#it feels like MY heart got ripped out of my chest
Text
to hell with it
pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader
word count 5k
genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there
warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now.
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate.
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver.
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart.
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest.
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.)
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call.
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof.
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again.
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present.
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background.
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed.
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional.
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational.
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated.
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush.
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest.
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away.
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand.
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there.
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.)
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck.
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it.
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in.
but enough is enough.
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for.
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well.
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair.
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling.
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you.
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him.
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind.
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right.
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell.
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely.
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason.
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest.
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of.
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time.
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated.
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently.
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm.
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face.
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways.
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez wooyoung#ateez jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#yunhoszn
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A Marriage of Convenience
Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader
You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.
Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.
As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.
He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...
He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.
You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.
Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.
The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.
"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.
He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.
You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.
"What's up kleine Maus?"
'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.
"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."
You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.
You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.
"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.
"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."
You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.
König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.
"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.
"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.
"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.
"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.
König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.
He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.
"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.
König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily.
"A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.
You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.
"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."
There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.
"I'll marry you."
The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.
"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.
"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.
He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.
Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...
Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.
From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.
"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.
You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?
He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.
"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."
You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.
"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.
He let out another chuckle.
"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.
"What should i call you sir?"
"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.
"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"
"Your husband."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...
#konig x reader#könig x you#könig x y/n#könig x reader#konig x you#konig x y/n#loser konig#konig cod#konig mw2#cod konig#konig modern warfare#konig call of duty#könig#könig cod#könig mw2#könig call of duty
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Instead of writing my finals, I wrote this. Based on this post from @chronicowboy
Maddie bolts out the door, Hen close behind, the Buckleys already on their way to inform the guests of the… delay, leaving Buck and Eddie standing there like lost NPCs.
To be honest, Buck feels like one. His head is still pounding so much he can’t hold a rational thought for more than a moment. His movements are still sluggish, each gesture enough to make him feel like he’s back on that sinking cruise ship.
Eddie scrubs his hands over his face and lets out a noise that’s half sigh, half groan. “We are never doing that again, right?”
“Never,” Buck agrees. He looks at his best friend, really looks at him, for the first time since finding him in the empty hot tub. His suit is completely ruined. Stains and tears and wrinkles tell a story Buck only half remembers. Somewhere between karaoke and the fifth bottle of champagne, Eddie’s shirt got ripped to shreds. Why? Buck doesn’t know. He’d never complain, don’t get him wrong. The suit jacket only covers so much, leaving Eddie’s chest bare and enticing.
But…
The collar is the only remaining piece of fabric from the shirt. Buck can’t help but wonder if there’s some kind of irony, or deeper meaning behind it still being buttoned around Eddie's neck. Last night was the first night since they met that Eddie actually let loose. His smile and his entire being was so free and beautiful, even in the little moments Buck hardly recalls. And yet that collar remained through the whole night, keeping him captive. His captor? Himself.
“C’mere,” Buck says, a little too soft, a little too fond.
“What?” Eddie steps closer despite his confusion.
Buck reaches up to unbutton the collar. His knuckles brush Eddie’s throat. He feels the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. Buck looks into his eyes as he unbuttons the fabric. Eddie’s pupils are blown wide, keeping Buck from looking away. He slowly pulls the collar from around his neck and folds it up before tucking it into the pocket of Eddie’s jacket. He smooths his hand over it, feeling the rapid thump of Eddie’s heart beneath his palm.
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, still looking into his eyes.
They’ve drifted closer in the short time they’ve been standing there. So close Eddie has to look up at him. Buck takes him in- his mussed hair, his wide eyes, his plush pink lips. Lips Buck knows he caught himself staring at most of the night.
“Eds.” Buck trails his fingers down the lapel of his jacket.
Echoing footsteps cause Buck to step back, probably more than a respectable distance away. He feels cold suddenly, his heart faltering in its too fast rhythm.
Hen appears in the doorway, still looking a little pissed. “What’s holding you up? You lost him, you help find him!”
Buck and Eddie share a look before following Hen.
