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ellieslittlewh0re · 5 months

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ִ ⋆｡ °✩ ❝ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄 𝐋♡𝐕𝐄 ❞ ✩°｡⋆

(𝒘𝒌) 5k

〚𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒〛 ✰ rockerstar! ellie x groupie! reader ✰

〚𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒〛 ellie williams. her name was everywhere- the underground music’s next breakout star, and for a good reason too- a honeyed voice mixed with gravel, her passion, energy, the fact she was everything rock and roll should be. also, let’s not forget the sex appeal.

〚𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒〛 sex, love, drugs, and rock and roll. !!TW!! for descriptions of drug usage ( c0cain, L$D) fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), strap on usage (r! receiving) overstim kinda, dom e!, sub r!

It started with a video- a grainy, shity quality one at that, but still a video. She was center stage of some grungy bar from the looks of it, spotlights illuminating her face enough to see stands of her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and a chipped cherry red electric guitar hanging from her shoulder. She was magnetic, hypnotizing- not just with her performance, but her looks as well.

From that day on, you just had the desire to get closer to her in any way you could.

It had been two months since you started following her band while they toured across the West Coast. You had been to every show, seen every performance, and Ellie was starting to catch on.

The first time she saw you, you immediately caught Ellie's attention- I mean, how could you not? You were by far the hottest girl in the venue that night, swinging your hips so effortlessly it put the rest of the girls to shame. Ellie remembers that night vividly because she was so pissed she couldn't find you after the show to bring you back to her shitty motel room and have her way with you. But Ellie quickly forgot about you when the company of two other girls took your place that night, along with a few too many hits of whatever her drug of choice was during that time.

So, that's how you ended up here- at a run down gas station bathroom touching up your makeup in the middle of the fucking desert, and a van full of strangers that you were currently hitching a ride with waiting outside at the pumps.

And Ellie? Well, Ellie was doing what she always does before a show- drugs, and lots of them, whether it was molly, coke, weed, tabs, or maybe even a deadly concoction of all the above, she didn't care as long as it made her feel alive- claiming it made her perform better or something, but really she just liked being fucked up while fucking girls after the show.

While Ellie was living this "glamorous" rockstar lifestyle, you were on the complete opposite end- quitting your day job to follow some girl around who doesn't even know your name and catching rides from people who definitely look like they have seen the inside of a prison cell- AKA, you were a groupie.

The air was hot, stale. A thin layer of orangy, rust-colored sand coated the windows and the van's gaudy upholstery. The landscape outside flashed like an old fashioned reel movie, cacti, shrubs, Joshua trees, and repeat.

It was desolate, and if the road and occasional mile marker wasn't there to remind you, you would've thought you were on a different planet.

"Your stop is next, daisy." The man with a handle bar mustache yelled from the drivers seat, meeting your eyes in the review mirror.

Daisy. A nickname given to you by the group when they first picked you up further up north. You had a daisy tucked behind your ear, and from then on, you were daisy.

It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, venue isn't really how you would describe it. It was more like a diner turned bar turned into whatever the fuck it was currently. You waved your goodbyes to the the group of not-so-strange strangers, all of them bidding you 'farewells' and 'good lucks' before you watched the red tails fade into the pitch dark of the desert.

For once, you were early. Turns out a bunch of traveling hippies and outcasts aren't on a timed schedule, who knew?

Even though you were early, the dirt patch of a parking lot was packed, cars in various stages of deterioration lining the sides of the building, and people gathering outside to avoid the cramped interior. But you weren't here to socialize or drink and get high- you just wanted to see her, dance to the strum of her guitar, and let her voice consume and overtake you.

It was 40-ish minutes past midnight, meaning Ellie and her band were late, but that's not a surprise. She had a bad habit of keeping the people waiting, but she was a busy girl- hanging out backstage or at a hotel, a room full of girls for her to pick from, and no shortage of drugs and alcohol. But tonight, she went a little too overboard. Her band mates were practically carrying her across the motel parking lot to their van, trying to get her to sober up on the way to the venue with water and motivational speeches that mostly consisted of "get your fucking shit together".

The short 30 minute drive to the venue was barely long enough to get Ellie back in the right state of mind. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, and her speech was a little slurred, but she's used to preforming under these conditions.

You waited patiently of course, babying a strong cocktail mix since you didn't dare get drunk and risk not remembering every detail of the night- every detail of her.

When the crowd shifted their attention to the back entrance of the building, silent murmurs at first before a load cheer erupting was when you knew, she was here, and she looked like heaven- a black tank top that was torn near the neckline, a studded belt loosely securing a pair of baggy, black patchwork cargo pants.

The crowd parted a pathway for her as she made her way through the room with her bandmates following behind, a cigarette tucked between her lips as she'd occasionally stop to sign whatever was thrown at her- a piece of paper, cash, a pair of tits- which she'd always happily comply, but if she saw a girl she liked, she would lick her pointer finger and index, smearing part of her signature on their cleavage while the marker was still wet to subtly let you know that she wanted your company for the night- at least, that's the rumor you've heard.

You found yourself holding your breath- she was so close, a mere body or two keeping you at arm's length from her. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and see the details of her chipped black nail polish holding the marker between her fingers.

Ellie hands the notebook and marker back into the wave of hands, looking up while blowing out a cloud of smoke, and that's when she sees you. She was about to walk off, but she stopped for a second. You don't look like you belong- you were different, sweet, and innocent-looking compared to the rest of the audience. But she doesn't let her eyes linger long, she has a show to put on after all.

She turned, and walked towards the stage stairs, and centered herself behind the mic. She shifted her weight on her feet, and took one last drag of the cigarette before suffocating the embers on a ashtray near the edge of the stage.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" She barely could make out before the crowds hollering drowned out her voice. She laughed into the mic while plugging a cord into her guitar that was connected to a beefy looking amp.

Her ego was at its biggest right now- just her mere appearance could make a group of strangers act like dogs, and she fucking loved it.

She played a few cords on the guitar, ensuring the tune was where she wanted it before looking back up into the crowd, "c'mon, you can do better than that." And even though her mouth was covered by the mic, you could tell she was smirking.

The crowd cheered louder, fists clenched high above the sea of heads, and chanted her name over and over exactly how she wanted them to.

And for you? Well, you were also chanting her name, maybe not as loud, but you were too busy squeezing your way through to get to the front.

She needed to be able to see you.

And she did see you- you were front row, playfully singing and dancing along, your bright, twinkling eyes boring into every little thing she did- from the way she'd run her hand through the front of her hairline, ridding her face of the baby hairs and bangs, down to the way her fingers curled over the frets of her guitar. She made sure to look elsewhere into the crowd, interacting with everyone, but her eyes always found themselves back on you.

Ellie closed out the show with an encore, most of the crowd was overly intoxicated at this point, stumbling, and starting meaningless fights with whoever was closest- aka the usual time you'd leave, but you couldn't, at least, not when Ellie was walking towards you, her eyes set on you. You glanced to your right then your left- confused, and definitely was searching for an explanation as to why she was getting closer. Surely, it was someone else who caught her attention, but it was only you nearby.

You take a step back from the stage as the tips of her dirty converse near the edge. She bends down at the knees before sitting all together, dangling her legs over the edge. She doesn't say anything, and you didn't either, maybe from intimidation mixed with confusion as to why she chose to sit here out of all places.

She reaches her tattooed arm behind, shifting her weight to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and offering the carton to you, but you shyly decline. She smirked, a dimple deepening on the one side of her cheek, "So-" She said, her voice momentarily muffled by the cigarette between her lips, "-you don't look like you're from here, where'd you come from, baby?" She ignited the end with a metal lighter, holding a free hand up to cover the flame which only amplified the warm glow of the flame on her face.

You chuckled a nervous laugh, looking down at your fingers as she blew out a puff of smoke, "M' not. I'm from up north. " Your voice trembled, leaking with submission and uncertainty which only fascinated her more, but also she was frustrated- most girls wouldn't need a conversation to know what Ellie wanted from them, and you weren't looking at her.

She grabs your hand, and pulls you closer to the space between her knees. A sharp breath gets caught in your throat as she does this, your cheeks hot, and your gut feels like it's jumping being this close to her- enough to smell the fumes of her cologne mixed with ash. You watch her fingers come up and hover over your chest, her fingers gently dancing along the skin of your clavicle to examine the charm of your necklace, but really it was just a flirtation tactic to her.

"What's a girl like you doing in the desert in the middle of the night, huh?" She asked, dropping her voice down to an almost whisper- raspy, and thick with suggestion. You shake your head side to side, a nervous tick of yours when you felt uncomfortable, but being uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing.

"I uh-" you paused, mentally wavering if you should tell the truth since it does seem a little pathetic. "-I wanted to see you play."

Ellie's eyebrows raise, her bottom lip puckering into a frown with a slight nod. "Is that so?" She hummed, rolling the edges of the charm between her fingers. Ellie was certain she had seen you before. It wasn't a trick of the light or getting your face confused with some other hot chick- you were unmistakable. But she didn't want you to know that she found you out, not yet, not now.

Ellie learned in further, your knees almost buckling out from under you, feeling her breath against your lips. She played it off like she was getting a closer look at your necklace, extending the religious symbolic charm out so the chain tugged on your neck. "Do you believe?" She asked, still looking at the damn necklace, furrowing her brows like she was in a deep philosophical thought.

You swallowed dryly, wishing you still had your drink from easier, "N-not really-" you stuttered, "it was a gift from when I was younger."

Ellie chuckled, but it wasn't lighthearted or sweet- it was dark, methodical, and a tad bit sadistic.

She released the charm from her fingers, letting it hit your bare chest with a muted thud before looking up. Her eyes were a darker shade than you remembered them being- irises blown out and framed beautifully by a thick band of dark eyelashes.

Her hand reached out and gently grabbed you by the wrist before yanking you closer so your tummy was flush with the side of the stage, leaving only a few inches between your tits and the denim of her crotch.

You inhaled a sharp, breathy yelp as she did this, your hands not knowing what to do or where to divert your eyes- her hands on you, her face so close to yours that you could count the freckles on her cheeks, even the ones that are faint enough to miss- or maybe how her thighs were drifting apart, and you were in between them.

Her hand comes up, which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, but the wrinkles around your eyes relax as you feel her hand on your face and her lips on yours. You moaned instantly at the contact, resting your hand on her thigh where it felt most comfortable. Ellie took this opportunity to slip her tongue inside, using the muscle to work against yours. Her hand snakes down your side, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip before pulling away, leaving you breathless, and hazy.

Her eyes were intense looking into yours, her lips wet and craving a deeper satisfaction.

She only said one thing, a simple sentence that would separate you from being just some regular fan,

"Come with me tonight, and I'll show you something worth believing."

So that's how your night shifted- how one decision to follow some band across the state had finally paid off because now you were here- a hotel room, alone with the band's most valuable member snorting lines of a white powdery substance off of a mirror topped end table.

Ellie held the rolled 20 between her fingers, putting the end of it to her nose while the index on her other closed the opposing nostril shut. She dragged the end of the cylinder across the smuggled surface, inhaling deeply until the white line disappeared behind it.

"Fuuck-" She sighed, throwing her head back, and swipes the bottom of her nose with her thumb,

"Here-" She held out the rolled 20 for you to take, but you lean away,

"I don't do that stuff."

She looks at you curiously, a furrow between her brows that suggests she found your refusal even more entertaining.

Ellie leaned forward and turned her body to face you on the edge of the dusty duvet, "What-" She scoffed, "'think you're too good for it?"

You shook your head violently, indicating a 'no', "No- no, that's not what I meant-"

Ellie laughed, causing you to stop mid-sentence, "I'm just fucking with you, doll. I should've known." She smiles, and you return the smile in relief that you didn't actually offend her.

Your eyes divert to the wallpapered walls- a faint pattern of stripes with cream-colored baseboards, a warm yellowed lamp on the bedside being the only source of light in the room to contrast the night outside.

You felt her hand creep up your thigh, tempting the skin below the hem of your dress before it disappeared underneath the fabric altogether. She leaned in, her other hand on your face to encourage you closer, whispering a "so soft" in a raspy breath before connecting your lips with hers.

It started slow- her lips overlapping yours like a soft current on a still morning before it turned into a ranging one during a windy cast. You moaned into her- soft and delicate mews between each detachment, and it fueled her.

Ellie's body overpowered yours, using her strength to her advantage. But it's not like she needed it- you were putty in her hands, fully committing yourself to her, letting her push you into your back, and her body hovering on top of yours.

You squirmed beneath her- each bump, and drag of her knee between your legs left you feeling more desperate.

"Ellie-" you broke the kiss in a breathless euphoria, looking up at her with a needy expression. Ellie knew that face well- it's not like she had all this experience and didn't know what to do with it, so- she got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and walked over to a black duffle bag decorated with pins of miscellaneous logos and bands.

She riffled through it, pulling a small clear plastic bag out before joining you back on the bed.

She opened the baggie, pulling something out no bigger than the size of a postage stamp, and tearing it into smaller halves before looking up,

"Do you trust me?" She asked, her green eyes piercing into yours, causing a wet sensation to spill from the heat between your legs. You swallowed, not really sure what you were agreeing to, but you nodded anyway, "Yes, Ellie... I trust you."

She placed the colorfully decorated paper on her tongue and held the sides of your face, kissing you and slipping her tongue inside, transferring whatever it was into your mouth before pulling away. "Swallow." She demanded, tilting your face up by your chin, and you did it without hesitation- straining the walls of your throat as the mystery stamp slid downwards.

She smirked, and swiped her thumb over your bottom lip, "good girl."

She followed it up by doing the same, placing the tab on her tongue and swallowing, but she made it seem so much more intentional like a ritual of some sorts.

Ellie leaned away from you in the bed to rest her back against the headboard and pillows, "C'mere" she said nonchalantly, patting her thighs.

With shaky knees, you did as you were told and crawled your way up her legs until you were straddling her waist.

Her hands come up to rest on your hips, her thumbs tracing circles through the flimsy fabric of your dress, "so obedient" she said lightly, almost under her breath to herself and not at you directly.

Her hands started to wander- first on your hips, then down to your thighs, gliding them up to the plush beneath your skirt. You felt her fingertip squeeze and caress, sending chills up your spine and a hot/cold sensation throughout your body.

Next, her lips were on yours, and her fingers were tightening the follicles on the back of your scalp as the kisses became more intense. Your back instinctively arches, and you reach a hand between your legs to soothe the ache, but she stops you with a firm grip on your wrist, "Gettin' impatient, huh?" She said in a cocky tone, smirking against your lips. You whimpered- nodding your head, and grabbed her hand, inching it closer to your core.

Ellie chucked at this- the kind of chuckle that was half way a scoff, and half way felt like an insult.

"Damn- you need me to fill you up that bad? 'thought you were one of them good girls."

She tisked her tongue against her teeth, but still let you guid her hand where you needed her.

The back of her knuckles grazed between the pillowy folds over your panties, going agonizingly slow before turning her hand over to fully palm your cunt.

You melt on top of her, resting your head against her shoulder, all the while dragging your hips against her hand.

She turns her head, her warm breath fanning against the helix of your ear, "You're so wet and I've barely touched you."

Her words echoed throughout your brain like her voice waves were sending signals to every part of your body. And her touch was magnified- each cell, fiber, and pore was experiencing a new sense of heightened, whether it be because of the drugs or not, you couldn't be sure.

"El-Ellie, please... need you."

Your words rang a siren song to Ellie's ears, creating a sticky pool between her own legs. She muttered a guttural "fuck" before she grabs you by the sides of your thighs, flipping you over so she was on top of you.

She was already yanking down your underwear, and tossing them to the side before you could comprehend what was happening. You felt her fingers stinging to the flesh of your thighs, prying them apart like she couldn't wait to see you, to taste you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as her tongue lightly traced a line down your folds before her lips met your clit where she pulsated the bud between her lips, letting out a moan as she made contact, "fuuck-" She curses before flicking her tongue over your bundle of nerves, igniting a colorful array of shapes behind your tightly closed eyes.

She was messy but precise- using her tongue along with the motion of her head to send you that much further. Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging harder the closer you got which was the perfect time in Ellie's eyes to add a finger.

