xavier remembers the first time he met you. it was late, maybe 2 or 3 am. he was coming back from the 24-hour convenience store down the street to his apartment, snacks in hand, approaching the side entrance. you didn’t even notice him at first, you were crouched frowning at the bushes, murmuring to yourself.
your face was illuminated by the streetlights, a thin tank top graced your back, with a large sweater falling off your shoulders, accompanied by some thin cotton shorts. he frowned, it was chilly out. shouldn’t you be wearing something warmer?
xavier continued to approach the side door, ready to turn in for the night, but couldn’t help but look back at you as you huffed in frustration. “are you alright?” he found himself asking.
you jumped up, startled by his presence. he resisted the urge to apologize. so he stood by the door and blinked at you, tilting his head slightly as you calmed yourself down. “yeah, just…” you hesitated, readjusting your sweater as a cool breeze graced you both. “i tripped and dropped my lighter in the bushes,” you twisted your lips, glossy and luminous under the soft exterior apartment lights. belatedly, he notices the joint between your index and middle finger. “it’s dark and i left my phone upstairs for the sake of disconnecting for the rest of the night.” you explain, “it’s just me, my eyes, and shit lighting out here.”
xavier’s never seen you before.
you must have been new to the apartment complex, he would have remembered you. your soft and tired eyes, your subdued composure.
he would have noticed you. maybe in the lobby by the vending machines, or perhaps by the elevator, or by the pool, or even by the side door , like tonight. you were beautiful, strikingly so, some part in his brain couldn’t fathom it. he’d been around for so long that time didn’t feel real. he’s jumped timelines, traveled through space and time, landed on different planets, different realities before he landed here, all for one person. he’s met countless people multiple times over, siblings, co workers, even merchants all playing similar fated roles.
he’s never seen you before, and yet something in his chest yielded even when he wanted to resist.
“i can help,” he finds himself saying.
you perk up, “oh yeah?” he couldn’t help but track the flutter of your lashes as you blinked in surprise.
“yes,” he says simply. he places his snacks on the steps leading to the side door and without much fanfare he raises his left palm and summons a gentle star of light. your breath hitches, and a small swell of pride builds in his chest, subconsciously gleeful that he’s impressed you.
wordlessly, you lead him to the bush that ate your lighter and crouch. he gets on his knees beside you and allows his light to drift along the ground. he doesn’t do much scanning, because all he can focus on is how this proximity near you feels.
the tug at his heart returns, and his brow furrows in slight. what did this mean for him? he glances at you imperceptibly, catching your profile. he couldn’t get over how familiar you felt and yet so… fresh... different. like his mind could find reprieve in a new interest, like his heart could rest elsewhere, in the hands of someone who could cherish and seek it out the way you did your lighter.
and again, xavier couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. he couldn't get over how badly he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the incoming breezes, how he wanted to watch you blink at him again with your long eyelashes, how he wanted to watch you reapply your lip gloss as he observed your teeth worry at your bottom lip. what was happening to him?
was this... love at first sight? he doesn’t even remember feeling that with her… just choice and devotion from decisive oaths and divine duty.
“aha!” you whisper-shout, before triumphantly pulling out a plastic black paw out of the bushes.
he watches as you gently wipe the accumulated dirt off the offending object, “is this your lighter?”
you blink at him then look back at the cat paw, then you're rising, and he follows, allowing his light to disappear. “yeah, i bought it at a garage sale a few months ago. had to figure out how to refill it myself… you flick the paw back and…” a small fire erupts from where the wrist is severed.
he watches the light as it flickers in your eyes, the fondness in them tugging at another part of his softly thudding heart. you click the lighter closed, and offer him a small smile, “thanks for your help…”
“xavier,” he supplies.
“xavier,” you repeat.
he likes the way his name sounds in your voice, the way it’s shaped within the movement of your lips.
“thank you for your light.” you say, “you helped me find mine,” you joke quietly, waving the paw around and it does bring a chuckle out of him, it’s almost ridiculous.
“you’re welcome…”
and you share your name with him. he likes the way it feels around his mouth when he repeats it back to you. another breeze curls its way between him and you, leaving you shivering again. he resists the urge to say something about it.
you bring up your joint and chuckle exasperatedly, “hopefully, this keeps me warm.” he can sense the goodnight coming but doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. something keeps him rooted, eyes tracking your face like he’s trying to memorize you.
“may i?” he asks, referring to your paw lighter. you blink at him again, confused, “light it for you,” he adds.
“oh! uh.. sure,” you hand him the lighter and delicately place the tip of your joint between your lips, leaning forward slightly as you dig your hands into your sweater’s pockets. he takes a small step closer to you and flicks open the paw. the tip begins to burn smoothly, the rolling paper darkening under the same fire that creates a gentle warmth between you and him.
he meets your gaze as you slowly inhale your first puff. and… it’s honestly as if time stops for him.
your eyes… he gets lost in them, as if his soul is searching for your trace in all the timelines he’s traversed before getting stuck in this one. your gaze is so guarded and yet willing to let him catch just a glimpse… as if you can feel him reading you… looking for you. he can feel himself getting lost in them tomorrow, in a week, in years to come as if he’s meant to park his mind inside yours.
gently, you lean back and pull the joint from your lips, turning your head to exhale through your lips as some smoke escapes your nose, blinking softly as some tension from your shoulders dissipates. he clicks the lighter closed, and you glance back at him, “thank you.”
he nods, “anytime.” and he hands you back your lighter, letting you stew in his choice of words. “enjoy your night,” he adds, allowing a soft smile to grace his lips as he says your name.
you smile back in tandem, reserved as you accept your lighter, the heat from your fingers sends a rush from his palm through the rest of his nervous system, and he manages to withhold a shuddering breath, “thanks, you too… xavier.”
he makes his way back to the side door, grabs his snacks, and swipes his card to enter the building. he spares one last glance at your profile as you take another drag of your joint and silently tells himself that he’ll make a move if he sees you again. he didn’t care much for what was divine. he always chose his own fate, carved out his own path, and followed his own journey. but something about you…
he couldn’t ignore how different this felt.
he couldn’t ignore how even when he skipped her floor and stepped foot into his apartment, he still felt rooted beside you outside, by the side door.
he hoped you were warm.
.
an: i love the concept of lads falling for nonmc, but reading some nonmc fics feel like a humiliation ritual so i wanted to try my hand at it. soulmates exist yes, but so do new souls and new entanglements. it will never be mc in every universe bc that is just impossible. there is an infinite amount of realities in which the boys pick mc, an infinite amount in which they don't, and an infinite amount in which they pick you, over and over and over again.
you are loved and deserve to be a first choice, please remember that. <3
if this is something you'd like to see more of, please lmk! xx
an apple wasn’t enough to keep you quiet. not when he was fucking you like this.
“what the hell were you thinking, pipsqueak?” he growls in your ear. you could hear the grin in his tone; “visiting me at work, wearing this?” your skirt was pushed up to your waist as he fucked you from behind. you were gripping on the edge of his desk, holding on for dear life.
“you know i have a meeting in 15 minutes,” he breathed. and you did know. and you wore this skirt on purpose, feining for his attention, and as always you succeeded. tears start to prick at your eyes at his brutal pace, he was angling into you to make you remember, to teach you a lesson, a lesson you probably wouldn’t learn. a lesson you’d happily take again.
your moans were guttural, the juices of the apple sticky on your chin. you couldn’t even whimper out his name, you couldn’t even warn him that your orgasm was rapidly becoming unbearable to hold back. he lifts one of your legs placing it on his desk, spreading you wider, making more room for his heavy balls to slap against your clit. he was so much deeper, somehow hitting another angle that made you dizzy. you weren’t much a of crier during sex but— fuck, this one might do it for you.
