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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 months ago

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Sweet Pumpkin Chapter 1

Summary: Bucky is struggling with the dating world and knows that if he ever hopes to have a serious relationship, that he needs to get through his touch deprivation issues. It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch people, or them to touch him, but after decades of pain he doesn’t know how to accept physical intimacy from others, or how to give it himself. He hires Y/N, an intimacy coach and professional cuddler, who comes highly recommended. Will his heart be able to distinguish between a service given versus real love?

Warnings: mentions of past violence and past sexual assault, language, physical intimacy, eventual smut

**curvy reader

Next chapter

Bucky had walked out on his date. He rubbed his face harshly in embarrassment and shame. She seemed nice, but was overly flirtatious, and kept reaching out and touching his hand, his arm, even ran her fingers through the front of his hair, then had all the audacity to trace her finger over his lower lip. He’d pulled back harshly at that point, excusing himself to the bathroom, but instead swerved to the host stand, paid for the food and ran like his life depended on it. He’d gotten home and immediately showered, scrubbing the spots she’d touched nearly raw. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be touched. He actually wanted it…craved it. But not like that. She was a stranger, and had felt some kind of entitlement to his personal space right off the bat.

He’d heard of people who suffered from touch starvation. Sam had hinted at it once when Bucky flinched away from the friendly touch of a fellow agent they had been working with on a stealth mission. Bucky knew he had a problem, but didn’t realize just how bad it was until the date. He sighed harshly as he dried himself off from the shower and got into his pajamas for the night. He picked up his phone and texted Sam.

B: What was the name of that intimacy coach you had mentioned?

S: Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll send you her info.

Bucky thanked him once her contact information popped up on his screen. He braced himself as he clicked on her phone number. He sent her a message, being vague but asking for help. He didn’t expect to get an answer back, seeing as how it was almost 11:00 p.m., but was surprised when she texted back within a few minutes.

Y/N: I’ve been wondering when you would reach out. How does Friday at 7:00 p.m sound?

Bucky gawked at her message.

B: Do we know each other?

Y/N: No, Sam just talks too much. ;)

He rolled his eyes. Of course Sam had already talked to her about him.

B: Now I’m worried.

Y/N: Don’t be.

B: Okay. Friday at 7.

Y/N: Awesome. Here’s my address…

***

Friday at 6:57 Bucky stood outside her door. He was fighting off his panic and stress. He needed this. This would be good for him. If he ever hoped to move on and have some semblance of a normal life he’d have to be able to accept love from others. He wanted this. He swallowed harshly and sighed before knocking on the door.

There were shuffling sounds from the other side and then it swung open. A woman stood in front of him that looked like the physical embodiment of softness. She was short, plump, and dressed in an all-off-white sweater and sweatpant outfit that looked like it was made of faux sherpa. She smiled up at him pleasantly, her eyes twinkling.

“Sergeant Barnes?” she asked.

Bucky just stared at her for a moment. Even her voice was soft. He nodded before clearing his throat. “Bucky. Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yep,” she nodded. “Come on in.” She stepped back and held her arm out as a welcome gesture. Bucky gave her a quick, tight smile before walking inside. As she shut the door behind him he looked around her apartment. It was just as soft as she was. All the colors were muted with pastel greens, more off-whites mixed with rich browns from wooden accents littered around the decor. There were plants all along the windows, and since nightfall was setting in she had an array of small lamps on and candles lit around the main living room. In one corner of the room was a large mattress covered in the softest looking blankets and pillows he’d ever seen. Every surface seemed soft and cozy.

“Are you thirsty? I can get you some water, soda, juice, even alcohol if you need some liquid courage,” Y/N asked from behind him.

Bucky turned to look at her. She was watching him, the side of her mouth upturned in a small smirk. He felt like she could see through him, making him feel unnerved but also strangely understood at the same time. “I’m alright for now, thank you.”

Y/N nodded and then walked past him to one of the large chairs near the furthest window. “Well, how about you make yourself comfortable and tell me why you’re here?” she said, plopping down on the chair and grabbing a notebook and pen on a small side table sitting next to it.

Bucky blinked before toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket on the hook near the front door. He slowly walked over to the chair opposite her and sat down. She was watching him again, the smirk never leaving her face. “Well, uh, I’m not sure how much you already know about me and my past,” he started, his hands wringing in his lap, not quite meeting her gaze.

Y/N hummed. “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, born March 10, 1917, which would make you 107 years old now. Grew up in Brooklyn, New York. Drafted to join the army in WWII, where you were unfortunately captured, experimented on and tortured by Hydra. You’re best friend and newly made Captain America, Steve Rogers, rescued you and other prisoners and then made a team called the Howling Commandos. You were a sniper. You fell from a train during a mission and were presumed dead in 1943. And then reappeared decades later as the fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier, where you were brainwashed and forced to do their bidding. From there it gets a bit muddy with specifics and government cover ups, but you made it out the other side a free man. And now I’m assuming you’re here talking to me of all people because after all that, you now struggle with being physically close to others because you’re afraid of more pain and being taken advantage of, yes?”

Bucky blinked at her in shock, slowly nodding his head. “Did Sam tell you all that?”

Y/N shook her head. “I do my research. Sam said you’re a great guy who just needs some help. And any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine.”

Bucky slightly smirked back at her. “And how are you friend’s with Sam?”

“I was in his grief counseling support group at the VA,” Y/N said.

“Well you know an awful lot about me, but I know nothing about you. Makes me feel a bit out of my depth,” he confessed, his eyes narrowing at her.

“What do you wanna know?” Y/N asked, setting the notebook and pen back down on the side table, lifting her feet up to sit criss-cross.

Bucky took that as an invitation to get comfortable and leaned back in the chair more. “Same stuff you know about me would be a good start.”

Her smile widened. “Alright. I’m Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. Born Y/B/D. Grew up in Queens, New York. I came from a military family, but never joined myself. I lost my brother to an IED in Baghdad. My parents died a year later from a car accident. Then I was sexually assaulted by a close friend.” Bucky frowned. “I went through a few years of severe depression, got some serious therapy then help from an intimacy coach. It made a huge impression on my life so I decided to get licensed and trained to be one, too. Now I’m here,” she said, looking around her apartment. “Any questions?” Bucky shook his head. “So what are you hoping to accomplish from this?” she asked him, reaching for her notebook again but not opening it.

He sighed again, looking down at his hands. “Sam and I talked about being touch starved. I’ve been through…a lot of shit,” he paused, swallowing harshly. “A lot of pain, in all different forms. But I want…I want to be able to open myself up to physical i-intimacy in the future,” he stuttered. “I went on a date the other night, and she was nice, but she kept touching me, and I couldn’t…I…” he shook his head, closing his eyes and frowning.

“Where did she touch that bothered you?” Y/N asked softly.

Bucky shifted in the chair, opening his eyes to glance at her. “My hand, my arm, but it was worse around my hair and my face,” he said quietly.

Y/N nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. Our heads, hair, our faces, are a lot more intimate than people think they are. So to have what I’m assuming was a stranger just randomly touch your hair and your face was triggering.” Bucky nodded. “Would it be okay if I move my chair close to yours?”

Bucky glanced at the space between their chairs. He slowly nodded and Y/N stood, dragging her chair close to where he was sitting. She sat back down and scooted the chair a little closer so that her crossed legs were next to his legs. She gave him an encouraging smile. “So how does it feel having me sit close to you like this?”

Bucky looked down at the few inches that separated their legs. “It’s fine,” he said.

Y/N nodded then scooted closer until her knees were touching his knees. “How about now?”

He could feel a small uptick in his heartbeat, but he breathed through it. “It’s…okay,” he said.

Y/N moved away from him, keeping the inches between them. “So not very comfortable,” she said with a knowing smile. Bucky huffed a silent laugh. “How about if I shook your hand?” she asked, sticking out her right hand.

Bucky quickly shook her hand. “That’s fine.”

“Because it’s formal,” Y/N assumed, her eyes narrowing at him.

“Yes,” he agreed.

She nodded again and released his hand. “Can I hold your hand?”

Bucky blinked rapidly. “Okay.” She waited for him to reach his hand out first, then leaned forward and slowly grasped his hand so that she was holding his fingers. They sat like that in silence for a moment.

“How does that feel?” Y/N asked, watching his face intently.

“It’s…” Bucky was breathing deeply, trying to keep any panic at bay. He couldn’t tell if it was the contact itself or the fact that it was contact with a pretty girl that was making his heart rate spike again. “It’s nice.”

Y/N smiled and then her thumb swept over his knuckles slowly. “And that?”

Bucky suddenly felt a rush of emotions. He couldn’t understand why, but something about her firm but gentle grasp on his fingers grounding him and then the soft affection of her thumb across his knuckles brought tears to his eyes. “That’s really nice,” he whispered, not trusting his voice.

Y/N kept holding his hand, her thumb randomly rubbing across his knuckles and squeezing his fingers lightly. She leaned forward a little more. “If I gave you permission to touch me, would that help?”

Bucky quickly sniffed then looked at her quizzically. “Touch you where?”

“My hands, my arms, my face,” she said. “The same places you were touched and unsure of.”

Bucky glanced at each spot on her body where the girl on the date had touched him. “Maybe,” he shrugged. Y/N let go of his hand and put her hands on her knees.

“Would it be easier for me to look at you while you do it or close my eyes?” she asked him.

“Close your eyes,” Bucky nodded. He wasn’t sure he could handle her deep, knowing gaze while he was allowed to touch her.

Y/N smiled at him then closed her eyes. Bucky looked at her for a long moment before reaching his hand out. He touched her right hand first, laying his hand flat on it, then paused. She didn’t move or flinch, her eyes staying closed. He then slipped his hand up to her forearm and gave it a light squeeze. Bucky then lifted his hand toward her head. His fingers were shaking as he slowly moved some of the hair at her forehead away like his date had done. Then his fingers traced down the side of her face until he was cupping her cheek.

Bucky sat there the longest. Y/N didn’t move, her face completely neutral as her eyes barely moved behind her eyelids. She was completely trusting in him. “Open your eyes,” he whispered. Y/N opened her eyes, blinking a couple of times as she looked at him. He stared at her, taking courage in her kind eyes. “She touched my lips,” he said, frowning in trepidation.

Y/N merely nodded at him. Bucky inhaled deeply, then watched as his thumb moved along her cheek until he swept it across her lower lip slowly. She still didn’t move, her gaze never straying from his eyes. When he was done he dropped his hand from her face, but didn’t lean away. “How did that feel?” she asked quietly.

“Good,” he answered just as quietly.

Y/N’s smile reappeared. “Good.” A ping from her phone had her breaking eye contact as she glanced at it. “Wow, it’s already time,” she said, leaning away from him. She smiled at him again. “I’d like for you to keep coming, Bucky, so we could work toward building your trust and comfort level with touch. Would you like to continue?”

Bucky nodded, his own smile brightening his face. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Y/N smiled even wider. “Then I’ll see you next week.”

