The Story You Reblogged Said Weiterlesen So I Was Like Wait A Damn Minute And Did The Math, I Feel Mad

So good omg

In the Night

Yandere! Yuu Nishinoya x fem! reader

Synopsis: A routine movie night with your best friend turns into a bit more than you bargained for – action movies, popcorn, drugged soda, and a man absolutely desperate for you, no matter how underhanded his methods may be.

Warnings: non-con, non-consensual drugging, choking, bruising, non-consensual groping, delusional Yuu, lowkey dragging action movies sorry, mentions of stalking, mentions of past non-con (by Yuu), somnophilia, implied somnophilia, obviously timeskip!Yuu who decided to get educated and go to college, mentions of reader’s pubic hair, fem reader

WC: 5.2K

I do not condone the behavior or the actions in this work of fiction; please do not replicate anything. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation, please reach out for help.

        “So what movie do y’wanna watch?” Yuu asks, his voice high pitched with excitement as his brown eyes scan through the rows of movie titles. The TV perched on the wall is queued up with Netflix, the various titles jumping out and seeming to fly by as his fingers repeatedly press down onto the ‘next’ button, moving too quickly to even get a glimpse at the synopses.

        You roll your eyes but giggle lightly, the behavior typical from him.

Keep reading

darlin' darlin'

mikey x reader, ran x reader

summary - mikey decides it's time to remind ran who's in charge.

cws - sex worker reader, rans gf reader, mikey cucks ran, degradation, praise, i made mikey's cock huge what do you want from me. i don't think this is hurt comfort but there could be a littol angst in that rans not thrilled mikey's fucking his girlfriend and mikey's mean about it. daddy kink, reader sings.

MINORS DNI

Mikey didn’t want to come. He didn’t want to be at another club, he didn’t want to get high, or drunk, he was still hungover from the day before, a dull throbbing at the back of his head as he leans against the bar. He rubs his eyes.

“You can dip soon,” Sanzu offers. “This’ll be a great front for us, all the tips and stuff, s’great way to clean off our money. I give him a lotta shit but Haitani was right.” Mikey massages his temples. 

“What’s that they say about a broken clock?” He orders a whiskey. “That Haitani has to be right sometimes or someone woulda put a bullet through his head by now.” Sanzu snickers. The drink comes seconds later, chilled, with one large ice cube, exactly the brand he likes. The bar is crowded, but not packed, dark wood and red velvet. The brass accents sparkle in the low light, and men in expensive suits lounge in secluded benches. The stage is empty for now, but the floor of it shines, sparkling with expectation. “How does this work again?” Mikey takes another long sip. 

“The girls come out and perform,” Sanzu explains, “They collect tips, but the men have to bid on them blindly if they want to take them home for the night. They write how much they’d spend on a night with her, but they have to guess how much they’d go for, the bids aren’t displayed, and it costs 10,000 yen to bid. Highest bidder pony’s up and takes the girl for the night. All cash.” 

“Huh,” Mikey realizes he’s finished his drink quickly, the whiskey warm in his ribs. “You’re right, this’ll be perfect.” 

“I’m sure Ran had a great time testing them out,” Sanzu smiles wickedly, “He always does.” 

“Actually,” A voice pipes up from behind them, and Haitani Ran strides across the plush carpet over to the bar, “I liked one of ‘em so much I kept her. It finally happened, I’ve been tied down.” 

“Doubt it.” Sanzu’s grin widens. 

“I’m wounded,” Ran touches his heart, “You don’t think I could be happy with just one girl?.” Mikey clears his throat and Ran gives him a little bow. “Whaddya think?” He asks, gesturing to the packed gentlemans club and reluctantly Mikey nods. 

“It’s nice.” He sighs, and leans against the bar. “Looking forward to seeing the girls.” Ran nods. 

“Not to brag but I’ve outdone myself this time.” He orders a drink and it’s in his hands seconds later. 

“So, what?” Sanzu said, “Are we going to meet this girl?” 

“Yeah,” Ran sips his scotch, “She’ll perform, but uh, don’t think anyone’s gonna outbid me.” 

“You’re willing to bet on that?” Sanzu raises his eyebrows. 

“Literally, yes. No one here would cross me.” Ran says, his lavender eyes darkening. “Plus,” he grins, “Think this one might actually tie me down. For real.” 

“I’ve heard that before.” Rindou joins the group, shaking his head at his brother. 

“You’ll know when you see her!” Ran protests, “Bet even Mikey will admit she’s fine as fuck.” Mikey is getting a refill on his whiskey, and shrugs. 

“I’m,” he pauses, “Particular.” 

“As someone who’s spent a fair amount of time acquiring paid company for you,” Ran says, a weak smile on his face, “I know.” He stretches a little, enjoying that he’s a good few inches taller than even the next largest Bonten executive. 

“I like,” Mikey starts to explain, then stops, frowning, “I like nice girls.” He finishes. 

“She’s real nice,” Ran smirks, and Mikey doesn't get a chance to respond, because the lights darken, and the light chatter of the men in the booths subsides a little. The first woman walks onto the stage, in a green satin dress that skims her curves, with eyes that glitter, the pianist begins playing a soft, jazzy song and she opens her mouth, starting to sing. Her voice is low and sensual, and she keeps her eyes mostly closed, punctuating certain phrases by lifting her gaze to the audience, gifting them with her attention. Waitresses in tiny outfits take bids from men in bespoke suits, the smoke from their cigars wafts towards the ceiling. 

“I can’t believe you managed to combine the two things that rich assholes like most,” Rindou grumbles, “Pussy and gambling.” Sanzu nods. Ran leans back on the bar, 

“Even Kokonoi had to admit this was a good idea.” He says, as the first girl finishes her song, and is led off the stage by a waiter, who leads her to the booth with the man who had bid the most money. A pretty waitress with curly blonde hair taps Ran’s shoulder, hands him a note. “She just went for 500,000 yen. Cash.” 

“Don’t forget the other thing rich assholes like,” Rindou offers, “Showing off.” The man who won the first girl makes a show of putting his coat on and leading her upstairs and out of the bar, to the rooms upstairs. A few more women perform, and they’re all talented and beautiful in exactly the way Ran likes, kind smiles, intelligent eyes, something deeper happening behind the surface, the kind of beauty that makes men want to pry their souls open, and unravel their secrets. The kind of beauty that launches ships, that starts wars.

He had a talent, begrudgingly acknowledged among Bonten, for running these kinds of establishments, the same way Kokonoi could sniff out a deal, or Mikey’s natural predisposition to landing on his feet in a fight, he’d balance the right amount of discretion and flash, of propriety and fun. Of course, usually the most beautiful women ended up in his bed, and tonight would be no different, Mikey assumes. He glances at the exit, a few more women, each more talented and beautiful than the next, had taken the stage, and he was getting bored with the exercise. He stares out at the crowd of men, who would occasionally heckle each other and push each other to spend more, and downs his drink, eyes dulling. Is this the legacy Ran was comfortable leaving? He wonders, Ran who talked often and loudly, of his desire to father children, but seemed incapable of even sticking to a regular prostitute. Did he care what he was remembered for? Mikey is so busy studying his subordinate that he almost doesn’t see you walk on stage. 

The first thing Mikey sees is your thigh, a long leg peeking out from a slit that cuts nearly up to your hip, you can’t be wearing panties, is his first thought, you must not be, and his mouth drops open as the rest of you saunters on stage. The dress is low cut, a glistening red velvet, dipping between your perfect breasts, a thin gold chain is around your neck. Your hair is impeccably styled, sweeping around your face, the soft wash of makeup you’ve applied perfectly accentuates your natural, breathtaking beauty. A hush falls over the crowd, and you part your lips. 

“Love,” you start, perfectly on pitch, tone like a whispered bell tone, “I said, real love, is like feeling no fear, in the face of danger.” The music picks up underneath you, and when you open your eyes the energy in the room crackles, deep and dark, shimmering with energy, it’s like you’re staring right through the men in front of you. Mikey closes his mouth, but not before the others notice. None of them speak though, equally transfixed by your song, a modern siren in strappy heels and winged eyeliner. “A touch, from your real love,” you sing, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile, “Is like heaven takin’ the place of somethin’ evil,” you sway gently, one hand delicately wrapped around the microphone stand. “And I want it,” You catch Mikey’s eyes, he could swear it, “So, much.” Mikey is distracted by Ran waving a waiter over and passing her a note. He realizes, floats back down to earth after his initial infatuation, and is immediately deeply annoyed at the idea of anyone else's hands on your body, anyone else parting your thighs. 

“Told ya she was fine.” Ran mutters, shaking his head at Mikey, who comes to terms with several things very quickly, one, that you weren’t his, two, that you were Ran’s of all people, and three, that unless he acted very quickly, you weren’t going home with him tonight. 

“Darlin, darlin, darlin,” you sing, closing your eyes, clinging to the microphone stand, “I fall to pieces, when I’m with you, I fall to pieces,” your hips are almost hypnotic, the softness of your voice is addicting, “My cherries, and wine, rosemary, and thyme,” and he feels almost paralyzed, stuck watching you, unable to call a waitress over, to tell Ran to hand you over. The song ends and a waiter helps you down from the stage in your heels, leading you to the back of the room, and a chorus of boos from the men as Ran slips his arm around your waist. 

“I pay for it just like you fellas,” He says with a grin, “Simmer down.” They do, after a few good natured jabs. Mikey’s stomach turns as you blink up at Ran, who leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Angel,” He says, gesturing to the other men. “These are my colleagues and my brother, Mikey, Sanzu, and Rindou.” You extend a manicured hand, your nails are the same deep red as your dress. They each take it, and greet you. “Dinner?” He says to the other men, “Or join me in the back once  you’ve,” he gestures to the stage, “Found some entertainment?” 

