty amused. You were confused for a moment until he held it up for you to see, flashing you a full on toothy grin like you’d never seen on him before. 'You like books about horse gentilia?'

The jump in your chest was something you quickly dismissed as being one of sinking dread rather than anything else.

All the color that had been congesting your face washed away.

If there was a time you truly wished the ground would swallow your entire existence whole, it would be right then and there.

word is telling me I made up the word genitilia but I’m pretty sure it’s real because it just rolls off the tongue ( smooth ) like butter like a criminal under the cover.

the hole is one of the recurring characters so please be nice to it.

alot of things happening here if you squint and look closely.

any-whomst've, hope you all liked it. let me know if you did and I don't know come say hi? 😳 have a nice day 💜

#bangtan #bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au #bts au #jungkook au

188 notes · View notes

taegularities · 3 years

Text

of stars and moons | jjk (drabble)

Summary: He looks at you once and knows: not even the stars compare to you.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationship, so much flufffff

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but still very very sfw; jk is into galaxy stuff, yn is bubbly, making out! but that’s it

wc: 877

a/n: it’s me again with all my stars and universe metaphors \(*O*)/ hope you like it bebeee @xiaokoo 🥰 thank you again to my lovely betas @casuallyimagining & @missgeniality 💕 !!

prompt: “loving you is something holy”

wrapping up the drabble game x

MASTERLIST | DRABBLE MASTERLIST

“It’s so cold,” you laugh as you rub your hands together in a failed attempt to warm them.

You realise that a single trip inside could ease the discomfort - it’s not as if more than a door divides the warmth of your apartment and the balcony you’ve settled on this night.

Jungkook’s hands leave their spot at your stomach before they wrap around yours, his warm skin astounding you enough to leave out a dramatic gasp.

“How are you not freezing?” you ask, head moving to meet his gaze. Despite his skin on yours burning up, the tip of his nose is reddened and his cheeks are glowing a soft pink.

You laugh at the sight as you tell him, “You look like rudolph.”

“And you look,” he starts as he wraps his arms around you tighter, the blanket over you shifting a little, “like a little burrito.”

When the blanket slips off almost entirely, you reach out quickly, pulling it up until it covers your chin as you press yourself even closer into his chest and between his legs. “Your burrito.”

“Still cold?” he asks, lips grazing your hair as he looks into the night sky.

“A little less,” you tell him truthfully but fake a shiver nevertheless, just so that he tightens his embrace even more. Being the ever observant boyfriend, he realises immediately what you are attempting to do but still caves in to your silent wishes. “Why are you so warm?”

“Because I’m just so darn hot, baby. Don’t you know?”

You roll your eyes at the comment before you bring his knuckles to your lips, kissing each and every one of them before you whisper as gently and tenderly as possible, “Don’t make me unlove you.”

Behind you, his chest starts rumbling, a laughter erupting as he sways you from left to right and back softly while peppering your cheek and temple with chaste kisses. “I’m gonna make sure you never get over me just like that.”

And before you can answer, a bright sparkle catches the corner of your eye and both of you look up just in time to detect the fallen star that disappears as fast as it appeared, your gasp making Jungkook flinch slightly.

“Oh my god! Holy shit, close your eyes,” you command before you wiggle in his hug, following your own instruction as you mumble, “make a wish.”

Endeared by your neverending enthusiasm, he listens, eyelids fluttering shut before his mind utters the only wish that has lingered on his tongue and in his heart since he’s met you. He’s not even sure if wishing to the stars is necessary tonight - he feels entirely satiated, life providing him with more than he can ever demand from the universe.

And when it’s over, you sigh in content, nodding to the clouds and the light above you as you ask, “Do you think it’s a religious thing? Believing in shooting stars and their power?”

“Mmmh,” he hums, resting his chin on your head as he looks at the nearly full moon, the light so bright, yet nothing compared to you. “Not sure. Maybe. It’s hard to distinguish between religion, science and hope. But some things feel holy and sacred, no matter if you believe in that stuff or not.”

You smile gently, nodding, making his head move with yours as the back of his fingers run across your cheeks affectionately. As you lean into his palm, you ask, “Yeah? Like what?”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before he answers.

The sight in front of you both is so astounding: a beautiful picture of stars and the moon, their twinkling light so enchanting that he gets lost in them - if only for a second, the urge to reach for them ever growing. But then he realises that his own personal star is here, so close, right in his arms.

“You,” he finally utters, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding until now. “Loving you is something holy. I don’t think I will ever stop worshipping the ground you walk on.”

“Cheesy,” you tell him, but the grin that decorates your face in the next moment leaves no opportunity to hide how flustered you really are, your heart picking up on speed until you can hear it in your ears.

He grabs your chin with his fingers gently before he turns your head to his, his face coming forward to kiss you in the way you love the most: saccharine sweet, delightful, tasteful, every affection put into his movements that he can’t put into words. And soon, his tongue sneaks its way through to meet yours, the kiss deepening as you half turn around in the big garden chair you placed on your balcony ages ago.

Your fingers bury in his soft black hair, pulling lightly at the green highlights he got not long ago, and when he backs away, you’re left yearning, wanting more. Jungkook immediately notices and deciphers your gaze, reckoning that his might not differ a lot from yours before he pulls the blanket off of you both entirely.

