#anyway. stay lonely it's hot

[crowlixcx]

Broadchurch | S3EP4 | Alec Hardy’s Wettest Moments (Part 83)

[floral-hex]

Okay okay, I usually hate posting selfies, but then again, I also love a little mild attention. So, to strike a balance, here are 4 recent ones, but I’m posting them at 2am so I don’t have to worry about bothering too many people. Yeah? Ok thanks I love you

[thelov3lybookworm]

My World

Day 1: Cool quiet.

Summary: Y/n's in labour. Azriel needs to stay calm.

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Word Count: 805

Warnings: labour ig? azzie being scared and sad cus yn is in pain :(

A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF @azrielappreciationweek YALL WOOHOOOO 🥳

all fics in the week will be like a series cus theyre all revolving around azzie and his daughter hehe but it isnt a series ig?

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

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Rhysand did not see the shift in his spymaster. Did not see the way he stiffened, the way his eyes went distant before focusing again, fist clenched.

He said no words, nothing to indicate he knew his mate was going into labour. And if the meeting with Keir had not ended when it had and Azriel hadn’t immediately winnowed away without preamble, Rhys wouldn’t have even known.

Even when Rhysand and Cassian followed their brother to his house on the outskirts of Velaris, welcomed by agonising screams of Azriel’s mate, Rhysand saw him stand quietly in the hallway.

Rhysand could not fathom being that cool, that quiet if he knew Feyre was in labour.

He had to give it to Azriel, the male was great at hiding his weaknesses. And Rhysand would have been convinced he was still composed had he not seen that in the dark corridor, light glinted off of the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Azriel still did not move, standing still against the wall with his hands folded behind his back.

It shook Rhys more than him pacing and losing his mind would have.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to curse himself out loud. After all, he was the reason his darling mate was going through the pain of birth.

Should’ve resisted when she said she wanted kids.

But alas, it was now too late to do anything but stand here helpless as he heard her loud cries of pain from their bedroom.

"I- Azriel! Az-"

It took all Azriel had in him to stand outside while his mate, his wife went through unbearable pain he knew he could not even fathom of. Having your privates stretched while you had to push out a literal being was something he knew his worst wounds would look like paper cuts in comparison.

It made him respect females more at the moment.

Through the bond, he felt flashes of hot agony and cold pain, but he was aware it was nothing, nothing compared to what his mate was going through.

The door opened the slightest bit, the worried eyes of an apprentice healer peeking out. "Spymaster? Madja said you can come in to soothe your mate."

Instantly, Azriel was hurrying inside the room, his eyes finding his mate lying on the bed.

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

But how could he, seeing as the one person he could ruin the world for, was sobbing, tears running down her face in constant streams, aided by the sweat gathering on her skin?

He hurried over to her side, her palm instantly finding his.

"My love, I’m here."

She gasped in pain, nails digging into his palm.

Cool. Stay cool. It will be fine.

"Just one more push dear, then you can rest."

Azriel turned his head to Madja when she said that, relief spreading through his veins. At least the torture Y/n was going through would be over soon.

Y/n nodded, meeting Azriel’s eyes. Even while she was pushing out their baby, she found it in herself to offer him a weak smile.

Be calm.

Not even a moment after Y/n dropped back down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, loud cries filled the room. Azriel leaned down, placing his forehead against his mate’s. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired.

"No more babies. Y/n, I’m telling you, I cannot see you in pain."

Y/n had the audacity to pout. "But what if our baby gets lonely?"

He shook his head, kissing Y/n’s cheek. "I won’t let them get lonely."

He straightened when he heard footsteps approaching, lifting his head to look at Madja, who grinned at them over the baby’s head. "It’s a daughter."

Tears gathered in Azriel’s eyes as Madja leaned down, his daughter’s face coming into view for the first time. Azriel could not look away.

She’s beautiful.

Her eyes are so pretty.

She stared back at him with wide eyes.

Don’t cry. Stay calm. Stay quiet.

Fuck calm. Fuck quiet.

He let the tears fall as Y/n placed a hand on his arm, telling him to take his daughter. And even though he did not want to taint the pure soul made of him and his beloved, he extended his arms. Y/n had had the time of months to scold and train Azriel to not be scared of his own child.

The moment Madja stepped out of their room, Azriel let out an involuntary sob, accompanied by a look in his mate’s direction, who was crying too.

"I love her so much."

She nodded, giggling. "Me too." After a pause, she continued. "Hazel. That’s what we decided."

He nodded, unable to look away as he leaned down to press his lips to her tiny forehead.

"My world."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orcs house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do next.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots and grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter. Come afternoon, and you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew tightly inside and his flask, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety. You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it too runny? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered, he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an Orc and plops another spoon full onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the Orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an Orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it? He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section and point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks which seem a darker green than before.

After that you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

<- Previous

[kooktrash]

guys my age | jeon jungkook

summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration

warnings: 9.5K words. smüt. 6 9 position [ oral f & m receiving] use of protection. roūgh missionary. they go like three rounds. reader gets on top. dirty talk, use of ‘little girl, slüt, etc but lightly] y/n is a man eater lowkey. jk wants to resist but he can’t lol. y/n is rich and spoiled, Y2K style. big bOobs lol. y/n is besties with jk’s daughter. stays at summer home. y/n is a cöçk tease. always teasing him. lawyer jk, with tattoos and piercing. y/n has bellybutton piercing

song inspo: cola — lana del rey [i got a taste for men who are older] affection — abra [did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?] guys my age — hey violet

Illicit Desires | DILF!Jungkook collab

The blaring sun burned against your skin, your patience running thin the longer you waited outside. A key was being jammed into the doorknob with no luck to actually get it to function. You were tired, hot, and hungry—never a good mix when it came to your mood. Your feet hurt from the kitten heels you wore and the black handle of your suitcase was getting hot with the summer heat.

“Hurry up,” you whined, a manicured hand with long pink nails waving in an attempt to fan yourself. Only seconds later the click of the lock was heard and the door was opening. You and the person in front of you groaned in relief and you were trudging inside the large house you’d be spending your summer at.

“My dad’s not home so we’ve got the place to ourselves for a couple hours, what should we do?” Your friend, Jieun, asked once the two of you made it to the stairs to take your things to her room. You gave a shrug in response, “I don’t know, I’m hot, I can’t think.”

“Oh, so you think you’re hot?” She joked with you knowing that was not at all what you meant but you winked at her anyway. Your gum smacked with each chew as you looked around her bedroom that looked fit for a teen which made sense since she’s been rooming with you in the dorms for the last two years.

“I thought you didn’t like your daddy,” you were teasing but also serious when you sat on her bed, skirt shifting to show more thigh. Jieun just sighed, opening her drawers to pull out a bikini, “It’s complicated. The divorce with my mom was ugly and it was only three years ago. I was a teen so I held a lot of resentment toward him and her.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cheated?” You asked curiously as she passed you your smaller bag for you to fish out a bikini. Jieun nodded, “Yeah, I know but my dad was always busy. Always gone for work and I don’t know, 17 year old me wished he was around more so she wouldn’t feel so lonely.”

You let the subject go in order to change out of your clothes that had been way too hot for the heat and into something way too small. A hot pink bikini with small triangles covering your breasts and a small pair of bottoms with silver links to hold it together. Jieun directed you outside and she went to get drinks and snacks for you two before joining you. You managed to pull a heart shaped floaty toward you and laid inside of it with your legs hanging out the side and a cherry coke in your hand.

“Is your dad hot?” You asked looking over your sunglasses as they hung low on your nose bridge. Jieun rolled her eyes as you passed her the donut floaty.

“Don’t ask me,” Jieun said as she finally made it on, “And leave my dad alone, the old men you like are sad.”

“Whatever, I was just asking,” you laughed, “And I’ll have you know I prefer them younger.”

She just rolled her eyes moving next to you and the two of you floated in the pool for a good while before dropping yourselves into the cold water. You played only one round of mermaids until you swear you died and came back to life.

At the sliding door stood a man, a very attractive older man dressed in a forest green matching shirt and shorts that could pass as pajamas. His shirt was slightly transparent but unfortunately you couldn’t see much. He slid the glass door open coming out with a pair of black sunglasses that he pushed up to his hair. Jieun turned to look at what you’d been staring at and she waved a hand, “Hey.”

The man’s eyes swept back to you, “Hey.” Jieun swam to the edge of the pool pulling herself up with absolutely no grace and pointed to you, “This is my roommate Y/n, she’s staying with us this summer.”

“Oh really?” He asked looking to her, “I don’t remember you telling me about this.”

She just shrugged, taking her towel and stretching one out for you to grab. You dragged yourself to the edge of the pool before placing your hands on the edge and pulling yourself up in one go. You didn’t notice the way Jieun’s dad watched the water cascade down your breasts to your stomach and thighs until you dragged yourself up. You took the towel from Jieun and dried yourself off looking back to him, “Hello Mr. Jeon, I’m Y/n, Jieun’s roommate for the past two years.”

You placed your hand in his as greeting and he gave it a firm shake, “Call me Jungkook, has Jieun gotten you set up in the guest room?”

The three of you went upstairs and for some reason you felt the need to walk with a sway in your steps knowing Jieun’s dad was behind you. You also knew you shouldn’t be doing that in just a towel and very skimpy bikini but you didn’t care. You knew in the back of your mind Jieun was one of your best friends and thinking her dad is hot should be weird. You also knew you were going to do what you want anyway and if that was planning a little game for the summer you were going to do it.

In truth, you were a very spoiled person. You came from money and your dad never thought twice about doing what you wanted so obviously you would be spoiled. You didn’t care about the consequences, you just did what you wanted because it was fun. It wasn’t going to be anything serious anyway and it’s only your first day staying here and you had to entertain yourself some way if Jieun wasn’t around.

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr. Jeon, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go for the summer,” you said once it was just you and him after getting changed. He was bringing in blankets and pillows for you. He stopped to look at you, eyes threatening to trail down your body again but he forced himself to only look at your face, “It’s no problem, did your parents not let you stay with them?”

“They’re away for the summer,” you told him leaning against the back wall as he put the bed sheets on the bed you’d be sleeping on, “They didn’t want me in that big house all by myself for three months.”

“Maybe they don’t trust you,” he said with a small smile trying to make himself feel comfortable around his daughter’s friends. It is very hard to not think about the girl in his house that was so physically attractive it had him anxious. It just wasn’t a good idea to think about a girl his daughter’s age. You had no idea he had these thoughts, all you knew was that you were in the mood to talk, “They don’t, I’m not always the best behaved.”

“In my house, I hope you’ll behave,” he let the words slip before he could stop himself. They sounded more flirty than he meant them to when in reality he just hoped for no trouble with you. You weren’t making this easy when you tilted your head to the side and batted your lashes, “Keep a close eye on me and maybe I will.”

Jungkook seemed to freeze for a moment, his hand fixing the fitted sheet and using his sudden tension to stuff the fabric into the frame. It was silent and when Jieun came up looking at you, “I ordered pizza.”

“Yum,” you smiled cheerfully, “Are you joining us, Mr. Jeon?”

You stood at the doorway facing the stairs but turning your head back to look at him. He was already walking behind you and when you got to the stairs, his hand touched your back lightly. He stared forward, looking distant as he said, “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” With that he looked to you quickly before looking ahead.

The first few days you barely had a chance to see him, you mostly hung out with Jieun and went out with friends. He was up early and got home late so you didn’t see him often. Tonight though, you’ve gotten lucky. Jieun has a date tonight with her boyfriend and she’d be staying the night at his house. Now you would be home alone until Jungkook came home and sometimes it’s not till late evening.

So you spent pretty much all day, after noon, by yourself trying to quench your boredom doing anything you could. Now you’re outside again tanning by the pool, or attempting to. The sun was already setting so there wasn’t much left and yet you remained outside.

“Jungkook, man, are you even listening right now?” A voice boomed through the speaker of his cellphone. He could barely make out the person’s voice as he held his phone away in a trance. His attention was elsewhere, somewhere he shouldn’t be focusing on, but he was.

It was hard not to stare at the view just on the other side of the sliding door. This time you were in yellow. A bright pastel that had a silver heart ring holding your top together at your breasts. From here he could see the belly button ring you had and you just looked… like sin. He was too lost to notice the way you pushed your glasses down to stare back at him. It wasn’t until you gave a little wave that he snapped out of it.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he muttered back to Taehyung as he went back to the kitchen to at least pretend like he wasn’t watching you. It was wrong, you were his daughter’s age but you just looked so damn good. And you know you’re attractive, you know that just one look and someone would squirm and currently that’s him. He has no business being 38 watching a girl who is barely 21 and thinking about the way your bottoms hugged your ass that he catches himself looking at from time to time.

His hand ruffled his hair in an attempt to shake the thought of you away, “But I should go, I’ve gotta start dinner.”

“Oh, but I wanted to know how it’s been having Jieun back? Does she come home for dinner everyday?” Jimin asked, still trying to keep a conversation going but then you came in. The tiniest denim shorts on with the button and fly open showing off your stomach and a small triangle of the yellow bottoms. You seemed to forget a shirt, sauntering into the kitchen in just the tiny bikini top and shorts, a pretty smile on your face, “You’re home, I was feeling lonely.”

His phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Snap out of it, Jungkook, he’s reacting nervously around you and he shouldn’t.

“I’m about to start dinner,” was all he said to you before continuing his conversation with Jimin, “It’s been good but she’s not home today. She’s spending her night with Yoongi.”

You sat at the island leaning against the marble counter, pressing your chest into it and his eyes flickered to the way they seemed to bulge even more than usual. Oh God.

He could see small, hard buds through the fabric, “Jimin I’ve gotta go, I’m going to start cooking.” He needs a cold shower, like now.

“Or we can order,” You said once he was off the phone, “I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard… what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Day?” the word came out in a stutter that had his neck heating up in embarrassment. Why was he getting flustered? He’s had very little interaction with a woman consistently, aside from the women at work and they were nothing like you. They wore gray pencil skirts and white button ups—not yellow bikinis where he could see your hardened nipples poking out. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t had opportunities to date in the last three years but with his divorce and busy with work all the time he didn’t go out. He was a boring man in his eyes.

