Visit Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
#lines that I would tattoo on my forehead
hwiyoungies · 8 months ago
WHYYY why is this friend tattooing kanjis when she can’t even speak japanese what the fuck whY the fuck
#and she's like kanjis ooh so fun thank you for trusting me!#like dude!!!!! even if you stared at the character for long enough there's no way of knowing if you fucked up a line or not#because you don't know the language!!! and it's not just a cute accesory or a quirky thing to do!!!!#and even if you say you respect the japanese culture and language by doing this you're proving you do not!!!!#why do people love getting tattoos in languages they can't even read!!!!!#like sure i had a tattoo in german but at least i could actually understand the alpabet (also i covered it up now)#with asian languages (not just east asian but all asian languages) you can't even read what it says if you don't know it#like yeah you just did the kanji for wisdom but 1 can you even say it and 2 are you sure that's how it's done#are you fucking sure#the reason why i'm so mad about this is because she constantly preaches about respect and shit like that#she goes to the protests here she's very involved in the movement#but the moment that it's about other cultures all that speech is out of the window#and not only her but almost everyone here#and it's fucking infuriating#because if you tell them hey that's actually very disrespectful they come with the ''oh but then i can't enjoy other cultures??''#and completely miss the point you're trying to make#i called her out for wearing a bindi and she was like ooh ok i'm gonna keep putting stickers on my forehead tho#i want to call her out on this as well but i feel like i don't have the proper words to express why it's wrong#and i'm also tired and don't wanna argue lol#honestly if it was anyone else i would be like yeah fuck them#but it's the fact that it's so hypocrite of her that makes me mad#literal doble discurso y le importa un pico#b.txt#OH WAIT I FORGOT she also identifies as pan because bi is not ~inclusive enough~
2 notes · View notes
palipunk · 2 months ago
I saw your palestinian pride month art and I wanted to ask about the tattooes the women are wearing, can you explain more about palestinian tattooing? I’ve never seen it before
Oh, thank you so much for asking!
The tattoos are definitely not exclusive to Palestine, they're practiced throughout South West Asia and Northern Africa - though in South West Asia we call them Deq, I'll focus on South West Asia specifically bc while I am also Northern African I know more about Deq. Facial and Body tattooing was a common practice for many South West Asian women (and men on occasion, though usually the arms not face were tattooed for them). Fala7i (fellahin), Bedu (Bedouin), Kurdish, Assyrian and Yazidi communities have practiced it for hundreds of years. I can't verify with a source but I've heard some say it originates from ancient Mesopotamia.
Tumblr media
(left to right: Bedouin Lebanese woman, Fellahin Jordanian woman, a Kurdish woman)
A lot of the meanings behind deq have been lost but chin tattoos - specifically a line from lip to chin - were meant to symbolize fertility and beauty, Muslim and Christian women would often adorn themselves with a Crescent or Cross-shaped tattoo - sometimes after or during a pilgrimage, some tattoos were meant for protection from the evil eye, during battles, or spirits and a lot demonstrated tribal affiliation. In Egypt, Palestine, and Sudan I've noticed also lower lip tattooing.
A lot of the documentation of the tattooing readily available is from Europeans and in between pages illustrating the tattoos there are comments calling it "distasteful" "unattractive" "barbaric", which sucks. 
Tumblr media
(Yezidi woman’s tattoos in the 1930s) 
For Palestine in particular, I've done some studies in the past on tattooing amongst Palestinians, though a lot of info is hard to find due to displacement, ethnic cleansing, religious fundamentalism, and sustained repression of Palestinian culture by Isra3l. The practice is hardly seen anymore and those who still wear the tattoos are older women, my Great Grandmother in particular had dots on her forehead and lines down her chin, Bedouin and Fellahin women throughout Palestine practiced it. According to a few sources, the tattoos were done by a Dom artisan and were made out of ink, smoke residue, and sometimes breastmilk and punctured into the skin with a needle. 
Some of my studies: 
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
rmverse · a year ago
Shield || jjk
Tumblr media
⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.
A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!
Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm​ thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj
tag list: @sscarletrrose @giadalin @out-of-jams @kookoo-kachoo @teresaisla @wickizer @fakeleaves @el-mc @smol1 @luisafuchs @athenakyle @claude-y 
“I’m so sorry, Hobi,” you apologize for the nth time for the night, tone laced with an immense amount of guilt as you watch Seokjin dab the cloth to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. Hoseok rolls his eyes and looks up at you with a raised brow.
“Why are-ow,” he hisses and jerks back and Seokjin only murmurs a quick apology before pulling him forward and warning him not to move anymore. “Why are you apologizing? How is this your fault exactly?”
“Well, I mean...” Your words trail off and you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back on a table behind you.
“He’s right, __. It’s not your fault that so many guys that come here are jerks,” Seokjin chips in, leaning away from Hoseok for a second to grab the alcohol to clean the newly formed cut near his mouth.
“Still,” you sigh, shuffling over to Hoseok and placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at you gently, but winces the next second when Jin begins cleaning the cut. You sigh once again. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”
“Oh shut up, will you?” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just start going to the gym and bulk up for this shit,” he chuckles and you laugh along.
“Actually,” Jin pipes in, finally done with Hoseok and begins to tidy up, patting Hoseok’s arm as a signal that he could get up. He looks up at you. “That won’t be necessary,” he informs you with a smile. “After the last time this-” he pauses to gesture with his finger towards Hoseok, who’s inspecting the cut on his phone camera, referring to the last time Hoseok had intervened with a drunk customer who was getting too pushy with you and ended up with a similar cut on the other side of his face because the guy was just way bigger than him. “-happened, I talked to Yoongi.” Yoongi was the owner and Jin was close friends with him, and he entrusted Jin with managing the place and keep it under his supervision.
“I told that this was happening way too often and that we might need some help to keep things under control,” he stands up from his seat and Hoseok finally looks up at him inquisitively. “He told me to interview some people and bring someone to keep near the bar, watch over for you two.”
“Oh,” your eyebrows raise in interest. “I mean-”
“That’d be great, actually,” Hoseok is quick to intervene. He turns to you. “I’d be happy to take a beating any day for you, __. But my poor face can only take so much before it breaks,” he’s only half-joking, you’re sure of that.
You shake your head with a sympathetic smile and cup his cheeks gently. “I’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout before looking to Jin with a bright smile. “Thanks, Jin. We could use the help.”
Jin nods and informs you that he already has someone lined up for the job. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow so we can decide on when he would start.”
You go home that night, pout still slightly showing on your lips as you relive the events of the night. It always seemed that the creepy, perverted customers sat on your side of the bar, getting too comfortable and flirting with you through drunken slurs and winks. You could deal with the flirting, you were trained for it. You knew what kind of men walked into the bar, you simply ignored their usual attempts with a smile and poured their drinks, hoping the alcohol would soon enough inhibit their ability to speak and they would leave you alone.
But some were persistent, words much too vulgar for your liking, tone making your skin crawl, looking at you like you were a piece of meat parading around for their own viewing pleasure, some going as far as leaning over the counter and going for a grab at you. Those were the ones who caused situations like these, who caused scenes and fights and occasionally brought bruises to Hoseok’s pretty face before security could handle it.
You at least went to sleep that night slightly comforted by the fact that there would eventually be someone there to keep the situation under control from now on. You didn’t dwell on it too much, figuring he would be like the rest. The other security guys were mostly guys in their late thirties, bulked up and had intimidating faces that could put any riot down. You didn’t care much, just so long as they did their job right and allowed you to do yours right as well, without any disturbances.
Whatever you were expecting when you walked in a couple of nights later for the beginning of your shift, it was not that.
There, talking to Jin, stood a guy. A guy that was, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the most attractive person you had seen in a long time, and your job allowed you to see too many faces for your liking every single night.
He was gorgeous.
Adorned in all-black attire, as simple as it might sound, it looked entirely too appealing on him. Long, wavy, dark hair covered his forehead and brushed over his eyes slightly. Black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders, it only hid a little bit of his physique. He was quite tall, and you could quite clearly see that he was built even from where you were stood.
“Ah, __!”
Your name is suddenly being called and the stranger’s eyes are now on you at that same moment. You make eye contact right then and you suddenly feel nervous. You were like that around a lot of people, but especially attractive ones. You’re quick to plaster on a smile and make your way over to the two men, trying hard not to stare too much at the handsome stranger whose gaze is still on you.
Jin places a hand on your shoulder the second you’re at arms distance and smiles at Jungkook. “This here is Jeon Jungkook. And he’s going to be your knight in shining armor, your savior, your-”
“I get it, Seokjin,” you chuckle at Jin’s over-exaggerated introduction and look to Jungkook with a polite smile. Based on Jin’s little show and the events that had occurred earlier this week in this very room, you can honestly guess that this would be the new security guy that Seokjin had informed you would be starting very soon.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” you stretch you arm out for a greeting and he takes it in his for a gentle handshake, allowing you to catch a glimpse of tattoos adorning his fist, traveling up his arm where his jacket sleeve rides up slightly with the movement.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles, a very charming smile at that, and you find yourself shaking his hand for too long to be considered normal before dropping your hand quickly with a chuckle, to which he continues to look at you with a curious look in his eyes.
God, he was cute.
“So, um,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet. “When do you start?”
“Tonight,” he immediately answers, stuffing both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Hyung told me that you needed a hand around here and honestly,” he pauses with a chuckle. “I could use the pay.”
“Hobi will be thrilled to have you here tonight,” you half-joke and Jin laughs.
“She means Hoseok,” Jin tells Jungkook and Jungkook nods. “He’s supposed to come around in a bit. Poor guy always takes beatings for our pretty princess here-”
“Hey,” you whine when Jin lifts a hand to ruffle your hair. You push it away with a huff, sensing heat traveling to your cheeks due to being the center of attention at the moment, and it only deepens when you look to Jungkook and he seems to be staring at you, seemingly studying you as you stand there. It goes on for a moment and you can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him because you seem to be blushing way too much for a simple first encounter with this guy and look to Jin, who’s staring on amusedly.
Saved by the sound of footsteps coming from behind before a loud greeting fills the room, Hoseok finally making his entrance with a bag swung over his shoulder, strutting over with a pretty smile and a healing cut on his cheek.
“Hello, princess,” Hoseok greets you and swings an arm around your shoulder. There goes that nickname again. Your eyes unintentionally flit up to Jungkook’s and his appear to be glued to Hoseok’s arm placed so casually on your shoulder, and the way you comfortably lean into him.
“Hey,” he directs his speech towards Jungkook with a polite smile, before looking questioningly towards Jin, awaiting a response.
“Jungkook, this is Hoseok,” Jin begins. Hoseok then releases your shoulder from his hold and half leans towards Jungkook with an outstretched arm as Jin continues. “He’ll be working with __. These are the only two pretty faces that you need to worry about, everything else is covered.”
“Oh?” Hoseok pauses with Jungkook’s hand still in his and turns to you with a shocked look, which then morphs into one of relief and happiness. “Oh, you’re Jungkook? Ah, welcome aboard,” Hoseok’s tone is excited and you hold back a chuckle as Jungkook just chuckles and murmurs a couple of  quiet ‘thanks’.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hobi continues and leans back once again, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “But, um, I didn’t expect you to be this young.”
“He’s not that young,” Jin quickly interjects, shrugging. "He’s about __’s age I think,” Jin guesses and you both look at each other at the same time with hints of smiles at your lips.
“Plus,” Jin continues and places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder with a proud smile gracing his lips, resembling a proud father for some reason. “Our Jungkook here has a black belt in Taekwondo!”
Both yours and Hoseok’s gazes fixate on Jungkook, more impressed than anything and for a moment, his confidence seems to falter and he looks at the ground for a second with a shy smile and shifts his feet, adorned in large combat boots that add onto the irony of this tall man acting coy when being praised.
“So not only will he kick anyone’s ass,” Jin jokes. “It’ll be extra fun to watch.”
During the first week of Jungkook working here, you gather a bit of knowledge about him.
You learn that he takes his job seriously. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had kind of sensed that it would be that way since you first met him, and he only proved you right when his first shift arrived and you don’t think you saw his lips twitch up into a smile even once that night. The night passed without a glitch, his eyes gazing over every single drunk body that sat by the bar, or even just simply passed by. 
The following few nights went pretty much the same, albeit a bit slower since it wasn’t terribly busy during weekdays and you had some rare moments to breathe. You couldn’t help it; staring at him. He was just new and you were getting your eyes acquainted with the new handsome guy who happened to be the new security guard who stood in his spot not too far away, adjacent to one of the walls. Hands clasped in front of him, face devoid of any emotion, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the area.
It went like that for the first week, strictly work, not much interactions but friendly smiles when arriving for work and perhaps exchanging a couple of words before Hoseok would come join you two.
“So,” Seulgi, one of the servers and someone you would consider to be your friend her besides Hoseok, says as she leans against her now closed locker while you put your things away in yours before your shift starts. “New guy’s pretty good, huh?”
“I mean,” you tilt your head a little in thought. “Nothing’s really happened since he started-”
“I meant hot, new guy’s pretty hot,” she starts before you start getting into boring detail about analyzing how he does his job and you immediately chuckle.
“Thought you were hung up on Hoseok?” You tease as you shut your locker and turn to her with a smile and she immediately blushes before scoffing at you.
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” she retorts. “Besides, nothing’s happened so far probably because they’re all too busy ogling the new hot security guard, all genders included.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a sigh as you begin to make your way out with her trailing beside you. “He is pretty cute.”
Cute was an understatement. He was mesmerizing. You thought seeing him everyday for two weeks would’ve had you accustomed to his face by now but, again, it’s been two weeks and you still stumble over your words when you manage to bump into him as you step out of the locker room with Seulgi right behind you.
“Shit, sorry. Oh-” Your eyes lock with his and he’s just so close. When have you ever stuttered before? “I-I...Sorry, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” his tone is soft and he says it with a smile as he politely steps aside and allows you and your friend to pass by before he begins making his way to the back as well, and you really couldn’t help yourself from looking back at his retreating form down the hall.
“Oh, okay,” Seulgi says in an understanding tone. “I see what it is.”
“You see nothing,” you deadpan and turn to her with a bored glare. “You just stick to trying to get into Hobi’s pants and worry about your own problems-”
“Hey, how dare you- wait! Come back here right now!”
The following week takes a different turn with a switch of events.
Hoseok is usually the one in charge of locking up. After everyone clears out, it’s only you and him that stay till the very last moment as you help each other reorganize drinks back into their places and clean up for what feels like the thousandth time that night.
However, he comes to you before the beginning of your shift in the hallway with a pleading look on his face.
“It’s only for this week, I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t have to but Namjoon wants us to work on the mixtape so we can have it done by next week and leaving early can buy me an extra hour or two and-”
You cut his rambling off with a chuckle and bring your palms up to pinch at his cheeks, intentionally squeezing firmly.
“On one condition,” you raise your eyebrows and Hoseok already knows that you’ve agreed even if he doesn’t agree to your ‘condition’.
“You let me hear it as soon as it’s done,” you say, very seriously and Hoseok relaxes in your hold before pulling you into a hug.
“Thank you-”
“Oh, sorry.”
You hear a familiar voice once you’re fully enveloped in Hoseok’s arms and you don’t know why you pull away so hastily because nothing was even happening, but you look at Jungkook who stands there like he’s walked in on something that was going on.
“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your lips and you’re beginning to grow accustomed to it. And you like how it sounds coming from you, you’re beginning to realize. You smile awkwardly at him. “We were just...” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, and not really understanding why you were currently trying to explain to the guy who was, so far, nothing but a coworker of yours.
“Ah, it’s fine,” he excuses himself with a smile an says something about wanting to go out back before they were open because he wanted some fresh air. Hoseok shrugs and pats your shoulder and tells you that he needed to speak with Jin about something that you don’t quite focus on because you’re busy watching Jungkook walking away.
The night goes by rather fast, quick work, all smooth sailing so far.
Until he walks in.
Im Jaebum.
He visited quite frequently, every month or so, he would come either by himself or with a friend of his. He hasn’t done anything particularly bad, usually very tame and relaxed in comparison to other drunkards around here, but you knew from people who knew him that he wasn’t a very decent guy. And if that wasn’t anything to go buy, you didn’t feel very comfortable with the way he looked at you or the way he, at times, would lean slightly over the counter and brush a finger over your hand or wrist while he attempted to flirt you up.
You were usually very professional and ignored his attempts because, sadly, he was loaded (all scumbags are) and you weren’t going to deprive yourself of any tips. When you felt he was going too far, you would send Hoseok over to take over his side of the bar and tell him that he was being extra creepy tonight, and Hoseok would nod without hesitation.
Tonight didn’t seem to be looking too good the second you spotted Im Jaebum and not only one, not two, but three other guys who you only assumed to be his close friends with the way they all were laughing loudly together.
You huff and look to Hoseok with a gaze that said you were already done before they even got here, but quickly replace it with a smile as soon as they stand by your side of the bar and you splay both palms against the counter and direct your attention towards them.
“What can I get you tonight?”
You can’t really see it since you haven’t looked his way much this past night, but Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. Well, not really just you, more so the group of loud, rambunctious men who just piled in a couple of minutes ago and are centered around you. He watches closely, gaze hardening with every passing second because Jungkook knew, he just knew when something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right how, as his eyes laser focused on all four mean, their eyes seemed to be taking in every little move you made. His eyes flicker over to you and, from his past two weeks of working here and watching you (as discreetly as possible), he now knew how it looked like when you were uncomfortable. Eyes not lifting up once from the counter, lips rubbing together tightly and teeth occasionally pulling and gnawing at your bottom lip, smile not as wide as it usually is when you slide the drinks over to them.
Jungkook is a very attentive man, but that trait seems to have doubled when he started working here - started working with you.
He knew it was coming. Any second now. He could hear their loud laughter and the shameless comments he could catch every now and then when the music was low enough and he strained his hearing hard enough to make sense of them. His blood boiled. He just wanted you to look once his way, only once, and tell him to move. Do something. But you don’t. You continue to work and serve them round after round.
And so he takes it upon himself to take action when one of them reaches across the bar and grips your wrist when you place another drink in front of him. You freeze because he’s leaning forward to whisper something to you, something you know is not going to be in the least bit appropriate and is going to make you want to throw up whatever lunch you had this day. However, he doesn’t get close enough because someone is gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, and all the air that had been caught in your throat at his revolting touch is released in a gasp as you watch none other than Jungkook, face as stoic as ever, pull the smaller man up and off his bar stool.
“Excuse me, sir,” he speaks in a stern voice that you’re hearing for the first time since you met him, an incredible contrast to the soft and gentle tone he usually utters his words around you and everyone else around here.
“Please stay seated behind the bar,” he states. “And hands to yourself.”
You look at Jungkook and, despite maintaining a professional act and keeping his face neutral, his jaw is clenched tight and his nostrils are flaring. The men seem entirely too careless to that fact and they only bust out into laughter, seeming to think they own the place and that this mere inconvenience shouldn’t be enough to deter their fun for the night. One of them even pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he laughs and Jungkook’s tongue is pushing against his cheek, an angry tick of his.
“Ah, it’s all good,” Jaebum now replies with a smile that you can only describe as sleazy. “We’re all friends here, __ knows that. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”
“Yeah, buddy. Run along now, kid,” another man adds.
It happens all at once. Jaebum is once again leaning across the counter in an attempt to get close to you, while one of his friends reaches for Jungkook’s back in an attempt to lead him away from their group. That’s when Jungkook feels it serves right to touch at least one of them, and he chooses the closest target - the one with a hand on his back. Within seconds, Jungkook is stood behind the guy and he’s yelping out in pain as Jungkook twists his arm into position between his shoulder blades.
A fuss was starting to happen and you and Hoseok watched, a couple of bystanders watching as well. Jungkook’s stare pointed towards Jaebum.
“I suggest you leave here or I’ll escort you out myself, sir,” he says, and when Jaebum hesitates only for a second, Jungkook tightens his hold on the guy’s arm and twists it further and the guy grunts out a curse.
“Jesus fuck man, let’s just leave,” one of his other friends groans out, seemingly bored with all the action. “’s not like she’s worth it that much anyways.”
You hear that, and you know Jungkook does because the man he holds groans out in pain before he shoves him towards the door before turning to the rest with an expectant look. After all, Jin did give him permission to kick out anyone who he felt was gonna start up any fuss. Jin wasn’t all that about keep the loaded ones happy and keep your mouth shut type of policy; the place was already doing pretty well on its own, Jin would constantly assure as Yoongi would in turn assure him.
The group is kicked out and everything is back to normal. Hoseok is taking orders, crowd dispersing, drinks are being served and no one is so much as looking your way. All except for one person.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He’s leaning over the counter and speaking loudly so that you can hear him clearly. Despite this occurring many times in your line of work, and despite you constantly assuring yourself that you were used to it, you knew that you were lying to yourself and that there was always this small fear inside of you at the fact that it could happen again, and it left you a bit shaken up every time.
