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#i have no shame. we have addressed this.
hella1975 · 7 months
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all hate to tiktok for taking 'having a space to more openly and actively talk about different cultures' to mean 'cultures are NOT to be shared and we must be vigilantly defensive of our cultures for fear of appropriation, a word that can be applied to any multicultural interaction'. like of course cultural appropriation is a very real problem but ive seen with the access to global multicultural conversation that tiktok provides it's made people TERRIFIED to even interact with cultures other than their own for fear of 'doing it wrong'. like at some point you have to acknowledge that in the real world of the great outdoors, the majority of people are eager to SHARE their cultures. yes there are ignorant questions and biases but also... how do you think those things get unlearnt? i dont understand how deciding that multiculturalism is an elephant in the room instead of a normal thing that should just be talked about and lived with is supposed to benefit anyone? and kids on tiktok are CONVINCED that it's a time bomb of a conversation to have and therefore must be avoided at all costs but like. people generally LOVE their home and their culture and are PROUD of it and want to share it. how have we made it so that showing genuine interest and a desire to understand something so integral to a person's identity is now feared and borderline demonised?
#thinking about this a lot lately. thinking about how fun it was comparing cultural differences in america#thinking of how when i was homesick one thing i found a great comfort in was talking about my home#and how it differed and i really loved and appreciated it when people would ask me about england#in a way that they genuinely just wanted to learn about it and not to take the piss#thinking about how the kitchen at work has chefs from all over europe. we have an irish chef and a spanish chef and an italian chef#and one of the kps is from eastern europe (i havent actually been able to find out where yet) etc and the way they banter with each other#like usually chefs are Problematic bc their humour is VERY abrasive and usually offensive#but this is one instance where it's actually to their benefit bc they're so unafraid to ADDRESS THE FACT THEY HAVE DIFFERENT CULTURES#i feel like the tiktok gen are so petrified of even acknowledging other cultures let alone discussing them#that it's actually sending the conversation backwards. like how does hoarding your culture and pretending it's not there benefit anyone#LET ALONE YOU AND THE CULTURE IN QUESTION. idk it just baffles me a bit that something that started as people on tiktok#genuinely spreading information and talking about the BAD side of this where people DO culturally appropriate or invade spaces that arent#theirs has now become 'for fear of speaking bad about it we will not speak about it at all'. and they'll crucify you if you do. like what#even at uni my best mate is indian and she's too scared to join the sikh society on her own so i regularly go to the events with her#and im typically one of the handful (or the only) white non-sikh there and i get SO welcomed each time#like there's such a genuine excitement to share the culture with someone who is effectively a blank slate#and like yeah ill ask 'dumb' questions or i'll have different experiences (tried a samosa for the first time at one of these events#and the moment that info got out i had like five STRANGERS trying to give me different samosas to try and it was genuinely such#a laugh bc yes they were TEASING me bc 'how have you never had one' but they were also really eager to share MORE as a result)#ugh idk what im saying. i just think it's a shame to watch this happen in real time on the internet#when if people would just go outside and actually TALK to people from other cultures they'd realise 9 times out of 10 the interactions#are actually really really nice for BOTH parties. and actually refusing to talk about this stuff is long-term pretty fucking detrimental#and it also goes the other way!!! like imagine if i - citizen of colonisation motherland herself - didn't interact with other cultures#and didnt ask questions or hear their opinions on whatever shared history we have from THEIR POINT OF VIEW#imagine the kind of shit id be internalising bc i only hung out with other white british people. it wouldnt matter if i was doing it#to be woke or 'respect their culture'. it would still be fucking ignorant. like half my interactions with other cultures#see me as the butt of the joke bc of this like aforementioned irish chef at work VOCALLY slates the english all the time#but it's done in an environment where we're FRIENDS and it's poking fun at each other while still addressing a very serious history. like??#idk if any of this is worded in a way that makes sense but yeah. i have thoughts#cant believe i got inspired to make an actually serious post bc of the CHEFS AT WORK. embarrassing. no one let them see this
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adhd-merlin · 1 year
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that time the knights were escorting Gwen through the woods, had her kidnapped from under their noses, decided to go back to Camelot anyway and, when Arthur enquired about his wife's whereabouts, went: "yeah, about that..."
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homophyte · 2 months
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there is a rapidly evolving rhetoric against transgender cowardice that is deeply shaming nd it worries me a lot
#myposts#'medical transition invariably and always will expose u to harm and violence and if it doesnt ur not doing it right'#'medical transition is the single most important thing u can do u have to do it'#what do u mean the first statement makes u hesitant to participate in the second. theres no hesitating in transgenderism#idk man. doesnt seem productive#from like an access barrier perspective or a. compassion toward other people perspective#no consideration for like abusive situations or any other reason someone might not engage w medical institutions#i see ppl who say this act like others are criticizing it because theyre 'forcing people to transition' but tbh#my concern is actually more like. youre making transition seem undesirable and scary and like it will be a negative#ur making it seem like its a loyalty test that is awful but needs to be done#instead of actually promoting it as life saving and vital and doing the political work that entails#ie actually addressing access barriers or abuse or medical trauma or anything really#i guess its easier to sit on the computer and tell other ppl theyre not good enough and especially ahvent suffered enough#making it a point of shame to not be doing X while also portraying X as bad and scary and not doing work to undo the things that make it so#is a bad combination? i think? personally?#its just a bizarre way to talk abt something so positive. as if theres no positives about it.#you just have to do it anyway. for reasons. huh#personally what gets me is that its literally like. yeah if youre a coward theres no room for you. we wont protect or help you.#if youre scared fuck you. heres XYZ reasons to be scared. aww you got scared?? loser#thats what gets me. whats that for what does it accomplish#i mean what is accomplishes is shame but. personally im on the side of the transsexual coward
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violentdevotion · 1 year
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yes u r my designated shakespeare mutual bc u mentioned him like once also hi my one nsci class keeps saying 'xyz ameliorates disease symptoms' and then i stop listening and am like ohh i wonder how ameera is doing😁💗❕
hi hi hi hiiii !!! I'm doing a shakespeare adaptations module this semester so it's appropriate for the next for weeks for me to be <3 LOVE that I'm distracting u in class unintentionally. fun story so when I was like 10 my dad got me a little electronic dictionary bookmark and everyone in my class was fascinated by it and one thing we did was put out names into it to see the closest match and the closest match to ameera was ameliorate, to make things better, and it's such a pretty word that I remembered it for years and years and years and had 0 opportunity to use it in a sentence ever so it's my title instead and now 10 years later it's distracting you in class too.
#ameeras.got.mail#h tag#some boy that i think was bullying me broke it in highschool its whatever hes a prick and we go to the same uni but hes in the medicine#building and im in humanities and if he ever tries to speak to me im gonna report him and inshaAllah get him kicked out 🙏🏼#also i have a girl in my class who has the same name as u and she hates me AND the other day i had a friend tell me that she thinks brown#girls with sisters are bitchier and i was like NO !!! I HAVE A FRIEND WITH ONLY SISTERS AND SHES REALLY NICE AND I LOVE HER SO UR THEORIES#BAD but tbf she only said that bc she told me she can tell i havent got any sisters and i was rly offended#also how are you ?!#ohmygod no wait back to that conversation i then also told that friend that i gave u my address and ur from my favourite US state and she#gave me the worst look i just know all of my friends think im stupid af when i talk abt my tumblr mutuals 😭😭😭😭#anyway this week (starting 24th Oct) we're doing macbeth which is THEEE play ever ever ever like drama and all that and bc its an#adaptations class we're also doing macbeth orson welles and week after macbeth on the estate if u wanna stufy along with me#the past few weeks were 12th night#and our final assessment we have to write an adaptation ourselves and im gonna do brown muslim much ado about nothing#bc u know that scene where she faints at the wedding and her dads like yeah good if she had any shame at all shed die..... brown dad moment
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byakuyasdarling · 2 years
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mushroomcaphat · 1 year
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whatever in less miserable news i had a cappuccino today for the first time because I'm trying to get into big kid coffee. it was really good and i am learning that the secret to enjoying unsweetened unflavored coffee is to go somewhere that makes good espresso and also eat something insanely sweet with it.