“how many times… do i have to tell you, pipsqueak?” he taunts, pressing himself balls deep into you. your legs shook as he ground himself into your walls, as if he was trying to permanently bury himself inside of you. fuck, he wasn’t even cumming yet, just granting you pure blissful torture as his tip rocked against your cervix. his evol held you in place as you tried to create space, squeaks escaping the back of your throat at the bullying pressure against your deepest spot.
you couldn’t even placate him with your begging.
a sob escaped you then, your orgasm wracking through your trembling body. but he doesn’t relent, he just chuckles sweetly behind you, grinding into you as he fucks you through it. he glances at the clock, “still got another 12 minutes, baby. how many more can you give me?” he thrusts into you deeply, slowly, pressing his palm against the small of your back, making you feel every bit of his length as another orgasm crept through your body.
xavier remembers the first time he met you. it was late, maybe 2 or 3 am. he was coming back from the 24-hour convenience store down the street to his apartment, snacks in hand, approaching the side entrance. you didn’t even notice him at first, you were crouched frowning at the bushes, murmuring to yourself.
your face was illuminated by the streetlights, a thin tank top graced your back, with a large sweater falling off your shoulders, accompanied by some thin cotton shorts. he frowned, it was chilly out. shouldn’t you be wearing something warmer?
xavier continued to approach the side door, ready to turn in for the night, but couldn’t help but look back at you as you huffed in frustration. “are you alright?” he found himself asking.
you jumped up, startled by his presence. he resisted the urge to apologize. so he stood by the door and blinked at you, tilting his head slightly as you calmed yourself down. “yeah, just…” you hesitated, readjusting your sweater as a cool breeze graced you both. “i tripped and dropped my lighter in the bushes,” you twisted your lips, glossy and luminous under the soft exterior apartment lights. belatedly, he notices the joint between your index and middle finger. “it’s dark and i left my phone upstairs for the sake of disconnecting for the rest of the night.” you explain, “it’s just me, my eyes, and shit lighting out here.”
xavier’s never seen you before.
you must have been new to the apartment complex, he would have remembered you. your soft and tired eyes, your subdued composure.
he would have noticed you. maybe in the lobby by the vending machines, or perhaps by the elevator, or by the pool, or even by the side door , like tonight. you were beautiful, strikingly so, some part in his brain couldn’t fathom it. he’d been around for so long that time didn’t feel real. he’s jumped timelines, traveled through space and time, landed on different planets, different realities before he landed here, all for one person. he’s met countless people multiple times over, siblings, co workers, even merchants all playing similar fated roles.
he’s never seen you before, and yet something in his chest yielded even when he wanted to resist.
“i can help,” he finds himself saying.
you perk up, “oh yeah?” he couldn’t help but track the flutter of your lashes as you blinked in surprise.
“yes,” he says simply. he places his snacks on the steps leading to the side door and without much fanfare he raises his left palm and summons a gentle star of light. your breath hitches, and a small swell of pride builds in his chest, subconsciously gleeful that he’s impressed you.
wordlessly, you lead him to the bush that ate your lighter and crouch. he gets on his knees beside you and allows his light to drift along the ground. he doesn’t do much scanning, because all he can focus on is how this proximity near you feels.
the tug at his heart returns, and his brow furrows in slight. what did this mean for him? he glances at you imperceptibly, catching your profile. he couldn’t get over how familiar you felt and yet so… fresh... different. like his mind could find reprieve in a new interest, like his heart could rest elsewhere, in the hands of someone who could cherish and seek it out the way you did your lighter.
and again, xavier couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. he couldn't get over how badly he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the incoming breezes, how he wanted to watch you blink at him again with your long eyelashes, how he wanted to watch you reapply your lip gloss as he observed your teeth worry at your bottom lip. what was happening to him?
was this... love at first sight? he doesn’t even remember feeling that with her… just choice and devotion from decisive oaths and divine duty.
“aha!” you whisper-shout, before triumphantly pulling out a plastic black paw out of the bushes.
he watches as you gently wipe the accumulated dirt off the offending object, “is this your lighter?”
you blink at him then look back at the cat paw, then you're rising, and he follows, allowing his light to disappear. “yeah, i bought it at a garage sale a few months ago. had to figure out how to refill it myself… you flick the paw back and…” a small fire erupts from where the wrist is severed.
he watches the light as it flickers in your eyes, the fondness in them tugging at another part of his softly thudding heart. you click the lighter closed, and offer him a small smile, “thanks for your help…”
“xavier,” he supplies.
“xavier,” you repeat.
he likes the way his name sounds in your voice, the way it’s shaped within the movement of your lips.
“thank you for your light.” you say, “you helped me find mine,” you joke quietly, waving the paw around and it does bring a chuckle out of him, it’s almost ridiculous.
“you’re welcome…”
and you share your name with him. he likes the way it feels around his mouth when he repeats it back to you. another breeze curls its way between him and you, leaving you shivering again. he resists the urge to say something about it.
you bring up your joint and chuckle exasperatedly, “hopefully, this keeps me warm.” he can sense the goodnight coming but doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. something keeps him rooted, eyes tracking your face like he’s trying to memorize you.
“may i?” he asks, referring to your paw lighter. you blink at him again, confused, “light it for you,” he adds.
“oh! uh.. sure,” you hand him the lighter and delicately place the tip of your joint between your lips, leaning forward slightly as you dig your hands into your sweater’s pockets. he takes a small step closer to you and flicks open the paw. the tip begins to burn smoothly, the rolling paper darkening under the same fire that creates a gentle warmth between you and him.
he meets your gaze as you slowly inhale your first puff. and… it’s honestly as if time stops for him.
your eyes… he gets lost in them, as if his soul is searching for your trace in all the timelines he’s traversed before getting stuck in this one. your gaze is so guarded and yet willing to let him catch just a glimpse… as if you can feel him reading you… looking for you. he can feel himself getting lost in them tomorrow, in a week, in years to come as if he’s meant to park his mind inside yours.
gently, you lean back and pull the joint from your lips, turning your head to exhale through your lips as some smoke escapes your nose, blinking softly as some tension from your shoulders dissipates. he clicks the lighter closed, and you glance back at him, “thank you.”
he nods, “anytime.” and he hands you back your lighter, letting you stew in his choice of words. “enjoy your night,” he adds, allowing a soft smile to grace his lips as he says your name.
you smile back in tandem, reserved as you accept your lighter, the heat from your fingers sends a rush from his palm through the rest of his nervous system, and he manages to withhold a shuddering breath, “thanks, you too… xavier.”
he makes his way back to the side door, grabs his snacks, and swipes his card to enter the building. he spares one last glance at your profile as you take another drag of your joint and silently tells himself that he’ll make a move if he sees you again. he didn’t care much for what was divine. he always chose his own fate, carved out his own path, and followed his own journey. but something about you…
he couldn’t ignore how different this felt.
he couldn’t ignore how even when he skipped her floor and stepped foot into his apartment, he still felt rooted beside you outside, by the side door.
he hoped you were warm.
.
an: i love the concept of lads falling for nonmc, but reading some nonmc fics feel like a humiliation ritual so i wanted to try my hand at it. soulmates exist yes, but so do new souls and new entanglements. it will never be mc in every universe bc that is just impossible. there is an infinite amount of realities in which the boys pick mc, an infinite amount in which they don't, and an infinite amount in which they pick you, over and over and over again.
you are loved and deserve to be a first choice, please remember that. <3
if this is something you'd like to see more of, please lmk! xx
riding caleb was hard. rewarding but difficult, you knew that. he knew that. he always put in 90% of the work when you rode him, but today he wouldn’t stop teasing you about it; and you ended up bickering about if for nearly half an hour before you told him you didn’t need his help-- you only let him help because you knew he’d get in his feelings if you didn’t let him.
“oh, is that so?” he laughed, and there he was laughing at you again. and here he is laughing at you now, underneath you as you struggled to ride him. his hands were folded behind his back, purple eyes glimmering with fond glee. you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you tapped out, and asked for help, but you decided to do your best anyway.
soon enough you find a movement thats most comfortable to you, your hands behind you, resting on his strong thighs as you rolled your hips. his dick was fully sheathed in you, thick, long and deep. you’ve learned to love how his tip felt against your cervix as you were about to successfully pull an orgasm out of yourself.
caleb caleb caleb
your hips spoke for you, rolling to the letters of his name, your anchor. this pace was slower than usual, but it was worth it for how intense the tug at the pit of your stomach felt. it’d be one of those orgasms, a right there, just like that orgasm; an orgasm caleb would usually fulfill for you. but not tonight. a sob threatens to rip from your throat as your movements become stuttered and sloppy. he wasn’t giving you an inch and the tug was only intensifying. fuck.
no, you were not about to mess up this orgasm, you needed it forced out of you, pride be damned.
“p-please… nng.. caleb”, you beg, tears welling in your eyes as you met his gaze. his face is flushed, skin glistening with sweat, he looks so good. and the way he was looking at you-- goosebumps arose on your skin. how could someone undress you with their eyes when you were already undressed?
he doesn’t budge.
this time, you sob for real, “please... i need you, p-please.” and it’s like a switch flickers on, you wonder if he even processed it the first time you asked. his hands drag up from your thighs to your hips, one hand firmly against your hip, as his fingers dug into the meat of your ass cheek, and the other higher on your waist. he doesn't say a word, and a distant part of you wonders if he will get the pace right, but it’s caleb we're talking about. he knew exactly what to do.
caleb caleb caleb
you gasp, squeezing his torso with your knees as a jolt of pleasure knocks through you, your orgasm hits you like a storm; you aren’t even sure if your moaning; all you hear is white noise, until-- “that’s it, baby… take it from me…” his praise rackets around your brain like a rogue pingpong ball. his hands still guide you, his hips grinding inside of you, rolling with your hips as you shake above him.
(mdni 18+) How many times a week is it normal for a couple to do it? Well... You and Caleb are definitely above average.