She slowly pushed her middle finger inside, stopping halfway at her knuckle to let you adjust before slamming it all the way till her knuckles were snug against your puffy lips.

You wriggled beneath her, reaching out to push her away with a palm to her shoulder, but that only makes her add a second finger.

You cry out loudly through heavy breaths, the veins on her forearm coming to the surface of her skin from how much force she was using, and her mouth putting in just as much work.

You were climbing higher and higher, the peripheral of your vision going white-

"Ellie... I'm- I'm gonna-" You don't have much time to warn her before your body starts to spaz, starting at your hips and up into your chest like volts of electricity through a highly active current.

Your knees close around her head, your back arching high off the mattress, and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. She slows her pace as you come down before pulling her fingers out and lifting her head.

With your eyes closed, and an arm draped over your face, you feel her pat the inside of your thigh before her weight leaves the bed.

She comes back a couple of minutes later, only opening your eyes when you feel her weight return to the mattress.

Your eyes go wide as you take notice of the new attachment- a black, strappy harness with buckles near her hips, and a crude shaped silicone cock bulging at her crotch.

She lowers herself over you, her hands on each side of your head before she leans down to kiss you, slipping her tongue inside. She pulled back, momentarily admiring the way you looked just from something as simple as oral and some fingering- glossy eyes, puffy lips smeared with her spit, and if she looked down- how your inner thighs glistened.

Her lips trial from yours, staring at your neck, then your chest, and finally your tits which Ellie had absolutely no problem with pulling the straps down to expose them, leaving the fabric bunched around your stomach. In her eyes, everything she wanted- no, needed was accessible this way.

Ellie looks up, placing a delicate kiss on the skin of your lower stomach, "Got one more fr' me, pretty girl?" She asked softly, tenderly, but it still managed to come off more intimidating than a question should sound.

You nodded shyly, a small whine emitting from the back of your throat, looking down at her with your breasts out for her viewing, grabbing pleasure, and your legs spread wide, ready to take her.

She lifted her upper half up, slim fingers holding the base of her cock, and lined the artificial tip with your entrance. She glided the tip up your folds, coating it with your slick, and let out a sultry exhale since she could practically see your walls clenching around nothing in preparation for her.

She teased you for a bit- only giving you a couple of inches before backing away and repeating, each time causing you to whine harder and harder out of frustration. Sure, Ellie was having her fun watching you squirm, grab for her, and fuck- how your hole gapped each time she pulled out, a clear, viscous fluid leaking from it, but she was growing just as impatient- feeling your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, pleading variations of her name and "please" and who is she to deny you when you ask so nicely?

She thrusts her hips forward until her crotch was flesh with your ass, your legs in the air, and her hands pushing on the back of your thighs.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?" She gritted, pulling her hips back only to snap them forward again.

You cried out loudly, curling your fingers around the bedsheets until the blood stopped circulating, turning the skin there a lighter shade than the rest of you.

She pushed harder on the back of your thighs- your knees pressed up against your chest, and using what you can imagine is all of her strength to thrust into you. She was reaching the deepest part of your cervix- grunting and moaning on Ellie's end while you mewled high-pitched noises mixed with the wet slapping of her cock repeatedly slamming into you.

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly upward, and her lips parted as insufficient, short breaths seep from them. Her hips started to falter from the endless abuse her clit was suffering behind the base of her strap, her boxers now a sticky, cold mess that stuck to her cunt and thighs.

She collapses on top of you, snugging herself between your legs to connect her lips to yours in a desperate effort, overpowering all your senses with her. She continues to fill you over and over again, both of you moaning in between breathless lips.

You wrapped her arms around her as her head hung low into your neck, digging your nails into the skin of her shoulder blades.

"El... mmhm- I'm gonna-" You babbled before biting your lip to silence the cry that was bubbling in the back of your throat, and Ellie wasn't far behind.

The pistoning motions of her hips turned into a grinding one- keeping a steady pace and rolling her hips forward, "M-me too- fuck... stay with me, yeah?" She said in between soft pants, the warmth of her breath brushing against your lips as her hand came up to gently but firmly wrap around your neck.

Ellie's head goes fuzzy as you looked up at her with your half-hooded gaze and your perfectly rosette lips that are just begging to be wrapped around something, so- she released the hold she had on your neck and brought her two fingers that were previously inside of you to your mouth.

She didn't even have to say anything for you to part your lips wider, slipping her fingers inside and rolling them over your tongue.

You moan, closing your lips around her as her fingers reach further back, causing tears to fall from the corner of your eyes.

"That's it-" She coaxed, her eyes focused on the split trailing down your chin,"-such a good girl."

She motioned her fingers in and out in a vulgar manner, bitting her bottom lip before pulling her fingers out all together to fist the bed sheets beside her.

"Fuckfuckfuck-oh my god-" She grunted incoherently, dropping her head to space between your neck and shoulder. Her forehead glistened with proof of her efforts as she rushed the pace to ease the itch between her legs.

You tightened your legs around her waist, pretty little noises falling on Ellie's ears as you both peak.

She rolls her hips- making it slow and deep until your voice grows tired and quiet before pushing her upper half away from you.

You wince at her absence, feeling your walls retract back to its original shape like the sand inside of an hourglass.

She plopped down beside you with an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion, pulling up the bottom of her tank top to wipe the slick/sweat mixture from her chin and nose, giving you a few seconds to admire her hardened stomach and prominent 'v' which lead your eyes down to the fake dick still standing high between her thighs.

She catches you looking, the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk as she lets out a low chuckle.

You meet her eyes, realizing you have been caught, which causes you to look away quickly, but her hand grabs yours.

"Gettin' shy on me now after all that?" She said, pulling at your hand to silently instruct you to get on top of her, so you did.

Her hands rub up and down your thighs, and her bottom lip snug between her teeth. She eyes your body, starting from your tits down to her cock that is resting against your lower stomach.

"Wanna do me a favor?" She asked, palming the fat of your thigh that spilled over the heels of your feet. You hummed at her- a sweet, genuine hum that was full of eagerness to assist her, which almost made Ellie feel bad for what she was about to say- key word almost.

"Put that pretty little mouth of yours to use and clean me up."

1K notes · View notes

halfvalid · 7 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you.

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal.

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew.

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue.

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom.

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement.

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?”

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?”

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!”

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.”

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.”

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing.

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market.

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?”

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.”

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.”

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.”

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.”

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth.

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked.

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.”

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade.

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.”

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—”

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.”

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back.

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.”

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?”

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes.

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!”

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back.

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.”

“I don’t see why we can’t just—”

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him.

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position.

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store.

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face.

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—”

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart.

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now.

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.”

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think.

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this.

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe.

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat.

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.”

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?”

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.”

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would.

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly.

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point.

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with.

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more.

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development.

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.”

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him.

“I am not.”

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.”

“Leave me alone,” you muttered.

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.”

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?”

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.”

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed.

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.”

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.”

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?”

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.”

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.”

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered.

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue.

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit.

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured.

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered.

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth.

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back.

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation.

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?”

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.”

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours.

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.”

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember.

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties.

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered.

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.”

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length.

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point.

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss.

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge.

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite.

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him.

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning.

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side.

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.”

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it.

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage.

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.”

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro smut #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #reader insert #x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #smut #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

2K notes · View notes

rowretro · 2 months

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𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕?

✧warnings: fluff, slut shaming, kissing

♡synopsis: The bad boy Riki, has fallen for a rather girly girl, the kind of girl that many girls wouldn't expect guys to fall for. Y/n in her stylish outfits which were always admired by all, had the attention of Riki, and that seemed tick certain girls off.

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Riki groaned as he saw you walk down the hallway. One would assume it's because of how much you dress up just to go to school, or the supermarket. That's not the reason. Fuck he loves it, your style, your creative, the fact that half your accessories, or very pretty clothes were made by you. He loves that you're like a fresh wave of energy that suddenly brings a dry, dead, withering flowers, to life again. Sometimes, though, the boys love your outfits, for all the wrong reasons.

"Y/n for fucksake pull your skirt down!" Riki said, audible enough for just you to hear, he pulled you to himself. His eyes scanning the pink, delicate shimmer on your eyelids, Pretty, spikey eyelashes that were perfectly stuck on, Oh and how could he forget those glossy, kissable lips? a few, tiny iridescent hearts evident. Pink bows decorating your braided hair. "but why? it looks cute when it's short" she said, it's not like she was ever going to need to bend, she can't anyway, not with the 5 inch heels her feet carry around all day.

"You want to know what your outfit is missing? a nice leather jacket. Here have mine." He said, as he dressed you in his large leather jacket, ignoring your protests. You looked adorable in such a big jacket. You had no problem with leather jackets either, but this one specific Riki jacket made you look ridiculous. But there were people who had a bigger problem with it. Hwang Mihi.

Hwang Mihi would be described as a conventionally attractive, powder faced bitch. From her ridiculously rolled up short skirt, cakey makeup, and extremely bitchy personality. The girl had a problem with everyone and everything, specifically you. She's heard more people praise you than they praise her, you have more followers than her, and overall, you have the man she wants. Nishimura Riki.

"Rikiiii please~ it'll look good on you I swear!" you whined as Riki frowned. "I'm not wearing lipstick!" the man whined as you whined again "It's not a lipstick! it's a lip gloss stick it's not like you'll turn in to barbie with one swipe, idols wear this you know?" you reasoned as he sighed, leaning into you face. With a smile, you carefully applied the creamy, lip gloss stick, his eyes locked on your focused face, the close proximity making his heart beat faster than Usain Bolt ever ran. It fucking pissed Mihi off.

"How the fuck does a pink barbie carbon copy like you have MY man?!" She yelled, yanking at your braided hair, her tug so tight you had to bite her wrist to get out of her hold. "UGH U PASTE FACED FUCKER- U RUINED MY BRAID!" you yelled as suddenly a different person slapped the shit out of you. You could've sworn your brain left your body then entered it again. your head hit the wall behind you painfully hard, but as you pulled away to even process the first slap, you were painfully pushed up against the wall, and there before you was a much bigger male.

"You're such a pussy! you can't fight me yourself so you're using some guy who's dick you sucked?!!!" she asked, clearly knowing the man was one of the seniors that she used to be fwb with. Just for that, the male slapped her again, chocking her. "It's that fucking tongue isn't it?! If I rip it out you'll stop talking right?" Mihi asked as you frowned. "I have another way to silence her..." the male said with a smirk, his grip on your throat tightening as he tried to place his lips on hers.

Before his lips could even reach her lips, The male fell back, some of his teeth knocked out, his mouth bloody. "The fuck are you doing to my girlfriend?!!!" Riki asked as y/n stared at him in shock, heck even the girls were shook, they were fucking scared, never has Mihi ever seen her crush so pissed off, it was fucking scary. "J-just uh..." "Just what?! beating my future wife?! do u want to be scalped and dipped into lemon juice?!!!" He asked cracking his knuckles as the girl stuttered and ran off with her minions.

Riki didn't even get the chance to check on you, as your horrified scream filled the hallways. "Fuck y/n how bad did he hurt you?" he asked, kneeling down before you as you stared at your forehand in horror "MY NAIL SNAPPED! SO LONG OF HARD WORK BROKE JUST LIKE THAT." she exclaimed as Riki stood up, sighing. "I'll take that as a yes" he mumbled.

"Girlfriend? Future wife? what was that about?" you asked staring up at him as he smiled "I guess you called call it my confession..." he said as you frowned "Try again" you said as Riki snickerred "Y/n... I love you, and I want to fucking show you that everyday, so give me a chance baby" he said as you blinked. She felt her own blush, he's perfect, everything she needed, but never did she think your dream man would love you.

"Hmm but what if I don't want to?" you teased. as Riki helped you up "My sister knows a great nail tech, she's expensive but worth the price, how bout you treat your pretty hands for some prettier nails, and I'll pay all the expenses?" he asked as the girl pouted. "You don't need to bribe me like that... let me do it instead." You said, then kissed his lips, his eyes widening in shock as you smiled. "Lets skip school im gonna treat you to the best shopping spree you'd ever experience." He said as his arm snaked around your waist.

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787 notes · View notes

borathae · 2 years

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↳ Index [Day 20 - Gunplay]

Pairing: Gangster!Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, arranged marriage, gunplay, oral to a gun, big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, tattoos & piercings, thigh riding, spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f. & m.receiving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, rough & passionate sex in front a window, she rides him, the trope of “this is the first night where the sex feels real and not like a marital duty”

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel...feelings. too many of them. most of carnal nature. some of deeply emotional nature. this story did too many things to me, holy fuck i need air. besties, Kinktober hits different because we can be totally unhinged together and i am loving the adventure ❤

You fucked up. You are aware that you did. Five men are dead, slaughtered because you trusted the wrong person. Seven barely escaped death and the rest were either hurt or pissed.

Taehyung’s with you, cleaning the cut on your cheek a broken bottle left. You think someone threw it at you, but you blacked out before you could see who did it.

“Hurts”, you groan.

“I know, sorry. It must be done”, Taehyung answers you, replacing the blood soaked cotton swap with a new one. Soaked in disinfectant, he presses it against your wound, eliciting another hiss of discomfort from you.

“So what are we gonna tell him?” Jimin asks the question the rest of the group was too afraid to ask.

“The truth, what else?” Namjoon says dryly, fingers busy with stopping the bleeding on his arm by pressing a cloth to it.

“Yeah and risk her getting shot? Nah thanks”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“People died”, Namjoon hisses, eyes lowered in anger, “Yoongi’s still out and guess shit about how Hoseok’s surgery is going.”

“She didn’t shoot them did she?”

“She could have very well pulled the fucking trigger.”

You avoid looking at Namjoon, knowing very well that he would probably kill you with just a look if he could. You understand him. You’re angry at yourself as well. You weren’t careful enough and let the details of the meeting meet the wrong people, ending in the cops busting you in the middle of the deal.

“Where is she?!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts through the air like thunder.

Your stomach twists in fear. He’s back.

“Oh fuck”, Seokjin gasps, looking at the opened door and regretting not having closed it.

“Where is she? Where’s my fucking wife?” Jungkook screams outside.

You exchange a panicky look with the others.

"Is she in there?" Jungkook spits, voice sounding as if he is just by the door.

“Sir wait, they aren’t done-“, one of your guards stumbles into the room and falls forcefully.

“What the hell?” Jimin exclaims, staring at the groaning guard.

Seconds later the reason for his fall appears in the door frame.

Jungkook. Black hair messy, eyes dangerously dark in anger and tattooed knuckles bruised from the punch he just threw.

“Don't fucking talk to me like that, cunt”, he spits at the guard.

“I-I'm sorry Sir”, the guard stutters, holding his aching cheek.

“Tzt.”

Jungkook rolls his shoulders and lifts his head, eyes running over the room and landing on you.

They lower in anger, head tilting to the side in this distinct almost hunter like manner Jungkook always gets when he is in the mood for carnage.

“You wanna fucking tell me what happened?” he hisses, voice calm but you know better than to trust it. You know what Jungkook does with traitors and you are currently the main suspect for the leak.

“I didn’t know Yeonseok would leak that shit”, you say.

“Don't give me that bullshit, you knew exactly what kinda fuck he is”, Jungkook spits.

“I didn’t. Listen. I really didn’t. If I had, I’d have shot him.”

“Bullshit. You’re working for them. Ugly fucking undercover pig”, Jungkook growls, reaching for the side. Hidden behind his suit jacket and strapped into a belt, his gun is waiting to be used.

“Hey Kook”, Jimin’s on his feet and in front of Jungkook instantly, “I believe her. She didn’t know Yeonseok was the snitch. We thought Lee would leak the shit, but he got shot. Nobody suspected Yeonseok, especially not ___.”

"I don't believe this", Jungkook growls, taking a step closer with his dark eyes never leaving your face. Jimin stops him, strong hand on Jungkook’s heaving up and down chest and muscles tensing under the turtleneck.

“Think”, he insists, “why would she work for them? The fucking pigs killed her brother, the last thing she'd do is kiss their fucking boots.”

Jungkook fights Jimin, lips curled back in an angry huff of air.

“Let alone betray you. She’s your wife. She chose you, didn’t she?” Jimin adds, finally managing to change Jungkook’s gaze from you to him.

