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navybrat817 · 5 months ago

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Hold You Tight: Part 3

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4

Chapter Summary: The date is just beginning, but you're not sure if you can keep it together.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, possessiveness, manipulation, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You took a deep breath and another, but it didn’t stop your heart from picking up in your chest. It was a feat that your legs didn’t give out. Your throat felt rough and raw, except you hadn’t screamed. You hadn’t made a sound. Not until Bucky moved toward you, pulling a whimper from you.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he said, cupping your face with a smile. You wanted to believe there was a warmth behind it or that he had a voice in his head telling him that this wasn’t right. That none of this was right. “Don’t you like them?”

“The flowers. The guy who bought them…” you swallowed, wondering exactly who he was and how he was associated with Bucky. Did Bucky know him well or was he a stranger? Did he bribe him into going into his shop?

“Oh, he’s fine,” Bucky assured you, which didn’t make you feel any better. “Loved the tulips you helped pick out for him. I know his girl will be very happy to get them, too.”

The citrus and woodsy combination of Bucky’s cologne filled your nostrils as you took another deep breath. You expected to stumble back when he suddenly crouched down, but you didn’t budge an inch. Once again, you were frozen in fear. Why couldn’t you move? You told yourself he wouldn’t hurt you. Why bother dragging you all the way to his place for that when he could’ve done so in your home?

Or, apparently, your place of work.

“Why don’t we have some of that wine after I show you around?” He asked, retrieving the clutch you dropped.

“Do you really expect me to just sit and have a drink with you?”

“Not just a drink,” he said, slowly standing and reminding you just how large he was. “Dinner. Dessert.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” You asked.

He nodded over your shoulders. “There’s one right behind you.”

You turned and went into the bathroom, careful not to lock the door behind you as much as you wanted to. He may have broken down the door if you tried. You gripped the sink as you struggled to take your next breath, blood rushing in your ears as you looked at your reflection. A voice in the back of your mind whispered to stay calm when tears threatened to spill over for the second time that evening.

Could you though? Could you play along and get through this night without having some sort of breakdown? You had to try.

Your attention was pulled away by the soft knock on the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Would you care if I wasn't?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

The door opened a heartbeat later, but you didn't dare meet his gaze in the mirror as he approached. Not even as he pressed himself against your back, your body trapped between his and the sink. It was suffocating. He brought a hand up to lift your chin, forcing your eyes to lock with his. The light above the mirror put a spotlight on the intensity of his gaze as his lips brushed your ear.

“I care more than you think,” he whispered, turning you to face him. His fingers traced the column of your neck before he let go. “In time, I know you’ll see that.”

You fought the urge to laugh as he led you back into the entryway. If he cared, he would’ve gone about this whole thing differently. You focused your attention instead on the penthouse, taking in more of the decor as he showed you around. As immaculate as the place looked, it lacked a personal touch. Where were the photos? Trinkets?

“What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful place,” you answered. And it was beautiful, but it didn't feel like a home or lived in like your place.

“A bit spacious for just me,” he said, glancing at you. Was it his roundabout way of stating again how he expected you to move in?

“Yeah, it’s a lot for one person, but it’s still nice.”

He nodded in agreement. “The couch is comfortable if you ever want to take a nap,” he said, an almost knowing look in his eyes as you stopped at the living room. Jesus, did he know you slept on your couch last night? “Though I’d prefer you sleep in our bed.”

“Our” bed. Not subtle at all. “I know you said this would be my place one day, too, but maybe we should get well past the first date before we talk about sharing a bed,” you said, sarcastically adding, “I hog the blankets, so I hope you're prepared for that.”

He chuckled and you wished you didn't like the pleasant sound. “You can have as many blankets as you want. And I had every intention of showing you the master bedroom tonight, but I think I’ll wait.”

“Really?” You asked, hoping you didn't sound too eager to avoid seeing it. Was there a catch?

“Really,” he said, pulling you close by the hips. Through his clothes, you felt how firm he was. There was strength there you couldn't match. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. And when I take you to bed, I’m going to ruin you. That's a promise.”

A shuddering breath left your lungs as he leaned in, his lips skimming yours.

“But I’m not the monster you think I am, which is why I’m going to wait,” he whispered.

It was a relief that Bucky wasn't going to take you to bed. Not tonight, at least. At the same time, what exactly was he waiting for? He made it clear that he wanted you and wasn't going to let go. What game was he playing?

Thinking about it was enough to drive you mad.

“And you won't hurt me?” You questioned. You had to hear him say it.

“I’d never hurt you,” he promised, pulling away at the two knocks on the front door.

He wouldn't hurt you, but what about other people?

“Chef’s here, boss,” the guard’s voice rang out.

“Perfect timing,” Bucky smiled.

He kept a hand on you as he guided you to the kitchen, the guard and who you assumed to be the chef entering seconds later. “Mr. Barnes, so good to see you.”

“You as well,” Bucky replied, his demeanor professional and somewhat colder.

Your eyes went back to the guard as Bucky chatted with the chef. He seemed to avoid your gaze, keeping his eye instead on the two men speaking. Did he know the circumstances that brought you here? Would he care if he did?

“You’re sure this is what you’d like, Mr. Barnes? This is a relatively simple meal,” the chef scoffed, making a show of gesturing to the ingredients. It dawned on you as you looked at them that he was going to prepare one of your favorite meals. Your stomach dropped, but you kept quiet. Of course, Bucky knew.

And of course, it wasn't sophisticated.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as if he sensed your embarrassment. The guard didn't look impressed by the chef’s comment either. “It’s her favorite. Are you insulting my girl’s taste?” he spoke, making you shiver from the ice in his tone.

“No, Mr. Barnes. Of course not! I meant no disrespect.” The chef shook his head, meeting your gaze with a shaky smile. “To be simple is to be great.”

“That’s right. Simplicity is also to be respected,” Bucky said, pointing a gloved finger at him. “And with your reputation, it better be the best meal she has ever had. I’d hate to see what happens if she doesn’t like it.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered. It was better to focus on easing the situation instead of yet another reminder that he knew another intimate detail about you. That and you felt bad as the man behind the counter began to sweat. “I’m sure the meal will be delicious. Thank you for taking the time to come here and prepare it.”

The tension dissipated as Bucky softly smiled at you, a crisis averted for the time being. “We’re going to enjoy our wine on the balcony while he prepares our meal,” he told the guard. “Keep an eye on him.”

“Will do.”

Bucky took you away from the kitchen before the chef could speak another word to you. Fresh air might help you breathe easier. He opened the glass door, the night breeze making you shiver as you stepped outside. The view of the city stretched on and the moon and stars lit up the sky. It was breathtaking.

You jumped when Bucky put his jacket around your shoulders. The romantic gesture felt like a claim. “I hope his comment didn't upset you. If it did-”

“It’s fine. Really,” you assured him, glancing at the two-seater table as he pulled out a chair for you. Two glasses were set out as well, along with what you knew to be an expensive bottle of wine. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is,” he agreed, your cheeks flaming when you saw him looking at you instead of the view.

“Do you spend a lot of time out here?” You asked.

He popped the cork on the bottle and poured each of you a small amount. You almost thanked him for that. You had to keep your wits about you.

“Not as much as I’d like to,” he said, nodding to a small sofa in the corner as he took a seat. “But I do like to read out here.”

“You read in your free time?” You asked, biting back a moan when you sipped the wine.

His eyes lit up and just as quickly darkened when you licked your lips. “I do. Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

“That’s really nice,” you smiled. For a moment it felt like the two of you were having a normal conversation.

That good feeling went away when he took out a velvet box.

“Can’t forget about the surprise,” he smiled before he handed it over. It looked too long to be a ring box, thankfully, but it wouldn't have surprised you if there was an engagement ring inside. Which was likely why your hand shook as you opened it.

The diamond pendant was stunning enough to make you gasp. Five stones each a different shape, they sparkled under the moonlight. The kind of necklace you could only dream of having.

“Bucky, I’m sorry.” You shut the box and slid it back across the table toward him. “I can’t accept this.”

His gaze flickered to the box before he looked at you again. You wanted to believe he looked concerned, but he hadn’t exactly taken any of your feelings into consideration so far. “Why not? We can pick out another together if you’d rather have something else.”

“I can’t accept it because it’s too much,” you said. Accepting the gift would make the situation more real.

He chuckled after a moment. “No, it isn't. Nothing would ever be too much for me to give to you.”

You reached across to tap the top of the box. “Bucky, this is the kind of gift that you give to your wife or fiancé or girlfriend. Hell, maybe a mistress or a sugar baby. I’m none of those things.” Something flickered in his gaze and that should’ve been your warning to stop, but you kept going anyway. “I’m not your girl.”

He took your hand before you could pull it away, his jaw clenched. “You’re right about one thing. You’re not my mistress or a sugar baby,” he agreed. “You could never be those things because you are the only one I see.”

But why? It didn’t make any sense to you. “But-”

“Girlfriend, fiancé, wife,” he ticked off with the fingers of his free hand. “We'll get to all those phases of our relationship, so you might as well accept this gift now or you'll be accepting much more than this later.”

You swallowed, but didn’t attempt to pull away. His grip didn’t hurt and you didn’t know exactly what he was implying, but you didn’t want to find out tonight. Not when he promised he wouldn’t drag you off to his room. “Thank you for the wonderful gift.”

He smiled and took the box as he stood. You didn't protest as he moved to put the necklace around your neck nor did you flinch when his fingers moved along on your skin. When he sat back down, he sighed and lovingly looked you over. “It's beautiful. Just like I knew it would be on you."

You touched it after a moment, the feel of his fingertips still lingering. “I didn't expect something so nice for a first date.”

“This is only the beginning.” He tilted his head and let his eyes watch you trace the delicate gems. “You deserve so much more.”

“Is this some elaborate joke?” You scoffed a bit. He sounded so sure of himself, that he believed you deserved the world. But why? “You do realize that I'm just a florist. And I don't say that to belittle my career because I love what I do, but I'm nothing special.”

Sadness took over his eyes. “Why would you say that?”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with the stranger who broke into your home. You didn’t want to have any sort of conversation tonight. “Because I don't own the flower shop I work at. I'm not rich. Hell, I lived with a roommate until last year just to save up and afford my own place. You should know since you researched me,” you said without a trace of bitterness. “I’m not a party girl. I don't turn heads wherever I go. I just want to work with my flowers, go home, and live a simple little life.”

His eyes followed the motion of you biting your lip again before he shook his head. “You think being rich and owning a business are the things it takes to make someone special?”

“No, I don't think that.”

“Then what does?”

You looked around the balcony with a sigh before meeting his gaze again. “Who a person is makes them special.”

“Yet everything you stated has nothing to do with who you are. So I’ll ask again, why would you say you're nothing special?”

You didn't know how to respond. You thought he would’ve just dropped the conversation, so you looked into your lap with a shake of your head. If you were special, wouldn’t you have found someone by now the way Addision and your other friends had? You didn’t want to pour out your insecurities, even if he seemed to hold an invisible knife and was ready to cut them open. “I don't know. I just know I’m not.”

He hummed a little. “So, would someone who is nothing special make homemade meals for her neighbor because she recently had a baby and probably wouldn't have time to cook for herself?”

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly hurt yourself. “How-”

“And not only are you in Addison's wedding party, you offered to have her flowers done so she could have more money for her honeymoon. You're telling me that being caring and thoughtful doesn’t make a person special?”

Goosebumps raised on your skin, realizing just how thorough he was in his research of you. “How do you know all of that about me?” Tears sprang to your eyes and you blinked them back. “I didn't tell anyone about my neighbor or the flowers.”

He cracked a small smile. “That's one of the things that makes you special. You don't do those things expecting anything in return and you sure as hell don't do it to brag. You do them because you care.” He took a second to lean back in his seat, his eyes still on you. “When I see something I want, I give it my all. And I'm not afraid to use my resources. I told you, I like to be thorough.”

You giggled. A hysterical sort of giggle. One that scared you because you had never laughed like that. “I don't know if I can do this,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I shouldn't be here. I should be getting a restraining order.”

Bucky didn't look offended in the slightest. “You could try. Do you think it’ll stop me?”

What little resolve you had left snapped. “Oh, my god. Do you hear yourself? I mean, really hear yourself?!” You snapped, tempted to throw the remainder of your wine on him when he didn’t react. “You know what a first date is, right? It’s two people trying to get to know each other and to see if there’s a mutual connection. You didn’t give me a chance to form a connection with you because you decided it for me after you stalked me.”

His brows pinched like you hurt his feelings. “Doll-”

“You know ‘everything’ about me, but what do I know about you, huh?” You continued, your anxiety bubbling over. “I know that you own a club and that you break into homes and scare the shit out of people. Oh, and that you read. And you apparently have the world at your fingertips since you can send people into my place of work and find out details about me that most aren’t privy to. You could probably use those resources of yours for good or to help others, but you used them to dig into my life when I didn't ask you to!”