1.2k. small hc about domestic life and boyfriend!caleb with a little bit of spicy hihi
Since you and Caleb started seeing each other officially, it was only natural that you spent more time in Skyhaven and he in Linkon. You both had such dense and strenuous routines that at any free moment you tried to be together and make the most of it. On a particular day during the first month of your relationship, you arrived at the Colonel's apartment and found some step stools placed at strategic spots in the apartment. They were large and discreet, one near the kitchen counter, another by the bathroom sink, another by the bookcase in the study and many others. The answer when you asked Caleb about it was simple: when he became a colonel and got the right to an apartment, the Fleet asked for his height to make the furniture as proportional and functional as possible for him. Now that you were spending more time there, he made sure to have those steps made at the right height for you, so that you could be as comfortable as possible. In fact, you always wondered why the sink seemed so high when you brushed your teeth, and how uncomfortable it was to cut things on the counter when you tried to cook something. Caleb was always so efficient and attentive, and you loved that about him.
A week after steps stools were added to the apartment, you were used to them. One day, while you were at the kitchen sink, peeling some apples for a quick snack, Caleb came in from a night mission.
"Hey! Want an apple?" You smiled when he hugged you from behind, sinking his face into the nape of your neck easily because of the extra height the step stool gave you.
"What a miracle to find you in the kitchen," he kissed your neck and held your hips, gluing you to him. You brought a piece of apple to his mouth over your shoulder and forced him to eat it, to shut him up. "Hmpf" He tried to speak and you turned around, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.
"How was it today?" You gave him a small kiss on the cheek.
"Boring. I just wanted to come home to you." He rubbed his cheek against yours, sighing. "Buuuut, I had time to think of something"
"Hm?" You hummed with your eyes closed, feeling the warmth of his face against yours.
"I was wondering if... You'd let me put my cock inside you without me having to ask or with any ceremony." He said in a careful voice. "Of course, if you don't want to at the moment, just tell me and I'll completely stop. I totally understand if you find it weird and don't want to do this and I pinky promise we never have to talk about it again and I'll never bring it up ev-“
"I want it!” you said and threw your head to one side. His eyes widened in surprise. "Wherever you want. No matter when you want. I trust you." You kissed one of his eyes. "And I love the idea of you fucking me without ceremony and at any time."
"God, you're going to drive me absolutely crazy. Thank you." He squeezed you in a tight hug.
Once the two of you had agreed on this, you initially thought you'd be having sex the way you always did, hard, deep, kinky, full of fluids, scratches and bites, or doing intense quickies several times a day. But no, it was simple and intimate, simply delicious. Caleb just wanted to be with you and inside you all the time.
Little by little, you realized how the stool he had ordered served more than one purpose. Sometimes you'd be doing your makeup for work, standing in front of the bathroom sink, and Caleb would simply approach you, asking about your plans for the day. As the ordinary words and dialog went on between the two of you, he would gently pull up your shirt, pull down your panties and put his cock inside you. It was addictive. The fucking step stool not only gave you the perfect height for the furniture in the house, but also to leave your ass at the right height for Caleb to find himself in you without having to hold you down, sit or lie down. It was usually like this: his cock nestling into you with slow, intimate strokes, while you both carried on chatting about anything, just spending time together.
By then, you made a habit of walking around the house in your (his) large shirt and no panties, knowing that Caleb liked to be with you, inside you, whenever he could. Of course, you still had brutal sex like two animals frequently, but it seemed that Caleb's obsession and need for you - and you for him - was able to bring about the most painfully intimate, simple and tender sex of your lives. It was just so good to trust so deeply in someone and to want someone so badly that no words or timing were needed. At one moment it was a "Can I stay here with you, baby?" and the next you were reading your book, bent over the counter, while Caleb slid his cock up and down between your folds, stroking himself against your clit, praising you and your pretty pussy. He did it not only because he wanted it, but because he could.
Sometimes he wouldn't even come, or even move. If you were watching a movie, he would surely be inside you, both of you cuddled up, relaxing after an exhausting day, cockwarming.
In fact, you liked it so much that when he didn't take the initiative, you went after him. There were times when he was reading reports, sitting on the living room sofa or in the office armchair, and you would silently approach him, fiddling with your cell phone, sit on his thighs, and soon his cock was hard and hot under his pants. Within moments, you were slowly riding his throbbing cock, while he used his thumb to caress your clit, slowly, just like the rise and fall of your hips. If you got tired, you didn't have to get up. You just kept yourself there, hugging Caleb, with his hard cock throbbing inside you, filling you up completely.
One day, talking to Tara and Simone at the pub in Linkon, the topic came up: "How many times a week is it normal for a couple to have sex?", and the girls debated curiously.
"I don't know, three or two times a week? It depends on their schedule." Simone said, sipping her drink.
"Some couples do it every day! Can you imagine? Having sex every day?" Tara said, her eyes widening. " What about you and your boyfriend? How often do you do it?" She asked, curious.
And that made you wonder. There was the mind-blowing sex, the longing sex, the dirty sex, the rough sex, the slow sex, the sex when you were reading, the sex when he was reading, the sex when you were on your cell phones, the sex when talking about anything, the sex on the kitchen counter, the sex on the bathroom sink, the bath time sex, the movie time sex, the bed time sex, the sleep time sex, the wake up time sex, the boredom time sex, the play time sex… And all you could do was blink, trying to calculate how many times a week Caleb and you had sex and it simply wasn't possible to count.
You laughed, sipped your drink and sighed.
"I don't know, I don't count." And it wasn't a lie.
you want to blame it on him, say it’s his fault and swear that he does it on purpose. but you know he’s not. he can’t help it that he’s so deliciously hung.
somehow he manages to tuck it into his pants in just the right way that leaves you wondering, but behind closed doors when the day is said and done it’s like he sets it loose. he walks around in his boxers or a baggy pair of pj pants, ones that barely contain the sizable bulge that tents under his waistband.
he’s not trying to seduce you but it works all the same.
you almost feel bad when he catches you ogling him. those pretty purple puppy dog eyes gaze down at you with a sinful innocence that makes you huff.
it’s thick and heavy. so so heavy it makes you drool just thinking about the feeling of it in your hands. it stands tall and proud and so pathetically hard for you. it’s pretty. so pretty in the way it seems to challenge you when it twitches and bobs for your attention.
he knows it’s big but he doesn’t know it’s big. he’s just been hauling it around with him all this time not knowing how full it’d make you. how you cry and push your palm against his abs as he humps in and out of you.
“too much too much!” you’d slur into the sheets and he wouldn’t know what to do. is his dick not supposed to be this big?? is he hurting you?? is it normal to feel every twitch and clench of your pussy from all sides like he is right now?? because it’s making him lose his damn mind.
“are you okay? d-does it hurt?” his voice is light but rough as if it was ripped from his diaphragm. the fingers that hold your waist tighten and dip into your skin as he forces himself to slow down.
you pant absentmindedly in response. your core burns violently in the best way possible. Caleb hits every spot all at once and each thrust stretches you out so good. his cock head kisses your g spot so firmly yet so tender, sending you spiraling into a filthy mess. he’s not even going as hard as you told him to and you’re about to cum all over him anyway.
“pips.” he calls. the bed dips beside your head as he leans over you, pressing a loving kiss to your temple and nuzzling into your cheek with his nose. your cunt hasn’t stopped trying to suck him in and he whines and whimpers into your neck in feeble resistance.
“i’m here. just—Caleb, you’re so biggg.” you drawl. “you give it to me so good can’t take it.”
he pulls away to look at you and his lips part to speak but the sexiest moan rips from his throat to interrupt him as you rut your hips back into him. his girthy length slides and catches on all the right ridges and you cry in ecstasy.
the coil in his abdomen suddenly snaps and he’s pumping the fattest of loads right into your womb and you feel it in your throat, the addicting heat swirls in your stomach and the gift keeps giving. it starts to spurt and leak, leaving a milky ring around the base of him, some spilling out to stain the sheets. ‘i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry’ his lips brush the shell of your ear as he chants and his chest presses into your back to anchor you.
all you can hear is the deafening squelching of his seed getting fucked into you and his pitchy wails of your name.
no wonder he’s so big. he’s just so full of creamy white love for you can you feel it? you’ll take it all for him right? :(
tw: intox? both of them are high, OOC caleb?, stoner!caleb,
thinking about caleb being a secret stoner tbh. while yall grew up you knew his friends smoked weed and one night in college he invites you over and casually packs a bong and takes rips off it.
hes surprised you didnt know, hes high for his morning classes and smokes once hes off work. hes called and texted and even hung out with you after a fresh hit.
his eyes are heavy looking, the bright energy behind them muted and his lilac eyes are trained on your lips. hes no longer standing as prim and proper as he usually does. letting his shoulders slouch a bit and lazily lounging on the couch beside you. his voice gets a bit raspy and a little deeper, his smile is more of a lazy grin and the look in his eyes. mmm its like an animal looking ag a delectable treat.
you however have only smoked a few times and even then its been years. he teases you and asks if you want to try some. so you do. but it makes you couch so badly caleb gets worried, pulling you so you standup and putting your arms over your head and murmuring softly to you .
