#I’ve been forcefully reminded | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amethystarachnid · 8 months ago

Note

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know��this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

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chvoswxtch · 5 months ago

Note

☾ action- blurbs (request a director’s cut to make it spicy)

mob!bucky barnes having the hots for his boss’s daughter… oh no, whatever will the hoes do? her dad would kill him if he ever noticed him looking at his little girl (little girl as in just his daughter, not as in she’s actually still young, the boss is just old, so she’s probably relatively close to bucky’s age. anyhow, this is not an important detail, could be hot with an age gap too. okay, i’ll stop rambling) in the way that he does

what the hoes did is run wild with this (it's me i'm the hoes)

you planted this slutty seed in my brain, so pls enjoy the slutty vision it bloomed into <3

as a reminder, director's cut means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

a bronx tale starring bucky barnes

“Don’t make a fucking sound.”

The edge of Bucky’s mouth was lifted in a faint snarl as he growled at you, forcefully gripping your hips and spinning you around to face the bathroom counter, pushing at your back to bend you over while kicking your legs apart with his foot.

This is what you wanted. It’s why you’d worn such a short skirt and a low cut top. Why you’d leaned over the kitchen island to enjoy a popsicle, taking your time to savor every lick. Why you’d untied the strings of your bikini top when you laid out on your stomach to enjoy the sunshine. All under the watchful eyes of your father’s right hand man, who was the object of all your fantasies, and hadn’t been paying you nearly enough attention lately.

You knew the second you disappeared upstairs, he’d be hot on your heels, and you smirked to yourself, shedding your panties on the way to the bathroom, leaving them on your bedroom floor like some kind of invitation. You knew he’d be riled up, pissed off from your taunting, and he’d make you pay for it.

But his attention would be on you.

A low groan left his lips along with a hiss of a curse when he pushed the short skirt up and saw how wet you were for him.

“Christ doll, you need it that bad?”

Sneaking a glance over your shoulder at him with a pout, you wiggled your hips a little, trying to press your ass against the huge tent in his pants.

“It’s been over a week, Buck. Been having to play with my toys.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened into storm clouds as he met your gaze in the mirror, gripping your hair and yanking your head back with his flesh hand while his metal one swiftly unbuckled his belt and tugged down his zipper.

“You know I hate it when you use those.”

“Well if you were here to fuck me, I wouldn’t have to.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. You were pissing him off on purpose, he knew it. You both knew it. And he hated that it was working. You always knew exactly what buttons to press. Without warning, he gripped your hips and snapped his own forward, and you let out a sharp cry and jolted forward as his thick cock became buried to the hilt inside you.

“Shut up.”

Bucky hissed in your ear, his flesh hand coming up to cover your mouth. He forced you to look at him in the mirror, and he didn’t give you a second to adjust before he began to fuck you over the counter with a feral intensity.

“Fucking brat. Your needy little cunt is gonna get me killed, you know that? Walking around here with your short skirts and your fuck me eyes. When daddy finds out what I’ve been doing to his little girl, he’s gonna fucking kill me.”

You tried to form words, but your brain had been reduced to mush, and the only thing coming out was incoherent moans and whines that were muffled by Bucky’s palms. It was selfish of you to put his entire life on the line just because you couldn’t get enough of him. But you and Bucky had gotten away with sneaking around for six months now.

There were severe consequences to the risk you were taking. But Bucky seemed to forget that your father was wrapped around your little finger.

And whatever you wanted, you always got.

#court's 5k followers celebration #court's 5k friends celebration #movie night at mine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes smut #mob!bucky

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peterm4rker · 5 months ago

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(𐙚⋆.˚) late night drives

⋆ 𐙚 ⭑.ᐟ [taeyong x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 800 w. none! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

the weight of the dark that surrounded you felt crushing; suffocating as you tossed and turned around the bed, looking for a position that would miraculously turn off the voices that overlapped in your head and reminded you of every single one of your worries. sweat seemed to pool at the nape of your neck, creating an uncomfortable feeling that you just couldn’t shake off no matter how many times you attempted to wipe it away; a moist feeling clinging onto the flimsy tank top you had already changed into in face of the heat.

an exasperated sigh fell off your lips as your eyes opened abruptly, all too awake to have been forcefully closed for the past three hours. you reached for your phone that sat on the nightstand, quickly bracing yourself for the overbearing light of the screen before turning it on. the picture that welcomed you made your heart ease for a moment, your boyfriend’s smiling face and starry eyes greeting you like a warm hug. you stared at it for a few seconds before unblocking the device and doing the only thing that could bring you comfort in moments: talking - or attempting to - to your boyfriend.

ty track 🗣️

tell me youre awake rn please please please

dont prove i'm right💃🕺💃🕺

istg can you call?

no answer was needed when your phone began vibrating, indicating the awaiting call.

“hey baby” taeyong greeted you once you answered, a smile evident in his tired voice. “what are you doing up so late?”

“i can’t sleep,” you sighed, a pout taking place on your lips. “i’ve been trying for hours, i even took pills and everything.”

“oh, i’m sorry, love, that sucks” he spoke once again. it was incredible, really, how only his voice could make your irritation dissipate in a matter of seconds.

“what are you doing awake?” you asked in turn, hugging a pillow closer to your chest.

“i was finishing up that song i’ve been working on, i think it turned out pretty good.” he smiled, making your chest beam with pride.

“i know it did, they always do.” you smiled.

“i have a perfect muse.” the boy answered, his words as heart fluttering as always.

“stop, you’re making me blush,” you spoke, eliciting a giggle from the other line.

“sure i am,” he laughed softly, followed by a couple of seconds of silence before he spoke up again. “get ready, yeah? i’ll pick you up in 10 and we can go on a drive.”

his offer was tempting, even as you looked down to catch the poor excuse for clothes you were wearing.

“sure, i’ll be ready,” you smiled, waiting for his confirmation to hang up the call and stand up to put on a pair of shorts and brush your teeth.

the ten minutes you waited passed by agonizingly slowly, making it seem like an eternity before you heard a knock on your door. you swung it open after checking the peephole and confirming it was your boyfriend.

“hey there, come here often?” the pink haired boy asked, making you roll your eyes as you closed the door behind you and walked up to envelop him in your arms.

“pretty often, i would say.” you muttered, basking on the feeling of his strong arms surrounding your frame, pulling you further into his chest as he left a kiss on your forehead.

“let’s go put you to sleep,” taeyong muttered, breaking apart from you only to open the door of his car, climbing onto his own seat after having secured you in yours. “want to listen to some music?”

you shook your head in response, getting comfortable on the seat as you looked at him. “tell me about your day.” the boy smiled and nodded, beginning to drive as he told you about everything he had done ever since he woke up. you listened intently to his soothing voice - for about five minutes - before your eyes began to feel heavy and your mind became hazy, tenderly leading you to a peaceful slumber.

taeyong looked at you from the corner of his eye after it was silent for a little too long. his lips formed a smile as his heart seemed to burst out in warmth at the sight of you all cuddled up and passed out on the passenger seat of his car.

‘works like a charm’ he thought, slowing down so he could grab the hoodie he had left on the back seat and drape it around your body. his unoccupied hand found its way to one of your own, interlacing your fingers as he turned around the block directly to your house.

𐙚 blue's corner ;; happy 1/27 !! i wanted to post one of the boys and get out of my writers block so this is my official attempt to do that (also an apology for the last ty post). i miss him more than i can describe, TY COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU also thank you to my babies vicky and my wife for beta reading<333 𐙚 taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng @taroddori 𐙚 back to the masterlist. 𐙚 please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

#lee taeyong #taeyong #nct 127 #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader #nct 127 x reader #☘︎˖˚ ⋆𐙚 blue's archives #☘︎˖˚ ⋆𐙚 taeyong #nct #nct dream #nct taeyong #nct u #nct wish #wayv #taeyong fluff #lee taeyong fluff #i miss you please come home

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baby-yongbok · 11 months ago

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Yes, Mistress

Demon!Seo Changbin x Demon Lord!Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Sub!Changbin x Dom!Reader [MDNI] ✮ WC: 3k

✮ Summary: Needy and lovestruck Changbin will do anything to be the center of attention for his mistress. ✮ CW: This is a monster fucker fic [I know, I didn't see it coming either], Unprotected sex, Anal sex, creampie, light degradation, Changbin is big like really. (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: Okay, so, I tried to finish a different Changbin fic I had to end Binnie Birthday Week but it just wasn't doing it for me so I wrote this in 6 hours. Don't ask me how I came up with it or anything I don't know the answer to any of your questions 😭So here's my first monster fucker fic (Does this fall into that category? I think it does) Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

“You’re staring.” You whisper to the entity beside you. He’s been eyeing you for at least an hour. You’ve gotten good at ignoring him but the persistent heat of his pitch black gaze can get a bit heavy. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your bright eyes catch his dark ones and he shrinks a bit. He knows better than to say something like that. He knows not to play around but Changbin can be a bit of a tease. You suppose it’s all in the fun of being a hell dweller, they’re entitled to some entertainment but not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to, Mistress.

