#and he fucking tears into his friend for being indifferent

[irishbreakfst]

They really don't make movies that are so openly anti-nazi as the sound of music anymore, huh

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend; he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother; he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents; he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him; unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Well I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid; not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d show a you devotion and love you though t you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-

[byeoltoyuki]

Yeah, I hate you too

↳ Pairing: Jisung x reader

❧ Genre: porn with little plot, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, fluff, fake texts

❧ Words: +3k

❧ Warnings: fingering, sexting (kind of), anal, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, spanking, masturbation, mention of toys

❧Summary : They think you're dating. Wrong. How could you date someone you hate so badly? Right?

❧ A/N: I wrote this on a whim and definitely didn't have time to proofread it, so I'm sorry if there's some mistakes. Hope you enjoy it either way!

***

“Where’s Jisung?” Changbin asked as his eyes darted back and forth between you and the empty spot beside him. Empty spot because it took Jisung only five minutes to find something better to do than be with his friends.

You shrugged, indifferent. “How would I know?”

“Aren’t you his girlfriend?”

Now that was confusing. “I’m not.” You scoffed at the idea.

You barely tolerated each other. The only reason you had been cordial, at best, with him was because he was Felix’s friend. The said man shook his head which only fuelled your annoyance. “What?” You took a sip of your drink to try to drown your annoyance and uneasy feeling.

Felix shook his head but the smug smile remained. The little shit. “Nothing.”

“You have this look!” You pointed at his face as if he had personally offended you. Well maybe a little. Nobody should be allowed to look this pretty.

“What look?”

“Felix.”

“Y/N.”

God, you loved your friend, you really did but he knew how to annoy the hell out of you. “What.is.it?”

Felix’s eyes shone brightly. And with mischief. He leant closer, arm brushing yours. “It’s cute how you think I don’t know about you and Jisung.” And he winked. The audacity.

You gasped loudly. “I’m not dating him!”

It wasn’t your intention to say it so loud and attract Changbin’s attention back on you. He quirked a brow at you and also leant closer, obviously interested in your statement. Fuck.

Felix’s smirk only widened. “Never said anything about dating.”

Fine. You had lied. You had a situationship with Han Jisung. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he annoyed you eighty percent of the time. But he sure knew how to use his mouth. And tongue. And cock. He got you addicted and you hated him even more for that.

Before you could share a piece of your mind with Felix, your phone’s screen lit. It distracted you. So easily.

At his message, you almost dropped your phone. Count on Han Jisung to be this blunt. But then again, it probably was one of the reason you gave in so easily the first time he approached you.

His words alone brought back the same images you had been trying so hard to forget. Six days, 144 hours, 8640 minutes and still unforgettable. It was one of those nights; you were stressed with deadlines and loneliness was getting the best of you too. But then Jisung came to your place without notice, as if he owned the place, and disturbed all your plans at self-loathing. You tried of course to kick him out of your place, kicking and screaming – all he did was throw you over his shoulder and slap your ass strong enough to make you yelp in surprise. He brought you to your room and threw you on your bed. You weren’t even in the mood for sex, no matter how good it always was with him, but the look he had when he stared down at you set your body on fire.

Did he spend hours, or at least it felt like hours, nestled between your legs, feasting on you, marking you, teasing you till you were just a whimpering mess at his mercy, crying and writhing, begging for a release he wasn’t willing to give because you weren’t being nice to him. Absolutely. You hated how responsive your body was to him. Hated how he knew where to push, where to lick, where to suck, where to bite to make your toe curl, to bring tears to your eyes, to make you scream his name. He loved it, so bad, when you screamed his name.

When Jisung finally let you come, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t see and your body were spent. You didn’t think you would recover from such a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm. You told him so, knowing damn well how smug he would be, how pleased.

“What got into you?” You asked him, panting. You watched him remove his clothes, one by one, taking his sweet time. It was odd. He never took his time. Han Jisung was impatient and too eager ninety-five percent of the time. So why now?

Jisung’s smile turned wicked which set your alarms on alert. He was up to something. Something bad. And also probably incredibly delicious. But could you really do it? You tried to move your legs and winced.

Jisung crawled back on the bed, slowly, enjoying the view of your sweaty body, and all the marks he had left on your thighs. Such a beautiful woman and all for him to ravish. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He admitted.

“And how is it my fault?” You scoffed and tried to sound unfazed. Your body disagreed. Your stomach flipped, excited.

Jisung hovered over you, his body trapping you under him, lips dangerously close yours but still not touching while his hand, his damn hand, slid slowly from your breasts to your stomach. Feather-like touches that sent shivers down your spine. But his hand didn’t stop on your stomach, it travelled to your abused, still incredibly sensitive pussy; your hips jerked in response and a small whine left your lips.

“No.” You tried to move your body to escape his touch.

But Jisung only smiled. “No? Hmm.” He teased your clit despite your protest and you grabbed his arms, digging your nails into his skin. “And it is your fault. I couldn’t erase the image of you flirting with this dude from the bar. He was awfully touchy with someone that isn’t his.” And he couldn’t resist the urge: he gave your pussy a slap. Strong enough to make you yelp in surprise, but not strong enough to hurt you.

You couldn’t believe he was being possessive. Was it the same guy you had been butting heads with for the past two years? Was it the same guy that begged you one night to let you eat you out because you looked too gorgeous in a red silky dress? “He wasn’t that touchy.” You tried to defend yourself even if he was right. He had been too touchy which had earnt him a kick in his balls later but Jisung didn’t need to know that. You wanted to see how far he was ready to go to show you who you belong to.

But Jisung saw right through you. With his free hand he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. “Yeah? He touched this,” And his hand reached your ass. He gave it a strong squeeze before landing a first slap. You didn’t think you could get any wetter but you fucking did. “And this ass belongs to me, Y/N. You know it right?”

You were dying to say ‘no’, you didn’t belong to him and your ass certainly didn’t. But all your fire, all your protests died on your tongue when you felt his fingers dangerously close to your other hole.

“I believe this is the only place I haven’t claimed, right?” He hummed in satisfaction.

“Jisung,” You called for him, but why? You couldn’t tell whether you were scared to try something new or if you were excited. Probably both. “I-“

His fingers slid back to your dripping pussy. He gathered your juices and spread them around your other hole. He pushed a finger inside your ass and you gasped loudly. “Oh my god.” You mewled, shutting your eyes.

You couldn’t believe it. It felt weird and new. And so fucking good.

“I knew you would love it.” He chuckled. “Always knew you would let me completely defile you, wouldn’t you?”

And he added another finger, pushing slowly, filling you, stretching you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You couldn’t possibly survive this. But you definitely wanted it. “Yes.” You admitted.

Jisung chuckled as his fingers worked their magic. “Say it. Say you want me to fuck your pretty, little ass.”

“Please,” You begged.

He pulled out his fingers, leaving you empty and open. “And?”

You took a deep breath, realizing that he wouldn’t give you what you wanted unless you said those damn words. “Please Jisung, fuck my ass. I need it. Right. Now.”

Jisung snickered and flipped you with ease on your stomach. “Was it that hard?”

“Yes, asshole.” You managed to snap back.

Jisung only laughed at your weak attempt to fight back. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. “Such a nasty mouth.” He gave your ass another strong slap. “I’ll fuck it later too.”

‘As if!’ You wanted to say. But you felt his cock pressing to your hole. You sucked in a breath, tensing.

Jisung stroked your ass, trying to sooth you. “Relax, babe.”

Even if your mind wanted to fight him, your body obeyed.

He pushed slowly, inch by inch, struggling to control himself but despite his own needs, he kept a close eye on you, watching your every breath, your every wince. He wanted this experience to be enjoyable for you too and he knew you would love it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You didn’t think you could stretch anymore. You didn’t think you could ever feel this full. But it was exactly how you felt.

With one last thrust, he pushed all the way in. He groaned and closed his eyes to savour the feel of you around his cock. So tight, so nice, so pretty.

You fisted the sheets, needing something to hold on to. Or to destroy.

He pulled out slowly only to push back in. “Fuck babe, you feel so fucking good. So good I could die. Fuck.”

Jisung took his time with you, his thrust slow and as gentle as possible. It hurt and you squeezed the sheets tightly. But it also felt divine. Quickly, you found yourself wanting more, needing more, to relieve the itch. So you pushed back and he smiled in delight.

“Someone is excited.” He commented.

You were and you didn’t care anymore. “Show me what you can do, pretty boy.” You provoked him.

Jisung halted and hovered over your back. His warm breath caressed your cheek and then your ear. “Remember that you asked for it.” And he slammed hard into you, picking up his pace.

“Shit.” You moaned loudly, unable to hold back.

Jisung showed you no mercy. Every thrusts shattered and remade you. Every thrusts brought pleasure unknown to you. You didn’t think you could feel this good. You didn’t know if it had anything to do with Jisung and you didn’t care anymore. You took everything he gave you; every push of his cock, every groan, every dig of his fingers into your skin.

Jisung’s fingers slid to your clit and you almost collapsed at the new sensation. His thrusts along with his fingers playing with your clit brought you to the edge quicker and with so much strength. You barely registered when your body tensed and completely let go. You simply split apart with a sharp cry, waves of pleasure wrecking your body.

“Such a good girl.” Jisung didn’t stop. He used your body to seek his own climax. “And I can’t fucking get enough of you. I hate you for that.” But you barely heard him, still lost to your own pleasure. “Fuck, fuck.” Jisung came with a loud groan, pulling out to paint your ass with his release.

Fuck. You clenched your thighs tightly at the unwanted memory. You squeezed your phone tightly in your grip as if it had personally offended you. Your face flushed and you cursed under your breath. You weren’t supposed to get all horny in the middle of the bar. You weren’t supposed to let Jisung affect you so badly. But boy you were.

You tried to save yourself with this message. The bar wasn’t crowded and the lights were dimmed. There was no way he could see your state or your blush. Right?

Fuck. Your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were wet. Too fucking wet. You could ignore Jisung’s messages and suggestions, it was hella tempting since he was the one responsible for your state. Or you could leave and take care of your little problem without inviting him. That would piss him off and serve him right. You liked this plan better.

“I’m leaving.” You told Felix as you got back on your feet and readjusted your dress.

Felix eyed you with a cocked brow. “Why? You just go there.”

Something told you that whatever excuses you come out with, Felix wouldn’t believe you. Not when he was smirking like that. He knew something but you refused to delve into the matter. Nope. Not tonight. Not when your body was on fire. Not when your pussy was clenching desperately. “I’m tired.” You said and grabbed your bag.

“Tired.” Felix repeated your words with a poor imitation of your voice. “Sure thing, sweet. See you later.”

***

By the time you got to the safety of your home, your mind was plagued with images of Jisung between your legs. You couldn’t believe that your brain would think of him when you could have pictured anyone, anything. But you didn’t fight back those thoughts. You didn’t have time nor the will. Your body was too needy.

You took your heels and threw them somewhere on the ground. You hurried to get rid of your dress and your, now, completely ruined panties. I’ll make him pay another time. You threw yourself on your bed and readjusted your pillows to get as comfortable as possible.

A deep sigh of relief escaped your parted lips. Finally. You closed your eyes, Jisung’s face immediately invaded your thoughts and you let him. You let the image of him guide your hand to your breast and to your hard nipples that were begging for attention. You squeezed and pinched and let out small moans. You relaxed instantly, revelling in the different sensations.

You let your hand slid slowly from your breast to your stomach, drawing invisible circles on your skin before reaching between your legs, the place that most needed your attention. You took it slow; gentle rubs, circling your clit, letting the pleasure spread all over your body. Your fingers slipped inside your soaked pussy and you arched your back, imaging that it wasn’t your fingers but the most annoying person’s ones.

“Fuck.” You mewled.

“Now that’s a sight I’m not ready to ever forget.” Jisung’s annoying (sweet) voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your eyes snapped open and you almost jolted out of your bed. “What the fuck?!”

No. He couldn’t possibly be there. How could he?  Were you that tired that somehow you started hallucinating? But no, as you looked at him standing by your door, licking his lips, his eyes darker than ever, you realized that he was not a piece of your imagination. “What, how?”

Jisung twirled the keys to your place and smirked. “Spare keys.”

You frowned, your dizzy mind having a hard time to catch up with his words. “I didn’t give you the spare keys to my place.”

Jisung nodded. “No. you didn’t.” He put them back in his pocket, proud of the effect he had on you. His eyes quickly slid to your spread legs and you realized too late that he had a perfect view of the mess you were. “Felix gave me the keys.”

The little shit! You knew he was up to something. You would make sure to make him pay later for not minding his damn business.

“Don’t be so angry, babe.” Jisung cooed, reading your emotions so easily. “Instead, show me how you play with yourself, hm?”

The ache between your legs returned so quick it almost knocked you out. This man and his voice had such a strong hold on you. You couldn’t help but obey and forget all about your annoyance.

“Tell me, what were you imagining while having your fingers inside this sweet pussy, hm?” Jisung asked as he watched your fingers disappear inside you. He licked his lips, drooling at the beautiful sight. He wanted nothing more than replace your fingers with his and with his tongue but for once, he fought his own needs. He grabbed the chair in the corner of your room at put it right before your bed so he could have the best view.