“just focus on breathing okay? its normal to cough its okay pips…. ‘nother deep breath for me… good good… good girl”
his gentle praise further turns your brain into a mushy mess and soon your sitting across from him, your face is held in one of his hands his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“wanna try somethin’?
eventually you two are shotgunning hits because your lungs cant handle the bong and then caleb kisses you while smoke still curls from his lips. the taste of weed and his spit muddling your brain even further and soon youre grinding on his lap
even better if caleb keeps insidting yoj take hits and starts feeling you up just to hear what pretty noises youll make.
it all devolves into nasty kinky breeding sex where caleb is just absolutely destroying you hole. your so high you can only take it.
and of course calebs a gentlman even when hes stoned. after having the best sex of your life he carries you to the bathroom and draws you a bath and tells you how much hes wanted you and for how long.
and then you guys start dating the end
mmmm yes now im thinking about stoner zayne and sylus mmmm very interesting yesyes
Thinking about Husband!Sukuna who just lets you do whatever the fuck you want now.
There was a time when he protested. A time when he had pride, pride in being a man, in being a fearsome king, commanding respect wherever he went.
But you?
You were relentless. So utterly, absurdly relentless that at some point, he just stopped fighting it.
He had never been a man of many words, and marriage hadn’t changed that. It was only a week ago that he sat comfortably on his throne, heavy head resting in his palm as he drifted off to sleep, until he was interrupted by the sudden weight (or loss?) on his chest.
A lesser man would have panicked, but your husband? No. He merely took a long inhale, an even longer exhale, and cracked one eye open to find your tiny, mischievous hands cupping his pecs like a scientist.
“They don’t really move like mine,” you mused, experimentally bouncing the firm muscle in your grasp.
He didn’t know if the subject of this experiment was his breaking point or whatever nonsense idea had wormed its way into your head this time.
Your expression was serious, too serious, as you moved in front of him, gripping the hem of his robe as if a scholar prepped for a dissertation.
“May I remove this?”
His eyes, half-lidded with the dull exhaustion that only centuries of being a king could bring, slowly trailed to meet yours. His lips pressed into a flat line.
You took his silence as consent.
And soon enough, his shirt was discarded, leaving him bare from the waist up as you squinted in intense concentration, leaning in close to his chest.
It was pathetic, really. The size difference. Your husband was a mountain of a man, yes, his frame large enough to dwarf yours entirely. And yet, there you were, fingers struggling to span across his tits as you earnestly attempted to jiggle them, as if you could replicate your own softness on his ironclad frame.
At one point, you had both of his pecs squished together, testing them like some critical judge at a livestock competition.
“Wow, you’re a lot different than me.”
Oh, his lovely wife. His lovely wife, who was genuinely comparing her milk-producing breasts to those of a war-hardened king.
Oh, the patience he had for you.
And despite the sheer disrespect you continually brought upon the honor of Sukuna, the King, the Conqueror, the Lord of Curses…
He still let you.
And it never stopped.
Because right now, right this very moment, he was balls-deep inside you, your knees pinned to your chest as he fucked you senseless, guttural moans echoing in the grand chamber as he pounded into your dripping cunt.
The nights the lord would bed his wife was always the same, multiple orgasms, a sore throat, bruises painting your skin like a lover’s signature, and the brutal satisfaction of a man who knew he could ruin you.
There couldn’t have been a worse time, a worse thought, and for the first time in his life, Sukuna wished, prayed, for something to be different about his wife.
“W-wait, ‘Kuna- fuck- wait-!”
Because he never wanted you in pain, never wanted you to feel anything but pleasure despite the sixth climax of the night barreling toward him, he reluctantly halted.
Oh, may the lords above grant him the strength.
Because you, thoroughly fucked out, hair knotted, sweat glistening across your body, brought your trembling hands forward,
and groped his fucking tits.
Like he was some toy for you to hold onto.
“Okay, continue.”
He stilled. In shock? In horror? In spiritual agony?
Slowly, he tried to thwart at your hands, momentarily lifting one from under your knee, but-
“No, I said continue.”
That’s right. Your wish was his command.
So he continued. And every time his cock rammed deep into your walls, every time you moaned so sinfully, your little hands squeezed tighter.
It was almost comical, your soft, delicate fingers clutching at his immovable chest as if this was your god-given right.
With a grunt, he muttered, “Why must you do this?” His brows furrowed, thrusts becoming punishing.
Through your breathless whimpers, you somehow managed, “Ngh- I just- oh, god- like them.”
His cock twitched at your honesty.
His breasts flexing in tandem.
And when your shaking fingers dared to pinch his nipple…
Oh, that was when the real fun began.
“Fuck, don’t- fuck-” He spat through gritted teeth.
Neither of you could ignore the way his back arched the tiniest bit, the way his thrusts faltered for a split second as your fingers toyed with him.
You were too far gone to form coherent sentences, let alone fucking laugh, but your lips curled in amusement, jaw slack as the wet pat-pat-pat of his cock slamming into you filled the air.
“You think this shit is funny?”
His hold on you shifted. With inhuman ease, he lifted your legs, pressing them together straight up in the air, holding your feet in a single massive hand while his other gripped your thigh in a vice.
The new position devastating.
His thick cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you, punching deep into your cunt, the head kissing your cervix with every pump.
It was enough to wreck you, your body shuddering as your next orgasm tore through you like divine wrath.
And Sukuna, normally composed and always in control, was panting.
As you both lay side by side afterward, spent and breathless, a singular, intrusive thought carved its way into your little head.
“...Can I be big spoon tonight?”
He didn’t respond, simply sighing and rolling onto his side. Letting you attempt to wrap your arms around his impossibly broad back.
Oh, his lovely, sweet wife.
Your hand reached down, fingers splaying, grabbing a handful of his ass.
A slow, agonizing inhale.
Then a measured, exasperated exhale.
“...No more tonight. Please.”
You couldn’t see his face, your own buried between his shoulder blades.
But maybe, juuust maybe, someone, somewhere, could say there was the barest twitch of a smile on his lips.
riding caleb was hard. rewarding but difficult, you knew that. he knew that. he always put in 90% of the work when you rode him, but today he wouldn’t stop teasing you about it; and you ended up bickering about if for nearly half an hour before you told him you didn’t need his help-- you only let him help because you knew he’d get in his feelings if you didn’t let him.
“oh, is that so?” he laughed, and there he was laughing at you again. and here he is laughing at you now, underneath you as you struggled to ride him. his hands were folded behind his back, purple eyes glimmering with fond glee. you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you tapped out, and asked for help, but you decided to do your best anyway.
soon enough you find a movement thats most comfortable to you, your hands behind you, resting on his strong thighs as you rolled your hips. his dick was fully sheathed in you, thick, long and deep. you’ve learned to love how his tip felt against your cervix as you were about to successfully pull an orgasm out of yourself.
caleb caleb caleb
your hips spoke for you, rolling to the letters of his name, your anchor. this pace was slower than usual, but it was worth it for how intense the tug at the pit of your stomach felt. it’d be one of those orgasms, a right there, just like that orgasm; an orgasm caleb would usually fulfill for you. but not tonight. a sob threatens to rip from your throat as your movements become stuttered and sloppy. he wasn’t giving you an inch and the tug was only intensifying. fuck.
no, you were not about to mess up this orgasm, you needed it forced out of you, pride be damned.
“p-please… nng.. caleb”, you beg, tears welling in your eyes as you met his gaze. his face is flushed, skin glistening with sweat, he looks so good. and the way he was looking at you-- goosebumps arose on your skin. how could someone undress you with their eyes when you were already undressed?
he doesn’t budge.
this time, you sob for real, “please... i need you, p-please.” and it’s like a switch flickers on, you wonder if he even processed it the first time you asked. his hands drag up from your thighs to your hips, one hand firmly against your hip, as his fingers dug into the meat of your ass cheek, and the other higher on your waist. he doesn't say a word, and a distant part of you wonders if he will get the pace right, but it’s caleb we're talking about. he knew exactly what to do.
caleb caleb caleb
you gasp, squeezing his torso with your knees as a jolt of pleasure knocks through you, your orgasm hits you like a storm; you aren’t even sure if your moaning; all you hear is white noise, until-- “that’s it, baby… take it from me…” his praise rackets around your brain like a rogue pingpong ball. his hands still guide you, his hips grinding inside of you, rolling with your hips as you shake above him.
scissoring, you called it; winking at him cheekily. sure, you were a little drunk when you kept calling him pretty, ‘your ssso pretty, caleb-- wanna scissor with you…’ and sure he didn’t have the exact parts to do as you suggested, but he couldn’t help but picture it. how desperate you’d look under him, deep he’d be able to go, how far you’d be able to stretch…
a few nights later, he had you naked in his arms; shivering under his touch as he brought another orgasm out of you. his lips ghosted over your ankle as he rolled his hips; hands holding your leg upright as he thrusted inside of you, dick hitting your deepest spot; his pelvis granting sweet friction to your swollen clit. scissoring… your walls kept fluttering around him as he fucked you through each orgasm, your hand weakly holding onto the thigh that pinned your waist to the bed. he’d have to fuck you like this more often. your breath shuddered with every thrust, whines escaping your kiss bitten lips when his hand pinched and rubbed at your nipples.
his gaze had you pinned to the bed, he was committing every moan and expression to memory, “you can take it, right, pipspeak?” he asked, breathless as he approached his second orgasm. “yess, caleb.. give it to me..” you garbled, head falling back as he angled his dick further inside of you-- sometimes you felt if he could, he’d bury himself past the hilt, and cement himself in you forever.