His hand slips from his gun, he stops fighting Jimin. Now standing still.

“She didn’t choose shit”, Jungkook spits and pushes himself away from Jimin. He walks to the door in heavy steps, “clean this fucking shit up once you’re done”, he hisses.

“Where are you going?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder.

“Making sure Yoongi’s got someone with him if he decides to actually bite the dust”, he spits, eyes landing on you for one last deadly look, “fucking shitshow”, he whispers and turns to leave.

The front door slams closed seconds later.

“Well fuck”, you press out, sinking in on yourself, “thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it”, Jimin answers you, currently helping the guard back up on his feet.

The air is tense in the room. You all know very well that this wasn’t over yet.

The penthouse is empty when Jungkook returns. Safe for the guards out front, everyone else left.

You didn’t. Obviously, because you live here even if the downstairs was poisoned by work. Upstairs maybe a little bit of home was present. Stuff like memoirs or sweet pictures of you and your husband weren’t present, but at least the lingering stench of blood, drugs and metal wasn’t present upstairs.

You don’t know if you loved your husband. You are pretty sure he doesn’t love you. Your marriage is a business contract between two wealthy crime families, making sure their money gets secured. You accepted, Jungkook accepted and that was the story of your love. Sex was okay because he's obsessed with perfection and that goes for sex too. Passion or tenderness obviously wasn’t present during those moments, because Jungkook sees sex as much of a task as his other things. Torture, fighting, murder, bringing in money with little loss. Those things have to be calculated and follow a certain pattern to be perfect in his eyes. The same goes for sex. Intimacy wasn’t present either, safe for the moments where he walked around naked in front of you or told you to show off a set of lingerie for him, but that was only because you were married and he saw those acts as duty. Romance was present once. You remember it clearly. It was a Sunday. The 16th of July two years ago. The sun was warm and the organisation was quiet for once. Jungkook took you out for ice cream that day and told you that he thought the dress you wore was pretty. You saw him smile that day and thought that he almost looked innocent when he smiled. You never saw him smile again since that day.

You don’t know if you loved Jungkook and you know he didn’t love you. But that was okay because you didn’t expect him to.

You were sleeping when Jungkook came home. You wake when he has already showered. He is sitting by the foot end of your bed, legs spread and arms resting on his thighs so he can make his lower arms tangle between them. He is shirtless, giving view to his tattooed torso. His lower body is covered by a towel, his hair is tied into a messy bun. He is overlooking the city. The Empire, which one day will be his' with you as the ruling Queen by his side. That is if he doesn’t decide to murder you tonight.

“Husband?” you try quietly, hoping for a moment that he won’t hear you.

He inhales loudly, straightening his back.

“Go back to sleep”, he says coldly, eyes never once breaking away from the city. It looks so small from your bedroom window, but this is only an illusion made by just how high up you are.

You often walk in on him jerking off right by the windows and with his hand in a punishing rhythm. Jungkook fucking loves standing by the windows and getting off to how small and tiny everything looks. The king standing on his throne and looking down at his suspects. He fucking cums like crazy to that thought.

“How is Yoongi?” you ask him.

“Alive for now.”

“That's such a relief to hear”, you say honestly.

“Mhm.”

“And the others? How did the surgeries go?”

“Good. They’ll all live.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so relieved right now.”

“Mhm.”

You sit up to crawl to him. You snake your arms around him, making him tense up and lift his head proudly. You aren’t wearing much more than panties and a bra. Not very comfortable, but you thought that maybe if you dressed yourself in Jungkook’s favourite set tonight, he won’t kill you the instant he laid eyes on you. It seems to be working, given how you are still breathing.

The little clothing results in your naked stomach coming into contact with his naked back. His skin feels cold in comparison to yours.

“Tae and Jin captured Yeonseok. He tried to take one of the boats to flee to Jeju. Did you hear?” you tell him.

“Yes.”

“What will happen to him now?”

“Why? So you can save him? Well, too fucking late. I already skinned the bastard. Cut off his cock too, made him eat it cause it’s what lying fucking pigs deserve”, he says almost nonchalantly.

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. You mask the gag you wanted to do by inhaling deeply, dancing your hands to Jungkook’s sculpted pecs. You don’t really want to touch him right now, this is solely to fight for your life.

“That's good to hear”, you whisper, kissing his shoulder, “I would have done far worse to him.”

“Tzt yeah sure”, Jungkook scoffs, moving away from you.

You study his face as best as you can see it from this position. His brows are creasing, eyes as dark as the night and lips turned downwards into a frown. You rest your chin on his shoulder, hands coming to rest on his pecs. His heart is racing like crazy in his chest, letting you know that despite his calm exterior he was in utter distress inside. You rub slow circles on his skin, making him react by flexing his pecs because his nipples are sensitive and the touch is affecting him.

“I'm loyal to you, husband”, you say, trailing your kisses to his neck, “please believe me.”

Jungkook rolls his head to the side, exposing his neck to your lips. You kiss his skin. He tastes like hints of his cologne. Smells like it too.

He keeps on staring out at the city, lips pursed in anger and eyes cold.

“And I’m loyal to the organisation. It’s all that matters to me”, you say, taking his pierced ear between your teeth to nibble on it softly.

Jungkook closes his eyes, relaxing his brows. You don’t see it happening as you are too busy licking and kissing his piercings. You know that he’s into that shit.

“I'd suffocate you”, he rasps.

You try not to falter in your kisses, hoping that he can’t feel your heart speeding up in fear.

“I'd want you struggling and fighting for life. I'd do it with my bare hands to feel your last breath leave you.”

Only now do you notice the gun tangling from his fingers. Did he bring this here to shoot you? Are you currently kissing your murderer's neck? Is that why his heart is racing? Because deep down he is nervous to kill his wife, but he knows that he has to?

“That's how I'd kill you if you ever betrayed me”, he says, eyes flitting to the distorted version of your bodies in the window’s reflection. Him towering over the city and you holding him close. The image could be beautiful if the air wasn’t so tense and you cared so very little for each other. He locks eyes with you.

You gulp, barely controlling your breathing. This is it. This is the moment you’re looking into death's eyes.

“How's your cheek?” Jungkook however asks, flustering you.

“It's… it won’t scar”, you say, stumbling back when Jungkook turns.

He pulls you back by grabbing you by your chin. He moves your head from left to right, dark eyes glued to the now bandaged cut on your cheek.

“Did you see who did that to you?” he asks.

“No, it happened way too fast.”

“Mhm”, Jungkook brushes his thumb over the band aid, “thank fuck it missed your eye.”

“Uh..yes…I guess…”

One must know that stuff like genuine worry for each other, affection and concern were nonexistent in your marriage. It is important to know so one can understand why you were so entirely flabbergasted by your husband’s concern right now. Jungkook never cares. Did seeing Yoongi almost die tonight affect him so much that he is becoming affectionate now? Or is this his way of saying goodbye before he finally kills you?

Jungkook pulls you closer, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in fear. His strong hand lands on the back of your head.

His kisses your bandaged cheek.

Your breath trembles as it leaves you.

Your eyes open quickly, locking with his’. They are still dark, racing between yours and looking almost hypnotising from the close proximity you and him find yourselves in.

Jungkook moves in and kisses your lips as he keeps on staring at you, fingers tightening more and more on the back of your head.

You sigh shakily, squeezing your eyes shut because you can’t bear to look into his eyes when his lips claim yours so angrily. His teeth bite your lower lip, his tongue licks over it, his lips suck harshly. You reach for him for support, nails scratching down his arm as softly as possible.

The kiss breaks, strings of saliva keep you connected but they break just seconds later, now covering your skin. You peel your eyes open, meeting his unfaltering gaze. Your hands slip from him again.

He can see the uncertainty and confusion on your face, but he won’t call you out on it.

“You and your loyalty are mine, don’t forget that”, he rasps.

“I won’t”, you whisper, “and I never did”, you add just in case it wasn’t clear to him yet.

Jungkook slips his hand from your head and turns back to the city. He is playing with his gun mindlessly, eyes racing over the millions and millions of lights down below. You are sitting, daring not to move let alone breathe. The air shouldn’t be so tense anymore, but it is. Jungkook cared for your cheek, kissed you and told you his version of an I Love You. You don’t know what is happening. This isn’t your husband.

You let your eyes flit to the reflection of your bodies, coming to the scary revelation that Jungkook wasn’t staring at the city, but at you. He twists the gun in his fingers, making the safety click once.

You gulp. Now you understand. This was his goodbye. His last attempt to be affectionate before he shoots you.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper shakily, eyes burning in tears.

Jungkook acknowledges you with a cock of his right brow, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He lowers his head, eyes locking on the gun. His thumb runs over the cold metal, his jaw clenches.

“Stand up”, he finally says.

You follow with shaking knees, biting down on your tongue in order not to start sobbing.

Jungkook grips your wrist and tugs you right in front of him. You try not to squeak, let alone breathe too quickly.

He lets go of your wrist once he is happy with your position, placing both his hands on your waist. The coldness of the gun feels unbearable on your skin, digging into your flesh and leaving deep shivers behind.

He dances his hands up your torso. His thumbs are on your tummy, tracing the pearl netting which is spanning itself over your upper stomach.

You don’t dare to look down, eyes glued to the mirror behind your bed. There was another mirror right above your bed because Jungkook is obsessed with watching himself when you fuck. He also fucking loves it that you have to stare at yourself when he’s got you on your back, folded in half and with his huge cock drilling into your puffy pussy.

Jungkook leans in, connecting his lips with your tummy.

You can’t stop yourself from gasping or flinching for that matter. You bite down on your lower lip to stop more noises from slipping out of you, shifting your gaze even further up the wall just so you can’t accidentally look down at him.

His tongue darts out just to lick a thick stripe up your stomach until the position naturally breaks the contact.

Your skin prickles where he licked it, the air of the room feels ice cold while your body is burning up. All of this isn’t your husband. All of this swerves so far out of the patterns he made up for sex and you don’t know what that means.

“You’re so fucking sexy”, he rasps, lifting his head and realising that you aren’t looking at all. He furrows his brows, clenching his jaw. Why aren’t you looking? You are supposed to look when he’s worshipping you.

“Get on your fucking knees”, he orders in a growl.

You follow instantly, folding your hands on your lap and looking at the ground. Jungkook tilts your head up with the gun under your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him even if that was the last thing you currently want to do.

“Why are you avoiding eye contact?” he asks, pupils dilated in anger.

“I-I…I’m sorry”, you stutter, widening your eyes for good measures.

Jungkook studies your features and your body. You carry fear in your eyes, your thumbs fumble with each other secretly, your thighs are pressed together in nervousness. Jungkook looks at the gun under your chin and understands.

He pulls it away and with a press, releases the magazine. It falls into his palm. He twirls it between his fingers and shows it to you.

Your eyes widen in shock.

It’s empty.

Jungkook presses the button to let you know the barrel was empty too.

Your eyes flit up to Jungkook’s face, racing restlessly in an attempt to make sense of all of this.

Jungkook slams the magazine back into the gun and takes your face between his fingers. He tugs you closer, leaning in to meet you in the middle.

“This isn’t your fucking punishment, get that outta your head”, he hisses.

“O-okay”, you stutter, feeling your heart skip a few beats from having him so close. His breath smells like minty toothpaste.

“You think I’m gonna shoot you? Like a coldblooded murderer?” he squeezes your cheeks, “I told you how I’d kill you, didn’t I? You think I’d not already have done it if I wanted you dead? That I’d let you sleep while I was taking a shower? No”, he moves closer, brushing his lips against yours to whispers darkly, “if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Wife.”

“Oh”, you press out, shoulders sagging in relief and eyes spilling tears. He forgave you. Jungkook forgave you. You aren’t going to die tonight. The gun is solely a prop in some sick play of power and sex.

Jungkook wipes your tears away with a rough thumb, taking your cheeks back between his fingers afterwards.

“Don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you. You know that I don’t do that”, he whispers softly.

"I know", you get out, sniffling like crazy to get rid of the desire to sob.

"Good", he says and with one push to your lips feeds you his thumb.

You suck on it instantly, having done so a thousand times before. That shit is familiar to you. Having to suck off Jungkook’s fingers is a routine to you.

You were so ready to do it for minutes, but Jungkook already pulls out after nothing but five eager sucks, leaving you to chase him with a trembling sigh.

He straightens up and pulls the gun back into your vision. He holds it tightly, positioning it right between his thighs in a way so that the barrel would face the ceiling.

“Suck it like you’d suck my cock”, he orders.

You hesitate, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“Did I stutter? Suck my fucking gun”, he hisses, placing his hand at the back of your head to push you closer.

You eye the cold gun, gulping nervously. You know that it was empty and safe, but the thought still scares you. Sucking his cock is easy because his shape is familiar to your lips and tongue. But the gun is new. He never asked you to do that before. Of course he didn’t, because it wasn’t part of the pattern on normal nights.

Jungkook tightens his grip on your head, giving you an impatient push. There is no going back. You scoot closer, placing your hands over his’ and lowering your lips to the gun. You kiss the tip first like you would do his cock, feeling his fingers twitch on the back of your head. You can’t see it but Jungkook is staring down at you without ever blinking, frowning but with his chest heaving up and down quickly.

You close your lips around the barrel and sink down slowly.

Jungkook exhales loudly and opens his thighs just slightly, acting as if you finally took in his cock. Even his fingers tighten on your head.

The gun tastes weird. Metal and grease. You are pretty sure that you shouldn’t have those things in your mouth, but you won’t say anything. You slip off of it for a catch of breath, getting pushed back down instantly.

“Don’t stop”, he orders in a rasp, moving your head up and down slowly, “fucking suck it like you mean it.”

You moan for him, squeezing his hand. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing is ragged. You don’t suck on it like you would his cock, merely letting the barrel glide over your tongue. It hits the back of your throat with each movement, tickling out your gag reflex more and more.

“There we go, so fucking good”, Jungkook rasps above you, staring down at you with blown-out pupils. Your lips look so good wrapped around the black metal. They move so nicely as you fuck your face with it.

The barrel is a lot smaller than Jungkook’s cock. Both in length and in girth. It is an easy task to have it in your mouth, even if the square shape and hardness is something to get used to. Other than that however, the size in itself isn’t all that bad. Sometimes when you suck Jungkook’s cock, your jaw hurts afterwards because of his size, so the gun is a welcome change. Even if the taste needs some getting used to.

It hits the back of your throat and finally triggers your gag reflex. You gag loudly, slipping off of it to prevent the worst case scenario. You wheeze and gasp for air, swallowing heavily.

“You sound so sweet”, Jungkook lulls, caressing the back of your head, “lick it for me.”

You place your tongue at the base of the gun, brushing against his fingers accidentally. Jungkook takes a deep breath in reaction, moving his hips in a slow squirm. Just once and then he is in control again.

You moan as you finally drag your tongue up the barrel, licking it as if you were licking the big vein on the underside of his cock. It feels so different than when you do it to him. Hard metal, unmoving unlike his vein which is always pulsating and throbbing when you lick it. You miss those sensations, craving them against the tip of your tongue.

“There we go, that’s it”, Jungkook whispers, voice shaky in arousal, “lick the tip, go on.”

You follow, swirling your tongue over the tip and moaning oh so hungrily.

“That’s it, fuck”, Jungkook tenses his thighs, relaxing them in a tremble, “such a good girl, fuck.”

Whimpering, you press the flat of the tongue right against the tip, grinding it back and forth quickly. Jungkook fucking loves when you do that to his tip, reacting with a sharp intake of breath now that he watches you do it to the gun.

“Fucking amazing, that’s fucking amazing”, he praises, voice raspy and just slightly lulled, “feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You mewl, nodding your head. And you mean it. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s praise and the utter pleasure in his voice, but licking his gun is starting to genuinely feel fucking good. You dig the tip of your tongue into the bullet hole, eliciting a deep growl from Jungkook.

“That’s it”, he whispers breathily, hand slipping from the back of your head to cup your cheek, “fuck, that’s it, doll.”

The nickname sends heat to your pussy. Honestly moaning, you take the gun back inside, letting it sink into your mouth until you can feel it at the back of your throat. It is a lot more difficult to get it inside than Jungkook’s cock. Not because of its size but because of its unmoving character. Jungkook’s cock bends, no matter how hard and swollen you’ve gotten him, there is still a slight bend to it, which makes it easier to get it inside. But the gun doesn’t bend, forcing you to bend yourself instead to get it inside.