You flashed him an innocent smile that he’s not sure he believed, “Then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight, a thank you for letting me stay. Should I call and order?” Unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth, he just gave a subtle nod.

“I’m going to shower while we wait,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. You told him okay, ordered, and then showered yourself.

For dinner you had Italian and you were fully dressed now—still not enough for his prying eyes—but enough for him to focus on his food. He hates to admit that he’s way too curious tonight to ask questions, “What are your thoughts on Yoongi? Does he treat Jieun right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a light bite on your lip, “The sweetest, perfect for her.”

“For her? Wouldn’t everyone want a sweet guy?” He’s not sure why he asked or why he was curious to see what you’d say. All he knew was that his plate of food was no longer being eaten, and instead played with by scraping his fork against it. He avoided your eyes and you loved every second of it. He was just so cute getting nervous by a younger woman like you. It’s just too tempting to wanna make him squirm. A big, bad man like him falling underway by your teasing.

“I like them a little meaner, a little more authoritative,” you said looking up at him, “Like the ones who can put me in my place when I’m being difficult.”

“Hm,” he hummed in thought looking into your eyes, “Difficult?”

“Yes, I have a tendency to want what I want and find a way to get it,” you told him, voice more assertive, “And if I don’t get it, I become a huge brat.”

“So someone who can handle you?”

“Yes, but I’m a lot to handle, Jungkook,” you said his name laced with lust and if he said it didn’t go straight to his flaccid member, he’d be lying. He took a big drink from his glass of wine, “I’m sure someone is up for the task.”

“I hope so, I can get very impatient,” you raise your glass to your lips to drink, your eyes locked with his. With that you stood up with your plate, “Are you done?”

He gave a silent nod, not trusting himself to bite back a comment about how he has no patience for teasing. He’s not even sure those would be the exact words he’d say, or if he’d say how capable he is of putting someone in their place. You took his plate and washed them before excusing yourself to your bedroom to answer some call. He caught a small glimpse of the name already calling you and it was a man.

It’s been two weeks. Two hard weeks of forcing himself to not think about his daughter’s friend, but it’s been so damn difficult that you’re clouding his vision. All the looks you sent his way whenever you were with Jieun or the little comments you’d make that had his head spinning in guilt and lust. It’s been too long since he’s slept with a woman and anytime he sees you, he’s reminded of it. Like right now.

He was supposed to be working on a case with his partner, Namjoon, but he was distracted. They worked at the kitchen table but then you came in with a short, fitted black dress that barely covered your butt. Even Namjoon seemed to turn and stare when you opened the fridge and bent down at the waist to look inside. Jungkook’s head rested on his palm as he watched, half hoping your dress would rise just a little more but it didn’t, sadly. He was supposed to be doing all the paperwork that laid across the dinner table, not stare at you rummaging through the fridge.

You pulled out a bottle of pineapple juice, sipping from a straw as Jieun came down just a little more dressed down as she asked, “Is he almost here?”

Jungkook snapped his attention back to you in confusion. Is who almost here? “Are the two of you going out with Yoongi?”

“I am, Y/n’s meeting up with a guy, so lucky you dad, you might get the house to yourself,” Jieun said putting a hand on his shoulder waving a greeting to Namjoon, her father’s friend.

“Don’t miss us too much,” you teased, making him look back at you. “How well do you know this guy?”

“Just enough, we had a couple classes together,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders still sipping on the pineapple juice. He’s sure the taste of the fruit would remain in your body for hours.

Jieun laughed, “Y/n doesn’t need to know him well for her plans tonight.”

You sent her a wink that Jungkook caught and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t feel… jealous? Upset? Annoyed? All of the above? He doesn’t want both of you gone, he’s gotten used to a full house and he doesn’t want to feel lonely again. Jieun he can understand, she’s seeing her boyfriend but you… you’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligation to another man so why can’t you stay home. Despite all the women who notice him, he seems to have a love/hate relationship with the attention you gave him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with you in that sense, but the other was enough to boost his ego. Despite his age he was clearly attractive enough to gain the attention of a 21 year old used to college guys. So, no, he doesn’t want you to go out with one of those guys and remember that Jungkook was a boring lawyer and father of your friend.

“Well he’s outside,” you said looking at your phone, “I guess I’ll head out now.” Jieun joined you when Yoongi sent her the same text and you two were leaving.

“How are you living with that unaffected?” Namjoon finally said once the two of you were out the door. Jungkook shook his head, “I’m not.”

Long after Namjoon left, Jungkook found himself still awake working in his office. It had to be around midnight and he didn’t feel tired, he felt anxious. It stresses him out because why on earth does he feel anxious? He should feel relieved to have time to himself but he doesn’t. He’s currently staring at the clock every five damn minutes. Jieun won’t be coming home, he knows that, but now it looks like you aren’t either.

He shouldn’t care about his daughter’s friend but something about you just draws him in. You were like a succubus in his eyes, a beautiful girl who can draw anyone in and even he fell victim to it. It’s so wrong, you’re too young, you’re his daughter’s friend. But you’re so damn enticing, like every little thing about you. From the way you chew your gum while looking at him to the sway in your hips when you walk. The way you batted your pretty long lashes when you’d ask how his night went. You make little comments that he swears were suggestive that he knew he shouldn’t like, but he does. It makes him blush, honestly.

He knows he’s an attractive man. He’s fit, he’s got the looks, money, age. He has tattoos and piercings and he’s clean. He knows that women at the store try to flirt with him in line. The ones at work always have some favor to ask or some help they need. When he’s at the gym he feels eyes on him but none of it matters. Jungkook has thought about going on dates when he’s been asked and lately he’s been thinking about trying again but he just doesn’t know if he should.

At his age, is it even worth it anymore? His wife of eighteen years cheated on him just three years ago. He doesn’t think about her outside of when it has to do with Jieun but still. That’s the last woman he’s been with, it’s not like he’s your age.

You’re young and a very attractive person. You’ve got the smile, the confidence, the looks, the humor. Honestly, he could go on. He’s thought about it before, you have a way of drawing someone in and clearly it was true. If you’re on a date then obviously you know how to get someone interested, especially if Jieun always jokes about how you string these boys along. Actually, he’s not even sure if what you’re doing now is part of the date.

It’s too late for dinner. That could only mean one thing, you were probably at the guy’s place or maybe a hotel room. If that was the case then clearly you could only be doing one thing. That thought alone was enough to make him stiffen in his chair. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the things you were doing in your little black dress, or even with it off.

Jungkook knows what your body looks like under that dress. He knows that you have a little tattoo on your hip that was only noticeable when you wear one of your tiny bikinis. And god, he shouldn’t, but he feels so damn envious of whoever gets to see what lies under those poor excuses for bikinis. He can only imagine what man you’re with, what hands are touching down your naked body.

The look in your eyes when a certain spot was touched, maybe your back would arch and your hips would buck. Maybe you were sensitive, so damn sensitive that when Jungkook first gets his hands on you, you’ll be dripping in your panties—if you wore any.

Wait.

Fuck.

When did this become an imagination of him being the one touching your body? His jeans seemed to tighten, his member growing more erect with each passing image of you under him. Falling apart with his teasing this time, batting your eyelashes at him like an innocent, sweet girl, when you were anything but. The things he could do to you, teach your body so many different sensations that only he could bring you—

“Mr. Jeon.”

His entire body froze, even the small pulse of his hard length at the sound of your voice. Jungkook snapped his eyes to the door of his office, now more open than before with you standing there looking like a walking sin.

You just called him Mr. Jeon and it seemed to send him back to reality about the fact you were much younger than him. Not only that but a friend of his daughter’s.

“Y/n,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his chair awkwardly, “When did you get home?” Could he call it that? Call it your home when you both know it really isn’t. You giggle softly, pushing off the wall sauntering over to his desk with a little sway.

“Just now, I didn’t want to wake you,” you moved around his desk making him more anxious by the second. He was suddenly too aware of the bulge between his legs due to his perverse thoughts. His hand was suddenly on his lap trying to hide himself when you leaned against the desk, right next to him. Your hands on the wooden table supporting your weight, “But you weren’t even sleeping. Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Jungkook looked into your eyes when you frowned. Your face looked flush, eyes a little red and nose puffy. You had a lazy smile, “And here I thought you were waiting up for me.”

“I didn’t even know if you’d be back,” he looked away when you pushed off the desk, shifting his eyes back to his abandoned files. He kept his gaze stuck on it as you walked behind him with a hand on his shoulder, before there were two. His breath hitched as your hands touched his shoulders. You leaned against his back just briefly and he could smell the alcohol on you. It made him tense and he could feel his back muscles twitch. Your palms flattened against his shoulders before sliding them down toward his collarbone as you said, “I bet that worried you. Not knowing what I might be doing, who I might be with.”

He didn’t say anything, eyes failing to stay open when the fabric of his button up shifted against his skin with each drag of your hands across his shoulders, “What are you doing?”

You just smiled looking down at him. You couldn’t see his face but you could see the angle of his head hanging low. You could see the clenched fist around a fountain pen and an arm conveniently placed on his lap. “You just seem so stressed lately. I want to help you relax.”

“Oh,” his voice strained when you nearly closed your hands around his neck, the unbuttoned top of his shirt nearly exposing more of his chest than he wanted it to. “Y/n.”

He needs it to stop.

This needs to stop.

Now. He could feel it, he was very close to snapping. This isn’t right, not at all. But it’s not entirely wrong and it’s all just confusing him and his dick. He had to think of something else but he didn’t want to tell you to stop touching him even if he knows he should.

“How was your date?” He asked, probably one of the worst things to ask but he did so anyway. You didn’t stop your movements, unaware of the way his lips parted when your nails scraped along his chest. God, it felt so damn good to be touched. It was all he could think about and he didn’t want it to be.

“It wasn’t a date,” you told him, continuing your massage, “We went for drinks and, no, nevermind, I won’t say.” You ended with a deep sigh that had him whipping around to stare at you.

“And?” He asked, finally exposing himself to you with disheveled hair, lust blown eyes, and a wrinkled button up. “What else did you do?”

As he asked and his eyes fell upon your neck, something was building up within him. The sight of the small red mark on your neck, “Well?” His voice was deeper, more stern and definitely not happy. He was jealous and you knew it.

“So you were worried,” you giggled, “Were you thinking about it all night? What I might be doing?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny it but he did look away as if he’d been caught. He couldn’t face you but that didn’t stop you from pushing. This was like the red button.

You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing.

“Well…” you took a long sigh, a soft moan in thought, “After the drinks we went back to his place and well, you know how that goes.”

“Hm,” was all he said and you stopped running your hands along his shoulders. For some reason he was disappointed that you did. You just smiled, “That’s all I can say unfortunately, I missed you too much to stay the night so I got an Uber and came home.”

“Y/n,” his voice was firm but the hair on his arms rose at the raspy tone of your sleepy voice, “What are you doing?”

“Having a conversation with you,” you told him simply as you moved back against his desk, his knee so close to your leg as his chair spun out just a little. His eyes narrowed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t think I do,” even as you said that you bit your lip, “Why don’t you tell me?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly stressed. He can’t just tell you. What if he’s just imagining your touches? Your innuendos? He’s much older than you and for him to be bringing this up was embarrassing enough. So instead of doing it, he just gave up.

“You should go to bed.”

“Are you going to take me?”

It went quiet and you swear his gaze darkened in an instance. You weren’t sure if he was deciphering every meaning behind your response or if he was debating actually doing it. You wanted him to. Just look at him. Whenever you even think about him, every concern for Jieun as a friend completely slips away. He’s just too damn stunning, too damn perfect. The fact that he was older just made it ten times better.

You looked at the clock behind him before saying, “I guess I’ll go, but I’ll miss talking to you.”

“Y/n,” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. You looked back at him as he stared down at where your hand was in his. No.

No. Jungkook, don’t even if you really want to at least get a kiss. No.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat preparing himself to talk, “Goodnight.”

You smiled, “Goodnight.”

You left without another word and the second the door shut behind you a breath of relief was pushed out from his stomach to his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned looking down at his aching member.

He doesn’t think he can resist you the next time.

It happened again a couple nights later. This time around, Jungkook felt even more delusional over it. You were only looking at him but you weren’t being at all appropriate. Especially not now having dinner with Jieun and Yoongi. It was a table of four so he was close to you and God, this was getting harder by the minute—or no, he was.

Your foot was pulling at his pant leg and he had to pretend like it wasn’t affecting him. He listened to you talk to Jieun instead.

“So how was the other night with Jimin?” Yoongi asked you at the dinner table. Jungkook pretended like he wasn’t interested, too focused on his dinner plate. From the corner of his eye is where he watched you. You gave a small shrug, still running your foot past his knee until your leg was on his thigh. He places a hand over your ankle, a small squeeze to try and get you to stop instead of just pushing it away.

His hand was rough with age and work and your foot was smooth. It was big, with long fingers, even his pinky and you wondered what else he could do with them. Jungkook hand began hesitantly caressing your leg as you spoke, “Good, but I’m not going out with him tonight.”

“Someone else?” Yoongi asked as he served you all more food from the middle of the table. You smiled, “Maybe.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he shook your leg off of him. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do with him but he’s a grown man. If you want to do things with him he’s not going to wait around for you to finish up with another guy. Especially with a guy much younger than him who he knows won’t be able to please you like he could. Just from the way you’ve been acting he knows not everyone can handle you. You’re a cocktease and maybe he’s delusional but he knows you want him. So why are you going on a date with another man?

No.

Why does he care?

Why is he thinking about a girl young enough to be his own daughter? Why is he imagining what you’d look like sitting pretty on his dick. Why doesn’t he care that Jieun is sitting on the other side of him and all he wants is to slide his fingers up your leg and under your skirt. He could if he pulled your chair closer. He really could. He feels guilty but not enough to ignore this anymore, they’re only thoughts anyway. He wouldn’t actually do it… no, never.

“Do you want us to drop you off when we leave?” Jieun asked once dinner had been over. You shook your head, “No, I won’t be with him till later. What time are you getting home?”

“I’m not,” Jieun said, patting Yoongi’s stomach, “Staying at his place.”

“Alright, I’ll probably start getting ready.”