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jeon Jungkook is madly in love with you.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Idol!Jungkook x black!reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.6k
Warnings! FLUFF! nothing but pure fluff here, you guys are madly in love, established relationship, boyfriend!jungkook,
Jungkook is in love.
Like, seriously in love.
It hits him at the most random times. Like when he watches you tie your bonnet at night, fingers working lazily as you mumble through a story you started telling ten minutes ago but haven’t finished because you keep getting distracted. Or when you roll over in bed, unconsciously tucking yourself against his side like you know exactly where you belong—even in your sleep.
It hits him when you dance in the kitchen, swaying to a song only you can hear while you wait for the food to finish cooking. And again when you catch him watching you, grinning before grabbing his hand to pull him into your rhythm, not caring if you’re off beat or not. You laugh. He laughs. The food burns. He kisses you in the middle of the mess, mouth tasting of spices and heat.
He’s not sure how it happens, but he just is. In love.
It’s overwhelming sometimes, the depth of what he feels for you. How it crashes into him like a wave, leaving him breathless, disoriented. He’s loved before, sure. He’s had flings and crushes, moments of infatuation that made his heart race. But nothing like this.
Nothing that makes his chest ache in the best way, like it’s too full, like there’s too much of you in there and nowhere else to put it. Nothing that makes him feel so helpless, but not in a bad way. Like he’s drowning and that’s exactly where he wants to be.
So Jungkook does the only thing he knows to do when his feelings get too much.
He puts them into action.
Tonight, he watches you, chin propped up on his palm as you talk with your hands, face alight with excitement. He has no idea what you’re saying. He lost track five minutes ago, somewhere between your teasing smile and the way the dim lighting casts shadows over your cheekbones. But he nods anyway, hums in the right places, just so you keep going.
You’re perched on the couch, feet tucked beneath you, wearing one of his hoodies that swallows you whole. The sleeves are too long, the fabric slipping past your fingers every time you move your hands. It’s adorable, and Jungkook wants to tell you that, but he knows you’ll roll your eyes at him if he does. You always do when he gets too sappy.
“Are you even listening to me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.
Jungkook blinks, caught. He grins, dimples deep. “Yeah, of course.”
You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “What was I talking about?”
Shit.
“Uh…” He scrambles for something, anything, but your expectant look tells him you already know he wasn’t paying attention. He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I was distracted.”
Your lips twitch. “By what?”
By you, he wants to say. By the way your lips curve when you talk, how your eyes get brighter when you’re excited. By the fact that you’re wearing his hoodie and look so damn good in it that he’s starting to regret putting it on you in the first place.
Instead, he shifts forward, resting his elbows on the couch. “You look really pretty right now.”
It’s not the answer you expect. Your brows lift slightly before your expression softens, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such a flirt.”
Jungkook hums, pushing off his forearms to close the distance between you. “Only with you.” He leans into your personal space, curling his fingers around the back of the couch to cage you in. “Does that bother you?”
You tip your chin up to look at him, smile still playing on your lips. “No, I like it.”
“Yeah?”
You nod.
Jungkook ducks his head, pressing his forehead against yours. He breathes you in, inhales your scent of caramel and vanilla, lets the heat from your skin seep into his. He wonders what would happen if he kissed you right now. If your lips would taste like the berries you had for dessert, your mouth sweet against his.
“Hey,” he says, voice low.
“Hmm?”
He lets his nose nuzzle against yours, shifting until you’re breathing the same air. “You know I love you, right?” he murmurs, tracing his fingers along your leg. “Like, a lot.” Your knee nudges against his chest as you laugh, body leaning into the couch. Jungkook grins, enjoying the way you feel against him. “Seriously. Like, I’m crazy about you.”
“I know,” you whisper, tone soft. You tilt your head forward, pressing your lips against his temple, and Jungkook melts, his eyes dropping shut as a shiver runs through him. “I’m crazy about you too.” You tilt your head, reaching out to brush his hair from his forehead.
It never gets old, hearing it from you. He grins, leaning in to nuzzle your neck, breathing you in. You giggle, fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp.
It takes him a moment to catch his breath, to clear the haze from his mind. He opens his eyes, shifting until he’s looking at you. Your smile is gentle, your cheeks warm. Jungkook feels something shift in his chest, like it’s getting bigger, like his heart is growing just to accommodate more of you.
“So fucking pretty, baby. You know that?” he whispers, thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek. Your nose nudges against his wrist, turning into his palm. You press a kiss there, lips lingering on his skin. His hand is warm, slightly rough from hours spent practicing guitar, lifting weights, holding microphones, but his touch is impossibly gentle when it came to you.
"I missed you today," he admits, voice lower now, more like a confession than a casual statement. You had been with him just this morning, waking up tangled in the sheets before he left for practice. And yet, his words tell you that his day had felt longer, emptier somehow, without you by his side.
He traces your cheekbone, thumb smoothing over the ridge, dipping into the hollow beneath your eye. Your lashes flutter as you blink, looking up at him through them. Jungkook presses his nose against the bridge of yours again, enjoying the way it feels, like you’re two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.
He closes his eyes when you lean forward, kissing him softly. It's a chaste kiss, lips barely brushing against his, but Jungkook's breath still catches, his heart stuttering in his chest. You do that to him, he thinks, a little dazed. You make him feel like it's the first time every time, like he'll never get used to you no matter how often you touch.
"Missed you too," you mumble against his lips, hands sliding up the front of his shirt. Jungkook shivers, feeling the air get colder against his suddenly heated skin.
His hand curls around the back of your neck as he leans into the kiss, mouth moving against yours in soft nips. You sigh, breath hot against his lips as you melt into him. Jungkook takes it, taking you with it, feeling you up through his hoodie.
You're so warm, he thinks. So warm and so pretty.
You sigh again, pressing into his touch. Your hand curves around his shoulder, fingers sliding beneath the collar of his shirt as he pushes his palm up the side of your thigh. The fabric of his hoodie is soft, but not as soft as your skin beneath. Jungkook breathes deep, feeling your body heat his palm, feeling his heart flutter in his chest.
He likes this. Likes how you feel against him, likes the way your fingers dig into his shirt every time he touches you, likes the hitch in your breath, the way your lashes flutter against his cheek.
You're soft against his hands, body sinking into his, mouth hot against his. You're the opposite of what he's used to. In every way possible. Where the world is loud, chaotic, you are quiet, calm. Where he is messy, wild, you are neat, ordered. Where he gets lost in his thoughts, you are grounded, secure.
And Jungkook can't get enough of you.
He grins as he kisses you deeper, tongue pressing into your mouth. You sigh against his lips, fingers sliding higher up his shirt, and he shivers, heart thumping against his ribcage.
Yeah, he loves you. More than you'll ever know.
When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, he lets out a breathy chuckle. "Now I really don’t wanna let you go."
You blink lazily, head still in a daze from the kiss, your fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. "Who said you have to?" you murmur, smiling up at him.
And Jungkook falls. Again, harder, deeper.
Like he knows there’s no escape from you, no escape from the way he feels about you. He's okay with that. He'll fall as far and hard as he needs to. As long as he can have you. As long as it makes you happy.
It's only fair. You've done it for him.
"Love you," he whispers against your lips, voice barely audible over the pounding in his ears.
"Mmm," you hum, kissing him again. Jungkook smiles into your mouth, pressing against your lips. "Love you too." And it’s like his heart is speaking for him, saying all the things he can’t put into words.
Because there’s no one he’d rather be with than you. No one he'd rather kiss. No one he’d rather tell I love you. No one who makes his heart pound like you. No one whose touch sets him on fire like you. No one who makes him feel this way. This alive. This whole.
You're his everything, you know that?
He'll tell you again, when you're not making out in the middle of his living room. But you are his everything. His reason, his purpose, his heart. The beat he moves to, the music he sings to.