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Hi! Could you share some favorite Bruno headcanons? Love your blog ❤️
Aweee, thank you so much!! ❤️
Of course!! Here’s a list!! :)
My Favorite Bruno Headcanons!!
He’s got a tan line on his chest from his suit! Lingerie!Bruno also has tan lines from the lace. 😭
Bruno takes pride in his grooming habits. He’s got a whole skincare routine that gives him the softest, glowiest skin that radiates this godlike, ethereal aura.
He smells like freshly-washed sheets and nice cologne. The cologne he wears is softer on the nose—contains notes of vanilla and lavender. (I imagine his cologne smells like Le Male Le Parfum. If you haven’t smelled it—you need to.)
His zipper charms jingle when he walks.
The place he lives is covered in his signature print. His bedspread? It’s that upside-down pull tab pattern. Towels? Absolutely. His walls??? Covered in wallpapers with his print.
As much as he enjoys taking you out on dates, he prefers nights in at his place. Staying in is much more intimate—the two of you can hold each other close while sipping on some nice wine and enjoying each others’ favorite media.
Speaking of which, Bruno loves sharing his favorite media with you. Whether it be listening to the music of Miles Davis or cuddling up to Il Postino, he’s honored that you take interest in his favorite things. And of course, he loves hearing about it the things you like. It warms his heart when he watches you get all excited and happy as you infodump.
He’s a romantic lover, but not a cheesy one. His acts of love are genuine—he’d do anything just to see your beautiful smile.
It’s stated he enjoys Miles Davis, so it’s evident he enjoys Jazz Fusion. I believe he’s also into prog rock and classical. He has a nice vinyl collection.
Bruno is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to wine. He appreciates the art of it and enjoys wine tasting.
Bruno doesn’t drink a ton of wine—a glass with dinner is usually the extent of it. He likes to keep his mind clear and sharp in case a situation arises, prepared for anything. He doesn’t use any substances other than alcohol. (As much as I like the idea of taking bong rips with Bruno, we all know it wouldn’t happen. MAN I wish it would though.) If he were to get drunk, it would take him about 4 drinks.
In a world where nobody died, Bruno was promoted to Underboss after Giorno took over.
Bruno takes a lot after his dad; he’s got that protector complex. Children pick up and model behavior from their parents. His dad wanted to protect his family from the cruelties of the world, so it’s no doubt he would feel the need to protect you too. He’ll sacrifice his whole self just to keep you safe. (I go into a lot of detail about this in this post.)
He has a fuck ton of money (he is underboss, after all), but he’s still a reasonable spender. Growing up poor, he likely inherited some of his parents’ spending habits. It’s not that he won’t get nice things for himself every once in a while (nothing too egregious,)—I just don’t believe he’d buy himself a mansion.
…you did ask for a list of favorites, and my favorites happen to include some NSFW ones. They’re under the cut ;)
Bruno Bucciarati isn’t shy with his tongue. He loves oral sex—and he’s damn good at it, too. (all that sweat-licking has given him practice 😂) Tasting you is his biggest turn-on to him—it’s as if he’s tasting your arousal.
He’s a switch, able to play the role of a tormenting dom, or a discomposed sub.
Dom!Bruno revels the power in-balance between the two of you. He’s a highly ranked member of Passione, for one. He wants to make sure you know your place—maybe he’ll make you call him by his last name instead of Bruno as a way to “respect” him, giving you an even greater sense of subordinancy. He also happens to be the wielder of Sticky Fingers, which, come on—he definitely uses his ability in the bedroom. Sticky Fingers is the best stand for sex. (And I am willing to bet money on that.) His ability can be used to separate things, attach you to things, dismantle your body, etc, etc, etc…. You can get incredibly creative with those zippers. And come on, he tortures people. No doubt he’ll wanna carry some of that freaky attitude into the bedroom with him.
Bruno is always in control of everything, so relinquishing his authority and letting someone else take control can be an incredibly freeing sensation. Sub!Bruno becomes intoxicatingly high off your touch, slowly unraveling until he’s a complete mess, having lost all sense of composure.