“You.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. “And what exactly was I doing in your imagination?”

“You were sucking on my clit with those pretty lips of yours while your fingers were stretching me nicely.”

“Shit.” Jisung groaned to himself. He could imagine it so easily. He unzipped his jeans and took out his hard cock dripping already with pre-cum. Jisung fell into rhythm with you, matching your energy as he worked his hand around his cock. “Add another finger.”

And you obeyed. “Look at me.” He ordered. And you did once again. You moaned at the sight. You didn’t think watching Jisung touch himself would fuel your own desire, your own pleasure but it did. You almost came right on the spot.

But the itch was still there. No matter how hard you played with yourself you were still unsatisfied. You couldn’t reach as deep as he could. “Jisung. Please. I need you.”

Jisung chuckled. “Do you now? I think you’re doing pretty well on your own.” But truth was, he needed you too. So fucking badly. He needed, desperately, to sink his cock inside your pussy. He needed to feel your walls around his cock, squeezing him, begging for more.

“Am not. I need you. Please.” You begged shamelessly. You took out your fingers and spread your pussy for him to see. “Look. I need you.”

Jisung gulped, his willpower slowly crumbling. How could he resist now? “Me? Or my cock?”

“Both. Please?”

Jisung ruffled his hair in frustration. “Fuck.” He left his spot, hurried to take all of his clothes and almost jumped on your bed. He grabbed your legs with so much strength, you yelped in surprise. He spread you wider for him. He let his fingers slid from your clit to your entrance, testing how wet you were. “Babe, you’re dripping. All for me?”

“All for you.”

“So pretty.” He took his cock and nudged it playfully against your pussy, making you mewl and push your hips in need. “And mine.” He plunged inside you with one powerful thrust that made the two of you groan.

You closed your eyes, feeling all of him. Hard and deep inside you. And so damn perfect. A part of you didn’t want it to feel so good but the one that didn’t care, savoured the stretch, the fullness.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love.” Jisung confessed as he pulled out slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, torturing you with how slow and gentle he was. You didn’t want slow. You didn’t want gentle. Not when you were so consumed with need and lust. You wanted him to wreck you.

“With me or my pussy?” You managed to joke and chocked when he slammed back. “Fuck.” You arched your back. He sure knew how to make you shut your mouth.

Jisung didn’t answer your question and you forgot all about it as he started thrusting. Just like you hoped and prayed. Hard. Deep. Making you hold your sheets tightly as you met his thrusts with your own.

“Harder.” You begged unable to think about anything else but him and his cock deep inside you.

“As you wish.” His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your skin that would leave marks – you didn’t care. You let him use you as he saw fit. You let him pound into you.

The sound of his grunts, of your moans and slap of skin was slowly driving you mad. The rhythm he set got you writhing and begging for release in no time. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you, feeling his body crashing you under him, as you claimed his mouth in a desperate and needy kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth, damn proud of your state.

“I hate you.” You bit on his lips and he fought back with a powerful thrust. “So fucking,” And another. “Much.” And another.

Jisung kissed you back with as much needs. He was just as desperate for release as you were and so damn close. He tried to distract himself, to keep his control. He needed you to come. Right fucking now. One hand slipped between your bodies and he played with your clit as he kept pounding into you. Pinching it. Rubbing it. He left you no choice. He pushed you over the edge.

“Fuck!” Your back arched as your orgasm slammed into you. Your whole body shuddering as Jisung didn’t stop. He fucked you through your release, not slowing down even for a second. And you held onto him, strong and tight, and watched as he lost himself to his own pleasure. You watched him close his eyes as he slammed one last time and released himself.

Jisung slowly pulled out of you and took a second to admire his work. Your fucked up face. Your sweaty body. Your abused, dripping pussy. “Bloody hell. So damn beautiful.” He couldn’t stop himself from pushing back his fingers into your sensitive pussy to push back his cum inside you.

“Don’t. I can’t.” You begged and wriggled, trying to escape his dangerous fingers. You were completely and utterly spent. You couldn’t take more. But telling this to Jisung wasn’t your brightest idea. It only fuelled him more.

“But you look so pretty and yummy. How can a man resist?” And he brought his fingers to his mouth. Covered with both his and yours release. You gawked at him at you swore your pussy clenched again with need at the sight. He cleaned his fingers, humming in satisfaction.

“By the way,” He rolled to the side and pulled your body flushed against him. “I think I’m in love with both.” He admitted and kissed your head. “You and your pussy.”

You couldn’t believe him. He sure knew how to woo a woman. “Such a romantic.”

Jisung smiled sheepishly at you. “Isn’t it why you like me?”

“Tolerate you at best.” But you hid your face into his chest, refusing to show him your pink cheeks or the smile that spread on your face.

“Liar.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did. But we can do it again.” Jisung was in a mood. “So I can show you just how much I love you. And how much you love me too.”

Yeah. You liked the sound of it.

[ki-yomii]

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.4k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; fwb, angst w/ a happy ending, teasing, finger fucking, squirting, praise kink, frottage, dirty talk, pet names, commitment issues, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, dom!jk, idiots in love, misunderstandings ➥ summary | after being stood up one too many times, you realize you're in love with jungkook. and that just won't do. ➥ notes | istg i've re-written this more times than i care to count 💀 enjoy!

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cnt make it 2nite

The text is blunt - biting. No explanation offered, and certainly no false platitudes found in the lifeless string of black letters. Rather simple and straight to the point.

As you should have expected from Jungkook. He wasn’t known for his verbosity, and even less so for his love of texting.

But as you chew the fat of your cheek, reading it over and over again in an attempt to glean some hidden meaning that isn’t there, you admit to yourself - at least privately - there’s no more avoiding the truth.

One that’s been hovering over your shoulder for weeks like a shroud; an unwelcome guest you can’t ignore anymore: Jungkook’s been avoiding you.

It shouldn’t be surprising.

Moreover, it shouldn’t hurt.

There shouldn’t be an ache in your chest every time you see his contact or the plummet of your stomach when that inevitable excuse comes through.

In the end, he owes you nothing. The arrangement between you is casual, just a little fun between good friends.

It still fucking sucks though, you think, sucking your teeth.

Night thoroughly ruined before it’s begun, it’s only a matter of deciding how to respond now. In the past you’ve used a plethora of options, but you’re stumped. Unsure how to correlate the level of hurt to the nature of your not-relationship.

Should you be petty, passive-aggressive, indifferent - or worst of all: honest?

Hah, no way. I’d rather die.

Beside you, the bartender politely averts his gaze and busies himself with polishing a stack of pint glasses. It’s a slow night, and that’s saying something as this bar’s a little hole in the wall.

It’s never overly busy, which is one of the reason’s it’s a favorite meeting spot of yours. The floors might be sticky, but the music’s decent, the strobe lights they kick on after 10 PM aren’t offensive enough to induce a migraine, and the drinks are cheap with a heavy pour.

Watching him work is impressive - and almost distracting enough for you to ignore the needle sharp ache taking root beneath your ribs, the churn of your stomach.

Humiliation burns hot, creeps up your neck to settle into the apples of your cheeks as you’re stood up.

Again.

It isn’t the first time - it won’t be the last.

But it cuts deeper than all the rest combined, harder to shake off. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. The growing distance between you throbs like an open wound, as if Jungkook himself plunged a hand into your chest.

Scooped out any tender, soft thing he could find and left you hollowed out. Drained.

Not taking his flakiness personally used to be so easy. And now… well.

Goddamnit. A palm scrubs over your decolletage roughly to soothe the throb of your heart. What the hell did you expect to happen, getting involved with Jeon Jungkook, huh?

Everything from his stupidly pretty eyes to the dangerous curl of his mouth, the thick soles of his boots to the lapels of his leather jacket scream walking red flag.

Never mind the fact his proclivities are an open secret among the group. He’s never tried to hide his distaste for commitment. Finds it too monotonous. Predictable.

An eternally free soul much preferring to flit from one experience to the next, never shackled down for long. The Icarus of myth made flesh.

He runs through women like he runs through shoes, and you witnessed enough of the ensuing heartbreak and tears to be wary.

But knowing and feeling something are two very different things.

The dichotomy throws you off-kilter and finds you abandoned in a bar, once again, to choke on a regret so bitter you swear it’ll burn a hole through your throat.

What’s going on with me, you think, this is nothing new. He does this all the time.

You used to get on so well.

Any initial misgivings faded away in the face of Jungkook’s blinding attention, his unfaltering kindness lurking just beneath that surface of grit and gravel.

Even after you fuck, he never acts any differently, as casual between the sheets as he is lounging on your couch.

It's been great, it's been enough - until now.

Just the thought of going back to your empty apartment, alone, only to wake up and fall back into Jungkook’s orbit tomorrow when he swings by with a half-assed apology on his lips, and your favorite drink in hand is enough to make your skin crawl.

Stomach twisting itself into knots, everything in you rebels against the sudden cold realization: nothing will change - least of all Jungkook.

He’ll continue to take-take-take.

You'll continue to give-give-give.

On and on you'll go; a distant star orbiting a black hole, losing little bits of itself until there's nothing left.

Then he’ll leave your life as quickly as he entered it, a blurry after-image there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Fuck, I - I can’t do this anymore, you think, a shiver rattling down your spine, Because I…

An errant thought gains teeth, sinks them deep. Refuses to budge as an awful truth - one buried so deep you forgot it was there, ever lurking in the shadows - rises to the forefront of your mind.

And then --

Oh.

It’s because I love him - because I���m in love with him.

Suddenly it hurts to breathe, your lungs burning as you drown on the air itself. The steel band cinching around your ribs threatens to crack you open.

Your heart lurches in your chest, despair following swiftly to settle over your shoulders. Moreover, there is no one to blame except yourself.

Even if you want it to, it will never work out because loving Jungkook is to love the ghost of a long-forgotten memory.

And there are too many hurts to soothe, too many disappointments to name.

I can’t believe I actually -- shit. You swipe a shaky hand over your forehead. When you swallow, a sour taste clings to the back of your tongue. Should’ve known better.

You glance at your phone, the cursor blinking back at you mockingly. Should’ve done a lot of things, I guess.

Now, you're in too deep.

Waiting without ever realizing you began to do so in the first place; a life on pause, surviving off scraps of half-measures and maybe's, what-ifs, and if only's.

Now, it's clear the only way out is through.

The time to let go is here.

You need to muster up some semblance of self, and work to untangle the threads of connection binding you together. You need space to rediscover the pieces of your heart you left with him.

How to live without the taste of his kiss, the clench of his muscles, the thrust of his cock.

A new life sans Jungkook which begins with a simple reply in place of everything you really want to say: ok.

Then you wave the bartender over.

He does you a kindness once more, pretending not to notice the tears brimming along your lower lash line. “You ready to order?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah - sorry, I was…”

His mouth twitches. You waver.

Then the screen of your phone lights up with a notification.

Refusing to look lest you cave, emotions too fresh -  scraped raw and tender, you switch on DND and turn it face down where it will remain until you go home.

You're far too fragile (and sober) to think about reading Jungkook’s reply, let alone engage with him in any meaningful way.

“I’ll take a double vodka cranberry.”

Maybe if you get drunk enough, you'll forget about the home he carved in your bones.

Bottoms up, bitch.

w8 nvm guys cnt make it

y/n?

i cn b ovr in 10

???

gn ttyt

hey, sorry. called it early.

wyd?

nothing much. you?

nm running some mtchs

cool, cool. you able to swing by today?

yeh b there in 30 :)

In hindsight, trying to have this conversation with Jungkook face to face isn’t the brightest idea. But if anything, last night showed you every choice you’ve made lately is a disaster waiting to happen.

Your life’s already a mess - and you’re hopelessly in love with a man that’ll never love you back - so what’s another mistake added to a long string of misfortune.

So what if your hands tremble and your stomach churns as you unlock the door to let him in.

So what if he leans in for a kiss and you duck to the side, his lips brushing the slope of your cheek.

So what if he pauses and gives you a long, searching look before toeing off his shoes and offering you the drink he picked up on the way.

It can’t get any worse, right?

Only the hungry, molten mixture of rage and rebellion fueling you thus far fizzles away the minute you see him head towards your bedroom with a wink.

Anguish and despair follows in its wake, nipping at your heels.

This is all you’ll ever be to him, you remind yourself as you step into the room. A fun time. Nothing serious. You have to break it off.

You shoot him a tight smile. “Did you have a good night?”

Jungkook shrugs, glancing around at the decorations littering your dresser. “Nah, not really.” His gaze slides to you, traveling from your head to your bare toes in a slow once over. “I definitely would’ve had a better time with you.”

Swallowing roughly, you rub your hands over your arms and suddenly feel far too naked - exposed in your light summer dress. “Hah,” you intone without humor, awkward and stilted. “Probably not. I was out by 11:30.”

“Mm, that’s not like you.” Jungkook hums, moving forward until he’s right in front of you. His hands reach for you, grabbing your wrists gently. His thumb strokes over your pulse point. “You’re acting weird. Is there something you want to talk about, baby?”

Of course he’d notice.

It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing. Jungkook always pays attention to the details, makes leaps of logic based on little more than quiet observations.

