#i wanna bite him out of pure love he makes me wanna be violent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Make Me! AU

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I��m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Note

For smutty prompts: 97) “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

With Andy or Ransom? Anyone really 😂

Oooookkkkk, this is gonna be Ransom, cause I’ve had a similar idea to this for him for a while now.

What, the OTP again, you say? You guys just keep lining them up for me 😉

Tagging the OTP babes @stargazingfangirl18 @chrissquares @subtlebucky @egcdeath

Send me smutty prompts!!!

Again, 18+ only guys, this is straight up porn!

You had never been more bored in your life.

It was Linda and Richards’ 40th anniversary, and they were throwing a giant party at a fancy hotel in downtown Boston. Of course you had to go, you and Ransom were pretty established now, as much as Linda hated it.

It was literally just a bunch of old money families that Linda was trying to ingrain herself to, bunch of stuffed suits that had nothing better to talk about than summering in the Hamptons or their brand new yachts or whatever the fuck the obscenely rich and out of touch loved to drone on about.

You’d lost track of the number of gin and tonics you consumed an hour ago, keeping yourself glued to Ransom’s side purely because you needed someone to roll your eyes at and he was your only option.

“How you feeling there, sweetheart?” He asked as some ancient man with a name like Chauncey or something finally walked away from you after chatting at you about his damn hunting lodge for what felt like an hour.

“Please kill me.” You whined, running your hand over your face before taking another sip of your drink as he chuckled at you. “Just break your glass and shove the shards into my throat.”

“I thought you were used to talking to rich people?” He said. “Isn’t that all you do at that charity of yours?”

“Those are rich liberals.” You said as you chugged the rest of your drink. “Who also aren’t the best, but at least I don’t have to listen to them complain about environmental regulations the whole time.”

“Well, why don’t we give my parents those super thoughtful gifts you got them then get the fuck out of here?” He said, taking your glass from you.

“Yes, please.” You said grabbing the presents you’d spent way too long on and following him through the crowd.

It didn’t take you long to find Richard and Linda, at the center of a flurry of activity. You waited patiently for them to be free before stepping in front of them, Ransom wrapping a protective hand around your waist.

“Mom, Dad, Y/N and I are gonna head out but we wanted to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary and give you your gifts.” He said, his fingers drumming against your side with nervous energy.

“Yes, happy anniversary you two.” You said, giving them a forced grin as you handed them their presents.

“Oh you can’t leave yet, Ransom.” Linda said, completely ignoring you. “There’s someone here I want you to meet. Muffy!”

Ransom let out a groan as Linda wandered off to grab some uptight looking woman who was about your age but who looked about as bored as you felt. Richard just gave his son a clap on the shoulder and gave you a lecherous grin, before turning to head to the bar.

“Gross.” You muttered before turning back to you boyfriend. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, babe?”

“Yeah, my mom’s been trying to get me to go out with this Muffy chick for months.” He said nervously, loosening his tie around his throat. “I think her parents own a textile conglomerate or something. I thought she would’ve let up once we made it official but I guess not.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before Linda was shoving the poor girl at Ransom and trying to get the two of them to chat, still pointedly ignoring you.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said as he pulled you even closer.

“Hi Muffy, it’s my pleasure.” You said, offering her your hand as you beamed at Linda, who was looking very unhappy. “So sorry to cut this short, but we really do need to get going. Always great to see you, Linda.”

You dragged Ransom away from the crowd by his tie. He made a small sound of surprise when you turned away from the exit and started to head towards the bathroom.

“Babe, the exit’s that way.” He muttered, grinning at you.

You turned around and brought his face to meet yours, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss, running your tongue over his teeth before breaking away and leaving him breathless.

“I know where the exit is, but there’s something I want to take care of first.” You murmured as he rested his forehead against yours. “Now go make sure there’s no one in the bathroom, and I’ll make you come so good baby.”

“Fuck, don’t gotta tell me twice.” He muttered before striding inside.

He was only gone for a few seconds before popping back out and dragging you in after him, picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.

“So...” you murmured as he set you on the counter, his lips moving all over your neck and shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me your mom was trying to set you up with a socialite?”

“Didn’t really seem important.” He muttered against your chest as he slotted himself between your thighs. “It’s not like I was actually gonna do anything with her.”

“Right.” You said as you started to undo his belt.

You removed his belt and started to work on undoing his fly, sighing as he sucked a bruise against your throat. You tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs and wrapped your hand around his cock, making him groan.

“Whose cock is this baby?” You purred as he straightened up to rest his forehead against yours, your grip on his length tightening as he hissed between his teeth.

“Shit, you’re mad.” He mumbled as you squeezed him harder, biting your lip as you watched precum leak from his angry tip.

“Not mad, baby.” You murmured, running your thumb over his slit and making him groan. “Just feel like maybe your need a little reminder. Now tell me whose cock this is.”

“Fuck, it’s your cock.” He moaned as you smeared his precum over your fingers and dragged your hand over his length.

“That’s right baby.” You whispered as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. “All mine. Just like this pretty mouth.”

He hummed as you slipped your fingers into his mouth and continued to draw your hand over his dick. His tongue swirled around your fingers as you pushed them further into his mouth, nudging the back of his throat as you slid off the counter.

“Look at you taking my fingers so good baby.” You cooed at him as you moved to stand behind him, sliding your fingers out of his mouth. “You know what else is mine?”

His breath hitched as you ran your hand over the curve of his ass, teasing your finger around the rim of his puckered hole, your other hand still drawing over his length as you bent him over the counter.

“Fuck, oh my god.” He groaned as you slid your finger inside him, arching his back into your hand.

“Ooh, baby, you are so fucking ready for me aren’t you?” You purred at him as you stretched him open, his cock twitching in your grip. “I own you, Hugh. This is my body, sweetheart, I can play you like a damn fiddle.”

He cried out as you slipped another finger inside him, scissoring them in his pretty hole as you curled over his back and pressed soft kisses against his neck. You shoved them even further inside him until they were nudging his prostate, and he swallowed a scream as your hand moved even faster over his cock.

“Mmm, sing for me pretty boy.” You murmured into his hair. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this. Now cum for me sweetheart.”

You sank your teeth into his neck as you shoved a third finger inside him, your other hand squeezing his cock. Ransom screamed as he came violently, his body rolling underneath you as his cum spurted all over the counter and his pretty hole fluttered around your fingers as he sobbed against the countertop.

“Oh my god!” You heard a sound of disgusted surprise from your left and turned to see Walt and Richard standing there with shock written all over their faces.

You stood up and grinned at the two of them as you pulled your fingers out of Ransom and unwrapped your other hand from his cock, smacking his ass hard and making him yelp as he panted against the counter.

“Hey there boys!” You beamed at them, Ransom finally coming back to himself and straightening up, avoiding making eye contact with his father and uncle as he pulled his slacks back up and tucked himself in. “Richard, please tell your wife to stop shoving WASP bitches at my boyfriend.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: This ended up being super long, whoops! But hey, sub!Ransom guys!

#natalie answers #smut prompts #chris evans #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom x you #ransom smut #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #dom!reader

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hollandsmoose · 3 years

Text

the way home

A/N: This was just supposed to be a tiny blurb, but once I got started, I just couldn't shut up again. So here you go, my loves, here's 1.6k of pure friends-to-lovers fluff!

—————

You should have brought a jacket. You realize that the second you step out of the pub, Tom a few meters ahead of you and therefore unable to see the way you shudder when the cool air hits your skin.

It's just a short walk home from the pub, you'd told yourself, I don't need a jacket. God, you'd been wrong. Curse your past self for not trusting your instincts. It may be mid-July, and it may have been pretty warm when you left your flat earlier, but you should've known better than to not bring a jacket on a night out. You really should have learned not to trust the English weather by now. Tom doesn't seem to be struggling with the weather as he turns around to face you, but that makes sense. He's got a nice, pretty thick denim jacket on, and here you are, bare arms exposed to the elements.

"You ready to go?" Tom asks, nodding in the general direction of your flat. When you give him a nod back, he grins and offers you his arm. "Lead the way, miss." You can't help but giggle, your cheeks warming as you close the distance between the two of you and accept his offer.