You're it.
And if he ever has to choose between you and everything else…
Well, he'll choose you. Every damn time. Without a thought.
WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
I came across you content some days ago and I fell in love with how you write. I have literally read everything you have posted and let me tell you, you don´t disappoint. Thank you for portraying us black girls in the fandom world and allowing us to feel involved in a world where it sometimes feels like we don´t have a voice, it really means the world and reading your work has genuinely made my weekend.
My favourite couple are Y/N and Jungkook from the Late for Work story, and if it´s not too much of a request, could you please write a drabble about them? I don´t have a specific subject in mind, I just like how you write about their dynamic and their personalities.
By the way, sorry if my english is not great, it isn´t my first language. Anyways, thank you so much and keep doing you, you are amazing <33333.
🤧🤧wow thank you so much for your incredibly kind words. And your English is amazing. Don’t ever apologize for that. You could have written it in your native language and I’d find a way to understand it and the words would still be just as special to me❤️I’m so glad you like my work and I’ll continue to do my best for you and every other underrepresented black/brown/dark skinned person out there!
Here’s the Drabble. It’s a Jealous!JK with some suggestive content and loads of compliments about reader/OC! Hope you enjoy!💜
~
Jungkook wasn’t a jealous person by heart.
He was always grateful for what he had so he never found reason to be envious of what others had. His parents raised him well and taught him the importance of humility and compassion. He never felt the need to be jealous.
Even when he met you. You were already spunky and free, expressing yourself how you saw fit. You didn’t let anyone tell what to do or how to feel and especially how to dress.
Jungkook loved your sense of style; you could be girly and colorful, posh and elegant, alternative and dark, and so many more. You weren’t limited to one thing. You tried different styles and if you liked it, you wore it and that was that.
Everyone stopped to stare at you whenever you walked, your natural charisma and glow too powerful for people to just pass you.
And Jungkook felt so much pride being able to hold your hand. You were all his and he was yours, the sparkling diamond on your hand speaking volumes.
So why the hell wasn’t it speaking to this store attendant who kept staring at your breasts as you tried to pick out a bracelet for your best friend’s baby shower. You had already purchased gifts for the baby but you also wanted to choose something special for your friend.
You were focused on staring at the choices in front of you, trying to decide which one would match her skin tone the best. Jungkook was only halfway listening, his eyes staring daggers at the attendant who was assisting you. Jungkook didn’t notice the guy ogling you at first, all of his attention on you and trying to help the best he could.
It wasn’t until he just so happened to look up and realize the man seemed a little unfocused that he noticed. Following the man’s eyesight, Jungkook found him to be staring at your cleavage that was pushing against your arm as you leaned over on the display case. Knowing you, you probably didn’t even realize you were doing it, too deep in thought over which one she’d like.
You could be a bit unaware at times, especially when you were with Jungkook. He always made you feel safe so you never felt the need to be too aware. He would protect you no matter what and you settled into that.
And you were so in love and obsessed with him that you never even noticed when someone else was flirting with you or ogling you. Jungkook was the only pair of eyes you felt and/or cared about. You were also used to people staring at you so you’ve learned to drown out the stares. It was easy enough to do.
Good thing you had Jungkook.
“I think pink gold is cute but white gold is more classy. What do you think, baby?” You glanced over to your husband who seemed to be staring off into space. He did that sometimes. You called it his Jungkookie sense like Spider-Man. You thought it was adorable.
He hummed, blinking before looking down at you and smiling. “I think white gold is perfect, princess.” He directed his focus to the attendant whose eyes were still admiring your bosom.
Ugh.
You smiled brightly at your husband before nodding and turning back to the attendant. “I’d like to see this one in white gold, please.”
“Of course, miss.” He smiled politely and moved to retrieve the bracelet from a cabinet away from both of you.
Jungkook relaxed for a moment. He hated that gross feeling that was building in his stomach. He was very secure in your relationship; never worrying about you cheating or flirting with other people. Not when you’d come home and suck his cock just because you missed him. You were obsessed with him and you made sure he knew it.
He did. He truly did. He just hated how this guy was staring at you when it was obvious you were taken. It just felt disrespectful. Couldn’t he try to be more subtle or just not look at taken women like you were some piece of meat?
He couldn’t relax long since the man came back with the jewelry.
“I love it! Don’t you think it’s so wonderful, baby?” You bounced on your toes, clapping cutely. The motion caused your breasts to bounce, Jungkook’s eyes cutting to the man who was smiling sleazily at you.
Jungkook could feel his anger bubbling up but he swallowed it down. He didn’t want to make a scene even though he really wanted to punch this guy in the face.
He gritted a smile. “I do. It’s beautiful. Your friend will love it.” He directed his attention back to the guy, reaching into his pocket to take out his card. “We’ll take it.” He ordered, slapping his black card on the counter. The man flinched, finally locking eyes with Jungkook’s menacing ones. He gulped, sweat slicking up his palms.
You made a noise of surprise. “Baby, what?“
“Do you want something too, princess? I’ll get you whatever you want.” He never broke eye contact with the man who was starting to turn pink under the heat of Jungkook’s gaze.
You blinked a few times before a knowing look formed on your face. You hid a smile behind your hand. Adorable.
Leaning over the display case again, you pointed at a ring. “That one. It’ll compliment my wedding ring nicely, don’t you think?”
“I do. Could you wrap them please? With a nice bow?” The devilish smile he sent towards the man was enough to send a shiver down his spine. While the smile looked polite on the outside, the attendant could feel the intensity that radiated off of the hunk of man.
The attendant ducked his head, meekly whimpering out a, “right away” before scampering off to retrieve the boxes and wrapping.
After paying, Jungkook led you out of the store, making sure to deliver a slap to your ass that he’s sure the attendant saw.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous, baby.” You teased once you two had gotten back in the car. Jungkook started the engine, pulling off with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
He scoffed. “I wasn’t jealous. I just don’t like when people stare at you too hard.” His grip tightened on your thigh making you bite your lip. Gosh, your husband was so sexy. And him jealous took his sexy meter from a 10,000 to a 10 Million.
“They can look all they want. You’re the only one who can touch.” Grasping his hand on your thigh, you moved it between your legs, his fingers coming in contact with a wet spot on your panties.
He almost swerved the car, groaning as he tried to stay focused on the road. “How long have you been wet?”
“Since you slammed that card down on the counter.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, leaning over the console to come closer to him. Your tongue darted out to lick a broad stripe up the side of his neck, teeth biting at a fading hickey. “Now why don’t you pull over so you can take what’s yours?”
A wolffish grin spread across his face. Reaching a hand down, he rubbed over the bulge in his pants.
“I’ll start with your mouth. Get over here and show me.”
❥!!warnings!!: rough sex/fight sex, detailed smut, some toxicity, crying during sex [nothing sad lol], mention of choking, hickeys, fingerprint bruise
❥other warnings: sexual intercourse, oral [fem receiving], some fingering, jungkook is so p^ssy whipped and clingy, puppy jk, princess nickname, pillow princess reader [she just wants her nut okay🎀], mention of weed, comparing brown coochie to food 🍫🍓🍦, featuring jimin, POV switching
❥word count: 3.9k
-inspo: seven by jungkook ft latto, gif from jjkgif on twitter, pics from Pinterest
-author’s note: Seven made me push my other wips to the side and write this soo here it is. I love the song and how Jungkook’s been lately so I was deeply motivated. I am still working on updates, but thank you for waiting. I also have some fic recs to share that I’ve kept. I hope you enjoy this for now💕!
-dedicated to: @maltate123 @mayawastaken26 @lelewright1234 @frogs2857 💗 they’ve been motivating me so much to finish my drop, thank you! and @jkoo-njoo because I miss them 🫶🏽
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Jungkook showing up at your dorm at 2:30 in the morning brandishing a My Melody plushie and your favorite snacks further enacts the futility of Jimin’s ability to keep his mouth shut.
What other reason would your ex-slash-situationship be knocking at your door with big eyes and damp, curly hair? With how dramatic Jungkook is, anyone else would have thought he trekked through the light drizzle outside to come comfort or grieve with you. But you know why he’s begging you to let him in and accept his gifts of… proof.
You don’t say anything as you leave the door open for him and go back to making your fruit bowl on the counter. You’d finished showering and doing your skincare routine to prepare for bed, but you’ve been too restless to sleep, hence, why you’re eating. Jungkook appearing out of nowhere looking like that isn’t going to help either.
The sound of him closing and locking the door and then slipping out of his shoes has your skin burning in goosebumps. Only now do you notice your frilly, revealing pajama set when Jungkook sets down his offerings and comes up behind you to hug your waist.
“Princess.”