You stitch together a chuckle. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins, his lip ring dimpling the swell of his bottom lip. Your chests brush with every inhale, sharing space and breath. 

“Nothing,” he agrees.

It’s torture. It’s too intimate.

The glow of your overhead lamp highlights the sweep of his cheekbones, the curl of his lashes as he blinks slow and happy. The barely there impression of his body is too much.

You shrink back, clearing your throat.

“No, don’t do that. Where are you going?”

His eyes, shimmering with warmth, plead with you to stay, his shoulders curving towards you. A large palm settles over your shoulder, sparks igniting wherever he touches.

“Stop hiding. You can talk to me about anything. Come on, I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Steeling your resolve, you inhale and exhale with a shudder. His expression is open, soft. You know it won’t last, and take a few seconds to commit how he looks in this moment to memory.

For all you know, this will be one of the last times you’ll be this close to him again. At least until you can beat your feelings into submission.

And then you can’t put it off anymore, unable to take the ginger strokes of his fingers. The calming caresses as if he thinks you’re something precious. Quick like ripping off a band-aid, otherwise the words will never get past the bend of your throat.

“I want to stop.”

You catch the way his eyes darken, sharpen in the dim overhead light. He knows exactly what you’re talking about, but his half-smile never falters.

Of course, he refuses to make this easy on you. To acknowledge this is happening. He’s always been a greedy man; wants what he can’t have, and destroys what he does.

“Stop what?” Jungkook says. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, baby.”

“Kook,” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “You know what I mean. I just - I can’t do,” your voice cracks, a hand motioning to the space between you, “this anymore.”

A vein throbs on the side of his neck, his jaw working in response. Muscles tense and release with every grit of his teeth. He asks, “You gonna tell me why, huh? Or are you just going to ditch me and act like it didn’t mean something?”

“Kook…”

There’s a certain grief that can’t be spoken, gnarled roots burrowing deep in your chest. A sense of loss so keenly felt it almost steals your breath.

You wish this wasn’t happening, you wish you could take it all back but this pantomime of a relationship isn’t fair to you. Not anymore. And you knew this conversation wouldn’t be fun, but Jungkook’s staunch denial still manages to surprise you.

“It didn’t mean anything though,” you say.

At least, not to you, you think. To me, it meant the world.

-- And that’s the problem.

You need to stop whatever this is between you from building. He’s already shown he doesn’t share your desire for more in a multitude of ways. He’s been avoiding you for a reason, whether he was consciously aware of your feelings or not.

Undoubtedly, you trust him with your life but not your heart.

As sweet as he is, has been, he won’t treat it gently. Not through any intentional ill-will but because he can’t contain his own commitment issues let alone make room for yours.

It’s better this way.

Let what you have - had - stay a memory unmarred by the ugliness of your hurt feelings and bitter disappointments.

Jungkook’s shoulders draw up towards his ears, his gaze glacial as his hands slide away from you. “Is there a reason you’re done with me now?”

Shadows lurk in the depths of his eyes, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. Everything about him looks weighted down.

“Well, is there? I mean, shit, I think I’ve earned an answer after all the time we spent together.”

Your heart breaks for him, everything in you calling out to close the gap and offer him comfort. But you can’t. You don’t trust yourself to touch him without wanting more than your heart can bear.

“I’m not done with you,” you say. “I would never do that to you, Kook. I just - I can’t be with you like that anymore, that’s all. I need space but I’ll still be around, I promise.”

The glare he shoots your way freezes the blood in your veins. “Cut the bullshit,” he snarls. “Tell.me.why.”

You avert your gaze, arms wrapping around your chest. “Why does that - I -”

You only had one rule at the very beginning of this mess: if there’s someone you’re serious about, you stop fucking. It comes as a handy lie - a believable excuse that’ll stop any further questioning.

You don’t think you have the fortitude if Jungkook keeps pressing you, cracking under the weight of your grief and the anger in his eyes like fine china.

“I think I - I think I want to start looking for a boyfriend again.”

An expression flashes across his face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. But there’s no doubt he recognizes it for the goodbye it’s supposed to be.

This is it, you think.

You can put what you had to rest and move on, a memory on a shelf you’ll dust off years down the line when the hurt isn’t so prevalent. And hopefully, with time, you can relearn how to be friends.

Though the strange gleam to his eyes sends a prickle of apprehension down your spine, and then you find yourself being manhandled as he snaps forward like a snake coiled to strike.

Air flees your lungs as Jungkook shoves you with a firm palm, your feet stumbling over themselves as you trip backwards into your bed frame.

Wood knocks into the backs of your knees, and you fold like a stack of cards. The sheets puff out around you, the scent of your laundry detergent tickling your nose.

You blink at the textured ceiling, mouth agape as you try to process what happened.

The empty space above you doesn’t stay vacant, Jungkook quickly crowding you into the mattress with his weight as he settles over top of your body.

He molds himself to your front, his firm hips slotting themselves between your thighs. Broad palms, warm and calloused, skim your sides and ruck up the skirt of your dress as he reaches under you to grip the soft globes of your ass.

He yanks you into him, your pelvises slotting together. You whine before you can stop yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the heat of his body.

Teeth scrape along the delicate skin of your neck, the sharp pricks of pleasure-pain coaxing a shiver down your spine.

Lips brush the shell of your ear, his minty breath puffing against the side of your face as he speaks, low and husky, “So that’s it, huh?”

“What--!”

Teeth nip your earlobe, and you wince.

“My girl thinks she’s going to leave me for someone else?” Jungkook snorts. “Like I’d ever let that fucking happen.”

“I’m not your girl.”

You squirm, a bolt of awareness slicing through you as your body responds to his proximity, the weight of him over you electrifying. Liquid desire blooms behind your navel, uncomfortable and unwelcome.

“I never was.”

Blunt nails dig into the fat of your ass, and a cruel mouth latches onto the corner of your jaw. “Ah, is that right?” Jungkook asks, the rumble of his voice vibrating through your torso, your nipples tightening as they drag over the plains of his chest. “You’re not my girl?”

You swallow, and ignore the throb of your clit as the line of his cock ruts into you. “I’m not your girl, Jungkook.”

“If you’re not my girl,” he grinds into the cradle of your hips, teasing - taunting, “then why the fuck are you so wet?”

Keening, you twitch, involuntarily rocking up into the firm pressure of his shaft. The angle’s just right, spreading your folds beneath the thin cotton of your panties and giving your neglected clit the perfect stimulation.

Exposing your soaked core to the chill of your room as your body warms with mortification.

Jungkook hums in approval, giving the side of your neck a sloppy kiss followed by a stinging nip. “You think some nobody can fuck you better than me?”

“That’s not what I - ffuck!”

Heat pools low in your belly, blood pumping fast. You’re steadily losing control, the aborted rolls of your hips increasing in frequency.

“Answer me.”

A sharp burst of copper floods your mouth, your skin splitting open with how hard you’re chewing on it. Blood clings to the swell of your bottom lip, a ruby red bead you lick away with a nervous tongue.

Sweat dappled your brow, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the molten desire curdling your stomach.

The softness of your body knows the hardness of his, every curve has a matching divot. The heady, pleasant scent of his cologne floods your lungs with every stuttered inhale.

Your senses are overwhelmed as he surrounds you.

“Shit, Kook, please,” you plead, hands tangling in the sheets by your head.

You’re not sure what you’re asking for but at the same time, you’re not sure how you ended up here. Again.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

This was supposed to be an amenable end to a dubious affair. It’s anything but.

“I want you to tell me who your cunt belongs to.”

Fingers inch down to tease along the soft flesh of your inner thighs, and play with the elastic of your panties.

You tremble, gooseflesh dimpling the exposed skin of your arms as knuckles brush over the length of your soaked pussy.

Your clit pulses, the pressure enough to tease.

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook coaxes, working his way beneath the fabric clinging to your core, “tell me you’re my girl.”

His cock nestles into the crook of your hip, hot and heavy through his jeans as a darkened patch blooms across the denim crotch. The sticky wetness of his pre-cum smearing into your skin as arousal swells, crashing over you.

Leaving you a whimpering, trembling mess in the cage of his arms.

“You just have to say it - say you’re my girl and I’ll be so, so good to you.” His breath warms the shell of your ear. “All you have to do is say it, and I’ll make you cum so hard you see stars.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to cobble together a response, sliding a thick finger through your sticky folds and into your needy pussy just as your lips part.

All words leave you, your mind wiped clean as a low, broken cry echoes out into the room. Swallowed up by the sounds of city life outside your apartment as he works to stretch you open.

You clamp down at the sudden fullness, walls tight and fluttering around his finger like they would be around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You always feel so soft and wet.”

Whining in agreement, you give up any pretense of resistance, letting primal desire chase away the despair, the guilt that threatens to choke you. Wiping your mind clean of any thoughts until the only thing that remains is the thrust of his fingers and the ache in your cunt.

Your hands slip, scrambling for purchase with sweaty palms. “J-Jungkook!”

Your knees tremble where they dig into his sides, air rushing from you in heavy pants as the space between your bodies heats up. You know you won’t last long, already hanging on the edge.

Never in a million years did you expect to be so turned on by Jungkook’s rough behavior. He usually treats you like something delicate.

Though he holds no such compunction now, raw in his desperate desire to make you cum.

Jungkook peppers kisses onto whatever skin he can reach, spreading your thighs wider with his torso. His knuckles strain against the fabric of your panties, stretching out the cotton and ruining them forevermore as he slips another finger into you.

Then his dark head bows, catching your gaze, and he says, “Hold on.”

Barely seconds after you anchor yourself to his shoulders, he starts finger fucking you to within an inch of your life. His forearm ripples with strength, the movements of his fingers pressing and rubbing against all the right spots. Curling up to massage at your g-spot until you’re shaking beneath him with hitched breaths.

“Shit, shit,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as your toes flex against his side, “Kook, baby, please don’t stop.”

He huffs a laugh, dark and amused. “Wouldn’t ever do that to you, baby.”

“S’good - I - I’m close.”

You sob, tears brimming along your lash line. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your pussy ring in your ears, as embarrassing as it is arousing. He’s making you gush, slick wetting your inner thighs, dribbling down your ass to stain the sheets.

“So close, gonna - hnnng - gonna cum.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, baby. Give me that squirt.”

You shake your head. “I can’t - I can’t!”

If you could, you’d suspend time so this moment never ends. The finality of your arrangement hovering just on the other side of pleasure.

In the back of your mind, you know Jungkook’s only behaving this way because he’s jealous. Angry. He doesn’t mean it, and this is a mistake.

It’ll only hurt you in the long run but you’ll take what you can get.

After all, this is the last time you’ll be together like this.

“No,” he shushes, dropping a kiss to your sweaty brow, “No, don’t lie. I know you can. I’ll make you.”

There’s no escape.

He refuses to let you escape, using his weight to keep you pinned as he spreads his fingers open inside you, twisting and fucking so deep you feel a twinge behind your navel.

And then you’re right there, crashing over the edge as the bubble of pleasure bursts, crackling through your limbs.

You cum harder than you ever have before. Nails sinking into his shoulders with a hiss as a wounded, broken wail scrapes its way out of your throat.

Your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deeper as a rush of cum gushes from you in spurts. Your ears ring with white noise, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact your hands have gone numb.

For several long moments, you float with a head full of cotton, only rejoining the atmosphere when warmth dribbles down your ass in sticky rivulets of squirt.

Jungkook’s arm is curled around your waist, holding you close as his nose nuzzles into the side of your head. Tender lips dust kisses over your crown. His cock is still a heavy weight digging into your hip but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to relieve himself.

“Jungkook,” you sigh, a wave of fatigue crashing over you. Your eyes sting when you close them, a lump building in your throat. You ache all over pleasantly, satisfaction settling deep into your bones. In spite of that, a rift opens in your heart. “Jungkook, I--”

He kisses your shoulder, shushing you. “Don’t ruin it. Just let me hold you for a little while longer… please.”

The tears are almost impossible to stop. “It’s already hard enough, don’t make me -- I can’t just…”

Jungkook squeezes you gently. “I love you,” he says, “but I swear to god you can be so stupid sometimes.”

You jolt, eyes swinging up to meet his, wide and disbelieving. “What did you just  - I - I  don’t. ..Jungkook?”

“How could I not feel the same?” he asks, tone resigned and wary. “Honestly scared the shit out of me when I realized because, well, y’know I don’t have the best track record.” He averts his gaze, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I almost fucked everything up too, but Namjoonie-hyung helped me get my head on straight.”

Something unfurls in your chest, and you feel as light as air. Ridiculously buoyant with happiness. Hope.

Oh, how stupid.

“We’re kind of idiots, aren’t we?” you ask, sniffling as you shoot him a watery smile. “Like… the biggest.”

Jungkook hums in agreement, a boyish gleam to his eyes. “I mean, you said it. Not me.”