#bruno bucciarati#bruno buccellati#bucciarati#buccellati#bruno bucciarati x reader#bruno buccellati x reader#jjba x reader#jovia joestar writes#i took a lil while to stew on these#just to see which ones came to mind the most#these are them#these are the ones that just pop into my head when im taking a shower or driving or somethin#I have bruno shower thoughts lol#coochellati asks
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sleeping on the highway tonight, i will never emotionally recover from this scene
#alex watches x files#x files#dana scully#fox mulder#scully x mulder#msr#it feels like MY heart got ripped out of my chest#this show is pure cocaine#her nails scratching the fabric because she is trying to crawl inside of him??? her SOBS????#mulder looking like he's falling apart on the inside#god this episode was the most emotionally taxing so far#somehow nothing is worse than creepy#abusive men
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Just completed the “Death Incarnate” quest.
#dear god#I am in utter shock#skyrim#skyrim dark brotherhood#dark brotherhood#the dark brotherhood#skyrim memes#skyrim spoilers#skyrim oc#skyrim cicero#I feel like I just got my heart ripped out of my chest#my art
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God NOOO the part of my big speaker that the charger plugs into is now completely broken and it’s dead and I’m so fuckimg upset this speaker is my favorite/most important thing I own and also frankly the only thing that stands between me and a suicide attempt most of the days I spend at home w my mom and her boyfriend 💀💀💀💀
#this literally feels like my heart just got ripped out of my chest#no more music……#life is such BULLSHITTTT#like this is genuinely one of the worst things that could’ve possibly happened to me today#like I’d take our electricity getting shut off again over this#at least that would be temporary
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*sobbing into a pillow* i miss kimchay
#rewatching kinnporsche and having feelings#i haven't even gotten to kimchay yet#i just saw jeff's face in the intro and felt like my heart has been ripped out of my chest stepped on and then thrown off a cliff#maybe if i wish for it enough tomorrow i'll wake up in a universe where kimchay got a spin-off series and a happy ending on screen#kimchay#tea's ramblings#i want to work on my fics but i'm so tiredddd#i'm incapable of moving#i dragged too many boxes and suitcases up three flights of stairs today#my poor noodle arms are dead
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the worst part about being a sensitive person is experiencing horrendous overwhelming emotions and then just having to go about your day and tasks normally
#like had a mini anxiety attack and got my heart ripped out of my chest last night#slept like shit#and now I have to go be a peppy upbeat camp counselor all week#and try to not be completely consumed by these awful feelings#life’s so fun#so yeah fair warning my blog could become a wasteland this week#cuz this is the only social media I can post about this situation without feeling like I’m performing and seeking someone’s attention
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How do u know if its love or mental illness?
#I'm so fucked up in the head#so glad I have therapy later#love#bpd#bipolar#fawn response#like ugh I am so fucking afraid of myself#I take a look at my past 3 relationships and I have absolutely devastated all three of them and I don't want to hurt anyone else#but I'm literally 3 for 3 in the ruining lives department and like okay yeah 1 and 2 eventually got over it and moved on but what if 3#never does? I mean I guess its all so new and raw but like I feel so awful. I feel like I'm never allowed to love again until I can like#not hurt people? but I think we are all always gonna hurt people. ugh love is so stupid I wish I could just turn it off!!#I wish I could just rip it out of my chest and fucking kill fucking beat the shit out of my heart so it never dares to feel or want again#and then I get surprised when I tell people that and they look at me like they're going to cry#why in the world should I be allowed to love?? when it clearly does so much damage??#and then its worse right because then when I love someone I google the symptom of every fucking mental illness imaginable. bpd. bipolar.#adhd. autism. you name it I've searched it. and like I have bipolar so then I start invalidating my own love. I tell myself things like#oh youre just manic and thats making you think that this person is in love with you. oh you're just manic you think you are the center of#everyone's universe. oh you're just manic you aren't actually happy around them they just enable your ugly illness#and then like the things in question that are making me think this as like totally valid and normal things#like oh you're just manic you think they love you- my brother in christ they remember the smallest details about me and always know how to#make me laugh. we can't lock eyes longer than a few seconds before we both smile etc etc etc#but then it gets analytical- you know? bc then my brain is like ok we have to disprove our own personal bartholomuel that nafty brainworm#but you cant logically analyze something like love I don't think#right and then like I'm so deep in this hole of analyzing I start running the simulations of all the damage I'll do if/when it ends poorly#because I'm a piece of shit and I always always always go stir crazy and lose myself in it and panic and try to run and then bury my own#personality and wants and needs bc I want so badly to be loved I subconsciously shape shift myself into their ideal partner#right okay so then I'm minmaxing it- I'm speed running the imaginary relationship in my brain start to finish every single day and living#in a fake scenario where we break up every single day thousands and thousands of times over and none of that even happened#its like- because I have to prove to myself that its pure and genuine love and not mental illness or attachment or pure lust allows this#evil part of my brain to just take over and go hog wild torturing me with all these awful situations that don't even exist!!