You ignore him, arranging your strawberries and kiwis on top of the pineapples in the bowl. Being mean doesn’t seem to bother him much at first, since he tightens his grip and steps closer, shamelessly sniffing your sweet skin and watching you make your late night snack. His chin digs into your shoulder until you finish off the dessert with whipped cream.
“Princess,” he calls again. But you shake him off and eat a strawberry slice. You’re supposed to be relaxing. It’s becoming impossible with his breath on your neck and the beat of his heart on your spine.
“Jungkook, seriously…” You scold, finally turning around and looking at him head on. “You never understand what space is.”
Jungkook’s eyes are all twinkly and round when he sees you, despite the reddening in them that you know came from smoking weed. You can faintly smell it on his gray hoodie as he presses you up against the counter.
“I’m clingy, so what?” He mumbles. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not ignoring you,” you lie.
“Missed calls, missed texts… Telling Jimin you need to stay away from me,” Jungkook lists off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Urgh. You knew it was Jimin. A best friend playing both sides in between meant anything you said would make it to the other ear. You could just picture him with the nastiest grin ready to tell your ex all you’ve said about him. Jimin does it to you, too, smiley and hyped about news he needs to tell you about Jungkook.
“Not everything is about you,” you sigh. The way he’s confronting you has suddenly decreased your appetite and replaced it with nervous adrenaline. “Why are you even here?”
“I can’t come check on you now?”
You scoff. “That’s not why you’re here.”
Jungkook licks the piercings in his bottom lip, a solemn expression of that of a puppy’s gracing his boyish features. His head falls to your shoulder in slight shame.
“You think that lowly of me?” He asks. “That I’d walk all this way in the rain for some ass?”
“You’ve done much worse,” you remind him, pushing him off so you don’t have to hear him manipulate his way back into your underwear. Not that it takes him much effort. You think he talks how he does because it makes his dick hard and easier for you to succumb.
Jungkook clicks his tongue at how you read him but follows closely behind you to the other side of the dorm, plopping down onto your bed right next to you like it’s his own and cuddling one of your many Sanrio plushies, half that he bought. You roll your eyes and grab the remote to put on old cartoons, realizing he’s not going anywhere.
Leave it to Jeon Jungkook to be the attached and sickeningly pathetic lover boy of an ex. You hate that he still wants to see you and hang out. You hate that he doesn’t disown you to other people and shit on your name. You hate that he holds onto the connection between you both like it’s his lifeline.
He treats you as you did when you were dating, and it fucking sucks. Even though you lost him, you still have him, and it eats at you that you pushed him away for shit he didn’t have anything to do with. It’s not fair how you’re treating him in return, and you know he deserves better.
Your mind isn’t in the right place to give itself to him like he wants. But your body is. Always.
So you only resist a little when he tugs you into his side, ensuing the push and pull of tonight’s theme. Undoubtedly, the best atmosphere for the best sex. Jungkook understands how he’ll have to play to get your tiny, lace panties down your legs.
Determined, obsessive, and just as hateful back to take control.
Jungkook caresses your skin for a while before he’s pulling you over him, hips pressed together and grabbing your wrists to keep you from fighting him.
“Just give it to me,” he grumbles against your neck, seeing no need to keep beating around the bush. “Don’t you know how bad I wanna fuck you?”
Of course you do. He shows it every time, acts like he can’t go a day without you being wrapped around him or he’ll go insane.
His mouth drags kisses down your jaw as if you’re his last everything and that he needs to prove to you he’s worthy by giving it his all. You briefly think about how deliciously bruised he’d have you in mere minutes when he starts teething at the spot on your neck, aiming to get your pussy drenched and inside of you as quick as possible. But you’re not stupid. Remembering why he’d came over.
“N-No marks.”
Jungkook pauses to lean back, chortling a “What?”
“Don’t give me a hickey.”
He blinks. “Why?”
Don’t you understand blooming little flowers on your flesh is his favorite foreplay for a reason…
You, however, hold his puppy dog eyes and state as seriously as you can, “I just want you to make me cum and then get out.”
Fuck, you’re being rude. But you couldn’t bring yourself to explain about your stupid dress and how you need your skin free of Jungkook’s stupid blemishes for your stupid date in less than 24 hours.
Hickeys mean someone is dicking you down. Hickeys mean you’re taken. You don’t want whoever to see Jungkook’s bruises on you and assume you have a lover.
And you’re positive he knows about it by how he tongues his cheek. Now you’ve pissed him off. He thought Jimin was half fucking with him when he mentioned you were seeing someone.
“Fine,” he huffs, maintaining a calm demeanor, and goes back to leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Obeying your wishes and using more tongue than suction.
His plush lips still get you horny nonetheless. They feel cloud-like against your sternum and the nipple Jungkook frees to suck in between them. He’s already so set on giving you what you want, well-versed in what to do, even the promises of not actually fucking you could deter him.
His bedroom eyes have your thighs clenching as he leans up to unzip his hoodie like he means business, revealing a tank top and toned arms. There’s a gold chain around his neck that adds to the sneaky-link/boyfriend look, and you go to mush imagining how you’re flopping this whole situationship so bad.
But it’s okay. Jungkook is fucking it up just as much, for he’s kind of an asshole behind the doe eyes and really fucking crazy about you. Had to work on some anger issues, but that emotion didn’t help win you back the first time. Now, it’s hard to tell what either of you are doing anymore and why he can’t leave you alone.
He doesn’t want you to become just a girl he used to know. Never.
A pretty girl who loves getting her pussy ate any time of the day isn’t how he wants to remember you either, but how could he stop giving you princess treatment, treat you as anything but? You are his princess, and that for sure isn’t going to be taken away.
Jungkook’s jacket is discarded on the floor and so are your soaked, delicate panties after he tugs them down your ankles. He noisily whines at you spreading your legs for him, aware how all the sparkling shades of brown and the bit of pink on the inside makes him want to devour you whole.
Your skin smells of your strawberry shortcake body wash when he bends to suck on your inner thigh, unapologetically biting and marking there because he really can’t help it. He doesn’t believe you’ll let anyone near his prized possession out of respect anyways, no matter who your date is. This is wholeheartedly his pussy.
It’s why you don’t complain about him adding more onto those fading bruises and willingly hold out your tongue when he brings his fingers to your mouth to suck. He sucks on them after you for good measure, rubbing your clit for a second before sliding two inside.
A dimpled smirk graces his face as you nod your head back against the pillows and moan, grabbing his wrist.
“There she is.”
Jungkook takes a swipe of your cunt with his tongue and slides his fingers in further. Just to tease you with what you’re missing, because he knows you love being stuffed full by his cock over oral... So then he’s taking them away from you, pulling you closer by your hips and settling your thighs over his shoulders. And plunging tongue first into your pussy.
His lip piercings rub against your folds as he sucks and nibbles, stiffening his muscle whenever it nudges your swollen clit. There’s no strategy in mind when he goes down on you, so he’s everywhere, licking hard, more so focused on how good you taste and the wetness coating his mouth.
Jungkook groans as you run your fingers through his scalp and push his head closer, arching your hips in a rhythm he hazily matches. You whimper a “fuck” when he lets you take control of his tongue for a second, tilting your head and tightening your thighs around his neck.
“Right there,” you tell him, watching him eat you out like he can’t get enough, hungrily kissing your cunt like he would your lips. He groans back in acknowledgment, not risking speaking over your buildup. But you don’t want to suffocate him, knowing how dirty you play when you’re about to orgasm.
So you push his curly hair back over his forehead to give him some air, seeing him slowly blink up at you with his tongue assaulting your entrance. His brows angrily furrow and his eyes roll closed as if he’s lucid dreaming this, like he’s in his own world. With the addition of his breathy moans on your pussy, you’d think he was addicted.
Jungkook has you cumming in less than seven minutes from his ministrations, although he could have hung it out for hours if he really wanted to. Your sexy, quick orgasm is worth it with how you’re trying to ride out the high, your legs squeezing his head and tongue captive while your cum oozes.
It always amazes him how he can eat you til you cream your pretty pussy right before his eyes. In addition, the rich and saccharine taste of your essence competes with that of strawberries and cream.
Chocolate-covered strawberries and cream to be exact.
He feels the need to let you in on it, too, and forces his tongue into your mouth. You moan and kiss him back, licking the taste of yourself off your lips when he disconnects.
“You really want me to get out?” Jungkook questions, breathless. You can feel his dick against your leg.
You shake your head. “No…”
You can’t have dessert without dinner anyways, right? Why did you think you would be able to kick him out right after? Jungkook is a certified munch and eats cat the same way he fucks. How could you pass up another round?
“No? You want me to fuck you, princess?” Jungkook whispers, your cunt throbbing in new arousal at how he holds your eyes for confirmation.
“Yes. I want you to.”
Jungkook purposely takes his time to pull off his muscle shirt, enjoying how you start toying with your nipples while you watch him undress.