"What a gentleman," you tease him, trying to ignore how mushy holding his arm like this makes you feel. As you start walking, you gently nudge him with your shoulder, making him look at you curiously. "Thanks for walking me home, Tom."

He merely shrugs, a small smile on his lips. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just making sure you get home alright,"

You squeeze his bicep. "Well, it still means a lot,"

It's not that this is the first time he's walked you back to your place from the pub after a night out together, but, usually, it's been somewhat of a group effort. Tom and the other boys, his housemates who you're lucky enough to call your friends too, would normally walk you home together, but, tonight, Tuwaine, Harry and Harrison seemed like they were only just getting started by the time you were ready to leave. So Tom had very kindly suggested that he could walk you home himself, and the lads had whistled and cheered at that - like the idiots they are. You told them off and called them dickheads, but there was no denying that your mind had gone to a similar place for a second too. It was just wishful thinking, though.

Tom is your friend. Just your friend. And yes, perhaps he's a friend you've been hopelessly in love with for months now, yet he's still just a friend. And yes, he calls you 'darling' and flirts with you, and he calls you when he's abroad, just so he can hear your voice, but that's just how he's always been with you. That's just how he is, really. It doesn't have to mean anything.

You haven't got very far when the cold begins to really affect you, every small gust of wind feeling like a thousand tiny icicles stabbing your skin. Granted, basically being snuggled up to Tom helps, his body quite warm, but it's not enough. So you can't help it when a violent shiver runs through you, making you hiss. Tom immediately stops dead in his tracks, unlinking your arms, and you're just about to ask him what he's doing when he gives you the answer without saying a word. He slips off his jacket and holds it out in front of you, and when you realize what he's implying, you have to protest.

"Oh, no, no," you say, shaking your head adamantly. "You'll get cold!"

"Well, you're already cold!" he argues and chuckles at the way you scoff at that. "And besides, I'd rather be cold than be an arsehole."

You know there's no point in trying to deny him. You know Tom, and you know he won't budge. So, with a sigh, you turn around and let him drape his jacket over your shoulders. A warmth spreads in your body, and you know it's not just from the extra layer. The jacket even smells like him - that sweet mixture of his cologne and the shower gel he uses.

He smirks as you face him again, giving you a once-over. "You always look great in my clothes," That's all he says before offering you his arm again, and, absolutely fucking dumbfounded, you just take it. God, you complain to yourself, why must he say shit like that? Can't he see what it does to me?

Tom doesn't seem to notice, however, happily chatting away about something that happened on one of his walks with Tessa. You do notice how he seems to pull you even closer to him, though. It's just because he's cold. That's what you tell yourself. But then he pulls you so close that you're completely pressed against his side, and it just feels… different.

You look around, acutely aware that anyone could see you like this, but the streets seem fairly empty, save for a few late-night joggers and dog walkers. So you let yourself relax into Tom, enjoying how it feels to be with him like this. You can't keep yourself from imagining how it would feel to be like this forever.

It's not something you get to fantasize about for a long time, though. Because then you turn the corner onto your street, and you know your time with him tonight is running out. You hate that you'll have to let him go, your two bodies having basically melted together at this point. And when you reach your house, you almost whine as Tom disentangles the two of you. But, even then, he doesn't really let go of you, taking your hand in his. You feel the heat creeping into your cheeks when he steps a little closer to you, and you gulp as he squeezes your hand.

"I've missed you, darling," Tom tells you, exhaling shakily. "More than I think you know."

"I've missed you too, Tom," you reply, trying not to think too much about what he just said, but his words are already haunting you. "Probably more than you've missed me."

You don't know why you say that. The words just fall out of your mouth, your filter seemingly gone. His brows draw together in confusion as he takes in your answer, and then he shakes his head gently. When he releases your hand, you feel like you've really fucked up.

He tilts his head slightly. "What makes you say that?"

You shrug, willing away the tears forming in your eyes. "I don't know,"

"It's okay,"

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be," Tom assures you, smiling softly. "But you're wrong," His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and when his eyes flicker down to your lips, it's like it really dawns on you what he's trying to say. "Because I've missed you so... so…" He leans in a little until his breath is intermingling with your own, and you're trembling in anticipation, your eyes half-lidded. "Much." As soon as Tom finishes talking, he closes the distance, and then his mouth is on yours.

You're not surprised, but you are a bit stunned - everything you've dreamed about seemingly coming true. And for just a second, you find yourself worrying that this is just a dream; that none of this is real. But it is. His scent filling your nose is real. The touch of his hand on your face is real. His kiss is real.

And then you throw yourself into it, your hands settling on his chest and your fingers grabbing the fabric of his shirt quite desperately. Tom sighs, contented, his one arm wrapping around you as he presses his lips to yours again, far less hesitant this time. There's no stopping the soft gasp that leaves you then.

It feels like your bodies can't possibly get any closer, yet you still find new ways to melt into one another. Your tongues begin to explore each other, and your hands start to do the same to each other's bodies. You can scarcely breathe, but you can't bear the thought of parting with his kiss. And if worse comes to worst, death by kissing seems like a pretty good way to go.

You arch into Tom when his hands travel down your back, and the movement knocks off his jacket that had been draped over your shoulders. You barely sense it, but there's an audible thud as it lands on the pavement behind you. That, you can't help but notice.

He chases your lips as you pull away, but he doesn't protest against the separation. You're both breathing as though you've just run a fucking marathon, and you can't even get out a few simple words to tell him what happened. You just loosely gesture to the jacket on the ground, a sight that makes Tom giggle.

He's the one who picks it up, and you're kind of expecting him to put it on again. He probably has to get back to the lads at the pub, you lament to yourself. But Tom doesn't move. He just stands there and looks at you, eyes dark as he takes you in. He's kissed you into a complete mess, and you're sure you must look like one too.

"I should get back to the pub," he says, but Tom still doesn't move. The grin on his face is more than enough proof to you that he doesn't want to go anywhere. "Unless… unless you want me to stay?" You know what he's really asking. And you do want that, of course, but you still pretend like you actually have to think about it for a few minutes, biting your lip as in thought. You give him a nod.

"I do. But on one condition," you bargain, smirking mischievously, and his eyes light up. "You have to kiss me like that again." And that's an offer he can't refuse.

—————

taglist: @spideycents @linanilssonfurberg @to-the-road

(hit me up if you wanna be on the taglist!)

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #thomas stanley holland

393 notes · View notes

hopeandvolleyball · 3 years

Note

You can make a part 2 of when you break up with iwaizumi, akaashi???

when you move on pt 1

sequel to

genre: pure angst. pure, pure angst. fem!reader

w/ iwaizumi and akaashi

an- thanks for the request, lovely <3, also if you meant for it to be another breakup scenario oopsies but feel free to drop another ask and tell me :) thank you

iwaizumi hajime

word had been buzzing around the entire court about morisuke yaku’s new girlfriend, not that hajime really was paying attention. he heard it through the grapevine and same about her visit today but that wasn’t a part of his job. he was here to help train and make sure the boys didn’t do anything to hurt themselves.

he was looking down at sakusa’s training routine during a break, thinking of new updates for his improvements when the door opened to the gym. he noticed the door open but didn’t do anything. most of the team burst into several questions.

“nice to see you princess.” “hi are you mori-kun’s girlfriend!” “please ignore them” “hi! i’m bokuto!” “it’s pleasant to meet you.” “you’re pretty. sure you wanna be datin’ morisuke?” “i’ll break your kneecaps, miya.”

at the commotion, hajime looked up at the group.

he felt like it had been years since he had seen you. it felt like an eternity since he had seen those eyes, and the consistent stars that swam within them and suddenly hajime forgot to swim. he didn’t remember how. if he could drown within those eyes he would have. his stomach began to twist violently and he felt the pang of guilt stabbing him. he remembered the night you separated, vividly. the arguments about how he never made time for you, him telling you to leave, and then you walking out of his life and never returning. until now. the core of the argument was how he never made the time for you, something yaku clearly could have done since you were here to visit during break. hajime watched how yaku held you, hand on the small of your back a motion that said he got you, he was here for you. it was the way hajime used to hold you. and now he would never get the chance to hold you that way again. it hurt more than he could have imagined.

not as much as you looking up and into his eyes.

you pardoned yourself from yaku and walked over to him. his breath got caught in his throat as you approached the bench he was sitting on.