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inkskinned · 6 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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exopelagic · 6 months
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FRESHERS FAIR WAS SOMETHING.
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strawbeerossi · 5 months
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Taking Calls
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
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Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
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satoruhour · 3 months
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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM
BLISS, PURE BLISS
a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱
wc: 6.4k
warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.
you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.
“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.
“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”
he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.
“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.
“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.
“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”
you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.
gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.
and then, finally, his baby boy.
“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.
“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”
you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.
“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”
all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.
“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”
although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.
“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”
but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.
it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.
gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.
it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.
you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.
“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.
“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.
“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”
“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”
that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”
“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”
“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”
“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.
it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.
“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”
confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.
“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”
by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”
“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”
that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”
“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”
“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”
the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”
you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.
it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.
so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.
[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 
and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 
“oh, shit, you’re still here?”
“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.
“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!
“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”
“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”
gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.
but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.
“you—”
your head snaps to him, “yes?”
his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.
but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.
with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.
“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.
gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.
“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.
the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.
“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.
“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”
you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.
“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”
you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”
gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”
 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.
the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.
“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.
“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”
“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”
“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”
“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”
gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.
“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.
he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.
“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”
“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”
he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.
“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”
he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.
go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 
funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.
so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.
“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”
“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”
“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.
jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”
you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”
he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”
“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.
“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”
“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.
he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”
“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”
gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.
satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —
“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”
you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”
and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.
“s-satoru . .”
“yes, sweets, what is it?”
“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.
“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.
“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”
you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.
“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.
but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.
“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”
“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.
“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.
“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.
“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”
you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.
“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.
“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.
“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”
you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.
“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.
“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.
wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.
“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”
you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”
that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.
you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.
inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.
“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.
“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”
giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.
“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”
“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”
and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.
“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”
“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”
and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.
“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”
you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.
“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”
you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 
“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”
satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.
“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.
you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.
“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”
and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.
“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.
“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”
“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.
“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.
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retrievablememories · 7 months
Text
cherry bomb | jungkook (m)
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.
genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au
word count: 7.1k
warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!
a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 2
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CHERRY BOMB
don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.
virgins get in free!
THIS FRIDAY
NOV 3, 20XX
[address here]
"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"
"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."
camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."
"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”
“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”
“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."
"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.
"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."
your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.
she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”
"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."
camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."
you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."
--
FRIDAY, NOV 3
taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.
the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.
the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.
you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.
"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.
"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."
"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."
well, you won't argue that.
you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.
you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.
"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.
you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.
"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"
the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.
"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.
jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"
"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.
"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"
"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.
jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."
unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.
but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.
he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.
"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.
knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.
“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.
jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.
jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.
“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.
he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.
you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.
"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”
jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.
jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.
“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”
with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.
he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”
you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.
as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.
jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.
your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”
you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.
taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.
the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.
the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.
the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.
jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”
“wh-what?”
“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”
it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.
you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.
when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”
jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”
you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.
then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.
having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.
“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.
jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”
jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.
“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”
this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.
jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.
after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.
…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.
“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.
but now’s not the time to get delusional.
“no. i want more.”
jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."
“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.
you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.
you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.
you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.
“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.
“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.
you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”
sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”
he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.
his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.
“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.
“no, i—let’s go all the way.”
jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”
when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.
“yeah,” you say breathlessly.
it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.
“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.
“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”
jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”
he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.
your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”
your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”
you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.
“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.
“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.
"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.
his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.
his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.
“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.
jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.
jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.
you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"
"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"
you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.
"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.
"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.
jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.
the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…
the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.
the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.
to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.
you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.
the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.
a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.
you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.
you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.
thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.
he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.
when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.
"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."
"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.
"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"
"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."
“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"
unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.
sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.
you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.
“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.
the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.
the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”
“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.
“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.
you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.
for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.
you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”
“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”
“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.
there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.
“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.
after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.
“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.
“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”
nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”
changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.
i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.
ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.
i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.
i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.
but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.
while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.
not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.
i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.
also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.
whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.
im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.
First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.
And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.
If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.
(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)
And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.
I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
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Ghost Whisperer || CL16
AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.
Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.
Warnings: mentions of death
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Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.
“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.
“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”
“What’s Tinder?”
“Nevermind.”
“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”
You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.
“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”
You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.
Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.
“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”
“Do you speak English?”
“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”
You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”
You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”
She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”
“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.
“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”
She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”
“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.
“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.
“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”
You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”
“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”
You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”
You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”
The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.
You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”
“Goodbye.”
“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.
An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.
“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.
By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”
Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.
“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”
“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”
Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.
The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.
His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.
“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”
You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”
Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.
“Bring it home, underdog.”
Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”
You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”
His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”
You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”
An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”
“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”
“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”
“Jules says you look good.”
“I said strong.”
“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”
Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”
You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”
“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”
“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”
Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.
“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”
Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”
“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”
“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.
“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.
“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”
The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?
Slowly the questions became more personal.
“Do you do this for work?”
“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”
“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”
“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”
“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”
You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.
“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”
Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”
“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”
Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”
You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.
“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.
Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”
“I would say anytime but…”
You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”
You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”
“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”
“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”
“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”
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iicarused · 2 months
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##you are so divine
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alastor x reader / vox x reader
synopsis: general love interest headcanons
beware: obsession, yandere aspects , implications of manipulation
envelope from the author: i love them. man i feel like dating alastor would feel like being roommates instead of a lover💀
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ALASTOR
old fashion, but something to expect from him. you sit your pretty face down and let him do everything. all you have to do is make a meal and make the house a home. it’s funny because you barely get to do that either, as he would often take over and just spoil you.
though, you are not allowed to touch him. it comes slowly and naturally, so you often have to wait for him to initiate it. even then, it’s quite rare. you catch him hovering over your shoulder so often that it became normal.
his love language is words of affirmation and gift giving — but he started to stick around you like a lost dog much more these days
while you aren’t shown off to the world, he will talk about you to anyone who would listen. you are his most prized possession after all. quite frankly, that’s all you are, a trophy to show off and not a lover. he just enjoys the sound of calling you his.
this man gives you mixed signals while being straightforward, and you tried to leave but he insists that you are a lover. a kiss on the lips and a trip to the bed is all it takes to have you melting under his eyes again
“my dear, can you bring me my coat?” my dear. alastor never forgets to add the first word while addressing you. “it’s over on the couch — i have to hurry on out in a minute.”
“are you going back to that hotel?” you asked while fetching his coat. you remember the day when he first asked you to get his coat, and it was like a goal to reach after months of dating. while being the partner alastor is quite slow, you almost appreciate that he is still by your side.
“where else, my dear?” he asked in return when you handed him his coat. “the hotel is —“
“— is your finest project, i know, al.” you shared a look of question before he nodded at what he knew you were beckoning to do; dust off his vest and fix up his tie. it was like clockwork at this point. “you have a good day.”
“not a good day — a great day.”
VOX
while his relationship was never established with valentino, everyone knew not to ask. you came to the vee’s under the wing of velvette, and my, what a catch you were! eye candy, a prize, something the public would love to see around vox’s arm
began to whisk you away from modelling for velvette, but instead brought you in for interviews and made you the face of future designs (velvette was not very keen of the idea of vox doing that without permission.) introduced you to the world of fame
your pretty face next to his was all it took for hell to go crazy. everyone was all about the new power couple that streamed on every tv and the affection he publicly shown. an overlord? in love? everyone was gossiping
you were all he needed to overshadow alastor and make the radio demons “yesterdays news.”
public affection, public pda, you were public. he showered you in front of the camera, he spoiled you in riches where every paparazzi could see! often gushed about it inside the penthouse and the fame you both were receiving. praised you for doing so good in front of the camera
“doll, you were a natural! the press were eating you up!” a hand came under your chin, his fingers squishing your cheeks so gently. “keep doing what you do and i might make it to the top.”
“our story will put lucifer and lilith’s to shame!” you chirped. oh, how delusional you were to think that it was a love story that vox was writing. “maybe we’ll even have our own castle like a proper overlord of hell.”