“Some people do research before a first date,” he pointed out, not raising his voice.

“Not a full background check! I’m not an employee of yours and I’m not a toy for you to play with!” You huffed as you sat back, suddenly exhausted. How was he unphased? “You really think you have a say in my future? Are you that much of a control freak that you think you can control me?”

The silence stretched on as Bucky considered you and your body trembled as he idly sipped his wine. You weren’t the type to snap and you suddenly felt the urge to apologize for your outburst, which wasn’t fair. He put you in this situation, so why did you want to make it better?

Because you didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m not trying to control you,” he stated, handing you a handkerchief.

“It feels like you are and that isn’t fair,” you said, dabbing at your eyes. Life wasn’t exactly fair though, was it? “And for the record, the only reason I’m not tossing this wine on you is because it’s delicious and it would be a waste.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed. “I wish you could’ve met my mom. She would’ve loved you,” he said so softly you almost missed it, the change in topic jarring to say the least. What happened to her? “I’ve tried traditional dating. It doesn’t and hasn’t worked for me so far. The last woman I dated? She tried to rob me, if you can believe that.”

You sighed, still a bit worn out from your rant. “I can,” you said. There were greedy people in the world and he seemed to have more than enough to provide others with a comfortable life. It wasn’t right that someone tried to take what he earned.

It also wasn’t right what he was doing to you.

“In my line of work, everyone wants something from me. Money, power, favors. It’s hard to trust people,” he said, his gaze surprisingly soft as he took your hand again. “But not you.”

“Because that’s not the kind of person I am,” you guessed.

You were in many ways the opposite of him. While you weren’t poor, you certainly weren’t rich or powerful and didn’t want to use people for your gain. Perhaps that was why he wanted you so badly. You were someone who didn’t want anything from him. Someone like you was easy for him to control since you didn’t run in that kind of circle, even if he said he wasn’t trying to.

Maybe you should have put up a fight instead of making yourself an easy target.

Wait, why were you blaming yourself?

“I know it isn’t,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “So, maybe I’m a control freak and maybe my approach is a bit extreme, but I don't want to control you. I like who you are, doll. You’re loyal and caring and real. The kind of person I want and need.”

You took a sip of wine so you didn't have to respond. He needed you, so he said, but did you need him? And why did his praise warm your insides? You didn't want it to feel nice.

“And maybe I like that you aren’t the kind of person who has a hidden agenda and that you aren’t a party girl. Even you snapping at me. I love that fire. I want more of it. Burn me with it if you want,” he continued, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “Fuck, I can’t take my eyes off you. And I can't stop thinking about you.”

The look in his eyes put you on edge. “But we-”

“You’re good for me and you may not believe I’m good for you, but I am. We’re right for each other,” he said. The fierce determination in his gaze almost had you believing it. “And aren’t you tired of being lonely? I know I am.”

Loneliness could eat away at a person. Drive them to do desperate things. It didn't excuse his actions.

“Lonely or not, you can't force us to be together,” you said.

“I’m not forcing us to be together. You chose to be here tonight.”

“You know why I came here,” you argued. He had to know you did this because of his threat. “And I’ll behave or do whatever I need to do for the rest of the night, but I can't promise anything beyond that.”

Instead of anger like you expected, he smiled. Like a wolf flashing his teeth before sinking into its prey. “That’s okay because I have a promise for you,” he began, the flame dancing in his eyes. “You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The balcony door opening covered up the wheeze you let out, but didn't hide the despair written all over your face. He couldn't be serious. “Dinner’s ready,” the guard stated.

Bucky didn't spare him a glance as he stood and kept your hand in his, your appetite gone as his smile widened. “C’mon, doll. Better not let it get cold.”

Ooh. Will he really have you out of your place that soon? How awkward will that meal be? And who do we think this guard is? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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jjenthusee · 2 months ago

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Racing Hearts Pt. 4

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: hello my gremlins <3 i wanted to share with u guys that i successfully moved YAY so that explains the update being slightly behind and the less responses i’ve given to comments (i read them all i swear <3) BUT HERE IT IS \(^o^)/ i took way too long to edit and rewrite the way i believe the story should go, im having so much fun with this series and i want to thank all of u who are supporting it from the beginning or saw the updates as they came. ENJOY the fourth chapter of the Racing Hearts series (ALSO THERE’S 300 FOLLOWERS WOW 🥹 THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT LIKE MY PAGE AND CONTINUE TO SUPPORT MY CRAZY SAD WRITING AND MY DRAWINGS i love reading your funny comments, unhinged reblogs, and talking about your favorite parts of the story, it really gave me the push to write and contribute to the jason todd community) and i just wanted to remind yall…i haven’t forgotten about that hurt/comfort tag :)

Check out the Racing Hearts masterlist! It shows all the updated chapters and upcoming ones <3

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spicy if u squint, we’re hitting halfway thru the story so let me introduce what i do best…angst HAHAHA

Word Count: 4.1k

“In all of my career, I have to say that I never thought I would be standing here wearing…these.” Jason looked down to his feet.

The camera focused on the two of you standing next to one another, the lens following Jason’s stare toward the ground. The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing.

You sheepishly admired the shoes, proudly smiling back up to Jason. Bewilderment plastered on his face as he couldn’t believe you actually gifted him Lightning McQueen merch, not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him.

What a predicament he was in. He was definitely not offended when you told him how similar the red car and he were.

“It’s a small thanks from the company for completing your third interview with us.” You smiled brightly at Jason. “Also consider it as a way for us to say ‘good luck’ for your upcoming season.”

Jason couldn’t believe it as he laughed. No matter how much time he spent with you, you always surprised him in the best ways.

“Y’know, I thought the Cars jokes were going to fade out, but you’re a bad influence on my fans.” Jason lightheartedly teased you, stomping his foot enough to let the crocs light up.

You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second. You bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling, internally promising yourself that you would make sure to get a picture of him later.

You already had his new contact picture picked out.

“I couldn’t think of any other way of showing you my support.” You nodded your head proudly.

“Really? Nothing else?” Jason’s eyebrow rose, his tone sarcastic.

“You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.” You smirked, watching the shoes sparkle.

“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” Jason looked at you in disbelief.

“Anyway! We’re closing this as the last part of our series, I’m glad you were able to be a guest before you get busy putting on the RedBull uniform again, I know your fans will really enjoy that—” You wrapped up the finale, finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.

But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night.

“This can’t be the last time I see you. You’re my favorite interviewer.” Jason lulled his voice, rephrasing your earlier comment back at you. “After all, you gifted me something so…special.”

You paused, shocked at Jason’s forwardness with you, the timber of his voice adding an underlying flirty tone to him.

You’ve never talked to him about the public appearance about the two of you. Could you go public?

It’s for the camera. You silently told yourself.

“You have to win for me to see you again.” You smirked, quickly playing along with his attempt to fluster you.

“That’s too easy, you could try to make this a little harder for me.” Jason chuckled lowly. “It’s almost like you want to see me.”

Oh my.

“So much talk for someone who hasn’t started his comeback season.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “You also didn’t start your last season smoothly, so don’t talk so confidently.”

“But who sat at my last press conference celebrating my win? I don’t end things so easily.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at you, tension increasing. “I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.”

Jason winked at you, the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher between the RedBull Jason on camera and your Jason.

He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.

You calmly gave in, maybe it was for the camera or maybe it was for you.

“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think I could keep that a secret.” Your polite smile opposing Jason’s mischievous one. “I don’t think you realize but,” you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger. “I’m a reporter, I can’t keep that beautiful face to myself.”

“But I’m really good at keeping them.” Jason stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes beamed a playful hue to them.

You cleared your throat, looking at the camera woman who also stared in awe.

Crap, the office was going to get suspicious.

“You should focus on winning first before you make any promises.” You coughed, diffusing the atmosphere Jason created as the film crew watched. “Then call my business number and you don’t have to keep any secrets.”

Once the camera stopped rolling, you resumed your professionalism. Saying goodbyes and getting final pictures for the website and both social medias.

All the previous interviews went well. The fans saw Jason’s personality in action, gaining more attention and love for the racer. Jason’s management team was satisfied with you and the attraction he was gaining before the season started.

It gave him the right press he needed to put him in the spotlight.

After Jason left with his management team, you finalized the video upload that his company agreed to. Your draft for a new article about Jason to be edited and reviewed for the upcoming week. It was business as usual.

Getting work done during the day, then meeting Jason for the evening.

When you got back to your desk, you organized yourself to overlook the release date for the final interview and reviewed for the next big project to tackle now that your work with Jason was finished. Multiple meetings with project managers and your team.

Work was picking up for you, managing larger projects, interacting with larger faces.

Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.

Your phone lit up next to your laptop, distracting you from one screen to another.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: pick you up at 6?

You smiled to yourself. Happy, but bittersweet.

You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending. You wished time could slow down.

—— “Gosh, you’re so clumsy.” You adjusted Jason’s helmet. All the time spent with him reflected in your familiarity with the motorcycle helmet.

“Only for you.” Jason stood there, leaning down to let you reach around his head. Watching you worry about the two of you.

Jason had kept his promise to pick you up.

Most of the time he waited on you to get back from work. Sometimes pushing the boundaries and secretly meeting you for a quick lunch. Meeting him far from where your coworkers frequented.

Your first encounters were hidden behind the idea of work, finding answers to questions for interviews, or suggesting new places to eat.

It was like you couldn’t be apart from one another.

Oh, how you can change a man.

You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.

But you gave into his every attempt. Not fighting against his clinginess.

Your roles would switch soon, he wouldn’t wait for you after tiring days of work. You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.

He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.

You sat behind Jason, his body warming the front of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Holding onto him close, wearing the helmet he got you, feeling his solid stomach shift the motorcycle as you rode around the city. You were getting used to your new lifestyle, despite the hidden secrets you shared.

He couldn’t announce a relationship after you were waiting for the last installment of your interviews.

The timing wasn’t right and the meetings this would cause for you and Jason were going to give you a headache.

You heard the motorcycle engine interrupt your thoughts.

Jason slowing at a red light. He stopped, placing his feet on the ground to stabilize the two of you while you waited. The red glow reflected onto Jason sitting in front of you.

The streets were almost empty. Gotham barely waking to the darkness, a city that never sleeps.

“Jay.” You hesitated behind him.

“Hm?” Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.

“I want to stay with you longer.” You calmed your voice, careful in verbalizing your feelings.

“You want to drive around more? I think we can drive by—“ Jason continued to rub your wrists. Cars passing in front of him, the opposing traffic keeping you still.

“No, I don’t want to leave you tonight.”

Jason paused, his hand resting on yours, no longer moving. If the cars weren’t in front of you, crossing the intersection, you would have thought time was frozen.

Jason tilted his helmet back, to get a look at you.

You don’t know what he was looking for, your face covered by a protective helmet like his was, but he found what he needed when the light turned green.

It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.

Just you and Jason.

“Want to come to my place?” Jason kept his black visor on you. “I have a killer TV to watch Cars on.”

You chuckled. Squeezing his waist a little more.

“Better have a good speaker for playing Life is a Highway.”

Jason smirked, hidden from your eyes as he watched you lean back into his warmth.

The humid air covering the two of you into summer clothing. Thinner fabrics and showing more skin.

Jason wore a simple fitted thin long-sleeve, matching the look of his helmet and gloves. It made a great view of his broad back.

A quiet exhale as he looked forward again, revving his engine to life to make a quick turn, opposite of your home.

You were racing the rain as Jason was taking you back, but after you spoke the magic words, how could he send you back home?

The dark summer rain clouds were no longer behind you, the two of you heading straight for them as you watch Jason take you down new streets, an unfamiliar path to Jason’s place.

“I don’t think you’ll make it to the living room before then.” Jason quietly spoke to the light drizzle hitting your bodies

“What did you say?” You couldn’t hear above the engine.

And he was right.

After you were soaked to the bone, fabric sticking to your form, water droplets falling down your skin. A glossy sheen from the harsh rain falling all around you.

Jason had pulled into his garage.

He was in the same state, wet clothes stuck to his skin. The water from you and the motorcycle dripping onto the concrete floor.

You pulled your helmet off, the only dry place.

Once Jason parked the bike, he took off his helmet, placing it on the nearest work table. Your body shivered as you threw your leg over to maneuver yourself off.

You looked down at your state, smiling in disbelief at being caught in the rain.

Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower. You internally thought to yourself. Excited to enter Jason’s place. A new location unlocked.

When you put your helmet next to Jason’s, you could finally take in all of him.

Black shirt tight from the weight of the water, his hands littered with scars, free from the gloves. His hair dry, but messy.

All his muscles more prominent.

You stood in awe, your chest rising from the breaths you took. Humid air invading the inside of the garage, elevated from warm summer nights.

The sight of Jason reminded you of the professional pictures taken of him, leaving his Formula 1 car after a race. He was sweaty, running his hands through his hair with a towel in hand.