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles as his nose trails the crook of your neck and the line of your jaw, “it’s warmer in the bedroom.”

if you guys liked this, please leave a like/reblog/send an ask !! :3 <3

204 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

monster, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Mafia boss Min Yoongi and his bodyguard Jeon Jungkook punish you for being a smartass. Oh, I guess there’s some plot too. Maybe.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, threesome, unprotected sex [get tested please], creampie); abuse; non-idol!AU - mafiaaboss!AgustD!Yoongi (black-haired Daechwita AU), longhaired!tattooed!Jungkook; mercenary!reader; Jungkook has a praise kink; you have a pain kink (maybe psycho tbh)

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“And?”

He tapped the air with his black card.

“Order anything you like.”

A beat passed in silence. You shut the leather menu you were holding and placed it on the table. You closed your eyes slowly and blinked at him.

“I don’t think this date is going to work out.”

You turned and were about to get up from your chair, only to have a gun pointed right between your eyes. The smile the guard gave you was almost angelic with his full lips.

“Jimin, get that gun out of her face.”

You gave Park Jimin a venomous glare. The sunglasses meant you couldn’t see his eyes even if you wanted to. The private room at the restaurant meant there were no one was watching.

“Shoot it. I honestly don’t care.”

“We both know that’s what you’re really aiming for.”

After a long moment, you turned back around to face him. Him and his scar over his right eye. A fresh reminder every time that you were the one who did that. His brown eyes seemed dead.

“How long do you plan on acting like a bitch?”

He spun the black card against the table. You hated it when he flexed how much money he had and he knew it. He didn’t do it because he was arrogant. He did it because he knew it pissed you off.

“I don’t know, how long do you plan on keeping me?”

He shrugged casually. The card spun and spun like a tiny black tornado. Then it made a sharp snap as he slammed it to the table. His eyes flickered up to you.

“Forever.”

Min Yoongi.

You were supposed to kill him and you got caught. The only time you had ever been caught. In your defense, it wasn’t because you were bad at your job. You almost had him. The scar proved it. At this point, it didn’t matter if you killed him or not. Your original contact was now dead. Min Yoongi owned everyone who as anyone in the city. Blackmail, money, whatever it took. Maybe mafia boss was too cliché of a title for him. You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. It wasn’t as if you were some kind of angel either. Min Yoongi was just supposed to be another number to add to the list of people you killed for money.

And, well, there was no meaning to that money now, considering he basically owned the banks.

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with you. Something was a little off. People didn’t become mercenaries out of the goodness of their hearts, after all. Maybe you caught on to killing a little too easily and felt a little too little. Maybe causing chaos was a little too fun. A little bit of an anarchist, perhaps.

Yoongi cocked his head at you, his black hair covering his eyes a little. He had been trying to convince you to work for him all this time, but you didn’t see a point in it. He had nothing to give you. Money? There was nothing to buy and nowhere to go. Fame? Not quite the title you wanted as a mercenary. Power? Fleeting as far as you were concerned. Freedom?

Oh, no, Yoongi wasn’t going to let you have that.

“You can play along or I can have Jungkook play with you. Take your pick.”

You flinched. The only reason Yoongi wasn’t six feet under was because of that little shit who interrupted you. Knocked your aim off, caused you to slash instead of stab. A single second later and you were trapped in his muscular thighs, passing out from a triangle choke and armbar combination. It wasn’t just that you were bested. It was that you were bested so easily and without even being able to fight back.

Fucking little bastard.

Yoongi smirked.

“I could go for a game of Go Fish right now,” you sneered.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you really want it to be like this, don’t you?” He tipped his head and Jimin stepped out. Panic shot through you like lightning. Aw, shit. Yoongi watched your emotions change in an instant. He hadn’t meant play in the innocent sense, after all.

“It pains me more than it pains you.”

You made a face at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

The door slid open.

“Hey, hyung, what’s up?”

And in Jeon Jungkook sauntered. Black oxfords snapping against the hardwood floor. Black hair long and messy, wearing black slacks, matching black vest, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He didn’t even bother to hide all the tattoos on his right arm. He gave you a cocky smile and looked over to Yoongi for instruction. Suddenly the short black dress Yoongi told you to wear was much too small and much too tight.

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table.

Out of the two, you definitely preferred Yoongi. Mostly because Yoongi could be satiated.

You inhaled deeply. “I’ll behave.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a sly smirk. “Begging, are you?”

“I was stating a fact. I don’t beg.”

Wrong answer. But, of course, you said it because you had too much pride to not to be a smartass. Yoongi smiled. His hand stopped moving.

“Are you hungry, Jungkook?”

“What about you, hyung? You haven’t eaten yet,” Jungkook asked inquisitively, hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t eat before you.”

Ugh. They all loved Yoongi like he was some sort of soft animal that needed to be protected. Even Jungkook, who Yoongi let do what he wanted because he was the youngest. You were sure Yoongi had to clean up some messes Jungkook made, which was why he wanted to use you. You were clean in conduct, diverse in methods, and apathetic to the cause. The perfect tool.

The problem was, he couldn’t convince you to do jack shit.

Yoongi took his card and calmly filed it into his wallet. Even though all of his guards were elegantly dressed, Yoongi was in an olive-green jacket, dark green shirt, and grey jeans. Silver accessories. No one could even guess how important he was.

And you? Tight, short, black dress with thin straps. Black heels. No jewelry. Smokey eye makeup and dark red lip. Not quite gaudy hooker, not quite rich wife either. A strange in-between.