Jungkook went to his office when everyone left. He would do more work tonight, now he’s got all the time in the world apparently.

Once again he was going to be alone in the house.

Once again you were going out with another man.

Once again he finds himself thinking about it and feeling irritated.

Jungkook doesn’t know you have something up your sleeve. He doesn’t know that the whole time you were talking with Jieun all you could think about was how to get her father to fuck you how you’ve been craving all summer.

He couldn’t even concentrate on his case files, he could only think about what you were doing. He hasn’t heard the front door or the sound of your heels clacking on the stairs. You must be in your bedroom trying one one of those tiny little dresses you like to wear.

How was he to know what you were currently doing? Was it through the text he just received with your name displayed. He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and clicked on your message. It was a photo.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hand running over his face and into his hair as he looked at it. There’s no mistaking what he’s looking at.

You were sitting on his bed wearing the skimpiest slip of black lingerie he’s ever seen. It was a dress, but it wasn’t even enough to cover the black lace panty you wore. His eyes followed the length of your legs, pressed together so elegantly as you posed in front of his large mirror, perched on the edge of his bed. One of your hands was on your lap, keeping the short dress from showing any sliver of underwear. It was your form of teasing, acting like it was innocent and playing it so poorly, but that’s what you were playing at. You knew what you were doing.

Jungkook knew you were bad news the second he saw you in the pool with his daughter. Even before he saw your body, your eyes were seductive. Your tone was always flirty, and he responded to it. God, since the beginning he would react, always giving a little answer to your flirting, always looking when you wanted him to. Even now, his fingers hovered over the keyboard finding it hard to just tell you to stop. He read over the text attached to the photo.

you: should I wear this out tn?

His breath hitched roughly, tension running through his muscles processing your text. You were apparently showing him something you planned on wearing tonight? Asking for his opinion? Sitting on his bed? There’s no way, absolutely no way you’re doing this to him right now. He dropped his phone on the desk and leaned back against his spinning chair. His hands covered his face, easing some tension away in thought. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t.

You might have really done it this time, you’re not even sure what transpired you to act out this way aside from a selfish need to get what you want. This had started as just a way to not get bored during your summer stay and that was all it was supposed to be. It’s not your fault that Jieun’s dad is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And if things went the way you wanted them too, he would be in the same room as you very soon.

If they didn’t, then it was safe to say you would never show your face around here ever again.

There was a bigger sense of confidence that came with preparing this whole ordeal, but the wait itself broke it down. You were so close to getting up and running out the door when it opened. In walked Jungkook, looking as disheveled as possible but he tried to hold himself together. You looked up at him from your seated position as he took in the sight of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes trailed upwards from your exposed legs to your pretty face. A small choked out groan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You asked standing up to look at yourself in the mirror, “How do I look?”

“Y/n,” his voice was stern, turning to face you, “Don’t play with me.” You didn’t bother taking your eyes off your own reflection, capturing his glare through the mirror. “I’m not, Jungkook, I’m just asking a question.”

“Jungkook?” He asked as you finally turned to him, taking a small step closer. He’s so used to hearing you refer to him as Mr. Jeon teasingly that he forgets what it’s like for you to actually say his name. You nodded, standing in front of him, “Or Mr. Jeon?”

He looked down at you now that you were mere inches away from him and he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. You don’t care who he is, you don’t care if he’s older either. He wanted to tell you this was inappropriate and to leave but he would never kick you out. He wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like it either, “Are you wearing this for a boy?”

A boy. Someone younger than him, probably one of those he’s heard you like and it’s not him. He’s a man, he can really show you what it’s like to feel pleasure. You looked down at your slip dress that had him looking down at your exposed cleavage. Without thinking you pressed a finger into his abdomen lightly, “I’d prefer it if it were for a man.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter away from yours, the sexual tension at a high as he leaned into the touch of your hand as it lowered. You were so close to him, chest nearly against chest and you were wearing so little. He licked at his dry lips, “Why’s that?”

“Guys my age don’t know how to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”

In an instance, any thought of putting a stop to this vanished. Every reminder that you weren’t just an attractive younger woman expressing interest in him, vanished. All it took was the soft whisper of your response into his ear for his body to turn to mush. Jungkook barely shifted his head to the side when your lips met his, hungry and fast. His hand pressed into the back of your head, tangling in your hair, to keep you from moving back but you wouldn’t dare. The only moment your lips separated was during the first press of your tongues, meeting in the middle with the slide of spit.

Jungkook couldn’t get enough, the last time he had even kissed a woman, touched one in this manner, it had been a while. A long while that created such intense build-up when you came along making him break. The hand that hadn’t been laced in your hair was touching your waist gently but firm. It was soft but you could tell you wouldn’t be moving away anytime soon. It didn’t stop your fingers from trailing even lower than his abdomen, to the belt on his jeans. With one hand you began to tug on the belt loop, turning your neck as he began to leave wet, needy kisses down your jaw, your back arching from the way he had to bend over you to kiss your neck.

He released a low, breathless grunt at the rough pull of his zipper, hips moving with the force. The arm he had on your waist pressed you to his side when your hand dipped into the waistband of his briefs. His other hand left the back of your head, sliding down toward your neck, releasing a short moan, “Y/n.”

It has been too long. Too damn long since the last time a woman touched him. No, it’s been long since he let a woman touch him. Jungkook always had many opportunities to see someone but he never did it. He never seeked anyone out for sex, he just let himself take care of his own needs and feel unsatisfied. Now he’s letting someone young enough to be his daughter put their hand on his dick.

And it felt so fucking good. Jungkook stopped his attack on your neck to take a proper inhale, trying to keep himself under control as you palmed his naked member. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft stroke. You kissed down the expanse of his neck feeling the vibrations of his low groan. Your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum. Your fingers brushed along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t wait. He wanted more.

With the hand that he had on your neck, he held you away from him. Your eyes met, both looking blown out and yet you still managed to look so seductive. His eyes shifted back down to your parted lips releasing small pants of breath. He licked his dry lips and with a raspy voice, he said, “Get on the bed.”

You looked down at his cock that still felt heavy in your grip. With your eyes locked with his, you moved to the bed sitting on the back of your legs, arms on your lap looking oh-so-obedient. His breath hitched at the sight and he was quickly undressing himself the rest of the way standing naked before you as you sat looking pretty in your little black dress. He got on his knees letting them sink to the mattress as you got up too.

A shiver ran down your spine at the feel of Jungkook’s rough fingers running across your shoulders to lower the thin straps of the dress. They trailed down your back softly, catching the ribbon that tied it together against your spine, and undid it The thin, silky fabric dropped down on the bed revealing more of yourself to him. Jungkook looked down at your chest, he was used to the size of them. All summer long you were showing off your pretty tits in tight tops and slutty bikinis, and yet the full view was so much more. Your nipples were pointed out, sensitive from being exposed and his rough, large hands cupped them. You released a quiet whine as his fingers pinched your nipples. Jungkook’s jaw was open, speechless at how soft you felt in his hands, “You’re such a pretty girl.”

You nodded, biting into your lip when he lowered his head to place a kiss on the plumpness of your breast. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders not wanting to stop when his tongue swiped at your nipple, licking it before sucking it into his mouth. Jungkook traveled his hands down to your thong, groping your ass before getting a hold on the material. With little effort on his end, he tore one side at your hips and did the same to the other until it was coming apart from your legs. Your underwear was left ruined as he held you by the waist, guiding you on top of him as he moved to lie back. You didn’t say anything, only soft moans leaving your lips at the way he moved your body around to his liking. You were both fully naked now and he guided you to turn away from him, gripping your thighs as he backed you up to his head and you got the hint.

Jungkook was being impatient, he needed to feel everything. He couldn’t wait to taste your pussy or to feel the tightness of your throat constrict around his large cock. He wanted to do it all now, not later. Later he can explore slowly, learn every way you want to be touched. Because if you think he’s going to be done with you after one round, you’re wrong. He moved his elbows under your knees making sure your thighs hugged the sides of his head and his body shivered. Just above his face was the prettiest little cunt he’s ever seen. Slick coated the outside and pooled at the center. Your clit was in view and the way you arched your back made your pussy pop out more. He swallowed dryly.

How did he manage to get this sight in front of him? He was a fool to think he could withstand your games, clearly not. But he can’t just let you toy with him, he’ll show you how to make a woman cum.

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his thighs, nails digging into the muscle at his boldness. Your mouth parted in silent moans as his hands pinched your hips, pressing you down further against his mouth, getting the first taste of pussy he’s had in years—even before his divorce. You better believe that he was not doing this to his ex wife the months leading up to separating. Even if he was, nothing would have compared to how eager and wet you were.

“Da—Ju-Jungkook… ” You whimpered as you brought his cock toward your mouth, tongue swiping along his side in hopes of bringing pleasure to him fast. Your tongue began from the base of his cock where his neatly trimmed hair ended, licking all the way to his tip. From there you wrapped your lips around his head letting your tongue swipe along the slit that released clear dribbles of precum. As best as you could, you tried to relax your throat, guiding him down as far as you could.

The feeling of a warm and tight mouth around his dick had him moaning. His eyes rolled in pleasure as his thighs tensed, “Oh fuck, Y/n,” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “Your mouth feels so good.”

Lewd sounds came from your mouth with each thrust of his cock down your throat, tongue licking as much of his length as you could. Jungkook was getting messier with the need to bring you to an orgasm with his tongue. Slick sounds formed every time he lapped his tongue between your pussy lips, nipping at your clit with each swipe. His fingers were digging small crescents into the roundness of your ass as he made you ride his face harder.

“Oh my god,” you cried out like a whiny brat as your hips twitched in pace with the cool in your lower belly. Jungkook placed a hand behind your head not to apply pleasure but to keep you in place. “Oh my god,” you repeated and you were so damn loud, so shameless with your moans and he’s only used his mouth so far. He’s so thankful you never tried this when Jieun was home. He wouldn’t be able to keep you quiet if his dick was in your tight snatch.

Jungkook was relentless, licking at your cunt even as you released your juices all over his tongue. He ate you out through your orgasm, letting it dribble down his chin that he pressed against your clit, shaking. He was close, so fucking close but if he cums it’s going to be in your pussy. He needs it now.

You nearly fell to your side as he moved you off his lap and you collapsed onto the bed, hand feeling around against the comforter to find your little item. He was too busy fixing himself between your legs to notice you touch a small black package. You picked up the condom moving it in front of him and he took it without a word. Jungkook felt like his hands were shaking as he put it on. The anticipation of being inside you was building up and making him jittery. You were going to be so sensitive with the way he ate your pussy and he was so hard it will be very hard to be gentle. His hips dipped down as his hand lined his cock between your folds. Wetness stuck to the condom, and he began a slow grind making sure to touch your clit as he did so. His hands pressed against the bed near your ribs and looked at the sight. You brought a hand down between your legs, spreading your slick around his cock hoping to get him to just fuck you already. You didn’t want him to tease you or stretch you or gently talk you through it. You want him to stuff you full of his cock and tell you much of a bad girl you are.

You don’t know how to explain but he was such a man. Not a boy, not a college guy or late-twenties coworker. He was a man who worked out every day, trimmed his body hair, cooked meals and did yard work all while looking so unbelievably hot. He would take care of you, he has been taking care of you and you wanted him inside of you now.

With your hand already against his cock you took a hold of him as you lined him up with your entrance hearing a soft grunt leave his lips. Jungkook was going to stop you and do it himself but he found it so much hotter to feel you guide his cock into your pussy. The softest pussy he’s ever felt, hugging his dick with warmth and wetness. Sucking him in as far as you could take him and dragging along his length as he pulled back in a nervous twitch. He won’t last, he won’t last at all

“Come on Mr. Jeon, show me how a real man fu—ohh,” he sank back in, the same vacuum sealed feeling hugging his cock and he found it hard to pull back out. Jungkook was quiet, too focused in the need to just fuck that he’s not paying attention. He’s doing what feels good until you tell him to stop. His hands snuck between the mattress and your ass, finding purchase as he lied down against your body. His knees dug into the bed and the muscles in his thighs flexed with the first real hit of his hips against yours, cock digging in just a little further. Your arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby when his hands held your butt so tightly that your hips lifted off the bed. He fucked you onto his cock, back flexing with each thrust that made his spine protrude in his arched form in an animalistic way.

Jungkook was so turned on, so close to the edge that he wanted to scream. He could hold off so much longer but not right now. Not while your moans tickled his ears and your skin was hot under his mouth with each kiss he placed on your neck. You moaned loudly, “I’m so close, oh… daddy, ohh.”

“Shh,” Jungkook mumbled against your throat, “Just cum baby, be a good girl and cum for me. I want to feel your slutty pussy cum around my clock.” He was so close, he just needed the final push and he wouldn’t be so desperate to get off.

Like before, the only warning you gave to your release was the tremble in your thighs. Jungkook released a low growl that made your throat bob as you practically hugged each other with the way he still held your ass to his cock, both coming undone at once.

Jungkook was heaving for air, legs shaking as he set you back down the inch he lifted you up. Your walls still clenched and unclenched around him and he had to turn you both on your side to be more comfortable as he began to pull out.

He rolled onto his back, hand on chest as he looked up at the sky, “Fuck.”

You smiled moving to sit lips placing a kiss to the line between his feelings the way he gasped for air. You wondered if you’d have to wait for a second round another day. “You’re still hard.”

It was true, despite the puddle of thick semen on his lower stomach, he was still hard, and your hand running up his thighs wasn’t helping. Jungkook looked down at you, “Condom?”

“I’m out but I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook wanted to be more rational but he could. He still needed to feel you on his cock. “Come sit on my dick, pretty baby.”

With a flirty smile you did as told, quickly swinging your legs around his hips as you held his cock up, Jungkook had to bite his lip hard to hold back the moan he was going to let out. This time around, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to place his hands on your hips and push you down his length.

“Y/n,” he moaned as you began to ride him, grinding against his base every time you sank down on his dick. You’d raise your hips and drop them back down against his with a smack. “Fuck, tightest fucking pussy. Fuck, look at you.”

You were such a sight with your pretty face displaying pleasure, your first bouncing with how hard you rode him, belly button ring glistening every time light reflected off the jewels. Jungkook’s hand ran over it before coming up to your breasts. “All summer, teasing me with this body, leaving me to jerk off in the shower to the image of it.”