After all the time you spent together, it was your favorite photo of him. You secretly saved it because there was something about the look on his face, happy to win, alive on the track.

How attractive he looked was a definite bonus in your opinion.

Jason glanced over to you, finally realizing the state the two of you were in. He slowly looked you up and down, lost in the same visual you were in awe of once you saw him.

You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by.

A slight warmth increasing on your face.

Jason stepped closer to you, hands grabbing for your waist to pull you in. His hands reaching under your chin to stretch your neck to adjust to his height.

Breaths mixing as your lips touched only from the movement of your lips unconsciously opening, ready to kiss him.

He waited.

Letting the pressure build as he spoke.

“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” Jason lifted you, letting you sit on the surface of his work table. His arm swooping everything off as he cleared enough room for you.

You could hear objects fall, but you couldn’t care less as Jason stepped between your legs. Quickly, but carefully rubbing at your legs with his palms, his hands getting closer to the blurs of where your thighs met your waist.

Everywhere felt great that you didn’t know where to focus.

The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?

You could only huff between the intensity he was igniting in you.

“Jay—inside—it’s cold.”

Despite your words, you didn’t bother to move. You kept touching, feeling everything before Jason lifted you again, the placement of his hands as he carried you, lifting the edges of your shirt.

The feeling of a mattress beneath you as you uncomfortably tried to peel the clothing off your body.

Jason chuckled at your frustration. You couldn’t bother to give him a snide remark as he also struggled to get your soaked clothes off.

When lifting the shirt didn’t work, you tried rolling the fabric, but it only bunched just below your sleeves.

You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms. Tangled in the mess you both created that you were left with a heavy shirt stuck around your biceps.

“Why is there always something stopping me from seeing all of you?” Jason laughed as he kneeled above you, his shirt completely off at some point along the way to his room.

“I don’t think a pair of wet clothes are going to stop you now.” You smiled at him, glancing up at his figure through the darkness. Only the city lights creeping through the blinds, illuminating his skin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Jason yanked your entire shirt off your arms.

You sucked in a breath at his desperation, memorizing the look of his face as he leaned down closer.

“I want to turn you into a mess.” He whispered into your mouth, kissing down your body.

Overwhelming gasps and breaths left your mouth the more he touched your skin.

“I want to touch you too.” You exhaled, trying to coherently express yourself.

“Next time, sweetheart. I want to focus on you. Everything I want is you.” Jason moved your hair out of your face, stuck from the sweat covering your skin.

The night filled with you repeating Jason’s name, no distractions keeping that man off of you.

After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes. You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.

What you weren’t prepared for was just how normal his apartment looked. It felt like yours, but bigger, a little more luxurious like it was bought with the intention of having better quality to last longer.

You hoped he had no plans of moving anytime soon.

You stood in the kitchen in awe.

“You have a kitchen island.” You whistled in excitement. “Formula 1 money is good, huh? Maybe I need to pick up a Redbull uniform.”

Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. You continued to speak.

“No, I can’t steal your fame.” You whispered to yourself. Jason feeling the vibration of your voice the longer he leaned into your neck.

“I’m happy you’re here.” Jason mumbled into you, ignoring everything you said.

“Me too, I’ve been curious where you live.”

“I invited you before, but I guess we’ve always gone to your place.” Jason smiled into your skin. “What do you think?”

“Its very…Jason. I like it.” You glanced around.

You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.

His apartment was slightly bare, the space a little too large for the one man, but that was charming too. It felt like you were able to occupy that small empty space in his life.

When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling, you noticed the small knick-knacks you bought with him on your dates.

Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.

You felt cherished, looking at the physical representations of your memories together.

He grabbed you again, wanting the closeness. You fell back into him, the small paper frog in your hand, made from old receipt paper.

Jason resumed his prior back hug, absorbing your warmth.

He was more clingy than usual tonight.

“How was your trip to the charity today? I forgot to ask you about it at dinner, it must be hard to take a break from them to race again.” You leaned into him more.

Jason buried himself further. Not a great hiding spot since he was larger, but it was the thought that counted.

“I would love to hear about it.” You put the frog back on the shelf, letting it watch the two of you.

“It was good, I got to do one final check to make sure everything would be good when I’m gone. But…” Jason hesitated, squeezing you a little tighter.

You waited, rubbing circles on his forearm.

“I had noticed a lot of stuff come in, it’s a good thing, but it wasn’t like our usual haul. I didn’t recognize it as the stuff I brought over either.” Jason breathed, agitation filling his voice. “When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.”

Jason went silent. He was tense.

“I always tell that old man to fuck off. He never listens.” Jason sighed.

The last thing Jason wanted was another check from Bruce. Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.

Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.

“I can’t stand it.” Jason whispered. His eyebrows taut.

You maneuvered your head back to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, I know that was the last thing you wanted to happen.” You soothed.

Jason leaned in for more kisses.

“Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Jason smiled into your skin, his voice returning to normal. “But looking at those damn crocs every morning makes me mad.”

You laughed as he grew bolder, pushing the topic aside as you leaned to the floor buried from Jason’s affection surge.

If he was deflecting, distracting himself from his hurt then you could let him kiss you a couple times to distract himself.

Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.

——

Once the public release of the third and final interview was released to your company’s website, the usual flood of comments embraced the look at the two of you.

You lost yourself in the positive comments, ignoring the negative ones, but that was the price of social media. It was the evils of publicity.

You read comment after comment about the excitement to watch the fresh new season. Iconic racers coming back to their playing field, excited to reveal new car designs, getting the opportunity to collaborate with anyone and everyone.

As the time for Qualifying reached you, the temperature fully warmed and Jason wasn’t next to you to enjoy it.

He had conferences, practice drives, and flights to catch. Now that he was past elimination, it was time to test his fastest time.

It wasn’t even the peak of the season, but you were missing him.

You sighed into your phone, a small vibration felt in your palm. A message from Jason appeared.

It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.

You smiled to yourself in your desk chair, but a small prick to your heart struck you.

The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing.

You felt…small.

The two of you hadn’t talked about what would happen once he started racing full-time again.

How far was this relationship going?

Would you follow him to his races around the world? Should you follow him?

Would you officially announce anything?

Was this an off-season romance? Only an off-season romance?

What about your job?

“Hey, we need to be there by one. Should we grab a quick lunch?” Your coworker called out to you, interrupting your pessimistic thoughts to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Meet you in the lobby?” You locked your computer, grabbing your key badge, ready to go out of the office.

You quickly typed out a message, taking advantage of Jason still on his phone.

You: Hey slow down try to give the other guys a chance

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)

You blushed, quickly putting away your phone to catch up with your team.

——

Jason’s performance during qualifying went as expected. He performed in P1, claiming and boasting as he usually did. His time seemed to be getting faster, raising the competition standards for everyone.

You only shook your head as you looked at the results on your phone, a small smile on your face.

Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.

You: I knew those crocs were good luck charms

No read receipt. No reply.

You kept yourself busy at work. Falling into a routine.

You checked your phone again during lunch. No messages.

Your apartment felt empty when you came home, no lovable man standing in the kitchen.

Still no reply from Jason. It would’ve made you sad if you weren’t so tired.

Your phone rang as you got ready for bed. Letting your head hit the pillow as you heard Jason’s voice in your ear.

“I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.

His voice was too soothing.

“That’s nice, Jay.” You slurred.

��Sweetheart? Are you awake—“ His voice started to get farther and farther.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open and your dreams filled with you sitting in the stands, watching Jason race.

Wind hitting your skin, watching the flags fly in the air, engines roaring past you.

He was so far away and kept driving further away from you.

You jerked awake. Looking for your phone in the blankets.

You had fallen asleep while on your first phone call with Jason since he left.

“Shit, I wanted to hear his voice.” You shook the blanket in the air until your phone fell from it.

You looked at your call history. Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.

Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too. You quickly opened your messaging conversation.

You (Yesterday): I knew those crocs were good luck charms

You (Today): i’m sorry I didn’t know it was a video call

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: don’t worry about it, I got to see u when your phone fell off your face

“Nooo!” You screamed to yourself.

Your face fell in your hands as you read the messages coming in.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I got something out of it HAHAHA

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: let’s talk next time

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I wanna hear your voice

You sighed.

Getting up to start your weekend, putting Jason’s live race on the TV screen.

Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #writing #au #racing hearts

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

Text

I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PIV, Cursing, SMUT, ANGST, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: When Reacher reached your town, he was lucky enough to meet you the first day. You made him feel things he’d never felt before. And though there was the sad tug of goodbye in every interaction, he couldn’t help but stay one more night.

AO3 Link

Word count: 2,253k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, @kiwi-jelly-mochi! LOL. I rewatched Reacher tonight. Need that man badly! This is what my brain considers a drabble. Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Reacher had a lot of adjusting to do when it came to you. He was a man that prided himself on being as free as possible, never sticking anywhere for too long. He didn’t stay in the same place twice. There was too much world to see and his boots were made for walking.

However, when he blew through your hometown, he saw you sitting outside of a local coffee cafe, nose deep in a book and sipping on hot coffee. A glance was all it took for him to know that he had to meet you. Talk to you.

It took some convincing. You kept saying you didn’t usually go for “white guys”. Like you were trying to convince yourself not to say yes to him. That only made him try harder. Stick around the town longer than usual, actually finding the place relaxing for once.

No matter where he went, trouble always seemed to follow. Not here. Not with you. It was like you cast some type of spell over the town, warding it from any evil intent swinging through. If he believed in such things, he’d firmly believe you cast a spell on him.

It could explain how his chest grew tight whenever you looked at him. Or when you smiled at something small like when flower petals landed on your hand or when you heard children laughing. You were so sweet all the time. So full of love and optimism besides all the horrors in the world.

He strangely found that he didn’t mind it. He wanted to soak up more of it. Be around it. Around you. Interested in the way you make him feel. Stirring up feelings he wasn’t sure how to interpret.

His favorite thing so far was when you called him your robot. He knew he wasn’t the most expressive, the most welcoming. He’d been called everything under the sun by men twice your height and weight, upset that someone treated them like an adult for once.

He would be lying if he didn’t like your attempts to make him smile naturally. Doing funny impressions, making funny faces at him, bumping your shoulder with his. He played along, doubling down on being a robot but that was okay.

He liked that you were the beauty to his brute. You made him feel like Fred Flinstone whenever you blinked those cute eyes at him. You let him turn his brain off, live in the moment.

Speaking of, you were sitting on your couch, drinking your favorite drink and listening to old vinyl records your grandmother left you. You weren’t really into the music, but listening to it made you feel closer to her. Mourn the relationship you never had. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t always turn it off.

In his mind, details mattered. He wanted to bask in all of your details. The moles, the scars, the lines in the palm of your hand. You’ve lived and that made you the most interesting thing in the world to him.

Cool jazz music played, Billie’s voice crooning, and you lightly bobbed your head, looking at him. He smiled at you, loving the soft way your eyes crinkled. You took another sip and tilted your head at him. “What you thinkin’ about Mr. Robot?” You asked. You reached out and tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You,” he said, seeing no reason to be coy.

“What about me?” You asked.

“How pretty you’d look in my lap,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. But you placed your drink down on the coffee table and scooted closer. “You’re gonna make it hard when you finally say goodbye,” you said, your voice wobbling. You kept on a brave face, smiling despite it all.

He told you that he wasn’t the sticking around type. The more he stayed here, the more he gained familiar haunts with you day by day, he wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. Wanderlust was his first love. Needing to roam thanks to his military background. Never putting down roots. Never staying in any one place long enough to make connections. Just a mean right hook and an itch whenever he saw injustice.

Yet, whenever he thought of leaving, his chest would seize and he’d have to sit there and breathe through the panic. He knew he was in too deep already, but he needed one more night. One more day to wrap himself inside you and pretend to live there. Pretend to claim you. Pretend that you’ll always remember him when you’ve found the love of your life and forgot all about him.

Just one more. That was all he needed. Then he’d be strong enough. Then he’d be the only one strong enough to leave you.

For now, he pulled you by the hand to come sit in his lap. You giggled, scrambling across the lush blue cushions to climb into his lap. He also loved it when you got excited. The way you lived out loud, expressed emotions clearly and vividly. So much so, even a brute like him could pick up on it. Become infected by it. Feel it latch onto his bloodstream and never let up.

He pushed your black flowered dress up your thighs as you settled into his lap. He grabbed two big handfuls of your ass, squeezing it hard just like you needed it. You growled, rolling against his crotch like a needy slut.

You weren’t wearing panties and he chuckled as he gripped your ass, giving it a light smack. “No panties this time?” He asked.

“They just get in the way. Someone has a penchant for ripping them,” you said, pointedly looking at him. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, licked his lips, and leaned in for another kiss. You indulged him, bringing your hands to cup his strong square jaw and scratch at his stubble.