Yoongi placed his hand flat on the table. Slowly, he turned It around and curled his fingers toward himself in a beckoning motion.

“Come here.”

You knew he was talking to you. He knew it, you knew it, Jungkook knew it. Jungkook’s dark brown eyes followed Yoongi’s hand, up the length of the table, and then to you. His lips curved into an amused smile. Like a predator to prey. You glared at the two of them. You never listened. You weren’t going to start now.

“You should listen to hyung, you know,” Jungkook purred, taking a step towards you.

“I hear every word he says,” you retort, standing up.

Yoongi tilted his head. Just a few steps and Jungkook kicked your chair aside, pressing his body against you. Hard, unrelenting, hot breath down your neck. You didn’t even look at him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Yoongi, facing him as you responded to Jungkook’s words.

“I told you I’m no longer interested in murdering him.”

Yoongi gave you an open-mouthed smirk.

“You regret it now, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled slowly.

One second you were simply standing there. The next you were twisting out of the way as Jungkook tried to pin you against the wall, knee up to defend against Jungkook’s inevitable kick. Jungkook growled, grinning as he dove again. You went low, elbowing him in the thigh to throw off his balance and slam him into the floor. Or would have, if Jungkook wasn’t sturdy enough to simply take it and he drove his shoulder into your chest. You hissed at the contact of shoulder to sternum, already bracing your body as you slid across the floor due to your heels.

You felt a hand grab you by the hair and yank hard, making you hiss in pain as you went down hard on your knees. Fighting Jungkook always took all your concentration. It wouldn’t be that way if he wasn’t such a skilled fighter. Yoongi, however, was an impatient and dishonorable man.

Yoongi held on to your hair and pulled up, dragging you to your feet and slamming you against the table. You let him do it because, well, it was going to become a beating if you continued. Also, Yoongi was more lenient when he thought he was the stronger one. But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of you yelping in pain, even if your ribs felt like they were rattling.

“I think I would be worried if you didn’t try to fight for once,” Yoongi grunted, grabbing your upper arms and dragging you up the table. You tried to twist out of his grasp but Jungkook suddenly appeared between your legs and pinned your arms down.

“Ah, hyung, couldn’t you pick someone more… docile?” Jungkook complained with a pout as you panted with exertion.

Yoongi chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me you want her?” There was a dangerous edge in his voice.

“I’m only saying it would be easier for you,” Jungkook muttered, forcing your legs in their spread position as you were perched at the edge of the table. Hs eyes flitted to yours and it was obvious – the second Yoongi released you from his grasp, Jungkook would be ready to pounce.

“Take what you can get,” Yoongi growled. Coldness touched your skin as Yoongi flipped his switchblade out, slicing through the thin straps of the dress. You gritted your teeth as Yoongi’s face appeared in your vision. “I was going to let him eat you out but I’ve decided against it thanks to your antics.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled.

Yoongi shrugged. He pointed to your upper arm, tapping the implant under your skin with his blade.

“You can go in raw, Jungkook. Finally had Hoseok install it.”

Jungkook took his hands off your arms and began to unbutton his pants. “Seokjin-hyung is going to be really mad if we fuck in his restaurant,” he warned.

Yoongi scoffed. “Then I’ll let him have a taste too if he’s feeling upset.”

“This will not make me tame,” you hissed, looking up to him.

Yoongi gave you an almost-bored look. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

You gasped as Jungkook yanked your dress up, ass hitting the table. Yoongi laid your arms one over the other above your head so he could hold them with one hand. The other laced around your neck, pushing your head up and forcing you to arch your back uncomfortably. Each silver ring cut into your skin painfully and you growled at him, even as Jungkook pulled out his switchblade and tore your panties to ribbons.

Yoongi leaned down, lips against your ear. His tongue slid out, curling around your earlobe. You stiffened, breathing swallow. He knew how to get you wet. He paid attention to detail, gently nibbling at your ear, listening to the change in your breathing as you gave in to him. You were human after all. You had your erogenous zones. You barely registered Jungkook cutting up the length of your dress, exposing your breasts to the cold. Your nipples hardened as Yoongi blew softly against your ear, whispering your name, almost pleadingly. It didn’t matter if he didn’t mean it.

“Don’t you wish it was me between your legs?” he breathed.

You sank your teeth into your lower lip, trying to control yourself. Your hand found his shirt and clutched a fistful of it in response. Yoongi chuckled and straightened, only to see Jungkook watching your pussy in fascination.

“Ah, so disappointing I can’t eat her out,” Jungkook pouted. “Looks so tasty.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Maybe next time, Jungkook.”

You could hear Jungkook’s pants falling to the floor, but you were still staring at Yoongi, holding onto his shirt. Yoongi seemed to notice your gaze and looked down at you with a smirk.

“What’s the matter? Ready to tell me you love me?”

You let go, scowling. “As–fuck!”

Jungkook entered you with one swift thrust, no stretching out, no warning, just hard dick shoved straight in. You gritted your teeth, breaking out of Yoongi’s grip and grabbing Yoongi’s shirt with both hands, struggling to adjust as Jungkook grabbed your hips and began to fuck you without remorse. You had never taken in someone raw before, and certainly not Jungkook’s rough, wild thrusts. Yoongi held you in place calmly by your neck as you struggled to not make a sound, feeling every vein and every thick inch of muscle pumped into you with vigor.