“yeah, maybe we’ll even be the new rulers.” the emphasis of “we” always seemed to make you happy, and maybe he used it to keep you under his arm. that’s where you belong after all.
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letjungcoook7 · 3 months
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get back at him pt 2 || JJK || +18
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you tried to get back at him, but you were the one who suffered the consequences. but the game only ends when the king falls, not when a pawn takes the queen, right?
☾ w.c: 8.5k
☾ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
☾ rating: 18+ minors do not interact.
☾ genre: smut, enemies x lovers
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of sex, degradation, swearing, chocking, spitting, handjob, face sitting, cowgirl, eating pussy, clit playing and stimulation,  cum playing, squirting, swearing, noona kink, sub!jk(?) kind of, unprotected sex, creampie
☾ author's note: part two is already with us. and, guys, thank you very much for all the positive feedback on this smut, i didn't expect you would like it so much. i hope you guys like it and don't forget to comment, pretty please.
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"Y/N, what the hell are you doing with my mom?" Jungkook stormed towards you and his mom, who were casually strolling arm in arm under a tree on campus. He couldn't help but unleash his frustration.
You both glanced up at him, and with a sly smile, Jungkook
quickened his pace, adjusting his backpack. 
"Jungkook!" his mom exclaimed, "Is that any way to talk to Y/N? She's older than you!"
You shot him a smug grin, relishing the fact that his mom had no clue about the rivalry between you two. To her, you were just the sweet neighbor. His mom, busy with work, didn't quite grasp the dynamics of your relationship, and that made it all the more entertaining.
"She's only three months older," Jungkook retorted, getting closer.
"Still older," his mom insisted, releasing her grip on your arm to embrace her son, who shot you a glare over her shoulder.
"I always tell him to address me formally and call me 'noona,' but he never listens," you pouted. The truth was, you enjoyed pushing Jungkook's buttons, exploiting the fact that you were older. Deep down, it didn't bother you at all.
You couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire, especially with Jungkook's mom unknowingly caught in the middle. 
"I mean, I've always been the responsible, mature one," you said, emphasizing each word. "Maybe if someone listened to me, they'd learn a thing or two."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, clearly irritated.
"Y/N, you're impossible and so annoying."
His mom chuckled, oblivious to the underlying tension. 
"Oh, you two always bicker like this. It's just playful banter."
You shot Jungkook a mischievous look. 
"Playful banter? Well, if someone acted their age, maybe we wouldn't have these little disagreements." 
Jungkook clenched his jaw, suppressing his frustration. "I act my age just fine, thank you."
You continued needling him, "Sure, sure. I guess some people just take a bit longer to mature. No shame in that."
His mom intervened, sensing the escalating tension. 
"Okay, okay, let's not ruin our day with silly arguments. Jungkook, Y/N was just telling me about... what's her name again, dear?" his mom turned to you, placing a hand delicately on your back.
"Oh, it's Mi-Nyeo," you said mockingly, locking eyes with Jungkook. The layers of that statement weren't lost on him. Were you referring to the video? Of course not.
"What about her?" Jungkook asked quickly, earning a laugh from you at his obvious panic.
"Y/N mentioned you two are dating," she said to you softly, and Jungkook furrowed his brow. 
"Dating? And you believed her?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Why wouldn't I?" 
"Because she's a little liar," Jungkook stated.
"Hey!" you protested.
"Jungkook, don't talk about her like that," his mom reprimanded him.
"Maybe you should ask her about her 'relationship' with Chan," Jungkook said, visibly irritated. 
"What about me and Chan?" you challenged him with a look, crossing your arms and fixing your gaze on him.
"I don't know, you tell me," he shrugged.
"We're doing just fine, thanks for asking. Things are going pretty well," you replied confidently.
"Of course they are, especially after that little show last week..." he rolled his eyes.
"Are you seriously bringing that up?" you laughed without humor, sensing the tension rising as the video you send him lingered between you two.
Jungkook continued with a smug expression, "Well, it's not every day one gets to witness such an elaborate performance."
You shot him a pointed look, "Elaborate performance?'
"You know what, Y/N? I hope you and him go to hell together," Jungkook growled.
"Jeon Jungkook," his mom reprimanded him once again. "Why are you talking to her like this? And about Chan, didn't you used to mentor him? Always such a good boy. Y/N is a lucky girl."
"Yeah, Jungkook. You've always been Chan's fan, what changed?" you provocatively remarked, a playful glint in your eyes.
He scoffed, "Don't let your imagination run wild. Not everything is a dramatic K-drama plot. Nothing happened."
You couldn't help but smirk, savoring the discomfort you caused. 
His mom sighed, clearly caught between the crossfire of your banter. "Alright, enough of this. Jungkook, you should be nicer to Y/N. And, Y/N, don't go provoking him."
"Sure, Mrs. Jeon, I'll try my best," you replied with a mock-innocent smile, earning another frustrated glance from Jungkook. But you weren't about to try. No. You weren't willing to be nice to Jungkook. On the contrary, you wanted revenge. He had been stuck in your
throat since the day you last saw each other in your dorm room, almost eight
days ago. You had refused to even look in his direction in the following days in the classroom, so you didn't even know if he had shaved his head or if it still looked as you remembered. But seeing his mom on campus and ignoring her was too much. After all, she wasn't to blame for the son she had, right?
"But now I'll be on my way," you announce, glancing at Jungkook's mom.
"Thanks God," Jungkook said, teasing you one more time. 
His mom shot him a stern look, clearly expecting him to behave.
"Jungkook..."
He sighed, "Fine, fine. I'll be nice."
You winked at him, reveling in the satisfaction of having the last word, "Such a good boy, Jungkook. Maybe there's hope for you yet."
With that, you walked away, leaving Jungkook to grumble under his breath and his mom to shake her head in amusement. 
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"Does she know?" Emmie asked, peeking over your shoulder. You turned to follow her gaze, trying to understand who the subject was, only to lock eyes with Mi-Nyeo.
"About him sending me the video?" you inquired, turning your attention back to your friend and pushing away the just-finished plate.
"Yeah," she replied, doing the same.
"Of course, she knows," you chuckled. "Have you noticed how she stares at me?" You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.
"As if she's superior, as if I've lost something and she's gained." You shrugged. "She knows Jungkook sent me the video," you stated with conviction, emphasizing your certainty.
Emmie observed Mi-Nyeo for a few more seconds before continuing the conversation. "Do you think she'll taunt you and give you that look every time you cross paths?"
"I dont know," you replied, letting out a sigh.
Emmie nodded, "It seems like your rivalry is reaching a new level."
You laughed, somewhat bitter. "You have no idea."
"You two should stop before someone gets hurt," Emmie said, sighing. She always worried too much.
"No way. If he thinks he can pressure me, he's dead wrong. I'll fight back, and with interest."
"Haven't you already fought back?" she raised an eyebrow.
"It's not about the video anymore. It's about that night," you huffed, clenching your fists in clear irritation at the mere memory of Jungkook leaving your dorm room, leaving you alone in a vulnerable and sensitive moment.
Emmie nodded in understanding, sensing the depth of your frustration. "So, it's personal now."
"Very personal," you affirmed, your tone resolute.
"He may have crossed a line, but I won't let him think he can dictate the narrative."
Emmie sighed, concern etched on her face. "Just be careful, Y/N. These things can escalate quickly, and you don't want it to spiral out of control."
You flashed a determined smile. 
"I've got this."
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To be honest, you couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook for even a second. You suspected you were obsessed. Even though you were taking photos for Chan, you thought about Jungkook as you stuck your ass out for your cell phone camera and took a photo of your lace panties practically buried between your ass cheeks. But to make Jungkook mad, you need Chan and he also knew it. Then fine. You were using it and it was beneficial for both of you, right? You shrugged at the thought, pulling down your white mini skirt and hiding your red panties.
You exited the restroom and strode towards the exit of the economics building, heading briskly to Jungkook's apartment. You needed to retrieve some books you had left there. It was the perfect opportunity since he likely wasn't home at this time and you knew it.
Despite maintaining a façade that everything was fine, you were still deeply hurt by Jungkook, and you didn't want to encounter him unprepared. Although entering his apartment was risky, given the chance of him showing up, you had a script ready in your mind just in case.