“Yeah,” you quickly nod in reply and shoot him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He insists. There’s a look in his eyes. This was his job after all, though you didn’t expect him to be this concerned for your safety. You thought it was just about the general atmosphere and keeping assholes under control. But the way he was looking at you right now told you differently, large doe eyes watching you expectantly for any sign that you’re not feeling well.
Your heart stutters and you gulp.
“I’m okay,” you assure him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
He only nods at you with a smile and slips away, between the crowd and back at his post where he stands against the wall as before. You continue to look, even as he catches you staring and holds your gaze for a second before shooting you a small smile. You barely catch it, dim lighting and all, but it’s the first of many that you receive from him.
That night, Jungkook stalls. He keeps stalling and stalling, waiting until he knows no one is left but you and Hoseok. He knows that the two of you are usually the last to leave for the night and he’s in the locker room getting his bag, waiting for the right moment just to make sure and feel at ease for the night. 
You and Hoseok are together, he thinks. With the way he’s so incredibly affectionate with you, constantly touching you and hugging you, so playful and comfortable with you. And then tonight, when he saw you two together in the hallway. Sure, you were just hugging, but it could imply that you two might have something going on. 
But what irked Jungkook the most was that Hoseok had made no move to intervene tonight with everything that was happening. Sure, Jungkook had it all under control, and sure it was technically Jungkook’s job to deal with it, but still. He couldn’t imagine himself being on the other side of the bar, standing there with you, and not jumping into action the second you almost dropped one of the drinks because of how uncomfortable you felt with those guys harassing you. You were always so composed, steady hands mixing drinks and handling glasses like they were mere feathers between your fingertips, but it only got slipper and messy when your head wasn’t in the right place. And Jungkook knew that because he watched.
Attentive, he was.
So yes, he waited and waited, and when he walked back out to see you all alone, ready to head back and get your things to call it a night, he’s relieved he stayed back because god - he doesn’t want you going back home alone this late at night. And he knows you don’t go by car because he always sees you walking in, so it’s either the bus or a lonely walk him, and his heart didn’t sit right with either of those.
“Oh, hey,” you greet him when you cross paths. You weren’t expecting him to still be here. Hoseok had long departed and you were behind the bar, cleaning up by yourself for the first time for the rest of the week. “I didn’t know anyone was still here.”
“Yeah, uh,” he stumbles for a moment. “Still here.” He doesn’t bother explaining, his mind can’t seem to conjure up any lies this late at night.
The place is quiet, such a contrast to how it usually is. No music, no drunker chatter, no glasses clinking - the silence was nice and despite the usual party atmosphere this place held, the silence somehow morphed it into a cozy one. Similar to Jungkook now stood in front of you, a complete and polar opposite to the sight you had witnessed merely hours ago. Long gone was the stoic stare and the harsh eyes, replaced with an innocent gaze and the hint of a smile as he stuck his hands in the pocket of his jacket. How he managed to switch and maintain both personas was beyond you.
“Are you going home alone?” He asks after a beat of silence, only realizing that that might have sounded just slightly wrong after he said it. “I mean, it’s really late...” He trails off while explaining, looking at you expectantly.
This is a first for you. It’s the first time that you’re chatting privately with Jungkook, absolutely no one around with nothing to distract you from your usual thoughts.
Tonight really did nothing to help with those thoughts, on the contrary, it only heightened them to the highest of extents. You already knew you were attracted to Jungkook, any person with a pair of eyes could see why that was apparent. But the way he acted tonight, the way he looked into your eyes, as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if willing to do anything to erase those signs. The way he kept looking over at you, checking, sending smiles your way, somehow reassuring you of his presence - that he was there and that there was nothing to worry about.
And now, standing in front of you with that same look. Concern, worry, he wants your safety. He stayed behind to make sure of that. And that does things to your heart, and to your stomach because in the next second, you feel it flood to the hilt with colorful butterflies. It’s almost nauseating how you feel yourself simultaneously slowly and quickly gravitating towards him, towards the safety and warm that he seems to radiate just by standing there.
You snap out of it.
“Yeah,” you confirm. Your voice is low though, so you clear your throat and look up at him with an assuring smile and try again. “Yeah. I usually leave right on time for the last bus but since I’m closing up tonight, I’m gonna have to walk.”
“I can drive you, if you’d like?” He wastes no time to offer.
“No, really, it’s okay,” you wave it off with a nervous chuckle. “I walk home all the time, it’s no-”
“No, please,” he insists. “I can’t have you walking back home this late at night.”
It didn’t really take much more convincing than that, not like you could’ve argued at all when you could practically feel yourself melting at this short interaction that was taking place, an interaction that you had kinda been hoping for to happen and just now realized how much you wanted it to take place.
So he drives you home and the ride was quiet, not too awkward, but there wasn’t much talking anyways. He resorts to the next best thing and turns on some music to fix it, which you gladly appreciate because you relax into the passenger seat and allow yourself to enjoy the soft tunes after a long night of intense, blaring music that was drilled into your ears.
That was the first night of the week, and you expected it to be the last. However, you are oh so pleasantly surprised when the next day, Jungkook passes by you and Seulgi and greets you with more enthusiasm than usual, as opposed to the small head nod and shy smile he would usually direct towards the both of you.
“Hey, __.”
To which you shyly reply and turn to your friend with a slow puff of air that has her snickering at you.
That night he shows up in front of you the same way he did the night before, not really bothering to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was still here so late for the second time in a row. You’re wiping down the counter when you notice him standing there, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, still here?” You ask once again.
“Yeah,” he shrugs. The thud of his boots is distinct in all the quiet as he steps closer to where you stand. “Are you nearly done?”
The way he asks it sends a shiver down your spine because he spoke it so casually, as if waiting for you to finish up so he can take you home was something he normally did. But you keep your back to him in hopes of him not witnessing your cheeks warming up and bite down a smile.
“Yeah, just a couple of minutes so I can grab my things.”
He waits for you near his car, where he usually parks, leaning against the door with a coy smile on his lips. His heart is racing and he stares at the entrance door excitedly, waiting for your figure to show up. Though something in the back of his mind plagues his thoughts since last night and he really couldn’t wait to figure it out. And when he finally figures out how to ask the question, he blurts it out.
“So, um, do you and Hoseok not usually leave together?”
His question is strange. It’s worded strangely and it’s very much out of nowhere. Your brows furrow in confusion.
“No, not really,” you answer slowly but surely, voice clear over the low hum of the engine. There still wasn’t any music in the car seeing as how you’d just taken off. “I usually leave much earlier than him, but he has this thing this week, so I’m kind of in charge of staying last.” 
You glance quickly at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are slightly pursed. You don’t know what exactly he’s trying to analyze about your answer-
“I just assumed he would wait for you to finish,” he spoke his words slowly. “You know, so you could leave together.”
You turn to him with a baffled expression, still not comprehending why he would come to that analysis in the first place.
“You know,” he pauses to clear his throat. His grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car slows down as he takes a left turn. “Since you two are, um, together and all...”
His voice gets slightly lower towards the end of the sentence and you catch his eyes flicker over to your side of the car for a quick second to check for your reaction before they once again fixate on the road. His words finally register in your head and realization dawns on your and a million thoughts race through your head.
“Oh,” you let out a sound of understanding before your eyes widen and you’re hastily shaking your head. “Oh, no. No no,” you chuckle nervously. You don’t comprehend how many times you repeat the word no before you finally pause. “We’re not together. Hobi and I are just friends. We’re very close and all that, but there’s nothing like that. At all.”
You can’t help yourself from stressing over that fact, wanting to make it very clear that there was nothing between you and Hoseok. When you sneak a peak towards him, you can the see obvious traces of a smile threatening to break out but he’s biting at his inner cheeks and his lips to hide it, tattooed fingers now drumming against the steering wheel in what looks to you as a happy manner.
“Oh, okay,” he confirms with a nod of his head. “Cool. That’s good.”
He doesn’t realize he added that last part, it just slipped out. God, it felt like he could throw himself out of the car at that exact second if it weren’t for the sound of your shy giggle reaching his ears and elating his entire being. That’s when he allows himself to properly smile and chuckle himself before reaching over and turning on some music, the rest of the ride spent in comfortable silence for that night.
The following day Jungkook comes up to you before your shift and leans against the wall as he casually chats you up, something that hadn’t happened since he first started working here about a month ago. But you indulge him and try not to focus too much on how he seems to drift closer, standing closer to you, looming over your space. His eyes twinkle even in the dim lighting around you. You notice all his details. His smile was to die for. Eyes crinkling up, cheeks forming into a round shape that almost completely erased the usual defined shape of his face, always so sharp and clean cut. 
Later that night you find out what his laugh sounds like in the warmth of his car on the ride home, right after you tell him about that one time Hoseok had been teasing you all night about some old guy that never once parted from the bar, Hoseok designating him by the name of your ‘sugar daddy’. Until it was revealed later that night through a white napkin that was left behind by the man himself, a series of numbers scribbled on it, for the ‘cute boy who serves the best drinks in town ;)’.
He laughed loudly and you immediately took the chance to look, his nose scrunching up and his head thrown back, thankfully at a stop sign. It sounds to boisterous, like music to your ears, making you feel at complete ease as your lips curl up into a smile as well.
You once again mentally compare the image of him in the dim lighting of the bar; chest puffed out, arms crossed, scowl plastered on his face. Tattoos inked into his knuckles and forearms. Long earrings dangling from his ears. Everything suited him so well, with the way his long hair cascaded down his eyes and completed that strong and mysterious vibe he carried with him when he was so focused on doing his job right, not letting his guard down unless your eyes met his. That’s when he would falter for a mere second and he would send a tiny smile your way that had you blushing and turning the other way in a haste.
But the guy sat next to you in his car right now, laughing childishly and humming along to a song he had picked out, was so different. But you liked both sides. 
You liked both sides a lot.
You call Jin one morning with a sore throat, coughing and sneezing, unable to speak a few proper words without feeling like the scratch in your throat would bring you to your death. You inform him that you won’t be able to come in and he assures you that it’s fine and tells you to rest well, drink lots of water and lots of warm tea.
That night, up in your bed, unable to sleep because you can never usually sleep when you get sick, your phone vibrates and the sound of a text arriving brings you to tear your eyes away from your laptop. You’d decided you might as well re-watch the first season of Supernatural.
From: Unknown hey, it’s jungkook :) hope you don’t mind me getting your number from hoseok  [2:13 am]
You spring up from your lying position, and despite the pain and body ache that takes over, a familiar feeling of butterflies once again swarms your tummy and it’s the first nice feeling that you’ve experiences all day/
From: Jungkook ik it’s late and you’re probably asleep but i hope you’re taking care of yourself  [2:13 am]
You nibble on your bottom lip before deciding: to hell with dignity. You open the message only a few seconds later. He was typing, but the three bubbles disappear and you assume it’s because he saw that you had just opened his text when he wasn’t expecting for you to do that so late.
To: Jungkook hi jungkook, thanks for checking up on me :) just a bit tired is all [2:15 am]
From: Jungkook you’re still up ?? are you not feeling well?? [2:15 am]
The text comes nearly seconds after you send yours and you can’t help the smile the takes over your face. You feel stupid smiling at your phone like this but god he’s so sweet it’s killing you.
To: Jungkook a bit restless’s okay. couldn’t buy medicine today so i’ll get some tomorrow and that’ll help me sleep a bit [2:!5 am]
This time he reads your message and waits. You stare at your phone, confused as you watch bubbles disappear and reappear on your phone screen. It’s exactly two minutes before you finally receive one.
From: Jungkook i can drop some off tomorrow at your place [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook if you’re comfortable with that [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook i can leave it at your door and you can just take it when you want [2:17 am]
You’re staring at your phone, shell-shocked, unable to fathom the words that you were reading. They came one after the other, and you could almost imagine him stuttering and spitting out phrases to make you more comfortable with the idea, like he did that first night when he offered to drive you home.
You take a deep breath and type out your response.
To: Jungkook you’d do that? [2:18 am]
His reply is immediate.
From: Jungkook of course [2:18 am]
The following morning, there’s a bag at your doorstep. Medicine, and several tupperwares filled with food. Your heart is melting, your head feels light with all the emotions you’re experiencing as you bring the bag inside, taking notice of a note that’s placed inside the bag.
these are jin-hyung’s recipe so i think they should be good if i followed all the steps right. enjoy and feel better :)
His handwriting suits him, you think. It’s cute.
The next time you see Jungkook, you surprise him, yourself, and Hoseok who happens to be a witness of the hug you envelope him in. It took a lot of pep-talk on your way here, but you managed to psyche yourself up just enough for you to actually go through with it. And, even more surprisingly, he’s only shocked for a moment before he willingly accepts your hug.
“Thanks for the medicine, Jungkook,” you pull away. You’re aware your face is extremely pink and that your voice is slightly shaky and you’re almost one hundred percent sure he could see your heart pumping through your chest, but you don’t really care because his cheeks are pink as well. “And for the food.”
“It was nothing,” he brushes it off with a timid chuckle as you step back and glance at Hoseok who’s trying very hard not to leave his jaw hanging on the floor. “You feel better now though, right?” He makes sure, in the same tone that now sounds familiar to you, laced with slight worry.
“Much,” you nod your head with a smile and his grin is back, bright as ever, full teeth on show.
“That’s all that matters then.”
You’re not responsible for closing up anymore and Hoseok shared his mixtape with you the day that it was finished.
Though you were free to leave earlier once again and could easily catch the bus back home, supposedly going back to your old routine, you step out and are caught by surprise when Jungkook is stood there, leaning on the wall adjacent to the entrance. 
He practically beams at you the moment he sees you and pushes himself off the wall as he shuffles over to you, boots scuffing over the pavement. He practically struts over and he looks like a god damn model with the way the wind ruffles his hair back, tight black turtleneck hugging his figure cozily but hidden due to the large jacket he had thrown on.
“You know I can just take the bus home again, right?” You tease with a smile but you begin to walk beside him nonetheless, making your way to his car. He nudges you with his elbow as you walk and look ahead.
“Just appreciate what I do for you,” he retorts.
The level of comfort and ease in which you both now chat and joke together has magnified over these past weeks, and you find yourself giggling shyly as he opens the passenger door for you to climb in. 
The ride is spent chatting as usual, you and Jungkook exchanging stories about drunkards and incidents occurring throughout the night. He wins tonight’s round with his story about the couple who kept trying to hit on this one guy, assuming they were trying to convince him to go home with them, until the guy’s girlfriend showed up and cursed the two out. You can’t imagine how he could’ve managed to keep a straight face with all of that unfolding in front of him.
You thank him for the ride, bid him farewell and he watches as you make your way up your apartment building, both of you smiling like idiots. Jungkook takes a second to collect himself, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel with a slow exhale of his breath before restarting the engine and driving away.
A week later. A full week of late nights driving you home, texting almost everyday, exchanging brief yet playful conversations at work, you practically feel like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who gets to see her cute crush almost everyday. You feel giddy and happy. You’re more active at work and you serve with a smile because you somehow always seem to eventually direct it towards the tall security guard who’s standing relatively near, eyes flickering towards you to throw you a quick wink that has Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows at you without Jungkook noticing.
One late night he parks his car by your apartment building and shuts off the engine, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. You unbuckle your seat belt but remain seated, not making any move to step out of the car just yet.
His fingers, as they usually do, are drumming against the steering wheel, and for a few seconds, that’s the only sound that resonates within the silence.
“So,” he begins. He starts a lot of sentences like that, you notice, but keep that to yourself and just stare at him expectantly. “Tomorrow’s off for you, right?”
“Yes,” you sigh in relief at the thought of not having to deal with people yelling different names of drinks your way. “Thank god for that.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. He looks at you for a second and when he sees you looking he looks to the front once again, pursing his lips. “Anything planned?”
“Not really,” you answer with a shrug and continue to look at because you can sense where he was trying to go with this.
“Great, that’s...” He trails off. He huffs, annoyed with himself before he turns to you with pretty, charming eyes and a look that had you shifting in your seat with its intensity. “I can take the day off, too.”
It’s a statement but it sounded like a question all at the same time.
“And-” One hand leaves the steering wheel to ruffle his hair, pushing some strands back and behind his ear. “We can do something. Together.”
“Like a date,” he continues before you could say it, smiling hopefully at you, hoping that he never read any signs wrong. But he didn’t. He couldn’t have because you beam at him in the next second and he grins back, nose scrunch and all.
“I’d love that, Guk.”
Wow, that was the first time you called him anything but his full name and the shorter term never sounded better to his ears. You look so pretty to him. All cooped up in his car, smiling at him so sweetly and fingers twiddling shyly on your lap, eyes awaiting for his next words. You just look so sweet, so innocent in that moment, so captivating that he can’t help but just lean forward across the console and-
“Shit-” Just as he witnesses your eyes beginning to flutter shut once you realize what his intentions were, almost there, so close he was beginning to taste it, he felt himself being tugged back.
Of course he didn’t take his fucking seat-belt off.
A moment of silence is heard before you both start laughing hysterically at the ridiculous situation.
After you two are done, you maneuver freely and lean over to his side since you had bothered to take your seat-belt off and place a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, just shy from it being an actual kiss. Your allow your lips to linger for a second before pulling away, and you could swear he leaned forward just a bit as you did.
“Text me and we’ll pick a time for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest as you open the passenger seat door. He licks his lips, having been so willing to kiss you at this moment, but he smiles and nods.
“Goodnight, __.”
He looks breathtaking to say the least and you more than appreciate the idea of witnessing him under the sunlight for the first time in months. He’s wearing an over-sized grey sweater, loose black jeans and the signature boots. He looks like a god, leaning back on his hands on the plaid blanket he’d packed with him. 
He nearly loses his breath when he first sees you. God, he knew you were gorgeous but the way you walked over to his car with an almost angelic smile gracing your features - how was he supposed to just not kiss you the second you were in his care? You usually wore jeans to work, but this. Where you trying to torture him? A skirt? 
He takes you on a picnic because, as he claims, I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other in proper sunlight before and I’ve been here for what - two or three months?
He and Jin go way back, he tells you after you find out that the meals and sandwiches he’d prepared had also been advised by Jin. He tells you that he was a family friend and that their parents knew each other very well. Jungkook’s parents didn’t live here, they lived abroad, and Jin’s parents were always after Jin to keep an eye on Jungkook and look after him.
And look after him he did. He introduced him to most his friends; Taehyung, Jimin and even Yoongi. He recommended him for a job at Taehyung’s tattoo shop since Jungkook was such a talented artist and he was responsible for the many designs displayed in Taehyung’s shop. He helped him find a place cheap and comfortable enough to live in. He’s encouraging him to let Taehyung teach him how to tattoo so he can make more money and maybe open up a place on his own. And he recommended him to Yoongi when they were talking about needing someone new around, highly praising him in front of his friend even though Yoongi already knew Jungkook personally.
He told you about it all and you listened carefully, taking it all in, watching the way he fiddled with the dangly piece of jewelry hanging from his ear as he spoke about all his friends, all of them older than him and how they shaped him into the man he is today. His experiences with them. Everything.
“Sorry,” he chuckles bashfully as he picks up a cherry and pops it into his mouth. He looks at you. “I was talking too much.”
“What? No,” you insist. You unconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket and your hand lands on the blanket right next to his as you lean on your side slightly. “I like listening.”
“I’m not much of a talker with new people,” he explains while looking at you. “I haven’t talked to anyone like this in a long time, actually,” he continues. He says that as soon as you feel a hand covering your own, fingers fiddling with yours.
You both look down at your hands and you feel your heart do flips when you flip your palm up beneath his and he intertwines your fingers with his.
“That was really cute,” you blurt out for some reason. Your cheeks are incredibly warm and pink, and so are the tips of your ears, but you can at least blame it on the sun this time, though you doubt that’s how he would analyze it.
You giggle, he chuckles. You both shift closer and closer until his nose is grazing yours. He tilts his head forward just a little and you can feel his lips graze yours. Your thoughts are clouded as you feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded, and he holds eye contact so intense it’s almost too much for you to handle. You gulp heavily.
It’s the way you whisper his name that finally brings him to cover your lips with his, mouth gently coaxing yours to move along with his. He kisses you sensually, something you don’t expect from your first kiss, you expect him to be more careful and reserved, but you’re not complaining as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and lifts a hand to your hair.
He kisses your breath away, mouth moving in a perfect pace, lips pecking yours gently several times before diving in for a deep kiss once again. His nose nudges yours, warmth washing over you as his fingers grip your hair very gently to bring you closer.
You hum in between kisses and he can’t help it. He can’t help but push closer. Your lips tasted heavenly, so sweet, so delicious, so addicting. He wanted more. He licks your lips and you willingly let him in. Tongue licking into your mouth, he increases pressure until you begin to lean back further and further until you’re lying flat against the blanket. Your lips part for a few seconds and Jungkook looks down at you, watches you breathe slightly heavily, hair splayed out beneath you, lips swollen with his kiss. He has half a mind to quickly check your surroundings, thankful that he’d picked a secluded spot behind a large tree, before he plants his mouth on yours once again.