Jungkook, on the other hand, groaned lustfully as he fucked you, eyes closing as he felt your pussy clamp around him, tight and pulsing.

“Oh, fuck, hyung, it feels so good,” Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back, muscles bulging in his dress shirt and vest. His right hand dug into your hip, tattoos flexing with his tanned skin.

“Are you a spoiled boy, Jungkookie?” Yoongi drawled, voice low. He always watched. It didn’t matter who it was. He liked to watch.

“Yes, hyung.” Jungkook liked to be watched. He had a little bit of a praise kink when it came to his hyungs. He loved Yoongi, as they all did. Maybe a little too much. “Thank you, hyung.”

And well, Yoongi was clever. Even through you never told him directly, it was obvious you loved pain in all senses of the word. Delivering it, receiving it, all of it. Giving you the birth control implant was your gift as much as it was his. He could hear it, the strained moans you stubbornly kept in your throat, the wetter and wetter slapping of Jungkook’s hips against your own, watching with interest as Jungkook’s angry red cock thrust into you over and over.

He held your neck, slowly tightening. Your mind was fogging up, forced to feel the painful pleasure of Jungkook repeatedly pounding you into the table, his cock swelling inside you. Black spots danced on the edges of your peripheral vision, clouding your thoughts.

Jungkook bit his lip, digging his nails into your hips as he came with a groan. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling hot strings of cum shooting into you, filling you up as he pulled out with a hiss, cum dripping out of you.

He was still hard.

Yoongi let go of your neck and pulled out of your grasp. Before you had time to collect yourself, Jungkook was pushing you on top of the table, flipping you over so you were on your hands and knees. Your shredded clothes fluttered to the floor, heels still on as Jungkook climbed onto the table, pants at his ankles. You could hear his cum plop onto the table from your dripping pussy. A loud scrape and you looked up to see Yoongi repositioning the chair so he could witness your face.

He caught your eye but before you could lash out, Jungkook grabbed one arm and pinned it behind your back, shoving his cock into you once more. You gasped sharply, biting your tongue as Jungkook began to fuck you again, slowly rolling his hips into your cum-filled pussy. He moaned, feeling the extra slickness of your walls painted in his orgasm. Yoongi observed with interest, not looking away. Jungkook leaned down, hand snaking between your thighs.

“Don’t you dare,” you growled, more to Yoongi than Jungkook, but both ignored you. You felt Jungkook’s nail scrape against your clit and you stiffened despite not wanting to reveal that he found the right spot. Jungkook chuckled, voice dropping several octaves.

“Scream for me.”

He pinched your clit and you clamped down hard on your tongue, squeezing your eyes shut as you slammed your fist onto the table. He thrust into you, hard, making you see stars. Every muscle tensed as you struggled to keep in your noises, furrowing your brow as Jungkook pinched and flicked your clit, abusing it. You could feel your pussy clenching and throbbing around his cock, unable to control yourself as you came with a muffled scream. Liquid gushed down both of your thighs, the squelching sounds becoming louder. It was obscene.

Yoongi’s trademark open mouthed smirk appeared as Jungkook came once again, driven by your orgasm. You were filled up once again by his cum, gasping at the sensation of so much inside you. And Jungkook still didn’t stop, slowly beginning again, moaning at the sensitivity of his cock from the back-to-back orgasms. He let go of your abused clit and grabbed your hips. The first slap made you hiss, nails digging into your palm. He kept going, smacking your ass in between thrusts to feel your walls tighten.

“Such a spoiled boy doing such a good job,” Yoongi purred. Jungkook whimpered at the compliment, looking up to see Yoongi nodding in satisfaction.

“Are you hard, hyung?” Jungkook whined, voice softening when addressing the older man.

“Mm-hmm,” Yoongi hummed, spreading his legs a little to readjust. Jungkook watched him closely, trying to see his erection through Yoongi’s jeans. The thought made him even harder inside you. You squeezed his cock and he groaned, shoving himself all the way inside you.

“Let me see,” Jungkook pleaded, raking his nails down your back. You grunted in pain and glared at Yoongi.

Yoongi chuckled. “You want to see it that bad, Jungkookie?” He dragged out the younger man’s name, low and teasing.

“Please,” Jungkook moaned, gripping your side so tight you gasped. “Oh, please, hyung.”

Yoongi glanced at you, amused at your silent scowl telling him to give the man what he wanted. He unbuttoned his jeans lazily. Slowly pulling down the zipper, lifting his hips a bit to slide it down enough to reveal his black boxer briefs. They could see it now, the growing erection straining against his underwear.

Jungkook groaned, rolling his hips into you and hitting your deepest spot. You almost moaned, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s crotch. Jungkook did it again, mumbling to Yoongi.

“Please…”

Yoongi palmed himself through his underwear, taking his time. He leaned back, exhaling deeply as he ran his large hand over his clothed erection. Jungkook was whimpering, desperate for more.

“Hyung…”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and sighed, giving in. He always gave in to the youngest. He pulled down his underwear, letting his hard cock spring free. You felt breathless at the sight. Maybe it was Jungkook’s multiple orgasms getting to your head. But it was always like this. Yoongi always made you wait to see his cock. He knew how to make you blind to your own desperation, growing the hungry desire to see Yoongi’s ringed hand encircle his throbbing, beautiful cock, eyes half-lidded in arousal.

Jungkook moaned again lustfully, his pace increasing again now that he knew that he was the catalyst to making Yoongi hard.