You entered his passcode on the electronic door, revealing a perfectly tidy living room. A sigh escaped your lips as you caught the familiar scent of cloves that always lingered in Jungkook's home. You made your way to his room, searching for your two books on his desk. Once you had everything you needed, you walked nonchalantly towards the door.
However, as you opened the door, Jungkook walked in. The encounter was mutual, a shared shock as you both unexpectedly found yourselves face to face. Neither of you anticipated the other's presence, and certainly, Jungkook could never have imagined you entering his home.
Time seemed to freeze as you and Jungkook locked eyes in the doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. The air crackled with tension, a palpable awkwardness settling between you.
"Y/N?" Jungkook's voice wavered with surprise, eyebrows furrowing as he processed your presence. You took a deep breath, summoning the script you had rehearsed in your mind. 
"I didn't think you'd be home. Just needed to grab a couple of books I left here."
He blinked, the initial shock slowly giving way to a guarded expression.
"You just waltzed into my apartment?"
Your tone remained composed, though a subtle smirk played on your lips. 
"Well, the door did open for me. I guess your security needs an upgrade."
Jungkook's jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the books in your hands. 
"Fine, take your stuff and go."
"Thanks, I'll do just that," you replied, breezing past him towards the exit. 
As you reached for the doorknob, Jungkook's hesitant voice broke the silence. 
"Are you and Chan really dating?" His eyes met yours briefly before darting away to the floor.
You paused, a subtle smile playing on your lips. 
"Why the sudden interest in my love life, Jungkook?"
Your tone was teasing, enjoying the shift in dynamics.
He exhaled, the tension evident in his voice. 
"I just want to know the truth."
Turning to face him fully, you raised an eyebrow. "And why does it matter to you?"
Jungkook hesitated, his gaze finally meeting yours.
"I..." He trailed off, searching for words. His jaw clenched, frustration evident. "Just answer the question, Y/N."
You chuckled.
"Chan and I? Well, let's just say we're exploring possibilities."
Jungkook's expression wavered between disbelief and irritation.
"Exploring possibilities? What does that even mean?"
You shrugged nonchalantly. 
"Guess you'll have to keep guessing, Jungkook. It's more fun that way."
"There's nothing fun about that, Y/N!" he retorted, frustration evident in his tone.
As you continued towards the exit, you couldn't help but throw a parting shot over your shoulder. 
"Who knows, maybe it's more fun for me. You'll just have to live with the mystery."
Leaving him with a perplexed and slightly agitated look, you stepped out of the apartment, relishing in the lingering intrigue you had injected into your interactions with Jungkook. 
Walking back to your dorm with a carefree laugh, a clear indication that you had won the argument, at least momentarily, you contemplated what outfit to wear for the party later that night. After a relaxing shower and a meticulous personal care routine, deciding on your nighttime appearance became a priority. You wanted to be stunning, needed to be stunning. Appreciating feminine things, embodying a true girly girl, you felt as comfortable being the best in class as you did excelling in your appearance. You enjoyed being unbeatable in everything you pursued. Hence, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, torn between three different outfits.
The white dress, somewhat plunging and open at the waist, shoulders bared, hugging your hips. A red spaghetti-strap satin dress, open at the back. And a black strapless dress cinched at the waist with a corset, flowing at the hips. While the likely choice was the red dress, contrasting beautifully with your skin tone, you weren't entirely sure. You scrutinized, tried different poses, observed yourself from every angle. But nothing seemed perfect enough. It had to be perfect.
You bit your lip, pondering on the image you wanted to project that night. Jungkook's persistent voice in your mind didn't make the decision any easier. He always had something to say, always making you question yourself. You sighed in frustration, hating how much Jungkook occupied your thoughts.
Finally, after another deep breath, you settled on the red dress. Your definitive and conscious choice. The delicate straps, smooth satin, and the open back added a touch of seduction.
With the decision made, you began finalizing your makeup and styling your hair. It was more than just a party; it was a statement that you wouldn't be shaken by Jungkook's provocations. It was an assertion of your power.
Chan's car honked, and you immediately recognized it, grabbing your bag and striding briskly toward where he was parked. The music inside the car was loud, and he leaned over, one hand on the wheel and the other with a smile on his lips. Chan tilted towards you, planting a quick peck on your lips and savoring the scent in the car.
"You smell amazing," he said, biting his lower lip, "and fuck, you look delicious."
"Thank you, babe," you smiled charmingly, pinching his cheek, eliciting a laugh as he started the car.
"Look, I know it's none of my business," Chan began, "and don't get me wrong, you're a great fuck, but I'm not looking for anything serious, you know?" You chuckled softly, nodding, fastening your seatbelt. "But why are you so hung up on Jungkook? Don't you think you deserve more than a guy who sends you a video like that?"
"Well, I also sent him a video of us, so I'm pretty sure we're on the same level," you said in a velvety tone.
"Yeah, but he sent it first, didn't he?"
Chan seemed to want to defend you, which you found cute. You let out a soft laugh at his attempt.
"Yeah," you shrugged, appreciating his protective instincts.
"So..." he began, turning his gaze toward you, the city lights illuminating his face.
"So, you're not enjoying this?" You inquired, reaching for his hair. "I mean, you're benefiting from it too, right?" you said slowly, tracing your fingers along his jawline.
Chan laughed, gripping the steering wheel, and tilted his head to the side.
"Well, I can't deny that," he murmured. "Even though I know you're thinking about him the whole time you're with me," he added playfully, not a hint of resentment in his tone. After all, he knew what he signed up for from the beginning.
"Don't talk like that; you're hurting my delicate feelings!" you exclaimed, gesturing dramatically and placing a hand over your heart in mock offense.
Chan chuckled at your theatrics, his eyes reflecting amusement. "Your delicate feelings, huh? I'll make it up to you, promise."
As the car approached the venue of the party, the vibrant energy of the night seeped through the windows. You two strolled side by side towards the party entrance, engulfed by the cacophony of lively music and the contagious energy of people laughing and engaging in animated conversations. The entrance was a lively scene, with a few classmates greeting you warmly, and soon enough, you found yourselves holding strong drinks, engaged in a spirited competition of who could down their beverage the fastest. Laughter echoed within your circle of friends as you joined in the revelry.
The dance floor beckoned, and you found yourself dancing energetically with Emmie and Jin-Ju. The neon lights illuminated the dance floor, casting vibrant hues that mirrored the lively spirit of the party.
Your momentary lapse of forgetfulness only lasted a few minutes until you spotted Mi-Nyeo and Jungkook making their grand entrance to the party. An exaggerated eye roll accompanied your swift turn, ensuring you faced the opposite direction. The last thing you needed was a live, 3D, full-color spectacle of the two right in front of you. While Jungkook's presence wasn't entirely unexpected, the addition of Mi-Nyeo was a bit much. Maybe he was just playing the game, much like you. The thought elicited a slight grimace. Of course, he saw this coming. But why didn't you? Damn, was he in the advantage again? How naive were you to assume Mi-Nyeo wouldn't be accompanying Jungkook tonight? You huffed in frustration.
"What's on your mind?" Chan whispered in your ear, and you shook your head, trying not to let your thoughts brew further drama, at least not with Chan right now.
"Just college stuff," you lied, and he chuckled, unsure if he bought into your half-hearted deception.
"I can't believe your mind has already drifted to college. Can't be a party girl and a nerd at the same time!" Jin-Ju declared in a slurred tone, clearly well into her cups.
You shot Jin-Ju a playful glare, "Maybe I'm just a multi-dimensional person, living my best life."
The group continued their revelry, dancing and enjoying the festivities. Despite your attempt to shake off the thoughts of Jungkook and Mi-Nyeo, you couldn't help but sneak occasional glances in their direction. They seemed engrossed in their own conversation, laughter shared between them. It irritated you, the ease with which they interacted.
As the night progressed, Chan pulled you again into the dance floor, the pulsating music setting the tone for a lively evening. After a few energetic dance routines, you retreated to a quieter corner with Chan to catch your breath. The alcohol in your system, combined with the adrenaline, created a heady concoction.