“Why would you make me nervous?” You sit up straighter in your chair, pushing your hair to the side to give him a good look at the sigil etched dark into your skin. You’ve acquired ownership of Changbin and a few other demons through the lordship of your father. They fear him of course, but you? You’re different. They’ve learned that you’re more than a bright eyed princess, you’re ruthless, and that’s what excites them. “I make you nervous, never the other way around.”

“Yes, mistress.” Changbin mutters, eyeing you like a lovesick puppy. “I’m sorry for staring it’s just that I -”

“Want attention?” You stand from your seat abruptly and the fiend watches closely. There’s no hint of anxiety or fear from him but you can smell it. You’ve grown familiar with the scent, it keeps you up at night. It drives you insane and paints a smile on your face, something like the one you have now while Changbin digs his blackened claws into the dense wood of the table in front of him.

“You want me to give you attention? You’re jealous that I’ve been calling on Minho more?” He nods, gulping heavily as his midnight pupils beg for you. “What can you give me? What are you offering me, hound?”

“Whatever you need, my mistress.” He stands before you and you glare, you can hear the remnant thumping of his damned heart as he realizes what he’s done. No one stands before you without a summons. “I’m sorry.”

He kneels promptly, Bowing his head towards your bare feet. You take this opportunity to look him over, his pitch black hair shines in the light of your common room and his ashened fingers are digging into the hardwood below him and great anticipation.

There’s a reason that you’ve been overlooking Changbin’s willingness to serve, you like him too much. He’s an annoying love sick imp who you have an undeniable attraction to. He’s the only one of your legion that is casually allowed in your common room. He’s the only one that you allow to dine with you on nights like tonight and he’s the only one who can make you feel like you’re one of them.

You want him, so much so that he pulls your demonic nature to the forefront and you can’t have that, though it is nice to indulge every now and then.

“You’re so needy that you’ve forgotten your place, hm?” You step towards him and he keeps his gaze cast to your feet. “Need I remind you who’s in charge?”

You raise a foot to his chest, pushing him back forcefully. He extends his arms behind him to break the fall and you furrow your brows down at him. “Oh, you’ve truly forgotten.” You push him again and he falls backwards.

“Mistress, I’m -” You shush him, watching as his dark pants grow an impressive tent. “You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?”

He grunts, the tent stiffening at your inquiry. “You were told that I am to be obeyed. You were told to serve me at all costs no matter the consequence. My father told you that I am your owner and you’ve made the honor to serve me your reason to breathe, haven’t you?”

“Yes, mistress. I do love you.” The sound of fabric splitting at the seams echoes through the room, you watch as his thick cock fights to free itself of its confinement. “You’re everything.”

“I know I am.” You press the ball of your foot down between his pecs, the muscles bulge and strain under your touch. Changbin watches as you let your dusk colored toes run over his stomach. He’s soft and strong under your touch and it takes so much control for both of you to stay in line. “You want to serve me?

“Yes, please.” His dark eyes nearly glow in the dim light, his smoky claws have marked your floors with proof of his wavering restraint and his raven hair is nearly smoking with a revenant flame.

Your foot stops at the hilt of his cock just as his useless pants give way to his arousal. He grunts at the bite of cool air that meets his throbbing length, his eyes snap shut in a desperate attempt at taming himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress.” He blinks up at you, sincerity glazing the pitch black.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet.” You circle the hilt of his cock with your big toe, knocking the head of it as you make your rounds. The sounds that leak from him make you want to make some of your own. “How about you use this pretty dick to serve me, hm? How about we try a little something?”

You press your foot to his length, he moans at the contact. It’s high pitched and begging for more, begging for you. “Yes, whatever you’d like. Anything, mistress, I’m yours.”

He throbs under the slight pressure of your foot and your pussy drips at the feeling. You’ve been growing wet since he started staring so you’re certain that you’re a puddle by now.

“I’m wet.” You state simply but it’s anything but simple to Changbin. “Let’s see if you can still eat pussy correctly, then we’ll try a little something, yeah?” He nods, mumbling confirmations that you don’t care to listen to as you rid yourself of your underwear.

Strings of sticky arousal pull from your cunt to the soaked gusset of the fabric. The sight of it makes Changbin’s cock dribble with arousal. If he weren’t so thick you lick it up for him. You’d swallow his cock so perfectly that he just might get his soul back, but that’s a quest for another day.

“Eyes on me, fiend.” You position yourself over him, lifting your skirt so that you can watch his gaze flick between your pretty brown eyes and your sopping cunt. “Eat.” You lower yourself onto him and he’s tasting you before you can take a breath.

His long tongue slips and glides through your folds with expert precision. He laps at every soaked corner and flicks your swollen clit just how you’ve taught him. Growls rip through the both of you followed by panting moans spilling over your parted lips.

“Fuck, Changbin.” You lift your skirt higher to watch him. His nose rests on your public mound, tickling the hair that you’ve carefully shaped as he shakes his head back and forth with your clit snug between his blushed lips. You throw your head back, animalistic wails ripping from your chest as he sucks on the sensitive nub. This is why you can’t fuck Changbin, he ruins you.

“‘M gonna fucking cum. Gonna cum gonna cum, swallow my fucking cum.” He hums against you, continuing his blissful attack on your cunt until you’re writhing on top of him. His nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, leaving marks for the others to see when you summon them for a night. He might not be the only one allowed to fuck you but he know’s that he’s the best. He wants to be the best.

“Release.” You order in a breathy moan and he licks up your cunt one more time before pulling

back. You’re panting over him, eyes shut with the faintest hint of a grin. “Sit up.” He moves swiftly, grabbing you by your thighs and sitting straight up with you positioned in his lap. Your wet cunt is sitting right over his throbbing length and he has to hold his breath to control himself.

“I want you to fuck me.” You lace your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It’s a clash of hungry tongues fighting for dominance and sharp teeth biting at the plump flesh of the others lips. It’s a battle that you’ll always win. “Fuck my ass.”

“Mistress.” Changbin groans against your lips but you silence him with another kiss. You suck his skilled tongue into your mouth. Twirling the muscle with your own before falling back into a makeout. “I’ll fuck your ass.” He mumbles as you break the kiss.

“Do you think you’ll fit?” You rock yourself over him and he melts. His claws sink into you, and his frame swells under your magnetic touch. You take his hand and bring it back to grip your ass, he grabs at the flesh leaving a harsh spank on your cheek before he brings his finger between them to rim your tiny hole.

“Fuck.” Changbin’s cock twitches against you as he presses into the tight ring of muscle. “It’ll be so tight, gonna stretch you out.” You sigh a moan and he follows.

“Let’s see if you’re right.” You move, hovering over his daunting length. He runs the tip of his dick through your folds to collect your sweet slick before he positions his swollen tip. You lower yourself down onto him, hissing at the brutal stretch. “Ah- my god, Changbin.”

“‘S too fucking tight, not gon - Holy hell, you won’t. You can’t” Only the head of his throbbing length has breaches your hole. Your legs are shaky and unstable the more you try to take. He’s barely a quarter in and you swear that you can feel him in your stomach. “Come here.”

Changbin’s hands find your waist and he lifts you up just enough for the very tip of him to stay in place. “I’ll fuck up into you, is that okay?” You agree, supporting your weight with steady hands on his shoulders. The gesture is useless since Changbin is strong enough to hold your weight times any given number but you keep your hands planted anyway.