[metranart]

Jealous! Gojo Satoru

jealous! Gojo who ignores Geto's advice, to give you time to adapt and be friends first before starting to woo you.

jealous! Gojo who practically melts every time you bite the tip of your pencil while trying to understand something particularly difficult in class. 

jealous! Gojo who growls under his breath when he finds you in Nanami's arms after receiving some distressing news. Unable to think straight, gets dangerously close to lash out at the goodhearted blonde just to become an utterly inoffensive kitten, the moment he sees the tears in your eyes.

jealous! Gojo who not so discreetly asks for your number and pretends that it is for another reason other than his torrid crush on you but ends up sending you good morning and goodnight messages and all kinds of cat memes where he replaces the head with Suguru's photo.

jealous! Gojo who goes through your socials as soon as he has the chance and can’t help but grin like a maniac when he sees a picture of you. You have him at your mercy. You’re gorgeous, no! you are perfect to him! he just wants you all to himself.

jealous! Gojo who always tries to be one step ahead so that your missions are always with him, not with Suguru, not with Nanami, not with Yu...only with him, since if he is honest, he does not trust them around you.

jealous! Gojo who believes that he is slowly making his way into your heart, but he only ends up more madly in love with you, until one day he can't resist it anymore and holds your hand... and to his surprise, you don't ask him to let you go but just say adorably blushing: Your hands are so big and warm, Satoru.

jealous! Gojo who now walks hand in hand with you almost all the time, when you go to class, when he takes you to your dorm at night and even when Geto claims he's delusional, he insists, you guys are already dating.

jealous! Gojo who finally confesses his feelings for you and refuses to let you answer by kissing you, igniting a steamy hot make out session which leaves you breathless, whatever negative reply you had, its lost and even your reluctance goes to the back of your head, in order, to give him a chance.

jealous! Gojo who is over the moon, elated you ‘agreed’ and now you let him hold you whenever he wants. “Satoru, don’t be so clingy” Geto had said but he only stuck his tongue at him, every time the raven-haired tried to latch his hands away from you another came to replace it. Making Satoru smirk, wickedly. “God. Suguru, are you jealous?”

jealous! Gojo who slowly begins to let out his true possessive self, making comments about the most random things, like your skirt: "Isn't it too short, beautiful? I love it but I would hate for you to attract the attention of unwanted people" about your classmates: "I know that Nanami and Yu are your besties but with me by your side, do you really need to be so close to them?" slowly monopolizing your time for himself, after all he is not only your boyfriend but also your upper classmate, surely he only wants the best for you.

jealous! Gojo who literally breaks Naoya's nose when he blatantly hits on you at a meeting. "Back off, Zenin!" His eyes glowed ferally, to which Naoya just indifferently wiped the traces of blood with the back of his hand, tsking his tongue, nonchalantly. "She's not even THAT pretty, Gojo." All the available sorcerers had to separate them to prevent them from killing each other. You remember there being so much blood.

jealous! Gojo Who becomes even more jealous after that incident, scaring off any male that gets too close to you but claiming it's for your own safety, only those closest to him are allowed around but not for a long time.

jealous! Gojo who changes your mind with sex feats that blow your fucking mind away. "Nanami is my best friend, I’m going to the movies with him, period!" Gojo is bending you on his knee to spank that attitude out of you and when hears the first attempt of a sob, he pulls your panties down and massages the sore skin gently as he eats your pretty tight cunt until you are a shivering, moaning mess. "Suguru told me he saw you flirting with the girl tending the mochi shop" Gojo's pummeling his hips against your thighs, deep and steady, to make you forget his attempt to get free stuff, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh so loud and lewd that you even forget what you were complaining about, he’s fucking pounding your sensitive pussy till it’s puffy and leaking with his cum. He’s a little toxic like that.

jealous! Gojo who likes having you all to himself, he doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even Shoko or Mei, he loves you so damn much he could explode. He loves having you with him, having you on top of him, under him, against him. He's not your favorite sitting place but sure as hell, he always makes himself the only seat available. You actually don't remember how it feels to sit on something other than his muscular thighs… Shoko once said that he loves you more than is probably healthy to him.

jealous! Gojo who becomes more possessive with each passing day, growing more toxic and more aggressive when he believes that someone wants to take you away from him but loves you so, SO much that you can't help but forgive him every time, since he always promises that his blue eyes only see you, and so it will be FOREVER. You're not sure how you feel about the eternal part of that promise, but it certainly makes you feel like the most protected person in the entire planet.

I MADE SOME SICK SFW/NSFW ARTS FOR THIS DRABBLE, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. ;)

[chrollogy]

18+ MDNI; smut, porn without plot, unprotected sex, creampie, shameless oikawa brainrot, pathetic & subby(?) oikawa, he has praise kink, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (2), cowgirl, erotic asphyxiation (m), pet names (baby, my love). divider: cafekitsune.

notes: this is for my dear friend lexi @hanafubuxi :3 eheheheheheh pay back for that tsumu ask you sent <3

── you didn’t know how to describe the view before you . . heavenly? ethereal? lewd? hm. the list could go on, and on but there was one thing you were sure of—oikawa was as pretty as the first flowers of spring whenever he wore those infamous specs, especially with the apples of his cheeks painted the same hue as a japanese camellia.

erotic sounds of loud skin slapping, and dulcet whines filled the shared bedroom; the scent of passionate intimacy lingered in the heavy atmosphere, kissing your naked bodies in the form of sweat.

beneath you was oikawa—your lover—all in his bare glory; umber strands splayed across the soft ivory pillow beneath his head, displaying a faux halo, as though he was a heavenly being sent from above, divine, and all things pure; his naked chest subtly gleamed with sweat, skin peppered in hues of dark red, and purple. oikawa looked like an absolute mess with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and it drove you up the wall, clenching around his cock at the state he was in.

though, the cherry on top were the glasses he donned—all fogged up, and moist from the damp atmosphere of your shared bedroom. the frame crookedly sat atop oikawa’s pretty face, threatening to fall off with every merciless bounce of your hips. a glimpse of his eyes rolled back from ecstasy peeked beneath the translucent glass; god, he looked no better than a common whore from how good he was taking the sinful movements of your hips.

lightly circling your fingers around his neck, the bed frame creaked beneath your naked bodies, a light squeaking in unison with each eager bounce. with oikawa’s rosy lips parted, a series of colourful curses, and incoherent mewls slipped off his tongue, as your hips relentlessly moved up, and down, up, and down his hard cock.

fuck, just the feeling of your hand around his throat had him seeing stars.

slim, shaky fingers dug onto the feverish skin of your hips, a feeble attempt to slow your actions but you didn’t let up. instead, you took both of oikawa’s hands, and pinned them on either side of his face, interlacing your fingers with his own, and using them as leverage to angle your hips better.

the slight change in angle pulled a shaky whine from you, and oikawa, his head pressed further into the pillow beneath as the your warm cunt eagerly sucked his cock even deeper; kissing intimate parts of your velvety walls.

“f-fuck—! too much, baby, please. .”

oikawa whined, adam’s apple bobbing with every saccharine sound that slipped past his swollen lips; strands of umber that framed his handsome face were now stuck to his forehead. you let out a humourless laugh—one that had oikawa coiling in pleasure—and planted a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead,

“but you’re doing so, so well for me, my love . .”

a shameless moan in the shape of your name rolled off his tongue, handsome face contorted in pure bliss as he unexpectedly came at the mere praise that fell from your lips; oikawa’s fingers tightened against your own, a way to ground himself from the dizzying pleasure. whispered curses filled your ears as ribbons of hot cum painted your walls white, pulling a low whine from you at the familiar sensation.

oikawa’s mouth hung open as he gasped for air, immense pleasure that engulfed the entirety of his body becoming too much as the pace of your hips remained indifferent, effectively overstimulating him.

you could feel him attempt to pry off the weight of your hands against his own but the pleasure that gnawed at his bones had made his body limp; so, all oikawa could do was lay there, and take it all—the sinful roll of your hips, the ecstatic feeling that ate away at his sanity, and the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock.

it wasn’t long before oikawa reached another orgasm, this time, with you. curling over your body at the intense feeling, you babbled sweet, drunken praises against oikawa’s ear, gently nibbling at his feverish skin. the man beneath you let out a silent moan, hot tears that pooled his umber eyes rolled down his rosy cheeks, wetting his long lashes.

heavy pants filled the room as you, and oikawa stayed still for a moment, the cost of chasing pleasure weighing down on your naked bodies; a low whine slipped past his lips, sensitive cock moving against your cunt as you shifted atop him. oikawa’s thumb caressed the back of your palm, sleep slowly overtaking his body with each passing second, the sound of both your heartbeats lulling him to dreamland.

god, you never fail to drive him absolutely insane.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[topguncortez]

matt rempe with angst prompt “they’re lying to you” maybe she’s hughes sister and the boys don’t like her with a ranger player

Loving the Enemy - Matt Rempe

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration

synopsis: What was supposed to be an amazing night supporting her boyfriend's first NHL game, turns into a fight amongst siblings which leads to a broken heart. or in which Y/N Hughes is in love with the enemy.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: hockey inaccuracies, language, fighting, mentions of smut, break ups, angst

Being a Hughes sibling wasn’t easy. Being the only girl Hughes sibling was even harder. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a surprise, but your parents didn’t think that they would have a little girl after having three boys in a row. But you were their prized possession, and they would never say it out loud, but you were the favorite child. 

You were close with all your brothers, being the youngest, they had been absolutely enthralled with you when you were born. Quinn had always been more than delighted to be an older sibling, and having a little sister was like getting ice cream before dinner. Jack was a bit indifferent towards you until you were about thirteen and he had accidentally body checked you during a scrimmage. He instantly expected tears, like had happened anytime he accidentally (or purposely) bodychecked you, but instead, you hopped back up and delivered a high stick to him about five minutes later. 

But out of the three Hughes brothers, it was Luke, who you were the closest with. Only 18 months apart, some people believed that you two were twins. Not only did you both get the curly hair, but you both got the height gene that somehow missed Quinn and Jack. The two of you were also the quiet ones of the family, choosing to stick together and out of the spotlight. Luke was the first one you told that you didn’t like hockey, and you were the first one who Luke told he wasn’t going to go to the draft right away. But it wasn’t just the verbal communication that you two had, it was the silent glances and head nods that were understood from across the room. 

And it was because of that bond, that Luke knew there was something you were hiding. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something off about you. He could hear you late at night talking and giggling with someone over the phone. You had been coming home late at night, using some excuse that you had been out with a friend or studying at a cafe. He even noticed that you were wearing a shirt he had never known you owned the other day. And right now, he knew that you were hiding away in your bedroom, which was uncharacteristically off for you. Usually you loved sitting on the beanbag, making fun of him, Jack, and Nico for playing NHL. 

“Why is he here?” You whispered, peeking through the crack in your door, which gave you the perfect view of the living room, “I thought they were going to his place. Why are they here!?” 

A low chuckle sounded out from behind you, making you turn your head towards the tall, muscular, still half naked man on your bed, “And this is funny to you? You realize if they see you here, you’re dead.” 

“You don’t think I can’t fight them? Jack is what. . . five nine?”

You rolled your eyes, closing your door softly and walking back to your bed, flopping down next to him, “Five eleven and he’ll get out the measuring tape if you even doubt it.” 

He instantly pulled your body into his, making you rest your hand on his peck, “So, you’re telling me you’ve never had a boy in your room before?” A shit eating grin arose on his cheeks, making heat flood yours, “Are you saying that I took your precious-” 

“Oh shut up, Rempe,” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s not cause you’re a boy, it’s because you’re a fucking Ranger.” 

It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen. 

You were sworn enemies. Well, supposed to be sworn enemies. The rivalry between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers went farther back than you had been alive. The “cross river rivals”, just 10 miles away from each other. Though you hadn’t been a Devils fan until your brother Jack got drafted in 2019, and even then, you still kept somewhat mutual in your cheering for them. But when Luke got drafted three years later, you had sworn your allegiance to the team (even though you swore you would still put on a blue Canucks jersey to support Quinn. . . and even he knew that would only happen when the Canucks weren’t playing the Devils). 

You met Matt by accident. You had been leaving a coffee shop late after working on a research paper. Jack and Luke had told you over and over again to never go out walking in Jersey City alone at night by yourself. But you had never feared being out by yourself. There were plenty of times at UMich where you would leave the library by yourself and walk across campus to your dorm alone. Never had you felt terrified or in danger. But for some reason that night, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder. 

You had just gathered your things, ready to step out the door and head for the subway, when a voice in your head told you not to go. Your eyes had darted around the shop, looking for someone who you could sit with or strike up a conversation long enough for you to text one of your brothers to come get you. The shop was basically vacant, and the barista behind the counter looked like she was waiting for you to leave so she could lock up. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your backpack, placing your keys in between your fingers just in case. You had barely opened the door when someone placed their hand on your elbow. 

“Daphne? Oh my god, I thought it was you! How the hell have you been?” The man said to you. You could see it in his eyes he was begging for you to go along with it and there was something about him, that you knew you could trust him. 

“Kyle! Holy shit, where have you been!? It’s been what. . . four years?!” You said, overly excited. The barista from behind the counter cleared her throat, her eyes fleeting towards the clock behind her, “I was just about to hit up another spot, do you want to come with?” 

“I would love to, we have some catching up to do.” 

You felt a sigh of relief as you walked out of the coffee shop, the looming darkness fading away the further away you got, “Thank you for. . . that,” You muttered to him. 

“No problem,” He said back, “I’m Matt, by the way.” 