“I’ll come now.” Mikey says, unsmiling, sliding off his barstool. 

“There’s nothing you think could tempt you,” Ran teases, grip on your waist tightening, daring Mikey to rip you away, “Nothing at all?” The truth was unspoken between them, Mikey knew what he wanted, and Ran knew it too, knew that the pleasure he was dreaming of was locked between your legs, knew that his only hope of ecstasy was just out of reach. Mikey shrugs. 

“I’m,” he doesn’t look at you, “Particular.” Ran’s lips curl into a smile. 

“That you are, boss.” He leads you and Mikey out of the main room into a private dining area, slightly more well lit, a bit more golden, but in sharper relief you only look more beautiful, Mikey notes, settling on the other side of you at the table. Ran settles a hand on your thigh and orders for you, without asking what you’d want. Mikey follows, quickly and the scantily clad waitress disappears. 

“I find it hard to believe you’re so particular that no one here is your type,” You say to him, when the food starts to arrive, steaming baskets of dumplings opened on the table. “Not even Lara?” 

“Which one was Lara?” He asks, reaching for a dumpling. 

“She was first, in green.” You offer, and he shrugs. 

“I guess,” he says, “I work very hard, and I’m careful about dedicating my time to people who are untested.” You nod sagely. 

“That I can understand.” Sanzu and Rindou stumble in with girls on their arms. 

“Hope you paid,” Ran says, eyes narrowing, “We can’t be ripping ourselves off.” His hand moves up your thigh under the table, Mikey’s stomach turns, but you keep your face neutral, bringing a spoonful of soup to your lips. You lean into Ran’s arm, and Mikey swears he can see a slight blush creep onto the Bonten executive’s cheeks. 

“Excuse me,” you murmur, standing and walking to the bathroom. Mikey takes another big sip of his drink, the alcohol hits him hard, and he can’t tear his eyes from your disappearing figure.

“Listen,” Ran says, cutting in on his thoughts as you round the corner to the restrooms. “She’s a good girl,” Mikey looks at his executive, not catching what he means. “You can have her, for the night.” 

“For the night?” Mikey repeats. 

“I’m seeing her,” Ran says, checking his reflection in a knife. “I can’t say I’ll like it, but if you want her, go ahead. On me.” He glances at the shorter man. “Regrettably, I’m a touch attached.” 

“I can see that.” Mikey says, taking another sip of his drink. “I’ll take her.” Ran nods, and Mikey detects traces of vulnerability in him that he’s never seen before. “And you can watch.” Ran blinks at him. “You heard me.” Mikey deadpans. “You’ll be watching.” 

“I-” 

“This is not a negotiation.” Mikey’s eyes harden, “You don’t tell me that I can have something that belongs to Bonten, I own this place, I own you, and I definitely own her.” He scowls. An unreadable emotion crosses Ran’s face. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Glad we remembered our place.” Mikey stands, intercepting you as you return from the bathroom. “We’re going upstairs.” He says and you give him the gentlest, most polite smile, and a tiny little bow. He slips an arm around your waist, leading you up the stairs. They’re dark wood, and carpeted with a lush red rug, softening the sound of Ran’s footsteps behind you. “Do you have a room?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Yes, sir.” You chirp, your tone still soft and muted, but loud enough to cut through the sounds of the conversation in the restaurant below. You feel his grip on your waist tighten as you reach the top, steadying you in  your heels. You don’t look back at Ran, your heart racing. “This way.” You take them both down to the end of the hallway, and open a heavy, dark wood door. Your room has warm, rich, red walls, and dark furniture. There’s a huge bed, covered with pillows, and sitting next to a light pink armchair is a small wicker basket of what looks like toys. You hold the door for both men, Ran has to duck his head to fit under the door frame. You let it close behind you, standing in  your dress. Mikey walks immediately to the basket, digging through it. 

“Take your shoes off.” He orders, and you’re struck by how soft his voice is. It’s not light, or kind, but naturally soft, almost muffled. You sneak a glance at Ran, who's got his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit. You bend over, undoing the buckle on the top of your strappy heel and then stepping out of it, letting out a soft sigh of relief. You fold even more to get the other one, taking both and setting them next to the bed. Mikey hasn’t turned around, but you realize without your shoes that he’s actually taller than you. Ran is gigantic without your heels, well over six feet tall, and he doesn’t offer you any comfort, doesn’t dare touch you. His face is completely unreadable as Mikey takes the basket and sets it on the floor, striding across the room and handing something to you. They’re a pair of red leather handcuffs, the silver chain glinting in low light. “Put those on him.” Mikey says, and you reach for Ran’s hand, but the blonde clears his throat. “Behind his back.” 

“One sec.” Ran says, and his voice sounds normal, but there’s just a touch of forced brightness to his tone. He slips out of his huge suit jacket, setting it on top of your dresser. He must catch something in your expression, because he gives you a little smile, “Be gentle with me sweetheart,” he teases, and that brings a little smile to your face as you walk softly behind him. Mikey watches the small interaction, jealousy broiling in his stomach. Why Ran, he wondered, why Ran, of all people who you could seem deserving of affection. Vain, lazy, snarky, what the hell did Haitani Ran have that he didn’t? He clears his throat and for the first time, fear flashes on your face. 

“I’m having trouble with the clasp.” You look at him, doe eyed, begging for help and his cock twitches in his pants. 

“Here.” Mikey strides over, closing the cuffs and taking Ran by the arm, sitting him in the silk pink armchair, in full view of the bed. Ran shifts uncomfortably, it’s been a long time since he’d attempted to exist in any way while restrained. Mikey turns his attention to you, reaching out and gently pushing some hair out of your face. “Are you nervous,” he asks, hands coming to rest on your waist, you nod, and you feel his lips on your forehead, your eyes flutter shut. “I’m not gonna let him be upset with you,” he murmurs. “He, like you, belongs to me.” You look up at him sharply, and a little smile flits across his face. “That’s right.” He breathes, “That’s right, you belong to me.” His hand slips down the satin of your dress, and dips between the slit, moving between your thighs, finding you as bare as he’d expected. “Good girl,” he praises, immediately able to feel how wet you are, gathering some arousal on his fingers before dipping two of them inside you, feeling the warmth of your little gasp on his skin. “Shhhh,” he breathes, looking at Ran, who remains impassive, sitting in the chair. “Shhh, baby.” you feel his lips on your cheek as he starts pumping them in and out of you. He nudges your clit out of its hood with his thumb, lips trailing burning kisses down your cheek, to your jaw, to the crook of your neck. “I wanna see you cum for me,” he whispers, “I want to feel it on my fingers, understand?” 

“Mhm,” you whimper, already finding it difficult to keep your thighs from shaking, the pleasure he’s providing is so steady, not building, bringing you to a cliff and leaving you there. 

“You know why I’m prepping you so good,” he says, arm around your waist tightening as your moans rise in pitch, as the sound of him fucking you with his fingers becomes wet and lewd, “Know why, baby?” You shake your head dumbly. 

“No, I,” you shudder, he cuts you off mid sentence by flicking his thumb over your bud, “I, I don’t,” 

“Can’t even speak,” Mikey says, softly reveling in the little victory, “That stupid already, all the words gone from that pretty little head?” You nod, moaning softly, holding his gaze. “That’s it, look at daddy,” he coaches, “Want you to look me in the eyes while you cum for me, understand?” He picks up the pace, forcing any remnants of a response you could have to that back down in your throat. “I’m prepping you,”  he explains, with the patience of a saint as your noises start to sound less like pleas and more like whimpers, “Because you’ve never taken a cock like mine.” Ran shifts uncomfortably in his chair, just as Mikey kisses you, drinking up your soft little sounds. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs right into your lips, “Go ahead, cum for me, I wanna feel it.” 

“Oh,” you manage, the second your lips are free, your orgasm ripping through your body, overwhelming pleasure running through your veins, toes curling as you cling to Mikey for dear life, wrapping your arms around his neck. He holds you up, grunting softly as he lays you down on the bed. He’s drunk on you, drunk on the warmth of your skin, on your sweet, musical sounds, on the way your dress splays out underneath you. He’s nearly forgotten about his subordinate when he hears the chair creek again. He glances at the taller man, half climbed on top of you, one leg between your thighs, hands above your shoulders, when his lips curl into a cruel smile. Ran’s unmistakably hard, a huge tent in his suit pants as he squirms in the chair. A laugh falls from Mikey’s lips before he can stop it, and then he decides he doesn’t care, tapping you lightly on the arm and directing your attention to your boyfriend. 

“He must like you,” Mikey muses, “To still be getting off when he’s not even touching you,” Ran looks away. “Kind of,” Mikey traces a pattern on your bare thigh, “He’s kind of pathetic looking, like this.” You blink up at Mikey, then look over at Ran. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you consider, and both men watch, you let out a soft little sigh. 

“Can I touch him?” You ask, and Mikey considers. 

“No.” He says after a long moment. “If he’s good, maybe I’ll let him eat my cum out of your pussy, hm?” He doesn’t give you time to react, pushing you back down on the mattress with one hand on your clavicle, climbing back on top of you quickly. He yanks his shirt off, throwing it on the floor and not missing the way your eyes rake down his chisled form, he might not be taller than Ran, but fuck he knew he was stronger. He pins your wrists to the bed and kisses you, losing himself in your softness, the way your body curves up to meet his, and fuck, yes, he knows he’s got you when you grind against his clothed thigh. 

“Fuck,” you both hear, and you freeze but Mikey ignores Ran, ignores him muttering under his breath, groaning, “Fuck, I,” you look over at him, and his face is red, he’s writhing against the restraints, desperately attempting to get some friction, some sensation from his cock that’s trapped in his pants. 