You inhale deeply and he takes it as his cue to push up into you. You scream into the air on your exhale, It ends in a moan as more of him sinks into you. Your cunt clenches at the fullness and your sticky arousal trails back to give him just enough lubrication to aid him.

“You’re so fucking big, Bin.” He groans, bucking his hips up slightly to feel more of you. “I wanna feel you in my fucking guts. You’re gonna fill me up, gonna fuck me better than anyone else aren’t you?” You struck a chord, it’s obvious with the way that he growls beneath you.

“Fuck yes, I fuck you better than anyone.” He moves you down, controlling you by your waist as he bucks up into you. You feel the delicious burn of the stretch as more of his cock sinks in. “My mistress, I’m hers. I fuck her tight tiny hole like no one else.”

His head is thrown back, his dark eyes are shut and his mouth is parted in a silent moan. You’re almost an exact mirror of him except you’re anything but quiet. You’re moaning, panting, growling, screaming. Every sound known to man and beyond is vibrating through you at the delicious stretch of his cock.

“Mine.” He mumbles, pushing into you further. He’s fucked out, soul snatched and hypnotized by the thought of you and all that you encompass. This is what you live for. This is what it feels like to have these pretty fiends wrapped around your finger. This is euphoria.

“Shit, Changbin. Changbin you’re fucking deep so fucking- holy fuck.” You’re damn near limp in his arms once he bottoms out. He holds you against his strong chest, his arms wrap around your middle and he bucks up into you little by little.

You have no idea what spot he’s hitting. You have no idea how there could possibly be room for him this deep inside you. None of this makes sense but the pleasure coating your nerve endings doesn’t care for it to. “Fuck me, fuck me, now.”

He lifts you up on demand, helping you bounce on his cock at a pace that would be boring if you weren’t stretched to your limit. Tears stream down your pretty red cheeks, your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you pant cross eyed and fuck out in his arms. “So pretty.” He whispers, moving you on his cock like his favorite fuck toy.

“My clit, please. Touch my pussy.” Changbin maneuvers himself, one arm wraps around you to keep you bouncing on his cock while his free hand rubs at your swollen bud. You cry out above him, tears streaming and screams echoing as he holds you still to fuck up into your pretty tight hole.

Skilled fingers flick and circle your clit as you fall apart in tandem. You claw unique shapes and freeform sigils into his back as he summons the pleasure in your body to take over each and every burning inch of flesh he wishes desperately to devour.

“Cum, cum, cum.” You chant with sprinkles of his name here and there. He presses firmer circles into your clit at the warning. You look up at him with tear stained cheeks and blown pupils and he stares back at you with a shimmering darkness behind drooping lids. “Please let me make you cum, Mistress.”

He’s out of breath when he pleads to you and you’re barely breathing as still and cry out in his hold. He fucks into you slowly as you come undone. The hand that was once on your clit is carving lines into the hardwood as he tries to control his own orgasm. He helps you ride through yours, guiding you to grind on his cock until you’re finally breathing again.

Your eyes flutter open to the most beautiful image of a fucked out hellwalker that you could imagine. He’s practically drooling as he watches you. His shirt is ripped from the swelling of his frame, his hair is a tousled mess from the mindless raking of your fingers and his kiss bitten lips are quietly whispering lost prayers for him to keep his composure.

“You’re so good to me.” You run your hands through his hair and he sighs at the contact, blinking up at you. “I’ll reward you with my cunt, use me to cum.” His eyes get darker, if that's even possible, he sits up straighter against you and you moan at the way your holes clench.

“Use me and fill me with your cum, I can take it, don’t worry.” You coo at him and he keens. His arms circle you again, squeezing you tight against him as he fucks into you slowly.

“Thank you.” He whispers, fucking into you faster and faster by the second as he chants fucked out ‘thank yous’ into the air. “You’re so fucking tiny. So small in my arms I could fuck you for days, for years. Can I please? Can I please have my mistress forever? I’ve already given myself to you, I’m yours, all yours.”

He’s in his head, he’s so caught up in his mumbling that he barely processes your screaming. He’s too lost in his deep need for you to realize that he’s simply manhandling you in his hold. He’s moving you over him like a toy that he’s determined to break. “I’m yours all yours.”

A grunt that can only be recognized as inhuman erupts from him as he falls apart. Ropes of heavy, thick cum paint your walls and you find yourself coming undone again at the feeling of it. You moan into the air like a woman possessed as you squirt all over his stomach, your arousal pools and drips down with the cum that escapes your tiny hole where Changbin still has you plugged and full.

You pant against each other, skin glistening with sweat as the air around you evaporates. He’s still holding you, nails digging into your sides and marking you yet again. His back is no better, there are traces of you on almost every inch of him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You gather all of your strength to pull yourself away from Changbin. He helps you, guiding you up and off of his cock. You moan as you slowly start to feel empty with each inch of him that escapes. Once you’re free of his cock his cum spills from your gaping hole. He gawks at the sight, cock twitching at the way your hole clenches around nothing.

You waver a bit as you try to stand but he keeps you steady, holding you by your hips as you stand over him. He blinks up at you, his hazy gaze meeting yours. “Did I serve you well, mistress?”

You offer him a lazy smile. “Hm, I think you could’ve done better.” He freezes, eyes growing wide and that delicious smell of anxiety is rolling off of him in an instant.

“I’m sorry.” You pet his head, combing the messy hair with your fingers. “Don’t be sorry just make it up to me.”

“Of course, anything.” You take an unstable step towards him, relying on his strength to keep you steady. “Clean me up.”

His eyes flick down to your messy cunt, the mix of your and his arousal is slick against your skin and he holds back a moan at the sight. He knows that you’re fucking with him, you’re using him and it’s just what he wanted. This is the attention he was hoping for.

“Yes, mistress.”

Please Like, Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

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starmosaics · 11 months ago

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Mars in the 8th House pt. 2/3

If you haven’t read the 1st part here’s a link to the original post :)

Today I’m focusing on transformation, life and death situations and possible struggles with mental health and substance abuse.

Those with Mars in the 8H frequently face unforeseen events in their life which catalyzes incredible changes. Some of these events are catastrophic. These people can completely alter their lives by brute will or they will be met with challenges which push them towards making necessary changes.

Common events I’ve seen/experienced that pushes an 8H Mars towards transformation:

-Death of a loved one, loss of any kind

-Near death experiences

-A breakup/divorce

-Overcoming addiction

-Releasing/healing trauma

-Inheritance

There’s many times where these people feel isolated and left in the dark; some may feel like they’ve lost everything even their sense of self. Many 8H Mars individuals have experienced and been exposed to very difficult and painful events which is one of the most challenging aspects of this placement. Life has its ups and downs and for these people, that’s never ending. The most important thing is that they are so persevering and are quite determined to follow through to reach the other end after facing difficulties. I’ve seen people with this aspect go through hell and eventually got out of that dark place and became a totally different person; shedding one’s skin. I myself feel like I have already lived 10 different lives. The 8th House forcefully causes one to experience changes within their mental state, physical bodies, or spiritual lives; the 8th House can quite literally strip your identity causing you to have to completely build yourself up again.

These people may feel like they got the short end of the stick when it comes to certain situations that they've been dealt leading them to succumbing to their fears and experiencing chaos and disheveledness leaving them feeling trapped, but something to remind these folks is that when they feel like they’ve hit rock bottom, the closer they are to transforming themselves or an area of their lives along with gaining grit and profound wisdom. The 8th House wants you to go inwards, identify the parts of yourself or your life you can't face, to take the reins and evolve. Sometimes it requires metaphorically (sometimes literally, but hopefully not) dying first to become reborn.

T/W: Abuse, substance use, heavy topics mentioned!!

In terms of an 8H Mars’ mental health, there’s quite a distinctive pattern. As we’ve established earlier that what kind of experiences these people might face, the events that alters one's life naturally will heavily impact one's mental health. I know 4 other people with this placement (along with myself) who have some form of psychiatric disorder; most commonly Bipolar disorder, Paranoia, MDD (major depressive disorder), and BPD. Many have experienced events (commonly during childhood, teen years, and early twenties) that lead to signs/a diagnosis of CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder).