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @cjand10 @railmesebstan

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 1 #touch starved

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stromuprisahat · 1 year ago

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theweeklydiscourse:

Had Alina reflected on Aleksander’s words to her, she might have been able to reconsider her own prejudice and how that could impact her fragile self-image and the lives of others. Alina is like a giant who is unaware of her size, she continues as she always has without any regard for her surroundings or the potentially catastrophic consequences of her actions (or inaction). When she runs from the little palace, she briefly considers the enormity of her actions and how it could affect the country before dismissing those thoughts on the basis of “Well the Darkling is clearly evil and I know in my heart that Baghra was right”. Her biased thoughts are literally RIGHT THERE but are never truly unpacked after Shadow and Bone.

Bardugo was SO CLOSE to creating this compelling narrative about the heroine realizing her internalized prejudice and going on to become a heroic figure who could save her long lost community. But, she instead opted for a far more shallow narrative that fails to grapples with the social issues she included in the story!

The Darkling decided early on how much he would disclose to Alina about his plans for the coup based on a conversation they had on the way to the palace.

I like to look back at this scene from Shadow and Bone that takes place after Alina was seconds away from being killed by a Fjerdan assassin. She denies that she is Grisha, pointing to her plain and scrawny appearance for proof of her certainty and Aleksander responds with a remark about how Alina doesn’t understand what being Grisha even means.

It’s a telling scene because it shows just how surface-level Alina’s view of Grisha is. To her, Grisha are shiny, beautiful and strong and they are prioritized over the common folk soldiers she once belonged with. Of course, Aleksander knows that there is so much more to being Grisha than just beauty, but realizes that there’s so much to unpack with Alina’s statement he doesn’t even know where to start.

This exchange explains one of the reasons why he didn’t disclose his true plans to Alina, much less his ultimate secret. If Alina has such a shallow understanding of Grisha identity, she will also have a shallow understanding of just how much is at stake in this conflict. Alina is no ordinary Grisha, so it hasn’t quite sunk in that she has skin in the game and is more significant than she realizes. Her denial of her Grisha identity (despite obvious evidence proving otherwise) Alina is staunch in her assertion that she is just a normal girl. It is that same denial that tells Aleksander that Alina cannot be viewed as reliable just yet, time needs to be taken to teach her a better understanding of the Grisha first.

This next exchange is the second reason why Aleksander doesn’t tell her. Although Alina herself may not have said that superstition out loud, but it demonstrates how Alina was exposed to those views during her formative years. It raises his suspicion that Alina may hold some remnants of the Serf’s ideas and perhaps compels him to think ahead to assess if this could grow into a potential threat. He ABSOLUTELY cannot tell her the truth anytime soon if there is even the slightest possibility that she believes that he’s soulless and “truly evil”. If Alina snitched on him, his entire operation could be shut down for good and set the Grisha back decades. Not to mention the fact that it could get a lot of Grisha killed.

“You didn’t hurt his feelings.” Dear Reader, this was only the beginning of Alina denying Aleksander’s humanity in order to avoid taking responsibility for her prejudice and to avoid the complex reality of the situation. You can almost hear the incorrect answer buzzer go off in Aleksander’s mind as Alina tells him her answer, I can almost feel his pure disappointment through the page.

Because Aleksander poses an important question that reveals one of Alina’s central conflicts that will continue throughout the trilogy. Alina is still deeply uncomfortable with the idea of Grisha powers after spending her life among people who call them unnatural and strange. To the point that it wasn’t just the fact that the assassin was sliced in two that bothered her, but because of the magic that sliced him. Why on earth would he trust her with his greatest secret when she reacts with such hesitation? He was testing her to gauge how long it would be before Alina could be trusted as an ally to Grisha and received an answer that told him it might take a while. If Alina can’t handle her the idea of her own powers, she cannot be trusted with a secret that could determine the future of Ravka.

I don’t know about you, but I fully believe that Aleksander had every intention of telling Alina the truth, it’s just that considering his personal relationship with her over the safety of his people was a risk he couldn’t take. This gets a bit muddled later on because Alina’s narration seems to care more about her personal feelings of betrayal than the consequences this plan could have on the country. She never takes a moment to look at the bigger picture and consider the consequences of her reckless actions.

I know that I’m just breaking the scene down and explaining what’s happening in it, but it truly is such an informative scene that hints at a potentially fascinating storyline.

#Grishaverse #S&B Chapter 5 #Alina Starkov #The Darkling #S&B Chapter 7 #S&B Chapter 9 #Darklina #self centred and paranoid #Genya Safin #Grisha #S&B Chapter 16 #Shadow and Bone (book)#grishanalyticritical #anti Leigh Bardugo #It's already here

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year ago

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Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin

masterlist | next chapter

You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)

A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1

Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.

Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.

On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.

Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.

Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.

On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.

At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.

Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.

Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.

The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.

Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.

His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.

Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.

Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.

Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.

Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.

Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.

“Say Uncle!” You demanded.

“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.

Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”

“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.

The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.

Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.

“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.

“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”

Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.

Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.

You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.

“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.

You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.

The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.

Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.

You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.

You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.

“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.

This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.

“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”

Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.

“Jake? — Of course.”

“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”

This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.

You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.

Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.

You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.

“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”

A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”

The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.

You just wish it would stop spinning.

“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.

But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.

Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.

It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.

Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.

Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.

Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.

Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.

But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.

Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.

…

@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot

#jake smut #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin fic #jake seresin #Glen powell #Jake hangman Seresin #top gun: maverick

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thecapricunt1616 · 6 months ago

Text

Chicory (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers.

♡ Chapter Inspo: Chicory is perfect for love spells, & sex magick, it is also a natural aphrodisiac - this being because it is a great source of the androgen hormone androstenedione. ♡ Summary: You wake up to find Carmy's dirty little book he's been hiding from you, and convince him you want to try some things out from it, too. ♡ W/C: 3.5K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/28/2024 ♡ A/N: Hellooooo!!! Happy day 3/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24)! We're getting todays party started early because I am physically incapable of sleep today I guess!! Lol anywhore - This O/S is based on ♡ This ♡ request, from my Darling Dirty Olive Martini otherwise known as the goddess herself @carmenberzattosgf ! Give her a follow NEOWW!!! I hope you love my dear Martini baby! Your other request is still in the works xoxoxo ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutty smut smut, embarrassed Carmy, unprotected sex, AFAB!Fem!Reader, Reader not described pic's are purely for vibes only, swearing, and typical TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Carmy had been dating for about 2 months, and it was an extraordinary two months. While he wasn’t the best at communication, he tried, and he tried very hard. He was an amazing learner, and would pick up what you put down the second he realized he made a mistake - do his best to fix it, and not make the same mistake again. In regards to the bedroom, your pleasure came first, it was like that from the beginning. It wasn’t something either of you discussed, it was more that Carmy was the one who did the leading most the time, and you followed & told him what did and didn’t feel good.

Most of the time, he was dead set on solely your pleasure. You could remember the amount of times you’d had penetrative sex with him, as much as you hated that you kept track, it was just in your nature to do so. He hadn’t let you go down on him yet,saying that he was ‘all good by eating you out’. On top of your lack of experience together - he also liked to have the lights off most of the time. You were much more sex forward than he was, so you just chalked it up to being shy, and didn’t think anything of it.

That was until he was sleeping one night next to you, falling asleep after eating you out for a straight 2 hours, you couldn't even remember the exact number of times he made you cum. You also weren’t sure how his jaw didn’t lock up.

The reason you had woken up at such an hour, was because your hand brushed something hard and papery under his pillow when you stuck your hand under it in search of his to hold. You carefully pulled the foreign book out, and in the dim moonlight that peeked through his navy blue blackout curtains, you read ‘BDSM Kinktionary - The ultimate guide’ and oh - had that thing been read. The spine had been very broken in, it was clear this specific book of his was well loved.

You flick through it, to see that there were multiple pages that had been dog-eared for later use. You got up quietly as to not disturb him, padding out to the kitchen where he kept the light under his microwave on. Leaning over the counter and flicking through the pages, finding the first one that had been dogeared and reading it.

Bondage - The restraint of a person, either by physical item (cuffs, rope, etc.) or instruction (known as mental bondage). Restraint can be full-body (vacuum beds, suspension) or involve a single body part such as the eyes (blindfold), mouth (ball gag), wrists or even thumbs. Bondage may include furniture like sex swings and devices like handcuffs.

It had various photos of different things mentioned and you raised your brows. “Carmy have you been holding out on me?” you whispered to yourself, a small smile on your face as you flicked to the next page that had been marked by a fold and read ;

Cockwarming / Soaking - Where one person puts their cock into their partner’s mouth, ass, or vagina (if they have one), and leaves it there for a set amount of time to, well, ‘keep warm’. Some people use it as a punishment, some people just like the feeling of it, some use it as a more intimate & sexual form of spooning/cuddling, and some use it as a method of trying to conceive after a creampie (see pg. 32).

You see a little star next to the definition made with red ink likely from a pen, and the word ‘creampie’ was underlined as well. Your mouth dropping slightly - this is likely what he wants to try. When you and Carmy did have sex, he would usually cum on your stomach, long thick white ropes of seed painting all the way up to your ribs, dragging his fingers through it before putting it to your lips to which you gratefully accepted and licked them clean. You tightened your thighs a bit at the thought.

The bedroom door popped open quietly “Babe?” Carmy said, voice gravelly and deep with sleep. You jump in surprise, nearly hitting your head on the side of the microwave as you were bent over trying to read without your glasses in such dim light. “Wha’s up-” he asked padding over. He saw the cover on the counter behind you, eyes widening and eyes flicking back to you. His cheeks go pink “Uhh.. how- how did you - shit - fuck - m-m’sorry babe it was- I-” he ran a nervous hand through his hair taking a big nervous breath.

“Cockwarming?” you said and he rubbed over his mouth and chin nervously

“It’s - i-it’s- y’don’t have t’do any a’that babe it was just a um-”

“A fantasy?” you cut him off. He bit his bottom lip roughly, swallowing thickly. His whole face and neck were red with embarrassment, he looked honestly like he could cry. Like a teen who’s porno-mags had been discovered. “I think it sounds…really hot” you grabbed the book off the counter. “I know you don’t really like getting head so-”

“S’not that I don’t like it. I just…I haven’t done it alot an’I don’t wanna embarrass myself n’stuff.” he rubbed his arm nervously and you stepped a bit closer, gently resting your hand on his chest right over his heart. You could feel it thumping against your palm like a monarch trapped in a plastic cup.

“You can’t embarrass yourself with me Carmy, we talked about it. The way our bodies react to things- how fast they react, it’s not something we can choose. I’d never judge you, is that why you didn’t wanna tell me the stuff you want to try? Cause you thought I’d think it was embarrassing?” you asked him softly.

He looked at the floor, shutting his eyes and sighing “yes” he admitted quietly, “how much did you see?” he asked nervously

“Enough, I didn’t even know that was like a thing? But it sounds hot- can we try? I mean..we dont have to- but I could go right now, if you want to” you asked. He held his hand on yours, gently squeezing it.

“I’ve never done it-”

“So we can learn together then, right? Things are most fun that way, anyways. I love doing new things with you, Carmy. It makes me feel close to you” you admitted.

He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck and holding you close. “Thank you” he muttered into your skin, the tip of his nose chilly since you two had fallen asleep with the window open last night.

“F’what baby?” you asked, rubbing over his back, your finger pads gently brushing over the little moles adorning his skin like tiny constellations you traced over in early mornings just after his alarm went off and he was still rousing for the day.