You keen, dropping tears onto your cheeks. A needy shake courses through you, your left hand slips from his hand just to grab his thigh instead. His skin is hot as fire, his muscles are so hard under your palm. You squeeze desperately, whimpering around the gun. Somehow holding his strong thigh is helping you stay grounded. Maybe it even soothes you.

“Such a good girl”, Jungkook praises, slipping his hand back to your head. He grabs a bundle of your hair and twists softly, “Is that tasty? Mhm? Do you like how my gun tastes?”

You break away from it just to gaze up at him, almost forgetting what you wanted to say to him in the process because of his cock. You look at it for just a second too long. Completely hard and swollen, it’s standing against his toned stomach, having escaped the towel. It is even leaking, tip looking so wet and sticky. Holy fuck. Your pussy clenches around nothing. Holy fuck, he’s so hard.

“I…” you clear your throat, breaking your eyes away from his cock to look into his eyes, “…I love it”, you whisper shakily.

Jungkook drags his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tears away, eyes lowering in arousal.

“Yeah? You love it? More than my cock?”

You gulp.

“Tell me.”

“N-no your c-cock’s better”, you stutter, hoping that this is what he wanted to hear.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, lips curling into a cocky smirk.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say”, he rasps, squeezing your chin softly, “take off my towel.”

You scramble to your knees and reach for the knot. Jungkook rests back on his hands, having the drool covered gun resting beside him for now. He watches you with a quickly moving chest as you undo the knot and pull the towel open. Not that a lot of new stuff gets exposed because of it, give how his cock’s already been freed before that. Only his neatly trimmed pubes and heavy balls see the new light of the day, hypnotising you.

You may not love Jungkook and, hell, Jungkook may not love you, but the sexual attraction you both feel for each other was sometimes unbearable. Jungkook’s a sexy, attractive man, even if he sometimes scares you. He never hurt you in your years together, so you have no idea why you are scared of him, but you are. You are scared and so goddamn, achingly attracted to his body.

Especially tonight, because Jungkook is disregarding every single pattern you established over the years and that shit turns you on like nothing else.

“There we go, good girl”, Jungkook praises, straightening back up. He cups your cheek and makes you look up at him.

You swallow heavily, hands falling to his thighs just so you can hold something of him.

He smiles.

Jungkook fucking smiles.

For the second time ever since you’ve became his’, Jungkook is showing you his smile.

And it’s flustering you so much that your breath actually hitches in your throat.

“You’re such a pretty girl”, he whispers, tracing your lips.

You exhale shakily, feeling your head pound from those overwhelming feelings in your chest. Jungkook is smiling. He called you pretty. Jungkook called you pretty and is smiling. Holy fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your frown and glassy eyes.

“Nothing”, you barely get the word out.

“Mhm”, he hums, smile slowly fading into a relaxed expression. He lets go of your cheek just so he can dance his hand down to your throat to hold it as gently as possible, “I want you to take off your bra.”

You reach behind yourself without hesitation. Jungkook keeps your eyes on him not through force but through sheer attraction. Your heart’s racing like crazy.

The clasp opens easily. You tug the straps from your shoulders and let the piece of clothing fall onto your lap.

He looks down at your newly exposed chest, slipping his hand from your throat for it.

“Hm”, he hums, nodding his head with a frown on his face. It’s the same frown he gets when he likes food.

Jungkook places his hands over your tits, making you arch your back just to chase him. His palm is slightly callused from fighting, but his touch is tender. He gathers them and squeezes strongly. The sensation crawls down your body and makes your pussy so goddamn wet in your panties.

“Pretty”, he rasps, moving his fingers over your tits until he can pinch your nipples, tugging at them until you whimper. He smirks lazily, massaging them as his eyes flit back to your face just to take in how your lips part in a gasp. “you’re the prettiest, baby.”

“Kook”, you whimper, hands sliding to his inner thighs and eyes burning in new tears. It feels so good to be called baby by him. He only did that during your ice cream date and ever since that day, all you ached for was for another repetition of the nickname.

Jungkook dries your tears with the back of his hand, eyes softening slightly.

“Why do you keep crying, mhm?” he asks.

“I, I don’t know”, you stutter, sniffling like crazy.

"Do you not want me to play with you, mhm?"

"Please don’t stop", you breathe, meaning it honestly.

“Mhm”, he hums and gives your cheek a soft pinch, “stand up for me”, he orders.

You struggle so much. He’s got you so weak that you don’t want to get up. So he helps you, placing his strong hands on your waist to tug you to your feet. He stands up as well once you’re safely on your feet, holding your waist and stepping closer. Like this, he is towering over you, making you lift your head just so you can keep looking into his eyes. He doesn’t feel scary right now. Just strong and like he’d protect you from the world. The feeling is so foreign to you that you want to scream, but you can’t bring yourself to produce any other sound than soft whimpers and shaky intakes of air.

“Now you wanna keep looking at me, don’t you?” he speaks softly, eyes racing between yours.

You nod your head.

“Touch me, baby”, Jungkook whispers.

You place your hands on his chest, eliciting a shaky exhale from him.

He steps closer, hands sliding down to your hips to pull you into him. His head tilts down, nose brushing against yours.

“There we go”, he breathes, “do you like how I feel?”

“Yes”, you sigh, meaning it honestly.

“Baby”, Jungkook whispers, cupping your cheeks to pull you into a deep kiss. His head is tilted to the side, his shoulders are lifted to his ears, his lips move slowly yet desperately against yours.

You stare at him in shock. He’s got his eyes closed. Jungkook’s got his fucking eyes closed as he kisses you. The kiss is real to him. He’s actually feeling it.

“Fuck”, you press out in a shaky sigh, hooking your arms behind his neck to pull him close. Your eyes fall closed and your tongue finally chases his’ in a slow yet needy rhythm.

Jungkook moans, slipping his left hand from your cheek just so he can snake his arm around your waist and press you against his chest. Naked tits against naked pecs. Hot skin against hot skin. Cock against your stomach and hearts beating quickly in both your chests. All of this so far away from the patterns, that they aren’t even on the same map anymore. And you fucking love it, dragging your nails over his undercut until you touch his bun. With sloppy tugs, you open it. His hair falls down in messy waves, getting gathered and twisted by you.

Jungkook keens almost needily, lifting you easily. He isn’t just working out to be ready for whatever fight his life throws at him, but also to lift you whenever you want him to. He never did it before, but all he’s thinking about is lifting you when you’re both naked and lost in a kiss. Your weight makes the muscles in his arms shift and tense, his abs flex right against your pussy. Jungkook loves how you whimper into the kiss and how small you seem to make yourself just to fit into his arms easier.

Your legs snake around his waist, squeezing it tightly. You hate that you’re still wearing your panties. All you want to feel is his skin against your pussy. You’re so fucking into him right now. You need him like crazy.

The truth was that Jungkook is so goddamn vulnerable tonight. He is shaken to the core from everything that happened today, aching for affection he is very well aware you probably have to work very hard for to gather for him. He’s aware that you don’t love him, even if he can’t imagine his life without you. And today he had to. He had to imagine how life would be without you, because he almost lost you to a misunderstanding. He was so angry at you at first and so goddamn hurt. Not you, he thought, not his fucking wife. His heart broke when he heard that you were the one leaking the details, because that meant he had to kill you. Then it ached in confusion when he had to decide whether or not he could still trust you, all while he had to be there for Yoongi. The man, he considers as his own fucking brother. He came home, exhausted from crying over Yoongi way too much and skinning the real traitor, expecting you to have fled, only to see you sleeping in your shared bed and if Jungkook hadn’t been so dirty from murdering Yeonseok, he’d have climbed right into bed with you just to hug you against his chest. Your refusal to flee, even if that meant that he could potentially kill you, was all the proof he needed to know that your loyalty for him never faltered.

And now he’s a mess. Going from anger, heartbreak, confusion, worry and relief left him so goddamn needy for affection. He’d never tell you, because he possibly couldn’t share his feelings with you, but he fucking aches for you like nothing else. Even if it’s just pretend from your side.

He walks to the big windows, pressing you right against them even if that makes you gasp from the cold. The kiss still doesn’t break however, only deepening as your limbs seem to pull him closer and closer. Jungkook presses himself against you, moaning right with you as this makes your pussy press against his cock. He rocks his hips slowly, forcing his cock to glide between his stomach and your clothed pussy.

“Fuck”, he croaks, lips faltering in the kiss.

You chase him, moaning his name.

“I need you”, he gets out, cockhead grinding against your clothed clit and making your fingers scratch down his undercut.

“Need you too”, you answer him.

There is a chaise lounge to your right. Jungkook takes the necessary step and sits down on it, right on its edge. Your body hits his lap, hips chasing his muscular thigh in a needy roll.

He lets the kiss break for the sake of looking at you. His strong hands are on your thighs, your knees are on each side of his hips. His eyes are half-lidded and heavy in arousal.

“Lift your hips”, he orders and you follow.

Jungkook hooks his fingers in your panties and twists the fabric. In one rough tug, he’s got them ripped from your body, leaving behind burning skin and a racing heart.

“Those were your favourites”, you whisper.

“Doesn’t matter”, he dismisses you, throwing the ruined panties on the ground. He grips your hips and pulls them back onto his lap. He rocks them back and forth slowly, making your wet pussy grind right against his thigh.

Your breath trembles, fingers twisting in his long hair. His skin is so soft and hot, his muscles are so defined.

“You’re already dripping”, he says, voice deep in arousal. He wanted to get you wet on his cock and now has to live with the knowledge that you’re already wet for him. He’s so fucking into you, it’s insane.

“Yeah”, you sigh, chasing his thigh desperately.

“Fuck baby”, he presses out, gripping you by the back of your neck, “get on my fucking cock. Now”, he growls, pupils dilated to the point where his eyes appear black.

You follow without hesitation, lifting your soaked pussy from his thigh just to shimmy up his lap and align yourself with his cock. You grind your hole against his tip twice and then Jungkook squeezes your hips in warning, eyes lowering dangerously.

You let yourself drop.

“Oh”, you croak, head falling against his shoulder and body trembling. He’s so fucking big. It’s stretching you out so much.

“There we go. Take that cock”, he rasps, rubbing the small of your back soothingly.

Inch by inch he’s gliding into you, making you feel fuller and fuller. He barely manages to bottom out, eliciting the shakiest moan from you. He growls against your skin, hands slipping to your ass to squeeze it angrily, “that’s it. Your pussy’s so fucking good. Move.”

You circle your hips slowly, whimpering into him and trying to close your legs even if that is impossible in the position and only ends with you squeezing his hips. You feel like bursting.

“Jun-Jungkook”, you get out.

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You’re, you’re so big.”

“I know”, he tilts your hips differently to make the breach a little easier, “do you like it, mhm?”

“Yes”, you mewl, meaning it honestly. He may be a lot and he may make you feel like you’re being ripped in half, but that shit feels so good. It feels amazing on normal days and feels like paradise tonight. You don’t want to stop, you want to keep rutting against him until your pussy is finally stretched enough and stops burning.

“Yeah? You do?” Jungkook forces your head to lift with his hand on your neck. He moves his hips, basking in the widening of your eyes and the clenching of your wet pussy.

“K-Kook”, you squeak, brows furrowing in pleasure.

“There we go, relax. I know I’m big, but you’re my girl, aren’t you?”

You nod your head, gasping for air when his cock fills you up completely again. And he leaves you again, making you chase his girth instantly.

“Yeah you are”, Jungkook slips his thumb to your throat, keeping it resting there without applying pressure, “and my girl’s made for my cock, isn’t she?”

You nod your head, feeling new arousal seep out of you. Jungkook never called you his girl before. It feels so good now that he does.

“Tell me baby”, he orders.

“I’m made for your cock”, you whisper, pussy throbbing around his cock.

“And why is that?” he stresses, feeling you tremble on his lap and loving the shit out of it.

“Because I’m your girl”, you croak, falling around his neck a moment later to kiss him.

Jungkook gasps, hand slipping from your throat to bury itself in your hair at the back of your head. He moans, tensing his thighs desperately when you finally begin to actually move on his cock. Quick movements up and down and skilled circles whenever he’s balls deep inside you. It sounds wet and nasty, filling both of you with the desire to keep going and fucking going.

Tongues tangle, hands grope desperately, hips rut against each other. Breathing is hard when you’re kissing so much and the sex feels so fucking good. Hot and addicting. So without any kind of patterns and rules. So honest and fucking real. There is no order in your movements, just honest desperation to get off on each other as quickly and as intensely as possible. And you don’t want this to stop. Please don’t ever let this stop.

Jungkook doesn’t want it to stop either. Breaking patterns and ignoring rules. The thought normally gives him the fucking ick. But he doesn’t care right now. He doesn’t want patterns or rules, he wants you. All of you. The unfiltered, honest you. The sex tonight is his apology. He hopes you can see that it is. His apology for ever doubting you, his apology for yelling at you in front of the others and his apology for being so goddamn needy for you. He hopes you can feel how sorry he is and how goddamn into it he is.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His shaky breath intermingles with your trembling one, his thumbs brush over your temples, his eyes are closed.

And because his eyes are closed, he doesn’t see that you have yours closed as well. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t feel so fucking sorry for being needy. Because you are fucking needy for him too. Being married is only fun when you’re desired, otherwise it leaves one with a constant ache in one’s chest. And Jungkook’s spilling over in desire tonight, soaking you with it just as much. It feels so good to fuck honestly and like you actually want to fuck.

“I’m so fucking into this”, Jungkook rasps, voice trembling because he bottoms out right this moment, feeling your pussy clench in reaction.

“Me too”, you answer him shakily, lifting yourself just to drop back down on him.

“Fuck”, he croaks and pulls you back into a deep kiss. You squeak as you weren’t ready for it, fingers squeezing his shoulders tightly and hips trembling on his lap. He is kissing you so desperately, moaning so much. It affects you so much. Jungkook isn’t vocal in bed. The penthouse is never truly empty. Guards, one of the others, some of the other goons. The penthouse is never truly empty and Jungkook decided for himself that being quiet was part of sex. Nobody needs to know how into it he is, especially not all the idiots downstairs. So to have him moan and growl and gasp so freely tonight, feels like sex in itself.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, moving just far away enough that he can look at your face. He dances his thumb over your cheek, letting his left hand slide to your hip just so he can squeeze it.

“Is this real for you?” he asks, eyes droopy and barely staying open.

You look at them and how they are filled with so much pleasure, pain and hopefulness. You nod your head honestly.

“Yeah, it’s real”, you whisper.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out, voice trembling and eyes squeezing shut.

He wraps his arm around you, pressing your face into the crook of his neck with his hand on the back of your head. His lips are on your shoulder, his nose is inhaling desperately. His legs broaden their stance so he can finally meet your movements. He thrusts into you deep and strong, forcing your body to tremble involuntarily.

“Kook”, you whimper, tensing up in surprise.

“I’ve got you, I’ve fucking got you”, he whispers against your skin, “fucking hold onto me, baby.”

You drag your nails up his back and neck, burying your fingers in his hair as deeply as possible. Like this your chests are almost melting with each other and his cock is so deep inside you, stomach grinding against your clit.

“That’s it”, he rasps, “that’s fucking it. Your husband’s got it. Gonna fuck you so slow, so fucking deep. Fuck”, he moans, body twitching as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust into you so much rougher afterwards, making your toes curl from how good it feels, “I fucking got it, got you so good. So fucking good.”

He had his eyes on his city once, thinking to himself how pretty those lights look. But not anymore. His face buried in the crook of your shoulder and his eyes are squeezed shut so tightly that his brain is coming up with its own sparkles of light. You feel like heaven around him. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he could swear that you feel so much wetter than you do on other nights.

Jungkook always makes sure that you are wet. Because getting you wet gives him an ego boost. But tonight it feels so real. So honest. It’s covering his cock and is running down his balls. He’s never experienced that sensation before, cradling you in his strong arms because of it.

You are also twitching and writhing like you never did before. They feel so honest and intense, making his own body shudder in reaction.