“Harder, Jungkook. Fuck her rougher.”

Jungkook obeyed, slamming his hips into you so hard that the whole table shook despite being solid wood. You choked on air, feeling the cum dripping out of you as Jungkook began to fuck you wildly and with reckless abandon, hitting your most sensitive spots. And Yoongi, in all his audacity, continued to watch, still holding his cock. He noticed your gaze and he stoked himself slowly, making you bite down on your lip to avoid moaning. You shoved your cheek against the cool wood of the table, shuddering as you came, overwhelmed by pain and pleasure.

Jungkook hissed, shooting you full of cum once again. The sensation of being so full intoxicated you and you let out and soft whimper, hoping neither of them heard you. But, of course, Yoongi heard you.

Yoongi purred your name softly. You looked up at him, breathing hard, legs shaking. At this point your makeup was messy and your lips a little smeared, hair messy from fucking. He grinned as you winced, feeling Jungkook pull out of you. Jungkook was still semi-hard, the animal.

“Come here,” Yoongi said once again.

You had snarky comments prepared. You had you retorts all filed away. But the sight of Yoongi holding his hard cock, eyes smokey with lust made you forget all of them. Every muscle hurt from your constant strain of staying silent, refusing to let them hear you cries of pleasure. But your resolve was cracking now, seeing Yoongi’s want. You crawled off the table, ignoring Jungkook who was readjusting himself behind you. There was only Yoongi.

“Hold it in,” Yoongi commanded.

You walked towards him, trying not to hobble in your heels. Even now, you were prideful of how you presented yourself. You clenched your pussy tight, not letting Jungkook’s cum fall as you approached the black-haired man.

Yoongi removed his hand and patted his thigh. Wordlessly, you slid onto his lap, your hand lightly guiding him to your entrance. You placed one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, spying his smug expression out of the corner of your eye.

“Need me that bad, huh?”

“Shut up,” you said hoarsely. Your throat was dry from breathing so hard.

Yoongi chuckled. “I need you too,” he breathed, lips against your cheek.

You sank down on him, eyes rolling back into your head as he filled you up. He was still mostly clothed, the rough denim rubbing against your thighs as you went down. Yoongi moaned in satisfaction, hands trailing up your sides and pressing his thumbs against your nipples. Against your better judgement, a cry left your lips as his cock shoved Jungkook’s cum deeper inside you. You could feel every contour of his cock, every vein pulsating against your walls.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Yoongi drawled, pressing your nipples down and moving them in small circles. It wasn’t enough. You wanted his mouth on them and he knew it. He smirked. Yep, he wasn’t going to do it either.

You rolled your hips onto his cock. He grinned, pinching your nipples tightly and twisting them. A soft mewl reached your ears – you. Oh, fuck. Yoongi smirked triumphantly.

“Use my cock and get yourself off,” he purred. “You deserve it.”

It was all a trick. A ruse to feed your ego and yet you still did as you were told because he knew how to manipulate you, especially after wearing you out with Jungkook. It wasn’t fair, but Yoongi never played by the rules.

You lifted yourself up and sank back down, breathing hard. All your muscles were sore and yet you still found the energy to thrust your hips into Yoongi, squeezing him tight as you rode him. Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples, fueling your arousal. He smelled so good, some kind of sharp pine, and it was driving you crazy. With a start, you realized the moans you were hearing were you, saying his name breathlessly over and over.

“That’s it,” Yoongi murmured, eyes half-lidded and smirk on his lips. “Cum for me.”

Shit. If you were in your right mind, you could refuse him, but you were so full of Jungkook’s cum with Yoongi’s dick so deep inside you that you could barely see straight. He kept pinching your nipples, flicking them hard as you went down, shocking your system every time. You came with a cry, gripping his shoulders hard as waves of pleasure raked though you, your entire body shuddering.

“Jungkook, hold her up.”

Yoongi removed his hands from your breasts, only to be replaced by strong, calloused ones. One tattooed, one bare. Jungkook held you firmly. You were panting, unable to look away from Yoongi’s eyes. His scar was an angry red. Those dark brown eyes looked at you like you were his queen, and yet it could all be a lie because Yoongi was a master manipulator. His black hair was pushed back, damp with sweat. He smirked at you, baring his teeth. You had a strange urge to kiss him, but you held back.

“Time to fill you up with me,” he whispered, hands settling on your hips.

The first thrust was slow, languid. Not enough. You bit your lip, feeling Jungkook roll your nipples slowly in between his fingers. Yoongi didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to drive you crazy. He wanted you to lose your mind. He sank in again, hissing with satisfaction. He made his cock throb inside you, your muscles clenching automatically in response. Jungkook ran his nail over your nipple and you could feel yourself becoming wetter with every passing second. Yoongi’s lips parted, a low, guttural growl clawing its way out of his throat. It was gravelly and deep.

“The implant was a good idea, wasn’t it?”

You gasped as he thrust in particularly deep.

“First time my cum will be mixing with Jungkook’s, deep inside you.”

Against your better judgement, you whimpered at his words. Fuck. Yoongi grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

“You like that, hm? Being pumped to the brim with cum?”

Before you could respond, Jungkook moaned behind you, pinching your nipples hard. You winced as Yoongi increased the pace, rolling his hips into you easily.