He doesn’t put his weight on top of you and instead leans on one elbow placed strategically near your head, caging you in, leaning over you as he steals endless kisses from your already breathless mouth. His hand, inked with black tattoos, trails down your arm, fingertips subtly brushing over your skin and bringing goosebumps to its surface. It travels down until he reaches your hand that he takes in his larger one, bringing it up to pin it down next to your head, fingers intertwining with yours once again.
You hum into the kiss once again, basking in the way he feels around you. Almost completely covering you with his body, presence looming over yours and hiding you from the world. It feels nice and comforting and hot and sexy all at once. Your other hand itches to move, free from confinement, and you bring it up to his chest, solid yet pliant. Your fingers curl into a grip and you pull him closer to kiss you harder. God, you’ve never felt so much from just a single kiss.
“Mmm-__-” he mumbles in between heavy kisses. His usually mellow voice is deeper now, laced with desire that you’re just now witnessing for the first time. “Mhmph-baby...” He mutters for the second time, unable to hold himself back from biting into your pouty bottom lip when he felt your hand grip his hair for the first time.
The sound of kids, not too close yet not too far away suddenly brings you to your senses as your lips begin to slow down their pace, little by little until his mouth is barely just resting over yours, warm breaths continuing to mix together.
Your eyes peel open to find his already staring at you, studying your face up close for a couple of seconds. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl strands of hair around and around, his thumb strokes your hand that he still grips firmly before you both break out into smiles at how this had transpired. He tenderly pecks your lips twice before sitting up slightly, and you follow along, looking around to see if there was anyone too close nearby, relieved to see only three kids significantly far away from your spot.
You talk more. This time he listens while you speak. You spill all your details from dropping out of college because of too much pressure, too many past-due tuition fees, and not enough control over your life. He listens carefully all the while he appreciates your presence near him for the first time. He scoots closer as you talk about how hard that last year was for you, scoops your hand into his larger one as you rant about how Hoseok had been incredibly supportive in all the time you’ve known him. He plays with your hair and gently leans forward to kiss the top of your head when you tell him about not having a place to stay for a while, and Hoseok had so kindly offered his place for you. You talk and talk and he listens just as you did for him, getting gradually closer to you until he had you wrapped up in his arms once again, lying on the blanket and chatting quietly amongst yourselves, in your own little world.
Hoseok immediately takes notice because you just happen to be stepping out of Jungkook’s car for work after he had offered that he would drive you. As soon as he sees the two of you, his eyes light up as he saunters over with a bright smile.
“Ah, Jungkookie,” he nudges you and you only blush and roll your eyes at him, looking to Jungkook who chuckles but you can see the pink tint to his cheeks.
“Taking care of our princess is something you take very seriously, huh? I can see that,” Hoseok teases and you push him away with a groan as you practically stomp your way inside, only hearing Hoseok’s loud laugh echoing behind you.
The next date he takes you on is a week later and he simply takes you to dinner. You’re happy because after last time, sitting together and just talking, you were looking forward to be with him more. Alone.
He shocks you that night when he actually wears a black button up instead of his usual casual attire. He looked fucking hot. Sleeves rolled up, tattoos on show, hair actually combed back; your knees nearly buckled beneath you when you saw him leaning against his car as he waited for you to come down. He looked like the man of your dreams as he flashed you the biggest grin and opened the passenger door for you, but not before leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek. 
He looked tall and big, bigger than usual for some reason, or maybe that was just because of the way he had you pressed up against the side of his car after parking by your apartment building after your date. Dinner went smoothly, as you expected. And you knew it would end with a goodnight kiss with the way he kept looking at your lips, stained pink with your favorite lipstick that had now made its way over to his lips that were just as pink and shiny as yours now.
“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, repeatedly placing kiss after kiss to your breathless lips. You grab onto his broad shoulders, so large and wide they shielded you from the world behind him, from everything around you.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers before licking into your mouth and you hum, pleased with his deep, addictive kisses.
You part ways with flushed faces and dumb smiles, hair just slightly ruffled and messy from your embrace.
The next few dates feel like heaven. Being with him, near him, talking to him, it all added something to your life that you never aware you wanted. You never had a constant in your life, someone like this. Someone who would sigh over the phone and ask you why you’re still up so late but continue to entertain you nonetheless despite the scolding. Someone who reaches in the backseat and places a bag in your lap and tells you with a bashful tone that he had gotten you something, and that something turns out to pretty blue key chain in the shape of a cat because you had mentioned one time over the phone how you kept losing your keys and that having one would make them more noticeable. Someone who begins keeping an extra jacket or sweater in his car for you because the weather was getting colder and you haven’t begun wearing jackets yet so he had to do it himself. Someone who brought his charger with him to work because you always forgot to charge your phone and would complain about it on the way home. Someone who took care of you and tended to your needs so carefully.
It’s about a month later and everything was going perfect. He was perfect. You’ve never felt so comfortable, in sync, or safe with anyone before. Countless days and nights of talking on the phone, texting, drives home that some nights turned into later dinners at a nearby 24 hour diner, cute dates that your highschool self would gush and blush about.
It’s a slow night, not much going on. Hoseok was handling most of the drinks tonight though since you could feel a light headache forming and it was beginning to annoy you.
In walked Im Jaebum after months of not stepping foot in here back when Jungkook kicked him and his friends out. Your eyes immediately snap to Jungkook because you know he’s got his eyes on him already, and you’re right when you see his eyes follow Jaebum’s every move and step as he gets closer to the bar. He’s alone tonight, walking slowly but surely towards the bar stool at your end of the bar and plopping down without a word. His usual greasy smile isn’t there, his face is grim and quiet, but you figure that that’s a good thing and you walk over to get his order, and that’s all you get. No wink, no trashy compliment, and you feel slightly relieved at that.
Unfortunately, a small fight between two drunk guys broke out because - yes, you guessed it - one guy was flirting with the other’s girlfriend. Your headache got worse with all the loud music and the shouting and you walked over to Hoseok.
“Do you have some painkillers with you in the back?” You ask in his ear, and he’s quick to nod, looking at you with a worried expression, and you gesture to your head with a wince.
“They’re in the front pocket of my bag. Take some and get some air, I can handle it for a bit,” he ushers you away after you give him a grateful smile.
Jungkook enters once again after taking care of the two guys’ problem, eyes unconsciously seeking yours just because it was practically second nature for him by now. He’s staring at the bar, confused because for the first time, you’re not there, serving drinks with a smile. It’s only Hoseok up there and he scratches his head, pondering on where you would be right now.
Well, you had gone out back for a quick breather after taking some painkillers from where Hoseok had them stashed, enjoying the chilly night air in the ally that one of the backdoors led to. Just as you were about to push off the wall and make your way back inside because it didn’t sit right with you to sit out here while Hoseok did all the work, even though you knew he wouldn’t even mind you heading home right now, the door swings open and out he walks, eyes landing on your figure as if he knew you would be here.
“__,” he says, and the greasy smirk that you had been previously been so glad was nowhere to be seen on his face tonight, had once again made its presence known and you couldn’t be less pleased with that fact.
“What are you doing here?” You immediately question. “This door is for employees only-”
“Why do you think I’m here, __?” He asks as he steps closer and you immediately take a larger step back. This isn’t right. This is making your stomach feel queasy and you really want to leave right this second.
“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” you deadpan with a stern tone. “Now, excuse me, I have to go back to work-”
“Wait,” he stretches an arm out and steps sideways before you could reach the door and you immediately back away from him. “You know why I’m here, __. Come on, can we stop playing games?”
“Excuse me?” You ask in a genuinely confused tone. Games? What games? This man doesn’t even know you. Does he really think you’re playing games with him?
“You think I come to this shit place because I just like it here?” He steps closer and you once again step back, looking at the door behind him, mentally planning how you’re about to push him out of the way and make your way back inside. “You I would come here if it weren’t for the hot bartender who’s trying to play hard to get with me?”
“God, you’re such a piece of shit-” 
You’re just about to push him and maybe knee him in the dick before the door behind the two of you to reveal a - a seething Jungkook.
If it weren’t for the fight that had broken out just prior to you leaving, Jungkook would’ve seen Jaebum watch you walk away and get up a couple of minutes later and you wouldn’t have had to exchange a single word with him, but it just so happened that he had been distracted. However, it only took him a couple of minutes to finally notice that the man he’d previously been watching the most the entire night wasn’t in the place he was seated at, and he couldn’t have moved faster as he began his search for you. With each passing second, his breath got heavier, his hands clenched into rock hard fists as if ready to punch the man any second now. He was practically seeing red by the time he reached the back door, his last resort.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Jaebum is practically lifted off the ground when Jungkook grabs him by his clothes and pushes him back. You watch, eyes wide, as the usually shy and relaxed guy who blushed everytime Hoseok teased him about him just getting this job to stare at you all night, who was mentally psyching himself up before asking you out for the first time that one night, who twirled strands of your hair around his finger oh so delicately when you would at times stay a couple of minutes in his car to chat, that same guy was growling at the man who appeared to be smaller than him with the way Jungkook was crowding into his space.
For some odd reason, any previous thoughts of Jaebum were completely erased from your mind, wiped out. And all you could think about was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who you absolutely adored, who was now on the verge of beating up this prick for you, and who looked fucking hot while doing it.
“Do you just go around harassing women? Is that how you waste your worthless time?” Jungkook shakes him as he practically yells those words at him before pushing him aggressively into the cold wall behind him. He stumbles and catches himself before falling.
You’re silent before you look at Jungkook and he looks back at you, fire inside his eyes more tame now as he tries to detect any damage that was done even though he got here before Jaebum could even consider getting close to you. He steps towards you and cups your face, about to say something before he gets interrupted.
“Fuck you, man. And fuck her. I don’t want a stuck up bitch like that anyways-”
Jungkook’s eyes flash at the first word that meets his ears, jaw ticking, brows furrowed in annoyance because clearly just shaking him up a little bit wasn’t enough, and before he could utter another word, Jungkook lands a solid punch to his cheeks that shuts him right up. You gasp in surprise.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Jungkook spits at him. “If I ever see you around here, or around her ever again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”
You reach for his hand and pull him towards the door, and he keeps looking at the guy who’s stumbling away into the alley until the door is finally closed and his eyes travel to you.
“He didn’t touch you, did he? You’re okay? If he did I swear I’ll go back out there and-”
“I’m fine,” you assure and cup his faced between your palms to calm him down. You bring his face close to yours and lock eyes with him. His breathing is a bit heavy and his fists are still clenched, so you release his face in favor of holding them in your smaller ones, unfurling the tight grip and intertwining your fingers with his. Visibly relaxing at being so close to you, he sighs heavily and leans forward a bit more to nudge your nose with his.
“I’m fine,” you repeat once again, voice lower. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
The way you say it, it could be perceived in referring both to the current situation, and just having him here in general. And he knows that.
“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs and can’t help but press a kiss to your lips, one that, for some reason tonight, immediately ignites a fiery fire of need inside you. You don’t know why, it could be because you’ve been wanting this since the first time you tasted his lips, it could be the fact that he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes one, or it could be because your boyfriend was the sweetest man and he treated you with so much care that your body ached for more of his attention; a different kind of care and attention.
It was almost closing time anyway, you think to yourself as you climbed across the console and situated yourself to straddle him the second he shut off the engine, a position you’d been in before. 
You’ll explain to Hoseok later, you think to yourself, fingers digging into his hair as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, large palms running up and down your back. 
Hoseok will definitely understand the situation, you think to yourself as your head falls back and your eyes flutter shut when he begins to suck and nibble on the column of your neck, mouthing at your throat and covering your skin in heated kisses as his strong arms wrapped around your torso and pressed your smaller frame up against his large one.
“Guk,” you whisper, dazed and breathy. He hums against your skin. Your hips push down, something you very rarely go as far as to do, but you can’t stop yourself. You want this. You want him so bad. He groans into your neck.
“Stop, stop,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest, to which he immediately complies. Lips parted, hair ruffled and falling over his eyes in the sexiest way, he looks up at you.
“Do you wanna come upstairs?”
Your apartment is dark but you don’t care enough to turn on any lights as you stumble in, lips locked and bodies intertwined. He pushes you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body up against yours, trapping you against him as he pulls away for a second.
“Where’s your bedroom, baby?” He asks but he’s already once again distracted with planting hot kisses down your neck, hands moving down your body, rough hands gaining confidence as you push closer to him and respond to his subtle touches.
“Down the hall,” you gasp when he bites into your skin. “Door on the left.”
You reach there in record time before he finally loses patience and grips your thighs at the door, signaling you to hold onto him. Muscles tensing, he lifts you up and carries you the rest of the way all the while you feel yourself getting warm at his show of strength.
He places you down on the mattress gently before he slips of his jacket and throws it away somewhere, not bothering to aim where it lands because his eyes are fixated on the way you scoot back on the bed and await for him to join you. And join you, he does, climbing up the bed and over your body, eyes dark and strands of hair cascading down his face, a hungry expression written all over his face. 
He doesn’t kiss you. His arms, you can see them bulging through your peripheral vision, hold him up above you as he stares down at the way you’re sprawled out beneath him. Your shirt is riding up slightly, some bare skin revealed to his dark eyes. Your chest moves up and down with each deep breath you take in.Your dainty hands are fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes blinking up at him as you anxiously await his next move.
“Pretty,” he comments and brings one hand to brush back some hair before burying his hand in your hair and gripping firmly to expose your neck to him. You gasp out, enjoying the pressure you feel in your skull and he takes notice, chuckling lowly before kissing down your neck and collarbones.
“I wanna make you feel good, baby,” he groans into your skin. One of his hands goes down to your hip and bunches the shirt up in his palm, and the skin burns in the best way where he brushes against you. His knees gently nudge your legs apart to settle further between your thighs and you willingly allow him more room, hands reaching for his back and scrunching up the material between your fingers.
“Wanna make you moan,” he whispers. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers gingerly push your shirt further and further up until it reached just below your breasts. The tips of his fingers brush against the bottom of your bra and your arch your back, craving more than the gentle touches he’s currently giving you. He gets the hint and lifts the shirt up until your bra clad breasts are exposed to him and he continues kissing down your collarbone to litter your kisses to the newly exposed skin.
“Yes,” you gasp, giving him the okay.
“Make you scream,” he continues. With a slip of his finger, he brings one of the cups down and takes your nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention and running his tongue over it until it hardened completely.
“Yes, Guk,” you whimper. The hand still placed in your hair seems to tighten at the sound of his name.
“Even the sounds you make are pretty,” he chuckles against your breast, hot breath hitting your skin with every word. You flush at his compliments, but you don’t have much time to be shy about it before he pulls away from you to sit up on his knees between your legs. Large palms stroke your thighs, warming them up with his touch. He looks into your eyes as he does this, mouth curled up at one side, the most devilish smile as he reaches for the hem of your pants and fiddles with the button there.
“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily, biting his lip. The sight has you even more excited. “I can be a bit...intense.”
Your core heats at the implications of what that could mean and god you wanna find out. You find yourself nodding eagerly, hips lifting a bit to show your approval.
“I am,” you assure.
Before you knew it, your pants were being tugged off your legs as you sat back against the pillows, legs spread for him. Panties still on, you placed a hand on his when he made a move to remove them as well causing him to look up at you.
“Can you take your shirt off?” You ask a bit shyly, to which he chuckles and shakes his head at you.
You never thought someone could look so sexy taking their shirt off, but the second he reached for his back to tug it off, you knew you were done for. The material slid off so smoothly and effortlessly, caressing the golden skin that was being exposed inch by inch, looking so soft and warm to the touch. It ruffled his hair and got it all messy when it reached his head, before it was completely off and he threw it away. The muscles in his torso rippled with every move he made, sculpted so beautifully you were mesmerized with every little dip and bump his torso had. What caught your eye the most were the several tattoos inked across his right arm and shoulder.
He was absolutely gorgeous.
You took him all in and couldn’t help but reach to touch him, and he leans forward to allow your fingertips to glide across his chest and up his shoulders, while his hands get busy lifting up your own shirt that was still half way up.
You let him take your shirt off in a daze, still entranced with his body because he just seemed so...large. He was pretty buff, you already knew that, but now with the way he was leaning over you and trailing one hand down your abdomen to your panties, staring you down with almost black with lust eyes, he seemed fucking huge.
Arousal gathered in your panties at the thought.
You didn’t really know why. This didn’t usually get you this worked up. Maybe it was the events of tonight, or the events of the past couple of months, of Jeon Jungkook being the most gentlemanly any man could ever be while still having the ability to flip the switch and snap someone in two if he wanted to. 
Or maybe it simply was the fact that you were attracted to him on so many different levels. Aside from the fact that Jungkook appeared to be a man sculpted like gods, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, the past few months with him had been nothing short of surreal. From the little things that showed how much he looked after you, down to the way he kissed you so lovingly every single time, as if pouring out his emotions to you with the way he did it.
“Fuck,” you pant out when he slips his hand beneath your panties and gathers your wetness on his fingers. You press your lips together as his fingers begin exploring.
“So wet already,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cleavage before hastily making his way down your body. He looks up at you for a beat, removing his hand from your panties before gripping both sides and slowly sliding the material down until they reached your ankles, where you kick them away at once.
Shuffling can be heard as he situates himself between your legs and you spread them open for him. You don’t dare look down as you expose yourself to him, opting to stare up at the white ceiling, but you hear a pleased sound coming from down there before short kisses are being littered all across your inner thighs. You continue to stare up, breathing pace increasing, faster with each second as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin, getting closer to your growing wetness with each peck.
“How do you like it?” The question is muffled into your skin. He kisses your lips once, gently, as if he was kissing any other more innocent part of you.
“Hmm?” You hum distractedly, looking down questioningly.
“How do you like it, baby?” He repeats the question and kisses your pussy once more, and your breath hitches as he makes eye contact. His tongue slithers out for a swift lick. “Fast? Slow?” He licks a long stripe up your lips and you shutter, fingers already gripping the sheets to ready yourself. “Messy?”
“Jungkook,” you gasp because he’s already licking into you and humming in satisfaction.
“You better tell me before I just go with whatever I want,” he warns jokingly. He shifts slightly and situates himself better, elbows digging into the the mattress. 
"I-I like it fast,” you breathe out because he’s already mouthing at your center. “And m-messy-shit-”
He delivers what you request without hesitation, tongue beginning to lave at your wet hole, creating a kind of friction that you immediately begin to tense up at. You gasp at the ceiling. Tongue wiggling and lapping at every drop of your essence, you think you can hear him breathe you in deeply and it causes more of your wetness to gush out. It’s incredible, you didn’t expect the onslaught of sensations you were currently experiencing to come so fast, but he already has you building up a sweat with the way he stiffens his tongue and pokes at your hole.
“Shit-J-Jungkook I-” you whimper. He hums right into your pussy. Sloppy noises of sucking and licking travel through the air and if anyone were to hear, they would probably be turned off but you feel anything but. The way he opens his mouth and spreads your lips with two sets of fingers either side to open you up for him. The heat of his mouth fully encasing you, sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit. It breaks your voice and your eyes roll back as your back arches.
“Oh god fuck! Jungkook! Jungkook!” His name is repeated several times, broken little cries and small whimpers reaching his ears. His palms are stroking your thighs, moving higher and higher up and past your tummy. “Oh-oh god!”
His palms reach your breasts and he takes them in his hands, kneading and squeezing. Your head digs into the mattress and your back arches into his touch. Sweat beads build at your temples and you feel so hot all over, like you’re going to explode, most of the heat centered at your core where Jungkook is suddenly moving his head side to side, tongue movement switching up. “F-fuck. Fuckfuckfuck-”
Fingers squeeze at your breasts harder. “Take it-hmph-off.” He’s spewing the words into your cunt and you almost don’t hear them but he pats your chest twice, too busy eating you up to focus on taking it off himself. Hastily, with shaky hands. your lift your back and yank the restraining material, sensitive nipples now exposed to his deft fingers.
You look down and whimper weakly at the sight. Hair falling over his face, tongue pressed into your wetness and full lips sucking your clit into his mouth. “Oh god! Like that-”
“Like that?” He repeats and sucks again.
“Yes! Yes yes yes-” You cry out repeatedly.
His tongue stiffens again and he wiggles it inside your pussy. You gasp, choked moan escaping your lips. Shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Your fingers scramble to grip at the messy sheets.
“Ngh-I’m-I’m gonna-”
“Cum.” He says one word. Both hands leave your breasts and shoot down to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and bring you closer to his mouth, widening it until he covers your entire pussy and sucks noisily, slurping up your wetness.
“Fuck! Fuck Jung-Jungkook I-oh god I’m gonna-oh! Oh don’t stop!” You’re spewing out so many random words, high pitched and sounding the filthiest you’ve ever felt, body buzzing with so much pleasure and ecstasy as you feel your orgasm overtake you. “Don’tstop-please please please Jungkook-” His name is whined out and he enjoys your sounds more than anything, licking you through your orgasm until your body twitches and you weak fingers push at him weakly.