“Y/N,” You looked up at him, “I uh. . . I think I’m going to call an uber now or-” 

“I can take you. . . home. . .” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “God, I just saved you from one creep now you probably think I’m a fucking creep but I promise I just want to make sure you get home safe and I-” 

“It’s okay,” You giggled, cutting off his rambling, “I would like a ride home, if that’s not too much of a struggle. I trust you. . . even if I just met you.” 

You thought he was good looking before, but the smile that arose on his face amplified that by a thousand. His brown eyes were soft as he held his large calloused and slightly bruised hand out towards you, which you took without second thought. The two of you walked down the street towards a black BMW. You slid your backpack off your shoulder, and he gently took it from your hand, opening the door with his other. He jogged around the back of the car after tossing your backpack in the backseat. 

“Sorry if it smells like a gym in here, I usually hit up Blair’s after practice,” He explained, though there was no smell at all, probably due to the air fresheners he had hanging around his rearview mirror. 

“Smells like winter apple,” You said, reading the label, “What sport do you play?” 

Matt placed his hand on the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking space, and you hated how attractive that was, “Hockey.” A cough spluttered out of your lips as you choked on your own spit at his revelation, “What? Not a hockey fan?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. 

“Who do you play for?” You asked, ignoring his question. 

“Hartford Wolf Pack, but I got signed with the Ranges-” 

“Oh god,” You groaned, holding your face in your hands, “Of course, I was standing in Rangers’ territory.” 

Matt’s brown eyes glanced over at you before looking back at the road in front of him, “Well, I’m sorry,” He shifted in his seat, “Are you like an Islanders fan or something?” 

“Even worse,” You mumbled, “My hot knight in shining armor, turns out to be a Ranger, just my luck.” You sighed, “My brothers play for the Devils.” 

“Wait,” Matt stepped on the brakes, “Brothers? Plural? Are you related to the Hugheses?” 

“Those would be the ones.” 

Matt shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips, “Wow, really fucked up here didn’t we?” You couldn’t help but smile, “Well, Miss Hughes,” Matt said as he pulled up in front of the high rise apartment building, “Is it crossing enemy lines if I ask for your number?” 

You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “It is. . . but I’ve never been one to swear allegiance to just one place.” 

That night was six months ago, but for you it felt like it was just yesterday. There was a certain thrill about sneaking around with Matt, meeting when your brothers were gone or his roommates were out. You hated the rap he had developed in the AHL. He wasn’t the bad boy goonish hockey player with the fiery temper. He was a sweet, gentle giant, who loved to be the little spoon and have his hair played with. He sent you flowers and money to go get food cause he knew you forget to eat when you are in intense study sessions. Matt had become your everything in such a short amount of time, that you hated keeping him and your relationship from your family. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret on purpose, but you both decided it was going to be the best for both sides. Matt was starting his second season with Hartford and then moving up to play for the Rangers in the Stadium Series. For you, Luke was starting his rookie season, and you were doing everything you can to remain lowkey and out of trouble for his sake. Mentioning that you not only had a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend was Matt Rempe. . . the whole house would be flipped on its side. 

“I have something to tell you,” Matt muttered, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. You loved the way that one of Matt’s hands could encase both of yours. You looked up into his soft brown eyes, that you swear resembled those of a baby cow, “The Rangers called. . . they want me to play in the Stadium Series.” 

You gasped in shock, climbing on top of Matt’s lap and grabbing his face in your hands, “They want you to play!? Matt! This is amazing!” 

A smile crawled across his lips, “Thank you,” You watched as a shadow of doubt and unease filled his eyes, “I want you there.” 

“I’ll be there,” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll be the loudest one there.” 

“Oh you better,” Matt said, one of his hands gliding up to rest on your ass, the other one tangling in your hair, “You know I love you, right.” 

“I love you too,” You smiled. Those three words would never fail to put a smile on your face. 

“Good,” Matt smirked, “Cause right now, I need you to be very, very quiet.” 

— — — 

You didn’t really think it through when you told Matt that you would be there for the Stadium Series game. Not only did you have to sneak past your brothers to take the train to MetLife, you had to also sneak past your parents. Being the youngest of three boys, your parents had perfected the craft of knowing when one of their kids was hiding something. 

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Luke asked, standing in the doorway of your room. 

“Positive,” You did your best trying to pretend you were sick, “My body just aches and my head hurts. I think I’m getting sick.” You hated lying to your brother. You hated lying to any of your brothers, but especially Luke. 

Luke frowned, “I hate that you’re missing this dinner.” Nico had decided to host a dinner for all the parents, friends and family that came into town to watch them play in yesterday’s stadium game. You also hated that you were missing spending time with your family, but it's Matt’s first game. You weren’t going to miss that for the world. 

“Can you bring me back some fries?” You asked meekly. 

“Of course, ducky,” Luke nodded, using the childhood nickname he gave you, “Text me if you need anything.” 

You waited until the front door closed, before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. You threw on a pair of black jeans and a white Rangers sweatshirt. You finished the outfit with a hat and your coat, hoping to conceal your identity amongst the crowd. The train ride to MetLife was short, and you followed the crowd into the stadium. Matt had done good with getting you a ticket, sitting you a few rows behind the Rangers bench. You had gotten there in time to see them warming up, Matt’s large frame skating around the ice with ease. 

It was as if he could sense that you were there, his brown eyes searching the stands until he found you. He sent you a small wave, which made your heart flutter as you returned the gesture. He looked extremely good in his white Rangers jersey and the eye black on his cheeks. You knew how important this game was to him, not only was it his first game, but it also fell on the anniversary of his dad’s death. You knew that all he wanted in the world was for his dad to see him play the sport they both loved. 

Within minutes of the puck dropping, the Rangers took control. You felt the familiar anxiety that you would get when watching your brothers take the ice, when Matt got off the bench. You clenched your fists tightly as the Rangers moved down the ice, skating flawlessly and making a goal. You stood up and cheered with the crowd as the goal horn went off, high fiving strangers and screaming in joy.

However the giddy feeling quickly went away, as you looked back towards the center, and saw your boyfriend in a fist fight. You knew he was a fighter at Hartford, and it wasn’t your favorite thing about his hockey game. He was a gifted player, with the height and reach other players would die for. You hated that the Wolfpack had set him up to be a goon within his first season there. 

You watched with bated breath as the refs let him and the Islanders player battle it out. Punches delivered from both players, until they finally came to a draw. You shook your head as Matt raised his arms, trying to get the crowd fired up as he skated towards the penalty box. His first NHL game and his first five minute penalty for fighting. 

As Matt sat down, taking the bag of ice from his trainer, he turned to scan the crowd, looking for you. He easily spotted you, standing out amongst the crowd as you gave him a look. 

“You okay?” You mouthed and Matt nodded, holding up his bruised hand. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pay attention,” and pointed back to the game. Matt smirked, giving you a mock salute before turning back towards his team on the ice. 

When the game ended, in a Rangers victory, you left quickly. You wanted to stay and see Matt and hug him, but you knew that you would be cutting it close to when your brothers and parents would be back. You settled for sending him a text, and telling him you would come over as soon as you could to help celebrate with him. 

The apartment was dark when you arrived back, your siblings still out at the dinner with the team. You let out a sigh of relief, dashing back to your room and changing back into your pajamas. By the time you had settled down and turned on some cheesy romcom, the front door opened and the familiar sounds of your brothers and parents filtered into the apartment. 

“Ducky!” Luke shouted. 

“She’s probably sleeping, asshole,” Jack scolded him. 

“Don’t call your brother an asshole,” Your mom chided. 

“Ducky!” Luke called again, “I got you fries!” 

You giggled, pushing the covers back and going to greet your family. Their smiles were big and comforting as you sat down at the island, opening the to-go container of fries. Jack filled you in on everything you missed at dinner, your mother sitting behind you and playing with the ends of your hair like she used to do when you were younger. It felt like old times, the only person missing was Quinn. You knew he was doing great things out in Vancouver, but you missed having him around. The facetime calls weren’t enough. 

“So what did you do tonight, duck?” Your dad asked. 

“Oh uh,” You cleared your throat, “Just watched some movies and slept.” 

“You missed an exciting hockey game,” He said, “That Rempe kid is going to be a menace.” 

“Yeah,” You tried to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “I’m gonna go back and lay down, still not feeling the best.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Your mom squeezed your shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning.” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, maybe we can go to that bakery on the corner-” 

“What the fuck were you doing at MetLife?” Luke’s cut you off. You looked at him, your heart thundering in your chest. 

“I-I wasn’t at M-MetLife,” You cursed your nervous stutter. 

“Bullshit,” Luke cursed, putting his phone on the counter, and clear as day there was a picture of you, in your white Rangers sweatshirt, sitting behind the bench, “I thought you were sick.” 

Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at your parents and then your brothers, “I’m sorry.” 

“Why did you lie, Y/N?” Your mom asked. And suddenly you felt like you were a child all over again, being scolded by your parents. You hated getting in trouble, you hated looking at your parents and seeing disappointment in their eyes. The only time you ever really cried was when you were in trouble. 

“I. . .” You huffed, “I went to watch Matt play in his first NHL game.” 

“Matt?” Luke asked, “. . . Matt fucking Rempe?” You nodded your head. You felt your mom shift behind you, her stance going into protective mode, “Why the fuck would you go watch Matt fucking Rempe play-” 

“Language, Luke,” Your mom spoke. 

“Because we are dating.” 

Silence spread across the kitchen for a moment, before laughter sounded out. A cruel sounding laughter as you looked at Luke. It was the fake sounding, teasing laughter that made you feel like a child. 

“No you’re not,” Luke shook his head, “There’s no way.” 

“Why?” You asked softly, “We’ve been together for six months.” 

“No,” Luke chuckled again, “You aren’t dating him. You are not dating a hockey player, let alone one that has more penalty minutes than time on the ice. You aren’t dating him, you might be fucking him-” 

“Luke!” 

“But you aren’t dating him.” 

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks, “He loves me.” 

“Yeah and when did he say that? Before or after you fucked-” 

“Enough!” Your mom stood up, her hands on the counter, “Y/N, you shouldn’t have lied to us about going to the game. If you wanted to go to support Matt, that’s all you needed to say,” You nodded, looking down at the counter, “Luke, you do not get to say those things about your sister and her relationship. You do not get to say those things about any woman for that matter. Now, apologize.” 

You looked up at your brother, expecting to see remorse in his eyes, but all you saw was anger. Luke looked at you, before grabbing his phone and going to his room. You closed your eyes, feeling regret and guilt rising in your body. You mom put her hand on your shoulder, as a small sob left your lips. 

— — — 

It had been two weeks since your fight with Luke. Your parents had flown back to Michigan, leaving Jack to play the mediator between the two of you. Your mom had not so secretly texted Quinn to tell him what happened. He had called you the night after they left, which led to another tearful confession about your relationship with Matt. Quinn, being the big brother that he is, said he was upset that you felt like you couldn’t tell him about your relationship, but was nonetheless happy for you as long as you were happy. 

But you weren’t sure if you were happy. Luke had refused to talk to you, or even be near you. If you entered the same room he was in, he would leave. He wouldn’t fix you a plate of food like he usually did, or tell you when he was leaving for the arena for a home game. He wouldn’t even respond in the groupchat when you would ask him a question directly. 

But your strained relationship with Luke wasn’t the only relationship on the rocks. You hadn’t talked to Matt since the night of the stadium series. He had sent you countless text messages and left voicemails. He even went as far as sending flowers daily to the apartment, which Luke would toss out if you weren’t quick enough to grab them.

You were laying in your bed, half watching an episode of Bridgerton, like you had been for the past two weeks. Normally, you would be out in the living room with your brothers, but your bedroom felt like the only safe space in the entire apartment. You could hear the occasional shout or jest from your brothers as they were playing some video game on their night off. Beside you, on your bedside table, your phone buzzed for probably the tenth time this evening, another missed call from the same person. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing. You knew it was hurtful to string Matt along like this, but you also didn’t have the heart to break up with him. These past two weeks had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and to even think about living a life without him in it hurt too much. 

You let out a slow breath as you closed your eyes, listening as the buzzing of your phone finally stopped. However, the loud sound of knocking pulled you from your moment of peace. 

“Did you order something?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded out. 

“No,” Luke said back. There was shuffling as the front door opened and the knocking ceased, “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Why the hell are you here?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Your heart sped up at the sound of the all too familiar voice. You quickly jumped up from your bed, opening your door and running to the living room. There in all his tall glory, stood the man you loved, “Y/N.” 

It felt like the air had been drawn back into your lungs as you looked at him, “Matt.” 

“I uh. . .I just needed to see that you were okay. You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts,” Matt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at you and then your two brothers, “I’m gonna go now.” 

“Wait,” You said, taking a step forward, “Can I talk to you?” Matt nodded his head, looking like a lost puppy dog. You looked at your two brothers, “Can I talk to him alone?” 

“Yeah, c’mon Moose, we got game film to look at,” Jack said. Luke looked Matt up and down once, before letting him into the apartment and following his older brother down the hall towards the office room. 

You silently walked over to the couch, Matt following behind you. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, before you broke the ice. 

“Do you love me?” 

Matt’s head snapped towards you, as your eyes looked straight ahead at the tv, “What?” 