“You’re right, they’re in the way,” he said, grinning naturally, just for you. Your eyes lit up and you squirmed in his lap.

His dick was throbbing with your movements. With the subtle friction from your breasts pushed into his chest. He squeezed your ass again, giving it another smack. He began to kiss your neck, licking the pulse in your neck and causing you to purr. You melted in his hands, falling against him as he moved further down.

He used his teeth to pull down the cups of your dress, freeing your breasts and humming in satisfaction. Fuck, he loved your breasts. Loved how they were the perfect shape and size. He leaned down, needing to feel your soft flesh in his mouth.

He latched onto a nipple, sucking hard. You squealed, hitting his shoulder. He chuckled, sucking harder. He tortured the little nub, feeling it peak beneath his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, Reacher, I could write entire books about this mouth,” you moaned, throwing your head back. You poked your chest out, giving him full and complete access. Just as he liked.

“Please do, I’d love to read it,” he whispered against your titty. You chuckled, bouncing in his lap and rubbing against his dick. He felt lightning strikes straight to his balls, getting heavier with a thick load just for you.

He let go of your titty with a wet pop, leaning back far enough to admire his handy work. Satisfied, he moved on to the other, suckling it and moaning as you rubbed in just the right place. Just enough for him to buck his hips.

“I need you, Reacher,” you whispered into his hair, kissing his head.

“I got you,” he said. For now. For this moment. For this brief interlude in between towns when he discovered all there was and planned to move on to the next. The next people. He wouldn’t find another you, however.

He picked you up effortlessly, scooting you back on his thighs so that he could free himself. He groaned as his dick was released from his jeans, pressure finally eased. You leaned over to the end table, grabbing a discreet foil package.

He’d been here an entire week and he’d fucked you every single day. Never without a condom. He wished to feel you completely. To soak his dick with your slick. Your essence. The very heart of you. He wanted it. And that was exactly why he couldn’t.

If you were an old blues record, you were one of the rare, more optimistic ones. The ones that hurt his heart and made him think at the same time. You sounded like forever in every ring around the record, the delicate scratch of the needle. You needed someone to handle you with care. With love. To play you every Sunday right as the sun went down, fresh glass of lemonade beside. To protect, to hold.

And that was why he never forgot the condom. Neither did you. You handed it to him and he opened it, rolling it on, and he used his fingers to gauge how wet you were.

Fuck, you were dripping. He groaned and went back to kissing your chest. Working his way up to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, kissing you fully on the lips. Heat washed over him, a burning fire under his ass to get inside you as quickly as possible.

He played with your clit as he lined himself up, sinking you down on his dick. “Unf, fuck,” he moaned. You didn’t even grimace or cry out that time. A week was all it took for you to get acclimated to his size.

“You’re killing me,” he said.

You giggled, pressing kisses into his face. He fucking loved it. Your hands went around his neck, starting to lift up and down onto his dick.

Your breathing was shaky but you persisted, lifting all the way off of him and then sinking right back down. You groaned as he seemed to hit some kind of spot inside of you, rubbing his thick mushroom head along your inner walls.

“Shit, fuck me, Reacher. Fuck me, please,” you begged.

Reacher hooked his hands under your thighs and sped up, fucking you onto his dick with a little more speed. You cried, soaking his dick. He could feel it, but he couldn’t really feel it.

“Oh shit, right there. Right there, Reacher, right there,” you whimpered.

He listened. He kept the same pace, the same thrust, spearing you on his massive dick. “Let me hear you,” he said.

You cried harder, whimpered longer, moaned in a tinny voice that sent more lightning strikes to his dick. He seemed to swell just hearing how needy you were. Felt how wet you were for him. He pretended that it was only for him. That you would only ever get this wet for him. To bless him with this side of you. This unregulated, wholesome, completely authentic part of you.

“Louder, louder,” he said, panting, thrusting up to meet you bouncing on his dick. You felt amazing. Perfect. So perfect.

Your cries got louder, moaning battling the music still crooning in the late afternoon. Your living room was small but it suited you. Everything about the space was warm and comforting. Even the couch. He sank pleasantly into it, firm enough to meet your sopping wet pussy.

Your titties bounced in his face. He watched your pert brown nipples dangling like sweet berries in front of his face. He resisted the urge to suck on them again, instead looking up at you.

Your mouth was open, tongue peeking out. Your eyes were low, spaced out, and the most beautiful sight of all. Better than any piece of artwork. Any genius masterpiece. Your nails dug into his shoulders. He barely felt it.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to not feel pain, but he was a big guy. He could take a punch and he could certainly take the way you gripped onto him for dear life. “Oh, Reacher, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, diving down for a kiss.

“Let me feel it,” he said, looking into your eyes.

You tightened your hold, gritted your teeth before your jaw went slack and you shook on his dick. He kept bouncing you, felt how your pussy tightened and pulsed on his dick. He moaned, wanting to keep looking at you but also wanting to let the sensation take over.

Sensation won out as he dropped his head back against the couch cushion, smacking your ass as you moaned from your orgasm. He was close. Now that you came, he could take it a step further. Slide in deeper. Bounce you quicker.

His balls tightened as he finally climaxed, hot sperm shooting into the condom. He moaned, grabbing onto your ass for an anchor point. He grunted as he finished, looking down at where you were connected.

Your skin was slick with sweat, chest heaving with breaths. He grinned at you, couldn’t help wanting to make you smile. He was going to hate himself when he had to make you sad.

“I think I’m gonna stay one more night,” he said, bringing you into a kiss. He licked your lips and you gasped and he slipped his tongue inside, needing to taste more. Do more.

“Okay, but only one more,” you said, against his lips. You got an evil glint in your eye and he wondered if you weren’t up to something devious tonight. He couldn’t wait to find out.

There will be more! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui

@we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kiwi-jelly-mochi

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Jack Reacher Files #Jack Reacher x Black!reader #Jack Reacher x Black reader #Jack Reacher x Fem!reader #Jack Reacher x Fem reader #Jack Reacher x plus size reader #x Black reader #x Fem reader #x plus size reader #Jack Reacher fanfic #Jack Reacher fan fic #Jack Reacher fan fiction #Jack Reacher fanfiction #Alan Ritchson #Reacher fanfic #Reacher fan fic #Reacher fanfiction #Reader fan fiction

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il-miele-che-scrive · 8 months ago

Text

the one where Carlos is spotted at a certain singer's concert

y/nofficial Gracias por la noche maravillosa, España❤️‍🔥Te quiero mucho

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username1 Te amamos, Y/n ❤️❤️

username2 Estoy enamorada de ti 😍

username3 But can any of you tell me what was Carlos Sainz doing at the concert? 🤔

↳username4 Who? Is he like famous or something?

username3 GIRL-

username3 He's a Formula One driver... And currently single may I add

↳username5 I mean it's not like it's a secret that Y/n and Carlos know each other

username3 Wait, really? How do I find out about that just now?

username5 Y/n and Lando are in the same friend group literally, last winter break there were gossips going around about Lando dating Lily, Magui, Y/n, but they're all just one big friend group. Long story short Lando dragged Carlos to Y/n's concert

username3 How did I not hear about this 😭

username5 Well, maybe you just aren't on Tiktok, I hardly ever see people talk about this stuff outside of Tiktok

username3 That would explain a lot

username5 Yeah and they aren't very flashy with their friendship anyway, Y/n would sometimes appear in Romeo's post or be seen hanging out with Lando and Max but that's it

username3 Damn, to be a rich kid

landonorris we all know who that heart is for...

↳y/nofficial For the Spanish, obviously

landonorris for the spanish certainly

username5 Lando pls go be a menace somewhere else

username3 For the SPANISH?

username4 The concert was in Spain lol in case you can't read yet

username3 Yeah but you know who's Spanish? Carlos Sainz, that's right

username6 So Lando and Carlos went to that concert?

↳username7 It seems so, they were both seen there

↳username8 Someone said Lando DRAGGED Carlos there and I'm willing to believe it 😂

username9 I remember that live where Lando was unhinged and said Y/n is Carlos' celebrity crush 🤣 I don't think that's a coincidence

↳username10 The devil works hard but Lando Norris works harder

carlossainz55 Hermosa❤️ *this comment was deleted*

username11 WE SAW THAT, CARLITO 📸

↳username8 Saw what? 👀

username11 He commented "hermosa" but deleted it already 🤭

username10 Bro forgot to switch to his fangirl account😭

y/nofficial Don't worry, going back on tour soon, had to take a little break to enjoy time with my new boyfriend whom I love very much

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landonorris that's not quite what soft launching means

↳y/nofficial What do you mean? Can you see his face? Can you tell who he is? Exactly. So it's soft launching

landonorris I know EXACTLY who it is

username1 Don't be shy Lando, tell us, we can keep a secret...

username2 Betting my right hand that it's Sainz

↳username3 Prepare to lose a hand lol

username2 Why? It's clearly him

username3 Doesn't he have a race like tomorrow?

username2 Nope, it's summer break

username4 IT'S SUMMER BREAK AND HE'S SPENDING IT WITH HIS NEW GF Y/N🥰🥰

francisca.cgomes You're glowing lately ✨🩷

↳y/nofficial Oh, that's just the boyfriend effect 👹

username5 LMAO I LOVE HER

username6 i'm on my knees 🧎🧎🧎

↳username1 Lmaooo is that Carlos' fangirl account?

username3 Does he have one?

username1 I don't know, I'm joking, but if he did actually have an account like this, I can see him commenting this kinda stuff

username7 ngl guys I don't like her vibe, she has bad, dirty energy

↳username2 Stfu it's not like you ever had a chance with Carlos

↳username8 She has a bad vibe, because...? Because she took your man? Now your chances with him went even lower than 0?

username9 I get what people mean, she barely ever smiles, looks so grumpy on all photos

↳username1 I once had a chance to meet Y/n, she's actually a sweet angel!!

↳username3 She's just the normal black cat gf (and Carlos is the golden retriever boyfriend🥰)

↳username10 Trust me, she's that kind of person who seems angry/upset all the time, but when you approach them they're the nicest person you could ever talk to

username11 It's called a resting bitch face, I also have that 😭

username10 Same!!! People keep asking if I'm alright, but that's just the way my face looks lol

username12 Carlos bagged a baddie, I hope they never break up

↳username3 Never break up? Firstky they gotta make it official cuz for now we don't even know if that's Carlos

romeobeckham you're in love, we got it 🤮

↳landonorris yeah, she doesn't have to be so flashy about it, right?

romeobeckham literally

romeobeckham she never posts us, but the moment she gets a boyfriend everyone needs to know

landonorris did you see how on the previous post people were surprised we're friends?

romeobeckham maybe they wouldn't be if @/y/nofficial ever posted us

y/nofficial How about no? ❤️

landonorris you owe us

romeobeckham and you better pay up y/n

y/nofficial Chill out guys 😭 I'm getting us all out for dinner, how about that?

landonorris deal 🤝

romeobeckham i guess 🙄

username13 She owes them for what? 😏

↳username14 Probably for hooking her up with Carlos lol I wish it was a joke

carlossainz55 Cooking up love and filling our hearts up with songs that speak to our souls. Te amo, mi vida

view all comments

y/nofficial Te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar❤️‍🔥

↳carlossainz55 I think they can, I really like the latest release

username1 I KNEW THE NEWEST SONG WAS ABOUT CARLOS I KNEW IT

username2 "In a world full of noise you've become my favorite song" 😭😭 of course it was about Carlos

username3 New parents alert and I love them

↳username2 I just hope they will never divorce like my real parents did

landonorris congrats or something for finally having the balls to announce it

↳y/nofficial Shut up or you're banned from the dinner

landonorris you can't ban me, if not for me you and Carlos wouldn't be together

↳carlossainz55 You should find a girlfriend too sometime

landonorris you told me the same thing a few years ago and it didn't work out, I guess I won't be taking any more love advice from you

username4 THE THIRD PIC I LOVE IT

↳y/nofficial The ribbon makes him so babygirl🩷🎀

username7 If she's usually the black cat, someone has to be the babygirl in this relationship

username5 I want a simp boyfriend in mi vida

username6 She made him a playlist 🥺 I wonder if it's her songs or love songs in general

↳y/nofficial There's some Adele, some Taylor Swift, some Shakira, just a bunch of romantic songs🫶

username7 Noooo I imagine them dancing to all these love songs while cooking and my single heart cries 😭 so happy for them, but I also what this kind of romance for myself

francisca.cgomes Can't wait to see Y/n in the paddock

↳y/nofficial Back at you!!

francisca.cgomes Matching outfits. What do you say?

y/nofficial I SAY LET'S DO IT

↳username8 They're about to become my favorite wag duo

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #Carlos Sainz x reader #Carlos Sainz fanfic #Carlos Sainz imagine #Carlos Sainz smau #Carlos Sainz Social media au

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sadnightforus · 1 year ago

Text

THE FATED STARS (PJS)

SYNOPSIS: Park Jongseong harbors the biggest crush on one of the most popular girls on the campus, you. You, being dared by your friend group to tweet and made a boyfriend application, initially started out as a joke, thinking that no one would applied it. Upon the tweet going viral and many applications being sent in, he decided that he would shoot his shot, even if he doesn’t know a single shit about what is the sun, moon, rising in astronomy.