“Bein’ you” he said and kissed the fleshy bit where your shoulder met your neck and a smile graced your lips, gently petting his hair “I wanna try if you wanna try…I mean really wanna try, not just ‘cause I wanna do it, cause you actually want to” he said.

You pulled away, tilting his head to look at you “I want to.” you said, your voice honeyed with honesty and desire.

He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers.

You opened your mouth for him, gently sucking on his tongue when he slipped it in your mouth since you know how much you both liked it and he moaned softly, gripping your ass tighter and pulling at the skin. You smirked into the kiss, pulling off after a few moments with a pop

“Want y’to touch me” you said sweetly, gently kissing the corner of his slightly parted lips, his breath coming out in soft warm pants against your cheek.

“Mm” he hummed softly reaching one of his hands under you, gently rubbing at your clit “y’sore?” he asked softly “I wasn’t too rough earlier was I?” he questioned as you kissed down his jaw, and over the hickeys, you’d left a few days ago on his neck. He wasn’t too stressed about them because he would just tell anyone at work to fuck off and there wasn’t going to be another friends and family night for a few weeks.

“No love, m’okay, that was so nice earlier. Made me feel sooo good, Are you ok?” you gently stroke his jaw with your hand and he smiles a bit

“Yes babe, m’fine. Feel good?” he asked and rubbed a bit firmer, in response your hips jerked a bit in his hands and a little breathy oh escaped your throat

“Yes jus’ like that babe feels so good, I love your pretty strong hands” you lovingly kiss his temple, resting your forehead on his “I fuckin’ love it when you touch me like that, bear” you said and his cock twitches in his boxers beneath you, already hard in briefs. It never took him much, but especially when you used his name.

That name, his nickname. The name only the closest people in his life called him, the name that coming from you - made him feel confident, strong, dominant. “Can’t fuckin’ focus when y’bein so sweet baby c’mere” he pulls his lips to yours again, pushing your panties to the side, breaking the kiss of course to ask “thas’ok right?” carefully rubbing his fingers through your slick

“Mmhmm, Course sweet boy - Feel how wet I am? All f’you baby. Y’so sexy, and so brave for telling me what you want from me, hmm? My brave Bear” you gently play with his curls, combing through them with your fingers. He kissed you again, cock grinding up against your pelvis unintentionally. You knew how much praise turned him on, he yearned for it. He carefully pulled back your hood, brushing the rough pad his middle finger over the sensitive bud.

You whine into his mouth, hips jerking at the sudden, intense bolt of pleasure and in retaliation you took his bottom lip between your teeth and pull gently. Your eyes then fluttered open to see his hooded blue eyes darkened with need, long eyelashes fluttering his cheeks when he blinked.

You sucked his lip between yours, sucking gently on it as he carefully trailed his hand down your slick folds, spreading your nether lips with his fingers a sticky click being heard when that same torturous middle finger that was teasing your innocent clit a few moments prior, breached your dripping entrance. Your mouth falls open, letting his lip snap back into place and a moan tumbles from your own lips.

“Yes- fuck yes baby” you sat back a bit to take another knuckle in and he buried his finger to the palm, curling it and uncurling it around your gummy walls, a lewd wet schlick noise coming from your pussy as he did so

“Sound so pretty” he breathed arching his finger a bit deeper and brushing against that lovely spongey little spot that made your clit pulse and fire grow in the pit of your belly. “Want another princess?” He asked, and unable to speak, you nodded, jaw dropped. You grind down onto his hand once he added his ring finger, rolling your hips so you were essentially riding his hand as he continued rolling his fingers and pressing on that spot.

You were feeling that heat shooting to your core, your juices leaking down his palm, and wrist, droplets racing down his veiny forearm to nestle in the crook of his elbow. “Oh- oh-fffffuuuck” you whined out, rolling your hips quicker as you chased your high. “Mm so sweet - y’so sweet Carmy- letting me use your hand like this, thank you” you give him a hot, wet kiss, lingering for a moment.

“Lemme help you mm?” He pushed your back to lay over him fully, cheek pressed to his chest “I like takin’ care’a’my girl” he said and quickly matched your pace with his fingers, continuing to curl them into that spot with every thrust in to his palm. He groaned softly at the short high pitched little whimpers you made as you went slack over his chest, your hips twitching as your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers, sucking them back in each time he pulled out.

“Feels so good- sososo good” you rambled, nearly drooling on his chest you were so far away in your orgasm.

“Y’always do so good princess, always so good, can y’give me one more? Ye’? Then you can fall asleep on m’cock mm? You’d like that I bet, you always whine when I pull outta you” he said hotly in your ear, voice thick with lust and pure need. This was the game you two played, he would fuck you absolutely dumb, so that he got comfortable enough to talk dirty thinking you wouldn’t remember what he said or that you were too caught up in your own nearly atomic orgasms he was determined to lure out of you to be able to hear him properly.

“Need it- need it- want you-“ you choke on your words, hips arching into his touch as he continued his assault on your gspot, this time adding his forefinger. “There- there right fuckin there I’m- I’m gonna make a mess shit fuck-“ you sob out, thighs nearly shaking with pleasure. “Carmy Carmy- Carmy- oh!” His name fell from your lips like an invocation.

“Thas it pretty girl. Fuck- so fuckin hot- make a fuckin mess all over me angel.” He massaged that spot with his fingers, the heel of his palm giving delicious friction to your clit that was causing your brain and your mouth to disconnect, the string of lewd swears and filthy moans going unheard by you as you were pretty sure your vision went white behind your shut lids and your legs went fully numb for a moment.

You came back a few minutes later to him whispering praise into your hairline, littering little kisses over it and gently brushing your wet sweaty hair from your forehead. “So so good baby. Always so good f’me huh? Y’gonna let me take care’a’you now?”

You picked your cheek up from his chest, your skin sticking to his and pulling away like scotch tape, slow since you weren’t in a rush to move being so exhausted and very comfortable where you were. “Hey you, gonna lemme clean you up so we can try this thing out?” He carefully brushed your baby hairs from your face that were wild and curly with sweat from the encounter.

In response you hum softly, in agreement, throat feeling dry as you sat up to let him move. He carefully reached over you, opening his night drawer and grabbing the feminine wipes he kept in there for you, as well as grabbing your water bottle from the tabletop.

He holds the straw to your lips “big sip f’me, ye’?” He cradled the back of your head gently. You leaned in, taking the sip he requested, and as soon as the icy water he assured your cup stayed filled with passed your lips one sip turned in to a few big gulps, eyes shutting in bliss. “Goood girl.” He praised gently. Hearing the bubbles at the bottom a few moments later, meaning you’d hit ice and it was empty so you pulled away, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips

“Thanks” you said softly and pecked his shoulder with your chilly ice water lips gently.

“You go do what you gotta do, I’m gonna fill this up mm?” He kissed your head and got up, heading to the kitchen. You went to the restroom, making sure to wash your hands which you know he did as well since you heard the kitchen sink while you were sitting on the toilet rubbing your tired face.

By the time you got back, he was already switching out the fitted sheet for a clean dry one, in clean boxers - his problem still evident, standing tall and tugging at the fitted fabric. “Carm” you said softly and he looked up at you

“Hey baby- y‘waters there got you a granola bar if you want it too. Wasn’t sure if y’just wanted to go to sleep but i'd love if you had a bite or two-

” he goes on. The only time you had a hard time getting him to stop talking was when he felt as if you needed taking care of, turning into the male version of his sister, as you’d quickly found out how she treated him the few times you’d met her.

“Carmy” you said again, stopping his rambling. “What about the book- the cockwarming thing? Did you…you don’t wanna do that with me anymore?” You slipped out of your now wet panties and flicked them into the laundry basket.

“Oh- oh-“ he watched them fly and land on your shared pile of dirty clothes from the week of you sleeping over. “Uh- no- I-I mean yes yes I wanna do it with you, I can um…let me get a condom just in case I like- accidentally-“ you stopped him once more

“If you came inside me on accident I think that would be really hot.”

He stopped digging through the drawer and looked over at you, cheeks flush. “Did you…take your thing?” He asked, like it was a secret. You laughed a bit at his boyish awkwardness regarding woman’s products.

“I don’t take a thing the thing meaning my implant is in my arm. I’m never at risk with it for pregnancy, well - shouldn’t be - but it’s like a 98% thing…I also am pretty irregular? So I dunno” you shrugged a bit “but irregular means I probably won’t be pregnant, especially on birth control, so.” You explained.

“Okay- um- yeah. Yeah.” He said, pulsepoint visible in his neck from how hard his heart was pumping in anticipation for what was to come next. “So- alright. You- you wanna be on top? I- I don’t wanna like..crush you” he said and you nod excitedly

“I love sleeping on you! I’m gonna fall asleep, is that ok?” You asked as he slipped his boxers off, cock kissing his naval in greeting as it springs up from its previous restraints. The tip was so pretty and cherry pink, glistening with precum at the tip. Every time you saw it like this you just wanted to fall to your knees and take as much of the beautiful thick length down your throat as you could - but that was a line to still not be crossed by you two.

“Ye’ s’fine baby. As long as y’re ok w’me wakin’ up hard as fuck I’m probably gonna dream about fuckin you feelin you like that all night” he admits, laying in the middle since you were sleeping together and getting comfortable for you. You crawled on the bed and took his shirt that you’d been wearing fully off so you could be chest to chest, and drape over him like earlier.

This time, he spread you out with his hands, one on each cheek and guided your hips so his tip was nestled snugly against your entrance. “I’m okay as long as you’re okay” you said truthfully and sunk back on his throbbing cock. He grunted a bit, biting his lip and shutting his eyes for a moment. You knew he did that now when he didn’t want to cum too quickly, just from being with him a few times, you picked up on stuff like that just like he did.

“Y’so fuckin tight” he breathed once he was able to relax again, wrapping his strong arms around your back and you thought he was going to push you down, seat you fully on his cock - but, no he…he’s hugging you. He’s continuing to let you sink down as slow as you want. When you finally were seated to the hilt, he places a chaste kiss to your jaw. “Thank you.” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lashes kissing and tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter shut.

“Thank you Bear. Always treat me so nice” you continued gently playing with his curls as his hands gently rubbed over your upper back, tracing the curvature of your shoulders with his fingers.

“Oh I’d say it’s the other way around princess, you always make sure I get what I want - y’too good”

To that, you just smiled, falling asleep a tiny smirk on your face - knowing it was the other way around, you knew he’d never agree.

But you both wouldn’t have it any other way.

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nevernonline · 1 year ago

Text

✧.* grow as we go; smau masterlist

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 start date: october 2nd 2023

𐦍 updates: mainly mondays or thursdays.

𐦍 tag list - open

𐦍 note/s: a lot of what will be written is mainly as journal entries from the readers perspective!! in the beginning every other chapter or so will have a written entry. I'm mainly using ulzzang pictures for our main character. I'll be posting the profiles and introduction sometime tomorrow probably. the girlies love indie musicians & harry styles,srry.. I hope u enjoy, hehe. ily!

𐦍 chapters under the cut.

𐦍 profiles:

001 | 002 | 003

𐦍 journal entries:

part one;

00. introduction.