“hi,” you greeted, sitting beside him.

“hi.” was his choked response. silent.

“it would have been weird to avoid you.”

“i know.” another silence. hajime took a breath. he needed to bite the bullet. “so. yakkun, huh?” he asked with a pain smile. at the thought of your new boyfriend you smiled so very softly. and that killed him. “when did that happen?”

“well, actually, we met the night we broke up,” you admitted, looking into your lap. a fire grew in iwaizumi’s chest. “i went to that late night coffee place and got-”

“an americano,” iwaizumi interrupted and you nodded. he still remembered.

“and he was there to comfort me. i didn’t want another relationship after we broke up. i wasn’t ready for a commitment like that. we were engaged, hajime. it wasn’t like i was outwardly looking for a replacement. so yaku and i were friends for a really long time,” you looked up at morisuke with the softest of smiles once reserved for him. you leaned into your palm watching yaku’s interactions with atsumu. “but he loved me at my worst and i realized that’s all i wanted. whenever i was hurting and needed him he was there. always. he made the time for me and that meant more than i could have ever imagined.” and it was something hajime couldn’t give you. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didnt want to say it. he gripped his sweatpants and willed himself not to cry.

“y/n. i still love you.” he admitted. “that night was a mistake and i never got to correct it i’m so sorry.”

“you don’t get to love me, hajime,” you responded, voice not faltering once. your eyes were trained on yaku as if you were born to only look at and love him. “i wish you nothing but the best, hajime. and if you ever loved me at all you’d wish the same for me and mori.”

akaashi keiji

truth is, after his breakup with you akaashi never moved on. he was more focused on his career and everything.

he spent most of his time at onigiri miya, it provided him a good place to work and reminded him to eat, something you were always nagging him to do.

not only this, he ended up with a good friend at the end of the day with owner of the shop, osamu.

“you look like you’re itching to get out of here,” keiji chuckled at osamu’s behavior, he continued to look at the clock. osamu blinked, a blush dusting at his cheeks at the commentary. “what’s the occasion.”

“six month anniversary,” osamu admitted with a sheepish smile. keiji blinked, only able to respond with a soft oh. “yeah i didn’t want to tell ya. i know ya’ve never really moved on from yer last girl and i didn’t want to rub my relationship in yer face.” akaashi held up his hand and shook his head.

“no no,” he responded with a broken smile. “it’s fine. i’m not going to be one to negate your happiness. besides. it’s been almost a year. i should have gotten over it by now.” but he hasn’t, and that was the root of the onigiri twin’s message, and he knew that. in truth akaashi has never gotten over you. your ghost haunts his apartment, taunting him at every turn reminding him of what was.

the night you walked out of his apartment for good it gave him a lot of time and silence to reflect on his relationship. things he didn’t like. he knew you were right. his business was no excuse to neglect you. him consistently playing the devils advocate when you were hurting wasn’t right. but it was too late for him. you were gone. many times he had thought of trying to find you with his tail between his legs and begging for your forgiveness. but he couldn’t do that. you couldn’t forget all he’s done, and he knew. by begging for you back he was negating your growth. but he missed you. so very much. he always made you feel like you were the bad guy in your relationship. but that wasn’t it. he was.

akaashi’s ears perked up at the sound of the front doors opening. then at osamu’s soft expression at who walked in the door.

“there’s my buttercup,” osamu sighed. akaashi, out of pure curiosity, turned around to see his partner only to have his heart shattered.

you. of all people osamu miya could have courted why did it have to be you. in all fairness keiji never told osamu that you were the other half of the terrible breakup he went through and he couldn’t be mad at you for moving on and finding the love you deserve. but it still hurt. he did love you so very much and now he got the confirmation you didn’t love him anymore. your love belonged to osamu. and he could never get that back.

you hadn’t noticed keiji yet. you leaned over the counter to press the softest of kisses to his lips while he went to the back to clock out. someone else would lock up. this gave you the time to look over and see akaashi. you blinked and wanted to turn your head away from him but couldn’t.

“keiji.”

“hi.” akaashi greeted with a small smile. “congratulations on your anniversary,” he commented, putting his laptop in his bag.

“thank you,” you nodded. “i’m. i’m sorry for how everything ended. i wish it could have been more dignified than that.”

“no need. i’m the one who messed up our relationship. i realized that a long time ago.” akaashi looked to the back of the shop at the door where osamu walked into. “he’ll treat you well. at least i can rest easy knowing that.”

“hm?”

“i’m still in love with you. and i think i may always will be. you’re like a dying star, loud, explosive, beautiful where the ashes can be turned into something more. and yet i’ll still be able to see the beauty that was from earth and i will for a long time because. anyway, that didn’t make much sense. goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you around.” with that, akaashi walked out of onigiri miya.

#iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #akakasvx

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie @gotham-city-uber-driver @gildedstarlight @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney @trubluepensfan @beachwoodmonet if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center.

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic.

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper.

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake.

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips.

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”

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myfeetkeepdancing · 3 years

Photo

"You're going with it?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I do." Tom giggled charmingly. "I like it." Checking out his outfit. Once again, no pants and white socks. Topped off with this fashionable black suit. "Keeps my temperature just about right." Trying to justify his pantless outfit while pushing the last folds out. "Warm suit, cool legs. It's just… right." He smiles fondly, enjoying his decision.

"I clearly remember from last time you were all hot and bothered at the end." Shifting in your seat. "And that only in a space of… thirty to forty seconds." His mouth gasped open as if this revelation was utterly based on lies. "It showed. Big time."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"Well, a face as red as a tomato, I sure won't forget."

"What do you think?!" He stands up, approaching you, leaning in for that sweet kiss. "I had you-…"

"Careful, darling." You interrupt and flinch back on purpose, Tom hovering inches away from your lips. Holding the pitcher of water in between the two of you. "Don't wanna spill this-...." You grin. "All over those pretty legs... and black boxer shorts." Stealing a quick kiss on his lips. "Wouldn't want you showing on camera covered in wet spots."

"Then you better hold on tight." He jests and pushes on. Pressing his lips onto yours with more force than usual. His hands grabbing the backrest of your chair. Turning his kiss more violent and heavy. You feel like he'd push you off the chair with this intensity. While you fought to stay balanced. Both hands on the pitcher. Careful not to spill anything.

"I had you…" He continued, despite having his lips occupied with yours. "-you… watching me... teasing me..." Pushing you furthermore onto the chair. It sat so uncomfortable, but now even more. Finding your balance. While also trying to listen to Tom. And that kiss, so passionate and fierce, that even breathing became a task worthy of your attention. Each word he spoke, he'd give you a breather, pulling back. Utter a few well-placed words. You were literally hanging onto his lips. "Darling, you're more… than a pretty distraction.

"You know what they say." You mumble in the kiss. Noses nuzzled together. As he slowed down, finally allowing you to speak. His smile radiating against yours. "Right...?"

"It's about my legs." He says, taking back. Giving you a moment of respite. "Or my crotch?" Staring at you with squinted eyes. "Which one is it?" He keeps going. "You think I should put some pants on...?" He looked to the side, struck by indifference. "Is it fashion, though?" You wonder for a moment if you let him ramble. What path this would lead.

"Joe Russo-…" You whisper, grabbing his attention immediately. "-has better thighs than you." Biting your lower lip, trying hard to contain your laughter.

"For real?" He pulls back just as you're going in for the second round of kisses. "Are you joking?" Trying to act as if he feels offended. "It's about the pitcher…" Crossing his arms. "Isn't it?" Waiting for your reaction. "Am I right?"

"I had no hand in this, Tom." Shrugging your shoulders. "Your thighs are trending, and the people have spoken. It's universally agreed upon that Joe has better thighs than you."

"I can't…. I can't believe it." Tom's expression was priceless. His expression switched from dumbstruck to disbelief, to stunned and back again. All in a matter of seconds. Staring off to the side. Eyes glazing over for a moment. "Guess I'll… I'll wear pants then..." Sounding slightly disappointed.