GENRES: slice of life, romance, comedy

PAIRING: secret-admirer!jay x f!reader

STARRING: xdinary heroes’ gaon and jooyeon, aespa’s ningning and karina, itzy’s yeji, le sserafim’s kazuha, the whole enhypen.

WARNINGS: a lot of actual unhinged things going on, author is a bit too obsessed with astrology so you’re now forced to learn about it, cussing, some lame sexual jokes (I promised it’s lame), they all tell each other to give up and kts, reader is not jlo’s biggest fan because she’s a mariah carey’s fan. the whole band is so broke for some reason.

A/N: SURPRISEDDDD…. tried my hands on writing smau because too much angst kills me. I hope you guys enjoy it and if you want to be in the taglist, comment on this one.

STATUS: ON-GOING

FORMAT: SOCIAL MEDIA AU

UPDATED: EVERY TUESDAY-WEDNESDAY-THURSDAY

RELEASED DATE: 08 NOVEMBER 2023

END DATE: UNKNOWN.

ASTEROIDS

✭ INTRODUCTION/PROFILES

VICTIMS OF CAPITALISM | 7 DUCKLINGS

✭ MOST POPULAR ASTEROIDS

(001) - BOYFRIEND APPLICATION

(002) - FORM FILLED

(003) - PERSONAL OPINIONS & FAVORS

(UNCUT 003) - FIRST IMPRESSION MATTERS

(004) - CHART ANALYSIS

(005) - MEET UP (+ written)

(006) - SHE HATES ME

(UNCUT 006) - REPLY IF I SHOULD…

(007) - THOUGHTS ON ZODIAC SIGNS?

(008) - BANNED ON KAKAOTALK

(009) - KURT COBAIN’S FANSIGN

(UNCUT 009) - USERNAME CHANGES

(010) - LOSING TO IDGAF WAR

(011) - GOOD THINGS ARE COMING SOON

(012) - THE RECORD STORE HANGOUT (+ written)

(013) - TUMBLR GIRL ERA (SELF SABOTAGE)

(014.01) - BABY

(014.02) - BABY

(015) - SORRY (BUT I’LL DO IT AGAIN) (+ written)

(UNCUT 015) - THE IDOL, THE FAN

(016) - CONCERT ANNOUNCEMENT

(017) - PICKUP LINES TO USE FOR CONCERT GOERS

(018) - CONCERT'S PARADISE (+ written)

(019) - SYNASTRY AND THE SIGNS

(020) - THE COFFEE KISS (+ written)

(021) - ACCEPTING MY FATE

(022) - JEALOUSY? (+ written)

(UNCUT 022) - WHAT TYPE OF LOVER ARE YOU QUIZ

(023) - STEP UP MY GAME

(024) - THE DAY THAT YOU'RE FINALLY MINE (+ written)

(025) - I LET YOU INTO THE DARK SIDE

(UNCUT 025) - FREE CHART READING

(026) - AWKWARD ROMEO AND JUILET

(027) - COUPLE ANNOUNCEMENT

EPILOGUE 001 - TRUST FUND BABY

EPILOGUE 002 - GETTING A GIRLFRIEND IS EASY...

#kpop au #kpop fanfic #enha smau #jay park smau #enhypen smau #jay park x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #enha timestamps #enha au #jongseong x reader #jay smau #park jongseong smau #enhypen social media au #xdinary heroes au #aespa au #itzy au #le sserafim au

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syrikif · 1 year ago

Text

Gamer Etiquette

Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader

Genre: SMAU + Written, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU

Content Warnings: Sexual jokes/content, mention of death threats, mature language

Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.

But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.

Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.

Created: October 6, 2023 Completed: (Ongoing) Update Schedule: I’m currently in the process of moving so just whenever I can :)

Masterlist:

Important Profiles: Y/N's Group Kenma's Group Prologue: Daddy Kink Cat Distribution System Chapter 1: Thirst Trap Hospital Food Chapter 2: Bedwars 🖊 Boredom 🖊 Chapter 3: Trending One Game Chapter 4: Calm Guilt 🖊 Chapter 5: Unhinged One in a Million Chapter 6: Cuddle Buddies 🖊 Casual Chapter 7: Rating The Cat Girl Chapter 8: A Dozen Men Little Things 🖊 Chapter 9: Scaredy Kitten Disappearing Act Chapter 10: Chapter 11: tbc . . .

Author's Notes:

Hey guys! This is my first post on Tumblr and the first SMAU I've ever written. Which, kudos to everyone else who makes SMAU's because they are a lot of work.

Just some basic info before you begin reading:

Y/N uses she/her pronouns and is feminine presenting.

Every chapter will have two parts, one part from Y/N's point of view and one part from Kenma's; the order will differ depending on the chapter.

Every update will be a double post so make sure you know you’re reading the correct one first, and reading both of them.

Time stamps don't really matter unless explicitly written by me so you can just ignore them :)

There will be both written and social media elements; written parts will be marked with a pen (🖊).

And I'm gonna be honest, while I love the anime I haven't actually watched it in a long time and I was never able to finish season three. That being said, if anything I write seems out of character for anyone just bear with me I'm trying my best lol.

Please feel free to give me any feedback and/or criticism to help me improve. And if any of the links aren't working just let me know and I'll try to get it fixed ASAP.

If you have any questions, don't feel too shy and reach out if possible; I promise I'll answer to the best of my ability.

(Also, just comment if you'd like to be on the taglist.)

Hope you enjoy the story :)

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arcanarix · 3 months ago

Text

Fated Divergence, Ch. 5 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling

AO3 (+prev. chapter)

cw // shower sex, anal sex, cunnilingus, vibrators, in general geto being unhinged ;D

Word Count: around 4.4K

“Is that the last of them?”

Satoru’s head jerked to Maki, the one who asked the question and who exorcised some second grade curses within the secluded area. He scanned the environment, not catching any more surges of activity.

For now.

“I think that’s all we got,” he replied, signaling Inumaki and Panda to come forward. “We can wrap this up and I can take you guys back home.”

Maki, Panda, and Inumaki exchanged glances before looking up at Satoru with hopeful looks in their eyes. Ah, Satoru knew those looks, and he wasn’t about to deny them whatever they were about to ask—within reason, of course, and for someone like Satoru? Nearly everything was ‘within reason’ for him to make happen.

“Why don’t we stay and enjoy New York for a bit?” Maki inquired, adjusting her glasses. “We have some time, you know.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki stated.

Satoru still didn’t know what any of those ingredients translated to…

“Fine, fine,” he waved them off. “Might give me some time to do a little light reading, then, while you’re off exploring. But our flight’s in two days. So it’s best we regroup tomorrow and pack and all that.”

Maki glanced at the book stuffed in Satoru’s tote.

“The Ethics of Ambiguity? That’s a feminist text,” she recognized with a perk of an eyebrow. “I didn’t even think you would be into that kind of thing, Sensei.”

“Or that you even read,” Panda pointed out in jest, which provoked a snort from Maki.

Gojo paused, ignoring Panda’s comment and glancing down at his tote. “Aw, that. Yeah, uh, someone I rescued not too long ago lent me that book. Why, what’s the topic?”

“Existential philosophy,” she explained. “Discusses some stuff about how human existence itself is ambiguous and how humanity is both free and bound by their circumstances.”

Gojo gave her a blank stare.

“Ah,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “Was always more of a ‘do before you think’ kind of guy…”

Maki bit back a groan, irritation etched on her face.

“That flew right over your head, didn’t it?”

“Absolutely, it did,” Gojo laughed, adjusting his posture.

Maki groaned, clutching her head. “And how are you a Sensei?”

Gojo’s laugh rang like bells, while he rested a hand on her head, and patting her hair. Maki shot him a glare, unaware of the nervous tick because Gojo seemed to be lost in thought of you—nothing the students knew about just yet.

“Why don’t you guys go and have fun? Try some American cuisine and grab some souvenirs! I have some things I need to take care of right now.”

As the team dispersed, Satoru whipped out his phone and opened your text thread.

No responses. Usually you weren’t bad about replying (yet another refreshing thing about you), but he didn’t hear from you for a few days…

A bad feeling began to pool in his gut, but he had to put it aside for now. He took a moment to ground himself, to focus on what was in front of him and not on why you weren’t responding even if it, likely, Geto was the culprit. He glanced once again at the book you gave him in his tote, and then eyed some nearby cafes, and decided where he would do that ‘light reading’ he promised himself he would do.

After all, this might provide some insight into how you thought.

Once he ordered himself a matcha (too sweet, even for his tastes…did Americans really consume that much sugar?), he flipped to the first page of the book, hoping to get some kind of insight on your philosophies regarding your life.

In a peculiar way, it brought him closer to you.

-- --- --- --- --- ---

“Wake up, my love.”

As you blinked the weariness from your eyes, the scent of home-cooked fluffy pancakes and other assortments of breakfast foods flooded your senses. Instinctively your mouth watered, desperate for food; you hadn’t realized how starved you were because of how frightened you had been.

“Ah! There she is,” Suguru greeted with a little smirk as he presented to you a large tray of your breakfast. “I had this made special.”

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, swiping the bowl of hash browns seasoned to perfection and mixed with egg whites and freshly harvested vegetables.

“You’ll need your strength,” he responded, as he sat across from you, his gaze fixated on you. “I have much planned for us both.”

You disregarded his words and his presence for the moment, scarfing down as much food as you could in one sitting. You requested time to freshen up for the morning, and he graciously offered to unshackle you under the conditions that you wouldn’t run off.

“Not that you could,” Geto then added as he escorted you to the nearest restroom, a follower of his offering you the necessary toiletries. “Every floor and every exit are heavily guarded.”

Of course, you thought, your mind steeped in sarcasm. I would be stupid to try, knowing what he was capable of…what he wasn’t afraid to do.

“Geto!” called one of the twins, Nanako, as you focused on the mundane task of brushing your teeth, determined to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the madness which surrounded you.

Even the term ‘madness’ put the situation in lighter terms…

“Ah, good morning, girls,” Geto greeted as he stood outside the restroom door, waiting for you to finish freshening up. Nanako and Mimiko ran up to hug him, and you would have smiled at the sight if not for everything.

“She’s here!” Mimiko pointed out with a wide grin, waving excitedly. You waved back when you caught her reflection through the mirror.

“Suguru, I will need some privacy,” you requested in a honeyed sweet tone. “I need a shower, and perhaps a change of clothes?”

Geto narrowed his eyes, before glancing down at the twins. “Could one of you bring her a robe and a change of clothes? Oh, and perhaps those shower steamers you two have begun to use. It might calm her nerves from being here a bit.”

Fucking. Asshole.

As Nanako and Mimiko ran off to fetch your things, Geto approached you in the restroom, closing the door behind him with a deliberate motion.

A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed.

“You won’t find respite from me so easily,” he warned. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? I’ve seen you already at your most vulnerable.”

Before you could retort, moments later, Mimiko knocked on the door and delivered your necessities. Geto thanked her and dismissed the twins.

You froze, breath caught in your throat as he placed them inside for you. You noticed—your preferred shampoo, conditioner, bar soap, body wash. Even the very face exfoliator you used, a gua sha tool, an African net sponge…

Things he shouldn’t know about you, but somehow, he did…? Should this really surprise you anymore?

And those shower steamers. Lavender and eucalyptus. Perfect scents for calming anxiety and nerves…

“Suguru,” you began, ignoring the tremor in your voice when you addressed him. “There’s nowhere for me to go; you don’t have to stand guard while I shower.”

“Oh, but I must,” he insisted, hand over his heart in mock sincerity. “After all, what kind of partner would I be to you if I’m not here to make sure you’re safe?”

You said nothing as you stepped into the shower, waiting for the water to preheat…

And you heard the wisp of some clothing falling to the ground. You stilled.

Of course he’d be joining you.

You said nothing as he slipped inside behind you, shutting the shower door. You said nothing as he brought you in close, wincing as his hardness pressed against your thigh.

“A Queen need not undertake these tasks on her own.”

“But I can do these things myself,” you countered, tone firm and full of conviction, which Suguru laughed at in a mocking way, as if your actions possessed little consequence.

Which was likely the truth.

It likely didn’t matter anymore, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t damn well try to gain some independence in this situation.

“I know,” he interjected, a curious tone of affection in his voice—likely because he finally had you right where he wanted you, all of this time, at long last. “But I want to take care of you.”