“You wanna look at him so badly,” Mikey cautions, ‘I’ll make you stare at him the whole time.” Your eyes widen and you focus back on him. “He’s not here,” Mikey breathes, and you shudder, feeling the warmth of his lips on your neck. “He’s not here, and you don’t belong to him.” He pushes your thighs apart with his legs, reaching up and fumbling with his fly. “You belong,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pressing the head of his cock to your pulsing clit, pulling away so that he could watch you reach to it, this, this was his favorite part. “You belong to me.” He roughly sheaths himself inside you and you keen, it hurts, he’s easily the longest, the thickest cock you’ve ever taken, tears spring to your eyes and he kisses them away, “Shhh, shh,” he says, oozing smugness, “So pretty, such a pretty girl,” he rolls his hips against yours experimentally, still half buried in you. 

“Please,” You beg, “Please, can  you, would you go slow?” He reaches down, cupping your face, 

“Paying attention to me now, huh?” He says, and you nod emphatically. 

“Sorry,”  you choke out, feeling him push a little further inside you, “Yes, yes daddy, I’m,” your eyes roll back in your head, he feels the way you clench around him. “Paying, I’m paying attention.” 

“Good girl,” he says, pushing the last few inches inside you, rubbing at your clit before withdrawing a little and fucking you deep and slow. You feel so full you struggle for breath, hands fisting the soft pink sheets, you feel him wiping away your tears as he picks up the pace just a little. “How does it feel? You feel full?” You nod, whimpering. 

“Feels, feels so good.” you choke out, “But it’s, it’s so much.” 

“I know,” he nods at you, mocking, glancing at Ran, “I know it’s so much, so much for our pretty girl to take huh?” Ran makes some kind of strangled noise in the chair. “Should have gagged you,” Mikey continues, still in the same sweet, soft voice he was speaking to you with, but there’s a darker undercurrent to his tone. “Always running your fuckin’,” he throws his head back with pleasure, “Runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth,” he looks down at you, “You, baby,” he fucks you harder, pulling sharp mewls from your lips, “You’re more than just a pretty face huh, got a fuckin’, fuckin’ incredible pussy,” you moan in response and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Whaddya say when daddy gives you a compliment huh?” 

“Th-” you manage and you feel his cock nudge your g-spot for the third time in a row and know he’s found the right angle, the one that makes your toes curl, that arches your back up off the mattress, “Thank you daddy,” you get out the words on the edge of a hushed moan, “I, I’m gonna, if you keep fucking me there I”m gonna-” 

“Greedy,” he taunts, “You wanna cum twice before I do?” He’s losing some of his composure now, you’re sure of it, the feeling of your soft, warm walls clenching around him, but he manages to look at Ran and smirk, “You shoulda taught her better manners.” You don’t dare check on Ran, not again, but the idea of his eyes on your skin, on the way Mikey’s rocking the bedframe with the force of his thrusts makes the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“Jesus christ,” you hear and you catch Ran snap the toy handcuffs like they’re plastic, not bothering to remove them from his wrists before unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out with a desperate urgency, “Please,” he begs, in a tone you’ve never heard before, that he’s never used with you, and that’s when you realize that he’s talking to Mikey, “Please don’t stop, fuck,” Ran shudders as he rubs the tip of his cock before fucking, “God, she’s so hot I-” 

“If you cum before I do, Haitani I swear to god,” Mikey snarls, and the tone is so sharp in contrast to how he’s been speaking that you jump, “Oh,” he turns back to you, “Daddy can be mean, yeah, so be good, be good for me.” You nod, and he hooks his arms around your shoulders, plowing you into the mattress, your vision nearly whites out when you feel him bite down hard on the shell of your ear and then growl. “I’m gonna cum inside this pussy, yeah,  you want that,” you whimper in response, “I’m gonna cum inside you,” he groans, “And I want you to cum with me, you ready,” 

“Please,” you cry out, “Please, Daddy, need to-” 

“Shut up,” he grunts, before groaning loudly, just as your orgasm breaks over you like a wave, you feel him cumming inside, feel how hot it is, feel it squirt out around his length, making your thighs sticking, your palms ache with desire, the pleasure rolls through you wave after wave, and you’re not sure how long you endure the sightless free fall, but when you blink back into your body Mikey is lying next to you. You open your eyes just in time to see Ran cum all over his hands, swearing violently. “Shh, shh,” Mikey pushes your face back to his. “Don’t look at him baby, don’t look at him.” You obey, blinking dumbly. You hear Ran stand, imagine he’s grabbing a towel from your bathroom. Mikey tucks you into his chest, rubbing the back of your head. “Are you in pain?” He asks softly, finding that the usual urge to make a hasty exit isn’t bubbling to the surface. You nod. “I thought you might be.” He presses his lips to the top of your head. You hear a loud smack and with a giggle, realize that Ran’s hit his head on the top of the door frame. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” He snaps, wiping his hands. “Are you finished with her, or,” he blurts, glancing towards the door. 

“I’ll let you know when we’re done,” Mikey says, and feels you stiffen against him, but ignores it. “Sit back down.”

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TANGLED IN YOUR TRANCE • part one

𖤐 MASTERLIST 𖤐

Warnings: mentions of divorce, reader’s clothing described, use of “big brother” and “little sister”, little to no suggestion because we are not there yet

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: pink dividers by @/adornedwithlight! chapters will be longer after this one. Consider this a little introduction. Also, I’ve been asked to start a taglist, so let me know if you want in on that <3

You’re seventeen when your parents get divorced and eighteen when they remarry within two months of each other. Your dad bags a lady who’s closer to your age than his, and your mother finds herself a man who loves living in luxury as well as in debt from his uncontrollable gambling addiction.

It causes your relationships with your parents—all four of them now—to grow tense, causes you to slam doors and spit curses and cover your ears with expensive headphones (courtesy of the stepfather trying to win your affections).

The only, only good thing about your dysfunctional family dynamic is your new step brother, Toma, who you don’t actually see very much, but whatever. You’d been an only child your entire life, lived with a very specific type of loneliness that is impossible to describe, and now suddenly you have an older brother. It’s weird, but there’s an unspoken solidarity between the two of you right off the bat. The marriage between your mom and his dad is absolutely fucked from the start; you know it, and Toma knows it. Just like you both know you’ll be the ones that’ll have to deal with the inevitable fallout.

Every week you pick who you want to stay with, the lesser of 2 evils entirely based on your mood. Do you stay with your father and his irritating wife who only knows how to bond through mani-pedis? Or do you brave the big house full of fake smiles, embellished anecdotes, and late night arguments that echo through the halls?

Usually, it’s the latter that wins out. At least you can seclude yourself in your room there and no one will pester you to go shopping or get your hair done. (The new wife means well, you know deep down. She’s just so fucking annoying.)

Staying with your mom and stepdad also gives you the chance to maybe see Toma if he’s not on tour, at practice, or giving guitar lessons at the nearby music store.

He’s kind of intense, deep frown permanently etched onto his face, popping pills like candy. Usually dressed in perfectly tattered T-shirts and leather pants, his hair is bleached and spiked, one of his eyebrows is pierced—looks like he plays guitar in a metal band.

Which he does.

He isn’t your best friend. You’d barely call him an acquaintance. But every once in a while, you find yourself alone with him in the kitchen or the den. He asks simple questions to make shitty small talk, but it eventually leads you to ask about his band, which always ends in the two of you sharing opinions on music, newly dropped albums, etc.

It’s about the closest you ever get to bonding those first couple years, but it’s good enough for you, makes you feel like you’re not totally alone in the household.

The first time you find a burnt CD on your nightstand happens the same night that Toma sticks up for you at the dinner table. He’s been off tour for a couple weeks, and despite still not knowing him super well, you can tell that the stagnancy is making him cagey.

So, when your stepdad makes an offhand comment about your aesthetic—the skirts and fishnets and combat boots, it doesn’t go over well.

“All that black isn’t exactly inviting, sweetheart. You won’t find a man leaving the house looking like you’re ready to beat someone up.”

You’re used to it by now, spent most of your adolescence listening to your mom and dad bitching about the hair you let cover your face and the gory graphics on your T-shirts. This isn’t anything new to you.

However…

“Why the hell would you even say something like that?” Toma gruffs, fork gripped just a little too tightly in his hand. “The way she dresses ain’t got nothin’ to do with you, so shut your trap about it.”

“Toma—” your stepdad tries to defend.

“No. And why are you so concerned about her looking inviting? What the fuck does that even mean? You tryin’ to marry her off or somethin’?”

All your stepdad can do is get red in the face and grumble an apology, obviously out of his depth.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Keep your shit opinions to yourself, old man.”

You flash Toma a weak but grateful smile, nods in return, and that’s that.

It’s only when you’re winding down for the night that you spot it, the clear case and the bright blue disc within. His handwriting is surprisingly legible, all caps spelling out PLAYLIST #1 followed by each track in smaller print.

You’re only a little nervous when you knock on Toma’s bedroom door. You’ve never been inside before, all the way at the end of the hallway with the door perpetually shut. Your step brother doesn’t intimidate you, exactly, you just don’t have the best read on him yet.

When Toma opens the door, he’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen him, wearing a t-shirt full of holes and a pair of black sweatpants. His hair is down and damp, barefoot as he steps to the side, and the chain he never seems to take off is missing from around his neck.

It’s strange seeing him like this: no tough guy exterior, just a dude in his early twenties living with his parents.

That’s not to say you look like you’re ready to hit the town. Sporting an oversized Hello Kitty shirt and little pajama shorts, you were ready to crawl into bed before you found the CD. The difference here is that while you’re taken off guard by Toma’s relaxed appearance, he doesn’t even seem to notice yours. And why would he?