"Though, I can say I had a hand on this." You chuckle, patting the bare naked skin of his thigh. Just as he was about to head for his pants. Which he had found in the end. Tom being chaos incarnate himself, always loses things. Even if he packed it himself.

"And you liked it." He smiled with this smug expression. Tom being more than pleased with himself being able to find a victory in this derailed conversation. Slipping on his tailored pants, all black, and matching.

"True. But I never had Joe's… so..." You taunt, eyeing the entirety of the suit. "Difficult one."

"You're unbearable today." Leaning in for a kiss as the call came in.

"Handsome." You add on. "Unbearably handsome." Fighting to keep the kiss going with all the giggles and laughter in between.

"Don't go stealing my title, love."

"Give your waterboy some credit."

"Don't... don't say that." He pouts his lips. "Because I had a little argument-"

"Fallout, you mean." Tom averted his gaze as he knew very well it was his fault. His temper did play a hefty part in it. He sure wasn't proud of it. Especially since one of his brothers was on the receiving end. "You and your tempers." You shake your head like a judgmental parent. "Now you have to deal with me again."

"Thank you for doing this." Trying to brush away his feelings of guilt. Charging in for a simple exchange of kisses again.

"You told me to."

"I didn't say that!" He smiled. "At least… not in those words."

"I could have been hitting the bar by now."

"I know… Don't make me feel all guilty, love. What is it you want?" Slowly peeling himself off of you. Feeling the heat of the call still ringing behind him. "Another deal?" Nonetheless, kissing you back. "Just like last time..."

"You know what I want.” You moan into the kiss. Not many more words needed to spilled about it. The though alone made Tom’s lips shudder against yours. You can’t help but grin. “How about some credit, Tom." You mumble after his departing lips. "Credit where credit is due." Taking him by surprise.

"Shit…" Tom cursed while looking back at his laptop, giggling as his thoughts were elsewhere occupied. The call went unanswered, turning everything quiet again. Except for both of your racing heart. "Probably Jimmy's assistant."

"Tommy…" You try to catch his attention again, with your hand on his cheek. Pulling his eyes and lips back to you. "You heard me."

"Yeah, Yeah." He giggled while his smile grew in size. "I heard you." The way he averted his gaze from yours sure told you he was trying to think a way out of it. "I'll think about it." Pecking a quick kiss to your forehead. "I will."

"Say it, Tom." You urge on. "Or I undress right here, right now..."

"Usually, I'd help you." He smirked with this expression of pure mischief. "But now. Please don't. Not now."

"Please, do remind me."

"You know you're more than a pretty distraction." He giggled, taking your cheeks in his hands. Feeling all warm and soft. Just like his lips. Welcoming and soothing to the touch.

"Time to choose." The second call came. Making Tom veer back up. "If you're not going to say it… then I at least want you to show it."

Tom shook his head, smile stretching. "I'll say it again..." His hand hovered across the pad of his laptop. "You're-"

"Just pick up, Tom." You break him off mid-sentence. "And keep that temper of yours in check. Jimmy Fallon is waiting." Prodding him into his side just as he was about to answer. "And you fix this with Harry!" Going from prodding to tickling. The other hand unable to keep the pitcher leveled, spilling the water on you.

Tom's eyes widened seeing you rise from the chair, ditching the pitcher on the table beside you. Immediately lifting his finger from the pad. Freezing on the spot.

"Promise me, Tom…" Hooking your finger in the band of his pants. Pulling him flat against you. His fingers slipping between your pants, feeling your hips and hovering your lips inches apart from each other. Both sucking a nervous breath.

"I… I have to take this call." He stammered, sucking on his lips. Tom's eyes always darted up and down, taking you in, mentally undressing you. While his fingers caress and feel the curves of your body.

"Tom…" Kissing him slow and passionate. Letting your fingers find the buttons of his pants. "Apologize to Harry..." And he lets you. Loosening the belt, feeling the tension of the fabric loosen. Hooking your fingers in, careful not to bring his shorts with. And slowly start pulling them down.

"I will..." He whispered, watching you discarding his pants before leading you back to the chair. You were so caught up in each other. If there weren't a call still going in the background, there for sure had happened something way more exciting. Almost missing the ongoing call. "I promise. I will…" Kissing you a final time. "You bastard..." He smirked. "I'll get you."

"I'm sure you will." Watching him recover and get back over his laptop. "I'm sure…" Taking in the new pantless Tom. "So, no deal this time around?"

"You drive me crazy!" The call still going. Tom starting to panic slightly.

"I know." You smile. "And you know I can still undress here?"

"Don't!" He shot back. "This interview is way too long for that."

"Is that Rolex watertight by the way?"

He sneaked a glance at his watch as if he was going to read the number right of the surface. "Yeah, I believe it's up to-..." He looked up at you, eyes widened and a look of terror followed by a smile of mischief. "No (Y/N)..." He started shaking his head. "No-No-No! No! Don't you th-... Don't!" Holding out a hand towards you. "I got plenty more shots with this suit."

"Credit where credit is due, Tom. Or… you show your legs. Full into frame." Slowly swirling the water in the pitcher as a way of threatening him. "Proof your thighs are superior to Joe's."

"So… you... do think they're superior?" A smug little smile spreading across his face as he sits himself in front of the laptop. "Just admit it." Rising back to his feet again. "I mean..." Taking a step back and planting his feet on the chair. Showing the beautiful shape of his leg. "-look at it."

"God, Tom… If you keep going like this, you're not going to make it to this interview. I swear..." Feeling the rush of heat shooting through. Throwing some water across your face from the pitcher. Tom looking all pleased with himself. "Now shield your crotch-..." Giving him a wink. "...-and don't forget to flex those muscles. Make me proud."

#tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland male!reader #male!reader #male reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland #mlm

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starconsumer444 · 3 years

Text

“You’ll Love Me in the Morning”

(Miya Atsumu 18+)

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s based off this guy I knew who was a pain in the ass to deal with and I was sure he’d kill me. He didn’t though, so now this exists. Full circle, yeah?

(CW/TW: Yandere!Atsumu, [I don’t like that term for this, but it describes it well enough, I suppose???], Incel!Atsumu [??????], Non-con, Sadism, Crying, Recording, Kidnapping, A dash of Misogyny, Spitting, Slapping, Punching, Kicking, Fighting, Strangulation, Borderline snuff [but no actual death], Mind-break???, Name-Calling, !!THIS IS FUCKED UP!!, Bad proofreading but I tried my best<3, please tell me if there’s a mistake somewhere.)

Atsumu is a demented heathen and you finally have to face what you’ve picked up on for so long. This isn’t shocking. You told everyone he was weird. Why didn't they believe you?

You thrash violently against his hold as he drags you back to his bedroom by your hair. His grip is strong and unwavering. You throw punches at his arms and try to dig your heels into the ground, that only earns you a harsh tug forward.

“You fucking weirdo! Let me go!” You yell at him but he doesn’t even spare a glance over his shoulder to be face to face with your indignation.

You start to fight even harder, with more fury when he grabs the door handle to his room. You know you don’t want to go back in there and you fear you’ll never come back out if you do. You dig your nails into his forearm as you kick at his legs. You're screaming your lungs out, hoping to god that someone hears you and comes to your rescue.

Where does that get you? Nowhere.

It takes the athlete so little effort to throw your struggling body to the floor of his room and slam the door behind himself. For a second, the fight’s knocked right out of you and you're silent as you see his menacing figure loom over you.

The expression on your face is that of a deer in headlights— Atsumu can’t help but feel a little pleased and sadistic.

He looks amused, like this is all a game to him. He wears that same cocky smirk, but his eye’s are no longer gentle, there’s a darkness behind them that you know for a fact you would've picked up on had it been there before.

Why did you agree to come here?

“I want to go home, Atsumu.” You declare sternly as you get back to your feet and meet his eyes. Really though, you don’t think you can keep this facade up. Your heart is beating out of your chest and the only thing keeping you on your feet and not shaking about is will power. “Where are my clothes?” There’s demand in your voice, but you’re sure even Atsumu can hear it waver.