“I’m really close”, you whimper against his neck.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah”, you say and sob into him loudly, “Jungkook, please don’t stop, I’m so close”, you wail.

“Fuck baby”, Jungkook hugs you tighter, hips faltering just once before they find their rhythm again. Slow and deep, making your wet walls convulse around him rhythmically and for your smaller body to tremble against his bigger, oh so much stronger, frame. “Stop crying”, he soothes you in shaky whispers, “I’ve got you baby, don’t cry.”

“I, I can’t. It, it feels so good”, you stutter and hiccup a loud sob, “it feels so good”, you wail loudly and convulse on top of him, “oh god it’s happening”, you squeak out, hugging him with an almost scared desperation.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. Your husband’s right here, baby. Let go”, he soothes you, throwing you over the edge so intensely that for a second, you feel like passing out.

“Ah-“, you get out and then your voice cuts off and you begin shaking without having any sort of control over it.

Jungkook holds you close, rocking into you carefully because you are so tight that all other movements are impossible. He swears he’s never gotten you that good before.

Jungkook always makes sure that both of you have at least one orgasm during sex, because that is what perfection means to him. Well, at least until now it’s what it meant. Jungkook realises that this right now is so much more perfect than any well-calculated orgasm ever was. This right here feels real and makes his eyes tear up and once your aggressive tensing stops, his hips can’t seem to want to stop. He is chasing your tight pussy, putting rough desperation into his movements. The kind which makes his huge thighs slap against your ass each time he’s deep inside you and the kind which shakes you on top of him.

“Please”, you squeak out, voice so much higher than it normally is, “w-what are you doing?” you wail, “please oh god!”

Jungkook growls, pinning you against him and forcing your fleeing hips to take the fuck that way.

“Take me, I want you to take me”, he spits, feeling his heart pound in his brain.

“It’s too much”, you wail all while pulling him closer, “please, please, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop”, he grunts.

You shake your head vigorously in denial, sobbing into his shoulder and soiling his skin with your tears. Why would you want to say it? Why would you want to stop this when for the first time ever, Jungkook fucks you with honesty? Why would you want to stop the kind of sensations he never gave you before?

“I knew it. I fucking knew it”, Jungkook spits and pulls your hips into him just to land a harsh spank on your ass. You scream his name, scratching his back bloody as you try to grasp him for support.

Jungkook growls, head pounding from the pain.

“Fucking do that again, I liked it”, he orders, connecting his big hand with your ass. The heavy rings he is wearing add another layer of burn to the spank, leaving you to convulse on his cock.

“Please”, you sob, scratching his back open. The black tiger on his right shoulder blade cries red tears from your scratches, his skin burns like crazy.

“You’re so fucking good”, he growls, forcing your back to arch with a push of his arm. Like this your ass is sticking out and your pussy stretches around his cock visibly. Jungkook can see her shift around his cock. All puffy and swollen and oh so wet. The view may be a little distorted from the weak window reflection, but it’s still enough for him.

"You're so sexy, your pussy's so fucking pretty. Fuck baby", he growls and growls again. He spanks you, soaking up the view of your jiggling ass like an addict. The broken sound you make in reaction fuels him, makes his cock twice as hard as it already is.

Jungkook spanks you again, eliciting the most desperate, almost painful, sob ever. The reason for it presents itself to him just seconds later as your pussy convulses in another orgasm.

You claw at him, biting into his shoulder because nothing helps. Your pussy is so sensitive, your ass hurts so much, your body is so weak in his arms. All of this paired with the fact that Jungkook feels the same as you, makes you cum like you never orgasmed before. You convulse and shake and tremble until it gets too much for your pussy and she squirts angrily.

“Fuck yes”, Jungkook growls, reaching between your legs to rub your clit instantly. He pulls you off his cock for the sole purpose of giving your pussy the unplugged chance to squirt everywhere. And you do, oh you do. The entire floor in front of the chaise lounge gets covered in you, his cock is getting soaked in it too now that it’s right under your pussy, aching to be back inside.

"That's it. Squirt for me. Holy fuck, keep squirting baby. Fuck, you’re mine. Fucking mine", Jungkook is chanting whatever comes into his scrambled brain, rubbing your clit like a madman.

You scream and wail, twitching so aggressively that your muscles ache. You don’t even know anymore if he is making you squirt or if you’re just straight up pissing yourself. You know however that you don’t want him to stop, clawing at him with all the desperation in the world.

Jungkook moans loudly, back burning from your nails and head pounding like crazy. He’s got you fucking squirting. Holy fuck, it’s so hot. Jungkook presses his fingers tighter to your clit, rubbing her quickly.

"O-oh" you squeak, fleeing him with an arch of your back.

Jungkook however chases you, pinning you back against him, "don’t fight it. Let it happen", he growls, pinching your clit just to rub her between his fingers.

“Stop please”, you beg now that overstimulation is eating you alive, “holy fuck oh god”, you croak, writhing atop of him as his fingers press against your clit repeatedly.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, pinning your hips back against him, "I know you’re made for this. You're my fucking girl, you’re made for this", he chants and bucks his hips up, forcing his huge cock to slip back into you.

You squeak and grow completely still on top of him. The stretch goes oh so deep and hard. Holy fuck, your pussy feels like it's going to burst.

"Please", you beg.

Jungkook knows it’s because you are so goddamn tight and his cock is huge. He runs his hands down to your ass, soothing the burning skin with slow circles.

“Take a breath for me”, he orders, making it easier for you by grabbing your ass and parting it, which results in your pussy getting all open for him as well.

You whimper into his neck, barely taking breaths.

“There we go. I don’t wanna hurt you, baby”, Jungkook soothes you.

“You’re so big”, you mewl.

“I know. I know I am, but you can take me. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” you keen, relaxing around him in a desperate shudder.

“Yeah you are. You’re my good girl and you’re gonna take my big cock like you’re made for it, aren’t you?”

“F-for how long?” you stutter, twisting his hair as your body once again tenses without you having any kind of control over it. You are so tight and Jungkook’s so big. It burns so addictively, almost feeling too much and yet not enough. You don’t know whether to flee or to chase him. But you do know that for however long you have to take him still, the result will be the same. You are changed. If Jungkook thinks he can go back to his calculated patterns after tonight, he is mistaken. You never ever want to have other sex with him again. Just raw, honest, rough fucking.

“Not for long anymore. I’m really fucking close”, he answers you, picking up in his movements.

He is giving you long, drawn-out strokes. The kind which makes his entire cock leave your pussy before stuffing her again within one rough second. And which make his balls slap against your ass from the sheer force. Your skin is so sensitive from the spanking that getting his heavy balls against your ass feels like addicting paradise.

“Gonna cum so good baby. Gonna cum so fucking good”, Jungkook growls against you.

“Oh god”, you whimper, hugging him tightly, “are you gonna cum inside me?”

“Yes baby. Gonna stuff you.”

“Kook”, you sob, convulsing around him in desperation, “please stuff me, please.”

“I will, gonna fill you up till you’re dripping. Hear me? Want you dripping and leaking ‘cause of me.”

His hips falter, he squeezes your hips.

“Fuck”, he spits, “it’s…difficult…”

You understand him. When he made you cum like crazy, you couldn’t move either. It must be so difficult for him to keep moving his hips. You lift your head just so you can see how he reacts when you take over for him.

You may be entirely spend and tired, but making him cum is filling you with a spurt of energy. You slam your hips down on him, lifting them quickly afterwards just to begin your ruthless bouncing up and down his huge cock.

Jungkook widens his eyes, gasping for air. He scrunches his entire face up in pleasure, head rolling back and mouth falling open.

He moans loudly, voice sounding way more high-pitched than you ever heard him sound.

His very obvious enjoyment, motivates you to speed up. You add little movements back and forth to your bounces, biting down on your tongue solely because your own thighs want to give up on you. His cock feels so good inside you.

“Baby”, Jungkook keens, falling back on the chaise lounge. His head tangles over the edge just enough that his hair is hanging over the edge in messy strands. He throws his own arm over his eyes, moaning so loudly that you can hear it echo in the penthouse.

“Jungkook”, you mewl, slamming your hands on his chest for support. Like this you can arch your back and therefore force his cock to rub right against your walls.

Jungkook lets out a sob, almost making you falter in your movements. Your widened eyes are glued to his face in shock, your pussy is clenching like crazy in arousal. Jungkook drags both his hands over his face and buries them in his own hair. Like this his arms are tensing, sweat is running down his skin and soaking his hair.

“I’m cumming”, he croaks out and sobs.

“Do it, fill me up. Mark me as yours”, you growl, slamming down on him.

“Aaah!” Jungkook screams and arches his back. He gets stuck in that position as he finally breaks, chasing you with squirms while producing the most high-pitched and desperate squeaks ever.

“That’s it. Fuck. I’m yours Kook, fucking yours.”

“Oh god”, Jungkook arches his back even more, cock releasing another wave of cum inside you, “don’t stop please don’t stop, it feels good”, he begs, thighs trembling like crazy and stomach tensing so much that he fears he’ll develop a new set of never-seen-before-abs.

You fuck him and fuck him and fuck him and Jungkook keeps on shaking in his high as his cock is pumping you full of endless cum.

“Shit”, you croak, eyes rolling back and body trembling out of control now that you realised what was actually happening, “baby”, you croak, crumbling around him a third and last time, prolonging his orgasm to fiery levels of intensity.

“I can’t stop! It, it doesn’t stop”, he wails, feeling it run out of you by now. Did he seriously never cum before? What the hell is happening to him? What are you doing to him? Jungkook is crying and shaking and cumming and he has no control over it.

“Me neither”, you sob, collapsing with him as your body gives up on you, "fuck baby, oh baby."

"I fucking love this, holy shit", Jungkook growls, meeting your sloopy movements with equally as sloppy movements.

Now you are rutting against each other like tired, yet needy animals. Arms holding each other close and heads pounding like crazy. The sloppy grinding is enough to force your endless highs to die down gradually. Slowly, but at least they are dying down. Truly, you don’t think you could have stopped on your own if your bodies didn’t actually give up on you.

The room is silent, safe for your heavy breathing and the occasional sound when a droplet of your juices is dripping onto the ground. His cock is still inside you. Hard as a rock and getting squeezed by your tight walls. In theory none of those nice juices should escape you, but with the amount of cum he pumped into you, losing a few droplets is unavoidable.

Your head is resting on his chest right where his collarbone blends into his shoulder. You can hear the heavy pounding of his heart even from here. It mixes with the sound of your own rushing blood.

You don’t quite know if you actually fell asleep or not. The minutes after tonight’s fuck are a blur in your mind. Maybe you fell asleep, it would explain why you started drooling on Jungkook.

You slurp quietly, forcing your heavy eyes to open.

Jungkook’s chest heaves up and down slowly, his heartbeat calmed down. You are shivering like crazy, feeling so goddamn cold all of a sudden. Even his cock feels different, sitting inside you all limp and soft.

Okay you definitely fell asleep.

Groaning softly you lift yourself to your elbows.

Jungkook is very obviously sleeping. Mouth open widely and eyes closed. He looks so funny like that, making you giggle. Something you never did before, but tonight changed you. You can’t deny it. You feel fuzzy in his presence. Fuzzy and warm and maybe a little giddy.

You lift yourself even more, shimmying your hips to make his cock slip out.

Jungkook jerks awake, gripping your hips strongly to prevent it from happening.

“Don’t”, he croaks, voice heavy in sleep.

“Oh. I-“, you freeze up in the position, “I didn’t think you’d wake up.”

“I didn’t sleep”, Jungkook says, with his voice contorted in exhaustion now that he is forcing himself to sit up.

You snort, “yeah sure.”

“Does it matter?”

You shake your head, eyes racing between his’. Jungkook’s eyes do the same, hands running up and down your ass. He opens his mouth to talk only to chicken out and close it again.

You place your hands on the sides of his neck.

Jungkook exhales shakily because of it. He inhales and opens his mouth again.

“What”, he begins, having to clear his terribly dry throat, “what did this mean to you?”

You swallow down the heavy lump in your throat. Jungkook gulps as well, eyes widening in both nervousness and hopefulness.

“What did it mean to you?” you ask him, wanting to stall time.

“Don’t avoid my question”, he says in a shaky voice.

You lower your eyes and take a deep breath. When you lift your gaze seconds later, Jungkook’s eyes have filled with tears of unbearable nervousness.

“It meant everything…baby”, you say, gnawing on your lower lip in nervousness.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and pulls you close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck just so you can’t see his stupid tears roll down his cheeks. You aren’t calling him husband anymore.

“I feel the same”, he presses out, cradling you oh so strongly.

“Good”, you whisper, holding him against you.

“It’s you and I, yeah?”

“Yeah, you and I”, you promise him.

“Fuck, baby”, he exhales, standing up with you even if his legs are wobbly.

You hug him tightly, sighing his name. Maybe being his wife isn’t that bad. Maybe you actually do love him and maybe he actually loves you too. Maybe it is way too soon to make such decisions and maybe the magic will stop come tomorrow. But at least tonight you are sure that you love him and Jungkook knows that he loves you too.

He places you atop your bed, climbing on top of you.

“Wait, we’re dirty”, you gasp, “shouldn’t we shower first?”

Jungkook cups your face, “why? Just to get dirty again?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what that means”, Jungkook breathes and finally pulls you into a kiss.

5K notes · View notes

causenessus · 3 months

Text

Nightmares. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied at least for chuuya)

song recc: roslyn by bon iver

word count: 1064 words

summary: "how do they take care of you when you have a nightmare?"

sorry if they all seem the same D: i tried to make them all unique and i can see the difference between each character in how they would treat u but i know it's small i'm sorry they're all just such green flags and would be the sweetest <3

dazai

has had so many nightmares himself he knows just how to take care of you

having someone with him at night helped reduce the stress and the number of ones he has <3

you’ll wake up from a nightmare, crying out as you shoot up and he’s there for you from the very start, sitting up as well and shushing you, pulling you to his chest

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating as he drew your head near to his chest. “deep breaths, bella,” he encouraged softly, holding your face so that you were looking directly into his eyes while he gave you a gentle smile. he ran his hands through your hair, smoothing it out until your breathing calmed down

is super patient with you throughout the whole process, will not act sleepy in the slightest so that you don’t feel bad for waking him up or anything else

“ ‘m sorry I woke you,” your voice shook as you tried to take a deep breath, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

he took your hands off your face, using his own to brush away your tears with all the care in the world. “don’t be sorry, I was half awake anyway. take your time, love.”

he’ll offer to listen if you want to talk about it, but he understands if you’re not ready yet

tries to coax you back to sleep soon after because he wants you to rest

but he knows from experience how hard it can be when your mind is racing

the reason it’s helped him so much to sleep with someone though is bc it can take your mind off the dream <3

he’ll position you against his chest and between his legs while he rests against the headboard of the bed. he’ll intertwine his arms with yours, rubbing circles on your wrists while he hums softly to distract you

if you’re feeling sensitive to noise, he’ll place his hands over your ears instead, using his thumbs to rub the sides of your head

he’s there for whatever you need him to do. during your first nightmare with him, he’ll still be figuring out how you react to them. after that, he'll remember exactly what you need and want from him. he wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what <3

chuuya

wakes up first while you’re still tossing and turning in your dream

he’ll sit up and lean over, waking you as gently as he can. he’ll cup your face as you wake up, brushing anyway any tears with warm hands

“hey, hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. it’s just a bad dream. I’m right here. you’re safe,” he whispered softly as you woke up shaking, your breathing erratic

he kisses away the rest of your tears, touching you so gently and with so much love

asks if you want to talk about it and if you need anything else which he’ll be happy to get for you

afterward, he’ll pull you close to his chest, one hand on your head and the other around your waist, making you feel secure and protected

I think he’d be the type who would keep talking the whole time, distracting you from your thoughts. he’ll talk you through everything he’s doing, he’ll continue to comfort you, and will talk about any other random thing once you both have laid back down

probably tries to make some jokes a little bit before you head back to sleep as well to make you feel better

“sometimes, that stupid dazai shows up in my dreams and I just know it’s not a coincidence. there’s no way that scheming blockhead doesn’t have some mysterious way of communicating and entering people’s dreams. and he does it just to piss me off. ugh, just thinking about it makes me upset,” he ran a hand through his hair, smiling when you let out a small laugh, wiping away the last of your tears with the back of your hand.

he took your hand in his own and kissed it softly, “there’s my pretty girl. see? you’re safe, nothing bad is gonna happen.”

tecchou

does not wake up

you wake up from your nightmare, eyes bleary and heart racing. the only thing you want is to be in his arms so you wake him

once he sees your tears though he’s up immediately, hands on your face as he wipes them away, “oh angel, what’s wrong?”

you place your hand over his own, “just a nightmare…I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do.”