"Having fun?" Chan asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Yeah, it's not bad," you admitted, a genuine smile playing on your lips.
The two of you shared a laugh, amused by Emmie and Jin-Ju's antics as you observed them from a distance. They embraced and giggled, both clearly high, providing entertainment as you watched. Unbeknownst to you, your gaze shifted towards Jungkook, and this time, you could scrutinize him properly.
His hair remained perfectly styled, even though he was clearly under the influence. Clad in a white shirt and snug black pants, you raised an eyebrow at the departure from his usual loose-fitting attire. He held Mi-Nyeo by the waist as she danced in front of him, eliciting a flush in your cheeks and an eye roll.
The music shifted just as Jungkook's eyes met yours. You furrowed your brows and squinted, deciding to give Jungkook a little more to contemplate.
You whispered to Chan, "Let's join the dance floor.”
Chan grinned, playing along. "Lead the way, Y/N."
You held Chan's hand, placing a long kiss on the back of it and pulling him a little closer to the center of the dance floor, making sure that Jungkook was still staring at you, even with Mi-Nyeo dancing with her arms around his neck and with her mouth very close to Jungkook's.
You swallowed hard and started dancing in front of Chan, who put his hands on your hips, holding you steady while you forced your butt on his hips and swayed to the rhythm of the music. The boy sighed, feeling the friction your ass caused against his pelvis. You saw Jungkook bite his lip angrily, which made you smile and continue rubbing yourself against Chan.
He now put your hair aside and breathed against your neck, giving you goosebumps. He whispers, “When are you going to let me fuck that ass?”
You let out a low laugh and whispered back, “Never.”
Chan didn't respond, he just gave a crooked smile and continued dancing with you. Your blood boiled as you watched Jungkook pull Mi-Nyeo by the wrist, guiding her outside. His gaze swept across Jungkook's body and noticed that he had a condom in the back pocket of his pants. The pants were tight and clearly marked what you deduced to be a condom due to the round shape.
FUCK.
He was going to fuck her.
He was going to fuck her now.
You felt your eyes water. You were not only sad, but mostly angry. And now you didn’t want to be dancing like this with Chan anymore. Even though he knew the real reason why you were doing this, you felt dirty and it made you suddenly stop dancing.
Your stomach was churning and not just because of the effect of the alchool on your body, but the images from the video that Jungkook had sent you. The thought that the images in the video could be happening now made you feel sick.
"Hey, I need some fresh air," you whispered to him, your sudden shift in demeanor clearly catching him off guard.
"Are you okay? Do you want me to come with you?" he offered, concern lacing his sweet tone.
"No, I just need some air," you reassured him with a glance. "I'll be right back." You smiled, planting a quick peck on his cheek as you walked briskly outside.
The cool night air enveloped you as you stepped onto the quiet balcony. The distant hum of the party below provided a calming contrast to the intensity inside. Leaning against the railing, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the swirling emotions.
 You took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp night air as indistinct murmurs of conversation surrounded you. Leaning against the balcony railing, you tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Perhaps everyone was right, this game was becoming too twisted, and you feared you might end up getting hurt. Maybe Jungkook had indeed scored a victory.
Lost in your thoughts, someone yanked your shoulder rather unceremoniously, startling you. Turning your face, you were met with an impatient stare from Mi-Nyeo.
"Y/N, right?" She looked you up and down with an air of superiority and mockery. "Honestly, I shouldn't even be bothering with a jerk like Jungkook," she chuckled ironically, devoid of any humor. "But he's in the treehouse in the backyard, and well, he's looking for you."
"What?" You blinked a few times to process what the girl was saying.
"Are you dumb?" she snapped. "I said he's looking for you, calling your name or something," she huffed. "I don't know what the hell is going on between you two, but I'm just tired of being caught in the middle of it."
You frowned at Mi-Nyeo's abrupt revelation, trying to make sense of the unexpected situation. Why would Jungkook be looking for you? And in the treehouse, of all places?
"I don't get it. Why?" you asked, a mixture of confusion and suspicion in your voice.
Mi-Nyeo rolled her eyes, clearly impatient. "How should I know? Maybe he's feeling remorseful for something. Frankly, I couldn't care less."
Despite her dismissive attitude, curiosity got the better of you. You decided to check what Jungkook wanted, even if it meant entering a potentially awkward conversation. Taking a deep breath, you turned away from Mi-Nyeo and headed towards the backyard where the treehouse stood.
The night air was cool, and the sounds of the party faded as you approached the treehouse. You climbed the ladder, hesitating for a moment before opening the door. Jungkook was sitting inside.  He was huddled near one of the windows, illuminated only by the night's faint light. You entered, noticing the redness of his nose and mouth and the slightly swollen eyes. He had been crying.
"Hey," you said softly, and his eyes met yours, registering a hint of surprise. "Are you okay?"
"What are you doing here?" he raised an eyebrow.
"I could ask you the same thing—what are you doing in a treehouse in the middle of a college party?" You replied playfully, but Jungkook simply averted his gaze and stayed silent. You settled next to him, leaning against the wooden wall of the treehouse. Adjusting your dress, you looked around, hesitating to say more.
"What are you doing here?" he repeated softly.
"Mi-Nyeo said you were looking for me," you answered, and he let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"I see," he said, shaking his head.
"You didn't?"
Now, you were genuinely confused.
"Not exactly," Jungkook replied.
As you waited for an explanation, the air inside the treehouse felt heavy with unspoken tension. Jungkook ran a hand through his disheveled hair, avoiding eye contact.
"I..." he began, but faltered. "We came here, and we were making out and I just said your name instead of hers."
"What did what?" you chuckled, finding the irony amusing. Jungkook laughed as well.
"Well...," he began, running his tongue over his lips, moistening them.
"You can't stop thinking about me, can you?" you teased, a smile lighting up your eyes.
Jungkook's gaze met yours, a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty in his eyes. "I guess not," he admitted, his usual confident demeanor momentarily shaken.
"And why were you crying?" you asked, locking eyes with him.
"I wasn't crying," he immediately denied, and you raised an eyebrow, silently challenging him. "Well, maybe a few tears..."
"Jungkook, you have the exact same look you had when you cried that time I got the scholarship and you lost. You're not fooling me," you said confidently, and he chuckled lightly.
"I didn't cry in front of you," he defended himself.
"Yes, you did," you insisted.
The gravity of the situation weighed even heavier. He seemed distressed, as if grappling with emotions he barely understood. You watched closely every expression on his face, trying to decipher the confusion consuming him.
"It's just hard to see that we turned all of this into such a sick mess, Y/N. I hate seeing you with him, I hate the way he touches you, I hate the way he looks at you, I hate..." He hesitated, his voice faltering, and his eyes wandering, as if afraid that you could see his soul if your gazes met.
Jungkook's vulnerability was palpable, and you felt the complexity of the moment. There was more at stake than just a teasing game between you two.
"Jungkook," you began, choosing your words carefully.
But he looked at you, with those round, puppy eyes that you couldn't resist. You opened your mouth, but you just couldn't make a sound. You held his face with both hands, quickly knelt on the floor and kissed him.
Jungkook looked relieved as soon as your lips touched. You were relieved too. You had a feeling that you would never kiss him again, your lips would never find a way back to each other.
He began to move his mouth over yours in a slow and smooth rhythm, his tongue touched yours making you sigh while both of Jungkook's hands held your waist. He extended his legs and pulled you onto his lap, making you wrap your legs on either side of Jungkook's hips.
But the kiss was desperate, as if you were going to lose that moment at any second, as if it were too delicate to remain in evidence for long. As your lips slid across his and your tongue danced, you touched his neck, running your fingertips down to his shoulder while Jungkook's hands palmed the small of your back.
He bit your lower lip hard and you grunted, moaning softly and he opened his eyes, looking at you. It's amazing how quickly his puppy dog ​​eyes turned into something darker. Jungkook pushed your hair to the side and focused on kissing the curve of your neck, sliding the tip of his tongue along your skin, making you moan once again. He sucked at your skin, leaving not just one, but three bruised marks on your neck.