#1. super sleuths.

#2. the case of the cyberbullies.

#3. two robots fell in love.

#4 the fall of the empire.

#4.5 plan b?

#5. chronic memory keeper.

#6. quit!

#7 snake in the grass.

#8 not the bath mat.

#9 seeing red

#10 nerd heard?

#11 devil in disguise.

#12 stolen heart.

#13 gut feelings and emotional dealings.

#14 dressing for revenge.

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 1)

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 2)

#16 the part we play.

#17 happy trails

#18 damage control.

#19 anywhere you go.

#20 lost and found.

#21 we're so back.

#22 end it all.

#23 signing off for now.

#24 epilogue.

part 2; (coming soon)

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stromuprisahat · 7 months ago

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stromuprisahat:

Even of we look at it through era-appropriate lens- there's no GOOD memory. Sure, slap your kid a little- this is 19th-esque century- but screaming and punishments shouldn't be the ONLY thing they remember! How much more interesting could Alina's relationship with AK be, if she remembered switch AND warm hugs. It could be more complex, nuanced- loving "mother", still subjected to age-appropriate mentality and values! But no, we got Anne Cunt, Baghra 2.0...

Hello! I loved your post about Baghra and how she is a glorified egoist and super toxic!!!

I would like to know your opinion about Ana Kuya, the terrible woman who screwed and oppressed Alina when she was still a child!!!

⚠️TW!: Domestic violence and abuse!⚠️

Thanks, anon!

Apparently that's a similarity that they share, the Darkling and Alina. They both had shitty, abusive mothers. And in Ana Kuya's case it's pretty much the same. She was physically abusive and Alina and Mal remember her fondly. And that's the problem. Instead of having the characters admit that she was a horrible mother figure, we have them look back on her punishments as something...worth to be remembered fondly??

Let's dive in her most fucked-up moments.

Talking shit about the children she's assigned to look after. Alina and Mal both heard her but she's still an icon in their eyes! 😍

No 'cause imagine comparing your mother figure to some blood-thirsty creatures with sharp claws and teeth that live and thrive in darkness.

Uhh...

Excerpt No. 1, in which the protagonists talk about Ana Kuya's physically abusive behaviour.

A LETTER?!

Girl, if I were you I would say adiós and never look back. What letter are you talking about?? 😭

Ana Kuya being responsible of Alina's shame for wanting to get it on with a man. This woman and her morals are imprinted in her mind.

Imagine having to spend your last day with your love and choosing to talk about her. And the memory is again toxic 🥹

Other couples: "Let's talk about our happy memories"

Malina: "Let's talk about how our mother abused us"

They have literally zero good memories from her. Only shouting and beatings.

Now that's a woman to admire!!

Do you hear that Alina?? You must kiss their shoes otherwise you would be like that poor girl on the road! 😠

Excerpt No. 2, in which the protagonists talk about Ana Kuya's physically abusive behaviour.

Excerpt No. 3, in which the protagonists talk about Ana Kuya's physically abusive behaviour.

Excerpt No. 4, in which the protagonists talk about Ana Kuya's physically abusive behaviour.

If a child refuses to eat a food, beat it!

Aha! So she does acknowledge it, huh? But what does it matter? We forgive her in this house😍❤️

(also can we talk about how they wanted one of their friends to meet her? Like guys whyy??😭)

Thank the heavens actually.

In my opinion, children need mostly love and understanding. But they also need discipline, yes. But NOT through physical violence. NOT through constant screaming. This is wrong but it's very possible that in Ravka it's accepted and forgiven? Because I also remember reading somewhere that when Nikolai was a child and misbehaved, they were punishing his best friend physically (I haven't read the duology so please correct me if I'm wrong). So even the royal family found it normal.

But having the characters look back to it as something that was okay? And they adored her?

I'm sorry but I didn't shed one tear when she died. Botkin's death affected me more than hers ever did.

Alina when she died: "Oh my God!"

Me when she died: "Oh thank God!"

#Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Ana Kuya #Alina Starkov #S&B Before #S&B Chapter 1 #S&B Chapter 14 #S&B Chapter 21 #S&B After #S&S Chapter 2 #S&S Chapter 11 #R&R Chapter 7 #R&R Chapter 13 #R&R Chapter 15 #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo

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stromuprisahat · 1 month ago

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Idk if my ask was sent but do you mean that Aleksander has his face tailored when he met Alina ? Which is probably not, but then why wouldn’t he ? Why did he choose to leave his ‘natural’ face ?

(x,x)

I don't think he did.

If there were such option, he'd use it.

Baghra taught him a new haircut and name make a new person, and at some point he'd ~need~ to become someone new. After the Fold at the latest. Although one could argue said hair and obligatory "family resemblance" should be able to cover it, since he goes with the father-son story.

He's the man, who gave up his personhood to focus only on his goals. He'd do anything to protect them. If he'd have a choice to ensure he won't be recognized as the same man as the "deceased" one, he'd take it.

The issue is the original concept of Tailoring. It used to be unique skill with results far from permanent:

“Are there other Tailors?” I asked. “Genya is unique,” he answered, glancing at me. “Like us.”

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 7

“Don’t get too excited,” Genya said. “It’s temporary.” ... “It only lasts a few days,” she informed me.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 6

I don't think I have to delve into the impracticality of keeping another person around, so he can remain looking like "himself".

#reply #Grishaverse #The Darkling #Tailors #grishanalyticritical #S&B Chapter 7 #S&B Chapter 6 #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

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Friends (with Benefits) Dont: Part 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You guys know I couldn't leave you hanging after that last part! There will be one final part coming tomorrow but for now I need sleep and am going to head to bed. Keep an eye out for the final part tomorrow!

SUMMARY: The emotional reunion between you and Jake unfolds on the deck of the aircraft carrier, where anticipation hangs thick in the air as you wait for him to land. When he finally appears, relief washes over you, but the pain on his face is a stark reminder of the danger he faced. Embracing him feels like the world fades away, yet the weight of unspoken feelings looms between you. Later, as he recovers in the med bay, you sit by his side, both grappling with the aftermath of his confession and the silence that followed. In this tender yet complicated moment, you find comfort in each other, setting the stage for a new chapter in your relationship that promises to redefine everything you thought you knew.

4o mini

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: FLUFF.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

The salty breeze whipped through your hair as you stood on the deck of the aircraft carrier, heart pounding in your chest. The vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretched before you, but your gaze remained fixed on the horizon, straining to catch a glimpse of Jake. Every second felt like an eternity, the anticipation gnawing at you.

You barely registered Rooster’s plane as it swooped in for a landing, the familiar roar of engines drowned out by the anxious thrum of your own thoughts.

People tried to approach, offering words of comfort, but you brushed them off with a shake of your head. You couldn’t focus on anything but the hope—and fear—of seeing Jake again. Memories of his last radio transmission echoed in your mind, and you fought to suppress the wave of emotions threatening to crash over you. What if he didn’t come back? What if the next plane to touch down carried news that shattered your heart? You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the horizon to yield the figure you desperately needed to see.

Minutes stretched on, each passing moment deepening your anxiety until finally, a speck appeared in the sky. The roar of engines grew louder, and adrenaline surged through your veins. It was the search and rescue jet that had been sent after Jake had ejected.

As soon as the plane touched down, you found yourself sprinting across the deck, adrenaline fueling your every step. Your heart raced as you approached the jet, watching intently as Rooster and Coyote helped Jake down, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern.

Jake leaned heavily on them, his face pale and drawn, but your breath caught in your throat when his eyes found yours. A spark ignited in his gaze, and a smile broke across his face, lighting up the shadows that clung to him.

“Hey sweetheart, you miss me?” He called out, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, and it was so absurdly silly that a laugh escaped your lips despite the weight in your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, torn between wanting to rush to him and the instinct to hold back, afraid to hurt him with a hug. The pain etched on his face was unmistakable, and you hesitated, wanting to make sure he was truly okay.

“Are you going to come over here, or just stand there looking pretty?” he teased, raising an eyebrow as his smile grew, that glimmer of mischief still intact despite the circumstances.

Nodding in response, you finally closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. The warmth of his body against yours felt like home, a balm to your frayed nerves.

Jake let go of Rooster, using one arm to anchor himself around your back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the weight of him, the exhaustion pressing down on his shoulders, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You held him tightly, feeling the rise and fall of his breath against your skin, grounding yourself in the reality that he was here, alive, and safe. No words were needed; the intensity of your embrace said everything you both felt.

You and Jake remained locked in your embrace, time seeming to stretch indefinitely as the chaos of the aircraft carrier faded into the background. The world around you blurred, and all that mattered was the warmth of his body, the scent of him, and the relief flooding through you that he was finally here, in your arms. It felt like a dream, one you never wanted to wake from. But just as you began to lose yourself completely in the moment, a voice broke through the haze.

“Seresin, they’re waiting for you in the med bay,” Admiral Cyclone announced, his tone clipped and professional.

You instinctively began to pull away from Jake, concern flooding your mind at the thought of him needing medical attention. But his grip tightened around your waist, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go just yet.

“I know,” Jake replied, his voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ve got one thing I need to do first.”

He exchanged a knowing glance with Coyote, who nodded but warned, “Keep it short, Hangman.”

With that, Jake turned to you, his expression shifting from relief to a kind of intensity that made your heart race.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and serious, as if this moment meant more than just a casual brush of lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth spreading through you as you nodded. “Yes.”

Jake leaned in, closing the distance between you as he captured your lips with his. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle reassurance, but it quickly deepened, filled with a desperate hunger and emotion that had been building between you both. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away, and for that fleeting moment, the rest of the world faded away again, leaving just the two of you suspended in time.

* * * * *

You received the news that Jake had been cleared from the medical building, and your heart raced with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity of worry, you made your way to his room, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of fluorescent lights guiding you. You hesitated briefly at the door, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

Jake lay propped up in bed, looking better than the last time you saw him but still weary. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, a smile breaking across his face that chased away the shadows of the past few days. You slipped into the chair beside him, your heart swelling at the sight of him, finally safe.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern.

“Better now that you’re here,” he replied, his grin wide and genuine.

You smiled back but then tilted your head slightly. “No, really. How do you feel?”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Like I just got shot out of the sky.”

Your smile faltered for a second, the gravity of his words crashing into you. You rolled your eyes, not ready to let his joke lighten the moment.

“Is it too soon for that?” He looked momentarily sheepish, realizing that his attempt at humor might not land well. “Yeah, probably. Sorry about that.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the unspoken words hung between you like a thick fog. “We need to talk about... what you said,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s expression turned serious. “I know. I’m sorry for doing it the way I did. I was worried I wouldn’t make it back this time, and I needed you to know.”

“Jake… I need you to know how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” His gaze softens even more as you speak, the intensity of his focus unwavering. “I love every moment we spend together. Every single one. But when you went down…” Your voice catches, but you push through, the words trembling with the fear you’ve been carrying. “I was terrified. All I could think about was if I’d never see you again. If you never got the chance to come back to me.”

Jake’s face falls, guilt flashing across his features.

He opens his mouth again, but you’re already leaning forward, softening the moment with a teasing smile. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I swear, I’ll shoot you down myself.”