Substance abuse is also very common to those who have this placement. Either a family member of theirs struggled with it, or they themselves did. Everyone I know who has this placement including myself has either had a family member who struggled with addiction, or have personally struggled with addiction; sometimes both. 8th house represents something you inherit and unfortunately sometimes it's the inter-generational cycle of addiction. Substance use disorders and mental disorders are sometimes heritable. This isn't meant to scare you or make you feel bad if you have faced any battles with substances. Addiction doesn't have to be your whole life story, just a chapter. Those who I know who previously struggled with addiction and turned their lives around are happier than ever.

Here are some famous people with an 8H Mars that struggled with their mental health and substance abuse:

-Marilyn Monroe (Alleged Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Robin Williams (MDD, substance use disorder)

-Amanda Bynes (Bipolar disorder, abused stimulants)

-Sid Vicious (Showed signs of personality disorder, substance use disorder)

-Drew Barrymore (Substance use disorder, MDD)

-Courtney Love (Substance use disorder, Autism)

-Lil Peep (Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Anthony Bourdain (MDD, substance abuse)

More than half of these famous people also struggled in childhood due to the impact of their family members; Marilyn Monroe had a traumatizing childhood and was living in multiple foster homes and orphanages due to her alcoholic and schizophrenic mother being unable to care for her, Amanda Bynes facing sexual abuse by Dan Schneider as a child, Sid Vicious' mother was neglectful and gave him hero*n when he was a teenager, Drew Barrymore had a mother who influenced and fueled Drew's coca*ne and alcohol addiction before she was even 15 years old, and Courtney Love's father was deemed to be unstable and a horrible father. He allegedly gave her LSD as a child and also physically abused her when she was 17 after visiting him in Ireland.

I don't want to fully air this story out, but I had a friend who was like a sibling to me and their dad abandoned them during their teenage years and their mother was unable to work due to her schizophrenia and substance abuse; she would have us pick up cigarettes and get drugs for her when we were 16/17. This friend has experienced a lot of pain and is still struggling with their own demons and mental health and i'm no longer in their life due to their choices and influence on me, but I still think about them all the time. I wish them the best and hope they eventually find their way back to themselves. They're one of the smartest people I've ever met.

In my own personal life, my dad was never in the picture and my mother (who I believe also had an 8H Mars) struggled with mental illness and substance abuse, so I lived with my grandmother, who I eventually found out also abused substances, but was more "stable". After my mom passed literally from alcohol deteriorating her body when I was 17, I decided I had to keep distance from my family and moved out as soon as I could and since then my life has totally changed. I heavily smoked weed from the ages 16-19, I'm addicted to cigarettes, I am very wary about my alcohol consumption, and I inherited my mom and grandmother's mental illness. If it weren't for my upbringing, I wouldn't possess the wisdom I have today. Yes my childhood was fked up, but it made me immensely resilient. I have experienced life and death literally and metaphorically many many times.

I'm not saying that if you have this placement you're bound to struggle with addiction and have a tragic life story filled with trauma and pain, but unfortunately a more common thing I see in those who do have this placement have struggled with trauma, substances, abuse, and family dynamics. And like I said with the transformational aspect of the 8th House, many people overcame their demons and traumas. There's always an option for recovery in any scenario which is also associated with the 8H, and sometimes destruction (Mars) and chaos is needed for rebirth. In a less extreme manner, 8th House Martians may just struggle with generalized depression and anxiety.

Another thing I've noticed about those with an 8H Mars placement is that they let their anger seethe until it eventually boils over leading to an outburst. They may experience super intense meltdowns due to not healthily coping. Emotional regulation might be difficult for these natives in general.

On one end Mars rules destruction, conflict, death, assaults, and violence. On the other, it represents ambition, overcoming, exertion, determination, encouragement, strength, one's ability, and facing fears.

If you have an 8H Mars and faced any of the struggles above or anything similar and need someone to talk to you can always message me! I want this post to encourage the people who may feel stuck or are in a rough place that they can overcome whatever is thrown at them. Remember crisis comes first, then evolution and finally, total transformation. <3

In the 3rd and final part we'll go over struggles within intimate relationships 8H Mars folks might face and "taboo" topics these natives might enjoy.

#8h mars #8th house mars #mars 8th house #8th house #8h #mars #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #m

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

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homecoming ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader

a/n: i wrote this at like 3:30am 🦢

wc: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ MNDI, really light choking, dry humping, piv, some praise, oh and some hair pulling but i feel like joel miller smut = some hair pulling.. with me at least cus like.. THE CURLS (not proofread and much longer than intended)

okay so Joel coming back from a trip, maybe it wasn’t even super long, a week or so but nothing you guys haven’t weathered before.

but for some reason; maybe it’s been a long time since he was away from you for even a day.. Joel all but loses his mind without you.

it’s like he goes into heat or something. like his body knows that he can’t have you and suddenly its craving you 10x its usual amount.

he comes back late at night, near midnight. all the guys wanted to take shelter for the night, arrive at the community in the morning but Joel hadn’t mentally prepared himself for another night without you. he refused to go another night without you.

you’re snug in bed when he crawls in. you’re pulled from your sleep by the dip in the bed but you instantly recognize the broad chest pressing against your back.

you gasp and bury your hand in his hair as quickly as possible. you reach over his face as he gives your neck a kiss and presses closer to you, poking you in the back with a feeling you’ve missed.

“is this okay? i’ve missed you so much, love.” you only hum in response, arching your back so he can grind against the plush of your ass, an opportunity he graciously accepts. he groans low and rough into the back of your neck as he starts humping you. “we can stop if you’re sleepy, baby.. shit.” his arm comes to wrap around you.

his forearm stretches diagonally across your torso as he cups your blood with his palm, using you for leverage to grind himself more forcefully into your ass. “could- oh god.. mmm we could w-wait for— until the—”

“baby, shut up.” is all you mumble before twisting to finally devour his lips in a kiss that he whines into. whines

his frantic humping turns into purposeful grinding as you pull away. his breathing is more erratic than you’ve ever heard it. his eyes are shut as tightly as his hand is gripping your hip, surely leaving dents in your skin.

you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow in front of you, too uncomfortable with your body twisted but leaving your hand to play with his hair. “needed me this bad, baby?”

you try to sound teasing, dominant but instead the question comes out high and breathy, sounds as desperate as he’s acting.

all you get in response is a growl from Joel before his hand leaves your boob to flip your body around, letting you face him, letting you— for the first time— really take in his disheveled state.

his hair is mussed— definitely your doing, but his lips are red and bitten, presumably from holding in his sounds to not disturb the silence of the night. his eyes are blown wide, glinting with a crazed look as he grinds into you gently.

he has his hand on your thigh, your leg pulled over his hip do he can grind right into your core, sending convulsions throughout your body.

after taking him in you meet his eyes again and he crumbles. whimpering a loose form of your name before burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent as his hand coming to your lower back to press your body into his.

“i’ve needed you more that air, dove. been craving your soft body, your- fuck- your sweet sounds.” his voice gets high near the end of the sentence, only reminding you of his need. “swear i’ve been seeing you in the stars at night. m’losin my goddamn mind over ya’.”

his desperation is leaking into your veins now, the same way you’ve started to seep into your underwear, growing tired and teased with Joel’s incessant movements against you.

you stay silent, let him release wet moans into your skin as you take matters into your own hands.

you grab his waist band and pull the buttons apart so roughly you may have broken them. you keep up your urgent demeanor as you free his cock from its confines.

his hips don’t stop moving as you fumble with his pants, he grinds against the air, your hands and your wrists, anything he can reach.

he moans your name when you wrap your hand around him but his breath is stolen as you quickly pull your panties aside and shove him in.

he’s surrounded in your wet warmth before he can take another breath. the same heat he’s been dreaming of, craving, fiending for over the course of the past week.

his head is finally pulled from your neck as he sits up a bit with his hand on your throat, his index finger and thumb holding your jaw in place as he forces you to look him in the eye.

his brows are furrowed and there’s a look of confusion and a softness that feels like begging in his eyes. you’re waiting for him to scold you, remind you who’s in charge, that you don’t do anything without his permission first. but instead he just pants against you, incapable of taking even breaths as his hips twitch softly and against his will into you.

you hold his eye contact as your hands come to the base of his spine, pressing down and curving his hips into you, guiding his slow and gentle thrusts.

his face crumples in pleasure, all his features scrunching in as he tries not to moan into your face. his hand twitches on your throat before tightening again as he leans down to press you against his forehead before resting his cheek on yours as he finally releases all the sounds he’s been holding in.

first you get a guttural groan, something that sounds like it came from the depths of his chest; low and rumbling. as his hips begin to move on their own accord, his moans change. they become more urgent, short and cut off as he tries to catch his breath. every now and then it sounds like the first syllable of your name but he’s never able to get the full thing out. “there you go, sweetheart. just like that.”

you try and stay composed as you guide him but he’s ramming into your g-spot like he’s been searching for it for weeks. your brain is turning to mush, melting out of your ears. when Joel pulls his face away from yours, wanting to examine your state, he can tell. he can tell that you’re not all there, that you’re holding on by a thread for him. it fills his chest with pride.

you watch a lazy smirk slide over his face as his hooded eyes meet yours. “it’s okay, baby.. m’here now.”