Your pussy twitched at his words, “I touch myself to the thought of you, Mr. Jeon, I’ve been dreaming of this cock in my pussy.”

Your words traveled straight to his dick, pulsing at the idea of you with your fingers in your cunt fucking yourself to him. You were riding him with such eagerness that the bed shook with each bounce of your hips and his hand couldn’t help but spank your ass urging you on. Once again he felt himself close and he wanted to warn you. He was waiting to know for sure if he was going to when everything seemed to stop except the bounce of your hips splitting your cunt open with his cock. His eyes shot to the bedside table where your phone sat facing up, Jieun’s picture on screen.

His heart stopped, trying to get you to slow down but it was too late. He was reminded of your age and relationship with his daughter. You reached for it before he could stop you and pressed it against your ear fighting his hand that reached for it, “Hello?”

“Hey ugly, is my dad home? He’s not answering his phone.” Jieun asked through the phone. You looked down at Jungkook who shook his head with pleading eyes for you to stay still but not stop. He still needed to cum.

“He probably left in his room,” you said the last words with a grind of your hips that had him biting into his knuckles to fight back a moan. You sat straighter, enjoying the stretch of his cock, “Is there something you want me to tell him before I leave?”

His eyes shifted to you now. What do you mean leaving? You sent him a smile, shaking your head to assure him you didn’t mean it and that you wanted to have fun with him all night. Jieun signed, “Just tell him that I left the keys to Benz on the mantle.”

“Mmm, okay,” you said softly as Jungkook began to respond with his hips bucking to meet yours. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve gotta go Jieun, I’m about to leave, I’ll tell him.”

You hung up with that and he took your phone dropping it on the mess of pillows on the floor before sitting up to hug your body fo his, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”

“She left the keys to the car on the mantle,” you moaned out as his face dug into your perky breasts, nuzzling into them. He growled in frustration, grinding your hips on his length, “I already know, fuck she interrupted us for that?”

“While I’ve got her best friend riding my cock like the little slut she is?” He licked your nipple and his words had you moaning, shaking in his hold. He really didn’t seem to care anymore.

He was fucking you from below, sitting you on his lap and making you bounce on his cock, “You like fucking your friend’s dad? You like older man dick?

“Yes, fuck Jungkook, only yours,” You moaned making his chest blossom with pride at your words. With your affirmation, he moved onto his knees, hands under your ass as he fucked you onto his cock.

“Gonna cum for me? Is my baby gonna cum on my cock?” He asked with a coo but with a deep tremor in his voice, “Yeah baby? Such an eager brat, look at you.”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he went faster.

When you came undone, Jungkook took you off his cock. He couldn’t be gentle with it as he came all over himself. A hand was on his dick as he eased himself through his second orgasm of the night looking over to you. You were tired after your own third orgasm and toppled onto his bed. Jungkook knew he should feel some form of guilt but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his hand over your back to your ass as you laid on your stomach. Your perky little ass taunting him so much that he leaned down and place a kiss on it, biting lightly into the plump flesh making you shake your hips from sensitivity. He gave it a final smack.

Maybe when the sex-fueled fog leaves his mind he’ll realize the damage he’s done.

He fucked a woman much younger than him, fucked you real good.

He had let himself be seduced by a total nymph.

His daughter’s friend.

Yet all he could say as he lied down on his back to catch his own breath before a possible third round was…

“You’re such a good girl when you’re taking dick.”

He had about a month before you and Jieun left back to school and he was going to make it worth your while. You’ll never want younger men again. You’ll want his cocking fucking into you every time he visits Jieun. He’ll sneak into your dorm when she’s at work and fuck you with all the pent up desire he’ll have from not having your body in months.

And you’ll take every inch he gives you like a good girl.

REQUEST 1

::.

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a/n whewww look at that taglist 😮‍💨also this was so fun to write and just imagine dilf jk 🤩

[yan-randomfandom]

First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer

Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader

warnings: bizzare body thoughts at the end!!

a/n: I finally wrote a short story for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger [Words: 1201]

💰

Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.

It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.

Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?

Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.

Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.

But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.

Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.

That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.

It's honestly all just confusing, at most.

And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...

Then, one day, Stanley got sick.

You stayed home that same day.

He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.

"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.

Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."

It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.

"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."

You stared as he drank his water. "What?"

He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."

"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.

After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.

You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."

A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."

"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."

Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.

He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."

Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.

"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"

You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"

He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."

"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"

Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"

He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.

...

"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.

...

You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.

But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.

But... ah, he can't think straight.

"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.

He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.

Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."

A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."

Trust.

Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.

He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.

You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."

Stan stared at you.

"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."

He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."

"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."

He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.

You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.

The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.

The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.

His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.

The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.

If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.

And he's never letting you go.

BONUS:

"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.

You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."

"Nooo."

[llamagoddessofficial]

I love Farmtale Sans a lot. But also, living in the country isn't always sunshine cottagecore magicalness. It can suck. But... here's some unromantic country stuff that I think could actually be very romantic when you're with him.

As mentioned before, the two of you end up spending a lot of time in the car together. The nearest big store is a ways away, after all. On those long drives, the radio often cuts out for long periods of time... it can feel pretty lonely, especially at night. But when you're together, it's alright. You sleep with your head against the passenger window, your coat over you, holding his unoccupied hand through the quiet.

He gets a call in the middle of the night from someone else further into the village that there's a surprise rain shower coming through tomorrow, and they need to move a lot of kit indoors ASAP before it hits. He grumbles, but heads out anyway. ... An hour or so later, in the middle of a dark cold field, he sees your flashlight rushing over to him. You have a flask of steaming soup and a tupperware box with a slice of hot pie inside. Despite your fear of the dark and bugs, you made your way out to him. He feels himself fall in love even harder, and just like that, the task takes half the time.

When your home is as exposed as country houses can get, the wind can be really fucking loud. Especially if your room is on the windward side of the house. It can sound like a train is driving over your bedroom at night. You decide to sleep on the couch, both because you can't sleep and because you're nervous about how loud it is; it's difficult to rest when you can literally hear the roof rattling and the shingles jumping up and down. Sans, even though his room is absolutely fine, opts to join you. He lights the fire and gets comfy with you, then stays awake so you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. You wake up the next morning snuggled up to his chest.

The weather is horrendous pouring rain, cold and damp and treacherously muddy. But the animals have to be fed regardless of the weather. You both go out into the early morning darkness, feeding the chickens and cows, checking on the crops, making sure nothing is leaking, hands almost frozen. You come home absolutely drenched in a thick mixture of rain and mud. And as much as Papyrus complains, refusing to let either of you past the porch until you strip all your dirty items... he's got hot lunch waiting for you both, dry pyjamas and thick socks hanging up over the stove, warm blankets on the couch. There's nothing like the feeling of sheltering from a tempest in someplace cosy. Even if the power does keep going out.

[mythicmanuscripts]

weird idea but aegon x vampire reader. reader feeeing of hil etc.

thx xoxo

So I went all the way to the bottom of my askbox and I discovered this absolute masterpiece of a question. I love this, 10/10. I'm tag this with 'Aegon x vampire!reader' so that we can discuss it more under the same tag and also so if you arent interested then just block that tag. I think I'm also going to make a larger tag of 'hotd supernatural!au' so that we can possibly discuss other stuff about this? (Sidenote: both aemond and rhaenyra/daemon would LOVE to be with a witch)

Anyway, NSFW sub!aegon with vampire reader below the cut

So firstly, you know how some people say they don't get the dear over vampires because if a hot person wanted to suck their blood and fuck them then they'd love it? Yeah that's aegon, absolutely zero reservations he realises he's caught the attention of a very attractive vampire and he drives in headfirst.

I think this makes the most sense if the supernatural were normal in this au, but I think vampires would still have a pretty bad rep? They're known for being lone wolfs who use people and can easily hurt others and generally dont tend to be seen very often.

You notice Aegon for the first time at a pub, and of course he's surrounded by people because he's the king. He looks around the room at one point and spots you in the shadows. He's not sure what makes him do it, but he decides to go over to you.

You know who he is of course, but you don't address him as 'your grace' and instead just chuckle and call him pretty boy. Which... from that moment he's hooked.

You end up in his bed at the red keep, and you don't even feed off him that night, instead it's just sex. Which... you may have just ruined Aegon for everyone else because he's pretty sure he saw god during his third orgasm. You completely wreck him, turning him into a whining, shivering mess who cant even speak properly.

You dont leave then of course, because he's far too sweet for that, and you stay to give him aftercare. You intend to leave once he's calmed down, but then he falls asleep in your arms and you can't bring yourself to risk waking him up by leaving. So you end up sleeping with him for the night.

He's awake when you wake up the next morning, but he's still in your arms.

Vampires are known to be very strong and very dangerous, and logically Aegon knows he should feel scared being this close and vulnerable with one, but it's actually the opposite. He knows how strong and dangerous you are and he feels so much safer for it? He knows you'll protect him, even though he's just met you he's certain of it.

Once you wake up, you quickly realise you have a slight problem. You hadnt intended to spend the night, and you should have fed at least a little last night (instead you just fucked the king, which, fair enough).

Aegon is worried when you push him out of your arms, and he's looking at you with these wide puppy eyes and batting at your arms, trying to get you to open them again. He's just very needy little thing.

You tell him that you loved the night before and he was perfect, but now you have to get going because you haven't fed in a while. You expect this to be a good enough reason, but it's not to him. When he hears that, he simply holds his arm out for you, wrist up.

You push it away and look away from him, not wanting to lose control but he's insistent. You rocked his world the night before, and he wants to help!! I knows you won't kill him, so he wants to help!

You give in, even though you know you shouldn't, and end up drinking from him. If there's one thing Aegon didnt expect, it's how good it felt? It feels insane, so so so good.

You don't drink much out of fear of hurting him, but you drink enough and the moment you pull away, aegon is moving forwards and back into your arms.

Needless to say, you return to the castle very often.

(Sidenote: what about the reverse of this with Aemond? He's the vampire and he pretty much just follows the reader around like a lost puppy. He won't feed from anyone else, he'd rather starve than feed from another)

[adoregojo]

he doesn't realise how lonely he is.

the birds nagging on the early morning was freaking annoying and made him wanted to block the window ten times more. he hated how his breakfast tasted, he added to much salt and now he keeps grimacing at every bite. the usual black stray cat on his doorstep keeps greeting him every morning, and all he could find to reply to it meowing was a frown. sunny days were nothing but a pain, the bright light hitting his face as if it was forcing him to like it. how vexing.

the difference shape of flowers peeking out from the next door store brings him nothing of a sense of joy, if anything he wanted to stay away from it due to it attracting the bugs. his coworkers never talk to him, not like he wants to talk to him. he never looked them in the eyes anyway.

he can clearly hear them, their whispers -that were too loud for him to hear- about him being likely an old grumpy grandpa in disguise, they even made bets on if he would smile one day. it didn't hurt him, he couldn't gave a good fuck for it, he just wanted this day to end so he could go home and never have to see anyone.

he doesn't take his shoes off when he's in the apartment, it was too much of a hassle and he doesn't get any visitors anyway. there's barely any food in his fridge, mostly leftovers. he just eats to survive another day. watching pointless tv shows that never truly entertained him, in fact he found them boring but as long as they kept him busy he didn't care.

winter was too cold, summer was too hot, autumn was stressful, and spring gets him a sick problems all the time.

he truly doesn't know where to enjoy anything in life.

well, until he met you.

all of a sudden, the birds melody doesn't sound so bad, so he opens the window for some fresh air. he stared to put afford in making breakfast, not his usual too slaty eggs it is now a fluffy pancakes with your guidance as you embraced him from behind. they weren't perfect, but the pleased noises you make after every bite made him proud. of course he doesn't forget to feed your cat, the same black cat that he claimed it was nothing but a bad luck.

he didn't realise of how much of a neighbours he had till he started coping how you greeted them, it was nice when they started sending you guys food. especially when you liked them and sometimes they'll send his favourite.

sunny days were welcomed now. especially when the bright light would hit on your skin causing a reflection that's making you a walking glowing star. maybe he liked the sun a bit now.

he made progress on talking back to him coworkers, instead of the silent treatment he actually looked at them knowledge them. he actually started looking at them when they speak to him because you told him it was rude not to. soon he was invited to lunch with them where he would show off his bento box you made for him, he was glad the whispers disappeared. he didn't get how much it bothered him till now.

the owner of the flower shop who was an old lady was now a common person he had to see every week, she remarked he was her most loyal client. he received a tones of advice and recommended flowers as well pinching his cheek as a farewell message. needless to say he always tried coming home -he stopped calling it an apartment- to you without an empty hand, having your favourite pair of flowers was a must now. as well taking off his shoes and putting it directly next to yours, this was it right place.

rethinking it now, winter may be still cold but at least he got the scarf you got for him warped up to his neck, if he buried his nose in the soft fur he could smell your cologne -a reason why it was his favourite one- summer was perfect for you two picnic dates, and every time he could kneel down and thank the sun for making you so blazing and sparkly.

autumn was where you would count the crunchy golden leaves, you sometimes warped yourself around it as if it was snow. it was his favourite memory since it made his heart beating fast. and in the end you were his spring, where his love would bloom for you again and again.

restaurants weren't a waste of money and time now. he has a prefers show and it was the one that made you laugh until the tears formed in your eyes, he honestly doesn't find them as funny but it makes you smile so he didn't care.

life stopped being meaningless afterwards, and he could finally say that he enjoyed living as long as it was beside you.

nagi, rin, sae, toji, choso, ushijima, kenma, diluc. kei, sakusa. you favs!

[zwhoreo]

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

[travelling-wanderer]

・﹒・﹒・ why are ya avoiding me? [2]

Summary: You avoided him at all costs because frankly, he was an asshole, doesn't mean he avoided you though. He constantly flirts with you but you just take it as him trying to anger you. It works, but you start to feel like he's being serious, and you have butterflies in your stomach just thinking about him. However, he finally confronts you one day, and you don't know what to do.

Warnings: 15+, suggestive remarks

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Series: Part 1

Notes: I'm not proud of this writing at all, but I'll keep it as it is for you guys!