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legitimately just finished the book "the first to die at the end" and this is the only book I've ever read in my entire life that I've been ugly crying sobbing hysterical. and no, I'm not over exaggerating. /srs
#diabolical read in the best way possible#it feels like my heart just got ripped out of my chest and stomped into a blender 20 times#cried while posting this
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don't cry bobby durango singing fuck me in the ass in the car with your mother forever and ever ok
#I AM NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN.#my heart just got ripped out of my chest and it's sitting on my fuckinf sheets rn what do i do about thi#this#i hope nobody has to feel like this ever
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One of your favorite Spotify playlists getting deleted by its creator is like losing a favorite sweatshirt. I don't know how else to explain it, I'm just gutted.
#it was a playlist for the book Psalm for the Wild-Built#it was so good#and now its gone#i've checked every single remaining playlist under the same name#no dice#feel like my heart got ripped out of my chest
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.
#super corny and annoying but I got my heart split in two#I’m throwing up my meals#can’t hold water down to save my life#my chest hurts so much#taking pain killers doesn’t hurt#I’ve been almost down right abusing my anxiety meds#I try sleeping everything off#it’s only been two days#I just want things to get better#I don’t have transportation so I can’t numb it out by being super social#I’m alone and I don’t want to be alone#I feel like someone’s ripped me open and every interaction hurts so so so much#I feel raw and exposed#it feels like a sin to want to be loved#to want to be held#and everyone’s saying oh good for you you deserve better#that I won in this situation#I feel like Icarus#I desire love. I want to taste it on my tongue. I want it to want me. I want to be held and feel alive in its warmth#and at every turn there’s only deceptions and illusions#I wish I could sufficate myself to end my pain#I want a scapegoat#I want to be mad and push blame at something#I want to gnaw at it with my teeth until I have nothing but gums left#I feel sick#I just want to feel better#I want to know that it’s not a mistake to love that it’s meant for me too#but I really don’t think it is#I feel like damaged goods. unfit and unsuitable for human consumption#anyways.
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TW: nsfw, dubcon, coercion, bullying
fem reader
Your bully says he’s always been curious about what it’s like to fuck a geeky good girl like you—and that he’ll leave you if you let him have a taste.
You knew he was probably mostly joking when he offered… but you were sick and tired and perhaps a little desperate for the chance of him finally leaving you alone—so you balled your fists within his shirt, dragged him inside an empty classroom, and told him he could do whatever he wanted.
You don’t know who was more surprised.
He never knew you to be so brazen—but it’s not like you’re some blushing virgin, either.
You have experience. However, most of that experience is with nicer guys… not someone like him…
It’s not like you expected him to go easy on you, but still…
You bruise against the desk he has you bent over on—dewy-faced and panting, lying cheek-down in your own drool as he fucks full-chested moans right out of you. He snickers when your thighs shake, whistling with a grin when feeling your tight cunt flutter around him—slick dripping to the floor in a little puddle.
“You’re so wet it’s embarrassing.” He laughs.
He’s got your arms tussled behind your back, using your shirt as bindings—having balled your skirt up around your waist in two tight fists, knuckles white while using it to keep you still as he pounds into you with a mean snap of his hips.