Joel lifts one of your legs, gripping your thigh and pushing it to meet your chest. “you don’t gotta be all tough anymore.” it feels as though he’s opened up a new channel inside your pussy, like he’s reaching places that weren’t accessible before. like he’s reached heaven, inside you. “you can let go, darlin’.”

you explode.

its that godforsaken southern drawl of his. whenever he talks to you in his low, smooth voice, like pouring warm honey right into your ear, filling your brain with sweetness. you have no choice but to fall apart. you hadn’t even been aware of how badly you’d been craving him.

you knew you missed him of course, but you thought you’d be satisfying yourself decently in his absence.

you obviously had forgotten when your orgasms feel like when they belong to Joel.

it feels like your body falls completely apart. you don’t feel attached your limbs anymore. all you can feel is the warmth blossoming violently in your abdomen. your thighs shake, and Joel tightens his grip, wanting to feel the rippling muscles under his palm.

he watches your brows furrow as your eyes roll back. you go limp in his arms, your entire body relaxed as your soak his cock in your juices.

Joel fucks into you at a leisurely pace, forgetting his desperation in favor of watching you melt into the bed. but as he thrusts he watches you slowly coat his cock, giving him a milky sheen, an award for his actions and a reminder of your own craving for him.

it’s more than a punch in the gut, it’s like he’s been completely winded, like someone has punctured his lungs and crushed his heart inside his chest.

he gasps once and sees your eyes snap open to his, waiting and watching as his body folds in on itself to fill you with its seed.

Joel almost falls on top of you, his arm catching him before he lowers himself into your lips. he’s too busy moaning your name and praises to kiss you properly. he rests his lips against yours as his mind clears, blank and thoughtless, finally satiated after a week of driving him crazy.

his body weight slowly increases as he blankets you, his cock pulsing inside you gently, gently pumping pent up ropes of cum into you despite the small amount already leaking onto your thighs.

“love you s’much.” Joel mumbles groggily into your ear. his hand comes up to stroke your head, soothing you as he notices your rapid heartbeat. “you’re my perfect girl, y’know that? everything i dream of, everything pure.” you feel that terrifying warmth spread through your chest, that intense, buzzing love that blooms in your chest whenever he opens his mouth.

“i know, joey.” your hand slides out of his hair and down his back, scratching gently and relishing in the way you feel his chest rumble with a contented hum. “i love you so much more, y’know that?”

he chuckles softly before biting you semi-gently. “no way.” he sighs against your skin. “ain’t possible.” he licks over his teeth marks before kissing them.

his lips just barely ghost over the area as he falls asleep, his cock warm and soaked inside you.

a horrid surprise for Tommy when he tries to welcome his brother home with a “gourmet” breakfast in bed service.

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littlemissshifter · 4 months ago

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this is just a short little question but im curious, how do i not get influenced by the 3D so easily?? honestly i dont know why i find it so hard when ive been told many times that the shift is internal. i guess im just seeking physical proof. idk, i mean i’ve tried to think that if shifted and that there’s nothing else i dont need to do but deep down i dont really believe it and idk why.

No need to believe it forcefully. The hard truth is that you already exist where you want and this is all you need to know. Just remind yourself of it whenever you feel yourself going too deep in doubt. Tell yourself this with ease and softness. Don't be hard on yourself.

You also don't need to ignore the 3D at all. You live in this reality too. Live it. Feel whatever and think whatever.

Honestly there's nothing you can do to change the 3D except decide and live your life. There is no final method or realisation. This is literally it.

#𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 ౨ৎ #anon answered #anon asked #anon anon

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rwrbmovie · 2 years ago

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BTS of #RWRBMovie: NYE kiss

via Consequence:

It was important for Henry to be the grab-and-kiss-er in this scenario, Lopez says, because “there’s something very striking about a character such as Henry, who has spent up to that point in the film being very buttoned down and seemingly in control of his urges in that moment, losing the ability to control his urges and give into the desire to kiss Alex.” Plus, there’s the additional context of Henry being literal royalty: “There’s something very sexy and romantic about a prince dropping his guard. And taking things that are old movie tropes and letting two boys do it — that was definitely the romantic gesture that we wanted to go for.” Of course, on a practical level, the grab-and-kiss has certain practical elements to consider. “The only danger on set was that sometimes [Nicholas Galitzine] would come at [Taylor Zakhar Perez] so forcefully that they would just bang faces. We were really worried about fat lips and bloody noses,” he laughs. It wasn’t just the passion of the actors that was an issue, but the terrain — according to Lopez, “they were on a slope. So Nick was going downhill.” (Passion with a little help from Newtonian physics.) On set for this as well as the film’s other, more graphic scenes was intimacy coordinator Robbie Taylor Hunt, who oversaw shooting the kiss in two different ways: “We had one where Alex is completely taken by surprise and doesn’t respond to the kiss. And then we did Version B, where Alex is taken by surprise and then does respond to the kiss. Because I wasn’t quite sure what was going to work, so I gave myself the option of having both.” Process-wise, this meant rehearsing both versions and then shooting different angles and framings, which means “those lads kissed easily like 40 or 50 times that night,” Lopez laughs. “There’s nothing like having to kiss someone 40 times in a row to really, really take the allure out of kissing.”

While the grab-and-kiss is the best term I’ve been able to come up with for this maneuver, it’s not my favorite — if only because if you Google the phrase “grab and kiss” today, the search term pulls up very unsexy results. These unsexy results (including phrases like “attempted sexual assault” and “Donald Trump”) do serve as a necessary reminder of how delicate a balance one has to strike with this particular maneuver. As Lopez puts it, “there is a gray area and I think you see it in some older movies, in which they do the grab-and-kiss and it’s icky — it just feels not consensual at all, or very uncomfortable.” What’s so powerful about the grab-and-kiss is that it’s an embrace with purpose. There’s a backstory to it, usually one involving repressed emotions and deeply held longing. That was the strategy Lopez used with Red, White & Royal Blue, using the scenes leading up to the kiss beneath the tree to emphasize “the pull between them.” (Specifically, Lopez got what he calls his “West Side Story moment” during the New Year’s party, when a crowd dancing to Lil Jon’s “Get Low” does as instructed by the song, leaving a still-standing Henry and Alex to gaze at each other across the dance floor.)

#rwrbedit #rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb bts #bts #*#my stuff #gifs #rwrbbts #nye

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litmot-archived · 7 months ago

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isaac and pickle had a fight and now they have to kiss and make-up (and make-out if possible)

Overbearing

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

“Funny of you to bring him up, considering it wasn’t me who interrupted the meeting!”

Isaac rolled his eyes, huffing in exasperation at your furious expression. “Listen, ultimately, I call the shots here,” he said drily, his eyes widening as he saw the moment your patience snapped.

“Do you?” you snapped, restraining your anger enough to set the papers in your hands down and not tear them into a million little shreds like they desperately longed to.