“Guk,” you whimper.
He doesn’t stop.
“Shit Guk,” you whine again and he pulls away. His mouth and chin are soaked, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp with sweat and strands falling across his face.
“Fuck,” he whispers, staring at you for a second, looking completely fucked out and he hasn’t even pulled his cock out yet. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are droopy and - you look absolutely fuckable.
His movements are a blue in front of your eyes, but you watch hazily as he leans back and slips off his boxers, his eyes never once leaving you. They travel up and down your body, sweaty and flushed, legs spread and exposed for him, and he’s already planning in his head all the different ways he wants to have his ways with you if you let him.
Your gasp can be heard clearly in the quiet of the room, and his eyes shoot up to catch what you’re so surprised about, and true to his assumption, your eyes are glued to his cock that’s now wrapped in his slender fingers. He feels something swell in his core, and he doesn’t know if it’s pride at the way you’re taking him in with a mouth agape and flushed cheeks.
A trickle of wetness, you feel it building up and slipping out as you stare unabashedly.
It’s pretty. You’ve never described a dick as pretty, but it really was. Oh, and it was big. Big would be an understatement, it was huge. It made even his enormous hands look normal sized, even smaller maybe. Long, thick and curved at the tip. That little curve had your pussy clenching, and you’re gulping down a whimper harshly. The sight of him kneeling there is so erotic, and to make things worse, as if he knows your body was a bit too much for you to handle or comprehend, he raises a muscly arm and pushes his hair back from his face and looks at you with the most seductive look you’ve ever been subjected to, cock still in hand as he utters his next words.
“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” His voice is a bit hoarse, deeper than before, tone laced with pure desire.
You nod, legs spreading even wider than they already were, bottom lip pulled back beneath your teeth. He chuckles and leans forward, hand abandoning his cock and coming to rest beside your head as he leans over top of your body, face now right above yours.
“Words, baby,” he tells you. The other hand trails up your body, from your thigh, to your abdomen, to your breasts where he grazes his nail against your nipple, and the skin immediately pebbles up at the sultry touch. “You need to tell me what you want,” he squeezes your nipple ever so slightly before he releases it, continuing his path up and resting an open palm over your chest, across your collarbones, fingers laying right at the base of your neck. “What you like.” It’s not really a squeeze, but you feel the smallest bit of pressure there and you immediately gasp, thighs clenching but being blocked by his large build, and he notices your reaction. His hand slithers further up until his fingertips tap at your mouth, eyes locked with yours, eyebrows twitching up and lips curling into a sinister smile. “Just need you to tell me, baby.”
He watches, satisfied as you part your lips for his fingers to enter, and he slithers in two.  Knuckle deep, your flick your tongue over the digits and coat them with your spit as you would his pretty cock, and his cock twitches at the filthy act. You suck and wrap your lips around them, doing the most, and he slides them further inside your mouth, lips parting slightly as his breath got heavy at the sight. You kept looking at him the entire time, eyes blinking up at him to take in his every reaction.
“Jesus, __,” he groans. He slips them out and attacks your mouth with a hungry kiss, hand slipping between your bodies and going straight for your pussy. You squeal into his mouth and his tongue immediately slides in as his now soaked fingers fuck into you.
“Hmph-Jungkook!” His name is muffled as his fingers begin thrusting in and out, not giving you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yours with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. Hands reaching for his back and shoulders, hips writhing beneath the strength of his body, your head pushes back and away from his mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips and it only breaks when he licks his lips hungrily at the sight of you.
“Yeah?” He moves his fingers harder and your body jolts. “Like that? Tell me, baby.”
“Yes! Yeah,” you whine. Your body thrashes and your head turns to the side as you gasp and pant. He can’t help it, leaning in and running his nose all across your neck and up to your cheeks, teeth nipping at whatever skin he can reach. He can’t get enough of you and you can hear it in the way he breathes heavily and groans out your name.
“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” he grunts, going faster and faster. “Will you let me fuck you? Will you let me fuck you hard?” He’s groaning but it also sounds like he’s begging, desperate for you to allow him to take you like he wants.
“Yes! Y-yes! Jung-Jungkook pleaseplease-” Your voice is high and it sounds like you’re squealing and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when he finally has his cock buried in your cunt. “Jungkook! Ohgod fuck me-”
His fingers leave you and he’s lifting his body up from yours, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you. But he’s situating himself between your thighs once again and looking up at you with a wink, and for a second you’re about to question his intentions when he purses his lips and allows a trail of spit to cover your pussy, and the second it connects with you, you’re moaning out loudly.
“You said you liked it messy,” he explain deviously, knees now placed beneath your ass as he finally begins lining his cock up with your entrance. You’re quick to look down, entranced by the sight of the large head rubbing up and down your wetness mixed with his spit, a shiny sheet now coating the sensitive skin. You press your lips together, head spinning with excitement and slight nervousness because it looks so fucking big now that you see it there.
“If I go too fast,” he warns, tip now slowly pushing in. “Or too rough,” his tone is a bit more breathy now, choked back. “You have to tell me.”
You gasp, nodding hastily, but you can’t imagine ever telling him to stop. Nothing he’s done so far has felt too much for you, and you can’t imagine anything involving him not feeling good for you, especially with the way his cock now feels gliding inside you and slowly making you feel full.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, __,” he grunts, halfway in. He’s biting at his lip, brows furrowed, tonguing pushing against his cheek. He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, hands now gripping your thighs, pausing his hips from moving further. “You have to tell me-”
“Jungkook,” you whine, hips bucking and both your moans resonate into the atmosphere as he buckles over, hands releasing your thighs in favor of holding himself up, fists clenched so tightly his veins started popping as they dug into the mattress either side of your torso. He huffs, dark eyes looking up at you through hooded lids, an almost predatory gaze hiding somewhere in there. He looked intimidating but in the best way possible, and you found yourself rolling your hips again. The furrow in his brows gets deeper.
“I don’t want you to hold back,” you plead. “Fuck me. Hard.” You stress on the last word with a whine. The chuckle that leaves his lips almost sounds dark in a way-
“Fuck,” you heave, breath knocked out of you when he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in, not even all the way, but it still has you struggling to breathe.
“You like it rough?” He grunts through heavy breaths, sliding in further and further until you were completely connected and his abdomen connected with yours.
“Ye-fuck!” You squeal out. Hips pulling back and slamming back in, he watches with ravenous eyes the way you tremble beneath him. He does it again, and again, and again, slowly and pausing between each thrust, but each one just as hard the previous.
“I-I-” You stutter out but can’t manage to formulate a single thought because his pace suddenly picks up and you’re left with no resort but to pant and moan out your pleasure. He’d prepped you so well his cock moved inside you so easily, your wetness coating him so nicely, and he only felt you getting wetter every time he filled you to the brim.
“You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, baby.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, powerful thighs supporting yours, before he sets a brutal pace that brings a loud yelp to escape you, It feels so intense, the way he bucks skillful hips into yours and slams into you so hard it feels like it would border on painful, but it doesn’t. It felt so good. 
He fulfills his promise. Moans, whimpers, squeals, all sorts of pleasured sounds leave your lips repeatedly. His cock reaches so deep inside you one second, and he’s pulling all the way out in the next before once again repeating the motions. “Ngh-Jungkook. Jungkook! Fuck-”
“Oh fuck baby,” he moans loudly and it sounds so beautiful you want to hear it over and over again. You look up at the sweaty man above you, looking like the most sinful vision. His hair is wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, god if you could bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. What looked most beautiful to you were his arms, veins popping, tattoos clear even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” your hands scramble to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Jungkook! J-Jungkook baby!”
“You sound so fucking pretty baby,” he grunts. He stares down at his cock and the way it splits you open so prettily, your lips spread around him and the sight was so erotic to him, he threw his head back with a prolonged groan before he leaned forward. He grips your thighs and tugs you down on the bed, placing you in the position he wants and your pussy clenches from that simple action alone
“Even you pussy sounds pretty,” he comments, throwing your thighs into the crook of his elbows, anchoring both hands on the mattress and moving so that you body almost bent in half beneath him. “Hear that?” He pulls all the way out and slams back in so hard his hips smack against your ass loudly, The sound your pussy makes when his cock slips all the way in; wet, it’s loud and clear and it brings a flush to your cheeks, though it hardly shows since you were already red with heat. “So wet.”
The new position makes the sensations double, your thighs burning with how far they were spread but you can’t even begin to care with how he begins to furiously drill his cock into you over and over. Body being fucked into the mattress, mewls and screams of agonizing pleasure escape you, completely losing any sense of control you thought you ever had. He looked like sin embodied, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth, half-lidded eyes, drenched dark hair swinging with every move, sticking to his flushed cheeks.
Your hands shakily reach up to wrap around his neck, one of them pushing some hair back from his face. Fingernails dig into the back of his neck at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back.
“Oh! Oh god! Jung-Jungkookjungkookjungkook-” His name is a repeated mantra along with hoarse cries and wails. The sheets are damp with sweat beneath you, your body being jostled up and down over top of them with harsh movements that Jungkook  doesn’t hold back from anymore.
“Fuck! Your pussy’s so good baby. So wet-” He slows and grinds down against you. Toes curling, back arching, head pushing back into the pillows, your hands slip down his drenched torso across his pecks and settling on his abs, scratching the tensed muscles there as a broken sob leaves your lips.
“Ohgod- oh god- oh fuck! Jungkook please I’m- so good! So fucking good-”
Your desperate rambling excites him and he pushes deeper, and your ears don’t miss the filthy squelch that resonates when grinds his cock into your cunt. You involuntarily clench and he grunts in response. He keeps that way for a couple of seconds, grinding against you, his pubic bone pressing into just the right place to make you see stars.
He slips your thighs down and helps you wrap them around his slender waist before he wastes no time setting the quick pace once again. Hips smacking together loudly, grunts, groans, curses, squeals, they clash together like your bodies do, connected so deeply as he leans down and covers your body completely with his. You look up through hazy vision at his large frame working on top of yours so viciously, blocking everything from around you, not suffocating you but giving you a sense of warmth that has you wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him closely to your body.
Bodies now glued together, his hips swivel as best as they can up into yours, digging so deep, going faster and faster, harder and harder until your moans are quick and chopped up and your hands are slipping down his sweaty, broad back.
“Fuckfuck- Jungkook! Jungkook! Ohgod- oh! Oh!” You cry out. Your legs begin to fall from around him and your feet kick out against the sheets, back arching so high your breasts pressed firmly into his chest. You felt so close to him. His cheek rubs against yours with every thrust, his mouth sucking your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. You turn your head towards him, eyes fluttering shut, taking in every single sliver of pleasure he brought you.
“I’m gonna cum- shit Jungkook pleaseplease- I’m cumming!” You cry out. It’s there. It’s right there. You feel it spreading.
“Fucking-fuck baby. Yeah,” he grunts and pushes harder. You choke on a sob. There are tears in your eyes. “Squeeze my cock. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it.”
You don’t know if your hands are pulling him closer or pushing him away but he fucks you through it nonetheless, sloppy sounds of his cock drenched in your cum lewd and so loud but you could care less. You’re in heaven. You’re crying out, shouting his name in complete ecstasy and squirming in his hold as he grips your hips so tight they could bruise, pushing in deep and giving you quick shallow thrusts.
“I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming, baby,” he groans. His head is hidden in your neck, groaning and grunting into your clammy skin and giving you his all, knees digging into the mattress as he gives three deep thrusts as hard as he can. Your mouth drops open, no sounds coming out, breath cut short. One hand goes to your hair, gripping so tight as he finally lets go, spurts of warm cum filling you up.
The quiet that takes place after is deafening. It’s so loud after all the intensity you had just experienced. Neither of you move an inch away from each other, no, you pull him closer as you feel a drip of his cum leak out. Your hands lazily and gently caress his back. His lips, glued to one spot on your neck, pucker up and continuously place kisses. You’re both sighing dreamily as you relax further into one another and let your bodies relax after so much exertion before he finally lifts his head up just enough to face you.
No words are exchanged but a kiss takes place, slow, sweet, bringing back those butterflies you always have whenever he’s with you and he pulls away with that same shy, stupid smile of his. After all that, he’s still smiling at you like this, and you do nothing but giggle and stroke his hair away from his face.
A while later, after lying together and kissing on each other more, he suggests a shower with an innocent smile that makes you think he really was too tired to try anything else after all that. But you seem to forgot that Jungkook wasn’t this built for nothing and he actually has incredible stamina. Which is why, not even five minutes into the shower, he’s pushing you over the small handle bar and telling you to hold on tight as he spread your legs apart with a nudge of his knees.
He fucks you hard because he knows that’s how you want it. He pulls your hair and tugs you back against his firm chest and whispers the filthiest things in your ear.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.”
“You just wanna be fucked hard, huh?”
“Your pussy’s so tight, so warm, perfect for my cock.”
You only ever answer with broken sobs and pitiful moans. The shower is filled with sounds of your bodies colliding together and his harsh grunts that serve to weaken your knees even further until he has to practically hold you up himself. A task he easily does and that makes you even weaker for him.
You cum with hoarse cries, head dropping back against his shoulder as he runs both hands up your front and cups your breasts firmly, hips still slamming against your ass in chase of his own high that he reaches in no time.
He helps you out of the shower with a gentle peck to the tip of your nose as you smile up at him in a daze. He pats you dry with a towel and dabs at your hair to get any excess water out and you continue to stare up at him, entranced.
He looks so pretty. Eyes wide and focused on getting you dry, hair dripping down his face and neck. So different from the man who was just fucking you into next week a couple of minutes ago in the shower. No, this man smiles cutely down at you and giggles when you kiss his chin as he leans down further to dry your thighs. You kiss on his chest, admiring the tattoos scattered from his shoulder and down to his arm and hand. You kiss on him more and he sighs at the feeling, but he doesn’t expect you to push him away to rest his behind against the counter before swiftly dropping down to your knees in front of him.
The bathroom soon fills with his low moans and groans, backed with soft sounds of your mouth working on his cock. He watches closely as you attempt to swallow him down as much as possible, smaller hands working over the rest.
You look up at him through your lashes and watch as his head drops back and exposes the long column of his neck, the sight somehow getting you aroused once again as you feel wetness begin to gather between your legs. You suck harder, pull off and swirl your tongue deliciously around his cock.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages. His hand pets your hair tenderly before he gathers up some strands behind your head to grip. Your mouth looks so good stuffed full of his cock, lips wrapped so prettily around him. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad, but he thinks he’ll save that for a later time so he can give you more time for it. Instead, he leans back and enjoys the show, compliments and praises continuously leaving his lips as you hum against his cock, pleased with his sounds.
He cums down your throat with a long groan of your name and looks down at you with a breathless chuckle as he helps you up to your feet.
He eats you out again. He does it so good this time there are tears in your eyes by the end of it.
He has you ride him, and you do so with vigor, grappling onto his strong and sturdy shoulders for support as you bounce yourself on his cock.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you gasp time and time again. Sweat drips down your back at the effort. Your thighs burn. His eyes look everywhere at you, your face, your neck, your breasts, your dripping cunt. He leans back on his palms and watches with a satisfied smirk as you fuck yourself on his cock.
“That’s a good girl, baby,” he groans. You pause your bouncing and swivel your hips, grinding against him and he throws his head back. Leaning forward, you lick a strip up his neck hungrily, something you’ve been craving to and he grunts loudly.
He’s sitting up and grabbing your ass, fucking up into your hard, three, four times and it’s enough to have you squealing before he lifts your frail body off of him and places you on the mattress with ease.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he situates you. Ass up in the air, face down on the mattress. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans, grabbing your ass and unable to stop himself from slamming his palm down harshly, an action that has you jolting forward in surprise. “You’re amazing,” he groans as he slides inside of you once again after sitting on his knees behind you. Whimpers fall freely from your lips because he immediately picked up the pace knowing the both of you were too close already. “I could fuck you forever.”
You squeal as another harsh slap lands on your behind.
“Again. More,” you whimper. Fisting the sheets between your palms, tears that were previously held back now escaping your eyes. It was so much. You loved it. “P-please.”
He spanks you again and again and again, as long as you ask for more, he delivers And he fucks you good while doing it, slamming into you so hard he has to keep you steady with his hands. Hips smacking against your ass, cock drilling you into the mattress, battering your cunt so good.
“F-fuck. Fuck J-Jungkook- so good. Sogood. So good oh god please-”
He goes harder. Faster. He spanks you again and more tears fall from your eyes. You bury your face into the mattress and muffle your uncontrollable crescendo of screams and moans into it as your high crashes over you for the nth time this night.
“Oh god, you’re such a good girl,” he breathes almost in disbelief as you cream his cock, coating it with your essence. Eyes glued to his cock still slamming into you. the sight brings him to his release in a couple of seconds as his hips lose their control and become sloppy.
“Shit. Shit! Fuck, __. Oh baby,” he groans and grunts and makes all sorts of noises, once again filling you with his cum as you sniffle and whimper into the mattress, keeping still for him as he comes down from his high.
The shower you two had taken is practically non-existent by now, and you feel sticky again as he gently pulls out and drops onto the mattress with a tired groan.
Both of you were completely burned out by now.
You slowly lift your face from the mattress to look over at him and he’s already staring at you. His cheeks are red. His hair, still damn from the shower, probably coated in sweat now, is sticking to his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He has the biggest smile on his face, two bunny teeth on full show, eyes crinkling, nose scrunching; the whole deal.
“That was nice,” he comments. You giggle.
“That was really nice,” you add lamely, twisting to lay on your side facing him.
He scoots closer and hugs you to him, sneaking his leg between yours until the two of you were pressed together tightly. He’s humming a tune, barely audible, and you trace patterns up and down his back distractedly.
“I really like you Jungkook,” you admit suddenly and you’re already inwardly shaking your head at how stupid that sounded after the intense couple of hours you two had just experienced.
“I think we’ve already established that a long time ago,” he chuckles and pulls back to look down at you. 
“No, I-” you pause and look down at his chest shyly. Your fingers continue tracing his warm back. “I really, really like you, Jungkook.”
He kind of gets what you’re trying to say and that maybe you’re just not ready to actually word it out. But he knows for sure when you look up at him and into his eyes. He knows.
“Well, I really, really like you too, __,” he repeats, smile getting smaller and his eyes more serious. His fingers push back your hair and he gently strokes your cheek and nudges his nose against yours as your eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact.
“I’ll always be here,” he repeats words that he’s said to you before. Words that you know are true. Because he always was and always will be here. Sure, he came for the job, but eventually, he stayed for you. 
You know, he was your knight in shining armor after all.
11K notes · View notes
bakumu · a month ago
Tumblr media
kinktober 2021 day 15 - breeding
Sukuna Ryomen x fem! reader
wc: 1.6k
summary: when you've had enough of your husband's neglect you always find yourself in Sukuna’s bed, but tonight Sukuna wishes to claim you as his own.
cw: NON/DUBCON BREEDING, SMUT (breeding kink, consentual sex but noncon/dubcon breeding, forced breeding, mating press, biting, nipple play, pregnancy mentions, baby trapping, noncon breeding, lotsa cum, unprotected sex, possessiveness, creampie, heaven/hell metaphor), INFIDELITY, CHEATING, nicknames (dove, baby), modern au where he's just a hot morally gray guy with tattoos, ooc probs
a/n: special thanks to @lunastellanova for helping me with phrasing at 1am
<< back to my kinktober masterlist
minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content
Tumblr media
You climb into bed next to your husband, trying to chase away the heartache in your soul. Maybe tonight will be different.
As soon as you nestle into his side, you breathe in the cologne that you used to love, thinking of all the times he cuddled you to sleep or gave you loving forehead kisses. Until his arm pulls away from you, patting you on the head as he rolls over onto his side, facing away from you.
You try to still your broken heart from hammering in your chest from his dismissal but maybe the night can be salvaged.
“I don't get a good night kiss?” your voice whispers, trying to sound sweet just like the old days.
He rolls his shoulders back and puckers his lips to kiss you. You sit up so that you can reach him, but his kiss feels like kissing your grandmother, his lips hard and unmoving, accompanied by a fake muah sound.
He gives you a polite smile before rolling back to his side and tucking his pillow under his head.
You lay down next to him, resting your head against his back. When did things get like this? When did you start craving that intimacy that comes with being so in love? Is it too much to be wanted? To crave the feeling of hands digging into your flesh by someone completely obsessed with the idea of you?
As if on cue, your phone dings.
‘You comin’ tonight or is he actually paying attention to you?’
Tumblr media
Your bare back bounces on the bed as Sukuna climbs over you. The hard lines of his tattooed body seem to flicker in the red light of his room as his hands grope your flesh.
His tongue traces a line up your neck to your lips before he kisses you passionately, and you let yourself fall into his obsessive touch.
His hands grab your hips in a way that your husband never has. His fingernails dig into you, leaving crescent moons on your skin. He's addicting in every way as his lips move against yours.