“Do you love me?” You looked over at him, “Do you mean it when you say-” 

“Yes,” Matt answered quickly, “Yes, I do love you. I mean it every single time I say it. Why are you asking me this?” 

You shook your head, “Luke said something and I-” 

“He’s lying to you,” Matt moved from the couch to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his, “I love you, Y/N Hughes. I know we’ve only been together for six months but it’s been the happiest six months of my life. Not even hockey fills me with the joy as being with you does. So yes, I love you. I love you so fucking much.” 

You sniffled, tears falling from your eyes. Matt quickly wiped his thumb over your cheekbone, “I’m sorry. I. . . It all fell apart so quickly. Luke found out I lied and went to the game, and then he got so mad. I didn’t want to have to choose between-” 

“No, you shouldn’t have to choose,” Matt said, tears brimming his own eyes. He was silent for a moment, warring thoughts in his head as he thought of what to say, “It would absolutely break me to pieces, but I won’t be the reason why you and your siblings don’t talk anymore. I. . . I can’t do that to you.” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” You gasped. 

“I don’t want you and Luke to not talk to each other because of me.” 

“No,” You shook your head, “It will be okay, I promise. He’ll get over it.” 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “I know your family means everything to you, and I can’t stand to be the one who ruins that. I’m so, so sorry,” Matt leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll always love you. No matter what. You are it for me.” You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth, “Goodbye Y/N.” 

You sat there, unmoving as Matt stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes fluttered open at the sounds of your brothers' footsteps, moving towards you.

“Are you happy?” You sneered at Luke, “He broke up with me.” 

“Ducky-” Luke sighed. 

“No,” You stood up shaking your head, “The love of my life just walked out the door because he knows that I care too much about you and your opinion. So Luke, are you happy?”

[venusbyline]

I dropped your hand: Boyfriend!Nate Jacobs x Female!Reader

-> SUMMARY: ❝ Nate knew he was a fucking coward who didn't know how treating you the way you deserve. ❞

-> heyyy i wrote this while i watched the All Too Well: Short Film (by Taylor Swift), so i did it based on that AMAZING dialogue between Sadie Sink and Dylan O'brien. it's definitely my favorite mv since the release.

⚠️: Angst and Fluff, Open Ending, arguing, cursing, gaslighting mentioned, established relationship, Nate's typical sexist thoughts, unhealthy relationship, Nate's a bad boyfriend (as usual), Based on a scene from All Too Well: Short Film, no use of y/n.

"Fuck... are you kidding me? Stop looking at me like that, that's so fucked up." Nate grumbled hoarsely the moment he watched your pretty eyes fill with tears.

You pretended being tough and you snorted then, turning your body to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, starting to wash the makeup that still remained on your face. But Nate knew you better than anyone. He knew your mask of indifference just didn't match those reactions a little while ago. After all the yelling, you had no reason to lie and pretend like you didn't even want or need an apology.

Nate knew he fucked up everything at that party. He shouldn't left you alone surrounded by other drunk stupid guys, the ones you didn't even know. He also shouldn't ignored you when you sat next to him and his friends. But the worst moment was when he dropped your hand and mocked you as a fucking clingy girlfriend when you tried holding his fingers again.

Damn, he shouldn't have done a lot of things. He knew he had been an asshole to you. He was an asshole to a lot of people, but at least he used to try his best not to disappoint and hurt you. Something he failed most of the time... like that night.

"Hey, hey, hey! C'mon, baby... You know I don't wanna fight with you, princess." He tried hard to hide his trembling voice, his throat burning from drinking hours before and then yelling aggressively at you, also gaslighting when you tried to explain your feelings.

"Nate..." You warned as he hugged you from behind, his strong big body practically covering yours, putting his arms around your collarbone in an soft way so he could kiss the top of your head and look at you two in the mirror at the same time.

"I'm sorry, baby... I dropped your hand." He left a kiss on your hair, enjoying your shampoo's good smell and kissing there again. "Hey... I'm serious, okay? I'm really sorry, princess."

He gently took you by the shoulders to turn you around and face him, so he could dry your crystal tears with his long fingers, seeing you give him a slight embarrassed smile. Nate felt his chest ached with fault at not being able to let off steam.

He would always rather you crying because you thought you weren't good enough for his womanizer but rigorous bad boy reputation, than admit that he was only afraid of looking like a vulnerable and weak man around the other people... a hopeless romantic, madly in love with you. Nate Jacobs was a fucking coward and he knew that.

[rizsu]

"suguru, shoko... it's been nice knowing you guys. i always loved you both. please, tell y/n i loved her too, yeah?"

it's a tense moment. after satoru received your social medias, he did some snooping around and found the harsh truth — or so he calls it. comparing himself to what he found did nothing but install a depressing, hallow sadness into his system.

"satoru, get the fuck down from that chair," shoko's having none of it. the moment she glimpsed group-chat's notification she practically teleported to satoru's. her heart dropped, palms got sweaty, throat dry at the thought of satoru ending his life. when she arrived, suguru was already there, weeping for his dear friend's life.

it must've been serious, right? it wasn't.

what came into her vision was a grown, silver-headed man standing on his desk chair. around his neck held one of his ties. now, this is where it got unserious. everything seemed true until shoko's eyes traveled to satoru's neck. his tie was wrapped around it with his very own hand holding the longer piece of the tie.

in short, he's fucking dramatic. suguru doesn't fall far, too. it must be hard on shoko for being the only one with a decent brain... kind of.

"shoko, how can you be so... so mean?! he's dying over there! your own friend!" suguru wipes his tears, furious at his other friend's own indifference to such a sight.

"don't," she begins, walking to satoru's position to kick him off the chair. "don't piss me off."

satoru's now on the floor; laying on his back, body straight, arms clasped on top his stomach. this must signal his final moments. it's peaceful in his mind.

"satoru, i swear to god. get the fuck off that floor." she nudges his body with the front of her shoes, eyes twitching at the foolishness.

it takes a mere minute before satoru's tired of ignoring the obnoxious foot harming his body. so he sits up, hanging his head low.

"i just can't, y'know? it hurts," his voice cracks, radiating sadness throughout the room. his words receive two varying responses.

from suguru: "it's okay, satoru. there are many other fishes in the sea."

from shoko: "this is why you mind your business sometimes."

at shoko's response, he sighs loudly, "it won't kill you to be nice, shoko ieiri."

she sits on his bed, placing a pillow on her lap, fixing her posture, and re-positioning her imaginary glasses. "well then, satoru. tell me what you felt, what you saw, and what you think. you can let it all out to doctor shoko."

suguru stifles a laugh, eyes switching between shoko's new persona and satoru's defeated expression.

"okay, doctor shoko. i felt horrible — no, nauseous. i went through her followings and saw that she follows other men. she knows other men. i'm sick to my stomach," his rant begins. it all started when he decided to go through your profile. this meant snooping through followers, followings, tagged photos, and even comments. you both are in — what the youngsters call it — a talking stage.

there are no labels within this relationship, nor are there any confirmed feelings but this? this betrayal? what do you mean he's not the first man on your profile? this is devilish. all went well until he saw one specific comment that said: "baby you're so sexy ily," to which you replied: "i love you more."

the fiend ( as he calls them ) had the profile photo of a man. when he did the internal math, the unbearable truth was found. he is not the only one you're talking to. he feels hurt.

suguru, too, shares his friend's pain. shoko, however, doesn't. why? it's because the commenter was in fact not a man. had satoru did deeper research, he'd have known that the profile photo is the famous singer the weeknd, and the profile belongs to one of your girls who's a diehard fan of him. well, who's shoko to tell the truth? she'll wait for satoru to come to a realization.

[r0ttenhearts]

wasted on you |||

idol scaramouche x reader

part Ii

“ohmygosh, have you heard 4nemo’s new single?

“it’s sooo good (y/n!) you have to listen to it.”

“who’s your favorite one? mine would have to be scaramouche.”

your smile would always falter at the mention of his name. not like your friends ever knew you were acquaintanced with the idol group. “i don’t really like idol stuff, it’s not my thing.” you would always brush them off, refusing to take one of their earbuds to listen to the songs they wanted to show you.

hearing scaramouche’s voice again wouldn’t help you, not when you’ve gotten this far. not when you’ve moved on from him.

with college exams over and the end of your final year coming to a close you found yourself with nothing but time. with time came too many thoughts that would tumble around in your mind. too many what if’s and what could have been’s had plagued your mind since leaving scaramouche there backstage.

leaving him was so difficult, but being without him felt harder. you couldn’t help but sigh, now sitting alone in your room as the memories came back to you.

memories of splitting popsicles with him, after rehearsal drinks with his friends, smoking in a field together one of the rare times he was free from his filled schedule.

sometimes you couldn’t help but miss it. but then came the.. not so pleasant memories. the tears, the sore throat after screaming at each other, the way he’d always leave after an argument.

“please, scara! i just want you here with me. just this once. it’s been three years. give me this at least, please. i haven’t seen you in so long.”

remembering your own pleads to him never failed to make your heart ache. it still felt as if there was something unresolved, even after giving him his engagement ring back.

“i don’t wanna fucking see you (y/n)! id rather spend time with my friends doing something i enjoy than wasting my time with you.”

here comes the waterworks. tears would prick in the corners of your eyes when you remembered his tone that day. that angry look on his face.. he never looked so bothered before. it scared you so much that you still remembered it now, two years later.

it was strange seeing him on billboards and ads all across town and even on your own phone. in contrast to the angry glare he held for you, but an indifferent look to the public. would he still look at you that way? or would he look at you the same way he would everyone else?

curiosity got the best of you as you tapped on your phone, looking up his profile on instagram. there he was, looking the same as ever. maybe a little thinner but he still looked as beautiful as the day you left him.

a small smile graced your lips for a moment before it fell, seeing how much fun he had been having with his friends. you still kept in contact with kazuha, but never bothered to ask about him. you both knew it wouldn’t be good for you, so it was an unspoken rule.

“at least he’s doing well..” you mumbled to yourself before shutting off your phone. groaning internally, you knew this was a problem you had to deal with. this constant turmoil inside your head.

you decided you’d put an end to this. once and for all. you thought up a plan before texting kazuha, telling him what you wanted to resolve. despite his gentle warnings you wouldn’t listen. you just had to get through to him! make him understand your reasoning.

eventually kazuha gave in, and now you were standing in the pit to one of their concerts. it made you feel queasy remembering the last time you attended one. with your head hung low you waited for the group to start, they were opening for another up and coming idol group. it almost made you smile seeing scaramouche walk on stage with that glittery white outfit. the same glare on his features as before. he didn’t change, did he?

that sentiment making anxiety well up inside of you. you didn’t know how he would take it. seeing you again after so long. but you didn’t want him to know you were there to begin with, so you hid away from view, angled at a way that you could still watch them perform.

watching them now reminded you of one of the first concerts you ever went to of theirs, thanks to scaramouche getting tickets for you. that feeling of bubbling excitement and anxiousness when they were still so early in their career. you used to genuinely hope that they would make it, and they did!

his singing was stronger than it used to be, voice full of emotions as his eyes were fixated on the mic. a part of you missed this. coming to his shows, watching him give his all to the crowd of people that came just to see him and his friends.

as the group left the stage you sent a text to kazuha, walking away from the crowd and to the meeting spot he had told you about. it wasn’t like you didn’t already know where they were going, they always went to the same bar after every performance.

pushing open the grimy doors to the bar, you could see his back as you walked in. scaramouche was sitting at a table with his friends, drink in hand already as you walked up to them. you pulled out a seat next to scaramouche, crossing your arms over your chest as the guys looked at you excitedly, scaramouche not sharing the same sentiment.

“hey guys, long time no see.” heizou laughed loudly, patting scaramouche on his shoulder as they left the table. now it was just you and scaramouche.

he held this look of shock on his face, like he’d seen a ghost. his mouth slightly opening and closing, almost like a fish.

“hey.” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. “are you real?” he asked you, now looking directly at you rather than trying not to meeting your gaze.

“of course i am, what do you mean by that? have you been dreaming about me too?” you ask, half joking but half serious as he had been plaguing your dreams for the past few months.

“don’t say things like that (y/n)..” he spoke quietly, taking a sip of his beer. you nod silently, watching him take a sip of his drink.

“i know, this is kind of weird. especially since i’m the one that left you but, it’s been haunting me. and i just want to talk.” you admit to him, looking down at your hands. suddenly your nails seemed much more interesting than to look at him.