You hold up the disc with a raised eyebrow, “a gift?”

Toma shrugs, lifting his arm high enough to let you walk under it and into his room, shutting the door behind you. Around any other guy, an action like that would have made your stomach flip in anticipation, but not this time. Definitely not this time.

“A few of ‘em are from bands we’ve toured with, but most of it is just shit I’m into that I think you might like.”

All you can reply with is a lame, “cool, cool,” too distracted with glancing around his room.

“I’m guessin’ you haven’t listened to it yet?”

You shake your head, eyes landing back on him as he sits at an old desk, a guitar laid out in front of him. From the looks of it, he’s restringing it.

“Not yet. Saw it and just… came to say thanks, I guess.”

He nods toward the stereo system up against one of the walls and tells you, “pop it in, then. I can give you my, uh, expert commentary.”

“Wow, lucky me,” you joke, ejecting the disc that’s already in the player to replace it with yours. You hope your dry tone is enough to cover up the buzz of excitement you feel at the prospect of getting to know him a little better.

For the next hour, you halfway listen to the tracks, more interested in what Toma has to say about each of them. Some of his ‘commentary’ is about the musicality of each song, but he also tells you about how he stumbled upon the the more underground bands and what it was like to play with the ones he toured with.

You use this as an opportunity to explore his space, or the space he allows you to see. You’re not snooping in his closet or anything, but you aren’t subtle as you look over the bulletin board full of tickets and peruse his little bookshelf–music theory, some biographies, a couple of psychology books (one about gambling).

When you pick up a model motorcycle from a shelf, Toma snorts, mutters, “you really are a little sister, aren’t ya’?”

“Huh?” you put the little bike down and turn to him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean rifling through my shit is a little sister thing to do.”

“I’m not rifling through anything,” you tell him, sucking your teeth, “–rifling would be if I was, like, going through drawers or something. I am simply… cataloging.”

He snickers, shrugging broad shoulders, and for some reason you feel the need to add, “I’m not actually that much younger, ya’ know.”

“Three years.”

“Two and a half,” you immediately correct, which, granted, is a little childish, but you can’t help yourself. The last thing you want is for Toma to see you as a baby as someone he has nothing in common with, someone he’d be embarrassed to introduce his friends to.

“Fine,” he concedes, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “two and a half.”

You shouldn’t care what he thinks or how he perceives you. It doesn’t matter. He only just recently entered your life—a new, hastily written chapter in an eighteen-year-long story.

There’s a part of you, though, bigger than you’d like to admit, that desperately wants him to like you, to approve of you–just a little sister’s desire to be loved by her big brother.

𖤐 NEXT 𖤐

“what do I have to do to earn your forgiveness? I’ll burn this entire fucking kingdom and rebuild it if I have too.” • masterlist

everything matters… Aurora

natures joint… (((O)))

mans world… Marina

everybody wants to rule the world… Lorde

crossfire… Stephen

playing with fire… Sam Tinnesz

the fruits… Paris Paloma

walk through the fire… Zayde Wolfe

ivy… Taylor Swift

lover. fighter… SVIRCINA

shum… Go_A

churchyard… Aurora

which witch… Florence + The Machine

in flames… Digital Daggers

labor… Paris Paloma

run boy run… Woodkid

spectrum… Florence + The Machine

too far gone… Hidden Citizens

seven devils… Florence + The Machine

towards the sun… Rihanna

artemis… Lindsey Stirling

carry me… Eurielle

this is the only car i can picture ghost in

imagine him fucking you in it

amazing writing!!!! <3

Important — Matsukawa Issei

No harm in asking a simple question. He asked three, to be exact. Couldn’t hurt so, why were you running?

warnings: stalking, harassment, creep!Mattsun, mentions of trauma

note: I wrote this with mattsun in mind, but could actually be anyone

THIS BLOG CONTAINS AND INTERACTS WITH DARK CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+ ONLY

He thought you looked cute. All frolicky and giddy in your little skirt, thighs soft and plump as your high socks hugged them tight making them spill out a little.

He watched you as you said goodbye to your friends, waited for them to go, leaving you all by yourself at this hour when the sun’s already gone down and the streets are less busied.

That’s when he thought to ask for directions. Asking for your name afterwards was just… small talk. Sure he knew which way to go even before he had asked you but he couldn’t help it, he just wanted you to become aware of his existence. His face. His voice. Him.

“Where are you headed?” he asked you, and he asked you again when you started to back away, his voice deep and breathy, eyes fixated on yours as you came up with your little excuses on how you’re waiting for a friend, or actually, it’s getting late and you should just get home.

Which one was it? Lie better, little girl.

But it’s not like he’s never heard any of that before.

He let you leave, or rather, he gave you a headstart, letting you reach a ‘safer’ distance from him as he watched your back. You picked up the pace, but the both of you were dangerously in sync, and you turned around only to find that he’s still there—you haven’t lost him.

You’ve earned yourself a shadow.

That’s when you started running. If only you could see the look of horror in your face. Not only were you aware of him, now you also knew of his stamina.

Though he meant no harm, still, you ran. He wasn’t gonna do anything. He wasn’t gonna hurt you. He just wanted to be important to you.

Important. That’s all he needed from you. And now that he’s sure he was, he let you be.

Because now, he knew you’d look for him every time you’re out in public. When you walk past a dark alleyway. When you’re lost in a crowd and you’ll always swear you saw his face again.

Finally, it’s onto the next one he’d want to introduce himself to—onto the next one he’d want to be important to.

— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

"Hey, Kook, seriously, this is not a good idea," you mutter, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. Your gaze flickers back to your house, nervousness swirling within you.

Standing beside Jungkook and his–very scary–motorcycle, you can't help but feel a tinge of guilt tingling through you. You hated going against your parents rules...

"They won't even realize you're missing, sugar" Jungkook reassures you, his hand casually resting on your hip, his touch bringing a safe warmth to your side, making it hard to resist his proposal of a late night drive. "it's already late, and all the lights in your house are off, they won't even notice you're gone"

You glance at the familiar surroundings of your home, the huge tree in front of your window, the small but pretty fountain in your garden..., contemplating the consequences of your decision you sigh, crunching up your brows–you know that it's good to break free from the boring routines; to experience life.

Your heart races with fear, but as soon as you feel Jungkook's grip tighten around your waist, you know it's time to break free even if it was just for a few hours. With a hint of a smile and a spark in your eyes, you nod at him, signaling that you're ready and all in–at least you hope you were.

"I promise I'll take you back home before midnight" Jungkook smiles "you're not getting in trouble because of me"

"I'm super scared" you mutter, clutching your jacket tightly against yourself as you gaze at the intimidating vehicle before you

"You'll be totally fine, I promise" Jungkook reassures you, flashing a confident smirk. "I mean, I'm sure your parents-"

Cutting him off, you shake your head vigorously. "Nonono. I don't mean my parents," you clarify, pointing directly at his shiny Harley.

"Oh?" Jungkook chuckles, clearly proud of it patting the seat.

"What if I fall off and you don't even realize?" you pout, your eyes wide with worry. "I've only been on that motorcycle twice in my entire life, and each time it was only for like five minutes tops. I can't even imagine what it would be like to be on it for any longer."

You look up at Jungkook, fear evident on your face. The thought of being on that thing for longer than a few minutes makes you want to throw up.

"Fall off?" Jungkook laughs "Sugar, the chances of you falling off this thing while I'm in charge are 0." He shakes his head now looking serious "I won't let anything happen to you. If I knew this would endanger you I wouldn't let you ride it"

"You can never know, Jungkook!" you whine, bouncing on your feet with anxiety. "I mean, I've watched some videos online of people getting really hurt by motorcycles and stuff" you ramble on, but before you can continue, Jungkook swiftly shuts you up by squishing your cheeks together with his hands.

"Hun," he says, his voice filled with amusement, leaning in and placing a kiss on your pouty lips. The cute nickname and the touch of his slightly wet lips make you go weak in the knees, melting into his affectionate gesture.

"You're so cute," he sighs, patting your cheek gently, leaving a faint red mark behind by the way he squeezed them earlier

"Kook," you whine, protesting his actions, still unsure about all of this

But then Jungkook, being Jungkook, cracks his knuckles and leans against his harley. "Sugar, how about this," he proposes with a mischievous smirk. "You get on here, and I'll take you to somewhere really pretty with a nice view. We can grab some snacks too" he suggests, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"And if–at the end of the night–you decide I was just talking shit" he looks around "I'll dye the bike pink" he finishes

"Fine," you nod "and youll add cute stickers as well"

-

The wind was blowing through your hair as you desperately tried to divert your attention away from the heart-stopping speed Jungkook was driving at.

You had no idea where you were heading– Jungkook said it was a surprise. The darkness of the night made it difficult to make out anything more than a distant lights and blurry outlines of bushes anyway.

Attempting to ease your nerves, you hum softly, leaning back against Jungkook's muscular shoulder. Your eyes instinctively shut, seeking solace in the darkness, but you quickly snapped them open. Panic in you as you realized that the fear got worse when you couldn't see

So you kept your eyes wide open, stealing glances at Jungkook every few minutes. His face was concentrated, his brow furrowed as he focused on navigating his Harley through the night.

He was so handsome... features enhanced by his piercings, each one adding a certain something to him. You always liked his nose, and his lips–oh, they were just too kissable

It was only when the bike finally came to a halt that your daydream abruptly faded. Jungkook extended a hand as you hot off, your legs feeling slightly wobbly from the combination of the ride and drowsiness. "Woah there, sugar" Jungkook grinned, "you good?"

You nodded, giving him a small smile to reassure him. Jungkook held onto your hand tightly, never letting go as he secured his Harley. "We gotta walk a bit now" he said "Ever been to Namsan Tower?" One eyebrow raised as he waited for your response.