You swear his sleeper build is insane. Muscles and abs, pert chest littered in hickeys you gave him a few nights back. Going feral over that deep v-line of his as he undoes his belt and tugs his baggy jeans down.
You literally moan at the sight of his pretty dick slapping up against his abdomen. You want to swallow it down your throat til you can’t breathe and choke, but then you think about how giving him the best suck of his life isn’t exactly “leave me alone” behavior… None of this is.
Jungkook is left in his gold chain necklace as he repositions between your legs, and you are already about to tear up when he pulls your hips up on his waist for the angle and spits on you. Mixing it in with your past orgasm and then over the dusky head of his dick as lubricant.
“Jungkook…”
He’s taking too long admiring his tip tease between your folds. He looks down at you with a smug grin.
“You want it that bad? Just so you can cry?”
You shyly glance away at the taunt, feeling small underneath him and not as in much control. He has the upper hand for the rest of the night, and it’s going to be hell.
Jungkook digests your silence as submissiveness, and he dislikes that. He wants you to bark back, get feisty with him, and equally as pissed as he is about that date. You would be livid if he was putting his attention into another woman.
It is pure betrayal he feels when he presses himself to your entrance and pushes in all the way. No moment to adjust like he usually gives you. Just hard and raw cock kissing your cervix in one thrust.
“What’s your fucking problem?” You hiss at the sudden sting. It’s ridiculous that you try to hold him back.
“You’re my fucking problem.”
It comes out in a growl, and before you can ask him what the fuck he means by that, he’s gripping your thighs to push them to your torso, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into his back as he begins thrusting.
“Oh, fuckkk,” Jungkook whines in your ear. You’re tighter like this since he has to fuck you open and can feel you wetting his dick even more for easier slip. But he jerks his hips through the death grip you have around him that he’s sure he’s hitting your g-spot by how loud you’re getting.
His skin starts stinging from you scratching so sharply you draw blood, but he keeps going. You’re losing it, truly, grasping onto the back of his neck and shoulders to hold your ground as he fucks you hard into the mattress.
“I’m right here, princess,” he reassures you and pecks your lips. Your face is scrunched up in pure pleasure, mouth agape, eyes watering. “Feels good?”
You nod.
He knows it feels good, feels like you’re teetering between life and heaven.
“Yeah?”
“Y-Yes, yes, fuck, so good,” you loudly moan, palms falling to his shoulders when he angles his hips a bit deeper. You go to push him to let up, but he moves your hands out of the way, thrusts barely faltering. His stamina and consistency is nothing to play with.
You get a good grip on the hair at the back of his neck next, but it doesn’t stop shit. If anything, Jungkook seems to enjoy how hard you tug at his damp hair while he pounds into you ruthlessly. Speeding up as if he’s about to cum like a masochist, but controlling himself to glide into the pace again.
You want to pass out from how he’s beating your pussy like you owe him money. Your ex is too strong to shove off you, and you’re only weakening with every snap of his pelvis against yours, with every fluttering in your lower stomach. Your eyes are pricking in tears, and you know your orgasm is at the edge.
“Is my princess gonna cry?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hands off of him again and actually stopping to give you a breather. “She’s so big and bad until I fuck her…”
Jungkook lets you fight at him for a bit more because, yeah, you really can’t take dick. Definitely not good, mental dick like his. You cum a lot from the slight pain, though, so he isn’t going to ever deny you your sick pleasure.
Plus, you love it so much. Getting thrown around and manhandled how he likes. He can barely pick up a rhythm after he pins your wrists down to the bed beside your head, you clinging onto him with a baby trapping grip. He grinds so thickly into your walls and against your love button to make damn sure you can sense him in your stomach days later.
Jungkook maintains eye contact as he looks you in the face and lets you cry about it, saying sweet nothings on how pretty you look and how you’re taking his big cock like a good girl. You cum again, holding out for Jungkook so that he can, too. Which he does by pulling out and cumming on top of your sex. He just needed to see that creamy ring around his shaft and knew he could finally let go.
You both lie side by side to calm down and cool off afterwards, staring up at your fairy lights quietly and listening to the sound of another thunderstorm brewing outside. Until your ex tries to cuddle into you, and your heart beats to hurt as much as your cervix.
“Get out.”
“No.”
You sigh. No shit it wasn’t going to be as easy as telling him to leave.
It’s back to ignoring him while you get up and head to the bathroom to pee and turn on the shower. Jungkook, to no surprise, slips in behind you, too. The shower is only big enough for one person, but he doesn’t care. He gets into the crowded space with you, wrapping his arms around your waist with his soft cock against your ass.
You clean and lather each other in your strawberry shortcake body wash and complimentary lotion before leaving the bathroom. Jungkook gets in your bed butt ass naked, so you decide you mine as well do the same.
You allow him to hold you this time, tracing your waist and the curve of your spine until you doze off.
The thin scarf around your neck shockingly looks amazing with your strapless dress.
It’s more natural and fashionable in a not-trying-too-hard-to-impress-your-date kind of way since it covers some skin, although you wouldn’t have to wear the damn scarf if you didn’t wake up to Jungkook next to you.
You forgot he chokes you until you’re near death so that your orgasm has a higher chance of killing you than he does. Now you have a dark fingerprint bruise on your neck and ten more on your hips.
He finally allowed you to kick him out by afternoon after demolishing another fruit bowl dessert you made him, to which you’re sure that’s not the last of him, but it’ll do for tonight. He’s the biggest cockblock, and you’d be stupid to bring your date back here if it gets far.
Unfortunately, the universe continues to voice its disdain for the split from your ex and prevents you from escaping him.
Your date, a college peer, brings up Jungkook over and over at the restaurant. Asking if you two were high school sweethearts, seeing each other, or if he needed to talk to Jungkook before taking you seriously. Like he needed a blessing from him.
Detaching Jungkook’s name from yours and yours from his would be impossible when everyone watched your relationship from beginning to end, rooted for you both. Jungkook lives in your skin everywhere you go, and you have to accept it.
The evening gets boring fast. The guy is more interested in you and your ex’s situationship than you. And constantly bringing up how gorgeous you look and that your skin is glowing, instead of any individuality questions. You think he would personally praise Jungkook if you told him he was the reason for the afterglow.
You don’t order dessert or bother to offer more of your time by declining his ride back to the other side of campus. It starts raining, too, but you decide better on going alone.
You’re waiting for an available lyft ride when you get a message, your battery beginning to drain the rest of the juice it has left.
chimmy🤍: lol ur date thinks ur into him
chimmy🤍: texted me that he thinks ur really cute and wants another date
you: 🖕🏽hell no.
you: he’s boring and jungkook would scare his ass off easily
you: not for me :(
you: just tell him I had a great time
chimmy🤍: will do 🫡
chimmy🤍: did u make it back already??
You glance around the half empty restaurant and the dark parking lot being pelted in rain. On the app, there’s no rides nearby because of the thunderstorm.
you: im gonna walk
chimmy🤍: bitch.
chimmy🤍: if u dont text ur man
chimmy🤍: i set up the perfect date for u two to angry fuck
you: we did that last night and this morning but whatever
chimmy🤍: gasp!
chimmy🤍: fucking disgusting how u cant keep ur hands to yourselves geez..
chimmy🤍: text him
You groan, but you try not to think twice about sending Jungkook your location right before your phone fades to black. You feel terrible about texting him after the way you’ve been treating him as disposable, so you wouldn’t be mad if he decides to ignore you.
It’s fine.
The rain doesn’t seem to be slowing down almost ten minutes later, and you deserve to get drenched in this date outfit.
As you go to step off the covered platform, a figure suddenly knocks into you from the street. They stop you from tripping over yourself in your heels, holding you upright.
It’s Jungkook.
Dripping wet and panting as if he’d ran a marathon.
You weren’t expecting him to come…
“What happened? Why are you crying?” He rushes over his words after getting a good look at you. “Where is he? Imma fuck him up.”
You can’t help but to giggle at Jungkook looking inside of the restaurant windows for the guy, more emotional tears stinging your eyes. You hadn’t noticed you were crying the whole time you were standing here.
“I’m okay.”
You hug him, wiping your runny nose on his wet t-shirt. Jungkook squeezes you tight for a minute, noticing you still sniffling and steps back to cradle your face.
“Then why are you crying, princess? Tell me.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you sigh. Pulling his palms from your cheeks and holding one of his hands. You can’t believe your feelings right now. “Let’s just go. Please?”
Jungkook looks from you to your hand and then back at you again. It’s been a while since you’ve held his hand platonically, but he instinctively grips yours back, comforting.
“Wherever you wanna go, princess. I’m right here.”
“With you,” you say.
“Okay, princess.”
Jungkook removes his jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It’s soaking, but it’s the principle that makes you gush at him being so boyfriend and so adorable.
You offer your hand again before he twines his fingers between yours, stepping out into the cold, pouring rain, walking contently through the darkness together.