You moan from his touch as your fingers thread into his hair, pulling his body impossibly closer to you, his weight pressing you further and further into the mattress, almost suffocating you.
He's heady and intoxicating and ever since you met him, you haven't been able to shake the feelings he blooms inside you. Your body craves the harshness of his fingers and the wildness in his heart and you can't seem to stop yourself from coming back.
The first time you saw him, you felt the air around you freeze as your eyes locked with his. Your heart hammered in your chest when he introduced himself to you, his leather jacket only cementing his bad boy persona. And when he learned you were married, it motivated him to work harder for you; not that it was too hard to whisk you away from a husband who never pays attention to you.
Would Sukuna say he loves you? No, he would never say such a thing. But does it drive him mad that you're with someone who doesn't worship the ground you walk on? Hell fucking yes. Every time you come over, all needy and crying because that bastard of a husband ignored you or forgot your anniversary ... he swears that he is going to end the guy. And one of these days he will do it.
He starts to rub your clit as he peppers kisses down your throat, stopping at the junction of your neck to bite into your flesh. You gasp as his teeth dig into your skin and he revels in the sound, his dick twitching against his thigh as his fingers skillfully rub against your clit.
He kisses your chest, until he's sucking your nipple into his mouth, his teeth rolling the sensitive bud around as his tongue flicks against it. Your back arches as he continues to suck and he can’t help but fantasize about how they would swell if you were pregnant.
He hates that his thoughts always drift to this when you're moaning under him, but he can't help it. The thought of stuffing your cunt full of his seed, seeing you swell with his child, it's all he ever imagines. All he thinks about.
Maybe if you got pregnant, you would finally leave your bastard husband.
He sits between your legs and runs his fingers through your folds, watching how your essence coats his skin. You're so wet, so needy. Your whimpers egg him on as he eases his fingers inside of you, your head pushing further into the pillow under you as he curls them right against your g spot.
Your legs threaten to close around him as he thrusts his fingers into you, his speed only increasing as you keen. Your back arches off the bed as your hands scrunch the sheets in ecstasy.
“You look so good cummin’ on my fingers—” he leans over you, his half-lidded eyes filled with a lustful glow as his parted lips pant, watching your face as you cum “—so fuckin’ good.”
Sukuna is always so proud when he can make you cum so fast, your euphoria only making him harder. He palms his weighty cock, feeling himself throb at the sight of you below him. Your legs spread further as your own cum seeps out of you, your panting chest rising and falling as his hands grab your thighs.
He can't help but coo at you as he pushes your legs into your chest, “I’m going to fuck you so good, dove.” You nod with begging eyes as he motions for you to hold your legs for him, lining himself up with your drooling cunt. “Gonna fuck you so good my name is gonna be the only thing you remember.”
He pushes the head of his thick cock inside you, savoring the way your walls suck him in until you stop him.
“Ryo,” you pant, “condom… did you?”
How could he forget? You both were always so safe, so careful.
“Don't worry, I’ll pull out,” he lies, but you believe him, letting out a content sigh.
You look so pretty under him, and you'll look even better when his cum is dripping out of you. He pulls the tip out before pushing in again slowly. Your warm tight walls squeezing every inch of him as he bullies his way inside you.
You let out a loud groan when he's fully seated inside you, your wet walls pulsing around him as your eyes flutter. He's so big, the stretch is so good, and you're almost creaming just from him putting it in.
His hips start building up to a brutal pace as you grab onto his wrists holding your legs open. Your fingernails dig into his black tattoos as he pounds into you, each stroke getting harder and harder.
Sukuna’s head spins as he pounds into you; your pussy trying to squeeze him, to hold him still, but he won't stop. He needs to fill you, needs to breed you. Fill you so full of him that you won't have a choice. You'll have to leave your good-for-nothing husband because you'll be full of his pups.
A feral growl leaves his throat. One word emanating in his mind with each thrust. Breed, breed, breed.
“You want my cum, don't you?” he snarls into your ear, pushing your legs even further into your chest.
Your eyes flutter in your head, his words slurring in your head as his cock plunges into you as you moan, “Cum— gonna cum.”
His thrusts barrel down into you as your legs start to shake. “Want me to fill you? Pump you so fucking full, baby.”
You nod at the sound of his voice, reaching closer and closer to heaven. Your nails scraping against his skin, trying to drag him with you to the pearly gates.
“Yeah, you want that, you want that?” Every word he speaks sends him closer and closer to blowing his load inside you, making you his and his alone.
“Yeah, yeah you do,” he starts enunciating each word he speaks with a harsh thrust. “Yeah. You. Fucking. Do.”
Your legs try to close around his body as your orgasm rockets through you. The pearly white gates of heaven are just within your reach until you're falling faster and faster. Your body shakes at the strength of your orgasm, and Sukuna can feel your walls trying to force him out as you gush around him, but he fights your grip, fucking into you even harder.
“Fucking take it, dove,” he says with a grunt, his dick twitching inside you, “Take my fucking cum.”
Sukuna looks down at where your body is connected as he lets his orgasm wash over him. His dick pumping into you as shutters rake his body before his hips are pushing his cock all the way into you.
His white hot cum fills your womb. Pumping more and more cum into you with every clench of his balls.
Sukuna doesn't let your body relax, wanting to stay inside you for as long as possible, to keep his cum in you for as long as possible.
Your pleasure filled mind slowly wakes up at the realization that he came. He came inside you. That his cum is still inside you and you shake your head, willing it to be untrue.
You blink away the spots in your eyes, and when you open them you're standing before the gates of hell, and Sukuna is smiling down at you.
“It's alright dove, everything is going to be just fine.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @eijirosriot @mossygreys @thathoneybee3 @hornime @luna-rin @tehehebri @lilyshadows15-blog @shittywomann @ebiharachan @bisexualtragedy @01-20-1992 @lunastellanova @jardiindexeliin
801 notes · View notes
sukirichi · 6 months ago
black magic [02]
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife
cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp
song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)
note. i want a husband sukuna 
part one | part two
Tumblr media
Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.
You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.
He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.
You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.
He really doesn’t care.
“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”
Sukuna chuckles nervously.
Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?
“What are you going on about?”
“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”
You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.
He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.
Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.
You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.
Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.
“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You-you want me?”
“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”
You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.
Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”
“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”
For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.
Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.
Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.
“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”
You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.
“You really don’t want me.”
Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.
“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”
Something like hope lights up inside you.
“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”
“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.
Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”
“Don’t say it like that!”
“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”
Tumblr media
He must’ve lied.
You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.
Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.
Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.
But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.
“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.
“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”
“Yes. Do you like it?”
“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”
You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.
“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.
“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.
“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.
“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”
You forgot how to breathe.
“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”
“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”
“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”
“It’s my love to you.”
“Not Your Majesty?”
“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”
You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.
By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”
You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”
You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.
He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.
His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”
“Then stop staring too much.”
“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”
Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.
Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”
“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”
“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”
“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”
“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”
“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”
“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”
“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.
Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.
“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”
You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.
It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.
“Sukuna, stop teasing!”
“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”
“You know how!”
“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”
“Your mouth...”
Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”
Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”
“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”
“M-more, please, I need more.”
You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.
Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.
Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.
Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.
With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.
Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.
But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.
Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.
“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.
“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “’re perfect.”
Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”
His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.
The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.
He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.
The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.
You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.
“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”
“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”
There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.
He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.
It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.
“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.
Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.
“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”
Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.
He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.
“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.
He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.
“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”
“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”
“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”
You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.
Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.
Until he taps your breast.
“Little one?”
“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.
“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”
Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”
“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”
Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”
“One more?”
“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”
“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”
Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.
3K notes · View notes
apocalypticgargoyle · 6 months ago
Oh my god i just found you're writing and I'm obssessed. First of all, I'm in love with your edgy!karl series. Seriously, it's amazing. Second of all, I had a little idea that you can take as a request if you'd like. I was thinking edgy!dream/clay but with a shy innocent girl. And a hint of some fear play kink? Like she's all cute and he's so edgy shes scared and intimidated by him when they meet and it turns him on knowing shes both scared of him AND attracted to him at the same time so he uses it against her(consensually of course)
can we call him alt!dream? ;) also,,, i rly like this request...
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒. ♘ 𝐚𝐥𝐭!𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)
pairing: alt!Dreamwastaken x fm!reader
warnings: smut (18+), fighting, smoking, language, oral (fm. receiving), fear play, asphyxiation, sight size kink & praise, dominance
Tumblr media
The movie theatre dimmed, the beginning credits of the film reeling as a montage of a city played in the background. You settled back in your seat, accepting the fact that you had been stood up, determined not to let it ruin the movie you had already paid for. That’s right; instead of treating yourself to a new pair of shoes or a set of notebooks, you agreed to meet up with a sleazy guy from class after weeks of him pleading.
You sighed slightly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you realized you hadn’t even wanted to see the film and had only agreed because he suggested it. Someone moved into a seat near you, his legs stretching as he slumped down, purely due to his towering height. You stiffened, crossing your legs to inch away from him at the sight of his various tattoos peeking out from beneath his dark corduroy jacket.
He carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, revealing an eyebrow ring as he swept his bangs off his forehead momentarily. You tore your eyes from him as you noticed the cigarette balanced behind his ear. Even with the seat between the two, you could smell the smoke on his clothes mixing with the faintest hint of vanilla.
You folded your hands in your lap as you noticed him give you a once over. He reached towards you, making you flinch slightly before you realized he was holding out his bag of candy to you. “Want a jellybean? You look upset,” he motioned, voice low as he whispered.
You shook your head quickly, muttering a thank you and playing with your fingers. He shrugged, watching you for a second more before turning back to the movie. He tucked his arm behind his head, chewing on his lip as if debating whether he should keep talking to you or just let you be. You weren’t really sure which outcome you preferred.
On one hand, he fit every one of your guilty pleasure fantasies, while on the other, he terrified the hell out of you. It was more of an intimidating feeling, residing in the way each of his movements caught your attention and the way you could barely keep your eyes off his grungy appearance. Your mind drifted from the plot of the movie and towards the images of his tattooed hands wrapping around your throat and giving you a reason to be scared.
“You here alone?” He asked, popping another jellybean in his mouth. The action made you think of your grandpa waning himself off of tobacco when you were younger. Those jellybeans were blue and a flavor of comfort for you now, while the man before you seemed to only fish for the red ones.
You nodded hesitantly. “I got stood up,” you mumbled, making him shake his softly. “What about you? Are you here alone?” You wondered where you had gathered the courage to talk to him, his demeanor making you want to run, but his voice was a symphony to your ears in the darkness of the movie house, drawing you closer with each of his lulling words.
He wet his lips. “So far,” he answered. He stuck out his large hand for you to shake, his skin was coarse against yours as his finger reached to brush against your wrist. “I’m Clay,” he added, his name rolling into your mind and nestling itself into your memory just due to the tone of his voice. After you gave him your name his mouth curled into a soft smirk. “It’s nice to meet you,” he remarked. You blushed for an unknown reason, thankful for the darkness to mask your emotions.
Someone entered the theatre, marching up to Clay and leaning down to his ear. “Dream, we have to go now,” the guy whispered into his ear, just loud enough that you could hear him. Clay's face twisted into an annoyed expression while the guy turned to leave.
Clay straightened his jacket on his shoulders. “Not to seem to forward, but can I get your number?” He queried. You raised your eyebrows at him, basking in the fact that despite his friend’s agitation, Clay was taking his sweet time making his move on you.
As if you were acting on instinct, you grabbed a pen from your bag as he held his hand out to you again. You found a bare spot on his skin and wrote your number as clearly as you could manage with your shaking hands at the way his eyes watched you alluringly. Without thinking, you blew on the ink, trying to keep it from smearing. You froze, realizing what you were doing as he bit back a smirk.
He was completely eating up your awkwardness.
He reluctantly took his hand back, being pulled up by his friend. “I’ll call you,” he whispered on his way out, heat rushing to your ears.
The movie ended shortly after he left, sending you back out onto the city streets and away from your cocoon where you had forgotten about the sleazy classmate and let thoughts of Clay weasel their way into your nerves. As you stepped through the doors, your phone began to ring, kick-starting your heart at the thought of it being Clay. Instead, it was a friend of yours asking how your date had gone. You tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you pulled a piece of gum out of your purse.
Her ramblings went deaf on your ears as a car violently pulled up to an alleyway a block from you. You squinted as you moved closer, your apartment being in that direction anyway. A few men got from the car and that’s when Clay stepped into view from behind one of the buildings, flicking his cigarette to the ground and snubbing it out with the toe of his heavy boots as he watched them get out. You could see your number still written on his hand, mixing with his tattoos.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking tiredly at the group of men that had come from the car as his friends began to shout at them. Clay chewed on his lip, looking around and away from the conversation before his gaze met yours. His eyes widened slightly before he turned back, an attempt to keep the attention away from you.
One of the car members grabbed for Clay’s jacket, yanking him closer as if to get him to pay mind to the man talking. Clay sent him a cocky grin, towering over him. With his normal height and his boots, he had at least a foot on the guy. One of Clay’s friends separated the two, breaking the groups into a brawl while shouting was accompanied with fists and elbow jabs.
You turned, walking in another direction as briskly as you could without bringing attention to yourself and the group of boys in the alleyway. Little did you know, Clay was watching you leave and kicking himself for it.
The next day, your mind was racing with Clay’s whereabouts. He seemed like he had his opponents under control, but what if one of them had brought a knife or another weapon? It wasn’t unusual for boys in the city to butt heads like they were, but the fact that you’d let one nearly pick you up the night before was boggling.
You gripped the strap of your bag as you crossed the street, stepping onto the sidewalk and adjusting your skirt. You kept your head down as you passed various people coming and going from their apartments before your ears picked up on a familiar voice. You picked your eyes up, spotting Clay and a small group of guys walking together. He popped a jellybean in his mouth after chiming into their conversation.
You held your breath as they neared you and that’s when you noticed his bruised face and scraped knuckles. Your number was faded on his skin, but still apparent on the back of his hand. He smiled at you, breaking off from his group and walking backward to match your pace. You bit back a smile. “Glad to see you’re okay,” you mumbled, barely able to make eye contact with him. His friends called out for him and he waved them off, walking in line with you.
He chuckled lightly. “Yeah, sorry. I would have called last night but…” he made a gesture to his torso as he trailed off. “I broke a rib. I didn’t really… I don’t.” He laughed sheepishly as you raised your eyebrows. “I’m fine. It’s good,” he brushed.
You picked your gaze off the pavement finally, focusing on his discolored black eye and busted lip. He didn’t seem to be too hurt, but he wore his wounds well. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” He asked, voice changing slightly. You drew in a sharp breath, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before it could get further knotted in the wind. A few people narrowed their eyes at the two of you and you wondered how you looked together. What kind of juxtaposition it was; his tall, dark figure looking like death in Doc Martens while you barely passed his shoulder in height with your less intimidating color scheme.
You debated how to answer him. Your eyes flickered to his dangly earring; a silver ankh. He ate another jellybean. “I was at first. I’m still kind of weary of you, I guess,” you muttered, making a smile bite into his features.
Clay ran his fingers through his hair, which you were beginning to believe was a habit when he was coming up with what to say. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
You shook your head. A blush crept to your cheeks. “No, I kind of like it,” you mumbled, barely audible enough for him to hear. His hand slipped into yours and you could feel your chest tighten.
“You like being scared of me?” His voice was dripping with allure, making you bite your tongue in a flushed embarrassment. “You just keep getting better and better,” he teased, making your ears burn.
You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but God, were you thankful for Clay’s hands as they kneaded your ass, his lips pressing against yours. He ground his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth as your nails sank into his tattooed skin. His tongue pressed past your lips, his large hand moving to fist in the sheets beside you before dragging up your shirt to grip your breast.
You breathlessly moaned as he broke your kiss, lips trailing down your body as he sat back on his knees, dragging your underwear off as your shirt was also discarded to the floor. He looped his arms around your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth as his concentrated stare shifted to your eyes before he buried himself between your legs, your body tensing as a groan ripped through your body. Your fingers carded through his soft blond hair, tugging slightly in appraisal as he pulled away from you.
Clay looked up at you again, slowly pressing one of his long fingers into you, you moaned his name, reaching one of your hands up to grip at the headboard above you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, voice deep with lust as his breath fanned against your wet core. He pushed another finger into you as you nodded. He pressed his lips to your thigh. “I can’t believe you’re scared of me,” he mocked, making you whimper as his fingers pulsed against your sweet spot.
He pressed his lips to your core again, tongue teasing at your nerves as you caught your lips between your teeth. You moved your knee further up his arm for a better angle, driving him deeper. He pulled away, his fingers speeding up. “So needy,” he chuckled, the sound enough to send you over the edge if you really thought about it.
“Clay, please. I want you,” you whined softly, your thighs threatening to close around his head. His eyes sparkled devilishly, leaning away from you before tugging your legs towards him. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, jaw tensing as you moaned around him.
He grabbed your hips, flipping your body and pushing your shoulders into the mattress. You heard him unbuckling his belt and your fingers knitted into the sheets beneath you. He pulled you back by the shoulders, hand moving to hold onto your neck. “Maybe I should give you something to be scared of,” he chided, making a shiver run up your spine as he pushed your thighs apart driving himself up into you. You were sure you would tear in half at the sheer size of him, but you bit back your whimpers at the pleasuring pain.
One of your hands moved to grip onto his arm as he thrust into you, his teeth threatening to dig into your shoulder as you moaned. His other hand moved to tease at your nerves, his determination to summon your orgasm sending your head reeling. You tilted back your head, resting against his shoulder as his hand tightened around your throat.
He let go of you, dipping you against the mattress again as his fist knotted in your hair. He steadied himself, leaning on one of his arms beside your head. Your hand wrapped around his wrist as he thrusted into you at an ungodly pace, lips hovering beside your ear as he grunted your name and how good you felt.
You pushed your hips up against him turning your head enough that he pressed his lips against yours, the vibrations from his moans sending heat throughout your body. Clay’s tongue slipped into your mouth roughly, tasting your whimpers and lust. His teeth dragged against your lip as you felt him throb inside of you.
He pushed your shoulder back, moving you on your side as your leg curled around. At the new angle, he could drive himself deeper into you; dark green eyes focused on yours as his warmed breath cascaded over your chest. His hand moved to your jaw, running his thumb against your burning lips as his sights were almost hungrily looking upon you. Your breathing became shallow as he smirked at you, moving his hand to your throat again.
He leaned down, slowing his pace to drag in and out of you as his lips were close to your ear. He applied pressure, your breath hitching in your throat. “So pretty. Good girl, taking me so well,” he praised, making you moan as he kissed you again before speeding up his thrusts. You moaned out his name again, finishing as your eyes fluttered shut. He chuckled darkly, pounding into you harder. “Fuck,” he hissed, lips pressing to the skin behind your ears, digging his face into your hair as he chased his high.
He exhaled, breath blanketing your skin before he kissed your shoulder, cheek, and finally your lips in a quiet appraisal. You pulled him into the spot beside you. He ran his fingers through his hair as you curled against his side, his other hand brushing softly against your arm. You knotted your fingers with his, brushing your thumb against where your faded number rested. “Didn’t you just break a rib?” You asked, finally noticing the slide bruising on his side.
Clay chuckled softly. “Yeah, I think I was running on adrenaline until a second ago,” he groaned.
Tumblr media
Dream Tag List: (to join, follow this link :))
@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake
2K notes · View notes
blubagel · a month ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
<< Nothing on my mind… just tying Xiao up and teasing him ♡ >>
Maybe blind fold him and hand cuff him to the bed. While your running your soft hands over his body while watching him squirm and whine.
degrading, bondage, gagging (not proofread)
Tumblr media
“You— have no respect f-for the adepti!” He yelled out. Both of his wrists were stuck on the metal headboard while his attempts of getting rid of the handcuffs were futile. He was half naked. His shirt looked like it had been ripped apart. Some of the white colored strings hanging over the edges, while his pants had formed a tent shape bulge. What’s worse is that he couldn’t see a thing. A black blind fold was covering his field of vision.
This could’ve been a normal day for Xiao, but oh no. You just had to tell him your horny and here he is. Trembling by your touch over his delicate skin. Restrained, and weak just where you wanted him.
“I’m not here to give out respect.” You said. Sitting on his lap with your legs spread on both sides of his waist. You used your hand to push his head to the side, exposing his bare neck to you. “I’m doing this to satisfy myself. Staying still would make this so much easier.”
You started by sliding your tongue over his adams apple. You hands were tangled in his emerald locks you pulled his hair making him throw his head back with a heavy groan. You could hear his whimpers and sighs while you feast on his neck. Leaving dark bruises all over his sensitive spots. You reached his chest and massaged his toned body, he felt you caress his tattooed arm. You softly grind on his crotch teasing his own boner making you chuckle.
Xiao’s noises kept his mouth open so he had a line of saliva running down his chin. He hates this. He hates becoming weak under your touch. He hates wanting to be free and touch you himself. He hates that he wants you to jump on his dick so bad. The slight tent shape in his crotch had gotten larger, that you could practically feel it under your clothed cunt. You only smiled at him. “You’re gonna have to wait for a few minutes. I’m only getting started.”