“nothing to be sorry about,” he says softly, a smile on his face as if you had said something funny, “that’s what I’m here for. I’m glad you woke me up.”

he suggests making a warm drink to calm you down if you’re up for it

in his experiences, he’s found it best to get up and change his surroundings in order to get his mind off a bad dream

if you say yes, he’ll make you something to drink before sitting next to you in the kitchen. he’ll be with you the whole time, telling you that he’s willing to listen if you want to talk about it or anything else if you don’t want to think about it

will have a hand on your thigh or back, rubbing it slowly to comfort you

when you both head back to bed, he’ll hold you close to him, one hand intertwined with yours to let you know he’s there while the other runs through your hair <3

if you don’t want to get up from the bed, that’s okay too, he’ll ask you what you want him to do and makes sure your every need is taken care of <3

kisses your forehead as you both lay back down, then draws patterns across your skin with one hand. the other one flat against your lower back to keep you pressed against him

if you’re still a little scared, he’ll continue to comfort you and reassure you that it’s okay. he’ll wipe away any more tears and stay awake the whole time. he tries to make sure he hears your breathing slow and that you’ve fallen back asleep before he closes his own eyes again to make sure that you get the rest you deserve <3

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya #tecchou x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader #suehiro tecchou #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons

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akoyaxs · 6 months

Text

˚༄ Tìyora Pt 1

༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies to Lovers ༊ 4.4k words Warnings: competitive violence, bet, kuru pulling, p in v, reader hates Aonung THIS WILL BE A SERIES!!!! *Note that reader is practically Neytiri's twin, like mother like daughter. I chose this photo bc when writing I like picturing an OC or different face in my mind, and this one looks different enough from Neytiri's other scenes, but similar enough that reader has all the good Sully genes*

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It’s not like you’d never felt annoyance before. You had, of course. You couldn’t have survived your entire life with Lo’ak as your brother without having felt annoyed, trying to clean up his messed. You wouldn’t have survived your entire life without being annoyed by being berated by Neteyam for cleaning up your messes.

But now, you’re pissed the fuck off. It’s not just that you’d been held hostage by a stupid group of avatars, or that now you’d needed to leave your clan and fly a million miles to seek uturu in the fucking ocean, but it was the people.

Tsireya was a sweetie, Tonowari admired your bravery, and Ronal found your determination endearing (though she kept it to herself). But Aonung was a whole other story.

You could count on your five-fingered hand how many times you’d gone a minute in his presence without wanting to punch his smug stupid face. You could count with no fingers. Because you hadn’t gone a minute without wanting to punch him.

And now here you are, face to face with the fucking skxawng once again. There’d been several interactions like this. When Aonung and his ugly ass skxawng friends were teasing Kiri, you had been the first to throw fists, and the last to be dragged off. When Lo’ak had been left stranded by said skxawng and accomplices, you had come so close to murdering the next Olo’eyktan, several warriors had to drag you off.

You had grown quite the reputation in the week you’d lived in the reef. Furious, violent, unapproachable, dangerous, attentive. And of course, an excellent fighter. The thing was, the Metkayina had yet to see you fight, given that the instances you smacked the shit out of their precious little prince had been out of the public eye.

Which is probably why they’re now watching with bated breath and eyes wide as the moon as you circle the stupid skxawng around the Metkayina training grounds. It was Tonowari’s idea for you to start training with the warriors of your new clan. As he delicately put, it was a good way for you to let everything out without inflicting any damage for non-training reasons.

Across from you, Aonung shifts slightly, tilting his head cockily and gripping the spear in his hand more tightly. He looks determined; it wouldn’t be a great look if he lost to you in front of the whole clan, after being beat up by you twice.

You’re determined too, you guess. Not to prove yourself, no, it doesn’t make any difference to you what all these Metkayina think of you, not when you could fight them even easier than Aonung. But you want, just once more, to beat him.

You’re not completely sure why but beating him gives you this crazy thrill of pleasure. It probably has something to do with his annoyance and squirminess and coldness and sullenness. He’s embarrassed when you beat him, and it’s perfectly clear to you that Aonung isn’t someone who gets embarrassed easily.

You glance across at the watching Metkayina quickly. Tonowari and Ronal are watching expectantly, little smiles on their faces. Tsireya and Rotxo look slightly worried (bless their sweet little souls), but your siblings are watching with broad, confident grins on their faces. Lo’ak looks especially ready to watch you beat up Aonung again.

He makes the first move, the moment you glance at the onlookers. It was an anticipatable offence, and you step quickly aside, ducking under his swing. You move around behind him and kick his leg, bending it and sending him to his knees.

“You look so pretty on your knees,” you grin teasingly. “You should stay down.”

Aonung’s eyes narrow somewhat, obviously not taking kindly to your little taunts. It’s evident to everyone watching that this is just a little game for you, and you’re taking the opportunity to have some fun with their prince. Aonung seems more determined, and he growls and jolts forward.

He stabs his spear towards you, which you parry, slashing and spiralling, ducking and stabbing. Eventually, he tosses you to the side and your spear goes skittering away. You feel the audience sit up slightly, not expecting this to happen.

Aonung approaches slowly, a cocky little smile on his fishlips. You roll your eyes at his overconfidence, before ducking under the next stab so you’re pressed between his body and his spear, before ripping it from his grip and tossing it out of the circle.

He hisses with annoyance and makes to shove you away, but you’re already ducking under his legs and flipping him over your back. Groans come from the crowd as Aonung slams into the floor, but you hear a delighted whoop from Lo’ak, followed by Kiri stifling a laugh and Neteyam shushing them both.

Aonung clambers to his feet and you crouch a little lower. His eyes are blazing now, looking absolutely furious. A shiver of anticipation runs through you as he tilts his head, eyes narrowing to icy slits. Finally.

“Going to actually fight now?” you ask, smiling tantalisingly, tauntingly. You weren’t really expecting an actual fight, any real competition, but this is even better than the fun little tussle you’d anticipated. With the way he’s looking at you, you just know he’s ready. He’s furious and humiliated and he’s dangerous.

You trail the circle, eyes fixed on one another. You wait, unhurried and unworried, so he gives in and makes the first move again. This time he goes for your legs, and you leap over him, pushing his shoulders down so he stumbles and you roll to the ground and spring up again.

You exchange punches and kicks, and he doesn't hold back. He tackles you to the ground and jabs his elbow at your gut. He’s strong, very strong, and there’s a moment where you realise you forgot to factor in just how stupidly, ridiculously tall and muscular the infuriating skxawng is. You jab him back with your elbow, and he grunts before pinning you down with one arm, his other hand closing around your throat.

The warriors, your friends and your family are watching with bated breath as you struggle under him for a moment, eyes flicking in wide fascination between your twisting form trapped underneath his. You can feel the pressure of their gazes, and the thought that they think he might actually win is more than you can bear.

“Kinky,” you manage to whisper, throat starting to ache under his grip. His face twists for a moment, which you don’t pause to read before you move your knee up to smack him in the groin. You roll over him, legs wrapping around his neck and squeezing his head between his thighs.

“You’re one to talk,” he grunts, trying to shove your legs apart. You tighten your legs together around him, and he gasps.

“Go on,” you breathe, looking down at Aonung, between your legs, face filled with frustration, hands scrabbling at your thighs. He doesn’t say anything. Everyone’s watching expectantly, and you reach down to tug his head back further by his kuru, neck trapped between your legs.

The moment your fingers close around his kuru, he hisses. You glare at each other for a moment, his eyes blazing with frustration, your own eyes a clear message: give up.

“Fine,” he hisses, trying to twist away from you.

“Louder,” you snap, tugging his kuru harder, and he growls.

“I give up!” he explodes.

For a moment, you just stay like that, the crowd watching silently as you stare down at his irate face. And then, with movements that even to yourself feel like they’re in slow motion, you let go of his kuru and open your legs, Aonung toppling onto the floor between them.

Then Ronal is standing up, Tonowari is smiling, and Lo’ak is cheering. The crowd follow, smiling and applauding and grinning at one another. Amidst it all, Aonung has clambered to his feet, ears pinned back against his face and face bitter.

“I hope this has settled things between the two of you,” Tonowari says, as everyone starts to finally fuck off out of the training grounds and back to the village, chattering excitedly and shooting glances back towards you all.

He looks between the pair of you expectantly. You’re both slightly flushed from the fight. Aonung still looks ashamed and frustrated, tail flicking agitatedly behind him, absentmindedly and violently drawing in the sand with his toes. You just avoid eye contact, and Tonowari sighs.

He signs to his son, who scowls and signs back. They continue in this way for a minute, exchanging what is clearly a heated debate in the unspoken language you have yet to learn properly, while you stand on the side and wonder absentmindedly if you’ve been dismissed. Just as you’re about to try and slip away, Tonowari clears his throat and you freeze.

“The two of you will train together,” he says in a voice that makes it clear it isn’t up for debate. Aonung tries anyway, clearly protesting in their signed language, and you wait with a frown on your face. “It is decided. I’ll leave you too to sort out your… differences.”

Aonung glares after his father, and you fold your arms. Finally, he turns towards you, eyes blazing with irritation. You glare at each other in silence for a few moments.

“What’s your problem with me?” Aonung says bluntly, finally breaking the tense quiet.

“What’s my problem?” you hiss, brows raising in disbelief, eyes narrowing conversely.

“Yes,” he scoffs. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it? Are you deaf, as well as a freak-”

“Are you serious right now,” you cut him off, swallowing hotly before your fist accidentally slips and he ends up with a broken nose. “Are you really doing this again, after I just rocked your skxawng ass in front of your whole clan?”

Aonung scoffs again, eyes narrowing as well, and you take a step in, not in the least intimidated he’s a good foot taller. Or by the way he straightens to glare back from his full height, waiting impatiently for you to speak your mind. You’re quite impressed with yourself that you’re only now about to insult him; it’s been a good minute long since you last did.

“Fine,” you concede. “You’re entitled. You’re rude. You don’t give a single fuck for anybody but yourself. You are the most close-minded person I ever met, and I’ve been held at gunpoint by artificially revived humans. You are so egotistical you clearly think the world revolves around you. You except us to sit back while you taunt and ridicule us, you picked on my siblings for the hell of it then had the nerve to act surprised when I fought you over it. You think you deserve everything you deserve everything because you have it, but I promise you this; you are so much less important than you believe.”

Aonung blinks slightly. You don’t step back, and when he exhales shakily and his rage flares up again, you stand your fucking ground as he steps in as well.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he growls, glaring down at you.

“And what are you, then?” you snap. “Entitled prince of the clan. Who gets whatever he likes. Who can’t handle me calling him out on what he actually is.”

Aonung hisses, and you suddenly find yourself inches away from him. It takes you a moment to realise he’s dragged you there by your kuru, neck tilted dangerously back so you can still make eye contact with him when this close given your stupid fucking height difference.

He’s breathing heavily, eyes blazing. You’re breathing heavily too, eyes wide as you stare back at him. It’s less of a glare now, you’re just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When he realises you aren’t fighting back for once, not pulling away from him, his pupils widen to large black slits, eyes still narrowed and blazing.

And you stay like that. Neither of you move. Neither of you dare too. Neither of you can guess what the other will do. You half expect him to toss you away, or maybe cuss you out. He’s one hundred percent sure you’re seconds away from cursing him out and certain violence.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. It doesn’t come out as you meant it, nowhere near as warning, as fierce, as dangerous. Because this is. It is dangerous.

Dangerous to be this close. Dangerous for you to be thinking what you’re suddenly thinking. Dangerous of him to be holding you this close.

With a small shiver, you realise he’s still holding your kuru in his fisted hand, your body so close to his that when you breathe, your chests nearly brush. You try not to swallow; there’s no way you’re going to let him see how dry your throat suddenly is.

His eyes are roving over your face, which he still holds facing up towards him with his grip on your kuru, tilted so far to keep him in your sight that your throat is tight, and your heart is pounding slightly. Because of the pressure on your throat, because you can’t breathe. Obviously.

Your question hangs in the air. Silent. Aonung doesn’t answer. You can feel his breath fanning across your neck. It’s hot and heavy and you try your best not to make another sound, to make sure he can’t feel how hot and heavy your breath is suddenly feeling.

It never struck you how sensitive a kuru is, but when he pulls you closer by another inch, you feel your whole body tense. Your pupils blow wide and to your horror, you moan. It’s soft, breathy, and you pray to Eywa it was soundless, that it was just some horrific, mortifying figment of your imagination summoned by the oddness of your situation. Even more shamefully, there’s an undeniable twist in your heart, and a certain wetness in your loincloth at the tug of your sensitive kuru.

But then Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply. With his eyes closed, you quickly let your eyes dart over him. You’ve never seen him this tense, not when fighting him, not when shouting at him, not even when you had to wait for Lo’ak to be found when left at Three Brothers Rock.

Every muscle in his neck is tensed, jaw clenching tightly, throat bobbing and chest moving with each strained breath. With another surge of your heart, your eyes drop to the rippling muscles of his arms and shoulder. His veins are evident in those smooth teal arms as he grips your kuru. Then he’s looking at you, eyes opening and instantly falling into your own. They’re dark, not just by his pupils blown wide as the fucking moon, but something deeper, darker, hungrier that has your heart clenching.

You breathe like that for a moment, eyes wide and gazing at each other, hearts hammering and breath heavy, before he wrenches his gaze from yours and quickly lets go of your kuru. And then, your heart stops hammering and your annoyance is rushing back and you forget that strange, infuriating rush from before.

“What was that?” you growl, pulling your kuru back and scowling at him.

Aonung just swallows, still avoiding your gaze and shifting slightly, and you look down. Immediately, your gaze darts up to his slightly flushed face, which looks mortified and frustrated now.

“You fucking hypocrite,” you breathe, eyes wide. “Taunting us, teasing us, when you are hard just by hearing me moan.” Aonung flushes deeper, and you scoff.

“Do you get like this when Kiri shouts at you?” you ask derisively. “Or even when Neteyam gets mad? Or is it just me that has this effect on you?”

Aonung’s glower is answer enough, and your eyes widen further, mouth parting in shock.

“Shut it,” he hisses, shifting again in an attempt to hide himself, and you laugh.

“Are you serious?” you deride. “What happened to me being a repulsive hideous freak? Or do you secretly like that- getting shouted at by a foreigner? Do you like it when I’m mean to you, Aonung?”

“I said shut it freak,” Aonung growls, though you don’t at all miss the way the tent in his tewng seems to grow as you trail closer.

“What do you want then?” you ask, raising your brows. “Surely it’s not above the prince to ask for help, if he really isn’t an entitled brat.”

“As if you would be any use,” Aonung snarls. “As if a freak like you could make me cum.”

“Oh?” you say with narrowed eyes, stepping closer. Aonung blinks, stepping back. He’s reluctant to stay so close to you, you realise. Which is fair, given that last time you were inches apart was what made him hard in the first place. “Do you want me to moan again for you, that seems to do the job well enough.”

You shoot a pointed look at his still growing bulge, and he pauses.

“I have my doubts though,” you say tiredly, trying to hide your amusement. “I don’t think a fishlipped brat like you would be able to make me moan anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?” Aonung says.

“Was it?” you raise your brows. “I feel like I’ve already put in some effort, at least I’ve done something for you.”

“One final challenge,” Aonung says through gritted teeth. “Settle this once for all.”

You consider it. You, of course, had already proved yourself over and over again, proved yourself superior to this skxawng. But on the other hand, your tewng was still wet, and you have this massive, horny ass man in front of you, clearly desperate for anything, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Alright then,” you concede. “Because I’m not losing. I’m going to prove myself, you’re going to be eating your words, and then all will be good.”