Dragging you along behind him, you hurriedly caught up, your hands intertwined as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Because it was.

"No," you shake your head, "it's a bit too far to walk, isn't it?" You nudge your face against Jungkook's strong shoulder, trusting him to lead the way as you blindly follow him

He hums "Yeah, it's a bit of a walk from yoru home, thank god your boyfriend has a bike" he teases you "It's so pretty, especially at this hour. We can pretend it's all ours for the night" he chuckles nudging your hip to get you to look up

When you do, it takes your breath away. From this point, you could overlook the entire city, lights stretching as far as the eye could see. It leaves you speechless.

"Woah" you sigh

"Pretty, isn't it?" Jungkook sighs, his arms wrapping around you from behind as both of you take a moment to fully absorb the scene

"Like you," he murmurs softly after a while.

Confused, you turn to him "what do you mean?"

Jungkook takes a deep breath, wanting to choose his words carefully "it's almost as beautiful as you, sugar" he confesses, his arms holding you even closer "I wanted to bring you here to show you just how I see you through my eyes" He nods, silently reassuring himself that he's expressing himself correctly, just as he practiced in his room before he came to pick you up

"In my eyes, you're like a million sparkling stars" he admits, his vulnerability shsining through. He hopes that his words won't seem strange or weird, but rather sincere. To his relief, you don't find it weird at all.

"Really?" you ask, a hint of shyness in your voice, your small hand gently playing with his much larger one.

His gaze softens as he looks at you from the side. "Yeah, really" he confirms, his voice filled with determination. "I can't help but think of you, all the damn time, and right now...I just...I want to kiss you so fucking badly"

"Why don't you?" You giggle "I'm right here" you nudge him playfully only for him to lean in and do just that, kiss you.

His lips are unsurprisingly soft and slightly moist as they touch yours, they feel different. It's more sensual, more longing more...loving? It's a moment that catches you off guard

Did his kisses always feel this...good?

Of course they did you shake the thought off

But thsi felt different

Jungkook breaks the kiss after a few seconds, his brows furrowed as they stare into yours

What are you doing Jeon? Jungkook thinks to himself

Why are you feeling like this? Why are you so worked up after just a kiss?

As your lips part, you're left breathless. Looking into his eyes that tell so much more than they did before.

"Kook...-"

"Wanna to grab a snack before I take you back home?" Jungkook interrupst you, clearing his throat, his smile lighting up his face as he helps you stand up

"Sure" You nod still a bit caught off guard a small smile on your face as you look around "but there's not much going on around here"

"There's a 7/11 pretty close by, I'll buy you one of those fancy ice teas you like" he nods towards the direction of the store smirking

"You think they'll have the blueberry flavour?" You ask lips pursed as you decide to ignore what just happened. Thinking about how much you enjoyed it when Jungkook passed by one night and brought one with him. You instantly fell in love with the newfound flavour.

"I'm sure they do, and if not we'll just drive to another one until we find it"

-

"You're telling me you've never had boba before, sugar?" Jungkook asks confused, his voice filled with surprise as you both stand in front of the closed boba shop

"What is it then?" you pry, taking a sip of your blueberry ice tea and gazing at him with your wide, curious eyes. Jungkook shakes his head, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"It's ice tea, or actually, you can make it with any drink, I think... Coffee too....I think," he nods, confused himself

"And then you just add flavored pearls to it. Some are apple-flavored, some cherry. Oh, I know you'd fucking love the strawberry ones" he adds, unable to resist pinching your side.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, enjoying the innocence and curiosity that always radiates from you, it made him feel like the world wasn't bad after all...

"Ah, so it's basically a drink for when you're bored?" you chuckle "so you can play with the little pearls in your mouth?" You ask

Jungkook nods, unable to hide his amusement. "Uh, yeah, something like that," he agrees, a soft smile gracing his features.

"I just thought you'd know about it since... well, I don't know, you give off the vibe that you'd like it," he explains, his voice laced with affection as he grips your hips tighter walking towards his bike with you.

- In the studio -

"Seven and eight and nine and-" Mrs. Chuu's instructions echoed off the walls, it was another solo class today, which meant all eyes—actually just Mrs. Chuu's—were focused on you.

Despite the pressure, you found these classes much more enjoyable. They allowed you to express yourself more freely, cracking jokes, and even sharing tidbits about your life, and about Jungkook—though conveniently leaving out his boxing activities, knowing it wouldn't sit well with Mrs. Chuu

As the class winds down, you let out a sigh, relieved that you could finally sit down. Mrs. Chuu starts tidying up the room, humming a tune under her breath when suddenly, she turns to you with a curious smile. "You've never told me what he does, by the way, dear" she says, "that boyfriend of yours"

Glad that she isn't looking directly at you, you bite your lip, contemplating how to answer. "Oh..." you begin, hesitating slightly. "Well, he's... uh... he's...he goes to the gym a lot" you respond, hoping she would accept that answer

Mrs. Chuu's face lights up with understanding "oh, so he's like a personal trainer?" she asks, trying to fill in the gaps.

You nod, "sorta," you reply, biting your lip as you try to maintain the act

In that moment, relief washes over you. Mrs. Chuu's assumption offers a coverup, allowing you to keep Jungkook's true job safely tucked away.

You appreciate her concern and interest, but revealing the truth about his boxing stuff would only make things worse

With a grateful smile, you start helping Mrs. Chuu in tidying up, thankful for her belief of your half lie

"So when am I meeting this handsome young man?" Mrs. Chuu asks and you almost spit out the water you were drinking. Quickly swallowing you clear your throat "uh-oh-" you struggle with your words

"Dear, he's probably wanting to pick you up sometime, and just like I know you, you won't let him" Mrs. Chuu teases, finishing up cleaning.

A lump forms in your throat as you swallow nervously. "Um... Mrs. Chuu, heh...my mom doesn't know about us yet... that's why" you manage to say, your smile awkward

Mrs. Chuu's expression shifts to surprise "Still not?" she asks, genuinely taken aback. "Are you dating a criminal or something?" She teases

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, but you choose to remain silent, not ready to say further

Sensing your hesitation, Mrs. Chuu's tone softens. "Come on, dear. He's your first boyfriend. Your mom would be delighted-" she suggests, however, your plea interrupts her sentence.

"Please don't tell her," you shriek, urgency evident in your voice.

Mrs. Chuu straightens up, her posture more attentive than before. "I wouldn't ever," she assures you, "your secrets are safe with me" she adds

"Good afternoon," a guy interrupts, walking into the studio as if he owned the place. His confident way catches your attention immediately. He looks insanely good, dressed in an all white outfit with some touches of black here and there. It's evident that he has an eye for fashion, which brings a smile to your face. His blonde hair, with just a hint of black roots, adds an extra touch of uniqueness

"Ah, Jimin-ah, you're very early today" Mrs. Chuu greets him with a warm smile. You stand there, feeling a bit awkward, observing their interaction shyly. Approaching people has never been your strong suit.

"I am" Jimin answers and then turns his attention towards you, surprising you as he extends his hand. "You must be y/n" he says, his voice carrying a friendly tone.

Your smile widens as you confirm "I am. You're Jimin?" you find reassurance when he nods affirmatively

"The one and only," Jimin jokes, his tone lighthearted.

"Hes the intern i mentioned tk you a few weeks back" Mrs. Chuu introduces him, explaining how her back troubles had limited her ability to manage things around the studio. You nod in understanding, gently rubbing her shoulder in a comforting gesture

She was really like a grandma to you, and you loved it

"I thought you said it got better? Do you need me to get something for you?" you ask, concern lacing your words. However, Mrs. Chuu quickly dismisses your offer. "No, dear, that's what Jimin's here for now" she reassures you with a smile, and Jimin joins in with a warm nod

"Oh" you nod, relieved by the reassurance. "That's good, then. I don't have to worry about you anymore?" you tease, earning a small pat on your arm from Mrs. Chuu with a disapproving look

Mrs. Chuu continues, sharing more about Jimin. "He's going to the academy too. I got him a scholarship in return for his help" she explains proudly "He's a great guy."

Jimin's cheeks tint with a blush, while you simply smile at him

-

"So, are you in my class now?" Jimin jokes, as he starts to prepare for his class of fifth graders.

You chuckle at his remark. "No, no, I just had a solo class with Mrs. Chuu. I'm sorry, I'll leave now" you apologize, thinking it's time for you to make your exit

But Jimin stops you, his curiosity piqued. "Solo? You don't go here?" he asks, genuinely surprised, referring to the fact that the academy doesn't typically offer solo classes to non regular students.

"No, I don't," you reply, shaking your head. "My mom knows some people here, so I'm able to do this. I come here every day" you explain with a smile

Jimin's eyes widen slightly, puzzle pieces slowly falling into place "Ah, I see," he says.

With a friendly smile, Jimin resumes his preparations, and you start to gather your things, preparing to leave the studio. As you take off your shoes and begin massaging your feet, a groan of pain escapes your lips when you come across a small wound you got earlier in the day from a fall. It's nothing too serious, but it feels unfortunate, especially considering you're a ballerina

"Need some help?" Jimin quickly walks over, his eyes focused on your foot as he points towards it.

You attempt to brush off his concern with a smile, but he interrupts you. "I don't accept 'no's.' Come on, let me help you. I'm good with stuff like this" he insists, his smile inviting and warm.