You chose not to pursue the matter any further, as Geto emulsified the shampoo in his hands and worked it into your hair. You ignored his words when he complimented how soft it was, and how it made your stomach churn once more. He kept it thorough, doing a second pass before moving onto conditioner. He even memorized your self-care routine practically down to an art. You snuck a few glances, and his expression…the softness in his violet eyes, how his face relaxed around you…like he seemed honored to do this for you, like he revered you as his Queen ruling by his side, like he saw you as, you couldn’t believe it, family.

But you knew better. You weren’t any Queen. Not truly. Just his prisoner. His pretty little pet. Someone to keep secured around his arms as an accessory while he condemned humans to a cruel fate.

You were someone who couldn’t fight him back, which probably gave him the most pay-off in whatever this grand scheme of his might be. You still weren’t sure what he went on about, about jujutsu sorcerers, about calling ‘humans’ or ‘non-sorcerers’ monkeys. To anyone with a modicum of logic, this man just sounded like he belonged to an asylum or under a strict conservatorship… but if there truly was some truth to whatever spiritual whoo whoo shit he’d been spewing, then did that mean Gojo’d been lying through his teeth about what he truly did for a living as well?

Soon Geto moved onto rinse you off of all of that grime, your senses flooded with a hint of vanilla from the body wash. He paused, taking a moment to admire the curve of your ass and giving a gentle squeeze to the flesh, eliciting a shocked yelp out of you. His chuckle in approval grated on your nerves.

“You are beautiful,” he purred, kissing heatedly into your neck. As he finished taking care of washing himself, he returned his attention on you, pressing your back into the marble walls of the shower and pinning you with his hands on either side of your head, as he peppered open-mouth kisses along your jaw. Gentle, loving…like a real partner.

Disgust gnawed at your chest at the mere idea—the notion itself, repulsive.

As much as you loathed to admit it, the shower steamers were great to relieve the tension you knew you were holding far too tightly given your circumstances. You focused on your breathing and not so much on who tended to you, gentle and tender like a genuine lover.

One of his fingers drew light patterns along the swells of your breasts, and your breath hitched.

“Oh, hit a nerve, didn’t I?” he taunted, tone drenched and heavy in mockery, much akin to the steam that now fogged the air between the two of you. “Is this where you’re weak?”

“Don’t,” you pleaded, daring to meet his piercing eyes with your timid ones.

He flicked a finger against one of your stiff peaks, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips against your will, gritting your teeth from the sensation.

He called your name, in a voice that was almost a soft, affectionate purr.

“When was the last time a man properly touched you?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question at all, words caught in your throat, and from the bottom of your heart, you didn’t want to answer him.

He frowned, his forehead creasing, frustration mounting by the minute as he pinched your nipple once again.

“I still want an answer,” he pressed with his tone laden in condescension.

“Not since…” you trailed off, your voice faltering as you choked on a sob, his both his hands grasped your breasts, groaning at the softness and suppleness of your skin against his calloused hands. You could even feel his fingertips had pruned up from how long you’d been in the shower already.

“Not since college,” you rasped out. Geto tutted at that new tidbit of information, even seemed shocked that a beautiful thing like you didn’t get laid on the regular. Or maybe it pleased him to know that you were pickier with your lovers, whoever you chose to give a little piece of yourself away.

“Did the man have any skill, or was he as inept as the rest of those monkeys?”

Did he expect you to answer that?

He addressed your name once again, growing impatient by the nanosecond.

“No,” you answered, in your most earnest way. “It…sucked.”

Geto clicked his tongue, like he pitied your lack of true connection between bodies. “How expected. You do need a proper lover. Tell me, did I meet your expectations that night?”

You stood frozen, peering up with him with beady eyes, but his resolve didn’t appear to crumble any time soon.

“That night…shouldn’t have happened. It was only because you could stop the streak of bad luck I had,” you recalled, your mind flashing to that night when he stole you. You wished you had alternatives, but what did you know about the world Geto kept spewing about?

He conceded to that with a hum, and with something else…a hint of something you missed yourself, but you didn’t care to make a remark.

“But you enjoyed yourself as much as I did,” he declared with certainty that made your blood boil, bony hands sliding down waist and resting at your hips, where he gripped tight. “I could tell you did. It is better if you admit it to yourself. I want it to be good for us both, my love.”

A hand ventured to your most intimate region, and you feared the worst, squeezing your eyes shut as his finger flicked along your slick folds before prying them apart, another finger grazing your clit. Another sharp gasp escaped your lips, and he sighed in glee, pleased to see you give into his ministrations.

He paused for a few moments too long, and you willed yourself not to look. Not that you could. He turned you around to face the wall, prying your legs apart as he rubbed his erect cock between your cheeks, stopping at the tight ring of your—

“—No!” you wept, scratching along the tiles to no avail. He trapped you in place, the tip of his cock catching into the tight ring of muscle.

He growled your name in a disapproving way.

“Relax into it,” he demanded, inching more of his length inside of your ass, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades. “Breathe, love, breathe. Let this be good for us both.”

You sobbed, his body pressing into you as each buck of his hips became sharper, more precise, his length and girth rubbing your walls in the right way which felt like the worst punishment…

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his forehead on the crook of your neck as he resumed a harsh pace. “You’re made to take my cock. Feel how your ass just sucks me in each time. I don’t even have to try.”

“Please,” you practically wailed like a warning siren, begging, not knowing why you were begging because he would take what he desired from you no matter what. “Suguru—!”

Despite the shame pooling in your stomach, you came, clenching tight around his cock and wincing as he continued to fuck into you until the shock subsided.

“There will be more to come,” he vowed as he pulled himself out. He allowed the two of you to stand in the shower for a few moments longer to wash away the residue of your shared fun time, before he escorted you out, dried himself and yourself off, and dressed you both in robes.

You admired the softness of the robe he chose for you, at the very least. Despite your body still trembling, he led you out of the restroom and back to your chamber, which you had come to find out was the basement of the temple, and just across your prison appeared to be his bedroom.

“It doesn’t seem right to let you remain in this room,” he uttered, eyes fixed on you. “Provided you behave, of course, you can stay in my bedroom.”

You nodded, your face blanched from disgust, as your fingers dug into the fabric of your robe, seeking some kind of solace.

“Now, now,” he then tutted as he approached you, drawing you in close. “We can’t have any of that. Not when our new lives together are just beginning.”

“Geto!” Nanako interrupted the moment once more, and you swallowed any feelings of despair in that moment.

Appear normal for the girls.

“Can she come play Mario Kart with us? We need another player, and you never like playing video games!”

Geto chuckled as he kept you close, tightening his grip around your waist.

“She may need some time to adjust, Nanako.” He tried to let her down gently—in other words, he tried to make it so he didn’t intend on sharing your attention with anyone else, even his girls. “We can have a family game night later in the week, perhaps. Once she’s gotten used to us, don’t you think?”

Nanako pouted and folded her arms over her chest. “Come on, Geto! We want to get to know our new mom!”

You gawked at him. A mother? You? Hardly—you didn’t have the mother gene in you, or so you convinced yourself that. Plus you were far too wrapped up in a profession which hardly paid you enough to run a family.

You never even met the right partner, and Geto certainly wasn’t the proper fit.

“Nanako!” he chastised, his tone stern. “She needs time. Let us have time for ourselves, and then she can play those rotten video games with you, alright? Look at her. Does she look ready to adjust to this new life with us?”

Nanako glanced at you, and then back at Geto, shaking her head.

“Smart girl,” he commented. “Perhaps you can get one of my assistants to be your final player for now.”

Nanako deflated, clearly disappointed. “Alright…”

She exited the room. Your prison.

“I’m sorry.” It didn’t take a genius to know he definitely didn’t seem sorry in the slightest. “Let me take you to my room, just this way. You can rest there, and hopefully not be interrupted by my rambunctious twins again.”

Had you not known the kind of man he was, his sentiments toward his girls would have warmed your stone cold heart.

He led you to his bed. King-sized, plush, like feathers as he rested you on your back. He snuggled close to you, nuzzling his nose into his neck and inhaling that fresh scent of vanilla bean and caramel, letting out a sigh in content.

“This is your home now, so treat it as your home,” he stated, hugging you even more inhumanely close. “I want you to be happy with us. Nanako and Mimiko already adore you.”

You remained silent, eyes diverted to the ceiling as your mind swam with thoughts—could you get out of here? Would Gojo know immediately if something had happened? How could this happen so quickly?

“Do speak to me,” he murmured into your ear before kissing it. “It’ll make things easier for you.”

“Please don’t insult me,” you sneered. “You want me to be a mother to your girls.”

“That’s…part of it, yes,” he acknowledged with a hum. “They need one. Someone strong, someone spirited, someone…human.”

“What became of their biological family?” you dared to ask.

“Dead,” came his simple answer.

You arched an eyebrow.

“By your hands?”

“…No, not quite. Those monkeys killed their parents, and they intended to kill them as well, when they were just children,” he replied, tone laden in bitterness as he recalled the memory. “So I did what I had to do and cursed that village. Filthy monkeys who don’t understand what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer, to be sworn to protect the filth, rather than eradicate it, burn it to ashes…it’s asinine, truly.”

This bullshit about jujutsu sorcery is what’s asinine, you thought, as another moment of clarity came through that Geto admitted he committed genocides in the name of his cause, whatever it was. Geto truly is a dangerous man.

“You keep bringing that up,” you pointed out. “Jujutsu sorcery. What is that? Is that what you do? Is that how you can…see things?”

He nodded, expression grim. “You will learn everything you need to, in due time. I’m surprised Satoru hasn’t informed you of anything, but then again, the organization is sworn to secrecy. Humans are simple creatures…unevolved creatures, you see. They don’t like knowing that there is something out there more powerful than them. They condemn anything they don’t agree with, just like they condemned me, condemned the twins, and others like us.” He looked away. “If only Satoru agreed with my vision, then maybe we would still be as close as we once were. What a shame.”

So…Gojo hasn’t been wholly truthful about what he did, then?

You knew that you weren’t sure how to respond to that.

“Gojo told me nothing about these things,” you conceded, “So I guess I will have to hear the truth from you.”

“In due time,” he vowed with a low purr, as he slid down until he reached between your thighs, spreading them apart.

You winced. “Suguru, please, I…!”

He shushed you as he kissed along either side of your thighs, until he stopped at your cunt, blocked by your fresh new underwear. He pulled it aside, revealing your dripping folds.

“I want to revisit that night,” he asserted, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin. “When I made you come three times. You sounded wonderful. Maybe I can do more than that. Show you how a man should touch you especially if your previous encounters were as disappointing as you claimed.”

He nipped on the skin closest to your pussy.

“You are so perfect for me.”

Geto closed his mouth over your cunt and you couldn’t even react.

He sucked hard on your clit, tongue darting out and licking along and between your folds.

“Suguru—!”

Your hand reached to clutch the crown of his head. He moaned, lewd and like he starved for you.

He coaxed one.

He focused his attention on your clit, tongue twirling around the little bud, making you see stars. You hated this so much, yet he made it feel good, like he wanted your pleasure as much as his.

“Come for me,” he commanded.

He coaxed another.

“Delicious,” he moaned, tongue fucking inside you, and your back arched, fingers digging into the velvety bedsheets. “Come for me, again.”

Like clockwork, you did.

He withdrew his tongue for a brief moment.

“Submission is a beautiful look on someone so full of spirit.”

“Suguru…please, I don’t…”

He shushed you again.

“We should take things up a notch, hm?” he pondered over the options. “Perhaps I should insert a dildo while I fuck you senseless, or maybe…”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head vehemently.

“No, no, no, please!”

He growled your name.

“None of that,” he reprimanded with a dangerous frown. “We can make a choice. It’s not as if you’re inexperienced. Do you prefer those vibrators you keep in your sock drawer?”

“How did—?”

His lips curled into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, I’ve seen everything. And I want to watch.”

“Why—?”

“Because you’re so beautiful when you please yourself,” he sighed dreamily, “It’s such a wonderful sight—like that one night where you kept humping your pillow for some release. Did you wish that was someone else?”

You swallowed a dry wad of nothing. You did. Of course you did. You wished it was Gojo.

“I believe I even heard you call his name…”

Your lips quivered. “Suguru…”

He waved you off.

“No, no, it certainly wasn’t my name you called those nights, which broke my heart.”

His lips formed a thin line before he spat into your oversensitive pussy.

“It does always end up having everything to do with Satoru, doesn’t it? That selfish bastard, can’t even let me have this one thing…”

For a few moments, he completely pulled back, leaving you in a state of suspense and admiring your quivering form from the intensity of his touch. For a while he just stood there, his eyes raking you head to toe with a mix of satisfaction and something darker…triumph, perhaps, but also a hint of something softer? Geto’s thought process, you have come to realize a while ago, didn't make a lick of sense, so you didn't try to make sense of his madness anymore. Finally the sound of him shuffling to retrieve the necessary supplies broke the tense silence, not just the sound of your ragged breathing, trying to ground yourself for what was to come.