“Wonder how much you can take,” Yoongi drawled, eyes boring into yours. “Should I tie you up and let them all fuck you one by one? See how much cum you can keep in that pussy of yours before I fuck it all out of you?”

You hissed, feeling Jungkook grip your breasts and flick your nipples hard.

“Hyung, don’t get my hopes up…”

There was no way that the wet squelching noises between your hips were only your juices. You could smell Jungkook’s cum dripping down Yoongi’s cock.

“Or would you rather only have Jungkook?” Yoongi purred. He didn’t miss your eyes flashing at his suggestion. He chuckled deeply. “I’m always curious how far Jungkookie’s stamina goes.”

Jungkook was losing it behind you, groaning, pinching your nipples and ramming his clothed crotch into your back. He was rock hard, desperate for friction. Yoongi continued to fuck you, pace increasing ever so slowly.

“I want to see you on your knees,” Yoongi sneered, “Face into the ground, ass in the air, cum overflowing out of you and falling to the floor.”

You gasped, jerking forward from the force of Jungkook’s movements, your lips against Yoongi’s ear and his against yours. Harder, rougher. His lips touched your ear, tongue tracing your earlobe.

“And then I’m gonna fuck you,” he murmured, voice low and deep. “Fuck you until you can’t walk or see straight, and then wait for you to recover, only to do it again.”

You moaned into his ear, softly, falling apart to his words and his tongue.

“Yoongi, please…”

That wasn’t Jungkook. That was you, breathlessly begging into Yoongi’s ear, so quietly that Yoongi was sure Jungkook couldn’t hear you.

He waited, pumping his cock in and out of you roughly, smacking your hips together.

“Please fill me up with you.”

Yoongi made sure to chuckle right into your ear before he slammed you down hard onto his hips, shooting hot strings of cum inside, cock twitching mercilessly against your walls. You moaned his name, hands tangled in his black hair, whining as he pumped you full. He always had so much. You suspected he let it build up on purpose.

He pressed his lips against your ear. You could feel his infuriating smirk.

“Mine.”

click here for part ii --

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #min yoongi smut

943 notes · View notes

bratkook · 4 years

Text

queen of broken hearts. jjk (m) part one.

I’m the queen of broken hearts, break you in a thousand parts.

part two. part three.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: smut, heavy angst word count: 3.2k warnings: one sided pining, jungkook is in lurv, oc is definitely not(also kind of a bitch), smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slightly rough sex, finger sucking, creampie author’s note: this is based on a request from @koochiekoo for the milestone drabble yay! hope you like it bb ❣️

Jungkook doesn’t know why he allows himself to constantly wind up in this position. He knows it’s not good for him, leaves him feeling hollow each time his mind clears, leaves him wanting more of you in ways he knows aren’t possible.

Yet somehow his common sense and dignity leave without warning the minute you come to mind. His morality and self respect jump right off a cliff with no parachute in sight, succumbing to your every wish like a dumb little puppet for you to play with. There’s just something about the way you call him over, your saccharine lies wrapping him around your finger so beautifully he almost doesn’t hate it.

He knows you’ll never love him, not like he does at least, his heart’s open for you like a treasure chest, ready and willing for your taking but nothing inside was of value to you. It didn’t matter if he dipped his heart in gold and covered it in pearls, you’d seal the chest back up, weld it shut with a kiss to stop the lid from opening up again.

It was always a kiss, a kiss that left him swallowing the words back down that he knows will tear him away from you. As much as it pains him to know he could never fully have you the way he wanted, being able to go on dates, telling his friends you were his instead of having to pretend as if you two never spoke, being able to hold your hand in a tender act of love instead of the way he gripped them as he rocked into you. He’d rather have you like this than not at all.

He preferred to have you pouting underneath him because he had slowed his pace too much for your liking, your beautiful eyes giving him a roll that shows that your patience was slowly slipping. That was the only face of irritation he could handle from you, he could only picture the way your face would screw up in displeasure if he let the words of confession come tumbling off his tongue the way he wanted to.

No, he didn’t want that. He could settle with this.

“Jungkook,” you sigh out, your hands pressing against his chest being the anchor to bring him back to the ground, pull him out of whatever day dream he was currently in, “fuck me faster.”

The words hold no bite to them despite your impatience, but he knows if he doesn’t listen they’ll only get meaner. He briefly wonders if he might have a kink for that, the teasingly degrading words that dig into his skin like the blunt edges of your nails are now, they make his cock pulse inside of you as he recalls them.

Jungkook needs help.

A groan of annoyance finally fills the air as you lift your upper body up, your hand pushing at his chest once more to get him off of you. For a brief moment he wonders if you’re gonna kick him out but the thought leaves him just as quickly as it comes when your hands grip his slim waist, flipping the two of you over until Jungkook is sprawled out on what he knows is your side of the bed. He can tell by the sweet smell of your shampoo that lingers on the pillow by his head, the floral fragrance invading his senses and only making his heart twist further in his chest.

“You going soft on me?” You joke as you straddle his waist, your soft hand gripping the base of his sticky cock and guiding it towards your entrance once more.

The curve of your lips as you smile at him pulls him further under whatever hex you must have on him. Your hair hangs over your left shoulder as you stare down at him, taunting him as you let the bulbous head of his cock nudge against your hole, the angelic mask you don not doing much to hide the devilish intent you always had.