You wanted to vent your anger, release some of the frustration that had been brimming in your chest and gradually morphed into annoyance until finally tipping over to anger as Isaac, overbearing and nosy, could not let you manage the single client who had ever asked for your services specifically. It made you feel like an incompetent apprentice and not a partner. You told him as much.

His stare hardened. “You think I’m overbearing?” he asked, picking up his cup of coffee. It was the coffee you had made him this morning, long since cooled. You pressed it into his hands with a kiss and demanded that he eat some of the cookies you had baked.

If anyone was overbearing, it was you. He was cautious.

“I said I could handle it, Isaac!” you said forcefully, gripping the edge of the kitchen table. Your fingers twitched, longing to wrap around the delicate paper and tear it to shreds. You were furious, glaring daggers at Isaac as he leaned against the kitchen aisle with his arms crossed, glaring back.

“I don’t care,” he snapped, eyebrows furrowing as he sat the mug back down.

You opened your mouth to reply, now properly pissed off. He held up a hand, and you growled.

“Whatever you think you can handle, I’ve said before that there are people out there who will try to get to me through you. Do you understand that? I can’t just let you— let you waltz around, meeting new clients on your own when they could be capable of anything!” he said, pushing himself away from the counter to walk towards you, setting his hands on the table — on top of the papers you had wanted to obliterate — and leaned closer to you. “You mean too much to me. I can’t risk anything happening to you.”

Your anger dimmed, switching back to frustration. You understood where he was coming from, knew his concerns were warranted, but that did not mean you liked being reminded of your inadequacy — at least in his eyes — to take care of yourself.

“Isaac,” you began, holding his gaze, “you can’t keep treating me as if I don’t know—”

“I know, I know,” he said, waving a hand before running it through his jet-black hair. The strands were tousled, speaking volumes about his own frustration.

“It’s been over a year, Isaac.”

“I know, okay!” he snapped, clearing his throat a moment later. He lowered his gaze, staring pointedly at the tiled floor of the kitchen. He hated losing the grip on his emotions, hated this burning need to protect and control and know. It was like an ache under his skin, crawling up his spine until he could feel himself vibrate with nervous energy when you were alone with a stranger.

All the possibilities of what could happen, infinite strings of ‘what-ifs’ twisting his mind until it was in knots, and he could do nothing but close his eyes and try to breathe through the dizziness that would fog his brain and take a sip of his coffee to stave off the numbness spreading through him before he inevitable caved, shuffling to the office and interrupting the meeting to make sure you were alright, to make sure it was fine.

The fact that you were no longer new in the scene, had earned your place by his side through hard work and your competence, did nothing to ease his worries.

He loved you; how could he be expected not to worry?

“I’m trying,” he admitted quietly. You were right. It had been over a year, and you deserved more than be his partner in name. It was just so damn hard to entertain the thought that you could ever end up in harm's way by the nature of the work he had paved your path in. “I know I can be a lot— overbearing—”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sorry I said that,” you said, stepping around the table to stand properly in front of him. “You’re not, you— just sometimes I get frustrated when you think I’m incapable of handling myself.”

“I worry,” he said, offering you both his hands, palms up. “You’re important to me. I want you to be safe.”

Taking his hands, you tugged him towards you gently. Isaac stumbled, letting out a noise of surprise that turned muffled by your lips against his. You kissed him sweetly, releasing his hands to cup his cheeks instead. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as if he were afraid you would slip through his fingers any moment.

Isaac always held you with such desperation and looked at you so reverently. Sometimes, you wondered if he was only waiting for you to disappear right before him, gone in a blink that would bring his world crashing down around him. ‘I need you here,’ he had told you many times. You wondered how acute this need was, if he would crush into dust and fall apart completely if you should disappear from his hold.

“I love you, too,” you murmured against his lips, brushing your thumb over his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “But I need my freedom as well, Isaac. I can’t live like a bird in a cage.”

“I know,” he whispered, tugging you against his chest and burying his face against your shoulder, breathing in your scent.“I’m trying.”

You could feel his heart beating a little too fast in his ribcage. “That’s all I ask, love,” you said, tilting your head to press a kiss against his jaw. “That’s all I ask.”

#a little out of the loops considering the last thing I've written was like three months ago maybe?#bear with me while I find my rhythm again #isaac rhoades #isaac rhoades x reader #sakuverse #zsakuva

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deeversuswords · 4 days ago

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‧˚₊ Truth Exposer 1: Uncovered — Ch.11

PAIRING — Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki/Vigilante F!Reader RATING — Explicit CONTAINS — heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n ◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too ◆ characters are in their late 20s SUMMARY — Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house. They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked. Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life. Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // ➥AO3 CHAPTER LINK // ➥TUMBLR CHAPTERS LIST

CHAPTER SUMMARY — Rainy days call for a visit.

CHAPTER WARNINGS — n/a

WORD COUNT — ~4.3k

The irritating ringing of your phone yanked you from dreamland and threw you straight into the ring of reality. You groaned, slapping around the nightstand, searching for the stupid device you’d meant to silence, but didn’t.

Midoriya’s fault.

His voice had lulled you to sleep last night, rambling through some story from his early teaching years. You couldn’t remember any of it; your focus had been forcefully anchored to the way he pronounced the words, to the inflections in his voice.

Anything to not think.

Without checking the screen, you thumbed it on and croaked, “Good reason, or I’ll end you.”

“Did I call the wrong number?” came Midoriya’s confused voice. “Hmm. Definitely not Kacchan.”

At the mention of Bakugou’s name, your heart jolted. Fluttery sensations spread through your limbs, making your empty stomach sick. A few days locked away in your apartment, avoiding everything that could remind you of him, hadn’t erased a thing. He was still there. Like a ghost that refused to move on. And your only solution so far had been pretending he wasn’t.

You rubbed your eyes. “Mido—huh?”

Words were too much. He’d have to decipher your hums, grunts, and whatever other suspicious noises you’d make.

“There you are! Sorry, but you have to see this—eh? Time? Almost seven in the morning.”

You rolled onto your back with a yawn, cracking one eye open. Gloomy light tainted your bedroom walls. Great. One of those days.

“What should I—” You coughed, your throat drier than a desert. “—see?”

“First, you have to accept…” He dragged the word out until a notification pinged in your ear. A video call request. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

“If it’s another waffle show-off, I’m blocking you,” you warned, but accepted.

His hair was still messy from sleep, expression easy, mouth curved in a lazy half-smile. Nothing inside you stirred when it would’ve if things were different, if the timeline—lifetime—was another.

“I offered to bring you one, and you refused.”

“I asked for the name so I could get my own. I’ve got legs.” Because if nothing had made him suspicious yet, your parents’ empty apartment, posing as your own, definitely would’ve. “You refused.”

His cheeks puffed like a hamster’s before he let out a long sigh and slumped further into the couch. Midoriya had learned quickly about your stubbornness and honed tongue, though it wasn’t surprising that he seemed used to it. He had existed in his life for years.

“Let’s meet up for waffles next week, then?” he asked, finding the middle ground.

In the aftermath of kissing him, you’d doubted whether friendship was even possible. The first text exchange that followed had been awkward until he sent a picture of the cat his mother had adopted. The tension, permeated by insecurity, shattered into a thousand pieces.

One text led to more. Then came the phone calls, timed to your mutual free time. Something casual, and much more convenient.

Brick by brick, the platonic connection was slowly built, but you never let yourself forget who you were, and who he was. Your guilt became the mortar between the building blocks. The price you paid for a sliver of normalcy, and, more importantly, to secure Bakugou’s safety, or his future punishment.

“If it’s the place you keep telling me about, I’m in,” you said. “So, what is it you want to show me?”

“The reason I’ll be late for work today,” he replied, chest puffed out.

The camera angled downward, and your cloudy brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

A crisply ironed shirt tucked into black dress pants. The creased front of said pants. His hand moving between his spread legs.

“Midoriya, what are you do—”

“She jumped onto my lap while I was having my morning coffee,” he clarified, affection sparkling in his eyes, while panic exploded in yours. “And fell asleep.” He scratched behind the cat’s ears gently. “I couldn’t bring myself to move, so here I am, stuck on my mom’s couch, doing something I usually wouldn’t dare—being late for work.”

“Teaching shift?” you asked, relaxing and melting inside at the sight of the cat, her chin and paw resting on one thigh, her tail draped over the other. Adorable little thing. She had a home now. She was safe.