Without waiting for your response, he heads towards the first aid kit located at the back of the room

You glance at your phone and sigh, realizing that you'll have to send a text to Mr. Lin, informing him that you'll be walking home today. It's a fairly long walk, but you find comfort in it, and it gives you the opportunity to listen to some music and unwind

You also see some texts from Jungkook, but decide to answer those when you're out

Returning your attention to Jimin, he comes back holding a small container of cream in his hand. He places it gently on your small cut

"Thank you, Jimin," you smile, your voice filled with sincerity. His willingness to help and made you soft

"You know what?: you laugh "I actually do feel better now...thank you" you smile again

"It doesn't look as bad, but keep an eye on it. You never know what could happen," Jimin advises with a smile before standing back up. "I have around 15 more minutes until the kids arrive" he sighs, settling down on the floor to stretch

You bite your lip contemplating whether to stay a bit longer, the thought of making a new friend excites you.

Taking a deep breath, you gather the courage to speak up. "So, you're a teacher and a student here?" you ask, curiously

Jimin chuckles at your question "yes and no" he responds, his eyes lighting up. "This is supposed to be Mrs. Chuu's class, but she called me earlier to replace her because of her back" he explains, and you nod happily, delighted to have met a new friend. And as minutes pass your conversation continues, you discover shared interests, like favourite food and shows-

"No way you've watched gossip girl?" You laugh covering your mouth "That's so cool! Who's your fav? Be honest" you ask

"Mh, I always liked blair" he shrugs and you nod

"I'm basic, I liked serena" you laugh and Jimin gives you a look making you roll your eyes "she's not that bad" you defend her

-

Walking down the clean halls, Jungkook's every step echoes throughout the entire floor. Heading past various classroom doors, bits of lectures reach his ears, but his sole focus is on locating room 7—the studio where you always had practise.

Lookig at his watch he sighs–he was in a bit of a rush, hoping that you haven't already gone back home

He wanted to surprise you. He even bought some flowers and bubble tea for you to try. But he had been caught up in some last-minute stuff, making him run behind schedule.

Nevertheless, he's determined to see you, to head to the beach together and have some alone time. The thought of your smiling face and the sound of your laughter echoes in his mind, bringing a small smile to his face

As he turns the final corner, relief washes over him when he spots your street shoes at the door, signaling you were still inside

Thank fuck

Gently pushing the door open, expecting a half empty room he clears his throat, ready to surprise you when he suddenly spots you close–too close–with some guy he didn't know

His eyes narrow as he lays eyes on the scene before him. His jaw clenches tightly, waiting for you to notice his presence, and when you finally do, you...smile? "Kook!" you exclaim, walking up to him with a big smile, ready to wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

However, your hug is stopped by the sight of the flowers and bubble tea in his hand. "You got me flowers?" you pout, looking up at him with an adorable expression "that's so cute"

Instead of reciprocating your mood, Jungkook's expression remains stern. His frown is not directed at you, but rather at the guy who had been way too close to you just a few seconds ago. His protective instinct kicks in, and he can't help but feel a bit of jealousy

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down before speaking. "Yeah, I got you flowers," he says, his voice tense. "But who the fuck is this guy?" he asks, nodding subtly towards Jimin who just laughs making Jungkooks frown deepen

You follow his gaze and your smile fades slightly as you notice Jungkook's displeasure. "Oh, this is just my new friend Jimin" you explain, "We were just talking. Nothing more," smile not really sure why he looked so mad

"Hey man" Jimin greets him only to earn a hard glare from Jungkook

He shakes his head forcing his gaze to soften as he processes your words, a friend.

"Alright, just a friend," he says, his voice now more relaxed. He hands you the flowers and bubble tea

"Thank you, Kook," you say, sincerity shining in your eyes. "I appreciate the flowers and you coming all the way here." You smile

"Of course, anything for you"

Frowning slightly you ask. "Did anyone...did anyone see you?"

"No" he simple says wrapping his arms around you protectively and staring at Jimin with no mercy

Sensing the tension in the air, you decide it was time to call it a day at the studio. Casually reaching for your bag, you shoot a friendly smile at Jimin and bid him goodbye.

Jungkook, always the gentleman, takes the bag from you as you both made your way out of the studio.

Stepping outside, the fresh air greeted you, instantly lightening the mood.

Jungkook reached out to take the flowers from your hands, offering to hold them for you while you tried your drink "So, what's the the flavour?"

"Strawberry."

-

The beach is quiet, just a few birds chirping away, as you sit perched on a rock, thanks to Jungkook being all sweet and giving you his jacket to soften up the hard ground.

Your head is resting on his shoulder while his hand is all snug around your waist. It's one of those rare peaceful moments you get to spend together until Jungkook breaks the silence

"So, that Jimin guy... he's new?" he asks, trying to play it cool but you can sense the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

Lifting your head, you flash him a smile. "Yeah, kinda... he's Mrs. Chuu's intern," you say, excitement lacing your words. "He's been lending her a hand cause she's been struggling with her back lately. Such a nice guy..."

Jungkook lets out a hum, but you can feel his grip on your waist tightening a bit "I don't get why you don't like him," you say, sitting up a little straighter "he's genuinely nice, you know? He even helped me clean this tiny cut I have on my foot earlier"

That mention of a cut catches Jungkook off guard, and his eyes widen as he straightens up as well now, lookibg at you with concern. "Cut? What cut?" he blurts out, clearly worried.

"Oh, it's nothing serious, just a little scrape. But my point is, Jimin was there for me. If I like the guy, shouldn't you too?" You quickly reassure him "if there was something to worry about, if tell you" you reassure him

His gaze softens, and he tugs you a bit closer, like he's staking his claim. "Alright, I get it," he mumbles, a hint of a scoff in his voice. "I just... don't want anyone else to take care of you like I do."

You can't help but melt a little inside at this. Despite his tough exterior, there's a softness that only you get to see, and you loved how you were special enough for him to show it. Cupping his cheek, you lean in, brushing your lips against his. "You know, Jungkook, you're the only one who I genuinely couldnt live without seeing ever again" you whisper, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin

The waves crash against the shore, the birds continue their chriping, and here you are, locked in a moment with the boy who makes your heart skip a beat.

As you pull away from the kiss, you both exchange a knowing smile. Maybe Jimin is nice, but there's no denying that Jungkook is the one who truly makes you, feel like yourself

Peering into your innocent eyes, Jungkook can't resist leaning in for another kiss. This time more intense, with a hint of roughness, as his tongue explores your mouth. His hand firmly cups your cheek, keeping you in place, while your own hand rests against his strong chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart

Between kisses, Jungkook pulls away "You're mine," he says, his voice possessive. "And I trust you more than I trust myself," he confesses, biting his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions. "But I gotta be honest, sugar" he continues, his tone a mixture of frustration. "I don't trust any other guys around you. So... don't get mad if I feel jealous from time to time" he sighs

Cute

You can't help but let out a soft giggle, finding his possessiveness oddly cute. Gently caressing his cheek with your fingertips, you respond, "Kook... I know how much you care about me."

"But you have nothing to worry about kookie" you reassure him, your shy smile radiating warmth. "I've chosen and only you." It's true. Despite his reputation, there's a side of him that draws you in, a softness that makes your heart flutter. You feel safe in his arms, knowing that his protectiveness comes from a place of love

Jungkook's tension starts to ease. His lips curl into a smile, and he pulls you in. "I'm a lucky fucker" he murmurs, "But, don't be surprised if I occasionally get a little possessive."

You nuzzle your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. "As long as you're not fighting anyone were okay" you whisper teasing him a bit.

-

The gym is packed, as usual, with people busily working out. Jungkook strides through the people, his gaze fixed on his phone, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face. He had sent you a good morning message earlier, but there had been no response yet. You were probably caught up in something, he hoped

Just as he's about to reach the boxing ring, Wendy, with her irritating voice and overly touchy demeanor, stops him. "JK! Long time no see. We've missed you around here" she purrs, her voice getting on his nerves

Jungkook barely spares her a glance, his eyes still glued to his phone "yeah, well, I've been working out at my apartment blocks gym. Couldn't be bothered to see your fucking face." With that, he brushes past her, not wasting another second on her

Entering the changing rooms, Jungkook finally lets out a frustrated sigh. He throws his phone into his gym bag and changes into his workout clothes, his mind still thinkingabout yesterday. You talked about everything, yet he still felt some tension

As he emerges from the changing rooms, the loud hits of gloves against punching bags fills the air, mixed with the grunts and shouts.

Each punch he throws is laced with frustration and anger. He puts his energy into his training, letting his muscles do the talking. The rhythm of his punches is like a release, drowning out the distractions of the outside world

-

Wendy's mouth hangs open in disbelief at Jungkook's cutting remark. Irene, sensing an opportunity to stir up gossip, can't help but laugh under her breath, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. Wendy's annoyance quickly turns into anger as she rolls her eyes, marching back to join the rest of her clique

"Here" Irene retrieves her phone and shows Wendy a picture–you and Jimin talking at the studio yesterday.

Wendy's eyes widen as she takes in the image, her mind immediately jumping to conclusions

"I made Joy send me this photo. She says Jimin is new, and look how close the two of them seem. It's definitely going to upset Jungkook if we show him this." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, trying to catch Wendy's interest

A smile spreads across Wendy's face as she contemplates the idea of using the photo to her advantage. "You know what, Irene? Maybe it's time for Jungkook to forget about her and finally notice me"

Irene chuckles, fully on board with the plan. "Exactly, DyDy! This is the perfect opportunity. If he sees that photo, he might just realize what he's been missing and come running into your arms." The two girls exchange knowing glances, giggling

Little did they know, their little plan wouldn't cause any harm

-

Kook🩷: Good morning Sugar take it slow today

Today 8 am

You: Morning! On lunch break right now😋

Today 12 pm

You: *Insert lunch picture* made it myself 👩‍🍳

Today 12 pm

Jungkook can't help but smile as he glances down at his phone, reading through the messages you've sent. Your way of texting was the most lovely thing ever, making his heart flutter "She's so cute," he mumbles to himself, taking a sip of water before composing a reply.