The seriousness of the moment breaks as Jake chuckles, the sound low and warm. His smile is brighter now, his eyes twinkling with a familiar spark. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, his voice light despite everything.

His smile lingers as he shifts slightly in the bed, wincing a little from the movement.

He pats the small space next to him, raising an eyebrow. “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing at the proximity it would bring. “I don’t know, Jake. Aren’t you supposed to rest?”

He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Rest? Please. I was shot at and had to eject from my jet. Are you really going to deny me holding my girl?”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, and a smile crept onto your face despite yourself. With a small laugh, you shifted closer, carefully lying down next to him. As you nestled against him, you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

“Your girl, huh?” You said, a teasing tone in your voice.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah…my girl,” he repeated, his voice warm and filled with sincerity.

His arm wraps around you as you settle into his side, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.

As you settle against Jake, the warmth of his body easing your frayed nerves, you feel your eyes growing heavier. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s finally starting to relax, the adrenaline and fear of the day slowly draining away. Jake must notice because his hand, still tracing soft circles on your arm, pauses for a moment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him, and you catch the soft concern in his eyes, though his smile remains steady. “You should get some sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head gently before you can say anything. “I’m fine, darlin’,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your arm, a gentle reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

His words are a balm to your exhausted mind. You trust him completely, but the fear that gripped you earlier still lingers in the corners of your thoughts. Now, though, it feels distant, fading into the background as the reality of having him here—safe, alive, holding you—grounds you.

You nod softly, too tired to say anything more, and let your head sink back against his chest. Jake’s steady heartbeat becomes the only sound you focus on, each rhythmic thud lulling you closer to sleep. His arm tightens around you just a bit, a silent promise that he’s not letting go, that you’re safe.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. The tenderness in his voice is enough to make your chest ache, but this time, it’s a different kind of ache—one filled with love and relief instead of fear.

The last thing you feel before sleep takes over is the warmth of Jake’s body, the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. And for the first time in what feels like days, peace finally settles over both of you. Neither of you speaks another word, but none are needed. In the quiet of the med bay, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you both drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep, safe and content in the knowledge that you’re together.

And this time, there’s no uncertainty, no fear—just the steady, comforting certainty that when you wake, Jake will still be there, just like he promised.

As you drift in and out of sleep, you hear the door creak open, and the soft shuffle of a nurse entering the room. She’s quiet at first, checking Jake’s vitals on the monitor and making a note on her chart. But when she glances over at you, curled up against Jake on the narrow bed, she hesitates.

“Lieutenant,” she says gently, not wanting to startle you. “I’m sorry, but your guest can’t stay in the bed with you. It’s against protocol.”

Jake opens one eye, his expression already shifting to one of mild annoyance. He’s clearly not thrilled about the idea of you leaving his side, and the nurse can sense it. She’s just doing her job, but she doesn’t realize she’s dealing with Jake Seresin.

“I’m fine,” Jake replies, his voice a little gruff from the exhaustion but steady. “She’s not hurting anything by being here.”

The nurse tries again, a bit more firmly this time. “It’s for your safety. We can bring a chair over—”

“I don’t want her in a chair,” Jake cuts her off, his tone growing more insistent. He shifts slightly in the bed, adjusting his arm so it’s holding you a little tighter, making it clear he doesn’t intend to let you go anytime soon. “She’s staying here. With me.”

There’s a brief, tense silence. The nurse looks a bit exasperated but still professional, knowing she has to follow the rules. “Sir, I understand, but—”

Jake sighs, now fully awake, and fixes the nurse with a stare that could stop anyone in their tracks.

“Listen,” he says, using that smooth, authoritative tone that makes it hard for anyone to argue with him. “I’ve just been shot out of the sky, survived an ejection, and had to think about the possibility I’d never see her again. I’m not about to let some rule keep her from staying in this bed with me. So unless you’ve got some life-or-death reason, she’s staying.”

The nurse opens her mouth to respond but then seems to realize there’s no winning this one. She sighs, clearly recognizing the futility in arguing with Jake Seresin when he’s determined about something.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she finally concedes, though it’s clear this isn’t the last of it.

As soon as she leaves, Jake smirks to himself, looking down at you.

“Told you I’ve got your back,” he murmurs, his tone playful, as if the whole exchange was just a minor inconvenience.

But the real showdown comes later in the evening. You’ve been peacefully resting beside him when another nurse—or maybe it’s the same one from before—comes in to remind you that visiting hours are over.

“Ma’am,” she says kindly, but firmly. “It’s past 9 p.m., and you’ll need to leave for the night.”

Jake’s eyes snap open, and he’s immediately back on high alert.

“No, she won’t,” he interjects before you can even respond. He shifts in the bed, the pain in his body seemingly forgotten as he props himself up on one elbow. “She’s staying. I’m not spending the night in here without her.”

The nurse lets out a tired sigh, clearly not up for another round with Jake. “Sir, it's hospital policy. You need to rest for your recovery—”

“Hospital policy,” Jake echoes with a smirk, cutting her off again. “Let me tell you something about that. You know what’s really good for my recovery? Her being here. So if you want me to heal up quick and get out of your hair, you’re gonna let her stay.”

“Sir—”

“I’m not asking,” Jake says flatly, and his tone leaves no room for negotiation. He folds his arms across his chest, wincing slightly as the movement aggravates his injuries, but he doesn’t let it show. “I’m telling you. She’s staying.”

The nurse gives you an apologetic glance, as if seeking backup, but you know there’s no reasoning with him at this point. You’re about to offer to leave to keep the peace, but Jake shoots you a look that says he won’t hear of it.

After another futile attempt to argue, the nurse finally throws up her hands in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters under her breath, “but if anyone asks, I didn’t see anything.”

As she leaves, Jake grins triumphantly, settling back down with a satisfied sigh. “That’s more like it,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

You shake your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Jake chuckles, wincing slightly from the pain but still smiling. “Only when it comes to you, darlin’. I’m not spending another minute without you if I can help it.”

But of course, the night staff makes another attempt to enforce the rules about an hour later. This time, Jake’s too tired to put up much of a fight, but he still manages to give them one last stubborn retort before they give up for good.

“If you want me out of this bed so bad,” he says with a smirk, “maybe just let her stay and I’ll be out of your hair even faster.”

Eventually, the staff realizes there’s no winning this battle. You stay curled up next to him, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek as the exhaustion from the day finally catches up to both of you. Jake’s arm wraps protectively around you, pulling you closer.

“See?” he whispers, his voice soft in the dim light of the room. “Told you that you weren’t going anywhere.”

You smile against his chest, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. “You really are impossible,” you murmur sleepily.

Jake chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “But you love me for it.”

"Yeah, yeah I do." You mumble as you close your eyes again.

And with that, you both finally drift off to sleep, content in each other’s arms. Nothing else matters but the fact that you’re together, and Jake’s stubborn determination ensures that’s exactly how it’s going to stay.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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deus-ex-mona · 2 months ago

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renren chapter let’s goooooooooooooo

#maaaaaaaaaan i n e e d to scream about ch5 but i dont wanna spoil too much of it aaaaaaaaaa #s o im gonna. toss some of my thoughts here in the tags. while trying not to spoil it too much… ig…#(in my defense ive been waiting for this for a g e s and i need to get my thoughts out somewhere aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)#(first few tags prior to spoiler blocker amended post-‘live review’ but the essence is still the same)#[spoilers from here on pls stand by—]#hE L P WDYM RENREN JUST UPPED AND LEFT #WAIT THE 3 STOOGES FROM CH 4 ARE BACK AND???? WHY ARE THEY WATCHING YUMEFAN #LMAO WHAT THEY ACTUALLY CAME TO AN UNDERSTANDING WITH HER AIZO OSHIKATSU???????#RIP YUNA YOUR (CON)CON DIDNT WORK ON THEM #OMG TSUMURIN CLUMSY AND CUTE #w. wait what. i didnt expect that. ominous single panel flashback at the end.#um. no wonder why there’s a flashback arc somewhere within ch6 at least…?#now im scared for ch6 and 7. lmao. man.#wait. if ch 7 turns out to be a full-fledged flashback chapter… i think i can see the volume ending with the chizu-hiyo hallway fight #b u t that’ll have to wait for ch 7 to drop first!!!!! at the rate it’s going i think ch 7’s preview will drop in 2 weeks… maybe…#aaaaaaaaaaa m a n. ch 5 sure was. a lot. in a sense.#i think renren will be back though. eventually.#but maaaaaaaaaan. i expected renren hilarity not this intense end sequence #chizuutan manga… you never fail to subvert expectations…#(kawaikutegomen anime w h e n—)#chizuutan chizpost

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numinousher · 2 months ago

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CHANTAJE! (xxv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ahhhhh next chapter will need to be listened to with wildflower by billie eilish pls

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“That star is orange.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Jin, I get you’re old and you can’t see, but that star is for sure orange or some type of color,” you said, pointing directly at the star you were pointing at so Jin could see.

You two were night seeing stars for some reason. You two had wanted to go out to eat, but he had messed up the time and reservation, so he just ordered food to your place and you two put some blankets on the grass.

“You’re fucking with me that’s it,” Jim scoffed out, squinting his eyes to see the star you were pointing at better. “Girl, I cannot see shit.”

“You have such a potty mouth for one that is the oldest,” you said with amusement, looking down at his figure lying down on the grass. “Also, remind me to get you some binoculars or some shit because how can you not see it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jin groaned, softly pushing you away. “I see it now. Happy?”

“Well, now I feel like you said that out of pity,” you said with a noise while simultaneously crossing your arms dramatically. “We suck at this. We can go inside to look at some movie.”

“Can we see one of yours?” He suggested, standing up and sticking his hand out to help you get on your feet. You scrunched your nose as you two got the food to take it inside. “Come on, I haven’t seen one.”

“Fine,” you dragged out. You two walked back inside your room, heading immediately towards the living room so you could put one of your movies. “Sad, rom-com, action, or psychological horror?”

“Sad, I feel like crying today,” he replied. He sat down on the side closer to the door and waited until you put on one of your sad movies. It was everyone’s favorite genre so of course you had more than one. Just like how so many actors were given a title, yours was “she’s mostly known for being in sad movies.” You didn’t know whether you should take it as a compliment, but you did. It was nice being known as that since you did a good job causing tears.

You and Jin sat on the couch for 2 hours, watching your film, “Color Blue.” He went watching it without knowing the plot (you didn’t want to tell him) and now he was suffering the consequences. You were sobbing, he was sobbing, tissues were spread everything (just the table), and he was left hurt at the ending.

“That was it?” He sniffed. “What the hell? He just leaves? He just disappears like that?”

You sniff. “It’s insinuated she met the love of her life shortly after he left. He was her first love but, it was never supposed to be a forever thing due to this circumstances.”

“I hate your fucking movie, what the fuck?” Jin continued to sniff before a sob escaped his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to see more.”

“Can you drive?” You sniffle, placing the tissue on your nose. “Should I call one of the boys?”

“Yeah, call one of those idiots,” Jin said considering the fact you two have been together since 8 AM.

You two didn’t do a lot. He and the others find so much comfort in your home they love lying around on your couch or on your bed. You don’t know why but he and the others have said your house smells like pumpkin and cinnamon, which would be a nice scent for fall.