“Come on, baby,” He steps toward you and for every one of his steps forward you take one step back. Soon enough you're pressed up against his wooden bed frame. “Just be good for the camera.”

You eye it, the red light signaling that its recording from on top of his tv stand across thee room.

“No!” You push at his chest. It’s pure muscle. Even through the fabric of his black shirt you can feel it. You can’t fight him, but you’re not going to give up.

“Why not?” His voice is honeyed. He lifts your head by your chin and lets his thumb run over your bottom lip. His eyes meet yours and they’re filled with feigned compassion, like he hadn’t just thrown you to the floor. “I’ve been so nice to you.”

“Because I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here anymore.” You were supposed to be hanging out but you woke up with your clothes gone and hidden away. “Atsumu, I rejected you. Why don’t you get it?” You stare daggers right back into his brown eyes, but he just chuckles and harshly presses his lips to yours.

Your hands hastily grab onto the fabric of his shirt as you fall back onto his bed, his lips not leaving yours for a second. His large frame traps you under him. Your hands are flat against his chest as you try to push him off. It’s useless, you feel him smile against your lips as he uses one hand to grab both of your wrists and hold them away from himself. Quickly enough, your legs come up to kick at him. It’s doesn’t last very long. You whimper into his lips as a strong hand comes down to slap your thigh. It stings like hell and has you relenting immediately.

“Kiss me back.” He demands breathily, only parting for a second to look you in the eye and tell you what to do.

Needless to say, you refuse.

That only has him sitting up, and slapping you silly when you don't comply.

He holds your arms firmly and whales on you. He’s saying something about you being a “disrespectful and unappreciative bitch”. You can barely hear him—not over your small whines as you try to turn your head and wriggle away from him. He slaps you about ten times before he stops.

He lets you go— moves off of you, and you hastily move to the headboard. Maybe if you don’t actually try to run he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Atsumu-”

“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” Even if you weren’t looking each other dead in the eyes the smile he wore would be more than obvious in his voice.

There you go with that deer in headlights look again like you’re the victim, he thinks to himself. He’s the one with the broken heart; not you.

He moves himself closer to you, officially giving you no where to go or run to. He’s right between your legs when he leans forward to kiss you again. You still don’t reciprocate.

“Yer bein’ difficult,” He scolds, lacing his hand in your hair and yanking you to the side. Your heads cocked uncomfortably but you still keep your eyes on him.

“Please let me go.” Your voice isn’t strong anymore more, you’re practically begging.

You don’t even see it because you flinch when he does it but you feel it. His spit lands, frothy, thick and disgusting on your cheek.

“Stop asking that shit, yer not goin’ anywhere.” Your body tenses. Your hands come to your chest, almost curling in on yourself, when you feel his hand strike your tits— each once, individually. “Say you love me.” He yanks your hair again.

He pinches your thigh when you don’t respond quickly enough.

You just jerk away from the feeling.

Your first tear falls upon the realization that you’re not getting out of this and they seemingly never stop coming afterwards.

He lets go of your hair and your first move is to try to run away from him. You make it barely past his shoulder when he slams you down onto his mattress again. Your head bumps into the headboard on the way down, but he pays that no mind.

The struggle is violent, you’re scratching him like a wild animal and none of your kicks land solidly on any part of him. He slaps and punches you several times telling you to knock it off, but not once do you relent. He ends up with his palm flat against your face pressing you down firmly into the mattress as he pulls his sweats and boxers down and positions himself at your entrance.

You feel the head of his dick smooth right between your folds and you feel the wetness of his precum spread along with it. For the first time, your hit lands solid. You slap him across the face and bite his palm.

The only thing you see is his displeased face before your world is made a spinning blur by his fist meeting with the side of your head, it’s filled with way more violence than the last few times. Then he lands one of your stomach and it knocks the air out of you right before he guides himself into you.

You try to scream, but the sounds not there. It feels like he is tearing you apart from the inside. You twist in agony and you can hear him laughing at you. Then he moves himself and the pace is brutal. He wants you to hurt, he doesn't have to say it.

His calloused hands wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly. You're going to die; Atsumu is going to kill you.

You flounder beneath him but he pays it no mind. Moans spill from his lips like he’s enjoying himself.

“Baby, I’ve wanted this for so long,” He looks you dead in the eyes with that cruel smile. “But you don’t know how to give men what they want, do you?” Your mouth hangs open when you try to gasp for air— he takes the opportunity to spit right onto your tongue. “Been so nice for so long, but incompetent bitches like you wanna play hard to get. Hate that shit.” His grip on your throat loosens for a second; you manage to get a little air right before he tightens both hands right back again.

Now it feels like he’s trying to ram his dick right past your cervix. Bug eyed and terrified, you shake your head. It hurts so fucking bad.

“Yer bleedin’, ya know?” It’s a low chuckle. When he looks down to see where your bodies meet, then looks back up at you, he smiles. “Sluts like you deserve it. Pussy’s gunna be destroyed for anyone else who tries to use it.” His grip is now impossibly tight and you’re sure this is it. You’re sure he’s going to kill you.

This is no way to go. You don’t want to die like this, with Atsumu violating you and your lungs burning. You kick at his sides and its weak along with your slaps to his forearms and scratches at his face. Still, his skin is marked red and on the verge of bleeding in some areas.

You're coughing and trying to sit up but he slams you back down by your neck. Drool starts to fall from the corner of your mouth and you want to beg him but you can’t. Your hands squeeze at his forearm, trying to appeal to his better nature.

He just calls you a weak little bitch. “Should learn to smile for the camera, yer gonna be my little snuff star soon.” He beams. You squeeze his arm even harder, the pads of your fingers are sure to leave bruises.

As your tunnel vision starts to kick in he lets go and shoves two of his fingers into your mouth. You choke around them as you try to catch your breath.

Your body’s limp and you’re not fighting him anymore, you’re just coughing viciously around his fingers as the worlds color comes back to you.

“Stop cryin’” He reprimands as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth to slap you. The delivery is as rough as ever but you’re too dazed to register it fully; you just let out a painful mewl. You hadn’t even realized you were still crying, but it’s even worse now. You feel the snot pooling around your upper lip. “Yer not fuckin’ dead. What the fuck are you still doing that for.”

Your chest feels heavy as you stop coughing and gasp for air. Your throat hurts, your strength is gone, but you’re alive and sure there’s a god. There has to be, you were sure Atsumu would kill you. Still, Atsumu is ramming himself right into your cervix like he’s going to magically break past it.

You muster up just enough strength to pull your self away from it with your elbows, but he pulls you back down onto it and holds you by your waist. You can feel the wetness of his fingers covered in your spit pressed against your skin. You sob out hoarsely, but there's little sound and he smirks.

Your hand viciously taps at his shoulder and you shake your head; tears are still falling. You try to tell him that it hurts, but when you open your mouth to speak, “hur-” is all you manage before your sound is gone and your throat aches. He’s destroyed you.

He gets the message.

“I don’t care if it hurts.” He furrows his brows. “Fucking me is a privilege and you’ll like whatever I give you.” Right when he says that his rhythm falters and he starts to loose himself in the pleasure of being wrapped in your heat.

“Fuck, ahhh-” He moans out, head coming down into your neck. His lips press against you in a wet kiss and you can feel the heat of his breath against you. “Should get you pregnant, it’s not like you’re goin’ anywhere.” He says before he bites into your shoulder and cums inside you with a guttural moan. Your back arches off the mattress and you feel his palm flatten against your stomach between you and him before he forcefully pushes you back down.

Atsumu doesn't know what he’ll do with you or the video quite yet. He lays on top of you panting heavily and in deep thought.

He could keep you? Yeah, he’ll keep you. He could post the video? No, that’s for him to watch and show you when you piss him off.

He’s going to make your life hell from now on until you learn to love him.

“Say you love me.”

“I love you.”

#yandere miya atsumu #yandere atsumu #yandere haikyuu #atsumu smut #astumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #this boy still haunts my nightmares and its been years #guess its kinda funny now tho #fearing for my life in the presence of a man...#he could've at LEAST been attractive #but I'll spare you all the details

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tojismaiden · 3 years

Text

SNK Male Characters as Yandere's (Modern AU)

WARNING: will contain dark themes.