You got off of his lap and neck. The cold air had rushed past his neck making him shiver. His eyes were still covered with the blind fold, so it was difficult to find out what you had planned next for him. He felt you unzip his pants making his cock spring lose. He was so hard and practically dripping right now. Feeling a hand around his cock, he threw his head back with a moan. He started to sweat making his bangs stick to the side of his face.
“(Y-Y/N)…Fuck.” Xiao begged for you to touch him. Your hand started sliding in an up and down motion before taking him in your mouth.
Xiao made such lewd sounds in the bed room! You were absolutely pleased to hear him. Maybe you should do this more often. Tie him up and making him beg sounded a lot more delightful then just fucking him straight away. He felt your warm wet tongue touch the veins of his cock making him push his hips to fully take him in. The tip hit the back of your throat making you gag in surprise. You closed your eyes and continued your work. Xiao’s hands were moving around so much that he was probably sure that he’d break the hand cuffs.
You noticed his moans getting louder and his sudden movements which signaled you that he was about to climax. “Cum… I need to—”
You removed your mouth from him. Only leaving the cool air rush over him. He gasped and formed a desperate expression. “Wait!— No! Please I need to cum!” He wailed. Begging for him to release. Instead you pushed your panties aside and pushed yourself on his cock. You tight hole around him perfectly, more sweat was already forming on his forehead.
Xiao’s body was moving with yours as you bent over to capture his lips while moving your hips forward and backward, taking him in, moving out then repeating the process. You watched him moan and groan with every movement you made. Doing this a few times had made him finally reach his climax so you quickly got off of him and saw him release. You held on to Xiao’s chest for support while rubbing his tip through your cum covered cunt. You took his blind fold off, blinking a few times to get used to finally seeing you.
“We should do this more often. Yeah?”
Tumblr media
497 notes · View notes
divine-mistake · 6 months ago
there is comfort in this cage, to kiss you the way you visit my mind
Summary: His eyes, intense and icy blue, pierce yours through the reflection. “You own me, my love,” he says, but the smoldering look he gives you leaves you weak and wanting. “I am but yours to command.”
Characters: Loki/(f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ (smut), strong language, soft sub!Loki, porn without plot, vaginal penetration, face-sitting, woman riding, body worship, a hint of angst but mostly just sin, Loki is still a Dom in the end, established relationship
Word Count: 4616
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I really like the idea that Loki views submission as a form of trust and devotion, and while he isn't much of a switch, he would allow the reader to command him in order to prove his love of her. Born of trauma? Probably, but it's something I definitely had fun exploring for him. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
main masterlist | AO3
“I have kneeled to no one,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the delicate skin. Shivers wrack down your spine, igniting goosebumps in trails down your bare arms. “But for you, darling? For you, I would do anything.”
You aren’t sure if it’s his words or if it’s the shelter his hands provide that brings heat to your face as he finds the curve of your waist, palms resigned to their fate at the flare of your hip where his fingers spin silk out of your skin. The fine hairs there raise—his touch like static.
His nose draws a line down your neck, tracing the tendon there. “I think you quite like that idea, my love.”
“What?” you manage to say between breaths as Loki’s lips, soft and cool against your warm skin, meeting the juncture of your shoulder where he’s tattooed bites and bruises before. His teeth plunge into your flesh, your head rolling back until Loki catches it in his hand, fingers digging into your scalp for a moment too long before he releases.
His tongue soothes the wound. “The idea that you could control me. That you could command me to kneel at your feet and I would kiss them. That you hold a power over me that stretches beyond sex, beyond love, beyond souls.”
Blunt nails nearly piercing your jaw, Loki turns your head until you face the mirror, forcing you to look. You look positively ravaged and yet all your clothes are still on—your body draped over him like a heavy curtain, knees turned in and barely holding your weight. One of Loki’s arms holds your waist, propping you up against him, your toes grazing the carpeted floor.
His eyes, intense and icy blue, pierce yours through the reflection. “You own me, my love,” he says, but the smoldering look he gives you leaves you weak and wanting. “I am but yours to command.”
You suck in a gasp, trying to twist in his hold to face him, but Loki refuses to let you.
“Command?” You stumble over the word, blinking slowly, lashes heavy. “What—What do you mean?”
“Tell me, darling,” he whispers. “I belong to no one else, and will not cede to anyone like this but you. So tell me. Command me,” he urges, softer this time.
Your words are shaky. “Prove it.”
And, as though you cast magic upon him, Loki’s fingers ease their grasp on your face and he relaxes his grip on your waist. He helps you balance on your feet once more, and then he curves his body around yours to stand in front of the mirror. There, his eyes never leaving yours once, Loki sinks to the floor on his knees.
It’s a heady feeling, you realize—looking down the slope of your nose at a God bowed at your feet. His inky hair falls in waves around his shoulders and you want to wrap your hand in it and pull it back. Instead, you inhale, trembling.
“Touch me,” you say, but it comes out in a wisp of a word.
“Again,” Loki encourages. “With more conviction, my love. With confidence in the bond we share.”
You roll your shoulders back, shuddering another breath. “Touch me. Touch my legs. Show me how much you love them.”
Loki answers with his hands. His palms first, as he grasps your ankles with a gentle grace and slides upward. His fingers then, tracing the muscle of your calves until he finds the thread of veins behind the backs of your knees, huffing a laugh when you twitch from the sensation. His nails last, as he clutches at the soft flesh of your thighs and drags them down the backs. You nearly lose your balance at the feeling, but Loki wraps his arms around your bottom half and holds you steady.
From there, he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips that sends a fire rippling through you. That same mouth is incredibly close to your clothed cunt, and now you wish, more than anything, that your clothes were off.
But first, you want his gone—a tactic he uses all too often with you.
“Stand up,” you tell him, and in an instant he rises. He’s too tall, towering above you, and you choose not to tip your chin upward to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on his pants, gesturing to them. “Strip. Everything.”
“As you wish,” he murmurs with a soft smile. Loki finds the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, mussing his curls, revealing the hard, lean plates of his pale chest that you long to run your hands over. Then, he shoves the waistband of his sweat pants down and over his trim hips, letting the material fall to the floor before stepping out of them and throwing them somewhere around the room.
“Everything,” you remind him, eyeing his black boxers. A grin splits his lips and Loki slowly peels his underwear off, your gaze following the trail of soft hair leading from his belly button as he soon exposes the defined angle of his pelvis, before finally—finally—his hard cock springs forth and his boxers drop.
Loki looks like a marble statue, a David carved from stone. Everything in you wants to bend to his will instead, to touch him and worship him the way that he deserves. To love him the way he deserves, the love he has gone without for so long. But part of you understands that he needs this just as much as he needs you when you submit to him.
He needs to bow to you. To show you that he trusts you the way that you trust him.
“You’re beautiful,” you say in a breath, eyes roaming the sharp lines that define the man in front of you, the discolored scars littering his body like a battlefield. “You’re so gorgeous, Loki. I love you so much.”
And, it’s so slight that you almost wouldn’t notice it in the darkness of the room, but Loki’s cheeks pinken under your praise. Confidence, cool like the rush of fresh water, surges through you.
“Come here,” you beckon him, holding your hand out to cup his face once he steps closer. Loki leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering shut. “Kneel,” you whisper.
You don’t watch him this time, busy with shucking your shirt off and throwing it across the room, leaving you only in your lacy bra and a pair of sleep shorts. Then, you reach down, holding out a hand, and he intertwines your fingers. With him steadying you, you lift your foot up and point it toward him—a silent command.
Loki takes your foot in his hand and presses his lips to the top of it, flicking his eyes upward to meet your steady gaze.
Beyond sex. Beyond love. Beyond souls. An unbreakable bond.
“Undress me.”
When he’s sure you have your footing once more, Loki wastes no time. His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts and tug them down, forehead laying against your stomach as he breathes in the scent of your arousal. As he drags the fabric down, stripping you, his hands worship your legs once more. His fingers are soft as he grasps each of your ankles and helps you out of your bottoms. You unclasp your bra, too impatient to wait, and fling it off.
Now, completely bare, you can feel your slick when your thighs press together. Sticky, sweet, drenched. And you want him, you want him so bad, and you want everything.
But you don’t know—you don’t know what you want.
“I—Loki,” you stutter out, frozen. Suddenly, your nerves are static and itching with new anxiety. A flush floods your face, not in passion, but embarrassment. You didn’t think this far ahead. There is so much choice in front of you and what if you mess up?
But he senses this, evidently, and Loki’s hands slide up your hips to hold onto your waist, squeezing you there gently. His thumbs rub slow circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you.
“Darling,” he speaks lowly, “what do you want from me? Would you like me to pleasure you? Or take you to bed?”
You swallow. “Yes.”
He nuzzles the soft flesh of your stomach, always patient with you. “What would you like, love? Your wish is my command. Your command is mine to follow.”
Suddenly, you catch your own image in the mirror. It’s so starkly different from the other times that you’ve seen yourself in this same reflection. Loki has put you in many positions before, but none of them have looked like this. You, standing steadily, with Loki knelt in front of you, the muscles of his back rippling in the mirror. The curve of his ass, the strong tendons in his thighs.
Closing your eyes and committing the image to memory, you take a deep breath through your nose and exhale through parted lips, calming yourself again.
“I want you to pleasure me,” you say, voice a little unsteady again, but Loki smiles up at you.
“Of course, my goddess.” But he makes no move, and it dawns on you that your command was unfinished.
“Your mouth,” you tell him. “Use your mouth on me, Loki.”
Silently, he takes your hand in his, and you grip onto him tightly. It’s such a small gesture, and yet so overwhelming—that he knows he needs to hold you there when your knees become weak. It’s clear how much he adores you, and it brings the sting of tears to your eyes that you blink back.
Loki eases your thigh over his shoulder, spreading your cunt so wantonly for him, and then his tongue is devouring it all. He licks up every ounce of your wetness until you don’t know what is slick and what is saliva. Already your knees buckle at the feeling as your head drops back, and Loki wraps his arm around the small of your back to hold you there.
You moan his name and your free hand tangles in his long locks, gripping his curls like they’re the reins to the beast who feasts upon your core. His mouth is magic, his tongue busy writing poetry addressed to your clit while his fingers squeeze tighter around your own. Everything feels off balance as you stand there, eyes hazy and half-lidded, watching as the God between your legs seeks to destroy you in the throes of pleasure. The leg that you stand on trembles, weak.
“Take me to bed,” you command, and though your voice is breathy with a moan, it’s stronger than anything else you’ve told him to do tonight. Loki immediately answers your call. Not even taking his mouth away from your cunt, he pulls his hand away from yours to scoop you up into his arms, and then your back is against the bed, twisting the sheets beneath you, and oh, oh, oh, his shoulders have spread your legs wider for him and his nose is bumping your clit as he fucks into your tight hole, your spine arched in immeasurable delights.
But your eyes snap open with a new idea—one that makes your face even hotter if that’s possible, and your thighs squeeze around Loki’s head in anticipation.
“Wait,” you pant out, pulling his head back by his raven locks and forcing him to release you. “Stop.”
When he comes up for air, his eyes are glistening as much as his lips are, covered in the honey he’s sucked from your center. The same tongue that was ravaging you only seconds ago darts out to clean his lips of your essence, a low groan in his chest at the taste. Your grip on his hair tightens at the sight as a new flood of juice slickens your pussy yet again and Loki hisses in pleasure.
“Yes, my queen?” he asks, his hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as he waits. He seems all too content that you’ve assumed such control over him, but even so, the thread of anxiety is still tugging at your stomach and you swallow back the fear you think might seep into your next words.
“I want to try something,” you say, fingers finally untangling from his hair.
“I would have you want for nothing,” he says, crawling up your body to come closer to you. “What shall I give you, my goddess?”
“Lay back,” you tell him, but the shake is back. “I want to—to—”
Loki’s hands frame your face and he brings your lips to his own, kissing you sweetly. Your own taste invades your mouth as his tongue sweeps inside, and then he’s pulling away and his thumb is rubbing the bone of your cheek.
“Say it,” he says, and it’s the softest demand you think you’ve ever heard from him.
“I want to ride your face,” you whisper, and your hand comes up to sweep over his throat, fingers smoothing over his adam’s apple as it bobs. “I want you to make me come like that.”
Without word, Loki lays back and takes you with him, flipping you both. Suddenly you’re on top—a position that you’ve not spent as much time in—with your thighs bracketing his trim waist and your hands on his chest. You don’t wait for his approval this time. Immediately, you start to shift forward, Loki’s hands on your hips to help you, until you are on your knees right above his face. Your own hands grip the headboard of the bed, using the leverage to keep your balance.
“Sit here, darling,” Loki says and the breath of his words is warm on your quivering cunt. “My face is but a throne for you. Take it—please.”
Please. The word shocks you into shivers, a gasp pulled from your mouth like there’s something magnetic in the air, and you sink down upon his lips. And, like a wild animal thrown its first bone, Loki’s hands clutch at your waist until there are sure to be bruises and he yanks you down further, until there’s no space between the two of you, until he’s surely inhaling nothing but you.
“Loki!” you call out, first in anxiety, and then in pure pleasure as his tongue delves further into your pussy. Your mind darkens, blanking, void of anything except Loki, Loki, Loki. Your grip on the headboard tightens, nails scratching invisible grooves into the wood as you cling desperately onto whatever you can as Loki works your clit over and over and over until you’re frenzied.
Your hips move on their own, grinding and rolling over his face like ocean waves looking to crash upon the beach, to meet their end. And, as his lips find your clit and create a wet seal around it, sucking and licking and guiding you higher and higher and higher toward your peak, Loki provides.
With a sob that sounds like choked-off letters of his name, you come with rapture. Your body arches, head thrown back, thighs clenched around Loki’s head. Using all your strength, you try to lift yourself away from his face, but Loki’s arm becomes a bar around your waist and he wrenches you back down and licks up every single drop of the honey that leaks from your throbbing cunt.
“Loki,” you cry again, near a whimper, and then he’s pulling away from the apex of your thighs and easing you down his body until you’re collapsed against his chest. Through the haze of your post-orgasmic bliss, you watch his eyes as they explore your spent body, raking over your entire form.
“You are gorgeous,” he murmurs, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Sometimes, I do not understand it.”
“Understand what?” you ask, still breathless, still reeling, still burning at the core.
His eyes are heavy when he meets your eyes. “How you have captured me so and yet you do not see it. You could run at any moment and I would be helpless, unable to give chase, though I would be desperate to do so. At times, I think you should. And in those times, I wonder if it is monstrous of me to think that if you did leave, that I would not be able to sleep or eat or breathe until I went after you and begged at your feet for you to come back.”
It’s a punch to the gut—all your insides freezing, frosted edges sharp and jabbing painfully into your soft belly. Immediately, you shoot up, hands braced against his hardened abdomen to look at him more clearly. Yes, the eyes that you love so much are so sad right now. He reminds you of the scared little boy you first saw in him when he came to Midgard with his brother. Terrified and alone and misunderstood. It hurts to see that again, his eyes like the dark depths of the ocean, unexplored and teeming with the monsters only heard of by the dead they’ve ravaged.
“You think I would let you leave?” you ask him, jaw loose and lips parted. Loki blinks, brows drawn together in confusion. “You say I don’t see how I’ve captured you, but you don’t see the same.”
As if you can pour all your feelings for him into one kiss, you smash your lips to his in a bruising kiss, something you aren’t used to initiating. You nip at his bottom lip, slip your tongue into his mouth, taste yourself on the tongue that tangles with your own.
“You haven’t captured me, Loki,” you say against his mouth. “I wouldn’t run if you gave me the chance. I’m not with you because you’ve caged me.”
You rock onto your knees and reach behind your back, fingers brushing over his cock that is still hard against his stomach. When you take it into your palm, gripping the velvet skin, Loki’s head falls back and he groans. In one swift movement, your wet heat envelops him as you sink down upon his cock, gasping. There, you sit atop him, your juice pooling in the finely-groomed hairs at the base of him.
Loki makes a sound you’ve never heard before—a cross between a moan and a guttural growl—as you rock back to grasp his thighs like a handle. You watch with fascination how his throat moves as he swallows, giving away how much your cunt swallowing his cock affects him.
“I’m with you because I love you,” you pant, breathless. “Because I chose you, Loki. I choose you. I want you—every part of you that exists. The good, the bad, the broken. I own you. I own you the same way you own those parts of me, and happily.”
When you smile down at him, you realize that Loki is looking at you as if dumbstruck. As if lightning has just rained down from the ceiling and shocked him speechless. He raises a hand toward you, fluttering and trembling anxiously, and it falls upon your cheek. You lean into his touch, lips peeled back and curled to show your teeth as you laugh a little.
“You are…” He struggles to find the words as his other hand falls to your bare hip. “You are the rarest thing in all the galaxies that might exist.”
And, like that, the air in the room shifts and Loki’s fingers find purchase in your soft flesh and he bucks up, suddenly and deliciously.
“And yet,” you say between gasps, “you are the one who keeps me. The only one allowed to ruin me.”
Loki’s hand caresses down your jaw until it falls at your throat, fingers splayed out in dominance there, a necklace made of bones and skin and him. A darkness consumes his eyes, pupils gone wide with a new sort of lust that wasn’t there before.
“Then ruin you I shall, love.”
He plants his feet on the bed, shifting you forward until you have nothing left to hold onto, and then he’s fucking up into you. Loki sets a pace that is punishing, bouncing you up and down as stuttered moans fall from your lips like broken prayers to his altar. He is your God and you’ll scream his name to the heavens until his father hears it in Valhalla.
Loki’s fingers tighten around your neck now, not squeezing, but holding you there against him as his cock pistons in and out of your tight pussy wet with its own slick. Like this, he reaches parts so deep inside of you they’ve been all but forgotten, the tip scraping against the one place that makes your eyes roll back into your head. From the way his hips force you to rock back and forth, your clit grinds and drags on the bone of his pelvis, creating a friction you didn’t know you needed until right now.
“I have kneeled to no one,” Loki repeats, desperate and gritty, in your ear, “but now I have kneeled to you, my queen.”
His cock slips in and out of you at a pace you can’t keep up with. You’re unable to do anything but to sit atop him and take it, bent nearly in half as he breaks your body with his thrusts.
“I have kissed your feet the way I have kissed the most precious parts of you,” he says, and his hand travels from your neck up into your hair to force your lips to his, a demonstration. His tongue is everywhere and the kiss is sloppy, spit-filled, and your bottom lip is bleeding when you pull back from lack of air.
Your cunt throbs and contracts around him, calling out, clenching, needy. You feel it in your muscles, in your bones, in every part of you that Loki owns—the threads of your existence unraveling into what will be your end.
“No one else has this power over me. I would trust no one else the way I have trusted you, and yet you will still let me ruin you in the same way?”
With your head thrown back, your pleasure rising and rising and rising, you scratch your nails down his chest until red lines decorate his pale skin.
“I was ruined the moment I met you,” you sob out, nearly there. “You ruined me, Loki, and I would let you do it again. I would beg you. Please, please ruin me!”
He hisses as you tighten around him, climbing toward the highest peak. His hands find your waist, tight around you, and he helps you to meet the powerful thrust of his hips. You scream aloud as his cock hammers against your insides, filling you, satiating you until it’s almost too much that it’s not enough, giving you everything you ever could have asked for.
“Beg for me,” Loki snarls. “Beg for me the way that I beg for you in every single way!”
“Please, please, please,” you repeat like a mantra, never-ending, punctuated by the head of his cock brushing your cervix.
And just as you hit the highest note of the heavens, Loki’s last words surround you like a wave crashing over your head.
“Ruining you is my greatest delight.”
Your vision goes white as you go under, back snapped in an impossible curve, lips parted in a scream that you don’t hear as the orgasm washes over you like cool water. Your thighs tremble as honey gushes from the crevice that Loki fucks into, tainting your ruined pussy with his spend as he stuffs you full.
“I love you,” he whispers as you collapse atop him, sweat matting your hair to your forehead. You lay there, catching your breath, as the waves of your orgasm roll through you, making you clench around his cock, still inside you. Loki hisses in delayed pleasure, but he wraps you up in his arms and refuses to pull out of you, even as the mixture of your come seeps out around him.
“I love you,” you reply in a mumble, barely coherent. He chuckles at this, petting your hair as you wind down.
It’s finally quiet in your bedroom, no sound but the labored breath that comes from your as you try to calm your racing heart. Loki is unbothered, barely having broken a sweat, but his eyes are glassy and there is a loopy smile on his face that is reserved only for you in these times, and it makes your heart feel full.
“Do you truly beg for me?” you ask him, a finger tracing designs into his naked chest.
“Indeed,” he replies, staring up at the ceiling. “In less vocal ways, I do.”
“Oh,” you say, burrowing your face into his skin. He huffs a laugh and you feel it rumble through his body.