Your heart drops when you hear a rip. A second time when, you feel his movements still, and a thick warmth starts to fill you.
“Ah—fuck—don’t squeeze so tight—I’m ‘bout to—” He grunts, but it’s already too late once he pulls out.
Panting heavily as his cock drips with the last drop—hunched over—his eyes fall to your glossy cunt, half-mast while staring at the way his cum slowly leaks out of the still-fluttering little hole.
He feels a cute-aggressive urge to slap it but doesn’t want to get his hand all sticky.
He pulls his pants up instead, only bothering to button his shirt up halfway, tie hanging loosely around his neck. Anyone with eyes could guess what he’d been doing with his sweaty hair and that flushed look on his face.
And yet he starts leaving without a care or a word.
Already halfway out the door before you get your wits back.
“No—wait!” You warble, unknotting your sleeves to wrap your shirt around you. “You can’t leave me like this—my skirt…” You hold the tattered piece up for him to see, showing him the tear he’d made, rendering it unwearable.
His hand is still on the doorknob, only bothering to acknowledge you with a jaded look over his shoulder. “How’s that my problem?”
Your brows cinch that pitiful way it always does. That cute way that has his gut bubble and fizz. “Please…” You plead, and it’s almost enough to make his cock perk up again. “Just bring me a skirt from lost and found… please?”
He sighs—the door at his back as he leans against it with arms folded upon his chest. “Tch—and what's in it for me?”
You nibble your lip in thought—but you already know the answer.
“I’ll be better at it next time—just... please?”
“Hm…” He hums in thought, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, tugged as if your words had pulled it with string. “Wait here, I’ll be back.”
The door closed with a click, and you were left in the classroom alone.
A few minutes passed. You doubted his return.
You could always call a friend… but you didn’t want to get anyone into any trouble—calling them when they’re in class. Also, how would you even explain it to them? What type of person skips class to have sex in an empty classroom? Not to mention, they’d ask who you’d done it with—and there was just no way you could tell them. It’d be too embarrassing—you might just die—and if anyone else ever found out, he’d more likely kill you himself.
Well… suppose you could always make the run to Lost and Found yourself. The hallways should be mostly empty at this hour, but there’s really no guarantee.
In the end, the thought of someone catching you in cum-soaked panties makes you hold onto all hope that your bully would return as he’d said.
And fifteen minutes later, he does. Black school skirt in one hand and strawberry milk in the other. Seemed he’d taken the time to stop at a vending machine.
But you don’t care. Breathing out a sigh of relief—gratitude on your lips as you leap over to him. “Thank you—”
You eagerly accept the skirt—putting it on just as quickly.
He leans back against the door again, sipping his carton while watching you fall still with dismay. Humored at the pout that takes your lips as you look up at him with those pitiful doe-eyes.
“This is too short…”
He hides his smile with a tilt of his head. “Oh?” He grabs his jaw and pretends to assess your bottom half with focus. “Hmm… turn around, lemme see.”
You listen trustingly—as though you actually believe he cares. It almost makes him laugh out loud at how fucking gullible you are. But he keeps his act tight. Humming at the sight of the skirt only barely covering the crease of your cute ass.
“You’re right—something’s off.” He admits.
You look back at him just in time to see his smirk before he grabs you.
Keeping you still with an arm wrapped around your waist, he tips you over and grabs your panties—pulling them despite your body's protests as you wiggle in his hold. You cry as the fabric wedges up between your asscheeks, kicking your legs behind you until feeling it rip.
“There you go…” He coos while letting go of you, twirling the torn string in his hand. “Now it fits perfectly.”
He chuckles at the pretty tears clumped upon your lashes as you look at him with your lip tucked between your teeth until you finally get the grit to say what’s on the tip of your tongue.
“You’re an asshole.”
He sneers with a smile and bags your panties in his pocket—then turns around and opens the door. Leaving you worse off than before.
“Never said otherwise, buttercup.”
BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Shigaraki, Hawks, Shinso, Kirishima
JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji
DS – Akaza, Sanemi
HQ – Kuro, Miya twins
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere boyfriend#boyfriend#boyfriend scenarios
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