Eren the Violent

It's a known fact that Eren doesn't have the best temper in the world.

But for you, he'd try his best to be patient. Key word: Try.

When Eren saw you, you were like the light at the end of the tunnel. The rainbow after the rain. The finish line. The trophy. The angel that every devil sought after.

You were kind to almost everybody but you were also fearless when you need to be. You helped everyone that you could and that included Eren. He got into another fight? You'd patch him up. He's lashing out on someone again? You'd calm him down. Everytime he needed someone, you were there.

So who could possibly blame him for falling for you? For wanting you?

At first, it was just an innocent crush he had on you. But days passed and he found himself growing more agitated. You were just too good, too pure. Eren knew that deep down, he had to have you. He's lost so much in his life, he can't lose you too.

So when the time came that he confessed, imagine his surprised and embarrassment when you told him you were with someone else. Of course, Eren being Eren, he'd pretend it's nothing and carry on with his day.

You thought none of it of course and kept treating Eren as how you saw him as; a friend.

Eren isn't the most patient man in the world, and neither is he the most calm one.

So please don't be surprised if you find your s/o brutally murdered.

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry about your partner. I heard what happened. Such a shame, really."

"It's okay, Eren... I just— I just don't understand. Who would do something like this?"

"I don't know. But whoever it was, the person may not have liked your partner at all. In fact, that person might have hated them."

Your partner's death saddened you immensely but you were thankful that Eren was with you as you grieved. However, the more you spent time with Eren, the more concerned your friends got. They had bad vibes with him.

And Eren felt they don't particularly like him.

So the next time you see a news about an unknown killer going around?

Ignore it.

Your friends falling as victims of the said killer? Ignore it.

After all, Eren did it for you. So you could be together.

Forever.

Armin the Manipulative

There's no denying that Armin is smart. Way too fucking smart.

He would top in his classes and everyone came to him whenever they needed help with their homework.

But what exactly did Armin like about you? Simple. It's your sincerity.

Sure, he has friends and sure, his classmates would thank him whenever he helped them but with you, Armin could really feel like you learned something from him. It wasn't like the usual where the other would get the answers to their questions but obtained nothing from his explanation.

With you, you really applied what he taught you.

And Armin felt... appreciated. Like he wasn't being used to people's advantages.

So ever since then, Armin would willingly help you. Even offering to tutor you privately, free of charge! And each time you two spent time together, Armin's feelings for you grew stronger. The stronger they got, the more he got slightly too infatuated with you.

Weekly tutors turned into everyday tutors to the point where Armin would even tutor you during the weekend!

But who were you to say no? You were so thankful. If it weren't for Armin, you might have backloaded a subject or worse, repeated a grade!

You barely had time for your friends anymore but Armin assured you that it's better this way. That it's better if you prioritized your study sessions with him because your friends would just distract you.

And hey, come to think of it. Weren't they the reason you slept so late the last few weeks and almost made you miss an exam?

However, as busy as you are, you somehow found yourself in a situation where you got into a date with someone. An upperclassmen one of your friends introduced you to back then.

And when Armin found out, he was livid. But he loves you so much that he couldn't possibly bear to hurt you, no. Instead, he saved you from the inevitable torment.

"Y/N, you did this portion wrong, do it again." "Y/N! Didn't I tell you to replace this number with this? Do it again." "We're not stopping until you get it right."

Sure, Armin can be strict, but it's for your own good.

"Y/N, I apologize if I was harsh today. I just want to see you do good. And I'm so proud of you. I really believe you'll ace this test this week."

"I-It's okay, Armin. And thank you for helping me again. I promise I'll—"

"Say, Y/N, you should really stop seeing that person. I heard you were going out on a date with (Your crush's name). I suggest you don't. I heard they're going out with a friend of yours. (You friend's name) is their name, I think?"

"W-What? Where did you heard that?"

"Everyone's been talking about it. Plus, I think the reason you're doing pretty bad today is because of them. So please, Y/N, we worked really hard for you to get such good scores. Wouldn't you wanna make your senpai proud?"

You're so thankful for Armin. And you really don't want to disappoint him after all of what he's done for you.

So what better way to repay him than be obedient?

Jean the Stalker

It's not rocket science that Jean is a handsome young man.

But when he saw you? Oh, boy. He felt as if everything in the world felt right. You were just so fucking beautiful. The first time he saw you, he just couldn't look away. It felt as if his breath got knocked out of him.

He was sure you were a God/Goddess walking on Earth. Never had he seen someone so ethereal.

But the thing is, you were just so out of his league. While everyone kept talking to you, made friends with you, flirted with you, Jean stood from afar and watched you from the distance.

Sure, he follows your social media accounts. But he couldn't help but make dummy accounts and followed your accounts as well. He didn't want to take the risk of accidentally liking a picture of yours from years back with his personal account.

He didn't want you to think of him as a weird stalker or something because Jean is definitely not a stalker, no. Just no chance of him being that.

What Jean didn't know, is that you never noticed him at all. It's not your fault though, he was usually quiet and blended in the background. If you ever did see him around, you'd forget about him soon after. A shame, really.

But don't let Jean know that.

What started as him following your social media accounts turned into him just simply following you around.

He took note of you always stopping by at this convenient store right after class to buy your favorite drink and favorite sandwich almost everyday before you go home.

It happened so frequently, him walking with his hoodie on, head hung low as he walked a few steps behind you and somehow watching you buy the exact same thing everyday.

But everytime, Jean would only stop by at the convenient store. Once you were done, he would walk home. He didn't want to follow you home. Well, it's not that he didn't want to, it's just that he doesn't have the courage yet.

However, curiosity got the best of him and at night, when you were going home late, he followed you on your way home and you swore you could feel as if someone was follow you.

"Who's there?" Nothing.

When Jean successfully followed you home, it was like something inside him flicked open. And every night, he would stop by outside your home for an hour or so and every night he would see your silhouette as you took off your clothes and changed into comfier ones, and Jean had thoughts where he'd imagine just how you looked underneath them.

With each passing day, you felt as if you were continuously being watched. Being followed.

Maybe next time, you should really learn how to close your window.

Say, do you remember where your favorite underwear went?

Erwin the Blackmailer

You could never really ask for a better boyfriend. Erwin has it all.

At least, that's what you thought in the first few years of your relationship.

Erwin was everything you wanted and more. And he loved you so much... way too much.

And truthfully, you loved Erwin too. But there's no denying he's gotten so unbearable.

Back then, you would have done everything for Erwin. But every bit of love that you had for this man was now replaced with fear.

When Erwin began to openly express his obsession with you and his primary goal of making you all to himself, you had run away from him, far too scared of the lengths he'd go through just to satisfy this... obsession of his.

You noticed it little by little. But never had you thought it would come to this.

It started small at first. He would stop you from spending time with your friends little by little until you could no longer see them.

He would say something about them being bad influences. Going as far as to make up convincing lies that you, stupidly fell for.

After that, he stopped you from seeing your own family. Cut ties with those who are important to you. Deprived you your freedom. For he thought that you, going outside meant that you would meet someone else other than him.

And the thought of someone even merely looking at you made his blood boil.

But everytime you ran away from him, he would find you. Doesn't matter if you hid from him for weeks, months. He would end up finding you each and everytime.

At first, Erwin liked the cat and mouse game that you played. He thought it was thrilling. But then he slowly realized you were gaining this new profound strength. As if you thought that he wouldn't do anything except to find you and drag you back with him.

"I'm not going with you anymore, Erwin! I'm sick of this shit. You're all bark but no bite. Well, guess what? I'm done. And I'm not coming back!"

"Bark but no bite, eh? I wish you hadn't said that, Y/N. Say, your best friend doesn't live too far from here. You wouldn't mind if I pay them a visit, right? I'm sure they're worried about you, doll."

Ever since then, Erwin would blackmail you by threatening to hurt your loved ones if you didn't do as you were told.