Your dress was tight on your hips, enough so that, at this point, it had already rolled up and left your ass and panties exposed, due to the movements you made on top of Jungkook. He palmed your ass and squeezed your skin with such possession that you couldn't stop smiling in approval.
You rolled over Jungkook's growing erection through the tight pants he was wearing, making his hard dick even more visible and the thin fabric of your panties and the dark jeans he was wearing were the only thing separating you from ends up on his dick. You moved your hips back and forth, making the lace of your panties rub against your clit, making you moan.
You were teary-eyed two minutes ago and now the only thing soaked was your panties.
Jungkook kissed your neck while you tilted your head back, feeling his mouth on your skin.
“Did you think about me too?” he questioned, against your skin.
“Yes” you replied back and he firmly grabbed your ass.
“Don’t lie to me” Jungkook spoke through his teeth and you looked at him.
“I’m not lying, idiot” you said in the same tone as him, taking your left hand to his neck and squeezing it with your fingers, making Jungkook’s breathing become difficult. “I thought about you all the time.”
He smiled a devilish smile.
“Even riding someone else’s dick?” Jungkook said in a hoarse tone, mainly due to the compression you made with your fingers against his throat.
“Even riding someone else’s dick.” you repeated, looking into his eyes.
“You’re dirty” he said, swallowing hard.
“And you like it” you shrugged, forcing your hips down and increasing the contact and friction with his cock.
“You fucking cunt” Jungkook stared at you and you let go of his neck and slapped his cheek. Then, held his neck again, this time increasing the pressure you were applying, almost suffocating him.
“You should talk to me properly, Jungkook” you growled. “You're the one who started this shit and you're the one here crying like a baby in the middle of a party, wanting me back.”
He didn't respond, but he suppressed a smile. Because he always loved being submissive to you and was finding the whole situation very exciting. He loved it when you dominated him as much as he enjoyed dominating you.
“S-sorry” he said in a low tone of voice.
"Sorry, what?" you asked, leaving him even more breathless from the pressure.
“S-s-sorry, noona.” Jungkook said almost inaudibly, then you let go of his neck, which was left a little marked by your fingers.
“You’re such a good boy, Jungkook,” you say, leaning over him and running your tongue along the length of his neck. "I mean... not that good, right?" you mutter. 
“Y/N,” he groans, squirming slightly beneath you. 
"What?" you ask, running the tip of your nose along Jungkook’s sharp jaw. 
"My pants are so fucking tight" he says softly, his voice soft. You laugh. 
"Yeah. I hated those fucking tight pants, Jungkook" you nibble the area between his shoulder and collarbone. 
"Why?" Jungkook smiles, satisfaction evident in his bright eyes.
You look at him and roll your eyes, deciding not to respond and he lets out a dirty laugh. "Grab my dick", he asks, with a pleading look. “please”, he pouts and you stare at him for a few seconds. 
You separate your hips a little from his and unzip Jungkook's jeans and he sighs in relief. His white underwear with a transparent, circular drop near the head of Jungkook's dick, which was already leaking with pre-cum and you noticed as soon as he lowered his boxer enough for the head of his dick to come out. You licked your lips, silently crying out to suck his cock. 
Jungkook noticed, because, with his thumb, he rubbed his cockhead and smeared the tip of his finger with pre-cum, then guided the finger to your lower lip. He pressed his finger into your mouth and you sucked slowly, feeling a slight salty taste. But not much, because there wasn't a lot of it. 
You brought your hand to the base of Jungkook's dick and as soon as your fingers wrapped around it, he moaned in pleasure. His cock throbbed in your hand and you began to move your fist up and down and, changing, in spiral movements. Jungkook moaned and forced his hips against your hand, while the alcohol in your system made the movements a little sloppy. Jungkook lowered his underwear even more, squeezing his own balls while you jerked him off at a fast pace, just the way you knew he liked it.
He moaned your name in a husky tone, making you completely overflow with lust. 
You were already yearning for his cock inside your pussy, but you needed to torture him. You needed to show that Jungkook belonged to you and only you could pleasure him the way he liked. You needed to dedicate yourself. 
"I'm going to cum" he warned quietly, amidst grunts. 
"No, you won't" you said firmly and stopped moving your hand and just squeezed him. 
"No, fuck," he grunted. "Why did you stop?" Jungkook whined, looking at you frustrated. 
"Because you're only going to cum when I want you to." 
You shrugged and he frowned in disapproval. "Now you lie down," you order and he hesitates for a few seconds, but ends up giving in to your request and lying down there, on the floor of the empty treehouse.
You stand, slowly removing your panties from your body. Totally soaked. 
You throw it towards him, and he holds it in the air and rubs it against his nose, inhaling your scent and then smiling, as if your scent were the best in the world. You couldn't help but laugh softly and lift your dress, leaving your pussy exposed. Jungkook looks at you, taking his hand again to his dick, squeezing it while looking down at your pussy. 
"Can you wait?" you ask, kneeling down next to his face. 
"I don't know if I can take it" he says quietly in a grumbling tone, once again. You roll your eyes and positioning Jungkook's hands on either side of his body. 
"I'm going to sit on your face," you warn, listening to him speak disjointed words and repeated curses. You smile, leaving your thighs close to Jungkook's temples and your hips close to his mouth. 
He hurriedly holds you and makes you sit with your pussy in his mouth, which was already waiting for you, half open. He grabs your pussy, kissing it. His tongue sliding along your entire length, passing his lips over your cunt lips, making audible and clear noises with his mouth that made you moan.
You move your hips in a circle, rubbing your pussy eagerly against Jungkook's plumping mouth, who, with the tip of his tongue, slides it to your clit. He slowly moves his tongue upwards and downwards, making you press your thighs against his face. You were careful not to dump all your weight on him, but it was impossible to remain distributing the weight of your body in a rational way while his tongue worked so skillfully on you. 
The licks he gave were precise and he seemed to want every inch of his tongue to explore your folds. He applied pressure with his tongue and then, with his lips, he kissed your pussy while you rolled and moaned. 
Jungkook felt like he was in paradise, eating your pussy with such veracity that he seemed to be so fucking hungry for you. His hands grabbed your ass tightly, pressing you even more against his lips, but he didn't stop moving. At this point he was already exploring your hole, making the tip of his tongue penetrate you and collecting all your sweet juice. 
You noticed, however, when one of his hands left your body and went towards his cock, a movement reprimanded by you with a growl. He understood and slapped both sides of your ass and returned with his hand to where it was before, while he continued to pleasure you, now, holding your clit between his lips and suctioning with strong pressure because, at that moment, he already couldn't measure the strength he used or think much about the movements. Everything became spontaneous and instinctive. But you heard Jungkook moan muffled by your position on top of him. 
His thoughts were also driven by pure, almost wild instinct. You rolled your eyes with pleasure in Jungkook's mouth and, leaning on the wall of that tree house, you gained momentum to undulate your hips quickly. Your walls were clenching around nothing, non-stop, without a shred of reasoning existing in your mind. Your two hands sank into Jungkook's scalp, holding the roots of his hair and pulling the strands in total desperation. You definitely pulled out a few threads, but neither you nor he cared.
You screamed Jungkook's name, you felt your legs weaken but you continued. You needed to cum. And you came. 
Not only, but you came apart entirely on Jungkook's lips. He held you, without stopping sucking you and, due to the sensitivity, you squirmed on top of him as he grabbed your hips and thighs in an almost desperate way. And it all made even more sense when you felt a hot liquid splashing on your elbow.
Jungkook had also cum. 
Without you even touching him. Jungkook came just from eating your tight pussy. Which made you let out a satisfied laugh. He not only came untouched, but he also made you dirty and soiled his own white shirt, which was still on his body, with cum. His jeans were also spattered. His dick covered in cum, still twitching.
A hot mess. 
And, as soon as you lifted yourself from his mouth, leaving him completely limp and disoriented, you saw that his hair was completely disheveled, his mouth was wet with your juice. He smelled like you. And he tasted like you. 
You noticed as soon as you kissed his mouth. Jungkook was out of strength, but he held the back of your neck while you kissed him, running your hand across his jaw and you could taste him as he was all covered in you. 