“yeah, i think we’re due for that.” he said before sliding his drink over, taking your hands in his without warning. “look, (y/n). i know that back then i wasn’t great to you, far from it actually. i’ve thought about what you said to me that night ever since. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor am i asking you to get back together with me. but i just want you to know that i’m sorry. i regret wasting us, wasting what we had. i do love being an idol, but it doesn’t give me the same satisfaction as i got when i was with you.”

you nodded silently at his words, looping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. the words you had longed to hear were now finally being said. “that’s all i wanted.” you spoke quietly in his ear, your voice cracking with tears. “i just wanted that from you scara.”

you wiped your tears away as you pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “i want to be in your life again, not as lovers, not yet. but as friends. i’ve missed you all this time.” scaramouche nodded, taking his free hand and placing it on top of yours. “i can work with that.”

what you both didn’t see were the rest of the boys from 4nemo watching the scene unfold from the bar window. heizou’s loud cheering being shushed by xiao as both of your heads whipped to the window, red covering your faces in embarrassment.

taglist: @lemons4u @foxkunwoof @s-h-i-r-o-8-1 @felixilations @kaxukaxu @angelofdarkness2 @trxshhsstufftatsumimiko @ycugtf @nervouseaglelover @whorerificstuff @samarill

[madame-fear]

Hi, can I please have an orange americano + red velvet? (Modern!jace fic based off the song “play date” by Melanie Martinez where Jace hasn’t been treating the reader well and she wants to leave him but she can’t because she loves him so much. Can it have a super angsty ending pls) (also, I’m the anon from before. I was asking if I should put iced coffee + orange americano 💗)

���� ⸻ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄.

i don’t give a fuck about you anyways, whoever said I gave a shit ’bout you? // you know i give a fuck about you everyday, guess it’s time that i tell you the truth

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : my darling nonnie, thank you for the wonderful order! i truly hope this was what you expected,, and overall, carries as much angst as you hoped for. I did my best to end it as angsty as possible! ♡ ⟶ check amira’s coffee shop masterlist. 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. ∿ request above! 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 1.1k (apologies for the short length! I am getting back my inspiration very slowly but surely ;;__;;)

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. purely angst. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. modern!jacaerys velaryon x gf!reader.

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; jace being a bit of an asshole (sorry pookie bear!) and kind of ignoring you, veeery slight mentions of cheating, and brief mentions of you arguing.

The line continued to ring almost endlessly, as you kept calling Jace over and over. The track of time managed to easily slip through your fingers each time you attempted to call him, being of no use at all in the end. Hours passed since Jace told you that he would be going to a friend’s party, and a mix between concern and disappointment filled you.

At the moment, the faint ringing coming from your phone was the only sound heard echoing across your room, accompanied by a sigh spurring from you; a sigh expressing both frustration and a growing dismay, fueling your previous disappointment. A knot had formed on your throat, almost choking you, as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. This wouldn’t be the first, or last time that it happened— you were often left hanging, no matter what you did.

All the effort you put, only for a hanging line sound to beep a few times against your ear once again. Like it always did.

You firmly nibbled on your lower lip, fluttering your eyes shut— a burden heavily sat on your chest, almost tightening your breath. Inhaling deeply and in a shaky manner, you effortlessly threw your phone on the bed, and allowed the weight of your head against your palm devastated.

What had you done to deserve such treatment, you wondered? When you offered nothing but unconditional love and devotion, you were paid back with excruciating indifference. And what about his sweet words and kind treat he used to woo you with? In the end, you seemed to be nothing but a play date for him— something for Jace to have fun with for some time, while you were wrapped around his finger. A mere play date is what you felt like, and he proved it with his behaviour.

It didn’t matter just how hard you tried to become indifferent towards him, how you didn’t give a shit; how your head tried to wrap itself around the idea of breaking up and leaving him, as you should— but something always held you back. Ceaselessly, you had attempted to convince yourself that you were far worthier than the pain Jace bought you, but you were foolish enough to stay in your place for your undisputed adoration towards him.

That undisputed adoration was the same cause for you to remain right where you were, withholding you. Jace bought you pain with the way he so blatantly opted to ignore you, and was often seen partying with other girls— but the pain would only be greater if you broke up with him. The idea of leaving his side was bitter, almost poisonous.

You did love Jace most dearingly, but you were just a toy for him to play with. One that chased after him desperately, being at his disposal whenever he wished; and coming to terms with that was no easy task— in fact, you refused to believe so. Many of your friends insisted on the fact that you should leave him for your own mental wellbeing, but you just couldn’t. No one could understand how much effort such simple — and neccessary — decision took.

“I can’t be by your side all the time, (y/n)! I’ve got things to do!” you remembered him shouting at you in frustration, before he left with some friends. That had been one of your many fights, and they were all about the same topic— him seeming to care very little about you. Jace’s excuses were that studying and working were draining, consuming all his time and energy to spend any of them on you.

“I’m not asking you to be with me all day long! All I’m asking is that you show that you do care just a little bit, instead of ignoring all my efforts and go partying with a bunch of other girls!” as you shouted back at him, your own voice was frail and quivery, poorly attempting to not start crying right in front of him. Whether he spent every passing second of the days by your side wasn’t the true matter— it was the lack of appreciation towards how you continously remained faithful and adoring to him, you seemed to only matter whenever he felt like it.

You understood, and you never overcomplained about the responsabilities that came day to day, as you had your own work and studies— but you had grown tired of understanding and remaining silent, when you were well aware that all his spare time was spent on hanging out with his friends, and being on parties surrounded by other girls... Mostly, spending time with Baela, one of the girls from his friend’s group.

Everyone suspected that Jace hung out with Baela behind your back, as more than just friends— but you preferred to play dumb and look elsewhere, as much as the thought painfully weighed on your conscience; because you knew all those suspicions were true.

You were treated as a fool, used for mere fun. What fun was there in being with someone just to be chased after and play with their feelings? You were tired of understanding and saying practically nothing at all. Not caring was difficult when all you hoped for, was for the immense devotion you offered to be reciprocated.

Faintly beginning to sob, tears escaped from your eyes, leaving a hot wet trail behind as they rolled through your cheeks— hiding your face in your hands, choking on your own tears. Overthinking never did any good to you, but who could judge you considering the place you were in? The situation was almost too overwhelming to bear. Sorrow and disappointment asphyxiated you constantly, leaving you burdened with your own thoughts. Had you done anything for him to not show an ounce of love for you, despite your attempts in making him feel cared for?

“He clearly doesn’t respect you. Why don’t you break up with him for once?” but it was easier said than done, when no one was in your place... When you wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing. At times, you felt your own idea of love was far more different than the rest of the people— and you blamed yourself for idealising someone who tossed you away, toying around with your feelings.

You were just a play date for him, while he was the person you adored the most despite all the pain his presence bought in your life. And all you felt you could do, was swallow the bitterness that came with your relationship— attempting to drown the constant rising thoughts of breaking up with him, knowing it would hurt far more than having your efforts to show genuine affection passed unnoticed.

You wanted to leave, but it felt almost as if you were trapped in a labyrinth— and your own silly devotion was at fault, when you knew he cared very little whether you remained with him by his side, or not.

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[satoruhour]

reader x toji where they hav an argument nd the reader dresses slutty and suddenly has plans at the club w her friends. but toji doesnt like that 🫣

a/n: IM HERE . IM HERE SORRY IVE BEEN RB-ING SO MANY THINGS !!!! but i promise im writing hahahaha. but also i dont owe anyone an explanation! enjoy anon!

wc: 1.4k

warnings: toji picks ur lock w/ a bobby pin lol, reader is a little mean LMFAO but #valid, dom!toji, pussy drunk tojiiiii, implied overstimulation, oral / cunnilingus (from the back + face-sitting + lying on ur back), exhibitionism? (reader is on call with her friends but her girls don’t know she’s getting eaten out!), implied unprotected p -> v sex @ the end, implied creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“yeah— but you didn’t have to say it like that!” you huffed out at your boyfriend, or so you thought, because you probably had read too much into this relationship, heart tearing apart when toji simply said he was with his woman, with benefits while on the phone with shiu. 

you tsked when toji opened his mouth to explain, a distraught expression on his face that implied it was a slip of his mouth but even then you were relentless about the simple slip-up that meant a lot to you. it wasn’t often that toji had anything but an indifferent expression on him and you’d relish in his panicking face with a smug grin if it wasn’t for your rage.

“stupid fucker — still thinkin’ i’m just some bitch he fucks like he doesn’t whine for me in his sleep,” you grumble to yourself mindlessly later, phone blowing up from the messages from your friends while you scour through various outfits that slowly flood your bed. 

No way he said that!!!! Wtf???? Who does he think he is?

let’s bring u out tonight babe. wear sum cute

yeah!!. Let’s get ur mind off of that lame fella . he still kinda hot tho…

it’s messy and there’s a continuous clash of colour with each skirt or top you pull out and you groan in annoyance, so you take a shower — and it’s not all that better either, mulling over that dreaded sentence while lathering yourself up, while washing it off, getting dressed. it pisses you off so much that a man’s words can affect you so much, but that’s the price you pay when it comes to toji.

the toji who gives you a crushed, bloody bouquet after coming back from one of his dangerous missions, the toji who grumbles while he pushes the last nugget in the mcdonald’s box toward you despite loving it, the toji who likes to feel your body against his because he’s said that the mere sensation of you pressed up against him is enough to make him cum.

you scoff when you hear a knock on the door, in the midst of pulling an extremely short skirt up your hips with your ass basically peeking out from under it, paying it no mind before securing a tube around your bust.

“shut the fuck up!” you bark back when toji knocks again and there’s silence altogether, rolling your eyes when there’s a dramatic sigh from behind the wooden door and your feet naturally has you swerving away from the bed to open up the door, if not for the call from your girls that come in. the ringtone echoes throughout the room, distracting you from the professional work being done by toji with one of your bobby pins.

with phone on the bed, it’s led to your ass being propped up while you’re on your hands, butt facing the door with a full on display of your miniskirt and the very lacey underwear toji’s gotten for you for your anniversary. it was a petty move, you know — everything felt right when you pulled the material over your legs after your shower, not expecting yourself to pick up such a revealing bottom.

but now you know everything definitely felt right when those panties pooled at one of your ankles that hang off the bed while you’re trying not to whimper into the call with your girls who’s just so excited to see you. it’s a wonder they haven’t already heard the sloppy noises of toji eating it from the back, hands gripping onto your ass cheeks so hard they form bruises and you don’t have it in you to give a fuck when the other licks a hot, long stripe up your folds.

“left the house already, hon?” one of your friends ask and you’re gripping so tightly onto the phone that it hurts a little, not missing the way toji mumbles out that your pussy tastes as sweet as ever.

“uh— ah! n-not yet!” you squeal when toji smiles into your cunt and you absolutely hate how your hips shimmy toward him instinctively when your boyfriend pulls on your thighs to bring you closer, “i’ll leave soon, o-okay— mm—”

“babe?”

“okay bye!” you panic and press the large red button, hanging up immediately before your moans increase in volume immediately and your head dips into the bedsheets. the man eats pussy like a starved man, slobbering over your pussy while his nose just takes in your scent and arousal — something that’s gotten him hooked since day one. your leaking hole, your sensitive clit, your twitching thighs. god, toji loved every part of you and he was determined to fuck you better than a friend with benefits.

“’m sorry baby, mmfhh—” toji grunts into your core, “any chance ya could forgive your old man?”

the hold on your pride was getting looser and looser while your hands only clutch the sheets tighter and tighter, whimpers turning into a borderline scream when the man manoeuvres himself under you and yanks you down onto his face. your arms support your limp body instantly, hips moving with their own mind as you grind into toji’s tongue with breathless pants, rolling your pelvis over him and he groans at the feeling. toji doesn’t care that your miniskirt is in the way, eyes peeking out from the fabric and flitting over to you and your breath hitches cause you know he’s serious in earning back your forgiveness.

“not when— haah… you’re still saying i’m just some— w-whore you fuck.” you’re still a little bitter, but toji below you is enough to make you clench around nothing, high already approaching when he switches between sucking and nibbling and flicking his tongue at your bundle of nerves. 

“slip of the tongue, i promise, doll,” he talks into your drooling pussy, the vibrations sending chills up your body, hands flying to his hair to grab onto toji’s hair and pulling, “you’re my cute lil girlfriend, aren’t ya?” you hate how easily you nod your head, “mine to fuck, and mine to eat out, yeah?”

that sentence alone has you needing to lock eyes with toji just for a moment to see his lips curl up slyly, bottom half of his face soaked with your juices that your stomach contracts a little at the sight, a weak whimper leaving your lips.

“yeah…” you mumble out breathlessly and that’s all it takes for toji to go back to eating, quickly bringing that burning coil in your tummy again while slurping up your arousal. the room feels so hot and you’re sure you’re sweating through your outfit that you so carefully picked out that you’re peeling it off your body. your lover only wraps his larger arms around your thighs when he sees that your pretty tits are out, intoxicated on the thin layer of sweat lining your body and the curve of your upper body.

“toji, toji, toji—” you’re chanting his name like it’s a mantra, dizzy from the constant abuse toji does to your clit, pleasure shooting through your body when he moans around your cunt and you’re cumming with a moan of his name, thighs shivering around his head that he only laughs, humming into your core while you soak his sheets and skin. you’re just about prepared to get fucked when you catch a glimpse of toji’s hand palming his bulge, but that isn’t what toji has in mind when he changes positions again.