Did he just say, all the pictures you have of him? How could he have known that? Gulping, you stared him and stop walking, watching as he walks ahead without a care in the world.

“You comin’?” He asks, stopping a few feet in front of you and turning his head to face you, a smirk present.

“Shut the frick up or else I will kick you in the no-no zone” Your eye twitched as you walked ahead of him, taking deep breaths- nobody could actually breathe here so at least you simulated it to calm down. He never failed to piss you off, how the FUCK did get in and why did he go in there at all anyways?

The both of you walked in silence for a few minutes, equal amounts of anger and feeling butterflies in your stomach for the rabbit. The anger was justified, but the attraction was far from it, in fact, the anger came mostly from that attraction. It was ridiculous that you fell for that dumbass rabbit because he was nothing but a tease and a bitch to everyone.

“You're not gonna ask me how I got in, Cutie?” He was fucking with you and he loved it as your door entered your vision. Gripping the handle, you started to turn it before his hand wrapped around your wrist somewhat firmly with his head next to yours yet again. He loved to get up into your personal space huh?

“You can’t fool me, we both know how you truly feel about me, but don't you want to know how I feel about you?” He whispered on the side of your head again- not ear as you had none but a close approximation- and remained there, waiting for a response. There was no need to argue with him about this, he was just taking the piss.

“Oh please, I already know how you feel about me. You flirt to make me mad because you don’t like me. Simple, As. That.” You opened the door roughly and tried to push him away, however, he followed you inside and shut the door behind him. Grumbling, you sat on the bed in shame as he walked over to you with an eyebrow raised. Standing in front of you, he was staring and smirking with his shitty ass face.

“Oh really?” Jax then leaned closer, so close his face was directly in front of yours, causing you to lean back. The rabbit only got closer which led to you falling back on the bed and he pinned you down with both of his hands over yours, face inches now from yours.

“Because I have been flirting with you for so long, waiting for you to make the first move, but I guess I’ll have to” His mouth then covered yours, he was kissing you! You froze for a second, not knowing what to do, then you decided to give in and kiss back, chest fluttering with butterflies. This was actually happening! You relaxed and melted into his affection. His kiss was passionate, but not rough. However, it lasted far too short as before you knew it, he pulled away, staring at you with wide eyes and blush on his round cheeks. You yourself had a very hot face, wide eyes as well looking back. Jax stood up and had a tiny smile on his face, he started to leave.

“Wait! Where are you- where are you going?” You begged, breathless as you quickly sat up, holding your hand out to him.

“To tell Zooble you were too chicken to make the first move” That’s it? He was just going to leave after that? After that kiss? Anger started to seep through you again, how dare he?

“Don’t-don’t leave…please” So why were you begging for him to stay with you? It wasn’t like you were lonely, you were good friends with Ragatha and Kinger! But it felt…different…with him, like you wanted to be vulnerable with him, like you were safe with him.

He stopped as he was just about to open the door, sighing. You knew he had a hard time opening up to others, but maybe he would at least open up to you as he turned around. Jax walked back to the bed and sat down next to you, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t make any sudden moves though, he just stared down at his folded up hands in his lap. 

Nothing was said for an undetermined amount of time, just enjoying having each other around in pure silence. You didn’t expect him to spew his issues right away, it was just important for him to know that he was no longer alone and can have a person to go to for anything. The status of your relationship was up in the air, but it was confusing how you actually felt towards him. You knew you hated him, but you had such a big crush on him.

“Hey, how did you get in my room in the first place Jax?” He was admiring the pictures you had of him on your walls, Caine gave you a camera a while ago and you took them of Jax when he wasn’t paying attention.

“I got keys to everyone’s room Cutie, I thought you knew that since you were so in love with me” He wiggled his eyebrows in your direction, teasing you. In love? As if. As for the key thing, how did he even have all of those keys?

“First off, how the hell do you have keys to everyone’s rooms? Second off, I am NOT in love with you, it’s…it’s…” You were at a loss for words, it wasn’t love, but what? A silly crush? It’s not like you had many options here in this digital world, most people were already abstracted before you arrived, nobody really sported a human appearance here, and you had next to no memories of your old life in the real world.

“Some secrets are best kept secret” He winked at you “And you totally are in love with me, heh” He chuckled with sad eyes as he sighed, looking down at his feet. You sensed a shift in his tone, now wanting to change the conversation.

“We better uh- leave before they get worried huh?” You looked towards Jax as he was looking through your stuff like it was his, but he was very slow about it, yet not methodical.

“Yeah, sure” He was seeming slightly absent now, voice hollow, as he set down the small figure on your desk and swiftly exited your room with coldness. What the hell got into him?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: in my feels.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Reader

Bucky leaves a dark blue towel on the bar for you. When the door shuts, you stay as you are. You sit on the lid of the toilet and contemplate the walls. The tub laps with running water, lulling your tired mind and body. 

You sigh. Embarrassment nips at the base of you skull. You close your eyes. You don’t even let your doctors see you like that. When you try to describe your pain, they don’t seem to listen anyway. Yet Bucky, he sees more than you want him too. Things you don’t realise. 

Well, you guess he is a hero. He saved you before and it’s his job to help others in trouble. This feels like more. It feels like too much. You don’t deserve any of this. 

You glance over at your cane, another reminder that you can’t give as much as he can. That you can’t ever pay him back for this. Does he get that? 

You strip off your shirt and fold it. You put it on the counter and roll your bra up your torso. You wear the ones without hooks. You can pull them on and off easy. Then the real taste faces you. 

You use the corner of the granite to push yourself up. You grunt and whimper. You get your socks off and your pants. You have to stop. You’re out of breath. The pain is like a red hot iron in your thigh bone. You manage to get your underwear down and step out of them clumsily. 

You catch yourself against the tub. You need another break before you get yourself in. You splash into the water and barely keep from fall over completely. You let the hot water steam over you and lean back. 

The tub is deep and spacious. You cling to the sides with your hands. You shudder and your eyes tinge hotly. The tears fall before you can stem them. You don’t notice until they dribble off your chin. 

All of it, the pain, the stress, the uncertainty, the prospect of being left without a home, it boils in the water with you. You don’t know how much more you can take. You stifle your sobs with your fist, inhaling deeply to keep them in your throat. You can’t break all the way. 

You moan as you sit forward and shut off the faucet. You lean back and shut your eyes. Right now, you don’t need to think about it all. Not about how to get more money or how your stomach is aching or even how you’ll pay Bucky back. You just need that moment to forget. 

Bucky 

Bucky sits on the bottom stair and listens. He can hear her clearly as he focuses above. He can hear her heartbeat chugging as she struggles to move herself around. She grunts in agony and he flinches. Then the water splashes below her staggered movements. He wants to go up and help but he knows he can’t. He’s already pushing it. She’s stubborn and he knows how self-defeating that can be. 

He closes his eyes as he keeps his ears pricked. She sniffles then heaves. And another sob follows, swallowed up as the water stirs. It’s as if he can feel her despair and pain. He knows those kind of tears. The exhausted ones. The ones when you just want everything to stop. 

She shuts off the faucet with a whimper. He drops his head into his hands and splays his fingers wide. He combs them through his short hair as he blows through his lips. His phone is buzzing. Whoever it is can fuck off. 

She doesn’t move for a long while. Only long enough for the water to cool. She sits up, her skin squeaking against the porcelain and she pulls the stopper. He listens to the water drain. 

More grunting as she lifts herself up. He shifts and tilts his ear up the staircase. There’s a tense silence, dangling as she holds her breath. Her heart is pumping wildly. 

*Crash* 

He’s on his feet in an instant. He races up the stairs and slams into the bathroom door. It’s not locked. He bursts in without a thought. She squeals as he slides to a stop before the bath mat. 

She on her side, the towel is haphazardly across her wet skin, her thighs are exposed but she hides her stomach and chest. She hugs the cotton and wheezes. Her eyes find his in horror. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. 

“Are you okay?” He bends to touch her shoulder. 

“I... just wanted the towel,” she murmurs. “I was okay... I can do it. I... I can’t do it.” 

She’s arguing with herself. He looks around. Her cane is all the way by the counter. He rubs her bare skin and recoils, stopping his touch from straying too far. His eyes are tugging toward her exposed body as it is. 

He reaches to help her adjust the towel, “can I help you?” 

She nods and hides behind her eyelids, covering her face with her hand. He hesitates, trying to figure out the best way to do it. First, she needs to be comfortable. 

“I’m going to get the towel around you,” he explains. She gulps and dips her chin furiously. She’s horrified. 

He gets the towel wrapped around her as best as he can. A zing sparks in his fingers as he touches her thigh. He holds his breath and hooks his hand under her side. 

“Alright, I'll sit you up first,” he continues. 

She makes a noise. She's too mortified to speak. He sits her up and she moans. He leans her against him and wrap his right arm around her back. 

“Okay, I’m going to get you off the floor now. I need you to tell me if it hurts too much,” he instructs. 

“Always hurts...” she mumbles. 

He slides his arm under her knees. He lifts her, first on his knees, then he plants a foot, then the other. He brings her up and he turns to the door. 

“The bed is made,” he assures her. 

She sits in his arms stiffly. He carries her out and down the hall. He puts her on the bed, the towel hanging open at her back. His fingers tickle her bottom as he pulls away. He didn’t mean to. Really. As nice as she feels, he didn’t mean to. As much as he wants to touch all of her. 

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he clears his throat and backs away. 

He goes to the dresser and opens a drawer. He pulls out the grey shirt with military font that reads US Army. With that, he grabs a pair of his plaid boxers. He takes the tautly folded stack to her. She hugs the towel again and stares at the ceiling. 

“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll check in shortly.” He assures her. 

She sniffles. He understands. He looks down at his vibranium arm. He should take it off for her but he also needs it to help her. 

“Right,” he turns. 

He walks out and shuts the door gently. He goes downstairs reluctantly and grabs his phone from his jacket. Sam called. Several times. And sent a dozen messages. The phone rattles again. He doesn’t have time for that dumbass. 

He answers anyway. 

“What?” 

“So, you were in a hurry,” Sam snorts. 

“Sam.” 

“It’s that girl.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I get it, dude. She’s cute. But I really think she has enough problems--” 

“Leave me alone.” 

He hangs up. Sam is so nosy. He should have never asked him to help out. He shouldn’t have ever let him know about her. She needs to be protected from the world. He doesn’t get that. He can’t understand that. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be different. 

He scrolls through the menu. He taps the icon and waits for the app to open up. How... alright, um... American? That sounds like normal food. He taps the category and scrolls through the options. There’s a chicken place. Chicken and veg, can’t go wrong... 

He picks out a Meal for Two deal and adds it to the cart after the third try. Right, checkout... tip... Too many steps. 

He should get her something in the meantime. He goes to the kitchen and fills a glass of water. He looks around aimlessly, shuffling through the cupboard and fridge. Granola? It will do. 

He goes upstairs. He knocks with his knuckles as the bag of granola rattles. Her heart flips. 

“Yes?” She calls out. 

“I brought you some water.” He replies. 

“Okay,” she says. 

He takes the weak invitation. He enters and finds her under the covers. She sits against the pillows, her arms crossed. 

“Do you need more pillows?” He asks as he puts the glass on the nightstand. 

“I’m fine,” she barely whispers. 

“I brought you a snack. For now. Food is on the way.” 

She doesn’t look at him. She stares at her lap. “You didn’t have to.” 

“Stop. Let me help,” he insists and gently places the bag by her leg. “I have a heating pad.” 

She shrugs, “thank you. It's... a lot.” 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he says. “I can bring you some books or something to do? I have a tablet. Never use it.” 

She shakes her head. 

He shifts on his feet awkwardly. He wish she wasn’t so scared. He wish he could just tell her everything. That he knows exactly what she’s feeling. That they are the same. That he will do anything to make her feel better. To keep her safe. To take care of her. 

“You’ll let me know what you need,” he says. 

“I don’t need anything,” she squeaks. 

“But when you do,” he sighs. 

She nods. 

He stares at her. She’s trembling. She’s in pain. All because she fell. Because he let her fall! He should have been adamant. She needs help or it will all be worse. 

“You know, it’s okay to need help.” 

“I know I need help,” she snips. He’s never heard her speak so sharply. “I know that I’m broken.” 

“I didn’t say that--” 

“I’m broken and I’m a loser. I have nothing to give you, Bucky.” She lifts her head, her eyes hooded with pain. “I can’t pay you back for any of this.” 

“I know.” 

She frowns, “so why are you doing all this?” 

As much as he wants to tell her the truth, to tell her how he feels, that he has nothing else in this world that makes him care. Only her. He knows he can’t. Not yet. She’s not ready. 

“You know, I was alive during The Great Depression. All sorts of people needed help. Including me, my mom, my dad, my sister,” he explains. “They needed help but they also helped others. My ma, she used to make these big pots of stew and when some beggar walked by, she’d hand over her bowl. She thought we didn’t know that her bowl was full of water, but I did. 

“I used to steal canned tomatoes and leave them in the pantry for her to find. She always thought she forgot because she was so hungry...” He shrugs and sniffs. He doesn’t talk about his family. “My dad came and got me from the base when the MPs caught me sneaking around the mess. He almost lost his job but he never told her. And those government issued crushed tomatoes kept going missing at the camp.” 

She looks at him intently. Her face softens and her eyes gleam. She wiggles her nose and lowers her head. 

“You must miss them,” she says. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. “But I keep them close by doing what I know they’d want me to. Like helping those who need it.” 

She doesn’t say anything. He watches her for a moment before he snaps himself out of his trance. He inhales deeply a scratches his neck. 

“I’ll go wait for the food,” he says. 

[aureatchi]

˚୨୧ ｡ ˚ IT WAS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER . — osamu dazai

⟢ SYNOPSIS. after a long week of work, you and your best friend retreat to a bar to distract yourself from your responsibilities. however, you find it unfulfilling and decide you need to just go home. as you head out the door, you bump into someone more than familiar.

a/n. it’s the way i immediately thought of him when i first heard this song. <3

info. fem!reader. exes to lovers!au. we have the full recipe…fluff; light angst; gets really sugg. mentions of drinking; scars. your best friend hates dazai. hc dazai doesn’t bandage his tummy. (ᗒᗜᗕ) ﾉ wc. 3.6k

“It’s just a lot.”