This made your fear for him to go back and one time where you did disobey him despite his threats, you received a news where your bestfriend was found badly beaten in a dark alley and the perpetrator was nowhere to be found. Your bestfriend almost died if the suspect hadn't stopped.

And deep down, you knew this was Erwin's doing. It served as a warning that he wasn't afraid to kill for you so long as you stayed with him.

"I'm doing this for us, doll. Why can't you see how much I love you?"

"They don't deserve you, Y/N. They aren't willing to go for miles for you. But me, I would do anything to keep you by my side. Isn't that what you wanted? You said you didn't want to lose me, right?"

Erwin loved you so much. He wouldn't want to risk losing you ever again.

Maybe he should try going after your family this time the next time you try and run away from him.

Levi the Possessive

Levi had lost more people than he could count. So the moment he saw you?

He didn't want to let go.

What's scary about Levi is that you don't know what he's thinking of. He would never let you know what it is that runs through his mind.

He knows, however, that you're just like him. You lost your family and you barely had any friends. And you worked as a waiter/waitresss at this local diner to earn money for your tuition fee.

Levi understands. He's been through that struggle and he could see it on your face. He took note of everything you did. And he made a habit of coming in for tea even though the tea in the diner tasted like shit. But if you made it, he would make sure to leave an extra tip.

Levi made sure that it was you who would serve him everytime. If it were someone else, he would request for you immediately.

You never really noticed Levi, in all honesty. It wasn't his fault. It's not that he's not attractive. It's just that you were too far in your head to even look or strike a conversation with him.

You were quiet and obedient and somehow Levi liked that about you. It just means you would put up a less of a fight. Means it would be easier to convince you. Means that you would always say yes.

Though Levi hoped that underneath that submissive nature to you, you would somehow have a backbone there. Being too compliant would bore him to death.

And he witnessed that when you suddenly snapped at a customer for being perverted. You were almost fired on the spot if it weren't for the fact that Levi testified for you.

That was the first time you truly noticed him.

Ever since then, you made sure that you would be the one to serve Levi everytime he came by. And you made his tea extra special, which he appreciated. It was the least you could do after he helped you out the other day.

Days passed and Levi had successfully scored a date with you. The first time he saw your apartment, he was really glad to see it clean and organized despite its dinginess and small size. It was all you could afford.

Levi suggested a stay-in date at your place, just so he could see if you were fit to live with him. Once he saw how great of a cook you are, how tidy you are and everything, he knew it was time to eventually convince you.

Sex with Levi meant that he would top you. All of the fucking time. And everytime it happened, he would always mutter the same thing to you:

"You're mine. All fucking mine."

Of course, you treated it as simple dirty talk. Men say that all the time, right?

Eventually, Levi brought up the idea of you living with him. At first, you declined. You couldn't possibly do that. But Levi having a silver-tongue meant he eventually convinced you.

Living with Levi was a walk in a park. You'd help him clean and would tell him that you would help out with the bills but you were surprised when he told you that you didn't have to worry about that.

"Just sit down and look pretty for me, brat. That's all you need to do. You don't have to worry about the money."

You didn't like that Levi didn't want you to help with the bills but you couldn't possibly retort something back. He let you live in a nice home with a nice bathroom. Who were you to have a say in things?

Days passed, and Levi somehow brought up the topic of you quitting your job.

"What? But I like—"

"Like being a waiter/waitress? Come on, Y/N. Your colleagues are absolute assholes and don't get me started on your manager. I see how he looks at you."

"I'm sure that's not true, Levi..."

"Are you doubting me?"

"W-What? N-No, I—"

"That's a good girl. You know I'd hate it if those dingy dickwads were to look at what's mine, right?"

You quit your job.

Levi knew you'd be bored inside the house so in return, he let you sign up in one of those online courses to keep you busy.

It was all coming into plan. Finally, he got the partner for life he always dreamed of. The one that would cook him dinner everytime he came home from work. Would pleasure him in bed when he's stressed. Would clean without him having to ask you.

You were so perfect.

People hadn't heard from you for months. But Levi convinced you that there's no need if people heard from you or not. Eventually, they would forget about you. You had no family, you had no friends, all you had was Levi.

And if you found out that Levi would lock you inside the house everytime he left for work, you would choose to stay silent.

And if he were to ask you to wear a chain around your ankle, who were you to say No?

After all, Levi gave you everything.

Levi was your everything.

And you were everything to Levi.

How could he ever share something so precious to the world?

#attack on titan #attack on titan fic #shingeki no kyokin #snk fic #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #yandere eren #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #yandere armin #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #yandere jean #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #yandere erwin #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #yandere levi

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feelin-woozy · 3 years

Text

Title: I'm Your Man

Word Count: 2,562

Pairing: Danny Johnson x GN reader

Warnings: Gunplay, referenced knife play, very toxic relationships, impact play, some violent imagery and threats of violence, under negotiated kinks. They making love but they're being freaks abt it,,,,, making love in a rly fucked up way.

[AO3 LINK]

What you're doing is stupid, it’s dangerous, it’s audacious, it’s a million other adjectives that display your sheer stupidity, but most notably, it’s exhilarating. It makes your thighs quake, and your breath catch in your throat. Even when you have the upper hand, something about Danny never fails to deconstruct you to your more baser desires. And you know it’s not just you who feels this; as much as he loathes to admit it, you did something to him as well. It’s how you got him in this position in the first place.

Danny stares up at you, strands of blonde hair falling into his face and making his nose crinkle. There’s a murderous look swimming within his blue irises, like the moment you let your guard down, he will take matters into his own hands. To reaffirm that he is the one who holds power, not you, never you. To mold you back into that subservient little thing he’s worked too hard to force you into, but then there’s this spark within his eyes that overshadows the dark intent. It’s the look of how you feel, pure exhilaration.

His sharp cheeks are dusted with pale pink, jaw clenched till veins pop along his neck, and you can hear his teeth gnash together. In the dim lighting of the room, he looks dangerous, sharp edges highlighted by the way shadows dance over your face. It excites you all that much more, a true testament to how utterly fucked you were.

“I got a surprise for you,” You swivel your hips, leaning down to drag kisses along his jaw, the stubble catching along the soft skin of your lips. Despite the way his body tenses, his hips still involuntarily rock up into you, his cock throbbing. You lean back and smile at him before you pull off of him with a wet squelch. His cock bobs, the flushed skin shining with the remnants of lube.

Your legs wobble for a moment as you straighten yourself, the chilled floorboards creaking under your weight. You stumble over the clothing that litters the floor, your barefoot catching in the leg of tartan printed briefs. You kick it off to the side, clearing your path to the dresser across the room.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk away, and the air shifts around you. It becomes dense, and with each step you take, it feels as though you’re walking through jelly and over eggshells. You don’t let it deter you; you can’t. You were too far into this to back down. It would only reaffirm that you were nothing more than self-abasing, a toy that he could toss aside when he grew bored. You needed him to know you were more than that, that you were an integral part of his being. That throwing you away would be the same as throwing a few pieces of the jigsaw away, leaving him incomplete.

You rummage through the drawer of your shared dresser, careful not to crease the carefully folded dress shirts within. Spindly fingers wrap around the cool metal. Upon contact, you feel a sudden rush. Power swelling within your chest like an over filled balloon. It’s nearly suffocating as it scrapes along your ribcage, and you find it difficult to determine if you like the feeling. If you liked the side that Danny dragged out of you in the name of love.

Turning around, you look at him with as much of a neutral expression as you can muster. Trying not to convey fear or excitement to feed into his reaction. Your eyes carefully rove over his face.

Danny’s lips part slightly, and there’s something new within his eyes. Fear maybe? No, it was closer to indignation.

“Gunna kill me, baby?” He speaks with a sharp rasp, words dripping with equal parts venom and arousal. His brows knit together, a deep groove forming along his forehead as he stares at you with a narrowed gaze. You watch him try and get a read on you, trying to determine if this was how he’d meet his bitter end if he’d finally pushed just a little too hard and sent you tumbling down into madness like Alice down the rabbit hole. He settles his nerves, letting his words wash over you coldly. “I’m hurt you’d use a gun for it, after all we’ve been through together and you chose something so… Impersonal..”