He returned to the bed, a vibrator in his hand that he switched on…of course, the very kind you preferred to use.

He had you down to an art, resting the vibrator to your pussy, at first, at a low, comfortable setting. Not too fast, not too strong. You liked the buildup, and he knew all that well.

He ran his tongue past his lips.

“What do you wish Satoru did when you think about him?”

You whimpered.

He amped up the setting.

“Do you think he’d be a more appropriate lover than me?”

He angled your vibrator the way you liked, and you moaned.

“Do you think he’d know how to take you apart? To make you squirm?”

Two fingers pressed on your clit. You mewled.

“You dare to utter his name instead of mine—!”

“Suguru—please! Too much! It’s too much, I can’t—!”

Your arousal splattered on the toy, his wrist, and a bit on his chin.

“You will never wish it was Satoru doing these things to you ever again. If I even get an inkling you are thinking of him, I’ll punish you. So promise me.”

You didn’t respond, only focused on calming your breathing. Ragged. Labored.

Your heartbeat raced.

He snarled your name, grasping your jaw and locking his eyes with yours.

“Promise me,” he repeated.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered. “I promise.”

His lips curled into a sinister, satisfied smirk, pressing a kiss to your thigh.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere blog #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #erixtales

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faithst · 1 year ago

Text

LIVESTREAMS WITH ZB1

pairing zb1 x idol!reader

genre mostly comedy, maybe fluff ? reader is in zb1 🤝

warnings mentions of food/drinks in hao and hanbin’s

notes hi anon, thank you for requesting ! i didn’t want this to be romantic as idol life is,, something.. but still, i hope you enjoy this ! 🫶

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

you’re playing drinking games

and before you ask, no. it’s not actual alcohol

you mix up the most unhinged drink combinations

like soy milk + tea + mountain dew 😃

the drink literally has particles in it

you play the ‘of course’ game and it turns ugly real quick

“you know that i’m better than you at everything, right?” zhanghao says, feeling proud

“of course! zhanghao.. you know that hanbin loves me more, right?” a smirk tugging on your lips that zhanghao so desperately wanted to slap off

loses the game because of that and has to chug down every drop (he’s ok tho i think)

“you’re lucky we’re live right now.”

— sung hanbin

since he was a barista, you guys are making drinks

he teaches you some tips and tricks but it’s more complicated than you think

his drink is so much more visually pleasing than yours although you both followed the same steps 😭

like pretty gradient colors that blend well together

but it’s expected cuz he’s a professional

you do a taste test

and his drink tastes like heaven 👍

you offered yours to him and he tries it

ngl, you were nervous about his opinion

“uh, it’s definitely a new experience.”

— seok matthew

some kind of crafts live

where you both are making those bead bracelets

you make ones for eachother and also the other members !

and matthew is all like ‘oh, you’re gonna love what i made for you’

he’s so proud of his creations

and at some point he accidentally spills every bead onto the table 😭

and you both take a look at eachother like 😐

and it becomes quiet for a whole 5 minutes as he picks everything back up

after that, you both continue making bracelets for the other members 🫶

“jiwoon hyung likes this color, i know him better than you!”

— shen ricky

painting live

you guys are making paintings to hang on eachothers walls

it’s actually pretty chill with ricky 👍

but then he accidentally splattered some paint onto his designer white shirt

his honest reaction to that: ☹️

but its okay, he can just buy a new one. maybe get a car too while he’s at it

since ricky is really good at arts

you wanted to paint him smth nice too

so you just put your autograph onto the canvas

he loves it tho and keeps it in his room 😔

“i can sell this!”

— park gunwook

workout stream

it was actually supposed to be a live for gunwook and matthew

but matthew had to do smth else

so you offered to accompany gunwook instead !

gunwook shares his workout tips and you just nod and agree

you both share your workout routines and people make articles abt them 🫢

‘zb1’s gunwook and y/n workout routine: is it effective?’

oh and you also get thirst trap edits bcuz of this

flaunting your muscles and abs and stuff idk 😭

“do you guys wanna know the secret to my godly physique?”

— kim taerae

from the content we have now..

it’s 100% a karaoke live

wbk he loves singing and he wanted to invite you to ‘taerae show #2’

has his anpanman guitar, ready at hand 🤝

you both have a blast singing and taerae becomes main rapper at some point

he’s so immersed in the ballad songs, he prolly starts crying for effects 😔

biggest hypeman

like he’s all ‘OH MY GOD WOAHHHH’

and he also harmonises w you

don’t be surprised when you get a compilation of ‘y/n and taerae: 5th gen main vocals’

“100 points?! i’m so good!”

— kim gyuvin

q&a stream

answering fan questions and basically fan service

“is a butt one or two?”

gyuvin actually thinks about it for a second and is like “oh my god.” 😭

it got too confusing though so you continued reading the comments

someone asked what he did today and he started thinking

“uh..” “sorry, i forgot.” you joke, making gyuvin stare daggers to you 🫢

he looks back to the screen

and with a wide smile he said

“i’m sorry zerose! i think we have to end the live here. thank you for watching!”

— kim jiwoong

makeup stream

where you do his makeup

and he’s giving you those eyes yk 👀

the comments are going crazy bcuz of it

and when you do his lips, he smiles and it curves so perfectly (ahdguajskshaikahdh)

you accidentally went overboard with the glitter

but jiwoong pulls off everything so it still looks amazing

everyone loves what you did and your makeup style is trending 👍

“i think some glitter got stuck in my eye.”

— han yujin

i don’t know why but you both are face painting

but instead of face painting on yourselves, you face paint eachother

“i’m gonna make you into a piece of art” he says as he paints a streak onto your face

he stops to take a step back and look at everything from a bigger picture

and bursts into laughter 😃

you’re so worried abt what he did to you

he tries to regain his composure but laughs every few seconds

“what’s wrong? what did you do?” “nothing! i made you look very.. cool.” 😁

and then you look into a mirror and you look like shrek's offspring (yes, you get turned into a meme)

“this is my best piece yet! should i leave my signature too?”

527 notes · View notes

jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

712 notes · View notes

cheolhub · 2 years ago

Note

sar what are your thoughts on who in txt is more likely to be a camboy and enjoy the attention 👁️👁️

— seungschlong anon

TXT AS CAMBOYS

first, MINORS DNI 18+ second, let’s be serious.

CHOI SOOBIN

this baby loves the attention. i mean, they all do, but pretty boy soobin? he lives for it and would probably die for it too.

it’s less about the money and more about finding comfort in feeling pleasure <3

he cams about every 3 days, but sometimes he’ll get so hard while he’s out ‘n sneak away to do a live, in public cam sess and he’s all hushed asking, “d’you guys think you could make me cum really quick? ‘m so hard :(“ (yes, you can hear him pouting even though his camera is pointed at his dick)

and the sweet comments are what get him

all of them are a variation of the same thing— “you’re so beautiful 🥺” and “your cock is so big!” and, his personal favorite, “you’re doing so well, baby~”

absolutely thrives off the attention and validation and praise… it kinda turns him into a whore

and ahh, sweet baby would be like, “can i cum? will you guys let me?” he asks almost every show, resulting in hundreds of dollars in tips <3

the comments always tell him “yes” because how can they say no when he sounds so breathy ‘n sweet? :(

CHOI YEONJUN

i know i said soobin lives for it, but yeonjun? god, yeonjun loves everything about being a camboy

cams every few days, much like soobin, but his are always the same day and time unless something comes up

he does it for both the money and the fact that his ego is going to get stroked

and yes, his loyal viewers are well aware that they’re inflating his already large ego, but no one really cares

he’s so fucking slick. he’s reading the comments and he’s like, “oh? you think i’m hot? how hot, baby?” as is if he were talking to one person but he’s really talking to everyone.

and the comments always consist of quite possibly the most unhinged shit a comment section could have

and he just laughs at all of them and says some provoking shit back like, “if you want me to ruin you, why don’t you come over here ‘n try to take my cock then? bet you couldn’t even handle it~”

one of the top camboys in the group !! his tips pay for everything in his life xx

CHOI BEOMGYU

MEAN MEAN MEAN MEAN!!!!!

just so fucking mean, he doesn’t even care. he cams when he needs to blow off some steam so it’s sporadic but there’s at least one show a week (no set time or day or place)

and he literally loves the money and loves all the sluts in his comments getting all needy for him

he’ll be in his gaming chair, panting and moaning while reading all the needy comments and listening to the sound of tips being donated

everyone’s in heat and he’s just laughing at them, “you’re all so fucking pathetic? you like watching me jerk my cock? is it turning all of you on?”

and of-fucking-course it’s turning them on, he knows that, but he’s such a MEANIE that he likes reading the viewers agree to it

“aw, look at all of you in heat, that’s so fucking cute,” he’ll say in the most patronizing tone. “too bad you won’t get to watch me cum.” :(

he ends up giving the commenters an incentive, “oh you guys really wanna see me cum? wanna see me make a fucking mess? get me up to x dollars ‘n i’ll think about it.” sometimes he’ll cut the live as he’s cumming and sometimes he’ll let everyone watch all of it unfold— YOU NEVER KNOW AND THIS IS HOW HE’S RICH!!!!

KANG TAEHYUN

one of those sweet, soft doms. his words would make you melt every single time without fail

he loves giving!! cams for free because he knows there isn’t much content that guides people to their orgasms (but he still gets a shit load of tips that it makes up for it) and the attention makes him feel good! he’s doing god’s work tbh

like beomgyu, it’s weekly, but there’s always a time and place. thursdays at 10:45 p.m.

he loves talking to the chat before getting started. he’ll offer small talk with a soft, pretty voice. “while we wait for more people to join, everyone tell me how their weeks been.”

and then when he gets started, he’s being all sweet and praising the fuck out of his watchers. everyone’s crying in the chat about how they’re “gonna cum” even though he’s only been at it for 10 minutes

“you wanna cum for me? you know you don’t have to ask for my permission, but go ahead and let go yeah? imagine it’s me making you feel good and just let go for me.”

ah! and he moans so prettily when he cums unexpectedly after 20 minutes of talking up the watchers and languidly stroking his cock >////< always ends the live with a wink and cheeky comment like, “be good for me till next week, hm?”

HUENING KAI

WORLDS BEST CAM BOY- I DON’T MAKE THE RULES. he’s literally everything you could ever want!

does it for the endless love and attention, and he’s smitten as fuck with his viewers.

this baby cams every other night if he can because his stamina is ungodly… i’m telling you it’s literally insane

he’s a switch too and i can imagine him being kind of kinky? fleshlight, vibrator, strap, stuffed teddy etc. but sometimes he just uses his hand and that’s just as good. but, like, you never actually know what you’re going to be watching till the live starts— which he thinks is pretty fucking fun

when he’s domming, it’s really just him being a bratty top replying to comments and saying things like, “you want me to play with my nipples, too? you’re so needy. why don’t you play with your nipples, baby? bet, you’d look so cute all f’me.”

and when he’s being a sub, it’s so so cute. he’s in tears and he’s begging so bad, “please, please, please lemme cum! i’ll be a good boy, i swear!” and, of course, his watchers hold grudges so they have him edge himself.

he’s cute and hot and undoubtedly the highest ranking camboy online so we all know his tips are insane because how couldn’t they be?

always closes out with asking everyone how good they felt and smiles reading the endless comments about how he’s THE camboy

#[💌: seungschlong]#SEUNGSCHLONG STRIKES AGAIN!!!!#THAT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE OSBSHDB #not proofread #kinda crack?#but like also real #txt smut #soobin smut #yeonjun smut #beomgyu smut #taehyun smut #hueningkai smut

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slutouttanowhere · 7 months ago

Text

Count your blessings

Priest!Drew McIntyre x reader

Warnings: major themes of blasphemy, absolutely down right disrespectful to religion. Oral (f) receiving, fingering, manipulation tactics, disorientation, dub-con. MINORS DO NOT READ!

Word count: 2k

a/n: Ummm literally nobody asked for this, I was left unattended pre-mania, and post mania. In fact this was inspired by that promo Drew did the Monday week of Mania. Which if you’re a Drew stan I feel like we could all use some good chaotic content after that Philadelphia screw job. So here it is…unhinged, 100% pure crack, I hope you all enjoy, I was kinda nervous about sharing this. Like reblog, leave a comment and follow for more.

You walked into the large Catholic Church a friend of yours had recommended a while ago. It was familiar in a sense where your eyes seemed to land on it every time you drove past it on the way to the market. You haven’t been in a church of any kind since you were a teenager, and at this point you’re not even sure if you believe in God. However, recently you’ve been struggling with, to put it in your mothers words,‘treating your vagina like a Hell Mouth.’ After last weekend where you picked up a guy from a bar, that one ended badly, and at some point you were being stalked. Your best friend Shamus handled that though, the sleaze wouldn’t be bothering you anymore.