You took it as a compliment.

You couldn’t help but swoon over Jin’s looks and the way he truly was an awkward person like you have been told. He does have some confidence, but he mostly uses that when he needs to. He used that when you two went to the store to buy some things you two needed for dinner.

You two had to leave, though, when it got a bit swarmed with fans.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniff before you and Jin simultaneously sobbed at the credit scene. You had forgotten a montage of your character and his favorite character was shown.

“Are you two okay?” Yoongi asked, standing up from his chair to look at his wristwatch. He looked at Jimin, gesturing for him while he grabbed his keys. “Hey, why are you two crying?”

They could just hear you both sobbing.

“He didn’t deserve that!” Jin exclaimed.

“It needed to end like that so she could meet him!”

As you two cried, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung (they didn’t know where he came from) headed to the car parked in front of their house.

“Hurry up,” Jimin hissed. He had forgotten how slow of a driver Yoongi was.

After 10 minutes, they arrived to your house. Yoongi did break a couple of laws here and there but, they did get to your house unharmed.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten out of the car when Taehyung did, which Jimin immediately stopped him for.

“What?” Taehyung scoffed as soon as Jimin stood in front of him, hands placed on his chest to prevent him from walking any further. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimin replied with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll come get you once I make sure they’re fine.” Taehyung opened his mouth to argue but Jimin shushed him with a glare. “You will go crazy if you find out they’re hurt. Stay here. I am not fucking kidding.”

Once he made sure he wasn’t following, Jimin hurried into your house with such speed he was surprised he didn’t trip over your front stairs.

“They’re fine!” Yoongi exclaimed. Jimin appeared next to him, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. “They’re crying over a movie.”

“I-” Jimin gaped. He eyed the two figures on the couch hugging each other, holding on for dear life, almost as if they were to detach one would disappear. “What movie did you guys watch?”

“Color Blue,” you and Jin sobbed out, hugging each other tighter.

“Isn’t that your movie, Y/n?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He glanced at your face on the screen, smiling at another character. “Why are you crying? Don’t you know the plot?”

“It still hurts, okay?” You cried out, throwing him a plushie. He easily caught it with one hand. “I’m such a good actress.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jin agreed, nodding his head rapidly.

Jimin sighed. “Okay, okay, come on.” He separated you two, letting Yoongi comfort you while he comforted Jin. “You big babies. Why are you watching a sad movie?”

“Jin said so,” you answered, grabbing another tissue and dabbing your nose.

“Of course he did. Jin loves sad movies.”

“I love the feeling it gives me.”

Jimin shook his head at his words. “See?” He placed a hand on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp while the other scratched Jin’s. “It’s okay, honey. Your movies are great. It’s just fictional.”

“It didn’t feel fictional,” Jin said, calming down. His eyes did tear up, though. “Oh, my God. They deserved their happy ending.”

“Jin, they did get their happy ending,” you sniffed. He looked at you and you gesture at the movie. “The guy at the end, his voice matches the other guys. Why do you think?”

He stayed silent before he gasped. “No way!”

“Yes!”

“What is the movie about?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi while you and Jin babbled.

“He ends up disappearing at the end,” Yoongi quickly answered in hopes you two wouldn’t listen. Just in case you two burst out crying again. “No one knows why he disappeared but, the next scene takes place months later after that. The movie ends with the audience hearing a voice that sounds just like his.”

Jimin frowned. That sounds sad.

He sighed.

“Okay, guys, come on,” he said, ushering Jin to stand up. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow so you mister,” he patted Jin’s shoulders, “need to sleep early.”

He nodded.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi asked, watching Jimin grabbing onto Jin as best as he could. His head swerved side to side. “I thought he was behind us.”

“I told him to stay in the car or else he was going to go—”

“Are they okay?” Taehyung exclaimed, coming inside the home. Jimin gulped at the intensity of his voice and let Yoongi reply that yes, you and Jin were crying and were fine. A movie of yours just made you two cry.

“Stop him before he heads to her,” Jimin rushed out, the two of them—Jin, too—heading towards Taehyung’s way to stop him from seeing you.

Yes, he loved Jin, he loved him so much. But he has never seen you cry, unlike Jin. So, he was definitely going to head to you with his heart hammering against his chest, his hands balled up into fists, his lips slightly parted, and his need for you stronger than ever.

“Taehyung, she’s fine.”

Jimin blocked Taehyung’s path, but that didn’t stop the man. He softly pushed Jimin away, eyes set on you.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored the calls for his name and took long strides to reach you, hand traveling down to grip your wrist, and his other helping you stand up.

In a blink of an eye, his hand slithered around to wrap it around your waist, letting his palm rest on the small of your back. He brought you closer, his other hand traveling up your arm, to your shoulder, until it reached the back of your head. His lips were brushing against yours, breaths tingling and intertwining with the others, and you swore your lips were pulling to his like they were magnets.

His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Give me permission to kiss you and I’ll do it,” he breathed out, holding you like he was inhaling you. “If that’s what will make you better.”

“You’re not asking,” you mumbled in a breath, your nose being hit by the faint smell of his cologne.

“Fuck, I just need to kiss you so badly, please,” he pleaded, fingers slightly gripping your hip until white dents were left behind in their wake. “Please.”

You nodded rapidly against his hold.

He breathed in and kissed you with such intensity and desire, almost as if he had been holding back for years from kissing you. Soft, muffled moans escaped his mouth into yours, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter to bring you even closer.

“He’s devouring her,” Jimin whispered to the others while they watched you two make out almost in need. “I told you bringing him here was a bad—Taehyung, put her down.”

They watched Taehyung pick you up from the ground, hand situated on your ass while the other gripped your thigh. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips still on his despite the change of position.

Kissing Taehyung felt like drinking water after being dehydrated for days, you noted.

His lips felt soft and the way he held you, touched you, and talked to you was enough for you to feel everything all at once. Every single guy made you feel more than you bargained for and you don’t know how to act. None of them knew how to act, either.

“No,” Taehyung dismissed Jimin, placing you on the wall with his hands still in his desired places. God, kissing you was a blessing itself, but having you in his hands all to himself was enough to keep him so happy and relieved. Kissing you was something. “She’s mine.”

“Okay, possessive bitch, leave her alone,” Jimin scoffed out, crossing his arms. Though, he couldn’t help but admit he loved watching you two fully make out in your home. Your safe place. “Make some space for me.”

Jin and Yoongi watched you and Taehyung go from kissing each other to now taking turns kissing the other person added. Your legs had unwrapped themselves from Taehyung’s waist, your feet now placed on the floor, and you were in between both men, caged in their arms, your lips smacking against Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s back and forth.

“This is a bad idea,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “They’re eating her alive.”

“At least they won’t come to you every second of the day to ask for that,” Jin said with a chuckle, finding the scenery amusing. He glanced down at his watch. “It is getting late. Oh, God. That movie has some type of magic, my chest hurt for a sec, I swear.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I know. I watched the movie by myself when I was sick and I couldn’t finish it. It was too painful.”

They continued to watch you three make out, their eyes following your guys’ hands touching and yearning for each other.

They weren’t going to lie but, they felt something in the pit of their stomachs just looking at you three.

Jimin and Taehyung’s hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer. Their breaths intertwined with your own, their moans, too. They kissed you as if you were going to leave, as if you would disappear if they stopped. What did you do to ever deserve this? And what did they ever do to be blessed with you? Not enough. They’ll do more for you. If you want the moon, they’ll find a way to buy it and name it after you. If you want the stars, they’ll buy every sparkly little piece of shit and name it after you. Your name deserves to grace beautiful things because you are the most beautiful of them all. Everyone deserves to utter your name when they look at the things the universe has graced them with.

“I need to breathe,” you softly breathe out, your hands on the back of their heads. You softly gasped as Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck and Jimin claimed your lips again, both equally as bruising.

Jimin chuckled at the noise and looked at Taehyung. “Taehyung, let her breathe.”

Taehyung shook his head, teeth grazing the skin of your neck to suck on it. His lips kissed each mark he left behind before looking at you with the same hooded eyes he looked at you with.

“Do you want to breathe, angel?” He muttered, holding your face closer to his while the pad of his thumb ran itself over your bottom glossy lip. “Hmm?”

“Just for a sec.”

He smiled before he rubbed his lips against yours. “One.” As you went to ask him what he meant by that number, he kissed you. Jimin snorted and backed away, shaking his head.

“He’s much more tamer compared to when he got together with us,” he noted, very amused. “Should we warn her about that?”

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re going to scare her off before she could kiss us.” He gave you two one more look before he turned around. “Let the poor girl breathe, Taehyung. Pretty sure she’s about to faint.”

“I think I’m about to faint because of how it feels,” Taehyung muttered out loud, taking you back to the wall so he could feel you up better that way.

“He’s acting like a starved man,” Jin whispered rather dramatically, looking at you with worry. “I feel like we would lock him away for her safety, God.”

“Taehyung!” Jin snapped.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back a bit, looking at them over his shoulder. He hummed, staring back at you and kissing your lips softly.

“Come on, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin snorted out, loving the way you were much more comfortable.

“Why?” Taehyung muttered, tracing your lips. He couldn’t like away from them and your eyes. Your pretty eyes, such pretty eyes. He softly groaned. “God, don’t look at me like that please.”

“Taehyung.”

“You drive me so fucking crazy I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered as if it was a secret.

“Taehyung.”

“The way you taste and smell,” he continued to speak in a hush voice, lips trailing from your jawbone to your neck, “I could devour you whole.” He raised his head to look at you from under his lashes, his hand bringing up one of yours to kiss. “Will you let me?”

You smile and could see over his shoulder that the boys were looking at you three with happy eyes.

“Taehyung, if I say yes,” you started, “will you go home and go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I have you,” he said, not looking away from your lips.

“Okay, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed with a smile. He dragged Taehyung away from you, ignoring his attempts to convince him to let him go so he can stay here in your home. Yoongi grabbed him away. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

Jimin kissed you on the lips, backing away to taste your chapstick. “Wear that flavor. It tastes good.”

You snorted and led them out, watching Yoongi and Jin place a desperate Taehyung on the backseat. You stood on your driveway and waved. Jin came back to give you a kiss on the forehead and Yoongi, much to everyone’s surprise, gave you a quick peck. His left you gasping in surprise. You couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Bye, angel.”

“Bye…”

Everyone was busy the next day Taehyung swore he would die if he didn’t see in that exact moment.

He was tugging on his hair until Hoseok had to intervene, slapping his hands away.

He was dozing off, thinking about you and the pillow talk you would have after spending the night together.

He was loving the way his brain would visualize how life would be with you in their relationship, complete. He can die happily knowing that he has all the loves of his life with him.

Jin couldn’t stop thinking about you, on the other hand. None of them could stop. You were so embedded in their brains, they swore they could hear your voice until they snapped their heads and you weren’t there.

What have you done to them?

What type of spell have you put on them?

They didn’t know what but, they loved thinking of you, and they couldn’t complain. No. They couldn’t and they wouldn’t.

It was 6 PM.

You have been “together” for 2 to 3-ish months today.