You’re not sure what he’s trying to accomplish in saying this. Was he trying to goad you on? Send you into an uncontrolled frenzy that he could redirect to gain control? Was he trying to scare you? To make your hands tremble and quickly fumble with the zip ties that dug into the flesh of his wrists, constraining him to the wooden dining chair. Did he want you groveling at his feet and begging for forgiveness that he likely wouldn’t be kind enough to bestow? That one felt like a safe bet.

“No, I need you.” You let the words drip off your tongue like honey, lips twisting into a smirk as his hips buck up into nothing and his jaw goes slack. You walk back to him and situate yourself within his lap once more. Using the hand not wrapped around the grip of the gun, you position him carefully before sinking down onto him once more in a quick sudden motion.

The two of you moan, the sound melding together into something harmonious and beautiful. His arms flex against where they’re restrained, muscles rippling below pale skin. You know he must be going near crazy being unable to touch you, to have his way with you. To tear into you like a soft peach and have your juices messily dripping down his chin as he devours you.

“I love you,” You murmur, carefully dragging the barrel of the gun down along his jaw. His head tips back, letting you move the gun freely as a shaky exhale passes through his lips.

“Is it loaded?” Danny breathes, hips mindlessly rocking up into you in a steady rhythm. If it didn’t feel so good, you likely would have chastised him for doing so. After all, you were in charge. But you knew you were already toeing the line of what you could get away with; it was better to pick your battles than to face his wrath.

“Wanna find out?” You hook your index over the trigger as you drag the barrel carefully and nudge it against his lips. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before they part, and he slowly lets you force the pistol past. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, and you watch the way his tongue glides along the underside of the slide, taking the gun in till lips meet the trigger guard. “It is. Could blow your brains out right now if I wanted to.”

He moans at that, hips bucking up in a way that has you jolting, knocking the gun within his mouth and making him gag. A part of you expects anger to flood his face, for him to pull back and spit out the safeword, but if anything, it spurs him on more. Eyes closing as his cheeks hollow.

“You look so good like this, baby.” You whisper, raising yourself carefully before dropping once more and impaling yourself on his cock. You move at a leisurely pace, not entirely chasing your pleasure and more so fixated on the sight of him sucking on the barrel of the pistol like his life depended on it. And to some extent, it did; the looming threat, the implication that his brains could paint the wall behind you only served to turn the air heady with dangerous electricity. Danny didn’t seem to mind all that much at this moment, not with the way he bobs his head hastily, mindless bliss curling over his features and smoothing his brow.

You pull the gun out, making a note of how the color on his cheeks has deepened into a dark red. His pupils are blown till the blue no longer exists. His lips are slicked shiny with spit, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Gunna fuck me now? Done playin’ your little game?”

“Can I hit you?” A sliver of your usual timidness sneaks its way in, making your words falter enough that the glimpse of a predator can be seen in his eyes once more. He remains silent for a moment, letting your request roll around within his mind. You rock your hips, rolling yourself deeper on his cock and allowing an obscene little noise to tumble past your lips. “Please?”

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, head tipping back as he soaks up the feeling of your walls clinging to his cock. After a moment, he looks at you once more, that dangerous look within his eyes that told you to tread lightly. “You’re getting too comfortable with this, babe.”

“You can carve me up real good next time,” You promise him, the words tumbling out almost desperately. His lips quirk slightly into a curve as you lean down, peppering the column of his throat in kisses and bites. You drag your nose along the curve of his neck affectionately, inhaling the scent of cigarettes, aftershave, and cologne and allowing it to wash over you like a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“Fine.” He lets out a sigh, trying his damndest to sound like this was more of a favor to you than it was exciting for him. You watch the way his face melts. An almost soft look crossing his features when your face lights up with the sudden excitement. “Be fuckin’ careful though.”

You let out a hum, moving from his neck to his face to capture his lips in a frantic kiss as you bounce eagerly on his cock. He meets your unbridled passion with his own, teeth sinking into your lower lip brutally till the taste of copper fills your mouth, and sticky warmth dribbles down the curve of your lip. You draw back, fingers curling around the grip of the gun in a firm grip.

Before he has any time to prepare himself, to think twice and go back on his word, you raise your arm before swiftly bringing it down with careful precision. A loud crack can be heard as the butt of the gun collides with the side of his face. His body thrashes, arms pulling uselessly against his restraints as his heels dig into the wood below. It makes the feelings of power wash over you once more in a torrential downpour, drowning you with the force of it and how it so thoroughly saturated your nerves and set fire to them.

The guttural moan that leaves his lips reverberates through his chest, and it catches you slightly off guard. You should have expected it, really; it wasn’t shocking that something like this was making Danny’s cock throb within you or having butterflies dancing within his stomach. You catch a dazed expression plastered over his face as his head lolls back on his shoulders. Unconsciously, you grip the gun again, finger curling over the trigger. As if waiting for him to lash out, to give you an excuse to fill his body with holes. Not that you could, the thought made your mouth taste of decay, and when he lifts his head and locks eyes with you, it only solidifies that you couldn’t do it.

There’s something beautiful about the way Danny looks with a busted visage. An angry medley of reds and purples has already begun to bloom over the right side of his face, the skin splitting and dripping with thick rivulets of red. It’s angelic, and you almost want to ruin this moment by asking to take a photo.

Your lips part, and a shaky exhale rattles through your diaphragm. You toss the gun aside, not bothering to flick the safety. All you do is pray it won’t discharge in a cruel stroke of misfortune. It bounces on the bed twice before settling without any issues.

One hand comes to cradle his face, fingertips pressing into the tender flesh as your lips meet his in a ravenous and all-consuming kiss. The way he winces under your touch momentarily before kissing you back makes your heartbeat a little faster, and you can’t stop the way you tighten around him like a vice.

“You’re fucking insane,” The words are panted out between kisses; they shake and fall so deliciously close to unhinged. “Like hurting me baby? Rile you up?” The comments are rambling, a true tell that he was just as delirious on pleasure as you were. You nod your head eagerly, the hand not on his face gripping into his shoulder as the two of you set a brutal tempo, the sound of your skin meeting echoing obscenely off the walls of the bedroom. “Should bring you with me one day, let you gut someone. Bet you’d look so fuckin’ sexy covered in someone’s blood.”

The proposition has you crying out, teetering so close to your release. It tears out a hysteric laugh from Danny, his hips faltering and becoming jerky and erratic.

One more thrust is all it takes for you to let a myriad of indiscernible noises, some sounding damn near inhuman as your orgasm, overtakes you. The force of it, the way your muscles tremble and you clench around him, drags him down just as violently. A cry of your name rips through the air, and you feel the way his cock throbs, painting your insides.

“You’re perfect.” Danny concludes with a wheeze as you slump forward. Your bones feel gelatinous, and you don’t want to move from where you were. Wanting to forever be suspended at this moment where you and Danny are so intimately connected. You feel the gentle dragging of his lips against the side of your head, the action so tender and only feeding into your desire to remain. “Need you to cut me free, baby.”

The way he speaks is commanding, and you know better than to ignore it for your own selfish means. Especially after something like this, you know you need to willingly hand the power back to him to soothe wounded egos and dark thoughts of losing control over you. So with a whine, you pull off of him. The wet noise that rings through the air as you pull, accompanied by the slow drip of sticky, viscous fluid down your thighs, makes your face scrunch up slightly.

Danny laughs fondly at you for it, watching you bumble around the room on shaky legs while you grab a pair of scissors before returning to cut free where each wrist was restrained to the back of the chair. You watch as he rolls his shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness that crept into the muscles and joints before he rubs at the red indentations that mar his wrists—another mark of imperfection that sends a strike of lighting through your nervous system.

You reach down, fingers carefully encircling his wrists as you drag the limb up to meet your lips. You press a gentle kiss into the angry red mark, smiling softly as you look at him. “Could never leave you, Danny.”

“Yeah. I know.”

#The name sake is leonard cohen pls listen 2 the song its bomb #Danny Johnson x Reader #Jed Olsen x reader #Danny Johnson x you #Jed Olsen x you #dbd danny johnson #dbd jed olsen #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #danny johnson #jed olsen #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #my writing

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