Your heels clicked against the perfectly waxed wooden floors, and that’s how you could describe the whole church, perfect. Pristine condition, it made you feel like the hour long hot shower you took before now wasn’t enough to feel like you deserved to be here. For a second you pause when a man, whom you assume is the pastor, slowly turns to you from where he stood at the altar. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, ‘goddamn he was hot,’ you thought to yourself.

“May I help you, miss?” He asked, his accent thick, and his tone gentle. His gray-blue eyes watches you with curiosity, he gives you a once over, suddenly you wish you wore a longer skirt. Absent-mindedly you pulled at the hem of your skirt in an attempt to adjust yourself.

‘Tall, dark, handsome, and Scottish. Fuck I’ve hit the motherload.’ Once again caught up in your thoughts, the sound of him clearing his throat jump starts you back into reality. “Oh, um…I came to confess?” You wanted to kick yourself for how ridiculous you sound, his lips slightly turn upward into a small smile. With a bemused expression on his face, he let out a soft chuckle. That’s when you noticed the dimples in his cheeks, they brought a youthfulness to his face.

“Are you sure?” He questions teasingly, you roll your eyes, instantly relaxing, and oddly enough feeling like the two of you were old friends. He chuckles again, then takes a few steps towards you, and the closer he gets, the taller he becomes. “Please excuse my humor, I’m Father Andrew McIntyre, why don’t you sit, and talk to me. Tell me a little about yourself.”

Suddenly you feel shy under his gaze, when his large hands envelopes yours, the warmth of him, and the glint in his pretty eyes cause fluttering in the pit of your stomach. Peaking at him from under your long lashes, you silently agree, and let him lead you over to the front row seats.

“Okay, well um, I haven’t been in a church in years…” You trail off, the handsome priest is quiet, and inventive as he hangs onto your every word. Naturally you began to ramble, dancing around the actual reason you were there.

“And the reason you’re here is because?” He asks, trying to steer you back on task, he sat studiously. His dark gray suit seemingly straining against his large muscles, he watches you expectantly.

“Polyamory seems to be causing me a lot of trouble…but I don’t know how to stop. I just see a man, and instantly I’m attracted to them. Next thing I know, I’m in their bed.” You explain in a quiet, bashful voice. Your eyes looking past him, you’d rather stare at your hands than Father Galloway’s judgmental eyes. He didn’t speak, but nodded his head for you to continue, so you did. “I don’t even feel bad about it, in fact I love it, sometimes I…ache for it. Being pent up, walking on eggshells all day, and finally being able to just totally let go. Just this sense of being an absolute animal with another stranger, it does something to me.” And that’s when you began to feel like you said too much, your breath hitches when your gaze met his.

“Well it seems like we’re in quite a predicament here.” He said deeply, his eyes darkened, and his hand smoothly slid up on my knee. “There’s only one way I could help you my dear, would you like to know?” The way his touch heated up your entire body wasn’t lost on you, but you tried to swallow it. You could see Jesus’ face in the stained glass window from your peripheral. Getting horny under the eyes of God seemed absolutely sacrilegious, but that didn’t stop your nipples from hardening painfully.

You swallowed, then nodded your head, “yes.” Your voice sounded uneven, as if you were fighting yourself, as if you didn’t even trust yourself around this man. Little did you know, you weren’t the one that shouldn’t have been trusted.

“See, the only way for me to extract this sinful behavior out of you, is to fuck it out of you.” He explained carefully.

To say you were baffled by the words this man just uttered was an understatement. You blinked a few times trying to wrap your brain around what he just said, and you looked around the church just to double check that you were indeed in a church. “I– isn’t that the exact opposite of what I should be doing?”

“Do you think you’re in any position to question a man of God y/n? Trust in me, this is the way; to have a release so great that you would never again think of another man’s touch again.” His hand softly trailed higher up your thigh, his other hand grasped your chin, and forced your eyes to meet yours.

“You’re feeling it now aren’t you? That carnal desire to be raptured, tore apart, and devoured.” His large hand slid down your cheek caressing it, then down the base of your neck, and when he got to your breast he ghosted over it instead of touching you. Your breath caught in your throat, for a second you could have sworn his eyes flickered a bright red, but when you blinked they were back to that gray-blue color. You shook your head trying to snap out of whatever trans he had you in.

“This…this is wrong I mean, no I’m not doing this.” Quickly you stood to your feet, and though you found it weird that he didn’t stop you, you don't question it. You’re halfway to the exit when a wave of heat passes over you, and straight between your thighs. A sensation so strong it weakened your knees causing you to grab onto the end of a wooden row. “What the fuck?” For a second you looked over your shoulder to see the priest still standing where you left him. The corners of his lips turned upward, you turned back feeling your hands shake, and you squeezed your eyes shut. When you opened them, you were back in the front of the church, but now you were laid out at the altar. Your vision was a bit blurry, all you could really make out was all the candles that were lit around you, and that fucking image of Jesus in the glass window.

“What the fuck?” Your voice croaked, you tried to move but quickly realized your hands were bound together. “Priest–

“Please, I prefer you call me Father.” He walked into your line of sight, you tried to blink away the fog, but mainly the sweat that had fallen into your eyes. He grabbed you by the chin, gently this time, and dabbed away the sweat around your forehead and eyes. A wave of heat ripped through you once more traveling down your body, and right between your thighs. Your clit throbbed almost painfully causing your back to arch, he let out a deep chuckle. “I have a new proposition for you, I will soothe your aches anytime you please.” He paused, thankful you had a drop of common sense left because you knew there was a clause, he snorted, “well I’m glad you didn’t think it was that easy, smart human you are. I will soothe your aches anytime you please…if you become my new toy.”

Before you could answer, heat rolled through you again, this time causing a painful sting to your nipples. The sensation of something warm pressed against your clit, but when you looked up, Father Andrew was standing in front of you. “What are you doing to me? Who are you? What are you?” You moaned out, your hips moving back and forth with the motion of whatever it was that was teasing you between your thighs. Head thrown back, and eyes closed, something was bringing you closer to release. Right when you were on edge it stopped, then you realized you were holding your breath in anticipation.

“Prolonging the inevitable I see, that’s fine, I have nothing but time my sweet little mortal.” He teased, then took his index finger, and dragged from your neck down to your stomach. It was then that you realized you were left in your bra and panties. He drew circles with his finger just below your belly button, slowly a ripple of pleasure began to stir in a heated sensation. Your skin prickled as you began to feel hot and cold at the same time.

“Please.” You begged, your body squirmed around in discomfort, and desire, a conflicting urge.

He laughed at you darkly, “you can’t even comprehend what you’re begging for. Though, it’s not like it matters, I could smell the stench on you from the second you laid eyes on me.” His voice modulated to a baritone, and boisterous volume.

“I’ll do it, I’ll be whatever you want, just please.” You pleaded weakly, another wave of heat washed over you, and if you were standing you’d probably fall over. Right when you thought he was going give you what you wanted, his hand slowly trailed down from your belly button, and down between your thighs where he stopped. His large hand cupping your cotton covered cunt, your hips rocked forward, desperately trying to gain some kind of pleasure.

“All you have to do is say yes, be my pet, give yourself to me. And you’ll never go looking elsewhere.” He offered again, and when you thought about it, it really wasn’t a promising deal. Then your nipples painfully tightened, and your clit began to pulse, suddenly logic left you. At this point sweat was lining your hairline, and pooling between your breasts.

“Fine.” You panted out of breath, “I’ll do it, I will be your pet. I’ll be whatever you want just please, I need it.” Finally you caved, that’s all he needed to hear, and before your very eyes he transformed. Dark black horns grew to a point from his head, his muscles, and chest grew larger causing him to rip out of his suit. His eyes morphed from that stormy blue-gray to a blood red, and the smirk on his lips deepened. Traces of dark clouds rolled off of him, as you tried to look upon him, an intense wave of pleasure rolled through you. You cried out, “god!”

Father Andrew chucked deviously. “God isn’t here! Call back later.” He teased in a melodic voice.

“What are you?” You asked out of breath, your eyes were screwed shut because clearly looking directly at him in this form was a mistake.

“What am I? Depending on who you ask, I’m a sexy beast.” He answered arrogantly, you opened your eyes to rebuttal and nearly jumped out of your skin from his sudden proximity. “Don’t you dare look away, look me in the eyes when you speak to me please.” He demanded, reluctantly you opened your eyes, he was gorgeous, a point where you were almost jealous. His dark hair had grown longer, almost covering his eyes like curtains, and his lips plush and pink.

Your back arching off the wooden cross you were strapped to, your breath shuddered when his large hands grasped your thighs, and spread you apart. Already you were aching, throbbing, and slick. He ripped your panties off you as if they were nothing, a slight breeze caressed you causing you to cry out again.

“Yesssss, let me hear you, I love those weak human moans you’re letting out.” His tongue licked from your cheek, down your neck and between your breasts. You wanted to rip yourself in half, by the end of this, you’d known for sure you’d be a fend. He reached up to undo your tied hands, your hands ran through his silky soft hair gripping them as tightly as you could. He let out a guttural growl, his lips found yours pulling you into a sloppy, wet kiss. Picking you up in his large muscular arms, he laid you out on the altar, without needing much talk, Father Andrew stuffed his face between your thighs, and began to lap at your already dripping cunt. “Ah!” Your head fell all the back, you weren’t sure if there was legit something wrong with you or if it were the effects of Andrew’s abilities, whatever thoes were you weren’t sure, but something about how fucked up this whole scenario was turned you on even more.

He looked up from between your thighs, the corner of his mouth pulled into a sly grin. “Mmm you're just what I needed, a little pet that would do anything I told her too. Mmm.” He mumbled between licks to your clit, you lifted your hips to his mouth, and his hands held onto your ass keeping you there. You rocked back and forth on his face desperately, your hands found his horns, and held onto them tightly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cried over and over, you were so close you could cry.

“Now that’s not how we confess, is it?” He teased letting go of your clit with a pop of his mouth, then without giving you much of a break he slid one thick finger in as deeply as possible. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned…” he trailed off, then closed his lips around your clit again, restimulating your little brown bud.

With the air left in your lungs, “f-forgive me father.” You trembled, but you tried again, deciding to try and fight through the waves of heat, and fluttering in the core of your body. “Forgive me father, for I have– OHHHH!” Just like that you squirted all over Andrew, and yourself making a complete mess. Your heart thudded, and your vision was slightly blurry, you blinked a few times trying to clear the fog. All you could do was lie there while your muscles tried to relax, but the waves just kept coming.

“It’ll stop after a minute…or two, poor human body wasn’t even prepared.” Andrew laughed at you, ‘evil bastard,’ you thought to yourself, but he was right, it subsided after a moment. When you finally mustered the strength to sit up, you brought your knees to your chest wanting to be covered under his observatory gaze. His form had gone back to how it was originally when you first stepped into the church. His chest was still bare, and now that you looked at him half clothed, you could tell by his physique he was no average man. His arms, chest, and neck were ripped. His arms and legs were ridiculously long, this man’s stature was unbelievable, yet here he was standing before you. He was covered in a thin layer of hair from his chest down past his navel.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in my pet, but you’ll adjust in time.” He said softly, he walked over to you, and kneeled on one knee to meet you eye to eye. The Ruby red irises are long gone, but that’s when it dawned on you.

“Adjust?” You wondered out loud, more so to yourself.

“Well you didn’t think I’d let you go after that? Oh no, you’re…perfect.” He purred, his eyes glossed over with desire. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his hand dragged over his chin, then tasting the wetness you sprayed over his face.

“You can’t just keep me here.” You fussed, not like it would do much.

“I’ll be whatever you want.” He mocked your words from earlier, and instantly your stomach dropped, regretting your decision. Once again letting your pussy think for you.

“And what I want you to be is my pretty little toy, now I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain…it’s your turn. Don’t worry though, I’ll let you walk out of here tonight, but don’t try to get smart. You have my mark now.” Andrew grinned, in all his years of doing this, they never seem to learn, but you were close to breaking his spell the first time. Your will was your own, but you were too insecure to know the power over men you had.

Before you had a chance to question him, the inside of your forearm began to burn, but nothing like the heat you’ve experienced before, this was worse. “AGH!” You screamed as it felt like your flesh was being burned, you looked down to see a symbol you didn’t recognize. “What the fuck?”

“That is my mark, just think of it as a tracking device, and an anti human make repellent rolled into one. And before you start fussing, it’s the human male population I don’t trust darlin. Anyways…don’t worry about coming to me next time, I’ll come to you. Wherever you are.” He rattled off quickly, then snapped his fingers before you could fuss, you blinked and you were back in bed. Sleep clothes already on, and everything. You wanted to argue but you were hit with exhaustion, your eyelids too heavy to keep open. The second they closed you were out, that night you dreamed of him, Andrew McIntyre, but you had yet to learn of his true name.

#drew mcintyre x reader #wwe one shot #wwe smut #monster lover #black!reader #—tokio

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