You maintained lowkey and on the low, and managed to convince everyone that you two were in a relationship. You had doubters here and there but nothing serious.

As for your allegations, there hasn’t been an improvement. It’s hard knowing who did it and not being able to point fingers because you do not have evidence or anything valuable of some sorts.

6:30 PM.

You were in a meeting with Jae and Jake, talking about the new movie you were with Hyung-min that you two have been going over with together. He was there, too, but he was a bit farther away from you. He didn’t want to even hug you just in case he accidentally hurt you.

At 6:32 PM, your phone went off.

At 6:33 PM, your phone went off again.

And again.

At 6:36, Jae’s went off next.

Then Jake’s.

Jae looked at her phone once she noticed you simply shut yours off and just as she was going to shut it off, too, she eyed her notifications.

Her eyes widened and she stood up.

“Oh, no.”

You frown and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/n… do not go on your phone,” she strictly told you, still looking at her phone. She was typing away and Jake, having looked down at his phone, too, felt his shoulders tense. “Call her PR team. Call the president of the company and alert a meeting ASAP.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” You frown, standing up alongside Hyung-min who had glanced at his phone, too, to see what had his girlfriend panicked. “Jae?”

“Babe, it came out,” Jae stressed, fixing her glasses slipping from the bridge of her nose.

“What did?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your hands becoming clammy at the thought of something of yours coming out. “Jae?”

“That stupid thing Namjoon was threatening you with,” she snapped. She calmed herself down. She didn’t even feel this stressed over your bullying allegations. “Remember he said he had something about your sister?” You nodded. “Honey, it got leaked. It’s everywhere.”

“What?” You froze. Your brain froze. Your thoughts were not circulating no more, and you felt numb. “What? Give me the phone.”

You snatched her phone away from her hands and read the article she was reading.

Your chest heaved up and down at coming to see she was telling the truth.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.”

“I know…”

“I hid that for a reason!” You exclaimed, starting to pace. Hyung-min stood next to you, comforting you. You breathed in and out harshly. “Oh, my God…”

Your secret was out.

< before - after >

92 notes · View notes

purpleyoonn · 2 years ago

Text

baby (you complete us) 8

C H A P T E R E I G H T

Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

Chapter Warnings: lots of insecurities, mc practically snaps, lots of tension, angry/protective yoongi, possessive bangtan, mc believes they're unworthy, discussion of disabilities,

*Words in Italics are spoken/written in Korean*

masterlist // chapter 7 // chapter 9

taglist: @imnotlauriane @mageprincess7 @m1sss1mp @0funsite0 @strawberry-moonpies @this-isthe-way @singukieee @btsw1fe @gooooomz @fluffy-canada-pancakes @carolinexkpop @agusfree @sakurarukas @iamkookiesforyou @skyys-universe @toughbook @plutoneu @whisperssuga @welcometomyworld13 @yuzon3 @wittyreader @jnghs @cyd0129 @exfolitae @queen-in-the-shadows @nen-nyy @pandxthings @schniti-is-in-the-house @juju-227592 @jinseartharmysmoon @wooya1224 @ddaeng-angmoh @gratefullygrateful @rorythme @veronawrites @xiusmarshmallow @xicanacorpse @kalala22 @ok-boke @namjoonswaifu @sweetcheeksdna @hyunjingin @promiseokza @mushroom-main @bookluver01 @butterfliesinthenightsky

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @yourleftsock @skyys-universe @cryingpages @strxwbloody @drissteele @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @crushedblackroses @fluffy-canada-pancakes @blaaiissee @iiitsmaria @carolinexkpop @azazel-nyx @strawberry-moonpies @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @knjkitten @foreverweareyoung7 @lachimolala22019 @namuficxs @94z-93 @kimgmzmc @thenaverse @dahliasbouqet @black-rose-29 @tinyoonsblog @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @stellauniverse @stupendouscookiehumanmug @tinyoonsblog @veronawrites @tatyhend @singukieee @m0v3m3ntsblog @exfolitae @butterymin @queen-in-the-shadows

———————————————

Previously on baby (you complete us):

“Alright then. Are you ready to go and meet your soulmates?” Songun claps his hands together before gesturing you towards the waiting car parked on the street. You stare at it warily, but you nod your head anyways, pushing and grasping for the feelings the boys have already made you feel, hoping they chase away any of the doubt floating through your head.

“Yes.”

You were right when you thought that the HYBE building might be bigger on the inside. It was like going inside Newt Scamander’s suitcase, a complete never-ending maze of rooms and corridors. You knew for sure that if you didn’t have someone to follow, you would become trapped within as a consequence of getting lost.

It had taken only five minutes for Songun to bring you to the building, using his security badge to gain entrance to the staff/artist underground parking structure. However, he had you use your badge, the one the boys sent over to your home, to gain access to the building. He wanted to be sure it worked, that way you would have no trouble with any of the other doors inside.

The second you got inside, you could feel your hands becoming clammy, knees starting to feel weak as Songun helped guide you to the front desk, wanting the woman at the desk to become familiar with you and know who you were.

“Hello, how can I help you.” The woman, her name tag reading Arin, smiled up at you, putting you a little at ease. However, you were still nervous to you quite literally handed her your pass. You couldn’t form any words and hoped your badge would suffice.

“Oh, um.” Arin shuffled out, looking at you with a nervous smile before looking down at the badge and seeing the words printed across the front. Then her smile turned into a different kind of nervous, knowing if she made one wrong move she could be fired.

“Ah, I see. Welcome Mrs. Kim. I hope that you find everything to your liking.” You blinked at being called Mrs. Kim again, wondering what that is about when your name is clearly printed on the badge.

You were also curious to why she seemed so nervous around you now. You weren’t famous or rich or anything of the nearest sort. She acted like you were about to take her job from her and blacklist her. Like you had power over her. You didn’t know if you liked it or not. It made you a little uncomfortable to be honest.

“Can you alert the boys that we are here please. I will lead her up right now.” Songun leaned over the desk, whispering in her ear for a couple of seconds before he pulls away. Arin nods and reaches for her phone. Before you could say anything, Songun hands you your badge back and leads you to the elevators.

“The badge works a bit like the hotel, you just place the badge over the security strip.” You nod your head at his words, storing the information in your head. You hold your badge up to the strip on the wall and the elevator opens within a second, making your eyes widen.

“Now, with your badge, you have full access to any of the rooms your soulmates do, including any practice rooms or studios.” Songun begins to describe the uses of your badge as he presses the floor to the 15th floor.

Ever since the HYBE Insight exhibit closed while the boys were serving their military enlistments, the public has been unable to access any of the floors of the HYBE building. You remember seeing some pictures from other fans of the Insight exhibit and thought it looked amazing.

You were even more amazed when the elevator doors opened to the 15th floor, a large portrait of the boys on the opposite wall. It was a picture of the first group photo the boys posted to Twitter when they all came back from serving their military enlistment. You remember how sad army was when the boys enlisted at the same time, but the soulmate laws required it so soul pain wasn’t experienced from distance or separation.

Your hands were now extremely clammy, a little shake to them as you tried to clench your fingers into a fist. You were beyond nervous, even a little scared to see them now that you were only a mere couple of feet from them. You stopped in your step, shoulders hunched as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?” Songun had stopped when he realized you weren’t next to him any longer. He turned to see you a couple of feet behind him. He moved back over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can do this. What if they’ve changed their mind? What if they don’t want to see me anymore?” You began to ramble, your insecurities coming into play as they spun the thoughts moving in your head.

“Miss Y/n, I can’t tell you things are going to be easy or simple when you walk through those doors. But I can say that those boys, since finding out about you, have done nothing but worry that you won’t give them a chance. They are just as nervous and scared about this meeting as you are. I can’t tell you what to do, but I can say that you all need this. To see each other and get all of your feelings out on the floor.” Songun leaned down in front of you, so you could see his face as you looked at the floor. You listened to his words, the way he talked to you so gently that he reminded you of your own father.

“If you don’t want to do this, I can give them some excuse and take you back to your hotel room.” Songun ended with a shrug, making you laugh a little. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, feel at ease and you couldn’t thank him more for it. But he was right. You needed to see them, needed to end the ten plus years of mental torment you’ve endured. You needed to talk to them and move forward.

“Okay. I’m ready.” You nodded your head, in a way reassuring yourself that you were actually ready for this. If Songun could tell that you were talking to yourself more than to him, he never reacted. He just nodded at your words and held your shoulder the rest of the walk, giving you the reassurance you needed to walk through the door.

Songun knocked on the door, not even a second later moving out of the way as the door opened to Sejin, who you know as one of the main managers for the boys. He smiled as he noticed you, making a welcome gesture as he opened the door wider for you to enter.

“The boys are waiting for you inside, Y/n.” His smile while he meant to be nice and welcoming, did little to help you feel comfortable. You turned your head to look back at Songun, only to see him nodding his head at you again, telling you that everything would be okay.

You turned back around, clenching your fists again before nodding and walking into the room. You tried to steel yourself, to tell yourself that you were okay. You clenched your fists so hard you could feel one of your fingers pop and shift. You opened your fist and began to try and pop your finger back in when you noticed the boys, all moving to stand from where they were seated on the couches.

You paused in your step, seeing your soulmates up close and personal was different than seeing them on your screen or texting them on your phone. Seeing them a couple of feet in front of you made this all too real. You could vaguely hear Jungkook say “she’s finally here.”

It was awkward for a couple of long seconds, you just staring at them as they did the same to you, as if taking you in. You were just making sure they were real, that this was really happening.

“Uhm, hi.” You waved your hand a little awkwardly, your mind screaming at you to break the tension in the room. You took a step backward, unsure if you should leave or not, which seems to knock everyone out of their trance.

“Hello. Please, come sit.” Namjoon being the ever diplomatic and caring leader is the first to speak, his smile bright and dimpled just like you had seen many times on camera. You always loved his smile; how warm it was and how it seemed to calm everyone down.

Namjoon had his hand out, whether it was a gesture for you to sit, or a hopeful attempt to bring you closer, you would never know. You nodded your head at his words and moved to the couch opposite of where they were sitting.

Your body was tense, uncomfortable in a new room and a new situation. You felt unprepared, like the time you were in the principal’s office and you were waiting under your principal’s watchful eye as you waited for your parents to arrive. You remember you were going to be suspended for hitting someone who had tried to make fun of your elder sister. She was in a car accident when you were ten and had lost half of her leg, making her wear a prosthetic leg that went up to her knee.

You had your hands clenched together, resting on top of your thighs as your back was rim rod straight. It wasn’t comfortable, but you were too nervous to care. However, you did lean slightly to the right, your hip still giving you some discomfort.

“We are sorry again that you’ve had to uproot your life to come here, but we are grateful for the chance you are giving us.” Namjoon starts the conversation off, right as Sejin leaves the room. Your eyes darted to the door and back, now even more nervous and intimidated by what’s going on.

“We know that the circumstances are not ideal,” You sigh at that, making Namjoon pause in his obviously prepared speech. “but we regret the time not knowing you.”

You cut him off this time, not needing some rehearsed words intended to calm you down. You tried to understand, tried to tell yourself that he was just nervous and needed his script to feel reassured but you couldn’t help but feel the disconnection, like you were just a simple worker and not his soulmate.