Your breathing echoed through the house and the muffled sound of the party could be heard because neither you nor Jungkook said anything. 
Your orgasm hit you so intensely that you needed to process it. You looked at each other for a few brief seconds and then looked away. 
Would he leave again? You questioned yourself, your throat tightening. And for a moment, you were ready for it. You were ready to, once again, fail and lose the game, giving in to temptation. 
But then, Jungkook held your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You looked at him and gave a weak smile. 
“Noona” he murmured in a teasing tone and you laughed. Your moments of calm were always interrupted by lust or anger. And you knew it wasn't over. 
"What do you want?" you asked nonchalantly. He responded by patting his thighs. 
“Ride me” Jungkook asked, but you wondered now if he could last another round. He seemed completely surrendered and, from his alcohol intake, you didn't know if he would be ready. 
"Jungkook..." 
“Am I going to have to beg to fuck you?” His tone changed and he brought his hand to his mouth and spat quickly, returning his fingers to his dick and pumping it. "Do not want anymore?" Jungkook gave you a challenging look. 
"Fuck you" you replied, letting go of his hand and pulling down the pants he was wearing a little more before straddling his lap. 
"I'm trying" he replied, still with his fingers moving up and down on his cock, which was now semi-hard, faster than you imagined. 
You pushed his hand away in a none too delicate movement and continued his work, tilting your head down and looking at him intently, now angrily. He moaned and gave you a slutty smile. 
“Just like that,” he whispered, “Fuck,” Jungkook said, poking his lip piercing with his tongue. 
"Do you have a condom in your back pocket?" you questioned, remembering from earlier. Jungkook laughed. 
"What if I have?" 
“It means you fucked that girl with a condom” you said in a low tone, trying not to sound hurt by the fact that he had fucked someone else. 
"It means I keep the raw one just for you," Jungkook replied, thrusting his hips into your hand. "I hope it did the same for me."
You didn't respond, you just increased the pace with your hands and he was already hard again. You threw your hair back with a movement of your head and raised your hips, fitting Jungkook into your entrance. You lowered your hips a little, enough to be penetrated with just his head and tightened it with a contraction of the muscles of the walls of your tight pussy, making Jungkook scream. 
"Dumb bitch" he growled. 
"Don't call me dumb, you know I'm much smarter than you" you winked and he held firmly on both sides of your hips, locking your jaw and forcing you all the way onto his cock. You moaned, feeling his big dick invade you completely, until the end.
You ride his cock with dexterity, making your hips up and down just enough so that he can hit you deep, you moan and roll, bouncing on Jungkook's cock who practically howls with pleasure while you smile devilishly between moans and support both of your hands on his chest, picking up momentum. Jungkook keeps his eyes closed, unable to look at you due to the excitement flooding every cell in his body. 
The fact that you looked at him with an innocent look didn't help either because he would get very angry and thrust his hips against yours to reach you deeper. The walls of your pussy wrapped him and stretched around Jungkook's throbbing cock as he moaned and screamed your name. He grunted and, even with his short nails, he managed to mark your thigh, scratching you and lifting your dress above your navel. 
Jungkook moaned hoarsely and non-stop while you leaned your body a little over his to push yourself and move in a shorter and more effective way at a fast pace. Your ass hit his skin making audible noises that echoed. Jungkook opened his eyes to look into yours and he devoured you with his gaze, while you fucked yourself on his dick. 
Your breasts swinging inside your dress, you were death to him. When you noticed that he was looking at you, you moaned even more affectedly, and the answer was the fact that his dick was even more throbbing inside your pussy, which gave you the incentive to roll around more, while your eyes were fixed on his and you ran with your fingertips on your hard nipples beneath the silk on the dress that showed off your tits. Jungkook laughed and said hoarsely:
"You like to put on a show, hm?" the end of the sentence was marked by a long groan. 
"Only for you." 
You said and he shook his head, grabbing your breasts and you leaned back, resting on his knees and using your hips to move up and down, riding at an intense and continuous pace. 
You rubbed your pelvis against his pubic bone, stimulating your clit. You couldn’t stop moving and he couldn’t stop moaning. He bent his knees and now he put his hips into you, helping you even more. Your lips were parted as you moaned affectedly, loudly and in a little pain because the force Jungkook used to fuck you was a little too much. But you liked it. You like the pain. You like feeling his dick ripping you apart. 
"Y/N" he called with a completely broken voice. 
“Jungkook” you replied, looking at him. "Cum for me." 
"I can't take it anymore" Jungkook complained. 
"I know," you said amidst moans "Come inside my pussy, I want to be covered with your sticky cum." 
“Oooh, fuck,” Jungkook said, frowning, squirming beneath you. 
You increased your movements, moving up and down with strength and anger. Your hair was already ruined and falling into your face when you felt his liquid fill you. You smiled and didn't get up, but rather started rubbing yourself against him, with his dick still vibrating.
Your movements were fast and Jungkook looked defeated, just muttering curses and forcing you further into him. You came intensely once again, now covering his cock with your liquid. Jungkook's chest rose and fell rapidly, just like yours. 
You stood up and the separation between your pussy and his cock made a pop and you felt empty, even with his cum leaking down your leg. You sat next to him, while he pulled up just his underwear and breathed heavily. 
He leaned towards you, jutting his lips forward in a silent request for a kiss which you responded to with a laugh. And the two of you stayed there exchanging kisses and caresses for some time.
"You are my ruin," he murmured, between one kiss and another. 
"I know, you're mine too" you replied, looking at him, with your lips so close that when you said the words, your mouths touched.
"I'm covered in cum, I'm covered in your pussy. I'm..." he said, half rambling and laughed, throwing his head back. "Damn, I'm so pussy drunk." 
You laughed, looking at his lips now a deeper, more swollen shade of red. 
"I'm totally in love with you." he said at once, looking as if if he lingered any longer he would lose his nerve.
Your laughter was interrupted when your brain understood what he had just said. You looked at him, completely taken by surprise.
"What?" he asked, sitting down. "You don't..." he began, hesitantly.
"No, me too." you whispered.
"You too what?" 
“I’m totally in love with you, Jungkook” you said and he kissed you.
Your lips collided and his tongue touched yours again, deepening the kiss as you moved your head to the side to better fit. Jungkook pressed his hands to your waist and squeezed tightly, sliding his hand up your thigh. You didn't understand how it happened, but you felt your dress become loose and suddenly baggy. It was then that you noticed that the straps had come unsewn. You broke the kiss, holding your dress so it wouldn't fall off. 
“Fuck,” you muttered, thinking about how you would get out of there with the dress like that. 
Jungkook laughed, helping you hold up your dress, but taking both hands to your tits and squeezing them, underneath the fabric of the dress. 
“Stop it” you said in a fake scolding tone and he gave you a charming smile. "How are we going to get out of here?" you asked, a little worried. 
"You with a dress like that and me with my clothes full of cum" he shrugged. "It'll be funny" Jungkook smirked. 
"We're not leaving here like this," you pouted.
"Then we'll have to spend the night here," Jungkook said, pulling you close. "Together. Me and you."
You rolled your eyes, unsure if he said it seriously, but the way he hugged you made your heart almost leap out of your chest. You laid your head on his shoulder, still holding the dress, as the party echoed and the lights in the house shone. The two of you watched people having fun inside the treehouse, which, at that moment, felt like a dome where just the two of you existed.
The distant sounds of laughter and music created a cocoon around you and Jungkook. 
Jungkook's heartbeat echoed in the quietness, a steady rhythm that seemed to synchronize with yours. As you closed your eyes, the world outside faded away, leaving only the comforting embrace of the treehouse.
Jungkook held you a little tighter. "Y/N," he began, his voice soft yet determined. "I don't want this to be just a tangled mess between us. I want us to be more than just games and confusion. I want us to be official, to be together."
You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze. The sincerity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. The world outside the treehouse melted away, leaving only the two of you in that suspended moment.
"I've been foolish, playing games when what I really want is you," Jungkook confessed, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "Let's make it official, Y/N. No more games. Just us."
You stared into Jungkook's eyes, searching for any hint of deceit or hidden motives. His vulnerability was palpable, and for the first time, you saw beneath the confident facade he often wore. 