You just finished the final shift of your job for the week, and you were more than exhausted and burnt out. You had called your best friend immediately after to get some comfort, and despite how busy she was, she agreed to meet you for some drinks and listen to you rant.

“My coworker’s getting on my last nerve,” you continued venting. You had already told her about select crappy people you had to interact with during the day and then your boss, who regarded you with no empathy whatsoever. “Today’s already been bad enough, and then she decides to just pile more stress on me.”

You swished the ice around your emptied glass, creating clanking sounds while coating the cup in water.

“Maybe you should just quit,” your friend replied, taking a sip out of her glass. “I would’ve been long gone if I had to deal with annoying people all around, nine to five.”

She looked up at you. “Besides, you’re well off anyway. I don’t see why you’re working. Are you…trying to distract yourself?”

You sighed. She knew you too well.

“Love, don’t tell me you’re still hung up over—“

“It’s not what you think,” you cut her off, yet you avoided eye contact. It was easier to lie that way. “I just feel I’d have too much free time on my hands. I’m not sure what I’d do with it.”

You let out a dry chuckle. That wasn’t wholly false in itself, either. At your age, everyone had their own things going on—your best friend being an example. Therefore, you couldn’t find much time to go out with any of your friends, and you weren’t interested in meeting new people either.

You could blame your job. Perhaps the ones you meet every day put a sour taste on your tongue, making you lose any desire to interact with strangers. You could blame your exhaustion. Or…

“Honestly, I think that calls for someone new in your life,” your friend replied. “That’ll surely cure your boredom.”

“No thanks. I don’t feel like dating anyone right now.”

“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “But it’d help you feel less lonely, no?”

“…you didn’t believe my answer to your earlier question, huh?”

“No. Of course not.”

It had been over five months since you broke up with your boyfriend. You tried seeing people after that, but in truth, you were only using them to try to move on.

Once you realized that it wasn’t working and it wasn’t fair for others to play with feelings, you decided to take on a new job on the other side of the city so you’d still get out of your house and have a change of scene.

“…But you know what? Screw him. I will keep saying again and again, I hate that man. Suicidal maniac. I know it’s hard, but you’re too hot to keep dwelling on this. You need to learn to move o—”

Your friend’s phone suddenly buzzed, interrupting her little lecture.

She picked it up, and you waited for her to finish speaking.

“I’m sorry, I think I got to go. I left my boyfriend with my cat, and he just told me he lost her already…” she shook her head. “Have you gotten out everything you wanted to say?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied. “I think I’ll go home soon, too. Not really feeling it.”

She stood up, handing you a bill with a smile. “Drinks on me tonight. Don’t complain—I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer. And we didn’t order much anyway.”

“That’s okay; I appreciate you coming to listen to me anyway,” you replied.

“The offer is still open, by the way! If you want to find someone, I’ll schedule a date by this weekend.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks.”

…

You only had one more drink before you decided to leave, still mostly sober—you figured it’d just be best if you’d take care of yourself at home.

Another thing your job was also distracting you from was witnessing all the relationships around you. Your friend had to go home for her boyfriend. You noticed a few couples at the bar you were at. You’d probably see more when you walked outside.

Not that you minded, is what you tried to tell yourself every single time. You didn’t have to be with someone. It’s okay to have a break.

But was it okay to still have a particular person at the back of your head all the time?

You stood up, leaving the bill and tip for your bartender before you walked toward the door. Opening it caused the bell attached to it to jingle. You were greeted by a cool, night breeze—and someone’s torso.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you replied, too tired to even catch the face of the person you bumped into.

But you had no choice when the man didn’t move out of the doorframe to walk in or allow you to pass.

So, when you met the almost-surprised, caramel-kissed eyes on a face framed with dark brown bangs and wavy hair, you felt your heart plunge into your stomach.

You whispered his name—almost scared to say it, the syllables feeling foreign from not having spoken it aloud for months.

“…Osamu.”

He was halfway through saying your name when you dashed for the exit, shoving him aside and speed-walking out.

“Wait! Bel—“ he caught himself and shouted your name once more.

You started walking down the parking lot, unsure of where you were trying to go, except away—away from Dazai. You had forgotten this bar was in the heart of the city. You didn’t know Dazai came to this one, but you knew his work was somewhere close.

“Hey!” you felt a breeze behind your back, and then a hand gently land on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“What…why are you following me?”

You turned around, getting your second full view of your ex for the night.

His hair was a bit longer. He still had those bandages on his neck—did he bother to change them out recently? His scent was as still as you remembered—grassy and toasty, a resemblance to green tea.

“I’m not sure why I’d leave a girl I know to walk alone at night,” he shrugged. “It’s dangerous!”

You continued walking, not responding to his reply.

“Where are we going?”

“Who’s we?”

“Aw, that was really rude.”

You ignored Dazai, making sure your stroll stayed a few feet in front of him.

You then entered a park, him trailing behind you.

“Why were you at the bar alone?”

“That’s none of your business.” You walked down the path, trees casting dark shadows onto the grass under the moon’s light.

“…And I wasn’t alone the entire time. I was with a friend, but she left to attend something.”

Dazai nodded, trying to catch up to your face. You immediately gave him more than enough space when he reached you, not wanting any invasion of your personal space.

“But you usually don’t drink unless you’re either celebrating or stressed,” he said. “And from what I’ve seen, it looks like the latter.”

You stopped again. “Again, it’s none of your business. Maybe you should focus on yours. You go and drink tons when you’re stressed, too.”

“Hey, I’ve actually gotten better at that…”

“You still ended up at a bar midweek.”

“But I didn’t even go in, no? I’m with you at a park right now.”

You were silent once again. But now you couldn’t complain that he was following you.

Why do I care if he drinks or not?

No. It’s normal. You’d care for the well-being of anyone you know.

You approached a set of swings in the center of the park. It had been ages since you’d been on one, swinging back and forth in carefree.

“Want me to push you?” you heard Dazai over your shoulder when you examined the equipment.

“Heck no,” you responded.

“Why not? It’d be fun!” He moved closer.

“No! I’m not sure if it’d even carry me,” you laughed. “It’s for kids.”

“You can try it. Just sit. And I’ll catch you if it breaks—“

“Shut up. I can catch myself.” You lowered yourself onto the seat, seeing that the metal poles did hold. You swung yourself a bit to test if it’d keep up your weight.

“It works.”

“Great! Can I push you now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I won’t kill you, bel—I won’t! I promise.” Dazai childishly held out a pinkie toward you.

You sighed. “Fine. Just please don’t push me too high.” You clasped your pinkie around his.

“I got you!” You felt palms on your back, and then a light push that moved you forward, and then gravity pulled you back toward him.

Everything pulls me back to him—my mind and the universe both.

You were suddenly pushed higher, catching you off guard. You felt yourself fly multiple feet off of the ground, and you clutched the metal in panic.

“H-Help—Osamu!”

“You’re fine. You won’t fall,” Dazai chuckled. He pushed you again, sending you even higher than the previous time. You wanted to scream, but it came out more as a laugh.

“Is the thrill fun?” he asked while you were in the air, noticing your smile.

“Yeah, it is—HEY!”

Dazai had pushed you hard, sending you swinging all around the equipment, in a complete three-sixty.

“Osamu!” you cried, the momentum spinning you around once more. You couldn’t stop it—it was too fast.

You were clutched from behind, arms tightly wrapped around your torso to stop the swing. You could hear the sound of Dazai being dragged through the rocks below, but he was able to ground the both of you before you went flying again.

And you felt warm. Despite the evening’s cool air, you felt like you were encompassed in a fireplace’s heat on a winter day.

“Got you.”

You let out a giant exhale of relief. And then, you turned around in anger.

“I told you not to push me that high!”

“But I didn’t kill you, did I? You stayed on the swing the entire time! You were safe! Plus, I think you enjoyed it.”

You stood up, causing Dazai to let go of his arms. “I’m dizzy now.”

“Do you need water? We can buy some. And did you drive here?”

“No, I took a taxi.”

“Let me drive you home then,” he said.

“I think I’m fin—“

“Please,” he cut you off almost urgently, but then he caught his tone and reverted.

“I mean, many kidnappers disguise themselves as taxi drivers. Especially at night.”

“You’re still so cynical,” you replied. “Stop being so protective. It’s not like we’re…nevermind, sorry.”

You didn’t dare look at Dazai’s expression.

…

You each got a yogurt drink, and it helped soothe your dizziness immediately.

You walked by Dazai silently, but compared to earlier in the night, you were no longer repulsed to standing by him.

He opened his car door for you before getting in his seat on the other side.

“What have you been up to these past months?”

You asked as he found his keys, turning them into gear.

“A case. It’s something huge going on.”

Dazai’s work accounted for part of your breaking up with him. He was too secretive—despite you knew that he trusted you so much that he explained to you exactly what his job consisted of, and he only left details out to protect you from getting involved, you couldn’t handle it.

Maybe you were selfish for that. But you needed to know what your boyfriend was up to—if he was safe. Perhaps that was another reason why. You would never let him go if you knew of the exact danger he was volunteering himself in.

“I see. Sleeping okay?”

“If I do, sure.” He was suddenly reaching over your body, grabbing your seatbelt.

Your heartbeat fastened as Dazai hovered over you, pausing to look at anticipating eyes and a risky glance at slightly parted lips.

He sighed before fastening the buckle and moving away, acting like nothing happened.

…

You two drove in silence, you gazing out of the car window to admire how the city looked in the absence of the sun.

A song was suddenly put on. You looked at Dazai.

“Do you still like this song?”

“Yeah,” you replied. He had put on your favorite song, indeed.

You silently thanked him for it. The awkward tension to speak to one another had vanished; you could indulge yourself in music.

Until it ended, of course, but by then, you could see you were almost home.

“Osamu.”

“Yes?”

“This was a really bad idea. I hope I never see you again after this.”

“Probably, but maybe I wanted it to happen. Maybe I thought about you so much that I had to seize this opportunity.”

“What?”

“What if I hope to see you again after this?”

“You can go flirt with any other girl for entertainment.” He did a lot of that, too. Even if it was Dazai’s most efficient tactic for getting information, he had also said he simply couldn’t help it sometimes.

“I don’t find that interesting anymore.”

You looked at his distant, faint reflection through your window.

“…you think about me?”

You were answered with a nod.

Dazai turned, pulling you into your driveway.

“I’ll continue to even more after tonight,” he said. “Whether we see each other again or not. It plagues my mind every day. What I could’ve done better—how much you deserve that I failed to reach.”

He parked. “Of course, I’ve tried to move on. It’s the most fair thing to do for you. But if someone were to ask me, bella, saying that I don’t still love you would be a lie.”

“You’re selfish,” you commented.

“I know. I’m very.”

You opened the door, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you for driving me,” you said.

You walked towards your front door and then looked back at Dazai, who was standing by his side of the car.

You contemplated for a second.

“D-do you have something to do for the rest of the night?” you carefully asked.

“No.”

“Can you stay? Just for a bit. We can talk about things. And hopefully, you get some answers that will help you stop occupying your mind of me.”

You said that as if you were trying to convince yourself, rather Dazai.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You pushed open the door.

Dazai followed you as you walked through the house—through the hallway and to the kitchen.

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” he replied.

“Alright. Uh…feel free to make yourself at home. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.”

…

You walked into your room, first washing your face in the bathroom. You stared at your face through the window, noticing how pigmented your cheeks were.

Why did I do this?

You were in the middle of changing your pajamas when Dazai knocked on your door.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh—“ you hastily buttoned two thirds of your shirt before, “Yeah.”

A smell of your favorite scent immediately flowed into the room as Dazai came in. It was of the candles you had around your house.

“You lit my candles?”

“Yeah. I got curious because the flavors looked nice. I like them. The scent matches you perfectly.”

“Oh…thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t know how else to respond.

Dazai glanced around your room. Some things changed—you had moved some things around, redone the decor on your nightstands, changed your bed sheets…what he didn’t know was that you actually donated them after the break-up so you would never see them again.

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah. Do you still happen to have bandages?”

“Yes.” You had Dazai sit on the bed while you searched your closet for the box of bandages you would keep for whenever he came over. Unlike your sheets, you had kept them for your emergency first aid.

Or in case he happened to be in an emergency.

“What do you think you could’ve done better?”

There was a silence right after. You had hit Dazai with a hard question first.

“I’d stop disappearing so much without warning. I only realized how much I took that for granted when we stopped seeing each other. I would try to communicate better…” He looked down. “I’m terrible at it, I know, but I would try harder.”

“Why me? You could move on and find some other girl to treat right the first time.” You found the box, pulling it out.

“Because I would feel like a loser,” he added your name to the end of the sentence. “I was a total jerk to someone who loved me, and then I decide to switch it up for someone new and pretend to start on a clean slate? No, bella—I’m cursed with not forgetting and forgiving myself of the past. It feels cowardly.”

“Osamu, stop. You hurt me, yes, but you weren’t the only one in the wrong.

“I-I’m sorry.” You hadn’t apologized to him yet, through months.

You noticed his eyes almost widen, surprised.

“And I also forgive you. It took awhile, but I’m forgiving you of the mistakes that hurt me,” you continued. “And I’m apologizing to you too. So please forgive yourself. You don’t need to feel guilt.

“It’s only fair to you as well to move on.”

“Why, bella? How is it fair? How is it fair when the only person I want to see is you?”

“Osamu.”

You were right in front of him, the closest you’d been to him that night, discarding how he had tightly hugged you on the swing earlier. You were drowned in emotion that surrounded his desperate pleas.

“Can you please bandage me?”

“Why?”

“I miss your touches.”

You regret asking. He had no shame in expressing his thoughts, no matter what you two were going through. You regret asking, yet…

“Your coat.”

You climbed behind and rid Dazai of the top portion of his clothes—his vest and dress shirt. Then, you started unwinding the bandages on his arms, chest, and neck.

Gently, your fingers grazed the scars that hid underneath his attire, and his mind. Months ago, you had learned what every single mark came from after knowing where each one was—it was one detail Dazai fully opened to you about.

You were thankful you couldn’t see scars of the heart.