“Hero,” he said. “Even though I should probably be grading papers. I’ve got a mountain waiting.”

You rolled onto your side, yawning away the last of your sleep. “Aren’t you exhausted? Do you even sleep?”

“Five hours, maybe?”

“Five?” You gave him a pointed look. “You know that’s not sustainable, right?”

His relaxed expression wobbled. “I know. But I’m alright. I catch up here and there.”

“You better.” A pause. “Has your mother picked a name for her yet?”

“Kind of. She’s thinking of Yoru.”

“Yo…ru?” you echoed, testing the syllables. “I like it.”

“And it fits, right? We found her at night. Her fur is…” He trailed off, glancing behind him as the faint sound of a door closing reached your ears.

Then came a woman’s drowsy voice, asking why he was still there.

“Got myself in a bit of a situation,” he told her with a short laugh.

You caught a glimpse of her behind him and did the one thing any normal person would do—duck below your phone’s camera. Breaking into places? Easy. Using your quirk for intel? Sure. Getting into fights? Child’s play. This?

This was hard.

Your stomach somersaulted like it was prepping for a trapeze act. Oh, you were about to be physically ill.

“Are you still there?”

No. You didn’t think you were. “Yeah. Still here.” A wave at the camera.

Could someone end you? Rescue you? Preferably a blond with thick biceps, an unimpressed look, and enough sarcasm and cockiness to last for years.

…Maybe not.

“So, um, my mom would like to personally thank you. Is that okay? I mean, you can refuse, of course. Please don’t feel pressured.”

Crap. This guy had a talent for landing you in situations.

“Give me a minute, please.”

You dropped your phone face down, threw the blanket off, and scrambled to your feet. Dashed behind the opaque glass partition that separated your bed from the vanity and walk-in closet. Snatched a crumpled hoodie off the floor and put it on. Tamed your hair into something presentable.

Two smacks to your cheeks, and you skipped back to your phone.

You could do this.

You were walking into this unplanned, undiscussed meeting with the mother of the man you’d kissed, and emotionally fallen apart on mid-kiss, all because of another man she definitely knew. Just your luck her son was childhood friends with your harbinger of ruin.

“Sorry about that.” Your voice became an oasis of polite pleasantry as you angled the phone, careful not to show anything that could betray your location.

Midoriya’s focus shifted from his mother back to you. “Uh, I guess I’ll let her do the talking.” Then his eyes flicked below your chin. He blinked. Slowly.

Mortification seized your nerves. Was there something on the hoodie?

You were about to check when his mother appeared beside him, and her eyes lit up upon finding you, brighter as she caught what her son was staring at, you knew where he got that kind look.

“Izuku didn’t mention you’re a fan of Katsuki.” She sounded delighted, as if meeting one of his fans were some kind of historic occasion.

“F-fan?” Your eye spasmed. You dipped your chin…

…and were greeted by the gravest of all mistakes: bold, black text outlined in orange, sliced through by a crisscross, winked up at you from across your chest.

“That’s Katsuki’s merch,” she continued, and you wished to disappear as your face grew hot. “Hmm, I think it’s the—”

“Autumn collection from two years ago,” you said in unison.

Silence descended, but it was too loud in your head, too hungry for your mask slipping, so you broke it before the clown got clowned, letting out a choked laugh and waving your hand. Dismissing.

“I’m not. It’s my friend who is. Completely smitten with the ass—Dynamight. So obsessed she’s handing out merch just to, in her words, ‘support his handsome face and awesome body.’” You bowed before the camera. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Midoriya.”

You thought the silence a moment ago was bad. This was apocalyptic. Both son and mother stared at the camera like confused owls.

Handsome face? Awesome body?

What was next?

Accurately listing the size of his dick, length and girth, because the bastard had been glued to your ass so hard you could’ve even counted the pulsing veins with your Quirk.

Mrs. Midoriya cleared her throat a few times, her easy smile struggling to stay in place. Her cheeks turned rosy as she pressed a hand to the side of her face. Your defenses trembled to their foundation.

For a moment, you saw her, your mother. Laughing or crying. Confident or anxious. Doing the mundane, or something just a little grander.

Frost crept into your heart, freezing over the chaos and pulling you back into its lonely depths, where it gorged on your warmth. Because you were present, constantly moving forward. And she was past, forever stilted.

She had once sat beside you in the same way Mrs. Midoriya did with her son. Shoulder to shoulder. Her hands clasped tight in her lap. One hopeful question trembling on her lips: ”Are you sure you don’t want to be a hero?”

“No. Telling people’s stories is heroic too.” Your answer. Your conviction. Even if you’d wanted what she wished for, it wouldn’t have been possible.

It broke her heart. And yours.

But when she held you afterward, what she never said was what you always felt: Who will tell yours?

“Um,” Mrs. Midoriya began, “t-thank you for helping with Yoru. Izuku told me you took care of everything.”

“Happy to help,” you replied. “Thank you for giving her a home. I’m sure she’ll be fine under your care.”

She glanced at her son and visibly relaxed when he offered her a small, encouraging smile, one she borrowed and passed on to you. “Izuku’s already spoiling her and me. His visits are more frequent now.”

“Mom!”

“He’s busy making the world better,” you said, noting the ruddiness in his cheeks as he looked away.

“He is,” she agreed, patting his shoulder. “If he could, he’d be out there every moment of the day and night, making sure no one gets hurt again.”

You nodded. Stayed quiet.

Someone would always get hurt.

Always.

“I’ll let you two talk,” she continued. “It was wonderful meeting you.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Midoriya.”

Once she was out of frame and Midoriya was alone again, you exhaled loudly and fell back against the pillows.

“Too much?” he asked.

“Maybe? I mean, it’s not every day I meet a guy’s mom before I even know his hobbies.” You teased, but the usual bite wasn’t there.

His head tipped back against the couch. “You kind of know one.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Back at the restaurant, I asked you about your Quirk because I was genuinely interested.” He shrugged. “That’s a hobby.”

Leave it to curiosity to lighten up your mood. You sat up, bringing the phone closer to your face. “Interested how? Do you, like, analyze Quirks in your free time or something?”

Midoriya’s eyes widened a fraction, like you’d stumbled onto one of his secrets. He tried to play it cool, fingers creeping up to adjust his collar. “Something like that. Any plans for today?”

The fast topic change extinguished the spark. Maybe he was uncomfortable talking about it, or maybe it was your interest that unsettled him. Either way, you let it go.

You glanced out the window, mulling over his question. Droplets dotted the glass, the cityscape muted by the curtain of somber clouds rolling in.

“I’ll probably head out. Rainy days call for visits.” A teasing grin tugged at your mouth. “Just have to be careful since Deku is late for duty.”

Midoriya let out a quiet chuckle. “You know I’m only a call away.”

You killed the engine and slumped forward, forehead resting against the steering wheel, breathing shallow and uneven. Rain battered the car’s roof, cascading down the windows like a waterfall, the world outside obscured by the wet curtain. The noisy pitter-patter denied you the silence to sit with your thoughts.

The columbarium building where your parents’ ashes were stored loomed not far ahead. Its presence meant nothing to some, everything to others, and something in between to you. Your mood shifted the moment you entered the area and recognized the streets you once wandered, questioning life’s fragility and death’s often cruel unfairness.

You didn’t understand the why then, and still didn’t. Nothing in this world justified why they had died so suddenly, so gruesomely, when it didn’t have to end that way. Your only consolation came from risking everything to tell their story as it was: human greed trying to sell itself as a tragic accident.

Your fingers clutched harder at the leather.

Loneliness drove you here after the call with Midoriya. Leaving your bedroom ended with your spacious apartment feeling like a tomb, its walls closing in on you. The atmosphere was no longer hospitable, chipping at your shaky defenses until dark thoughts crept through the cracks.

They were still creeping and crawling under your skin. Sinister whispers in your ear that you existed for no one but Ayumu. That if you disappeared, even the insignificant traces of you would vanish too.

No one knew whether you cried yourself to sleep. Skipped through your living room, humming some cheery tune, sunshine warm on your face. Whether you were sick or in desperate need of a long embrace that made you feel like you mattered more than anything.