Feeling relieved that you're not upset or mad about anything, Jungkook's tension eases. He knew that sometimes his jealousy gets the best of him. But seeing your messages reassures him that you two are okay

As he hits send, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

Kook🩷: looks good, tonight my place?

Today 12:15 pm

Kook🩷: food + movies?

Today 12:15 pm

"Jeon, 1 on 1 match in 5?" Kai challenges Jungkook, interrupting his peace after reading your messages. Jungkook puts his phone back and empties his water bottle, ready to leave for the day

"Nah, man, I'm done for today," Jungkook brushes off Kai's challenge, his mind already occupied with thoughts of you. He starts taking off his shirt, preparing to head home

Kai rolls his eyes at Jungkook's response, clearly unimpressed. "Man, you've gotten weak since you started dating," he scoffs. "You used to be so reckless, always ready to beat the shit out of everyone in the ring. What happened to that Jungkook?"

Jungkook feels anger bubbling in his chest, turning to look at Kai, his eyes burning "Shut the fuck up, man. You don't want to take this any further," he warns, his voice laced with a scary edge.

But Kai refuses to back down, "Fuck, I didn't know you became such a pussy," Kai taunts, rolling his eyes dismissively

In a split second, Jungkook's patience snaps. His temper flares, and he pushes Kai against the wall, trapping him with an intense grip. "Fuck did you just call me?" Jungkook growls

For a moment, the room falls into a silence as the tension between Jungkook and Kai hangs in the air. If there's one thing about jUngkook is that he refuses to let anyone underestimate his strength or question his status in this gym

As his grip tightens, Jungkook's mind races. He knows he needs to regain control of his anger before it spirals out of hand. With a scoff, he lets lose of his grip on Kai

Kai swallows hard, his brave autitute disappearing "Alright, man, I didn't mean it like that," he stammers, realizing the line he crossed. "L-let's just forget about it, okay?"

Jungkook nods slowly "Yeah, let's leave it at that," he replies, pushing him against the wall a last time before turning away

Jungkook walks out of the building, feeling an insane amount of stress. He can't help but light up a cigarette, muttering a curse under his breath.

"For fucks sake"

With each drag, he tries to calm his racing thoughts, but all he can think about is you. Jimin and you.

He hates that he craves your presence, longing the comfort and reassurance that only you can give him

Leaning against his bike, Jungkook's mind races with thoughts of you. He needs you by his side, now more than ever somehow. He didn't know what was happening to him, he knew he liked you, but lately it's been through the roofs.

Inhaling deeply, the smoke swirls around him, "shit"

He exhales, the tension in his body releases with each drag.

His fingers itch to type out a message, to let you know he's coming over but he just can't wait one more second

Gathering his thoughts, he stubs out the cigarette withhis shoe, and takes a deep breath, getting on his bike.

-

"You're careless and selfish, you can't just be so stupid and get hurt! Ballet is your job! What will you do when you suddenly can't dance anymore? What will I do?" Your mom selfishly yells at you.

You feel like crying, but you try to hold back your tears. You know that your mom is just worried about you and your future as a dancer.

You remember the advice of Mrs chuu who always reminded you of the importance of taking care of your body and avoiding injuries

You sigh

"Look at me!" Your mom yells at you, her voice laced with frustration. You glance up from where you're sitting on your bed, trying to ignore the urge to cry

"Do you understand what a disgrace it would be if you were to injure your foot and couldn't dance again? Your whole life, you've been working towards becoming a ballerina. I've put so much money to get you to where you are. And now, with one careless mistake, you could throw it all away." She sighs heavily

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, your mother abruptly speaks up, "If you do not want to talk, that's fine," she scoffs, "but you should know that there will be consequences if you continue to make mistakes." With that, she slams the door shut, leaving you alone and vulnerable.

As you try to regain your composure, you hear a knock on the window. Your heart races as you hope it's just the wind. However, when theres another knock, you reluctantly turn around to see none other than Jeon Jungkook himself–his timing could not be worse.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" You ask, your voice tired and frustrated. His eyes scan your face and body, and he immediately senses that something is wrong. "Sugar, what-" he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

"Jungkook, I asked you what you're doing here, especially this early in the day! My mom was just in my room and could've easily seen you!" You panic and start to ramble "I don't know what to do! I feel like everything is just spinning out of control. I've been dealing with so much lately and it's all just piling up. I feel like I'm suffocating and I don't know how to fix it." you start crying mid sentence, too tired of having to deal with it all

Jungkook quickly moved to lock the door behind him before anyone could walk in. You couldn't help but feel irritated at his presence. "I needed to see you," he finally breathed out. You let out a sarcastic chuckle and rolled your eyes.

"Well, have you thought that maybe not everything is about you?" you accused him, feeling the frustration from your terrible day bubble up inside you. "I've had the worst day ever and you just barge in here. Can't you see I don't want you here?" you snapped. Despite your outburst, Jungkook stood there, looking at you with concern. He slowly walked towards you, his arms opening up for a hug.

"Sugar..." he said softly, "dont cry- hey" he wipes a tear away "don't cry, pretty girl" You hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to his embrace.

As he held you close, you could feel the tension in his body. You knew he was aware of your anger, but he chose to ignore it. Sensing your discomfort, he asked, "Did you have a fight with your mom again?"

You only nod your head in response, burying your face deeper into his chest. Taking a deep breath he speaks up "I'm sorry. I should have at least sent a message letting you know I was coming over." His gentle touch pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

You couldn't help but feel guilty "no, I'm sorry." You needed him now more than ever.

"I need you"

Humming Jungkook squeezed your side, hugging you even closer "I'm here"

You couldn't help but smile through the tears as you felt his warmth. It was moments like these that made you realize how grateful you were to have him in your life.

As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety. “I think it's cause there's like an invisible string attached to us, and whenever I'm hurt, it pulls you closer to me” you explain and he smiles.

"You think so, sugar?" he asks softly

"I know so"

Jungkook's chest tightened at your words, and he felt a warmth spreading through him. He couldn't help but wonder if what he was feeling was more than just "liking"

Was he beginning to fall...in love with you? Looking into your eyes, he knew one thing for sure–he never wanted to let go of the invisible string that connected the two of you.

Day 26 Bonus: Stuckage

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: stuckage kink, reader gets stuck in a window & it has nothing to do with weight or size or whatever and everything to do with Kats being unable to help himself when you find yourself trapped, praise kink, mild degradation, light teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism sorta, daddy kink, nicknames used: princess, baby, & sweetheart, uhh if I missed any lemme know politely pls <3

notes: so..yeah. here’s another Kinktober post. even though it’s August lmao. maybe I’ll finish these by November ajdhdhs I’m sorry. these are all literally sitting in my drafts fully formatted, so I'm not changing them 😂

“Hey, babe?” You call in your sweetest voice to Katsuki, who is not-so-patiently waiting for you to retrieve the set of keys that you were so sure were right here in your bag.

“Yes, baby?” His tone borders on mocking as he stands there with his arms crossed, leaning against the car that he was hoping would’ve been open by now.

“What would you say if—hypothetically—the keys weren’t in my bag aaand I already locked the door on the way outta the house?”

“I would say that’d probably make you look like a pretty big asshole, considering that you swore they were in your bag. Hypothetically,” he adds with a shrug. 

“Yeah..s’pose it would, huh?” You frown and stick your bottom lip out in a pout to answer the heavy sigh that falls from your lover’s lips. 

“You’re not allowed to be in charge of the keys anymore,” he grumbles while strolling back over towards the door to lift up the plant where your spare key should be, but it isn’t there. 

“We, uh..took that in to make an extra copy to give to your parents,” you gently remind him, physically feeling the frustration radiating off of Katsuki. 

He closes his eyes and splays his hand over his face to pinch his temples, dragging his digits together as he rubs them over his eyes. 

“And both of those keys are still sitting on my fuckin’ desk where I left ‘em.” He heaves a sigh and looks at you, shrugging against as his hands settle on his hips. “Whaddya wanna do? Should we call a locksmith?”

“Is this all it takes to put you in full blown dad mode?” You giggle, unable to help yourself as you take in his stance and all too serious demeanor, not that your boyfriend was much of the carefree type anyway. He narrows his eyes, rolling them while his mouth moves in a mocking gesture. 

“It’s daddy to you, princess,” he teases, not-so-lightly swatting your behind and making you yelp as he strolls past you and starts walking around to the side of the house. 

“Hey, wait! Where ya goin’?” You call after him as you scurry along. 

“M’gonna check the back door. Maybe we left it open,” he explains with a shrug. It was doubtful, but worth a shot. 

“Fuck,” he curses, trying the obviously locked back door one more time like it might make a difference. It doesn’t. He tousles his hair and goes to head back to the front of the house. “Locksmith it is, I guess.”

“Wait!” You bounce a little on your feet and he turns around to hear your bright idea. “What about a window? I bet the one in the kitchen is still unlocked. I can climb through it.”

“That could work.” He nods and pivots to head further into the backyard, making his way over to the aforementioned window with you on his heels. 

He grabs the bottom and lifts up and, much to his relief, you were right about it being unlocked. He pushes the window up plenty high enough for you to crawl through and onto the counter that sits below it inside. 

“Alright, c’mere, baby.” He curls his fingers, gesturing for you to come closer before he bends his knee and taps the outside of his thigh. “Grab the sill and step on my leg. I’ll help boost you up.”

You nod and step in front of the window, placing both hands on the windowsill and putting your foot up on his knee to help propel yourself up and through the window. Everything’s going according to plan. Until you lose your footing on his leg trying to give yourself enough of a push to crawl through. That awful feeling of falling washes over you for half a second before his strong hands find your hips, keeping you from falling backwards onto your ass when your feet touch the ground again. 