He would have thrice as many. Perhaps one of them would include you.

You rewrapped Dazai, leaving only his stomach unbandaged. You moved to do his neck when he paused you with his eyes, mere inches away from his face.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

You wish he weren’t so pretty. You would’ve been able to rationalize yourself quickly—you would’ve been able to give him a final answer without hesitating. But he ended up being the face of your dreams and the depth of your heart.

“I tell myself it’s fair,” you whispered. His nose was almost touching yours. “I tell myself it’s better that we’re done. But my heart isn’t so sure. It asks the same—how is it fair? To keep myself longing?”

Your arms were around Dazai’s neck with the bandage, yet you did not move to finish.

His gaze moved to your lips. A hand moved to your hair.

“Is it fair? If it truly is, push me away, bella.”

He didn’t force himself any closer, leaving you with the choice despite his yearning appearance. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours and the soft air of his breaths on your cheeks.

“Yes. It’s fair, Osamu.” You came to your conclusion.

Yet, you dropped the bandages, cupped his face towards you, and pressed your lips on his.

“But I’m selfish too.”

You moved your hands to waft through brunette locks as Dazai pulled you onto his lap. He held you tightly—desperate at the acceptance of your invitation.

Closer, along with the fresh scent of green tea, there was a note of sweetness as intoxicating as chocolate. You came to know this pleasant surprise every time you were pressed up against him, tucked well into his embrace.

A hand moved down your waist, tracing your curves. Meanwhile, his kisses became sloppier, changing course to your jaw.

“Bella,” he whispered.

“Osamu?”

“Too much? Just let me know.”

“Don’t stop.”

He planted his lips on your neck, leaving a mark when he moved to the next area.

“I don’t want to lose you again. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, pulling him down over you.

“Everything about you,” Dazai continued. “It’s enchanting. How you smile when you’re flustered—like right now, and how you react when I touch you here…”

His hand found its way under your shirt, and you started laughing. He knew how and where to draw every specific reaction out of you, including where you were most ticklish.

“Osamu! Stop, hah-!”

You let him stay hovered over you and left his curious hands to wander your skin. Dazai looked free of emotional distress for once—being able to calm just by admiring you. It was like medicine.

“Do you still keep a spare pajama set?” he asked.

“Yes. However, the guest room is being renovated.”

“It’s fine. A couch was a luxury for me at one point.”

“Or you…could stay here. And you can have your favorite side, the side closer to the window.”

“Because I always see how the sun’s rays lay on your skin when I wake up,” he smiled. “And how spellbound your eyes make me when you open them and the light hits it.”

“You remember so much.”

“I told you how much I think about you, belladonna. I remember every night that I’m with you.”

dazai listens to music w/ u if u rb. reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

[poppy-metal]

I've had this thought in my head for awhile of down on his luck patrick - maybe he's in a dry spell in his tennis career, and hes really way too fucking stubborn to crawl back to his family. he'd rather be homeless - coming in too contact with recently divorced!reader.

you have way too much money. you probably have a steady job as a ceo or a doctor - something big and important. but your marriage was nasty. your husband resented you for having more money than him, claimed it emasculated him - threw it in your face that you were getting into your forties now and couldn't even give him babies. he tore down your self worth, made you feel like less of a woman - made you think you weren't worth loving. you've been separated for some time now - and you're so lonely. you're horrible at dating - you always screw it up worrying about what their expectations of you will be. if you're feminine enough for them - if you're desirable - you come home to an empty spacious apartment and watch your TV shows and think you hate your life.

meeting patrick because he fell asleep on the bench outside your complex. you almost walked right by him but something - something about him called to you. maybe it was the fact that he looked so young - in his twenties clearly. freckle spotted and pink cheeked in the cool night air. curled up on the bench like a baby, using his hoodie as a pillow. your heart strings tug. you'd like to think this first step comes from the good of your heart and not some need to be needed - not some need to fill the void inside you - but you wake him up. and if you notice how pretty his eyes are you fold that into a little square in your pocket and ignore it. you tell him, "you look like you need some tea."

and patrick needs alot of things. he needs a fucking cigarette. he needs to be able to afford a fucking meal. he needs to get into a tournament and get back into the groove of things before he burns out and does something insane like kill himself because he hates his fucking life. but tea works. he's not one to turn down free shit. especially from pretty older women.

and he probably thinks this is a transaction - he probably isn't thinking of you lustfully at all at first - your little granny aesthetic and walls covered in pictures of woodland creatures dressed in 1800s garb weird him out, if hes being honest - but he moves to pull his shirt off anyway - because he knows what a free place to stay for a night means - and pussy is pussy at the end of the day. he just wont look at your walls when he's inside you.

and when you stop him its not because you dont want him - unlike patrick you think hes nearly ethereal. there's something mousy about him - but masculine too. his hair is wild and he has too big ears and a pointed nose. but his eyes are this gorgeous moss green - his lips pink and plush - his body filled out - you can see the defined lines of his stomach when he tugs his shirt up, the v that dips down into his jeans and then disappeares, the smattering of dark hair that peeks out - a man. you're not unaffected, is the thing. but you stop him because that's not what you invited him up for, really.

"you dont want....?" he trails off. looks at you like you're a strange insect under a microscope and he's wondering what the hell is up with you. like he wants to poke you with a stick. ask, 'you could obviously use some, lady, so what gives?'

"i just want you to.... talk with me. over tea, if that's alright. you can sleep here after if you'd like. i dont mind."

he thinks he gets it then. nodding his head slowly. he can talk. he'll talk your fucking ear off. he thinks you're probably lonely as fuck and yeah, its pathetic, but hell. pot meet kettle. misery loves a hot younger guy to ogle. isn't that how the saying goes? either way, you're both clearly lost in life at the moment. your apartment is too empty. he could use your hospitality.

its kinda a match made in heaven. an unlikely bond. love and sex isn't the plan - but then, does life ever go according to plan? can a lonely woman with a kind heart and a man who's made a shit mess of his life but wants to do better stay just friends? mean nothing to eachother?

[trancylovecraft]

Headcanons for Yandere JD from Heathers the musical?

(HEATHERS) YANDERE! JD x READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: Damn, If it wasn't for my girl Yuno then this bastard would be the poster boy of the yandere trope. tHIS SHITS CANON. FANDOM: Heathers the Musical

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Okay, JD, This maniac.

I headcannon JD to be an Obsessive, Possessive, Violent and perhaps even a bit Manipulative and Delusional.

Obsessive in the way that its.. Well, It's JD! After a life of moving from place to place after his mothers death, He's become lonely. So when you come into his life, Willing to cure that ailment, JD is instantly all over you. He's not really obsessive about you, But the idea of you if that makes sense.

Possessive in the way that it ties into the last point, You're his only source of social interaction. You're his only friend and JD is not going to let anyone take you from him. You're HIS, Not anyone elses.

Violent in the way that JD get's absolutely livid if you do try to leave him. I mean, He tried to blow up westerburg for fucks sake! He's unstable and will get real volatile if you do try to get away.

Manipulative in the way that JD plays to your emotions. He'll make you feel guilty over the people he's killed, He'll make you feel like shit for trying to leave. Perhaps he'll even get you to assist in these murders, JD loves you but you must understand that this is just how he shows his love!

And Delusional in the way he believes that the entire world is against him, That it's all evil. But not you, You're an angel! You're the good in-between all the dirt, That's why he loves you so much! You can do no wrong in his eyes, Even if you do get a little bit confused sometimes..

I can see JD falling in love with you in a few ways.

The first is where you're an outcast like him, A social loner who doesn't really have anyone to talk to at break times. You're nice but you're quiet, Keeping to yourself.

I can see JD latching onto you after a single interaction. Maybe he drops something and you pick it up for him, Maybe you lend him a pen during class. Either way, It's the single domino to the catastrophe that will come later.

The second way is where you're popular, Really popular. So much so that you're part of the Heathers. Maybe you and Chandler have a history and that's why you're with them, But either way you follow beside her as one of the queen bee's in school.

But you're not mean, You're kind. Maybe you welcome JD into the school once he joins, Maybe you just say hello to him in the halls everyday. And this is enough for him, He becomes infatuated with you.

I'm going to go with the second option.

So you're a heather, You go to parties, You date, You do all the stuff a heather is expected to do. But it's not your style, You're only with them because Chandler was your friend growing up and you were hot enough to stay with her in the group.

But you make do. You're nice to everyone you meet, That's more your speed. You lead the student council, You organise school events and you make sure everyone has a good-time.

It's a good change of pace from all the stuff that comes with The Heathers. You have a decent life and it's future is looking pretty bright, With your good grades and status as the student council leader, You're destined to get into a good college.

Until JD turns up at the school.

It's pretty rare to get a student show up half-way through the year, And it'd be a pretty stressful time too. So you make sure to search him out and welcome him in here with open arms, You would've wanted that if you were in his scenario at least.

So you search him out, Helps that you and him share a class together. And before the bell rings, You find him early in his seat just getting ready for class.

And you walk up to him despite his rather cold demeanour, You introduce yourself to JD anyways and ask him how his first day was.

And JD is shocked.

Someone as pretty and popular like you greeting him? And in such a kind way? JD is at a loss for words, He's not usually welcomed with such warmth on account of his "bad-boy demeanour" and tendency to avoid crowds.

So when you welcome him to the school, Ask him how he's settling in. JD can't help but answer with a witty remark as an instant way to try strike up conversation.

And even though it doesn't last long due to the bell ringing and you needing to sit down and do your work, JD certainly can't take his mind or his eyes off of you. Looking at you more than the work in front of him.

He's the kind of yandere that gets interested fast, Not needing a second interaction to spike his interest. JD can already tell that you're perfect, An angel in your own right. He doesn't need any more confirmation.

Afterwards, Yeah, He's hooked!

After that, JD starts to follow you around just far enough so that you don't notice him. In school or out of it, He's just got to know more.

He eventually learns where you live after he follows you home one day. He learns what you like, Who your friends are. Your favourite flavour, If you have any pets or whether you drink coffee or tea.

Its all so perfect to him.

You start to find little gifts in your locker, Maybe a box of your favourite treats or even a flower that you're particularly fond of.

You of course, Being a heather means that you get a lot of attention from both guys and gals so receiving these things in your locker is not uncommon. Therefore you just go about your day, Maybe eating the treats of placing the flower in a pot.

JD begins to get violent, His tendencies starting to kick up. Anyone else that tries to ask you out, Anyone that you may sleep with, Anyone that you even just talk to gets a beat-down from the man himself.

I mean, How dare they try touch you? JD is by no means deserving of you and he knows it, But that doesn't mean everyone else is entitled either.

JD certainly tries to hang out in spots where you usually go just for the chance of seeing you, To maybe start another conversation with you.

By now you've definetly heard of what JD's been doing. Beating people up, The rumours spreading around about him. It freaks you out, Especially since a lot of the victims were your friends.

So you avoid him, Not wanting to anger him.

You know that JD is probably troubled. He's outcast with low social skills, He's joined the school half-way during the year and he's violent. You've heard the type and realise he probably has some home issues.

But you're not an adult, You're not professionally trained. You're just trying to get through high school, So you have no way to help him. It's not like you could get him any help, Westerberg is not known for it's counselling and you're not his friend so you don't think it's right of you to find him some.

JD for one, Is irked.

He doesn't deserve you in the slightest. Among the filth, The cruelty and the evil of the world you are the angel above them. JD is no better than everyone else, But he's certainly trying his best to get your attention.

He knows he'd be good for you, He knows he'd be the only one who'd be able to keep you away from all the dirt.

JD just wished you'd listen.

So he's gonna make sure you hear him now.

It's a completely normal morning, One day when you walk into school you're instantly bombarded with the news of a body being found in the ditch by the school.

You're horrified as you learn it to be one of the people you talk to often, Sometimes before and after class and within the hallways.

Its even worse to know that the body was mangled so viciously that the police suspected that it was a wild animal like a cougar that got to him, All before figuring out that it was a murder.

More victims pop up over the next few days, More and more bodies pile up. You're terrified, Horrified as they all were people you very much knew.

The next few weeks are tense and distrustful amongst the student body. You as the student council leader should know, As the majority of your school events have been closed due to safety reasons.

Somehow the school has been kept open despite all the victims being apart of their student body. Something about education reasons, You remember one of your teachers saying something about being too far into the school year.

People don't walk alone in the halls, Everyone looks behind their back. Everyone is suspicious of everyone, Mostly because nobody knows if the culprit is one of them.

Parties have started to die down. Not the crazy blow-out ones that you and the rest of the heathers go to, No, The people hosting them are too stupid to do so. But the ones with more common sense decide to just stop until all of this is over.

More and more bodies start to appear, One per week was the current rate. There have even been bets in your school to see who would be next, People rounding up the money. Its disgusting, It horrifies you.

Students have been instructed to walk home in groups. You comply as you walk home with Duke, Chandler and McNamara. You wanna stay safe, You wanna make sure you and your friends get home safe.

All until one day you enter your room, Greeting your parents at the door and going upstairs to your quarters. You only see that your bedroom window is cracked open before you hear the scream of a door slamming shut.

You near get whiplash from looking around so quick, Eyes widening as you stare dead at the face of JD standing in your room Blocking the door.

You can barely scream before he is on you, A hand covering your mouth while another snakes around your waist to form a twisted mockery of a lovers hold. All the while he tells you "It's just him!" "It's gonna be fine."

It certainly will not. Keep in mind the only interaction you two had was months ago, The rest was him beating the shit out of your friends. So you're horrified when he talks to like he knows you..

Thats when the realisation hits you.

You instantly start kicking and screaming in a desperate attempt to get out of his hold. JD tries to calm you but you do not listen anymore, He is the murderer that was terrorising your town.

Once you bite his hand and it relents, You beg for him not to kill you. You cry and scream for your parents, For him to let you go, For you to live!

JD doesn't understand why you're struggling so much, He knows he's not worthy to even touch you but he shouldn't be viewed like this! He should be your knight in shining armour.

JD knows that the people surrounding you have made you like this, Which is why he grabs the nearest blunt object, A lampshade, And bashes it over your head.

You instantly fall unconcious, If not too woozy to know what the hell is going on. JD catches you before you fall to the ground, Almost seeing it as a romantic gesture.