“While you may show devotion like this, in begging for your own ruination, I beg for you in other ways. How I seek you out first in whatever room I may walk into, despite knowing that you may not be there. Or how I ask for you to clean my wounds, to bandage me after battle. This is how I beg for you, darling.”
When you raise your head to look at him, Loki takes your head to guide you to him and captures your lips in his, a promise. A vow of honesty.
“However,” he continues, “I wanted to bow to you like this tonight. I wanted to beg for you in the way you so often beg for me. Devotion through submission.”
“I know,” you say, choking on the words. “You were beautiful. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for… letting me try.”
He smiles. “You need not thank me. As I said, love, this power that you hold over me stretches beyond the simple act of sex. We have a bond that is written in the stars, forged into a constellation, darling. I would give you anything if only you asked for it—and my submission, giving up my control to you, is but one of those things.”
Your fingers slide over his jawline, tracing the angle of his face. Then, you brush his hair away from where it lays at his forehead, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“I would give my life for you,” he says as if it was a simple thing. “I would break my soul apart for you.”
“And I would die with you,” you tell him firmly, cupping his cheek. “So don’t—don’t leave me, Loki.”
He inhales, shakily, and then rocks his hips into yours again. You squeak in pleasure, still sensitive from your first orgasms, and then a giggle falls from your lips as you feel him stiffening inside of you.
“Again?” you tease, flicking his nose. Loki’s face morphs from pensive into something all too mischievous.
“Well, when you speak of dying for me, love, you know it turns me on.”
Loki grasps your hips and lifts you, pulling out of your spent cunt, and then he’s twisting your bodies until you’re set on your hands and knees and he’s behind you, palming the cheek of your ass. Already you can feel the apex of your thighs slicken further, your core burning for his attention yet again.
“Plus,” he murmurs into your ear, teeth tugging on the lobe until you whimper, “I feel I haven’t ruined you enough yet. And you begged so prettily for it. Who am I to deny you, love? I promised you would want for nothing.”
2K notes · View notes
duskholland · 6 months ago
Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut
Tumblr media
tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date.            or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.
word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact.  a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels​ for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3  +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!
nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot. 
✧ *:・゚Stuck With(out) You・゚:*✧
There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.
He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?
You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.
You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.
He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.
“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”
You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.
You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.
The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.
“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.
Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”
Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”
“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”
A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”
“At home?”
Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.
“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.
“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”
Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”
The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.
“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.
“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”
“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”
“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”
If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.
“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”
Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”
You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.
“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”
Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”
“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”
“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”
“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”
“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”
You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.
“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”
His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”
You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”
“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”
Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.
“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”
Tom bites his lip.
He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.
Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.
“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”
You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”
He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.
“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”
The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.
You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.
Tom slows down the car.
“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”
He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.
“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”
“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”
“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”
His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.
“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”
You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.
The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.
Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.
When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.
It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.
He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.
Five years. He’s charged with five years.
Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.
The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.
Two weeks pass achingly slowly.
Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.
“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”
Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.
He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.
“Step away from the door.”
Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.
In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.
“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”
“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.
Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.
“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.
Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”
“She’s doing very well, thank you.”
The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”
“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”
Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”
“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”
He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”
Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”
“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”
It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.
They reach the gym.
Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.
He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.
“Holland. Time to go.”
He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.
“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”
Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”
“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”
He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.
“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.
It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.
He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.
He finds a note attached at the bottom.
Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3
As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.
The seed of doubt burns away.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.
The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.
Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.
You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.
You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.
As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—
Fuck, it’s been a long time.
“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.
“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”
He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”
You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”
Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”
“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”
He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”
Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”
“Thanks, lovie.”
Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.
“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”
Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”
“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”
“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”
You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”
He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”
You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”
It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.
“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”
You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”
He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”
Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.
“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.
Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”
He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.
The visit is over far too soon.
Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.
“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”
Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A few days later, Tom snaps.
To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.
It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.
It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.
“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”
Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.
“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.
“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”
The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”
“Thanks, man.”
Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.
“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.
“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”
Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.
The prison guards don’t agree.
He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.
It’s still worth it.
When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.
The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.
“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”
Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”
He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”
“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”
Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.
“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”
Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”
“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”
He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.
“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”
“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”
“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”
The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.
“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”
Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”
Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”
“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”
He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”
Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”
He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”
Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”
Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”
The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.
“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”
It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.
“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”
Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”
Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.
Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.
You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.
You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.
Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.
He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.
You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…
The baby.
You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.
You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.
Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.
Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.
Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.
Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.
It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.
Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.
All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.
“Y/N? Where are you?”
Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.
“In here, Sam.”
A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.
“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”
“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”
Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”
Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”
“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”
“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”
Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”
Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”
“Fuck off.”
Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”
Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”
The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.
“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.
Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”
Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”
Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.
No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.
Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.
“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.
“Nursery,” Harry calls out.
A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.
A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.
“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.
You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.
Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”
Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”
The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”
Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”
“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”
“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”
“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”
You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”
Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”
Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”
“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”
“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.
A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.
It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.
As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.
Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.
Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.
He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.
Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.
The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.
“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”
You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.
“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.
“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”
He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.
“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”
Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.
“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”
Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”
A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.
“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”
Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.
“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”
“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”
“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”
Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.
“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”
Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”
Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.
He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.
“When was this?” he whispers.
“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”
You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”
Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”
A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”
“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”
Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”
“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.
“So it’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”
“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”
Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”
“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”
Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.
“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.
Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.
“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”
Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.
“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”
Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”
The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”
Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”
Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”
Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”
“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.
“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.
You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.
“I really don’t,” you agree.
Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.
You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.
“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”
“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”
He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.
“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.
“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.
Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.
“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”
Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.
“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”
“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”
The air between you shifts.
You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.
“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”
Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”
“What have you got planned?”
He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.
“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.
“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”
You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.
Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.
“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”
“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”
Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”
“Please do.”
The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”
You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”
“Say please.”
Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”
“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”
He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”
He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”
The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.
The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.
“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”
Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.
“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”
Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”
Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”
He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.
“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”
Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.
“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”
Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”
The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.
You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.
“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.
Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.
“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”
You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.
“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”
Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.
“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.
“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”
You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”
“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”
You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”
“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.
Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.
The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.
“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”
You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”
“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”
“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”
Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.
“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”
Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”
“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”
Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.
It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.
“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”
You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”
Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.
“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”
He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”
Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”
Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much
please let me know if you have any thoughts!!
masterlist through the link in my bio <3
1K notes · View notes
nekomasmeow · 6 months ago
your mafia hc scenario was amazing i’m a sucker for stone cold leaders but soft for their soft s/o. can i get a mafia leader with Suna, Akaashi, and Oikawa pls with their calm s/o
Tumblr media
He was cold per say, but not like super cold that you felt uncomfortable approaching him
Suna was someone who regularly came into your flower shop
his mafia ran a tattoo shop not far from your shop
you regularly saw him enter when you were opening up and setting flowers out
He always seemed to watch you, like a cat watching it's prey and it freaked you out to a certain point
You never said anything to them because you didn't feel like being in their line of sight
but sadly you became suna's line of sight the moment he saw you
he rarely came into the shop because he loved to avoid work and pushed it all onto the twins
but one morning he did come in and saw you, and that was it
he came to the store everyday and Kita didn't have to yell at him anymore
of course one day you were sick and Suna didn't see you and he refused to let it go
he didn't know you were sick and started to look around and easily found your address
hearing a knock at your door had you super confused as you sluggishly opened it
this cold was kicking your ass that even blinking was exhausting
when you see who's at the door you felt like you had died and enter hell
"Su...Suna?" you ask trying hard to look normal but it was failing
"You're sick."
it wasn't a question or anything it was just something he admitted
"Yeah." You croak slumping against the wall
he just nods and turns and leaves
rolling your eyes you close the door and head back to the bed
of course in your fog you didn't lock the door
that you did not know until Suna stormed in looking pissed with a bag of stuff from the pharmacy
"Lock your door next time." he snaps and of course with you being sick and tired tears sprung in your eyes
"I'm sorry." you whimper softly and you hear a groan
"Don't cry." he grumbles sitting down his tattoos moving with him almost like they had a life of their own
" careful." he whispers softly knowing that this moment was going to mean something to him
Tumblr media
Calling him cold wouldn’t be right more so......calculating
people weren't his strong suite unless it comes to bokuto then it's a breeze
but you....of yeah you were a whole different story
being always nice to everyone and everything was just you as you would smile at anyone
so when akaashi the big bad mafia boss saunter into the bar late one night you just smiled
of course he just glared at you and ordered a shot of jack and to keep them coming
"yes sir." you reply softly and he looks up something different in his eye but you just look at him with confusion
"need something?" you ask and he looks down again
"No, and aren't you a little too.."
"Young?" you finish as you start to clean beer pitchers
"innocent." he says looking you up and down
you can't help but laugh and he swears to this day that laugh gets him drunker than any alcohol
"I wouldn't laugh at me." he says scowling and you just stop and look at him
"Why's that?" you ask playing dumb with this question
when you moved here the first thing you learned was not to cross the Mafia especially the leader
Akaashi goes to answer but stops seeing some people come to the bar
you tense and he takes notice immediately to this
the guys sit down and start to throw some vile things your way
of course you shrink back slightly but swallow it to keep working
Akaashi watches until one guy reaches for your ass and he moves fast
slamming his wrist hard a sick crack fills the air
"Don't fucking touch what is mine you understand me." Akaashi snaps
jumping back you go to run but Akaashi steps away and his whole body changed
hands that looked rough and hard grabbed you with such gentleness it was almost like you'd shatter in his grip
"Come home with me alright, I won't touch you or anything but those guys will have their eyes on you now since i claimed you as mine." He whispers knowing you were in shock
"Okay." You whisper feeling utterly safe with this dangerous man
Tumblr media
What a cold hearted prick
honestly you wanted to smack him but the thought of hurting him was a sour taste in your mouth
"Baby doll, don't be mad im sorry I didn't come yesterday." he whispers kissing the trail between your breasts
you were working as a stripper at one of the clubs they happened to own
you hated your job but it helped pay the bills and help your baby brother in college
he wanted to be something and so did you and he too was working hard but you wanted to help
it was just the two of you
"Let go Toru, I need to go dance and you're holding up my ways to make money." You grumble slightly
His hands on your waist tighten holding you still
"i'll pay triple what they all will give you each and every customer." he grumbles kissing your neck
"Let go." You huff and finally shove yourself off his lap
"Baby, stop okay, I'm not trying to be mean, just I don't like those other men touching you." He huffs leaning back his pants and shirt undone
You can't help but soften at his words as you sit back down in his lap
Oikawa smiles gently and leans up kissing your forehead before leaning back holding you
not knowing how much time passes a man you didn't know busts into the room
"Let go of the whore boss, we got a meeting with those damn Shiratorizawa bastards." He lashes out fast buckling his belt
you flinch and get up fast covering yourself with the robe
Oikawa sighs softly and stands fixing his clothes
"hold on." He mumbles and leans down for a kiss but you turn your head
He stops seeing the hurt and embarrassed tears in your eyes and that tips him over the edge
with a smile he turns and pulls out his gun without you noticing and yanks the guy out
"WAIT WAIT BOSS NO!" but the screams stop when a loud bassy echo goes off as you flinch
oikawa comes back with some blood splatter and walks over tilting your chin up
He leans down and kisses you softly and pulls away his large hand engulfing your face
"I love you, please go home." he mummers pressing his key into your hand
"I have to work." You argue back
"I already put the money in your account baby doll, don't argue with me, please." He sighs and kisses you again as he leaves
"I've lost." You whisper smiling stupidly at the small metal key
1K notes · View notes
mochikeiji · 6 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Request: "For your event can I have my bby, Inumaki Toge (sorry for being so predictable) and prompts 50 and 6 🥺👉👈"
50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"
6. "No, don't cover your smile"
↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x F!Reader
↠ Warning: mini make out session in the end, mostly fluffy soft times, italicized fonts are Inumaki's lines through texts
↬ Word Count: 1.3k
↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event
Tumblr media
As much as you find the certain white haired but quiet ball of sunshine, there was one thing that sometimes bothered you. It wasn't major— Inumaki was alright as he is now. If not, perfect you would say. The only thing you don't comprehend is that he kept wearing that long sleeved, collar that reached his mouth. Even you find your annoying teacher was wearing the same thing as your boyfriend after yelling hysterically how he's found his long lost twin while poor Inumaki was dragged out of the blue.
You get it's for hiding the tattoos on the corners of his lips. Maybe there was more to it, but Inumaki wrote it on a paper; a way of communicating, that it wasn't at all that sacred or anything to hide. He just grew fond of hiding his mouth for a long period of time. Though he admits it does kind of make him insecure of the times people saw him in person while walking down the streets with a normal attire. All you could ever have in order to read his emotions were his eyes. There were moments you'd catch a peek of his full features during missions. But it hasn't even reached a minute or so he's already hidden himself like a turtle.
Staring longer at him while laying down on bed bored, it dawned to you how you've never caught on what he'd look like if he smiles underneath that suit he wore. This made you tempted to zip down the little zipper in display, but you know better than to pry in his comfort zone. But oh, can you imagine, just a cute kitten like smile. Or even a pout when he's clinging onto your waist during mornings for more over time cuddles. You needed to see that.
"Hey, Toge."
Fingers tugging down the hem of his suit, Inumaki's attention drifts off of his phone from what Yuta was sending and peered at you, "Shake?" he starts, fiddling with your fingers with his. He does this a lot even in public, so intrigued at how much it has an affect to make his insides all giddy and warm from the playful gesture.
"Can I please see you?"
He snorts a little as he types something on his phone. Lucky you, yours happened to be right next to you. The screen lightening, pinging a notification coming from him,
You already are, you dummy.
Inumaki chuckles a bit when he earned himself a pout and a huff from you. Pinching your cheeks gently in a way of saying sorry and waits for you to explain, "I mean, I want to see you. You know," widening your palm a bit, facing it near your own mouth and began waving up and down at him. "Without the thingy in the way."
He messages again,
Thingy? Really? Aren't you cute.
Sitting up from your position, you waddled closer to his body. Inumaki shifts himself to sit comfortably at the edge of the bed for you to settle yourself on his lap. His hands roamed for a good seconds behind your back, occasionally trying to be sneaky once he's reached a bit lower, but settles nonetheless on your hips.
"I wanna see you smile." while playing with the dangling zipper, "I've never really seen you take this off whenever we're together. Don't get me wrong! It's not ugly! I just, you know."
It startled you when he coos quietly. Squinting his eyes and booping your nose softly. If you weren't mistaken, did he just wiggled himself? He resumes to typing once again something quickly and flashes his screen towards you.
You're just precious.
But I'm not gonna do it.
Kind of bummed from what he said. Then again worried you may have been pushing him on, but then you see his index scroll up from his notepad to reveal the other, large bolded text underneath his last reply,
You do it for me.
"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound pushy."
He types again,
You're not. It's nice to hear that someone can't resist my charms.
Gasping dramatically, you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. His shoulders jolting from stifled laughter before grabbing your wrist up to the zipper. It was stupid to have your breath held in. What can you say, it was anticipating really. Giving you a firm nod that it was very much okay for him, you slowly zipped down the collar to unravel half of his face. Your smile was wobbly from failing to hide the embarrassment, more now because he kept arching his brows as if he was teasing you.
When it came to a stop at his chest, your hand automatically reaches out for his jaw. Thumb tracing over the swirly marks now that it was up close and woah, do you want to know if he uses some kind of lip balm or lip gloss. They were so pretty! Probably near as the blubbering blindfolded male.
If you could only see yourself so dazed at him, like any other guy, the corners of his lips rose a tiny bit from all the attention he was gaining from you. He could feel his naked soul burn from the sparkles of admiration through your eyes as you stared at him agape, "You're really handsome."
And like any other guy, to be called handsome hasn't occurred in his book until now. Of course, it's a bit more different if someone you love says it, right? Suddenly feeling quite hot underneath your gaze and comment, his fingers threaded through his bangs to push away from his sweaty forehead. Looking away when he feels the blood in his face circulate to paint his cheeks.
No different than he is, you quickly slapped a palm on your mouth, "I-I mean, you're always handsome! It's just, wow." unable to keep your eyes out of his face, so close you could count the lashes on his eyes, "You're wow. Like, wow. You're with me?"
Couldn't you stop already? It's not often he gets someone praising him. It's always Maki and Yuta that gets the spotlight, occasionally Panda if he's down in the dumps. But couldn't you tell by the way he's suddenly the one who's nervous because of you? It felt too good to hear, he had to gulp down the butterflies that were prying his lips into a large grin. Boy, does he want to hide himself as he lowered his hand from holding his bangs up to cup his mouth. Upon witnessing that, you shake your head with a smile,
"No, don't cover your smile." pinning his hand down, planted on his sides as you leaned closer, "I love your smile."
Nothing but pure sincerity came out from you. What choice does he have to deny you when the reason why he can't even contain himself from smiling was because of you? Shyly tapping on his revealed chest random patterns and scanning each part your eyes could reach, he takes advantage of the closeness you two shared just by the lips. Squeaking between the kisses, his arms circles to your middle to pull you in deeper, your hands acting as a support that held onto his shoulders. Unlike the quick pecks that go by in a flash, he savors this one the most knowing he's got nothing to hide from anything or anyone. No one would've guessed he'd kiss as if it was full of raw, hungry emotions.
Even when you pull away to breathe, he still sneaks more littered kisses on your lips until he was satisfied witha goofy smile on his flushed face. Fumbling to grab his phone open for the prepared text he's put in earlier and pushing it between your faces, "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you."
"You planned this from the start didn't you, you jerk." scoffing playfully to mask your own lovey dovey state from floating to the clouds. He shows you another text briefly before throwing his phone out of the way, resuming back to business in a more intimate position feeling himself become in much need.
© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^・^=)
Take less, more kisses, cutie.
Tumblr media
769 notes · View notes
cursedmoonchild · 3 months ago
Remember when Toji tattooed your name above his eyebrow? Yeah so:
You two are grocery shopping and after years together you grown to ignore people’s weird looks at you and your heavily tattooed husband.
Apparently it’s gotten worse now he had a face tattoo with nothing other than your name. A truly romantic gesture from him, but not everyone saw that.
“I should make you use a hat or something” you murmured to him after another security guard stared at the two of you passing by.
“What you’re complaining about? I think it’s funny, people probably think I’m holding you as a hostage” he laughed.
You left him at the cashier line while you returned to pick up something you forgot. When you returned, Toji was chatting with an old man in front of him on the line, you approached them and the man smiled at you.
“Oh you must be…” the old man pointed to Toji then to his own forehead, “I was just telling your husband how my wife would’ve kicked me out of the house if I showed up with her name tattooed on me” both Toji and the man laughed.
“She actually liked it a lot, right darling?” Toji placed his fully inked arm around your shoulders, finding extremely cute how red your face became when you remembered the activities you’ve done with him the day he came home with that tattoo.
“That was so embarrassing” you told your husband on your way to the car with the grocery bags, “Imagine if we separate and people call your next wife my name because of that” you pointed to his forehead.
Toji dropped all the bags on the open trunk of his classic car once he heard your words.
“You are crazy if you think I would ever let you get away from me, this is forever you know that right? There won’t be another wife, dumbass” you realized that he actually took your words seriously.
“Aw baby” you stepped forward and laced your arms around his neck kissing the ink above his eye, “I know, I know, I was just kidding” Toji groaned and moved to close the trunk and place you on top of it standing in between your legs.
“You know… maybe we should get you a matching tattoo, I know just the right place to put it” his index finger touched you bottom lip moving it down to your neck, the valley of your chest until it pulled the hem of your pants slightly down only to stop and tap the skin right above your underwear, “What do you think, darling? Let’s stop by the studio?”
337 notes · View notes
angeldlust · 11 days ago
мнα вσys вєiทg yσυr вєsτ ƒriєท∂ (τнατ нαvє α crυsн σท yσυ)ρτ.ii
Tumblr media
Genre: Fluff, Headcanons, SFW
Characters: Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijiro, Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku
All the characters are aged up
A/N: So more fluff... is this right ? ashashahsa so I made a part two for our lovely boys hope you guys enjoy it !!
ทαvi || мαsτєrℓisτ || PT.I
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
кαмiทαri ∂єทкi
Matching nails !!!!