“Motherfucker,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you take a moment and a breath to collect yourself. “Okay, let—ahh!” 

You’re cut off by the sound of the window closing. Again, thanks to his heroic reflexes and reaction time, you’re spared from injury as he catches the window before it hits you. You breathe a massive sigh of relief, practically wilting in the window, which now you can no longer simply slip back out of. 

“Babe, can you lift it back up, please?” 

“I’m trying,” he mutters. 

“What?”

“I said I’m trying,” he repeats, sounding frustrated, though you know it isn’t aimed at you. It’s aimed at the window that suddenly won’t budge an inch. “Damn thing’s fuckin’ jammed,” he gripes, heaving a sigh before his hands are on you, soothingly rubbing your back. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you reassure him. “I’m fine I just,” you sigh. “Don’t know what to do now. Who the hell do we call for this? I’m not letting the fire department find me this way,” you state as you shake your head and briefly imagine what an interesting interaction that might make for. 

“I’m not either,” he scoffs, his eyes being drawn to your backside, which he had to admit looked especially great with you in this position. 

“Try opening it again. Maybe you loosened it,” you suggest, turning your head to try and look over your shoulder at him, but the angle is rather awkward with how you’re trapped. 

He tilts his head thoughtfully. It couldn’t hurt to try, but it certainly felt pretty well stuck. He leans over you and places his hands beneath the window again, trying in vain to lift it while his crotch presses right up against your backside.

“Are you really getting hard right now?” You can’t help but giggle, wiggling your ass against the bulge that you can feel growing in his pants. 

“You’re bent over in front of me,” he mutters, grunting as he attempts again to shove the window upwards. “And looking pretty vulnerable, I might point out,” he adds with a smirk as he relents his attempts and instead runs his hands along your sides. “How the fuck am I not s’posed to be hard right now?”

His hands seize your hips, bringing you flush against him while he grinds his hips forward, You close your eyes and let out a quiet groan, feeling a pulse between your thighs.

“You wouldn’t take advantage of me in a position like this, would you?” You ask in a sultry tone, no doubt implying that you sincerely hoped that he just might. 

“I wouldn’t say that, princess. You know how much I like seizing opportunities and this one seems too good to pass up.”

“Katsuki,” you whine his name, knowing full well that it makes all the blood in his body redirect to his dick. 

“Fuck, baby,” he gruffs, already feeling his breathing shallow from the pure sense of need that you can still feel pressing into your backside. “You want it that bad, huh? Want me to take you just like this, where any of our nosy fuckin’ neighbors could peek over and see me drillin’ ya?”

“Yes, baby. Don’t just want it. I need it, daddy. Please,” you insist, writhing as much as you can in your compromised position. 

“Shit,” he huffs the curse as he bunches your dress up over your hips, only pulling his hips away from your to appreciate the view. 

He hooks a finger underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs, letting it snap back against your skin while his other palm takes a greedy handful of your ass. 

“Still can’t fuckin’ believe someone as hot as you puts up with me,” he snorts, delivering a swift smack to your cheek before he soothes the ache with his palm. 

“I could say the same,” you reply, shaking your ass and grinning when you hear him groan at the sight, but you’re growing impatient, so you poke at him a little. “Have you even got your dick out yet? I want you so bad, baby..”

“Patience, princess. M’gonna take care of ya. Lemme just look at’cha for a second, yeah?” Both of his hands grope your behind before he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your panties and pulls them aside. “Wanna appreciate all this before I ruin ya.”

His thumb parts your folds and you shiver, juices gushing onto his digit as he snickers. 

“That worked up already, huh? Guess ya really do need me.”

You don’t need to see him to know he’s wearing his signature smug grin. His thumb finds your clit and he begins drawing it in slow circles, making you clutch to the wall inside the house. 

“I do, I do. Please, daddy,” you whine, rocking your hips to chase the friction he offers you. 

It’s gone a second later, but you hear the jingle of his belt coming undone and clench in anticipation while he frees his leaking cock. 

“All this beggin’ sounds real good, baby. Gimme a little more and then you can have this,” he promises, letting you feel his rock hard erection as the head teases through your lips. 

“Please,” you blurt the plea out, instantly complying in order to get what you need. What you crave. “I’ll do anything, baby. Want you inside me. Need you to fuck me. Want you to ruin me, daddy. Take this pussy. S’all yours. Always all yours.”

“Such an overachiever. S’what I love about you, princess,” he chuckles, giving you no notice before he lines up and bottoms out in a single thrust, stuffing you full with his impressive length. 

“Fuck!” 

You claw at the drywall beneath your fingers, pressing your hands to the surface to hang on as he begins to thrust, showing little mercy to your drooling cunt. 

“Goddamn you feel good. You’re really into this, aren’tcha? Like being stuck and lettin’ me use your pussy like I wanna?”

“Y-yeah. Oh fuck, yeah, daddy. U-use me. Oh my God, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

You’re babbling now, too far gone already with the way his cock moves inside you, deliciously dragging along your walls as the tip finds that special, velvety spot inside you and starts knocking into it over and over and over again. 

“M’not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not ‘til you’re creamin’ on my cock. You ain’t gonna last long, are ya? Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight already. Shit.”

“Mm-mm. N-no. Feels too—haa—s’too good, baby.”

And he’s right, of course. That white hot heat burns in your belly, searing you from the inside out as it builds and spreads, spiraling out of control as he continues to snap his hips, offering you no mercy now as you rocket towards your orgasm. 

It hits you like a freight train, making you scream as you slump over the sill of the window, simply trying to hang onto the structure as your cries echo around the empty kitchen. You don’t even notice the way that the window seems heavier on your spine now. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, breathing labored from his efforts as he keeps it up, sprinting towards his own undoing. “So fuckin’ good. Pussy’s too fuckin’ good, baby.”

He doesn’t even falter when he finds his release. If anything, he moves faster, willfully pummeling your poor, abused cunt as he fills you to the brim until the mixture of your essences begin to seep out as your own name falls from his lips, ringing in your ears through the haze you find yourself floating through. He looks down, entranced by the vision of his cum being pulled from and pushed inside of your again and again.

“Fuck,” he pants, sweat dripping from his brow and landing on your exposed lower back. He watches the bead trail along your heated skin to mingle with the rest of the fluids joined between your bodies. 

A whimper is all that you can manage as he withdraws himself and leans over you, a decisively more gentle touch skimming along your sides before he begins rubbing your back and feathering kisses along your spine. 

“You okay, baby?” His tone is as soft as his touch as he restores your modesty, dipping down to return your panties to their rightful place before he reaches for the hem your dress and pulls it back down. 

“Mhm,’ you hum, blissfully content as you continue coming down from your soaring high. 

“Good.” He continues rubbing your back, working up to your shoulders when his hand nudges the window and he realizes that it’s finally budged. “Well, shit,” he chuckles, reaching over you to lift the window up, freeing you from your entrapment. 

“Hmm?” You feel the pressure lift off of your back and step back from the window, shaking your head as a smile graces your features. “Well, I guess that works out.”

“Think you still have the strength to crawl through?” He grins, a little smug and a lot handsome as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he rubs your arm. 

“Gimme a minute.” You laugh quietly, closing your eyes as you wind your arms around his and rest your head upon his broad chest, nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt to inhale his cologne. 

“Take all the time you need, princess. I’m good right here,” he murmurs into your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

likes, comments, & reblogs especially are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

polarity | 04 yandere!jungkook au

pairing: yandere!jungkook x (f) reader

genre: yandere

warnings: 18+ , toxic relationships, unhealthy and obsessive behavior , mentions of mental health, manipulation, blackmail, cheating,

word count: 13.4k

summary: Your best friend’s new boyfriend becomes infatuated with you…

Parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | ❄️CS | 03 JK | 04

Playlist

A/N; Hi babes! I took quite a lengthy break for personal health issues but I’m back! I hope you enjoy this chapter :) ❤️❤️🥰

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you finally had pulled away from Jungkook. The tears were dry on your cheeks now. You stared down at his phone, the screen had finally stopped displaying the crude video and now it was paused, only the thumbnail was just as raunchy. Turning away, you lifted yourself off the floor, clenching your fists. You eyed Eunji’s gift, not being able to stand the sight of it anymore. This time your feet moved at the speed of light, pulling a knife out from the wooden block near the kitchen sink. You saw Jungkook turn his head, quickly coming to his feet when he noticed what you were doing but it was too late, you plunged the knife directly into the leather material.

“Baby,” Jungkook called out, letting out a sigh in defeat when he noticed you were already repeatedly dragging the knife across the expensive purse, completely ripping it apart. Your hands seemed to work on their own, throwing every last bit of your pain into ruining it.

“Enough.” The knife was yanked out of your grip, he placed it on the counter beside you both and took the purse out of your hands, letting it drop to the floor.

“No! None of it is enough!” You cry out, you run your hands over your face and take a deep breath. You needed to calm down, you had to calm down. Jungkook was watching you with careful eyes, as if he was getting ready for you to lunge towards the knife again but you didn’t bother with it anymore. The sight of the purse didn’t heal nearly enough of your broken heart. 

Have you really been so blind? The more you think about it, the more obvious the signs are. Eunji wasn’t newly like this, her behavior didn’t come out of nowhere. Why was your heart and mind so hellbent on convincing yourself that her true character was a surprise? Was she not always like this? You remember all the small instances in that moment, all the seemingly insignificant times she had ignored you or paid little attention to your feelings. Even back in high school, you remembered the times she would spend hanging out with other people and completely leave you out of the equation.

You would never ask for an apology, or even an excuse. You would simply take it as it was. 

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