“I do not understand eating your words,” Aonung says bluntly. “Is it some demon-”

His words are choked off when you reach out and press your palm into his bulge. A minute later, tewngs are disgarded, you find yourself pressed against the sand and he’s all over your body.

“You don’t need to,” you say quickly, when his fingers swipe along your slit. “I’m wet enough.” Aonung looks like he’s about to make some snarky comment, and you growl. “You’re going slower than my grandmother. I hope you’re-”

Suddenly you're lifted up and you're on your knees right there on the sand. You can feel Aonung's breath hot and heavy as he nips at your neck, folded over your much smaller, arched body and sliding your tewngs away with quick hands.

You feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the sand. You sink your teeth into your lip, determined not to make any noise. This is different to before, bent completely over with your face pillowed against the ground.

“Alright princess,” he says snarkily, pausing for a moment, buried deep inside you. His voice sounds shaky.

“Thought you’d be bigger,” you lie, scrunching your face up as you try to adjust to his size. Aonung just lets out a deep, amused laugh, before pulling out to the tip and pressing down on your back to arch you further down.

When he starts to move, it completely knocks your breath out, so you're left gasping for air you never manage to catch as he thrusts again. His grip on your waist is bordering on strangling, yet you find yourself unconsciously following him, pulling yourself back to meet each one of your thrusts with a choked moan.

His sudden roughness and hunger and desire is startling. So this is what it's like when he's unrestrained, hot and animalistic, rutting fast and hard, pushing you into a further arch while his sharp teeth nip at the back of your neck and shoulders.

Eywa, if he’d worked this hard, this determinedly, this fiercely whenever you fought, maybe you’d actually have respect for him.

It's starting to get too much, the coil in your stomach growing too close too soon, and your moans are starting to border on lewd whines and whimpers as you sink your teeth into the flesh of your arms. You're clutching the ground for dear damn life, arms attempting to pillow your face as your whole body rocks forward with each rough, almost ruthless thrust.

Pearls of blood are collecting from where your fangs are sunk into your smooth skin, but you ignore it, much rathering the pain than Aonung having the satisfaction of knowing how long you’d be without it. Aonung too, is tense behind you. You can sense the effort he goes to keeping quiet.

It’s a fucking game, pretending neither is impressed by the other, when he’s punching every breath out of you with deep thrusts, and each clench of your walls around him is about to drive him insane. You’re both close, and you both know it, given the way he’s twitching inside you, and you’re fluttering around him.

“Go on then,” you groan through gritted teeth. “I promise, I’ll be gracious about my win.”

“You wish,” he huffs, but you can feel him twitch inside of you. Each rock of his hips knocks every breath, every thought out of you until your heart is pounding in rhythm with each increasingly rough, deep, animalistic thrust of his cock rutting between your legs.

You just bury your face deeper into your arms, hoping that they'll be enough to hide the moans knocked out of you with each of his deep thrusts. He has you pinned firmly beneath him, yet it feels snug and comforting despite the pain of his grip. It feels like he's fucking everything into you, even his scent, so each thrust is enveloping you in his warm, tropical smell.

And with a surge of panic, you feel that familiar heat to growing again, and by the way Aonung is hissing and groaning and burying his face in your neck, you can tell he’s close too. With a final chance to finish this, you’re suddenly rolling over and pushing him back against the sand.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see from Aonung; you had no idea what he looked like when you were ass up with your face half buried in the sand. But you certainly weren’t expecting those blue eyes dark and wide and hungry, his lips to be parted in a silent gasp.

His hands fall straight to your hips, slowly rocking you on him. You stare the whole time. With narrowed eyes and shallowed breaths, it’s all a challenge. And you’re determined to win.

“Go on,” you hiss, attempting to grin down at Aonung despite your flushed face and hair spilling anywhere. He looks like he’s about to protest, and you know you have one move left to pull. You finally unsink your teeth from your lips and let it all out. The moment your moan rents the air, Aonung tenses below you. And when your head tips back and your back arches, you both know he’s a goner.

It never occurred to you, just how gentle he’d been, until he’s completely let go, allowed the crushing desire to overcome him. He's half thrusting up into you, half picking up and slamming down your body onto him. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think you could hear him moaning your name.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his final restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. And finally, you can’t hold it any longer, flopping forward against his chest and doing your best to ride out your high.

“Holy shit,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to breathe properly. Aonung doesn’t reply, and when you look up, you find him inches away, staring blankly at you. You quickly scramble off him, snatching up your tewng and covering yourself up. You try your best to ignore the come dripping between your legs, or the flush on your face. “I won.”

Aonung’s face stills, back to his regular, blank stare, though you weren’t sure what you were even reading in it before.

“Yeah whatever,” he grumbles. “Still a freak.”

“A freak who had you fucking moaning my name,” you mutter under your breath, making sure you’re all covered up again. “And you are still an entitled, bratty, fishlipped sore loser.”

“Fuck off,” he grunts, smacking you hard with his tail, and you straighten up, glaring at him. He just glares straight back, both of your chests heaving as you still fight for breath, eyes narrowed and tails flicking agitatedly.

Finally, you just huff and turn, storming back along the beach away from the training grounds and Aonung, and back to the village and the marui you share with your family. You ignore their delight at your win in the fight; they have no idea what happened after, and you fully intend to keep it that way.

For some reason, you don’t feel as satisfied by your other win as you thought. It had been gratifying to watch as Aonung just completely lost control, and maybe you even enjoyed watching him lose his temper and toss and pull you around like you weighed nothing. You scowl and slump onto your sleeping mat.

Stupid skxawng, not admitting you won, when you both knew he was practically whimpering your name. The trouble was how difficult it had been for you not to do the same, moan out his name. And then there was the other trouble. That it had been nothing like you’d ever experienced, being stretched far further than ever before, him reaching places you didn’t even think were possible.

It was harder than anything. Harder than your iknimaya, harder than escaping Quaritch even. It was almost physically impossible, not to just collapse against him, not to moan your pleasure for Eywa to hear. And certainly not for Aonung to hear. If he knew how shaky you feel, how sore your legs are and how faint your head is, the stupid skxawng would never let you hear the end of it.

So you just slump back against your sleeping mat, trying not to think about how you have to train with him the next morning.

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༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃

#aonung #aonung fanfiction #aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #avatar smut #aonung fic #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #avatar the way of water #avatar #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #slow burn

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boredmadamoiselle · 11 months

Text

You don't even have to ask

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: After the qualifying at the Grand Prix of Monaco, you look for Charles to give him comfort... and in search of his forgiveness.

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration.

The sun had already set and the moon had taken its place lighting up the dark sky above you.

As you approached the port, you could hear the music from downtown getting more and more distant. Absolute silence reigned in the port, it was just you, the sea and the many boats docked. Everyone, except one person, was celebrating. And you knew, or at least you hoped, you’d find him on his yacht. Away from everyone and everything, probably lost in his thoughts and thinking back to what had happened just a few hours ago.

Once again, in fact, Ferrari and Charles’ team had screwed his race, jeopardizing his victory and proving to be incompetent. Although they were the ones who made the mistake, Charles would pay once again the consequences, just when for the first time he had had the chance to get on the podium in Monaco. That was the thing that pissed you off more.

Even though you were on a break, you couldn’t help it but support him. Because in the end and despite everything that had happened between you in the last months, you loved him. You still wanted him to win and be happy. But instead, he was struggling once again.

Charles ran to win every race but Monaco was different, it was special. It was his home race, the place where he had grown up and lived.

He loved Monaco, its people and he wanted them to love him equally, to make them proud. That was the reason why he wanted to win… for them. The thing was that they already loved him… or at least you did. You loved him more than everything else and seeing him sad broke your heart. After you had tried to call him and had received no answer, you had decided to go find him and see for yourself how he was. You wanted to comfort him, but you were also dying to see him and have him a few meters from you after weeks away, to hold him in your arms. You would have told him that everything would be fine. Even among you.

The break had been your idea and Charles, even though he didn’t like the idea, had agreed. He loved you and he knew that being in a relationship with him, always under the spotlight wasn’t easy, that sometimes it could be a little suffocating. So, he had let you go with the hope that you would return to him sooner or later. You were now as you had thought enough. Being with him wasn’t easy for sure but being without him was even more difficult. Those weeks apart from him had strengthened your feelings for Charles.

You needed him just like he needed you. Those weeks, those days must not have been easy for Charles and your distance must have made everything worse. Part of you felt guilty for not being there for him.

His yacht was for both of you your second home, your refuge. Whenever he could, Charles would come and take the yacht out to sea. As he wanted to stay alone with his thoughts during those moments, he almost never allowed anyone to accompany him, except you. You were always welcome. Would you have been even now? Did he still love you? These questions had been nagging you all along the way.

You got on the yacht and it didn't take you long before you saw him. He was standing with his back to you and looking up at the sky. You were approaching him when the sound of his voice instantly paralyzed you.

“I said I wanted to be alone.”

You could hear the sadness dripping and it broke your heart. You wanted to run to him but you were unable to move. Would he have appreciated that? Were you welcome? As he had his back still turned, he had no idea it was you.

“Does that apply to me too?”, you asked, scared of being rejected. Your voice made Charles instantly turn around as he realized who you were.

His face immediately lit up upon seeing you just a few feet away from him. But you could still see the sadness in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“I just wanted to see how you were… you know after everything that happened, but if you prefer being alone, I can…”

He didn't let you finish the sentence. “You know there is always room for you on board”, he said smiling.

You smiled back. You were tired of that distance between you, it was time to fill it. You approached him filling the gap between you. Now you were inches away from him.

“Even in your arms? Because I think a hug would do you so much good”, you said.

Without answering, he reached out to you and wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders and back.

“You don’t even have to ask”, he whispered burying his head into your neck.

You tucked your head into the curve of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist. The contact with his body sent a shiver through you. It was like the air was taken from you as you melted onto him and your eyes began to fill with tears. You could feel he was crying too as a slight wetness was soaking your blouse.

Charles sighed as he felt immediately lighter between your arms, relieved. After all those weeks of being away from you, Charles felt he could start breathing again. Without you by his side and with all the pressure leading up to his home race, he had felt like he had been drowning for the past weeks. You were his anchor, the one who kept him afloat when everything else was failing. You had arrived just in time to rescue him.

You hugged in silence for a few minutes. Words weren't necessary, at least not now. Your hearts beating wildly, in unison with each other spoke for you. That was enough.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, not now that you are here with me… That's all that matters now, I don’t care about anything else”, he whispered. “But there is one thing you could actually do for me.”

You pulled away gently and looked into his eyes, your faces inches apart, noses touching and his hands still on your hips.

“What is it?” You were feeling a mixture of curiosity and fear as you were waiting for him to talk.

Charles placed his forehead on yours.

“Would you stay here with me tonight?”

You closed your eyes and sighed, part of you feeling relieved at his words.

“You don’t even have to ask”, you simply said.

His lips curved into a smile satisfied by your answer. His hands cupped your cheeks, as he slowly leaned in and placed his lip onto yours. Your spare hand gripped his shirt gently, pulling him closer until you were pressed against each other. You needed to feel him. But first you needed to do something else.

With your hands on his chest, you took a step behind leaving Charles confused and visibly worried.

“I’m sorry, Charles, for everything. I should have been there for you, especially knowing how difficult it would have been today…”

He took your hands in his and placed his forehead on yours. “Shhhh… You are here now and that’s enough for me. Tomorrow, if we want, we will talk about us but for now I just want to hold you in my arms. No racing, just us. Me and you. Okay?”

You nodded and let out a small whisper “I think it’s perfect”. And you kissed again.

A few weeks later you were back on the yacht, Charles had taken you on a date.

Between Charles’ arms and rocked by the sound of crashing waves, you were staring at the starry sky and enjoying the silence away from the city.

“I’ll be right back”, he whispered into your ear and pulled gently apart from you.

You kept looking at the starry sky when a streak of light crossed the sky and then immediately vanished.

“Look, Charles! A falling star!”, you screamed and turned around to face Charles.

You were speechless and couldn’t believe your eyes.

Charles was in front of you... on his knees. He was holding a small velvet box with a diamond-set ring inside. And it wasn't just any ring but the one that Hervé, Charles' father, had given to his mother when he had proposed to her.

You put a hand in front of your mouth trying to hold back the emotion and the tears.

“Charles…”

“Y/n, a few weeks ago I asked you if you would stay with me for the night. Now I ask you, would you stay with me a little longer?”

Tears streamed down your face as you weren't able to hold them back anymore.

“Forever, Charles”, you finally said. “You don’t even have to ask.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #f1 x reader

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

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Dark!aonung who gets obsessed with shy & quiet reader. She is the daughter of 2 avatars (while in their avatars) but they didn't view her as theirs, since she was born to the avatars. The Sully's sorta took her in.

He bullies her like he did Kiri, enjoying when she gets all teary, but Aonung gets pissed when he finds some other Metkayina boys harassing her.

So he stakes his claim on her, so everyone knows she belongs to him.

Mine to tease

Adult Dark!Ao‘nung x female Sully reader

Words: 4.2k

Summary: It’s one thing when Ao’nung bullies you. It’s a complete different thing when someone else dares to lay their hands on you.

Warnings: explicit smut, mean Ao’nung, shy / cry baby reader, enemies to lovers (kinda??), biting, super heavy dacryphilia (crying kink), bullying, obsessive behavior, harassment, rough oral sex (m receiving), come eating, reader probably has a huge degradation kink, praise kink, dub-con (idk about that I’m still adding it just in case)

Notes: this is super messy and the plot barely makes any sense because I wrote this with way too many breaks in between ugh I still hope you like it!! 🫣

Ao’nung was obsessed, that much was pretty clear. Obsessed with you. In what way though, you didn’t know. Not yet, at least.

"Hey freak, where are you going?"

Your shoulders visibly tensed upon hearing this stupid nickname, not having to turn around to see who was calling you. Only one person ever called you like that anyways. It was either freak or cry baby… how suitable for you.

You began walking a little faster towards the beach, like you had intended to collect some shells for Tuk. Not wanting the said person to pester you so early in the morning, you tried not to pay him any attention. Unfortunately, that didn’t always work.

"Aww come on now, don't ignore me," a strong hand grabbed at your arm and turned you around, making you squeak. Now you could see him, just inches away from you and with a dark smirk plastered to his face.

Ao’nung obviously had a strange hobby of bullying and teasing you and your siblings ever since the day you set foot on his island. And while your brothers had finally gained some of his respect after their little fight, Ao’nung still didn’t ease up his teasing when it came to you. A part of you thought that the reason for this might be that you just didn’t had the guts to fight back like the others did. Well, you weren’t exactly wrong about that.

While Lo‘ak and Neteyam had their fists and Kiri had her smart mouth, all you could do was let it happen and try your best not to cry on spot. It was true, you were a cry baby. You‘ve just always been such a sensitive person, to shy to stand up for yourself. It was especially hard to keep your eyes from watering, when neither of your brothers were around to protect you from his mean words, since you often failed to do it yourself.

And it felt like Ao’nung was aiming for just that. He was always pushing you a little further than he did with your siblings, always following you around whenever he spotted you alone and teasing you over the simplest things. It wasn’t just your looks, not your extra finger or your slim tail. Everything that you did, while trying to blend in with the metkayina clan, was just another reason for him to laugh and call you names.

You really couldn’t help yourself with him. And there was this thing, like a sparkle in his eyes, whenever the tears started to dwell in your eyes and when your cheeks and the tip of your nose got all rosy. He would tower over you, watch the tears roll over your soft cheeks and the way you nervously chewed on your bottom lip and it was like something kindled in him. Yes, Ao’nung was definitely obsessed with you.

It didn’t help that you had this stupid little crush on him. Him of all people. You felt stupid to even think about him like that. And your siblings would probably drown you in the ocean without hesitation if they would ever find out you had eyes for the man that gave you such a hard time every second of the day. Why him? You didn’t know the answer to this yourself. You mostly blamed it on his looks– obviously his charming personality had nothing to do with that. It was unfortunate how stupidly attractive Ao’nung was, considering he was such an asshole. An asshole that enjoyed teasing you.