By now the commotion has alerted your parents, So JD throws you over his shoulder and makes his way back out through the window. Neither of you seen, No witnesses found.

This starts the domestic stage.

You wake up within an abandoned cellar. Its dark, Dusty, Cold and grotty. Spiders being common, Other invertebrates even more so.

The only things in there consist of debree, A makeshift bed of old blankets, A small box containg your belongings (And ones you dont remember keeping) and spiderwebs.

You try to get out but the old trapdoor keeping you in was in suprisingly good condition, And you had no tools to help break it down.

Its only hours after you've given up trying to break down the door, Huddled in the corner with your old dirty clothing does he finally appear.

You found out that he's keeping you in some old abandoned building outside of town that he so happened to have the key for. JD tells you that its not permanent, That he'll take you back once you've realised how shoddy the world is.

You of course, Are strong-minded and refuse to play in. But you can't fight back, Can't escape so all you can do is bide your time..

JD still goes to school to avoid suspicion, Making sure that nothing leads back to him. The outside world has deemed you a body they've yet to find.

When he comes home he always brings you your food and sometimes he brings you a gift too (Something that may help you escape). He also brings you a bunch of spare clothes too.

You're unable to shower since there is no running water anywhere, Your only source of hydration being the pack of water bottles JD brought for you.

JD only comes to see you before and after school, Him going home to sleep and him being in school are the only times he's away from you.

Whenever he is with you though, He keeps rambling on and on about his own plans. How horrid the world is but how amazing you were, Almost worshipping.

He also likes for you to give him physical affection, Him laying his head on your lap is a big thing for him. He'll force you to accept it too, Despite profusely apologising the entire time.

If the topic of another man or woman you particularly like comes into play, JD will instantly darken and get violent. He doesn't like it when you bring up someone other than him, You're his angel, Not theirs.

JD is unstable and might even strike you across the face for this, Not in control of his own actions. But straight afterwards once he sees you crying on the floor in pain. He instantly goes into hundreds and hundreds of apologies, So very sorry for harming you.

He won't forgive himself either, How dare he lay a hand on you?

If you do ever give into him fully then you will be let out of the basement. JD will forge a plan that would make it seem that you were held hostage/attacked, Lost and dazed (Depending on how long you were in there). Westerberg's police, Being underfunded as they are will not look into it.

You'd probably get back to school with a shit-ton of empathy and the man who found you, Now boyfriend, Hanging on your arm with a triumphant grin.

The only way I see you escaping this is to do what Veronica should've done and drive the fuck over to Seattle, Change your name and general appearance and never show your face in Sherwood again.

However if JD does catch you then its going to be messy. This man's violent tendencies will go on overdrive, He'll scream, Cry and may even kill you out of sheer unstable anger.

Of course if he does, He'd never forgive himself. So much so that he'd feel like joining you..

Overall he's JD. Yandere posterboy. Good luck with him!

[godlywh0re]

Angels with Filthy Souls

Rust Cohle x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Notes: No use of (y/n) because i hate it :)

The night is hot, and your hair clings to your face as you swipe it away. Sweat covering you in a light sheen, sticky as it holds to you like a second skin. The weak air conditioning of the small local store does nothing to help, but neither does the ecstasy you popped in the bathroom on your break. What else were you supposed to do in a town that was too small to do anything? Where luckily everybody but their mamas minded their own business. So long as your work got done, the sleazy old man who owned the place didn’t care. 

Your fingers tremble rearranging the lighter display. Your muscles itching for any sort of stimulation as the drug courses through your veins. You think your boss likes it better when you’re high on your shift, the drugs making you too hyperactive to stand in one place. The old man usually watches you in slight astonishment when you get into a cleaning spree, scrubbing down the walls and floors like your life depends on it, creating new displays for products that keeps customers happy. But tonight, he stays tucked away in his office. He muttered something about ordering a product, but it was lost on you now.

The bell that hangs beside the entrance door rings, signaling a customer had come in. You don’t notice him at first—too caught up in the rush, your heart beating too fast, skin buzzing with a warmth that has nothing to do with the heat outside. But out of curiosity and obligation, you look up. Breath almost catches in your throat as you size him up unapologetically. 

He’s tall, lean, an air of exhaustion hanging around him as he walks. His hair is pulled back low and his eyes— Jesus, they’re dark, as if he’s seen too much. He moves steady, purposefully, like he doesn’t have time for the world, but it still owes him something. He walks right up to the counter, tosses a case of beer down, Lone Star, before he settles his eyes on you. Really settled, peeling away layers you didn’t even know you had. His eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance. You know how you look, pupils blown wide, messy hair falling all over the place. But he doesn’t look at you like others do. There isn’t any judgment, no pity. He just looks.

“They let you be all doped up on the job?” His voice is rough, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, just a hint of it. The low southern drawl of his words isn’t lost on you as heat shoots through your body.

His words hang in the air. It could’ve been a jab, but the slight amusement in his eyes made it feel like a joke only the two of you were in on. You feel a grin tug at your lips, slow and lazy, your mind still swimming in a haze. “He doesn’t care as long as my job gets done,” Your tone soft and syrupy as you shrugged half heartedly. Your fingers move to trace your collarbone nonchalantly. His eyes follow, not in the way you want them to, but more like he was just curious. “Pretty young thing like me is good for business anyways.” 

He doesn’t react much, doesn't give you that look most men do when they see an easy target, just nods like he’s seen it all before. You can’t tell if that makes you want to impress him or piss him off. Instead, he looks as though he’s trying to figure you out, a puzzle he isn’t sure he wants to solve. You should’ve felt insulted, but all it did was make your heart pound faster.

"You know a place to get downers?" His voice drops low as he leans in slightly, almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, though you two are the only ones on the sales floor. 

A shiver runs up your spine at his closer proximity, the smell of him coming over to you in wafts. Deep and earthy, the smell of a forest mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke that clings to him. “You a cop?” You ask low, a playfulness in your tone edging its way towards reckless. Hell, you couldn’t care less if he was. Whatever game that had been started was too captivating. 

He shakes his head, and for the first time, you see the hint of a smirk on his lips. "Nah," he murmurs, his voice low, gravelly. He says it without even trying to convince you. But you believe him anyway. 

"Stronger than alcohol? Not much round here like that. Whatcha sad for anyhow, Mister?" You tease, raising an eyebrow. There was something funny about it—him asking you for downers, like he was looking for something to drag him down even further. But the way he looks at you, you can tell he’s not in the mood to answer that question. Men like him don’t talk about what haunts them, not to girls like you. 

You don’t push. You lean in a little, closer now than before, letting your voice drop to a whisper. "I have some Nembutal, if you want that. Give me a ride home tonight." It was stupid, all your self-preservation draining away as you stare into his worn eyes.

There’s a pause, long, heavy silence where you think he might just walk away. He stares at you, weighing some kind of decision in his thoughts. But then he nods, real slow, like he’d already made up his mind.

 “Get your stuff.” His voice is detached, almost mechanical, but there was something in his eyes—something that said he knew exactly what he was walking into. 

You feel a rush of adrenaline run through you, or maybe it’s just the drugs. His hand digs in his pocket before pulling out a twenty for the beer. You take the crumpled bill from his hand, your fingers brushing his just for a second. It lingers, sending a jolt through you before sliding the bill into the register. The metallic clink of coins feels distant, like background noise compared to the thudding of your heart. Your palms are still sweaty, but you can’t tell if it’s from the ecstasy or him. Probably both.

His eyes stay on you as you punch in the numbers and drop his change into the tray. You could feel them—sharp, unrelenting—like he was waiting for something. You hand him the receipt without a word, the tension in the air hangs heavy, thick enough to choke on. You watch him tuck the case of beer under one arm, a cigarette already dangling from his lips as he turns and heads for the door. 

Jittery and buzzing with a thrill, you turn and head quickly to the door of the back office. You find your manager slouched in his chair, flipping through some old magazine like the world didn’t exist outside his little office. The smell of stale coffee filled the room, and the hum of the mini-fridge by his desk made everything feel even more claustrophobic.

"Hey," you say, leaning against the doorframe, "you mind if I head out early tonight? It’s dead out there, and I already closed up the till."

He barely glances up, his eyes heavy with the same indifference you’d come to expect. "Yeah, whatever," he grumbles, waving you off. "Just make sure you lock the back door before you go."

His words barely register. You’re already halfway out the door, pulse pounding in your ears. Each step toward the front of the store pushes you closer to something you can’t quite understand yet. 

After grabbing your stuff and locking the doors you head outside to the parking lot. His pickup truck rumbles low, waiting. He watches in his side mirror, cigarette pressed to his lips tight. Your heart races again—half nerves, half thrill—as you make your way to the passenger side. You notice the smashed tail light, but it feels distant, unimportant in the heat of the moment.

Sliding into the seat with a quiet shut of the door, the truck groans as it starts to take off. The Louisiana air is warm, heavy with the smell of dirt and pine, the windows are down just enough to let in a bit of a breeze. It’s quiet between you and him—this stranger whose name you don’t even know yet—but you feel the weight of his presence next to you and it’s sinking into your bones.

You glance over at him, sneaking looks when you think he isn’t paying attention. He’s focused on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near his lap, cigarette between his fingers. The smoke curls lazily into the air, mixing with the dusty haze outside. He’s older, definitely older than you, with lines on his face that time put there. His eyes are sharp, though, always looking for something, even when there’s nothing to see.

Your heart is still racing from the ecstasy, even though the high’s starting to fade. The tingling in your limbs is going, but the nervous energy, the buzz of the moment, clings to you. You’ve never felt this way before—this strange pull toward someone you’ve barely exchanged two words with. It’s like you’re waiting for something to happen, something you can’t quite name.

You shift in your seat, the leather hot and sticky against your skin, and finally, you break the silence. "You don’t talk much, do you?" It’s more of an observation than a question, but you can’t help yourself. You’re trying to figure him out, this man who walked into the store and made you feel like you were floating.

He doesn’t look at you, just takes a drag from his cigarette. "Not much to say." His voice is low, harsh, like he’s been chewing on the words before spitting them out.

You smirk, trying to play it cool, but the way his voice rumbles makes you shiver. "Could’ve fooled me. Seems like you got a lot goin' on up there."

That gets him to glance your way, just for a second. His eyes flick over you, sharp and assessing, trying to decide whether you’re worth his time. "What makes you say that?"

You shrug, turning your head to look out the window. The trees blur by, dark and thick, like they’re swallowing the road whole. "People don’t ask for downers ‘less they got something to quiet down," you murmur, your fingers tracing idle circles on your thigh, still feeling that lingering edge of the high.

He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even going to. The silence stretches between you like a rubber band about to snap. Finally, he lets out a slow breath, and you can feel his eyes on you again. "What about you? What are you trying to quiet?"

You turn toward him, a little surprised he even bothered to ask. Most people don’t. Most people are happy to let you burn yourself out without asking why, so long as you showed up to church Sunday mornings. But there’s something in his tone that makes you think he already knows you’re not going to answer, that maybe he’s not even expecting you to.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Same as anyone else, I guess,” you say, deflecting, eyes flicking back to the road. “Ain’t none of it worth talkin’ about.”

He hums, like he understands, like he’s been there before. “Fair enough,” he mutters, eyes back on the road.

“Names Rust.” He grumbles out, but the way he says it, could have made you think he was talking to himself. The silence that follows isn’t as tense, but it’s still there, lingering between you. The only sound is the hum of the engine and the occasional crack of gravel under the tires. His presence next to you feels almost suffocating, but at the same time, it keeps you anchored, like you need him there even if you don’t know why.

As you near the turn to your place, you nod ahead. “Just down that dirt road,” you say, pointing. He flicks the turn signal, even though there’s no one else around to see it. The truck bumps along the narrow path, branches scraping the sides, making the whole thing feel like you’re descending into another world, away from everything and everyone.

When the small house you call home comes into view, you suddenly feel exposed. This is it. This is your life—a rundown little place surrounded by trees, no one else for miles. And here he is, this stranger with too many shadows behind his eyes, pulling into it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

He kills the engine, and for a moment, you both just sit there in the growing dark. The air feels thick, like there’s something unsaid hanging between you, waiting to be acknowledged

“You wanna come in?” you ask, your voice softer now, unsure.

He exhales, tapping out his cigarette before glancing at you. His eyes hold yours for a long moment, searching. “Not tonight.” There’s something final in the way he says it, but it’s not cold. Just… resolute.

You nod, pretending like that doesn’t sting a little. “Suit yourself. I’ll go get those for you.” You push the door open and hop out, the cool night air hitting you like a wall after the stuffy heat of the truck. You don’t look back as you walk up to your door, but you can feel his eyes on you the whole way.

With a quick unlock of your door, you hurry off to your bathroom. It’s small, the sink not large enough to hold all the leftover medications you have. The bottles rattle as you rummage, the Nembutal is half empty as you pick it up. You think about giving him the whole bottle but you decide against it. The slight chance of him seeing you again, even if it’s just for pills, is enough to make you hold off. 

You step back outside, the Nembutal rattling lightly in your hand as you walk toward the truck. The night air feels cooler now, the weight of it settling on your skin, but it doesn’t do much to calm the nervous energy swirling inside you. The ecstasy almost completely worn off, leaving you with that familiar edge of anxiety, the dull ache of reality creeping back in.

He’s still sitting there, his truck idling low, the faint glow of another cigarette lighting up his face. You hesitate for a moment, just long enough to wonder what the hell you’re doing, before handing him the pills through the open window.

“Here,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier than you feel. “That should do it.”

He takes them without a word, his fingers brushing yours just briefly, but it’s enough to send another jolt through you. You pull back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you try to play it cool.

“Thanks,” he mutters, slipping the small bag into the pocket of his jacket. His eyes meet yours again, and for a second, it feels like he’s about to say something more, like there’s a moment hanging there, fragile and uncertain.

But he doesn’t. He just nods once, almost like a silent goodbye, and shifts the truck into gear. You stand there for a while, watching the dark swallow him up, the buzzing from the ecstasy completely gone now, leaving you with just the weight of everything. You’re not sure if you’ll see him again, but something about the way he looked at you tonight makes you think you will.