Will flirty with you in public, especially on interview and then get all flustered when you answer with the same energy
Always comment about how pretty you are, but gets moody when someone else does, don't get me wrong he'll be all show off until see you're blushing at someone else comment then he's done
Random memes at 4 AM and corny lines "Shouldn't u be on patrol?" "Yeah but look at this cat, like- Oh shit there's something happened brb"
Will support you in anything you decide to do, and in the most suspicious decisions. No questions if you're in he's in
Short-circuits whenever you call him pretty boy, so be careful, last time you guys caused a blackout
I wouldn't say matching tattoos but you definitely got one together also piercings, a helix or industrial one
Random hc but he truly find stretch marks adorable and if this is something that bothers you, he will worship it, "They're just like little lightning, just like my quirk, so pretty"
кirisнiмα єiנirσυ
Oh Lord, food, at least once in a week you guys would be out to eat something different
and when he finds something new, that he knows you gonna like? either he'd send it to you right away or show up at your apartment whit it
Daily msg to check up on you and if you're hydrated
Mornings workout with you or walks on the park are sacred
always asks you to help him with his hair, in my head pro hero red riot has long hair, so he loves when you braid his hair
Puppy eyes for cuddles, and he'll never let you take the roadside
Loves to go out in crowded places, cuz he has an excuse to hold your hand
and he loses every time you hold his biceps instead of his hands
has matching shark pajamas for sleepovers and won't take any criticism about them, "because they're so manly"
If you're having a bad day he'd do anything to cheer you up, but normally he'd bring you over to his apartment for ice cream and lots of cuddles.
bonus point, he'll make you sit on his lap while your head, rest on his chest and play with your hair until you feel better or fall asleep
sнiทsσυ нiτσsнi
Quiet, but a true softie
You're literally his counterpoint, and this is unquestionable
Lots of msg, memes, and random things, just like Aizawa, if he finds something that he thinks you'll like to see or that remembered him of you, he'll just send a pic to you right away
Coffe dates, and lots of venting, he truly feel safe and comfortable to vent with you
Judgemental looks to the guys who hits on you, and then he'll pretend innocence "What? I didn't scare them, I was literally taking my coffee "
HE WILL tease you a lot, but people don't believe it since he's the "collect and cool" one, and he knows that and he keeps doing it cuz your pouty face when people look disbelief at you is just too adorable.
Does have a skincare night with you, mostly like a sleepover, but you guys always end up sleeping in the middle of the movie
Forehead kisses and anything that make you blush or lose your words >>>>>
мi∂σriyα iʑυкυ
Blushes a fucking lot, I can even describe, he'd stare at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, in his eyes, you are tho, and then starts to blush
Notes about the things you like (mental notes and on the notebook)
Another one who has your period track, he'd be way more gentle in those days and keep checking on you
But he would be as subtle as he can
probably would send you brownies or something sweet
Gave you a copy of his apartment key, and can't help but wait for you to be there when he arrived from some random mission or patrol
Must mention how cute he looks when he finds you there, cheeks slight flush and a small smile that grow when you greet him
bonus point if you're on his All Might Jerseys or even any of his clothes, the boy just loses everything
He'll msg you beforehand tho, "patrol it's almost over, are you up for a movie ?"
Has a small part of his wardrobe for your things and feminine supplies. (You're basically living there )
Honestly, he doesn't know how to react when someone asks if you guys are dating, and once he literally just fly away.
Tumblr media
© all content belongs to angeldlust do not modify or repost; if found please let me know
Tumblr media
313 notes · View notes
immortalcas · a year ago
oka yi have like 3095i9 more asks in ther ebut here’s my try for a “summary” of tonights finale
sam and dean are happy go lucky in the bunker, living with miracle, going to pie festivals, looking for cases
they find one. there’s vamps. it does not go well. they save the kids. kill the vamps....
dean gets stabbed up against a wall, like a couple teen wolf characters did a few years ago ldkjgkfgj sam does not realize until dean doesn’t move to leave the barn
emotional tearful ridiculously outrageous farewell speech that will no doubt be 9000 frames long and require 4 gifsets minimum. dean tells sam not to try to bring him back. that its time. that this is the way he knew it would end (see gifset 1)  (there are a few more foreshadowing moments that i will gif in the coming days)
they hold each other and cry with their foreheads pressed together like some fucking renaissance painting, as they say
dean dies slowly pierced by something against that wall, sam cries his face off. tells dean it’s okay. he can go. dean ... goes.
sam mopes around the bunker with miracle being sad. he hears a phone ringing from one of their drawers-full-of-phones, and picks up one of dean’s “other other” cells. its a guy whos got a werewolf problem. he asks if sam can help. sam cries a bit more and decides to leave the bunker. not sure if he went on that hunt or what.
dean is in heaven
he sees bobby, who explains to him that jack fixed up heaven so that they could all be together, that it s not one heaven per person anymore.
 bobby said something about cas helping with that and dean’s FACE WHEN BOBBY SAID THAT. unfollow me now its all im gonna gif for the next few weeks.
dean says its almost perfect. bobby tells him time doesn’t work the same way up there. i can read between the lines.
dean looks up and sees baby, tells bobby hes gonna go for a drive.
dean gets in baby and carry on wayward son starts playing
dean smiles and says “i love this song”. he drives off into the sunset
montage of sam growing old. having a son. a wife off in the blurry distance of the camera as he plays catch with his son DEAN in their yard (it’s not eileen :((((
sam somewhere middle aged goes to his garage and uncovers baby
he sits in the driver’s seat and closes his eyes. we watch dean drive down his road in heaven at the same time. sam cries.
sam dies an old man in a nice bed in a nice house with his son (who has the warding tattoo) at his side. 
he meets dean on a bridge overlooking a river in heaven
they hug
wincest wins the show :/
2K notes · View notes
honeytae · 3 months ago
I get to snuggle with the birthday boy in his big boy bed.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK!!!! we absolutely adore you baby boy :( this is a really soft self serving piece because who doesn’t want to sleep in jungkooks childhood bedroom? right? like, my heart would burst out of complete fondness for him. i hope you all like this, i’m sorry for making jungkook’s parents only appear for like three split seconds LMAO
tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters
With Jungkook’s loosened schedule, you were able to get to his parents home for the better half of the week, the man practically giddy at the thought of you finally coming home with him. You had met his parents several times before, yes, but you were yet to stay in their home. Jungkook’s childhood home.
The drive outside of Seoul was filled with Jungkook’s playlist and your familiar bickering patterns, his tattooed hand holding your own over the gear stick as he bobbed his head to the beat resounding throughout the car.
“Has anyone ever told you your voice is superb?”
“Has anyone ever told you your face is superb?”
His excited parents had come out to welcome you as soon as you pulled in, causing both of you to smile fondly as you opened your car doors, immediately greeted with a hug from one of his parents.
As it was your first time seeing the exterior of Jungkook’s home without the tainted marks in an old image, you took a moment to observe the details, grinning at the home and all the memories your boyfriend had surrounding it.
It was a quaint little house nestled between two others, pale in color yet bustling with flowers in the garden out front.
“Aw, this house is adorable.” You had cooed as you walked up the driveway, hugging his arm closer to you as he simply chuckled, his mother acknowledging you with a sweet smile of her own.
“Make yourself at home, dear.” She’d said, gesturing you into the doorway with a sparkling glint in her eye, his father chuckling as he raised your bag up in his hand.
“I’ll go drop this off in Jungkook’s room for you. We’d have you stay in the guest room, but it’s under renovation right now.” He said, his mother echoing his apology with a shake of her head as she sighed about a recent flood.
“That’s perfect. Thank you.” You smiled at them, Jungkook squeezing your shoulder before setting off for the kitchen, coming back with two glasses of water for you both to sip at.
The room was unequivocally him, from the countless Iron Man action figures to the various sketches lining the walls, obviously pinned up himself with little thumbtacks.
Over the course of the wall, the thumbtacks climbed higher and higher, indicating his growing height over time and increasing skill along with it.
“Literally nothing has changed in here since I left for Seoul.” He shyly giggled at the state of the room from behind you, making you turn back toward him with a fond smile as you reached up to squeeze his cheeks.
“It’s precious, I love it.” You eased him, the man melting into your touch with a giddy smile, turning his cheek to pucker his lips against the palm of your hand.
The room very much was the state of a fifteen year old boys room, but it was so him. Obviously the whole day to day of his life had turned upside down from what it was when he last lived in this room, this house, but Jungkook was still that fifteen-year-old boy at his core. You adored him even more for it.
“Baby.” He called for your attention, your eyes flitting to him in a widened glance.
“Nothing has changed in here.” He reiterated, chuckling slightly at your confused hum. Placing his hand on your lower back, he guided you to face the opposite side of the room, directly pointing to his twin-size bed.
Giggling a bit at the adolescent sheet pattern, you turned back to him with a beaming smile, knocking his shoulder with your forehead.
“We’ll figure it out.”
Figuring it out, as you had so simply put it, was a lot easier said than done.
Shifting your leg over a bit to escape the edge of the bed, you froze at the sound of Jungkook’s pained groan, bracing yourself against his shoulders as you moved your knee away from his crotch.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You okay?” You soothed against his neck, raising your eyebrows as you awaited an answer from the injured man.
The lack of light within the room, merely a sliver creeping in through the blinds, left you clueless to his gentle smile and overall relaxation of his face from moments prior, the feeling of his hand soothing up and down your arm easing you slightly.
“‘S fine, love.” He verbally confirmed, brushing his lips against your chin before shifting up on his pillow a few inches, now evenly level with your mouth to press all the kisses he wanted on your bottom lip.
You hummed as he pulled it into his mouth to gently suckle on, nibbling at it slightly before pulling away with a deep sigh.
“Under different circumstances, I’d have you kiss it better.”
With a scoff at his crudeness, you attempted to roll over to face away from the man, and having forgotten you were in a bed meant for a small child, quickly began your descent to the floor with a fold of your arm beneath you.
“Babe!” Jungkook reached out to catch your bicep with a strong hand latched around the muscle, rolled over himself from trying to chase you on your fall from his oh so convenient twin bed.
A soft ‘thud’ resounded through the room as your knee hit the floor, your leg bending out of reflex to catch your short-lived fall from his mattress. Jungkook, stunned above you, looked at you with scrunched brows, his piercing glinting in the moonlight streaming in from the crack in the blinds as he bit down on his bottom lip.
He couldn’t stifle the laugh born out of whatever the fuck had just happened, little giggles growing louder yet more isolated as he tried his best to muffle them into his sheets, you not faring much better splayed out on the floor below.
“Kook, this is all your fault.” You whined from the ground, trying your best to hold in your own laugh as he reached down to you, sliding his hands beneath your arms to lift you back up onto the bed beside him.
“Why is it my fault, hm?” He asked slyly, letting his hands glide down your torso to land on your hips, leaving them there as you rolled your eyes again at the man.
“Maybe because you’re making crude dick jokes in your parents house.” You said, Jungkook humming in thought before a shrug from his shoulders shifted the mattress.
“Wouldn’t that be more of a blowjob joke?” He wondered aloud, ”I mean, let’s be politically correct here.”
“Politically- Jungkook!” You exclaimed, appalled at his bluntness with his parents only rooms away and most likely within earshot of every word that came out of his mouth.
Your boyfriends giggles were all you got in response, making you smile despite your initial annoyance. His hand slid over the back of yours to grip your fingers, pulling gently to coax you closer to him in his laid down position.
“C’mere, sweet pea.” He murmured, tone softened from only moments before, the pet name making your heart thrum a bit more in your chest.
With a careful lowering of your body to the mattress, you snuggled up to him once again, this time successfully getting into a front facing spooning position with no injury on either end.
He smelled warm, like cotton and that fabric softener that he loved along with the wood tones of the cologne he’d bought himself a few months back.
His skin felt like velvet as you stroked your fingers up and down his inked arm, the dark designs a stark contrast to the way his soft flesh leaned into your touch.
“Lucky me.” You smiled blissfully, stroking the man’s hair back behind his ear to admire his features easier.
“Lucky you?” He repeated, confusion laced in his tone as he raised his pierced eyebrow at you.
“I’m the luckiest of all,” you paused for dramatics, “because I get to snuggle with the birthday boy in his big boy bed.” You cracked a smirk, snorting when his face dropped at your words.
“Shut up.” He laughed, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head with a sigh.
“I love you, Kookie.”
“Hm, love you too, honey.”
264 notes · View notes
elysianslove · 11 months ago
Hello thank you accepting requests and spending time writing for us all! Could I request something like a timid Succubus!reader or some sexual curse thinking Yuji would be good to feed off on a night where she’s really hungry, but then bumps into Sukusa taking control and just fucking reader until she feels so full she doesn’t need to feed for a looooong while? (⌒▽⌒) Have fun!!
hi!!! thank you so much for your words eeeeee 
anyways! more sukuna smut yay! eat up, simps <3 it’s not a yuuji smut but he’s still aged up here due to the sexual implications towards him at the start
warnings; angry unprotected sex between two creatures, with so much degradation and a lotta hair pulling. some choking. yum. this is so filthy pls
Tumblr media
━ you first take notice of him on the cloudiest night in japan, where the moon is barely visible behind the curtain of wispy fluff. it still manages to shine through, just enough for you to spot him from where you stand among the trees. hungry eyes scan his body: he’s tall, strong and muscular, and there’s a lingering sense of innocence that makes your mouth water all that much. as he tilts his head back and laughs, exposing his throat to you, you feel an overwhelming sense of desire bubble at the pit of your stomach. with one last look at him, you make your decision, and fall back with the shadows.
Tumblr media
it’s humid in the small cabin you reside in, the world around you lulling itself to sleep. the boy is in a deep slumber on your couch, snoring softly, and you resist the urge to bite into his flesh while he’s so vulnerable. you’ll take joy in his reactions, in something so strong and sturdy beneath you. of course, you’d played your part, seducing him until the consent fell off his tongue in pretty waves, because it’s never fun if they try to resist. it’s always better when they succumb to the overwhelming pleasure you pull out of them.
the clock ticks three times before you let out a restless sigh, opting instead of waiting around for him to wake up to walk out of the small room into your kitchen, a cold glass of water finding its way into your hand. you gulp it down quickly, but the shiver that courses through you isn’t due to the ice that lingers in the glass.
there’s something behind you.
you’re inhumanely fast as you spin around, nails sharp and teeth bared, but they’re much faster. your wrists are in their grasp in seconds, and you’re pushed up against the wall quicker than you can blink. blink and register that this is the same boy you’ve lured into your domain, but it’s also not. the surprise upon seeing this — this man, in all his angry, tattooed glory, brings your guard down a moment too long, and you find yourself stuck between the physical wall behind you, and the wall of flesh before you.
“why do you have my vessel captive?” he sneers at you, and your anger boils back up into your chest.
it clicks into place, all at once, and you narrow your eyes. “curse,” you spit at him.
“demon,” he bites back. “answer me.”
“i owe you nothing,” you retort angrily. your wrists twist underneath his grasp, attempting to get away, but he doesn’t budge, and fuck is he strong. he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move an inch, only tightens his fists, digging his nails into your skin. you bite back the urge to flinch from under his stare. “you’re not who i want,” you add in a low voice.
for a moment, his grasp loosens, enough for you to lift a knee aimed at his abdomen, kicking at him with all your might. it does more to injure you than it does him, especially because of the fact that you dwell at your weakest, hungry and unsatisfied. you’re about to slip out from underneath his arm, but his hand finds your hair, tugging at it so harshly it emits a surprised and pained shout from your lips. your face is roughly pushed up against the wall, hands pressing to steady yourself, his hand remaining in your hair.
he tugs again, and another yell falls from your lips. his lower body is pressed against yours, hips keeping yours from moving, while his other hand rises to grip your jaw, carelessly digging his nails in. “answer me,” he repeats himself, and you notice his voice is surprisingly lower.
when you shift your hips, in an attempt to move away from him, an attempt to fix this uncomfortable position, you feel it, hard and poking at your lower back, and you laugh, loud and boisterous and mocking. he digs his nails deeper as a show of anger, but he only grows harder, so you laugh, and laugh, and laugh until your breathless.
and then, with a sultry, taunting, and dismissive voice, you say, “you’ll have to do.”
Tumblr media
it doesn’t take long for him to finally understand, to process that you not only identify as a demon, but one that feeds on sexual intercourse. and it doesn’t take you long to realize that you may not be the first of your kind to come across him. you are, however, the first who’s face he’s fucked.
your back is once again pressed up against the same wall, but your on your knees, hands gripping his thighs, and face stuffed with his cock. it feels so good, and he tastes even better. you can feel every drag of his cock as he thrusts into your mouth, and you gag and choke but it’s everything you’ve ever needed. the desire doesn’t fade away, though, it only thrums and builds in your stomach and chest and spreads across your limbs. he’s so big in your mouth, stretching your lips and jaw wide, and it’s aching, it hurts, and there are tears stinging the corner of your eyes and your face is flushed and your chest is heaving, but your eyes are also rolling back from the pleasure.
it’s dizzying how obscene this is, and it hits you with outstanding suddenness that the other boy, the vessel, would have never done this. the control would have been entirely in your hands. you yourself would have led his cock down your throat, swallowed around him and choked until you had no air left in your lungs. but this curse, sukuna as you’d found, holds the reigns entirely himself. you have absolute no control over the way he thrusts in your mouth, even when he buries himself deep, holding your head steady as the lack of oxygen hits your brain, even as you start thrashing and your arms start flailing and you continuously slap at his thighs.
he doesn’t relent, and the scariest part is that you fucking love it.
your throat bobs as you swallow around him, gagging as he sinks deeper and deeper until your nose is pressed against his pelvis. your mouth widens to accommodate his size, your throat spasming in an attempt to get accustomed to the intrusion. “fucking whore,” he spits out as he drags you away by your hair. drool spills from your mouth, your lips glistening with spit and precum, a single line of it connecting you to his dick. you don’t attempt to shy away when he tilts your head back, instead, you smirk up at him, sucking in a sharp breath and licking at your lips.
“so you still need that brattiness fucked out of you?” he taunts. his hand twists your hair and he pulls you up. instinctively, your hands fly up to curl at his wrist, gripping it tightly. with anger guiding him, he leads you to the couch in the living room. “need to put in your place, hm?” he adds, pushing you down across the couch’s arm, baring you to him entirely, the thin shawl you’d had on completely disregarded in the kitchen.
your hands fall before you, steadying your body, as his hands grip at your hips, down to your ass, where he kneads at the flesh. small whimpers fall from your lips as he continues to squeeze and pinch at the back of your thighs, quick pants tumbling out while his nails scratch and mark you. fuck, you are going insane.
with a breathless gasp, you turn your head, fixing him with a challenging glare. “sounds like you’re all talk,” you tease, reveling in the way his face twists furiously.
unexpectedly, his palm strikes down against your ass, and you squeal, hips rutting and legs swinging at the shock of the impact. “shut the fuck up,” he warns you, his hand landing another harsh smack, and despite the pain that shudders through you, and the heat searing from your ass, your back arches into him, pushing back against him. “yeah,” he encourages in a low voice, his other hand smacking your other cheek. “that’s all you’re good for.” he hits you again, and you have to bite back a whimper of pleasure, opting to bring a hand to your mouth and biting into the flesh of your palm instead as he continues to smack at your ass, unrelenting and unforgiving, never once holding back on you. “getting fucked and used— i know you’re fucking enjoying this,” he adds.
if he continues to deprive you of what you really need, you’re afraid you’ll have to resort to begging for it. “then fuck me,” you groan. “use me.”
you expect him to break, to falter, to finally satiate you, but he doesn’t. instead, he falls forward, leaning close to you with two steady hands gripping your hips. and then, against your ear, with his heavy, wet cock pressed against the small of your back, he growls, “beg for it like the whore you are,” and you find you have no option but to do so.
humiliatingly, you dissolve into a fit of sobs, your hips pathetically and aimlessly rutting and pushing back against him, desperate and wanting as you cry out a chorus of, “please, please, please—“ like it’s the only word you know. his nails dig deeper into your skin as your pleading rises in volume and without warning, he sinks into you, bottoming out. the scream of shock and pain and confused pleasure that tumbles out of your lips is terrifying, and it dies out into a sob, your head falling back down, forehead pressing against the cushions of the couch.
he feels so good. he’s filling you up in ways you’d never imagined you could be, and the pleasure he drowns you in is stupefying you, numbing all your limbs. you feel on fire with how overwhelmed you are, and you doubt the need to feed will overcome you for months.
the drag of his cock against the tightness of your walls is intoxicating, and you can feel every part of him as he pulls out, only to sink back in deeper. with every thrust, a yell is dragged out from your lips, broken, helpless sobs tumbling out. he fucks you stupid, hard and fast and deep, exactly the way you need it. you can feel yourself dripping and drenching your thighs and the couch’s arm beneath you, and you can hear the squelch of your cunt as it sucks his cock in with every thrust.
“so,” you sob, “fucking,” another hiccup, “full.” you yell out again, grip on the edge of the cushions whitening your knuckles.
“taking it like the good, little cum slut you are, hm?” he keens. your eyes roll back at the words, and fuck, who knew you’d be like this? one particular harsh thrust pushes you forward, brushing your clit against the rough fabric of the couch. it has you trembling uncontrollably, how with every thrust your clit is being stimulated, and his cock keeps brushing and dragging along the sweet spot within you until your orgasm is hitting you all of a sudden, sending you into momentary shock before your lower body is shaking terribly, hips pushing and pressing and trembling.
the couch’s cushions are damp with your drool and spit and tears as you gasp and shake and shudder and cry. he doesn’t stop. he’s not stopping.
oh, fuck.  
with a hand in your hair pulling you up, and another hand finding its way around your throat, he squeezes tightly, pressing his lips against your neck and whispering, “i’m not done with you yet,” before sinking his teeth in, marking you in every way possible.
Tumblr media
end note; brb gotta cleanse myself 
2K notes · View notes