“No.” He weakly responds, rutting his hips up towards you to get you to sink down on him, succeeding in letting the tip of him breach your entrance. The warmth of your walls sinking onto the first inch of his cock has him groaning, his hands scrambling up to clutch onto your sides, giving you another moment to make your decision before giving up and forcing you down the rest of his length.

A sudden shout of his name reaches his ears as your thighs smack against his, your neck now exposed as you throw your head back at the feeling of his cock filling you up once more.

This was why you always called him over, a bad habit you couldn’t shake, a guilty pleasure no one could know about. Jungkook’s cock stretched you out just right, nudging along the sweet patch inside of you with no effort needed. It made you lose your inhibitions, left you hungry for something only he could satiate.

“Good, I can’t have you going soft on me,” you practically purred on top of him, grinding down on him in an intoxicating motion that sent his mind into a frenzy, “you know I don’t like it soft.”

His eyes roll back into his skull as you lean back, your palm resting on his thick thigh to give you leverage while you begin to lift up and slam back down on him, a pace intent to make him lose his mind.

“Let me fuck you then.” Jungkook whines out, the fingers digging into your sides helping you keep the momentum, the resounding smack of your skin connecting filling up your room in the dirtiest way.

“Mm, tried that already.” You mewl out when his hands slam you down even harder, the tip of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, making a shudder rack through your body. He feels the way your walls flutter around him, a wicked smile spreading on his lips when he sees the way you try and fail to act unaffected.

“You got too distracted.” You continue with a slight tremble to your voice, your free hand trailing up your torso until you’re fondling your tits in front of him, twisting and pinching your nipples until you’re keening from your own ministrations.

Jungkook lets out a curse as he plants his feet on your mattress, the action jostling you forward until both your hands are planted firmly on his chest, a squeal of surprise slipping out of you. As much as you liked to act like you loved being in charge Jungkook knew you too well to leave it at that.

The way you all but sob as he pistons his hips up into you spells it out, you liked being manhandled, jerked around in his grasp and Jungkook revels in it, in knowing that for this brief moment you needed him.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out, collapsing on top of him as he ruts into you in a brutal pace, the raunchy squelching with each thrust of his hips only making another gush of wetness escape you, leaving his cock glistening in your arousal each time he pulls out.

Jungkook laughs now, a teasing edge to it as he watches the way you crumble above him, the bratty responses programmed in your head and filed underneath his name being wiped from your mind as he spears you open on his cock.

“Not distracted anymore huh?” He taunts, a choked moan dying in his throat when you tighten around him as his cock curves just right inside of you.

A fog falls over your mind, too heady with pleasure to understand his question until he’s flipping you back over once more, his cock staying nuzzled inside of you. A huff leaves you at the change of position, turning into whimper when he hooks his arms around your knees and pulls them forward, reaching deeper inside of you with each roll of his hips.

“I asked you something Y/N.” Jungkook pants, the tingling pleasure creeping up his spine at his approaching orgasm, his brows pinching on his forehead as he ebbs it away, intent on focusing on you first.

A sharp snap of his hips clears the fog, your head turning to the side as a gasp rips through your throat at the delicious way he pounds in to you, “J-jungkook, ah–“ you murmur, almost delirious with lust and he wishes he could capture this moment in his brain forever, the way you sound so needy for him only, “no nngh, not distracted, you fuck me so good.” You slur in a way he can just barely understand.

He knows though, with the way your back arches up, your hands twisting and pulling at your sheets as he continued the deliberate roll of his hips. Whenever Jungkook was around you he was more often than not buried to the hilt inside of you, knowing the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm well enough to know that you were teetering dangerously on the edge.

Your chest heaves as you feel the coil winding up inside of you, a desperate cry of more being thrown out and he can’t deny you. His pace never falters, bringing his hands towards your face and up against your lips, brushing along them until you open up just enough for them to slip inside.

He lets out a pleased groan when your tongue laps at his digits, your lips wrapped around his fingers and sucking as if it was his cock, swirling around them like your favorite candy that gets pulled away too soon. Whatever complaint you had at the loss dies when you feel those same drenched fingers snake down your torso and press against your aching clit, the tight roll of his fingers combined with the urgent thrust of his hips turning you into a blubbering mess.

“You called me for a reason babe,” he lets slip, his own words wounding him as he says them out loud, admitting to knowing that he was being used for your pleasure, “you gotta let me do what you called me for right?”

A pathetic whine is all you give him, one of your hands coming up to spread across his back, your nails digging into his skin in a slight burn that leaves him hissing.

“Right.” You keen, your own hips rolling up in time with his, desperate for the release that was blossoming inside of you.

He feels the way your walls get impossibly tight around him, your nails leaving half moons in your wake, littering his back with indents that only serve to send him rushing closer to his own release.

“Fuck, you gonna cum for me?” He asks gently, his fingers rolling over your clit in a way that nearly makes you shriek, “Gonna get my cock all nice and messy?”

“Ah, y-yes,” you cry out, a helpless gasp leaving you as a final thrust of his hips sends you flying over the edge. Bursts of light flash behind your lids in a way that resembles fireworks as you squeeze your eyes shut, your muscles tensing up as your climax rushes through you in waves, crashing against the shore of your mind and bringing you back to the present, leaving you laying limp and whimpering as you slowly come down.

Jungkook continues to fuck you through your orgasm, your pulsing walls fueling the fire inside of him as he rocks in to you with more desperation. His eyes are glued to the fucked out look on your face, your lips wet and shiny as you pout out and mewl underneath him, begging him to cum inside of you.