“taste s’good, baby,” toji groans, pulling apart your thighs that close from the sensitivity, “let me eat ya out until i’m forgiven.”

and all he can do is stick to his words whenever after each orgasm he pulls from you, you’re shaking your head like you’re saying you aren’t forgiven and he figures out your game soon enough, but whatever his girlfriend says, it goes. it’s just like that for toji who worships every part of you, a mistake rewarded well later when he taps his fat, leaking tip on your cunt and slips in easily from how many times he’s made you cum, reaching nirvana just from hearing your still-loud mewls leaving your worn-out body.

it’ll be something that will be burnt into his brain, forever, but toji doesn’t have time to think about that for now, so he just fucks you like he thinks a sorry man should fuck — deep into your cunt with the promise of being better and the need of giving you everything you ask for, even if it’s something as simple of wanting his cum in you.

whatever his princess wants, his princess gets.

i cannot go a day without mentioning breeding omfg im actually deranged

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[macsmoods]

can I request a hobie brown x fem! spider person and they kinda adopt miles and gwen. They see them and they’re like “yep these are our kids now.”

FOUND FAMILY

Hobie Brown

Summary: You and Hobie have been together for about 6 months now. When Miguel introduces everyone to the new recruits there’s an immediate liking between the 4 of you. Soon you and Hobie find yourselves becoming protective.

not edited—requests:open ——————————————————————— •“I’m excited. It been awhile since we got new recruits” you said excitedly walking to the conference room. You hands were locked together as you swung them back and fourth.

“Me to. Hopefully there not jack asses like the last to.” you nodded in agreement as he finished talking.

You flashed Miguel a smile which he, obviously, didn’t return. You sat down next to Hobie. You leg bounced up and down nervously as you waited for miguel to begin.

“Calm down darling.” hobie said placing a hand on your knee. Although it had been half a year of being together he still found simple ways to make you blush.

“Alright let’s begin.” miguel yelled out. “As you know we have 2 new recruits. They will be treated with respect and won’t be treated indifferently. Understood?” he said looking at Hobie.

“He touched my hair alright. What i did was in the right. Plus he only fractured his wrist, nothing worse” a hobie explained hand in the air in defense.

Miguel rolled his eyes before beginning again. “Alright please give a warm welcome to Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy.” Everyone watched as they walked in.

Gwen was short and had shaved part of her head. It seemed it had been died with different colors. Miles seemed tall enough with a black and red suit.

You watched as Miles gave a timid wave seeming nervous while Gwen smiled confidently.

“Ok go sit down.” Miguel said in a bored tone. You waved them over to the seats next to you.

They walked over sitting. “Hi i’m y/n and this is my boyfriend Hobie.” you said extending your hand.

They both shook it smiling back. “It’s nice to meet you.” gwen said. You took your focus back to miguel. You grabbed Hobies hand with a smile as you sat next your new friends. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•“Gwen! Get down from there people are staring!” you scolded as the blonde stepped off the table. “It’s not a joke Gwen you could get hurt.” Gwen and Miles laughed as you and Hobie glared.

“ok mother dearest.” gwen retorted sarcastically.

“I swear they never listen.” you whispered to Hobie. He grabbed your hand squeezing it.

“It’s ok darling. It’s just a phase.” you smiled at that. Quickly it was wiped from your face as you heard a gag.

Miles and Gwen were faking vomiting. “Ok guys real mature.” Hobie said.

“Bye mom. Bye dad.” They said leaving the table.

“Get back here now!” Hobie yelled. You gripped his hand as they walked away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ • “What were you two even thinking!” you said slamming your hands on the desk. “First you leave this dimension without telling us an then you show up at a fight you were told not to be at by multiple people.” you yelled.

“You could have gotten hurt, or worse killed. So not only would you cause great grief to me and y/n you would also be causing a huge disruption in your dimension!” Hobie yelled.

Gwen scoffed at that. “Would you like to say something?” you snarled.

“This is bullshit! You aren’t are parents so stop acting like it. We are adults who can make are own decisions.” Gwen yelled. “Cmon miles we’re leaving.” They both stood up.

“No i don’t think so! Get the fuck back here!” you yelled but they were already out the door and down the hall. “fuck” you whispered.

Hobie pulled you into a hug kissing your head. Hot tears spilled on your cheeks. “Are we really that bad Hobie?” you whimpered.

“No baby. It’ll take some time before they realize why we’re here. We may not be there real parents but they need someone to take care of them here.” hobie said.

He leaned down attaching your guys lips. “Cmon we have to get to the meeting.” you sighed.

You walked down the hall making it to Miguel’s office. Both you and Hobie stood in. the corner ready to listen.

“There’s a new anomaly!” miguel’s voice echoed through the office. All the spiders went quiet. “For this mission I will need Y/n, Hobie, Gwen, Miles, and Peter. B. That is all. The following people will be debriefed by me. Others please make your way to Lyla for further instruction.”

Your squad walked towards Miguel as he sat atop at his desk. The tension was high as you watched Gwen and Miles move further from you and a hobie.

“There being jackasses. Don’t let them bother you.” Hobie leaned down and whispered. You smiled as Miguel began.

“This new anomaly is one we have seen only few times. The plan is simple. Take it down. We leave right now.” at that Miguel stepped into the portal. Miles and Gwen quickly followed leaving you, Hobie and Peter entering last.

Immediately you saw them already fighting. Quickly running you began to bring civilians to safety. Miguel and Peter could handle the anomaly.

You and Hobie worked together swinging grabbing anyone they could bringing them to safety. Gwen and Miles were doing the same, well you hoped they were.

You noticed a small child in the middle of it all scared. You swung and ducked grabbing him by his waist lifting him into the air. You found a safe place where people could help him.

Running back to the scene you noticed it had quieted down.

“damn that was a quick one.” you commented walking up to Hobie. His eyes were glossed over. “Hey what’s wrong hun.” you looked in his direction to see Peter and Miguel trying to move a bus.

“Hey what’s going on.” you yelled running over. You attached webs attempting to help.

“Gwen. Miles. Bus.” miguel muttered.

“no, no , no!” you yelled. You pulled and pulled Hobie joining. “God damnit you stupid kids!” you’d creamed. With one last pull the bus flew out of the way.

You and Hobie ran towards them pulling rubble off them. “Miles, Geen cmon let’s wake up ok. Your gonna be okay. It all gonna be fine.” Hobie pleaded shaking them. Your eyes blurred as you watched.

“Y/n, Hobie.” Gwen choked out.

“Oh my poor girl!” you cried throwing yourself around her. “Oh Miles!”you yelled embracing him as he sat up. Hobie wrapped his arms around you guys as well.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry i’m a horrible person. All the shit i said. We really do see you as our parents. We need you guys.” Gwen cried.

“shhhh it’s gonna be ok. We are all ok.” Hobie whispered hugging everyone even tighter. ———————————————————————

Authors note

This was so cute to write. Such a fun request hopefully i delivered it well. Should i do any other fandom one shots? ( ex. obx,marvel,etc.)

sincerely,

macsmoods🌊🫧

[str4ngr]

was it worth it?

k. sakusa. | my drug, my addiction.

cw: angst no comfort, foul language, ooc/ dramaticized his 'germaphobia' for the plot, no established relationship, first date, gn! reader. wc: 670. notes: so... write a comfort or not? not proofread.

Everything felt a lot colder now. The A.C. of the diner, the cushion of the seat you sat on, the iced coffee you drank.

Sakusa had gone to the restroom, grumbling about needing to wash his hands. You had barely touched, let alone grazed, his hand when you leaned over to grab a ketchup packet. It was the same, always like this. Of course he would be disgusted by you, utterly revolted.

⋆

Komori was the one who set you two up, being friends with you, he told Sakusa he wanted him to "expand your social circle!"

Komori was far too nice. He was, truely, a kind soul, who probably meant no harm when he added in his offer to Sakusa,

"What? C'mon! I'll buy you a meal if you can last a full date."

So he went. Maybe it was against his morals. But he went. He watched you order. He watched you go and wash your hands. Fuck, you even bought him those cute mini hand sanitizers as a gift for him!

Sakusa felt like utter shit that he couldn't even handle an accidental touch from you as he scrubbed his hands. It wasn't like you were nasty, or dirty, but he couldn't fight is need to.

⋆

Your brows were pinched together as you slowly ate a fry, unentertained and, frankly, ashamed. Your food felt like a waste because of how your stomach twisted in disappointment. What could you have expected? The name 'Sakusa Kiyoomi' has always been associated with a cold stare and crude words. So how could you come to the conclusion that he would be any different because his cousin offered a blatantly false idea of a date?

You sighed as you wrapped up your sandwich, placing it back in your bag along with your fries. You quietly waited for him to return.

⋆

Sakusa finally returned, pale fingertips pruned and flushed as he sat back down across you. His eyes met yours as he asked, his tone lacking any merciful softness,

"What?"

It was sharp and quick, your lips pursed and your eyes fell from his face,

"Why?"

One word conversation were weird. While saying so little, everything meant so much. Just like now. Neither of you said it, but it was obvious. You knew, he knew, and now you were both stuck in limbo of discomfort and disappointment. His eyes snapped to your repackaged food, and they widened. Your phone was no longer on the table, your coat was back on,

"Wait— What?"

Sakusa's voice was more desperate. What was happening? What mistake did he just make? He watched how your eye brows pulled tighter and he wished he had the strength to pull them back to when they were smiling.

Was this attraction? Sakusa couldn't tell. But, he could say his stomach dropped when you held your take out bag a little tighter. He heart beat in his ears as your voice shook,

"You... don't want to be here, right?"

Sakusa sucked his cheek in, face tight. That wasn't a question he expected. He was hoping this would be like those interviews, What's your volleyball position? How did you become one of the best aces? Blah. Blah. Blah. It wasn't, and now Sakusa had to decide whether to give into the saddening curve of your eyes or deal with Komori's teasing. His answer was no. Truthfully, but he needed to say yes.

"No."

The word falls from his lips and he watches as your expression becomes tighter. His fingers twitched on his lap and Sakusa wished he could've been kinder. He won't tell you, he won't weigh you down further than his indifference already had.

"Then it's okay. We can just end it here."

He could tell your smile wasn't real. He could tell you struggled to push those words past the lump in your throat. He felt the same. Sakusa Kiyoomi truely wasn't such a merciless man, and you capture a glimpse of his guilt as he breathlessly whisper,

"Okay."

notes: exhausted. jaded. in tears.

[folkookie97]

❝ hating you's the only way ❞ — JJK

— SUMMARY: ❝Loving you hurts so bad. Jungkook finds a better way to try lessing the pain. ❞

— PAIRING: boyfriend!Jungkook x girlfriend!reader

— TYPE: angst | non-idol AU

— WORD COUNT: 547

— WARNINGS: Inspired by Hate You (Jungkook), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Jungkook is bad at feelings, Mean!Jungkook, Mentioned Kim Taehyung, Curses, Argument.

— NOTES¹: that's my Jungkook's fav song <3

— NOTES²: it's crossposted on my ao3 account in Jungkook's version, but also in a JJ Maybank (OBX) version.

— RELEASE DATE: November 09, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"What did I do wrong?"

The words left your mouth after an absurd amount of time in complete silence. Such a long absence of speech while you remained sitting on the couch, your eyes looking at your boyfriend and searching for any answer.

His indifference remained implacable and causing pain in your heart. "Jesus! You don't even care about our relationship."

It wasn't a question. But the confident statement at least caused a reaction from Jungkook. "Oh, so now we're talking about who really cares about this bullshit? 'Cause you don't even seem caring about us when you're looking at Taehyung with your fucking puppy eyes." He chuckled, even though his sentence wasn't actually sarcastic. "Fuck, (Y/N)! He's my best friend. You really think I wouldn't realize what you were trying to do?"

Your eyes widened, getting up from the couch so quickly that you made a loud noise. Jungkook still had his body fixed on the armchair in front of you, but you saw him shiver slightly.

"You crazy? I never thought anything like that about Taehyung!" Your throat burned at the volume of your voice. "Or anyone else!"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, starting to anger at your frustration. "Stop yelling. The world doesn't need to know that my ex-girlfriend is a whore."

Your eyes filled with tears at the venom present in his words.

If anyone else said that, you would get angry and trying slap them for such audacity. However, he was not just anyone. He was Jungkook. Your Jungkook. Your perfect boyfriend. Your boyfriend who hugged you during night storms. Your boyfriend who liked teaching Korean cooking recipes, no matter how bad you were cooking some of them. Your boyfriend who liked spoiling you with cute gifts every month.

Your boyfriend who called you "my little one" and "my princess". That Jungkook would never call you a "whore." He would never accuse you of something like that.

"Why are you acting like this? Why are you being so mean and accusing me of things I never thought of?" You let out a sob. A sob so sad that it soon turned into an avalanche of tears.

Lowering his head and swallowing hard when you starting your crying fit, you heard the last words Jungkook spoke to you before the official end of your relationship. "Stop crying, you're just making me hate you even more."

And when he walked quickly out of your house to get on his motorcycle, Jungkook knew he was just a coward guy. A guy who was afraid of love.

He chose painting you as the villain in your relationship. He chose to believe that you were telling lies from the beginning. He even chose to believe that you were thinking about kissing his best friend someday.

Jungkook was too afraid of love. Because it hurts. Loving you hurts him so bad.

Even though you two weren't perfect, you came very close. He couldn't afford to unexpectedly lose that. The thought of the possibility of you one day deciding to end everything literally killed him inside everyday.

If he were the one to destroy the relationship, maybe the consequences would affect him less. He would at least be ready, right?

Maybe hating you's the only way it doesn't hurt.