“Please, Namjoon. I would really appreciate it if you could actually talk to me instead of giving me your obviously prepared speech. I’m not some employee or businessman that you need to be prepared for.” You take a deep breathe, feeling that you were getting worked up again.

Jin and Jimin glance at each other while Yoongi smirks, hiding behind his ever-growing locks. He hates having to cut his hair short for his military service, and he hated having to be semi-separated from his soulmates, doing service work instead of enlistment. However, he liked how brave you were being in front of his younger mate, that you weren’t afraid to put him in his place despite the obvious power struggle in the room.

“I am not fragile despite my disability. I can handle having uncomfortable conversations. I was fully prepared to give up on my soulmark. I thought that maybe, my bracelet had to be defective. I mean, why in the world would fate give someone like me seven soulmates?” You scoffed at your own words, the idea that fate had that you still questioned, even now.

“Yes, I waited ten years for you, hoping and praying to fate that you would get your bracelets and see my messages. See that I wanted you. And I can’t blame you. I can’t blame you for not getting one. I can’t blame you for not knowing you were missing a soulmate.” You had noticed that some of the men were crying at this point, feeling the emotions that you put into your words. Jimin and Jungkook especially were sniffling, eyes red as tears marked their cheeks.

“At one point, I even thought that you had all already found each other and didn’t need me. And it seems I was right. You have been together for so long; I would only be getting in the way. I would be a burden you felt you needed to keep around in order to keep me from dying of soul rejection.” You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but your mouth was moving quicker than your brain and your feelings long buried were getting in the way.

“Don’t say that!” Jungkook yelled out, startling everyone in the room and making you jump in shock. You weren’t expecting his outburst, almost forgetting that you weren’t just talking to yourself.

“You are not a burden. You will never be a burden. We spent so long trying to find you, trying anything we could to find a post or picture anywhere that would lead us to you when you took your bracelet off.” Jungkook was now standing, moving to kneel in front of you.

“We read every single message, cried so many times in guilt that we weren’t there for you, for anything. We did everything we could think of to find you, even going as far as having our managers make that twitter post.” Jungkook was holding his fist to his lip, biting into his index finger. Namjoon took over from there.

“I apologize, you are right. I shouldn’t be talking from my mind, but my heart.” He even stood up, moving to sit next to you, but not before asking permission, gesturing to the spot next to you and only sitting down once you nodded your head.

“Jungkook is right. Once we were notified of your presence with the soul bracelet, we were shocked. How could we have not noticed the small empty feeling within our bond? How could we have gone so many years together, happy, and not notice you were across the world, suffering and alone and believing that we didn’t want you. We were so mad at ourselves.” Namjoon slowly reached a hand out, covering your clenched fists with his palm and squeezing gently, hoping to reassure you.

“We,” Namjoon gestured to the others, “want you as our soulmate like fate intended. There is a reason why we have connected soul marks, why our souls are linked.” His eyes are locked on your own, even as you turn your head to look at his hand on your lap. He can only imagine the words circling through your mind, the emotions flowing through your veins.

The boys had prepared for this. They all knew the trauma their lack of bracelet had caused you. They knew you would be hesitant to jump into their arms and accept them. He could tell from where he was sitting that their plan was slowly crumbling though now that you were in their presence.

The plan was to let Namjoon do all the talking, knowing you didn’t speak any Korean. But you saw right through them, causing his own mind to scramble with how to talk to you without using the prepared speech he wrote with the boys. He was so used to having everything prepared, having a backup plan for a backup plan all ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“We accepted you the moment we knew you existed. You are ours.” Yoongi spoke up from his spot next to Jin and Taehyung, eyes narrowed as if daring you to contradict his statement.

He was fully ready for you to just be theirs. Yoongi and Taehyung had spent so much time on your socials, watching the tiktoks you and your family had posted on your account. Even right before you came in, Yoongi was on your Instagram, trying to memorize the smile on your face, hoping he could bring you the same joy and happiness.

Yoongi’s statement sent shivers down your spine, the amount of possessiveness you could feel rolling off his tongue had your brain short-circuiting. You hadn’t felt something like this before. It was like an amplification of the feelings you had when you talked to them at the airport or even on the plan after your hip popped out.

You felt accepted and wanted.

Looking at Yoongi, your eyes sweeping over to Jimin and the hope he had written all over his face. Jin with the slight pout to his lips as he looks at your clenched fists, the slight bruising at the bottom of your thumb peeking out through Namjoon’s grip. Taehyung and Hoseok who had their hands clenched together and was watching your every movement, a slight twinkle to Taehyung’s eye as he glanced between you and Jungkook.

You would always feel like you were a burden, like you didn’t belong, but maybe those feelings could disappear over time. Maybe, fate was right when she connected your soul with these men. Maybe you should have never lost your own faith in fate. But ten years is a long time to feel unwanted.

“I-uh, I can’t promise anything, I have a lot to work through, but I…” You cut yourself off, trying to figure out the words you needed to say. Your mothers voice rings through your head, reminding you that fate always has a plan for you. That things happen for a reason.

“I want this. I—I’ve always wanted this…to have my soulmates and bond with them. Even after all this time I still hoped that I would find you.” You try to fight through the emotions you were experiencing, years of fear and hope battling in your throat. Jungkook can see you nervously tapping your fingers against your thigh and without thought moved forward to hold your hand in his, sending you a soft, reassuring smile.

“I guess I am just afraid.” You let out a nervous laugh, squeezing Jungkook’s hand in your own grasp. You look away from them, eyes focusing on the wall as you fight to blink away the onslaught of tears.

“Why?” The voice rings out, your mind recognizing it as Taehyung before you turn your head back, looking him right in the eyes.

“Because you have been together for so long. I can only imagine I would be interrupting the flow of your bond and relationship. I would be a burden you tiptoe around, trying not to make me uncomfortable as you return back into the comfortability and stability of your already existing bond. I’m afraid I won’t fit in with you, that my disability will hold you and me back. I cannot and will not put my needs to the side. I’ve had people before who were supposed to love me push me aside because I didn’t fit the mold they had for me in their head.” Your eyes narrowed, your heart beating so fast you could feel it in your throat.

“If you accept me, you accept all of me. I won’t be the hidden soulmate who isn’t allowed to leave the house because she isn’t normal or perfect.” At this point, you are letting it all out, all of your frustrations and fears. If these men were going to accept you and build a life with you in it, you weren’t going to hold anything back. You needed them to know what they were getting into.

You watched their eyes widen at your words, like they couldn’t believe what you were saying. You then watched their expressions turn to anger. Yoongi turned to Jin in anger and began speaking in Korean, too quickly for you to make out any familiar sounds or words. At one point you flinched, seeing Yoongi begin to stand up.

“He is not angry with you or at you. He is upset that you feel that way and have experienced such things without him being there to help you.” Namjoon’s whispered words have you turning back to Yoongi, reassessing the thoughts running through your head.

Namjoon knew you thought Yoongi was upset with your words, mad at you for your assumption of them, but you were wrong. Yoongi wanted to hurt the people who hurt you, his protective instincts strong when it came to his bonded. Well, Yoongi actually had some few choice words, but none that he felt comfortable repeating.

He could tell that his words had done something, made you feel some way because you looked back at him with wide eyes, reminding him of Jungkook when he was younger, unsure of the world ahead of him. His heart clenched with the way you looked to him for reassurance, and he knew from then that he would never let you go, would never be absent or unable to be there for you. He would do what he could within his power to protect you.

“He…he wants to protect me?” You asked Namjoon, hands tightly clenched with Jungkook’s as you looked away from Yoongi and up to Namjoon. You couldn’t help but to feel small, hoping that what Namjoon was saying was true. You had too many emotions crashing against your skull and you needed his reassurance.

Yes, you had your family at your side, and some amazing friends who you loved and who loved you, but you had always felt like a burden, no matter what you did. This led to many feelings of unworthiness and feeling incompetent. It didn’t help the words you would hear, murmured or whispered in passing, even by some family members at birthday parties. You saw the looks you would get.

You had never felt protected before, the feeling unknown.

It was something you always wished for. The security of being protected by someone who loved you was a powerful thing.

“We all do.” A quiet voice came from your right, Jimin having moved closer while you looked at Namjoon. He had wanted to hold you since the minute he had heard your voice over the phone that very first day. He could feel your heartache and your pain through your voice, he remembered he broke into tears at the sound of you so unsure.

Jimin sat on the couch next to you, turned to face you as he brought his hand up to brush your hair softly behind your ear so he could see you. You noticed Taehyung sitting behind him, a hand on Jimin’s lower back and an even softer look sent your way.

“You’ll never have to hurt again, with us. Just…give us a chance.” Jimin pleads with you, his voice soft. He thought you weren’t going to accept them; thought you were going to reject them. He knew pain was nothing new to you. He didn’t know if you would rather accept that or accept them.

You couldn’t help but to burst into tears at the sight before you. While Jimin was talking the rest of the boys on the other couch had moved closer, as close as they could get to you with Jungkook sitting at your feet, hands still connected to your own, rubbing the small bruise at the base of your thumb.

Jimin didn’t falter, he just moved his hand that was cupping your cheek to brush his thumb across your cheeks, wiping away your tears with such a softness you hadn’t felt since your mom had passed. His movements had you nodding your head, slowly at first, almost like a subtle flinch but then you were nodding your head up and down, his hand moving to follow your movements.

Once Jimin recognizes your nodding, once he realizes what it means, the biggest smile breaks out on his lips, eyes closing in what you recognize as his signature eye smile. He starts jumping in his seat and wraps his arms around you, almost falling into you as he does so, your weight now being supported by Namjoon behind you.

Jin smirks as he looks over you and Jimin to catch eyes with Namjoon, glad that you were giving them a chance, just like he predicted. Jin knew you would give them a chance, and he was preparing to woo you like never before, even though in Jin’s eyes, you would have never said no to begin with.

Your sniffle brings the boys out of their excited reverie, everyone looking at you and making you become embarrassed as you wipe your nose with your sleeve, no tissue in sight for you to reach for. You had stopped crying in between Jimin and Namjoon, feeling the bond activate at your words and feelings of acceptance.

You knew there was no going back at this point.

You knew the bond would take hold and cement the bond in your own soul.

“So, what happens now?” Your words had your soulmates scrambling, everyone talking at once as Namjoon remains silent, trying to remember what his own thoughts were as he held you in his arms.

Next Chapter

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prostocupoftea · 7 months ago

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Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

#oh btw. i have no official name for it yet. it is programmers bc main characters are programmers. but like.#i want to make a real name for em somewhere down the line #but for now they are #kinitopet programmers au #i was really stressing about how “not-canon” sonny looks #and then i was like. girl. only time he was in canon he was a black blob with one eye. and even that is not surely him.#so i chilled out. as i should B)#i am so tired from this rn tho #kinitopet #kinito pet #kinitopet au #kinito the axolotl #kinitopet fanart #kinito fanart #sonny c #kinitopet sonny #sonny chamberlain #kinitopet oc #bruh i hope this will go better than my hazbin hotel fic (i still want to write it sooo muchhhhhh--- i love my oc and story i am just-----#out of the fandom rn----- damn thats so sad)

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