Fuck, how could you say things like that to him and expect him not to fall for you?

Jungkook takes it as an order, doubling over you and burying his face into the crook of your neck as he ruts into you, his hips finally losing the grace they always had, stuttering with need until he’s cumming with a guttural moan of your name.

Your hands rake through his hair as he fills you up, soft yanks against his scalp that only leave him grunting against your skin while he gives another handful of shallow thrusts into your dripping cunt, stilling his hips, his arms giving out on him.

As he lays on you in a heap, the both of you being exhausted from getting your fix, you give him a moment to recover. His soft breaths hit your skin, your sore legs stretching out after he released his hold on them but he was still buried inside of you, leaving you feeling sticky and a little uncomfortable.

“Kook.” You whine, your fingers jabbing at his sides a little too harshly to come across as playful. The sweat on your skin was becoming tacky and the added heat from his body only aided in making you more desperate for a shower, desperate to get him off of you.

“Hm?” He grunts out when your fingers dig lower on his sides, squirming on top of you as if he didn’t weigh a thing, like he wasn’t just a mass of muscle that was slowly cutting off your oxygen supply.

“Get off.” You groan, both your hands cupping his sides and trying your best to haul him off. He doesn’t relent this time, knowing he was toeing the line by the tone in your voice.

Jungkook pushes himself up and off of you, hiding the groan with a clear of his throat as he pulls his cock out of your sensitive core, not getting a chance to properly stare at the way his cum coats your folds because the second he’s off of you, you’re sitting up on your bed.

He rests on his haunches as you card your fingers through your hair, fixing the bumps and knots he had caused as you stand up. The curve of your ass draws him in, he wants to reach out and touch you but his hands stay glued by his side. All he can do is watch as you saunter through out your room like he wasn’t still there, sitting naked on your bed.

The initial sting of this had left him a while ago, having grown accustomed to the routine that followed. Hardly any words ever followed this. Jungkook can only pull his lips together as he steps off your bed, grabbing his discarded underwear and jeans off the floor as you make a beeline for your shower.

He takes his sweet time buttoning his jeans, hearing the soft mist of the water splashing against the tub, along with the song you played on your speaker. A smile sneaks its way onto his face when he hears your gentle singing echo through the open door.

Jungkook allows himself this much time, his eyes roaming your room, seeing the traces of you in forms of posters framed to the wall, the mess of stickers and books sprawled across your desk, photos of you smiling and laughing with friends. He finds himself wishing that he could take the place of one of those photos one day, a snapshot of the two of you smiling in the same way, out in the open world instead of being confined in the four walls of your room like a dirty secret.

It’s that same wish that keeps him rooted on your bed, the same confession begging to come out at his new childish want. Jungkook can only blame himself for this, you had never expressed desire for something more and even though you had an inkling that Jungkook’s feelings lingered a little too deeply, he was the one who remained. He was the one who came to your beck and call no matter what time it was, regardless of what he was doing. If he turned around and denied you he knew you wouldn’t fight him on it, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that you wouldn’t turn around and find someone else to fill his shoes. Jungkook found solace in knowing that he was still the one you reached out to when you needed to get your fill.

As the shower squeaks off he starts to panic, scrambling forward to grab his shirt and slip it on. Just as his head pops through the top you exit the steamy room with a towel wrapped snuggly around you, a look of obvious confusion on your face when you spot Jungkook still in your room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” You quip, a curious smile on your face that he can’t pinpoint.

“Yeah, sorry, I got...distracted.” He cringes at his excuse, the confidence he had for a confession slipping through the cracks the longer you stare at him.

You laugh at his remark, holding back the teasing comment you want to say in order to not keep him here longer than necessary. You rest against the side of your dresser as you eye him when he finally stands up, he looks hesitant for the first time, like he has something he wants to spit out.

“Did you need something?” You question, your eyebrow cocking up when he steps towards you with his hands fidgeting by his sides.

“I, uh,” he chokes out, his mind scrambling the sentence he wants to blurt out. How hard was it to tell you how he felt, just ask you out for coffee, not even dinner because that seemed too formal, something that would scare you off.

“I kinda have somewhere I need to be at right now Kook.” You cut him off, the phone you held in your hand vibrating and lighting up just as you say that. His eyes find the screen, eyeing the contact name that said ‘Joonie’ with a handful of heart emojis tacked to the end of it. It vibrates a few more times, an influx of messages from him filling your phone and it doesn’t take much guessing for Jungkook to realize that wherever you needed to be was with whoever this guy was.

And just like that the confession dies in his throat once more, your soft lips pressing into his in the first kiss of the night, succeeding in welding the treasure chest shut in the way you always did. It doesn’t prevent him from shutting his eyes and enjoying the kiss, even when he knows its intent is to shut him up.

You pull away with a light smack, pressing your lips together at the dazed expression on his face as he blinks back to reality, “Okay, I’ll see you around then?” He finally finds his voice, digging himself deeper into this like he always did.

“Sure Kook, see you.” You wave at him, giving him a sincere smile as he fumbles on his way out of your room like a dork.

Once he closes your apartment door behind him he sags against the wood, desperately wanting to bang his head against it but the last thing he needed was to have you thinking his banging was this Joonie person knocking.

“Next time,” he breathes out to himself, “next time I’ll tell her.”

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #yoonkooknetwork #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #jeon jungkook #new

1K notes · View notes