And that’s how it always went. Usually, it was just Ao’nung giving you a hard time. From time to time, but especially when your siblings were around, he was accompanied by some of his goons too, but they never spoke directly to you. It was always just him. Apart from that, none of the other villagers around your age had interacted with you in any way so far. They all seemingly avoided your family. At first you were a bit sad about that, longing to make some new friends within this clan. But you were also glad that no one else paid much attention to you. At least like this, you only had to deal with Ao‘nung and his dumb friends.

Well, that’s what you thought at first.

Words must have gotten around, probably Ao’nung bragging about how easy to tease you were, how funny it was to see you cry, because later that day, a new group of metkayina decided to show their sudden interest in your alien features.

"Look at that, she‘s getting all shy now", one of the men laughs spitefully as you try to hide your hands by crossing your arms over your chest. What was up with them today? This day hadn’t been long, but it had been so overwhelming already, as if your encounter with Ao’nung this morning wasn’t already enough for a day.

"We don’t bite, c‘mon show us your hands", another one chuckles and then reaches for your wrist. With a firm hold on your wrist he then waves your hand around for all of them to see and it’s just so humiliating. "Stop that", you protest as you yank your hand from his grip, "Don‘t touch me…" It comes out weaker than you intended, your voice already trembling. Where‘s Lo‘ak if you need him? He would’ve thrown a good punch at that asshole, silencing him once and for all.

"That’s so freaky", the third one grimaces and that finally gives you the rest. "Aw look, she’s crying! What a ba—" Whatever that guy wanted to say dies in his throat quicker than any of you can proceed. You look at them with furrowed brows and it seemed like a shadow casted over all of their faces. They looked… frightened?

Turning around to see what they were all staring at in such pure horror, you expected and honestly hoped for one of your brothers to be there. To your surprise, that wasn’t the case. No, it was in fact someone you would’ve least expected now. Could this day possibly get any worse?

With the way Ao’nung was towering behind you, glaring at them, one could mistake it as the possessiveness a man had over his mate. And you were painfully obliviously about that fact. But that’s exactly what these guys thought the olo’eyktan’s son was doing. They thought they must’ve mistaken the way they saw him treating you. Maybe he was courting for you all this time or it was just affectionately teasing? Whatever it was, they knew by the look of Ao’nungs face that they were walking on very thin ice right now.

"Back off", Ao’nung snarls without second thought, "Or I’ll make you."

"Sorry we, uhm, we didn’t know she‘s yours", the one that had yanked your hand up for them to make fun of apologized quickly.

What? Your gaze flicks back and forth between them, utterly confused about the whole situation. But Ao’nung is only staring them down, not even paying any attention to you.

With a few snickering glances in your direction, they all then finally leave the scene. Now that it was just you and Ao‘nung left on the shore, you took a deep, shuddering breath. Gathering all your courage to look at him, you mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."

Ao’nung then finally turns to you, as if he was only now acknowledging your presence. His eyes skim over your limbs as you stand there and it felt like he was judging you. Well, knowing him, he probably did. You mentally prepare yourself for him to continue where these guys had left, but nothing of that sort comes. Peeling his eyes off of your body, he spots your reddened eyes and the obvious tear streaks on your soft cheeks.

"Don’t let it get to your stupid head, you cry baby", he says ever so nonchalantly. You’re truly confused. One second he’s calling you names and making you feel the worst you’ve ever felt and the next second he’s acting like it’s his responsibility to protect you. Protect you, mind you that, from a bunch of guys that did the exact same thing he did –just this morning!

Blinking away the tears, you begin to frown again and for a second, a wave of confidence hits you. Its enough to speak out the question that’s lingering on your mind ever since he showed up.

"You bully me just as much as these guys did, so why protect me? You could’ve just…", you pause for a moment and sigh, "I don’t know, join them or whatever."

Ao’nung is silent for a moment, letting your words sink, before he finally responds, "Is that what you want? Want me to team up with these pricks so we can bully you together?" He scoffs, his arms now crossed over his chest and you visible tense at the reflection of your own words.

You couldn’t help but feel dumb, cursing yourself for your poor choice of words, because he was right. It definitely sounded like you wanted him to bully you. Great. Now he had one more reason to make fun of you. The freak that had a kink for getting treated like shit. Great mother, you prayed that’s not what he thought of you now. Lost in your thoughts and drowning in your own shame, you let your head hang low again, all confidence gone as quickly as it came. Trying to avoid his intense gaze, you begin to count every grain of sand below your feet, hoping he would just get bored and leave if you were quiet for long enough.

"You are mine. That’s why", Ao'nungs voice suddenly slices through the awkward silence and your eyes fly right back up to meet his own, "I won’t let any of these guys harass you ever again."

His.

The words hang heavy in the air.

"Wha– Why?", it bursts out of you before you can even think about it. You don’t even know what exactly you’re asking for or what answer you would’ve preferred here, but his response still catches you off guard.

"You’re cute like that. I like that face you make when I’m mean to you", there’s a sharp grin on his face and he shrugs, "kinda gets me going."

A look of puzzlement crosses your face and it’s not until Ao’nung tilts his head teasingly, that you realize you must’ve stared at him with a pretty funny expression. Embarrassment rushes to your ears, fills your cheeks with red and you quickly advert your gaze to the ground again, nervously biting on your lower lip. What should you say now? What should you do? The air around you is thick enough to cut it. It’s so uncomfortable, you can’t help but pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You nervously shift your weight from one foot to another, fiddling with a loose string of your loincloth.

But Ao’nung says nothing. It’s the second time he’s silent in your presence and it’s so untypical of him, it makes you feel uneasy. It’s like he was waiting for you to respond, but what should you even say to him now? The embarrassment makes you feel dizzy and you start to chew on your lip harder. It’s a stupid habit your mom always told you not to do, not wanting for you to ruin your pretty lips. Well, it seemed like Ao’nung must’ve thought the same thing.

"If you bite your lip one more time I’m going to do it for you", he says, voice laced with what you guessed was annoyance and your eyes widen. Daring to look up at him through your lashes, a small, "Sorry", escapes you.

There it was. A cute little sorry. Ao’nung couldn’t help but scoff as his eyes roamed over your features once more. Now how was he supposed to hold back any longer, especially when you looked at him like that? Rosy cheeks and swollen lips and teary eyes. And on top of all, you apologized to him. It was like you were begging for him to make a move, but you didn’t even realize it.

Ahh, fuck it, he thought.

A smile spread over Ao’nungs own lips as he took a step closer and then reached out to cup your jaw and tilt your head up to meet his eyes. "What are you doing?", you gasp and the trembling in your voice travels down his spine like an electric shock.

"I told you I’ll make sure they won’t ever touch you again, didn’t I?"

His hold on your jaw is firm, as he tilts your head some more and leans down enough so his lips brush against your ear.

"You‘ll let me, don’t you?", satisfaction thrums through his veins when your entire frame jolts in his hold, "You‘ll let me mark you as mine and nobody will ever lay a hand on you ever again. Nobody but me, of course.” He licks the shell of your ear and you shudder, before he makes his way down the curve of your jaw, nipping the length of your neck.

“R-Right here?”, you whimper softly and Ao’nung chuckles. "So it’s a yes then?"

Before you can open your mouth to respond, Ao’nung leans in and gets his mouth on yours.

He can feel the tension under his hands melt away as he finally, finally bites down onto your bottom lip and deepens the kiss, earning a breathless moan that he gratefully swallows down. He hums against your mouth when he gets to suck on your tongue and you can’t help but stand up on your tip toes to meet his touch.

When he pulls away, so you could catch your breath, his dark gaze meets yours. You’re heaving and spit still connects your mouths in a thin string. The flush from your tears give way to the pinkish tint that spreads on your cheeks and nose, lips shiny from spit and bright red from all the biting. What a sight, he thought.

And your eyes, your pretty fucking eyes, they’re still slightly wet from crying, pupils blown and taking over his gaze, hazy yet completely focused on him. They stare so deeply into his own and if he looks attentively, he can see his image reflected in stark black. There’s a glint of innocence and shyness behind it, but above it all, your big eyes spell adoration towards any and everything. You really wouldn’t hurt a fly and that, that makes power rush through his entire body and fills his mind with thoughts of swelling these pretty eyes with tears as they look up to him.

Brushing a few braided strands of hair over your delicate shoulder, he places a kiss to your soft skin. He enjoys the way your breathing hitches when he lets his canine graze over your collarbone and where he left wet kisses earlier, he then suddenly bites down. You gasp, feeling his sharp teeth almost pierce your skin, while Ao’nung contently hums against your flesh. You know the bite marks are going to bruise, but that’s exactly what he was intending here. He wanted them to be seen. He really did put his mark on you, just like he said.

"Get on your knees for me", Ao’nung then whispers against your neck, from where he can feel your throat swallowing.

"W-Why?", you stutter, his sudden command taking you aback. He straightens to look at you properly and with a smug grin on his face, he tilts his head. He’s seemingly amused that you wanted him say it out loud.

"I said I’ll mark you as mine. And I’ll do it in every way I can think of."

At his words, you feel a completely new wave of arousal pool between your legs and you don’t even hide the excited little smile, coyly appearing on your lips.

Stepping back, he lets you kneel down, his hand moving to caress the back of your head, watching as you eagerly lean into his touch and let your eyes flutter close for just a moment. "Good girl”, Ao’nung coos, watching the red blush across your cheeks become even darker. "You’re so pretty like this. Who would’ve through, hm?"

Feeling heat build up in your core at his unexpected compliment, you squeeze your thighs together and sit on your heels to keep looking up at him. The anticipation behind your teary eyes went straight to his painfully hard cock, already straining his loincloth. Ao’nung inhales a breath to steady his racing heart as he slides his thumb against your bottom lip, urging you to relax your jaw. He slides his digit in once you open your mouth, pressing his finger against your wet tongue. His eyes are transfixed on the wetness of tears that are still present at the corners of your eyes.

"I‘m probably more of a freak than you are", he chuckles, making you frown a little, much to his amusement. Ao’nung can feel the wetness of your saliva gliding down your chin and staining his hand, sliding in between his fingers. He changes the single thumb to his index and middle finger and presses down on your tongue, hard enough to make you open you mouth wider. "You look so fucking good like that", Ao’nung mumbles, more to himself, "You have no idea how much you turn me on." He shoves his fingers as deep as he can manage, feeling the way your throat spasms, gagging to accommodate them as your eyes fill up with tears again from the effort.

God this was going to kill him.

"There it is", he says lowly, "Such a pretty girl and all for me, hm?" Your face flushes redder. Ao’nung then retracts his fingers just a bit, watching with half lidded eyes as you suck on his fingertips before allowing them to leave.

He’s quick to undo his loincloth, taking his achingly hard cock in hand before he nudges the tip against your plump lips. "Come on, wet it for me."

He watches you lick your bottom lip before taking hold of his cock, sticking out your tongue to lick the underside of his cock and then suckle on his fat tip like it’s a candy. Ao’nung lets your kitten licks wet his cock, teasing the slit and making him leak into your open mouth.

Your eyes flutter close but then he grabs a fistful of your hair and gently tugs. "Eyes on me. I wanna see your pretty face," he commands. You nod from your position and then slowly start to take his length deeper into your mouth.

Ao’nung groans at the feeling and he can’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing you to take just a few more inches of him. It earns himself a moan that reverberates on his cock, making him hiss. His dilated pupils spell satisfaction from making you react and these are the final nails on the coffin that drive him to his next move.

"I’m gonna fuck that pretty face of yours", his voice is low and strained and he doesn’t miss the way you clench your thighs together at his words. "Just tap my leg if you wanna stop, okay?" Again, you nod as best as you can.

You barely have the time to blink before your head is pushed into his crotch and your throat is completely filled with his cock.

"Oh fuuck", Ao’nung curses as he holds your head there for just a couple of seconds. You quickly find purchase by grabbing his thick thighs, keeping your gaze fixed on his blue eyes that look down on you with such a ravenous expression that it makes your whole frame shiver.

You could hear the squelching sounds from the wetness built up inside your mouth as Ao’nung begins to thrust into your mouth over and over again. You couldn’t really concentrate on breathing through your nose and the way his cock was hitting the back of your throat repeatedly brought you painfully close to gagging. Your eyes immediately begin to tear up, but you still try your best to take him.

"That’s it, ah- fuuck, fuck your mouth feels amazing!" He shoves your head down on his cock again, watching your eyelid flutter, the tears he’s been so fixated on clinging to the corner of your eyes and daring to spill over.

"If I knew how fucking good you are at this, i would’ve done this sooner", he chuckles. Your throat tightens and throbs around his cock, your eyes not leaving his, even as the first tears finally streak down your face– so pretty, small and vulnerable. Just like you.

"You’re gorgeous when you cry, you know?"

Ao’nungs cock thrusts into your mouth just a little faster, your spit mixed with his salty pre-cum begins to leak out from the corner of your mouth as he moves and it dribbles down your chin and onto your cleavage.

"Such a pretty mess", he groans at the sight.

Your vision is blurring from the tears that swell up in your eyes and you don’t know for much longer you‘ll be able to keep it up without breathing, your chest already spasming and craving for air so you give a gentle tap on his thigh. Ao’nungs grip on your hair eases up and he steps back to retreat his cock from your mouth. Instantly, you inhale a sharp breathe, filling your lungs with some much needed air before you begin to cough.

Ao‘nung grins as he crouches down to be eye level with you, taking your face in his big hands before he says, "You know you’re mine, right? And I‘m the only one who gets to see you like this."

"Y-Yes, yes of course", you tell him nodding and then he leans in to capture you in another deep kiss. His tongue curls around yours and there’s just something so insanely hot about the fact that he could probably taste himself on your tongue. It’s a quick kiss and you desperately chase his lips when he breaks it to stand up straight again. "Good. Now open wide, pretty. I‘m not done with you yet", he smiles and you eagerly obey his command.

One of his hands is right back in your hair again as he slides his cock back in your mouth. He hums at the warm heat surrounding him once again and you can feel him twitch, his cock laying heavy on your tongue. You can’t help but gag when he thrusts forward not even seconds later, holding your head firm against his crotch and keeping it there.

He allows you a few second to adjust to him, before he begins to pick up his pace, fucking your throat hard and fast. You feel dizzy and for a moment you don’t even register how loud you are– moaning around his cock, mixed with the squelching sounds of spit and pre-cum spilling over the corner of your mouth as he brings himself closer to the edge, using your mouth like it’s just a little fuck toy to him, recklessly seeking his own pleasure.

Your head is spinning like you’re about to pass out, but you could feel that he was close, his cock throbbing in the depths of your throat, almost blocking any oxygen from reaching your poor lungs. Distantly, you can feel new streams of tears running down your cheeks.

Ao’nungs gaze is entirely fixed on yours and you feels the smallest you’ve ever been, as if you’re about to be eaten up— and you absolutely love it. It’s a shame to admit, but you love how he’s using you. Love how he makes you feel, love how he gets off from the look of your face and you love how he looks at you, like you’re his. Because you are.

At the same time, Ao‘nung thinks of how hoarse your voice will sound tomorrow and how the phantom weight of his cock on your tongue will come back every time you will talk. Everyone will know that you belong to him. They will see his marks on your body, they will hear you voice and they will know.

The sheer thought of him fucking your tight little pussy next, in the same intensity as he was fucking your throat right now, is what finally gets his hips twitching. He holds you still as he cums, cock buried to the hilt in your mouth as you feel him fill you. "Ah f-fuck, there you go. Make sure you swallow it all, yeah?", he groans above you, but his cum, warm and sticky like syrup, runs down your throat without having to swallow, thanks to how far deep he was nestled in your mouth.

"Holy shit", Ao’nungs heaves a breathless chuckle once he had emptied even the last drop of his seed down your throat. The hold on the back of your head then slowly fades into gentle caresses, circle-like movements guiding your neck into relaxation before he steps back and you gasp for air once again. "You did so fucking good", he coos and his thumb swipes over your bottom lip to clean it from any remaining spit. "But I‘ll make you feel so much better now. Like I said, I‘m gonna mark you in every way that I can think of. So lay down and spread those pretty legs for me, yes?"

#Ao’nung #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x female reader smut #ao’nung x reader #aonung x sully!reader #aonung x female reader #aonung x you #aonung x reader #aonung x y/n #aonung #avatar the way of water #avatar smut #avatar 2 #avatar ao'nung #avatar aonung

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