"You mean it?" you asked cautiously, the weight of the decision hanging in the air.
Jungkook nodded earnestly. "I do, Y/N. I'm tired of the games and the confusion."
"You've hurt me before, Jungkook. I don't want to go through that again."
His eyes softened, reflecting a sincerity that touched your heart. 
"I won't hurt you, Y/N. I promise. Let's be official, let's face whatever comes together."
"You really want this?" you asked, seeking affirmation.
Jungkook took a deep breath, and his response carried a quiet determination. "More than anything."
Your gaze remained locked with Jungkook's, the weight of his words sinking in. Uncertainty lingered, but the genuine earnestness in his eyes tugged at the edges of your defenses.
"Are you sure, Jungkook? This isn't just another game for you?" you questioned, your voice cautious.
He leaned in, his expression sincere. 
"I've played enough games, Y/N. This is different. I want you."
A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face, and you sensed a genuine desire for change.
"Alright," you relented, a small smile playing on your lips. "Let's make it official."
Jungkook's eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. "You won't regret this, Y/N. I promise to be better."
"I promise to be better too."
Your lips met once again, and you sighed in relief. You genuinely meant what you said. In fact, Jungkook was what you wanted the most. Perhaps, everything you've done, every move you've made, was simply because you wanted to get him back.
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Text
Like Those Old Couples - LN
Summary: Lando's girlfriend sees a post about how an old couple make the effort to match outfits every day and so she feels inspired. Lando constantly pokes fun at her but when she decides to stop trying maybe he has a different attitude.
Slightly emotionally over-sensitive!reader only towards the end
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Admittedly the first time y/n made the effort to match Lando it was by wearing an orange dress with a grey jacket. It sounds awful but there was no getting Lando's eyes off of her and when he ripped the dress off of her and left it on the bedroom floor there was no getting him off of her.
Then she continued, trying to buy him stuff that he'd like and that colour match her outfit. A couple times they had near identical outfits, and those were the moments Lando kind of melted because usually she'd steal something from his closet he had a duplicate of.
Nothing beats seeing her just wearing his clothes.
Today Lando chose a neutral outfit knowing y/n loves when he manages to pull together an outfit that fits her usual style.
"Hey, baby." Lando calls out making her appear from the bathroom putting an earring in. But what shocks Lando is her choice of a blue milk maid dress and white air forces. "Baby? I thought you wanted to match. Are we wearing blue today?"
"No. No. It's fine. I mean I know you think it's funny and allow me to go ahead. But honestly it's a lot of effort and I figure there's no point in doing it anymore if you don't care-which is fine, don't over think it. We can go back to not matching." Y/n smiles softly then sighing as she looks at him. "You do look great though."
"So do you. As always." Lando nods trying to ignore the disappointment in his chest as he watches her pick up a white bag.
"Alright, ready to go?" Y/n asks offering her hand to him and feeling his large hand capture her own. "It's a bit of a shame. Because this shade of blue would look stunning on you. It's like the blue that you have for the team."
It is, it's a really pretty blue that's not too bright but bright enough that it's so pretty. Everything about her is pretty. She makes that dress pretty, it's not the dress that makes her pretty.
Lando swallows thickly as he sees his life lasting forever with her by his side. They'll be an old couple together and they'll be together as long as it takes to end their lives as like those old couples who she admires so much.
Hiding his mood and how off he clearly feels doesn't work very well and it doesn't take long for y/n to try and address it while not being so direct.
The two of them are going on a double date with Max and P to a restaurant in London since they're back in England for just a couple days.
Lando continues to hid his disappointment since he has constantly been on y/n about it being so unnecessary that they always match. But now they don't he realises how much he looked forward to seeing how she'd manage to make them match.
F1 media and fans had actually started to closely document the couples constantly matching outfits over the past 4 months since that's how she'd managed to keep it up.
"What? What the fuck is this?" Pietra questions while Max laughs a little. "No. Don't laugh. The two of you have been matching outfits for months and you choose now to not match? Why do you hate us?"
"It was getting too much and Lando always thought it was too much. I think he might've been right." Y/n smiles before she walks ahead with Pietra and Max drops back with Lando.
"Why do you look so annoyed?" Max asks noticing his friend looking almost frustrated. "Ignore P. She just loves seeing how creative y/n could get."
"No. It's not that." Lando sighs shaking his head while Max raises an eyebrow. "Don't worry about it."
Max frowns but drops the matter. When Lando doesn't want to talk about something it's better to just let him come around to talking about it.
-
When they get back to Monaco, Lando gets himself back on Twitch.
"Lan-oh hey, stream." Y/n smiles interrupting it and realising he's live. "Sorry, I'll-"
"Some people are asking why you don't want to match anymore." Lando cuts in quickly making her frown since she didn't think it mattered that much.
"I actually kind of miss it already, but you didn't like it so I just figure no point in still forcing it." Y/n yawns as she moves up behind Lando playing with his hair while he frowns. "Anyway, I was just going to say. I'm running to the shop. Do you want me to grab anything?"
"Some snacks? Just surprise me." Lando shrugs then smiling as she hums and leans around kissing him softly before taking off. He waits till he hears the click of the door. "I miss the matching outfits too, guys. I might surprise her or something because she always sees these clips like 4 months after I've streamed."
-
As expected, y/n doesn't see the clip of Lando's stream where he says he misses the matching outfits. But after another week of no matching outfits. Lando decides to just admit it.
"Y/n, I can't do this. One of us has to change." Lando states suddenly making her jump from the sudden volume before frowning.
"Change what?"
"Clothes." Lando groans feeling nearly overwhelmed with how frustrated he feels as he shifts forward and sighs holding her waist as he looks at her directly. "Baby...I fucking loved matching with you. It was stupid, but it was the best thing of my day. Seeing you lay out something for me to wear when you wanted me to match you or seeing you find the most amazing outfits when you want to match me. I miss it. I loved it. I just want you to match me again. Please. I'll wear whatever you want."
Y/n looks stunned, completely caught off guard which tells him that she wasn't actually aiming for this outcome.
"I thought you didn't like it." Y/n murmurs suddenly near tears sending Lando into a panic, large hands cupping her face while she tries to stiffen her quivering lip.
"Baby no. No. Why would I not like it?"
"You just always sighed when I would change to match your outfit." Y/n pouts while Lando sighs knowing that on race days or race weekends he was sometimes tired or in a rush and the matching outfits were inconvenient.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it when I would sigh. It was just when I was tired and sometimes we needed to be somewhere, but I love matching with you, y/n, and I miss it."
"Why did you not tell me you liked it?"
"I didn't realise how happy it made me till you stopped." Lando admits making her sigh softly and smile at him trying to hide the pout that is in sympathy of his admission. "I love you and I love your fashion and I love when you help me dress better in a way that matches you perfectly. So can we start doing it again?"
"Yes. Since you asked so desperately." Y/n giggles before she sighs softly looking at his outfit. "I'll change. I've got something that will match with you."
Lando's sure his heart swells with joy over her statement. He just loves her so much.
The restoration of the matching outfits couldn't be kept to just them so Lando does manage to capture a selfie of their matching outfits. Announcing that the outfits are back and there to stay.
"I'm so glad that you said you want them back, because I have more ideas and more papaya outfits for when the season starts back up. I'm about to put the other WAGs to shame." Y/n beams as they walk out the apartment towards the garage that has Lando's multiple cars.
"They'll hate you." Lando jokes while y/n just grins unapologetic that she has gained a bit of a rep for being the best WAG purely for her clear adoration and support of her boyfriend along with giving constant canon shots of Lando who is always active in her comment section too.
"I won't apologise for it." Y/n shrugs innocently as he opens the McLaren door for her, though she stops before climbing in as she pushes onto her toes and kisses him softly which he can't help but smile into. "Thank you for telling me. I missed matching too and just think about how it's going to look when we show our grandkids how we matched all these years."
Now that might just scare some guys, the idea of already planning for grandkids, but Lando only loves her more for being so confident in their relationship that she'll verbally talk about it with him and not filter it in fear of scaring him.
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