Whether you fought the end for just one more moment, clinging to fraying hope that someone—anyone—would at least try to save you.

No comfort. No celebration. No watching over. No validation. And certainly, no salvation.

No one knew, and no one would know.

You reached for the flowers on the passenger seat and left the car. Outside, you shuddered in the nipping cold and braced yourself to be soaked to the bone. Umbrellas were a thing, sure, but inconvenient for the couple of steps you had to walk.

Copper leaves, the only splash of color on the otherwise dull pavement, drowned in the rain, their fragile veins unable to bear the weight. Your hurried steps spared them the agony. You crushed them to death on your way to confront one of the many things that killed something in you.

Entering the building, you acknowledged the receptionist with a curt nod and walked the familiar path to the room where your parents’ niche waited. A hollow ache spread through your chest as you held the access card to the digital panel. The double doors slid open, revealing the wooden-paneled room beyond.

The room was bare, save for a wooden bench off to the side and a few flower vases lining the walls, but rich with the cloying scent of incense. It made your nose scrunch up, trying not to think about what you were really breathing in.

Death’s fumes.

You waited for their niche to appear, listening to the faint mechanical whirring of the gears, your heart restless.

Loss and grief weren’t strangers; they were old friends made bearable by the passing of time. You were four when you met them for the first time, thanks to the Quirk you anticipated with childish excitement. It betrayed you.

“Curiosity killed the cat” stopped being a phrase and took physical form—you. One question. A single, uncontrollable surge of your Quirk. And your senses exploded all at once, giving the performance of your lifetime.

Innocence soaked in blood, screeching apologies to the endless hell of consuming sensations for being curious. Begging it to stop. To forgive. To protect you from the cold embrace trying to eradicate your warmth.

Succeeding.

You hadn’t meant to do anything wrong. But the girls in your kindergarten group were whispering and glancing your way.

You just wanted to know.

A soft sound announced the arrival of the niche, and you squared your shoulders, resisting the urge to crush the delicate stems in your grip. One day…one day you’d stop doing this to yourself.

Shakily, you placed the bouquet in the designated spot and opened the glass door to the small compartment, where the two urns stood beside framed photos of your parents on their wedding day and a miniature of the portrait hanging in their abandoned apartment. All that was left of their existence and the insufficient time you’d spent together.

You reached behind them. For the photo hidden from the world, and from yourself. For your worst reminder that prided itself on killing you every time you visited.

You let it. So you’d never forget why Truth Exposer existed.

The photo’s edges were frayed, dirty, and stained with blood—your mother’s. Beneath the grime, a younger, brighter you grinned like you’d won the jackpot, clinging to both of your parents. It had been taken the day you landed the interview at that damn TV station. A year later, it was handed to you by a police officer, her eyes full of tears.

“I’m not sorry. I don’t regret dragging down bastards to give others their chance at justice.” Your fingers hovered over the photo. “You weren’t there to see the aftermath. The resignation. The bitter truth that justice wouldn’t be served the way it should. That no one cared how hard they fought. I’ve never seen people beg for the ugly truth like they did.”

Your gaze wandered to the urns. “You two…weren’t really blessed, huh? Ended up with me. Were you ever disappointed? Did you regret me?” Pressure pulled at your throat, distorting your voice. “It’s okay if you did.”

Because you did too.

“I’m trying. Really trying to live a life that doesn’t feel wasted.” Your vision blurred, and you quickly wiped at your eyes. “Whatever you wanted for me, it’s not going to happen. I’m no hero, and I sure as hell won’t marry one. Or anyone. I can’t.”

Your thumb brushed over the dried, flaky blood.

“At least, I’m filthy rich.” Hollow laughter escaped your tight chest. “And making it sound worse than it is. I’m fine. Sometimes I get lonely, even though I have Yu, but I’m fine. I’m okay.”

You returned the photo to its place and closed the niche, its quiet click a harrowing twinge in your heart.

“It is what it is. A sacrifice has to be made somewhere.”

“Self-sacrifice,” a foreign voice corrected you from behind, and you swiveled, back bumping into the niche. The man leaning against the closed double doors reached for his oversized sunglasses. “A sacrifice involves someone else.”

Every single cell in your body seized with dread as his violet eyes pinned you.

How? When?

Focus.

“Who—”

“Let’s not do that.” He dismissed your unfinished question with a lazy wave. “You know who I am. We had eye contact. For two seconds, but we did.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I really don’t know. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an intruder. Please leave.”

Takumi pushed off the door and stalked toward you, each step jolting your racing heart. Up close, you could smell and taste the danger radiating off him, as if it were woven into the very fabric of his existence, sweet and alluring.

The man himself was a vision. Open trench coat. Two-piece suit. Gleaming shoes. Confidence carved into his face. A body ripped from some glossy magazine. He probably turned heads wherever he went, bewitching everyone in his path, yet he drank you in like you were the witch, casting seduction on him.

You stepped back when his hand rose to touch your face, making his violet eyes narrow. “Leave.”

He snickered, and the sound chilled you to the core. “Looks like you need a reason to play nice. How about Dynamight loses his memories tonight?”

Claws of fear hooked into your insides at the threat, their sharp tips dipped in shocking clarity. This man…he was the reason. The mass amnesia. Bakugou’s forgetfulness.

He was. He had to be.

And he had laid hands on Bakugou.

You crossed your arms, digging your thumbs into your biceps to rein in your instinct. He’d look like a dream with a broken nose and paralyzed by your Quirk. Not a sadist by any means, but you’d devour the sight like one.

“Dynamight? The pro hero?” you asked flatly. “I have no business with him.”

“He’s your weakness.” Takumi’s predatory gaze coasted over your body like the slow drag of a knife. “And you’re one of his. It’s easy to see if you know when to look.”

Sweat gathered at the back of your neck as adrenaline spiked, drying your mouth. Unease slithered through your nerves. When meant presence.

You had to force your tongue from the roof of your mouth just to speak. “You’re mistaken. I think you’ve confused me with someone else. I don’t know Dynamight personally.”

“So you don’t mind if I wipe his brain clean?”

The metallic flavor of fear flooded your tongue, horripilation erupting over your arms and legs. His Quirk could be anywhere. You focused your gaze on the space between his brows as your mind accelerated toward a plan. Takumi was dressed from head to toe, only his hands, face, and a bit of his neck were bare.

Eyes? How would that work?

“Like I said, I don’t know Dynamight. Please leave.”

You ran the tip of your tongue over the roof of your mouth. His bare hands, maybe? You wanted to laugh. Was this creep stupid? His fingerprints would be—No. They wouldn’t be.

Gulping the lump in your throat, you rolled your shoulders, spine popping, and clasped your hands behind your back. Your thumb slipped under your sleeve. Nail dug hard into flesh. One small, deep scratch.

Maybe you’d remember.

“Planning how to deal with me, darling? You have this look in your eye.”

He had one too. An intelligent glint, twinkling with the anticipation of you slipping.

“It was the sports car, wasn’t it?” You took a bold step forward. “Butt-hurt villain stumbles upon a rich person and cooks up a plan.” Scoffed. “I know my tires have a crisscross on them, but that doesn’t make me Dynamight’s fan.”

Takumi chuckled and mirrored your earlier movement, gait confident. “You can never be his fan because you’re more. So much more. Here’s a little spoiler for you,” he said. “Blondie wants you. With his dick or heart, who knows? But he wants you.” His tone dipped to mock-sympathy. “Tragic, really. Pro hero falling for a vigilante? Fucked from the start. Though, I guess that’s still better than hero and villain.”

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t calm your heart. Each harsh beat felt like a mini explosion going off in your sternum, the shockwave imbued with disbelief that adhered to that soft spot for him, making it an affliction without escape.

And you hated the candid joy blooming deep inside, spreading its hopeful roots far and wide.

This wasn’t right. This was yet another tragedy waiting to happen. You wouldn’t be a willing participant.

“You sound jealous. Been rejected recently? Or is it Dynamight?” Your hands gave up their mission, moving stiffly to cover your mouth as you faked a gasp. “Are you crushing on him?”

Takumi keeled over, laughing to his wicked heart’s content, the sound echoing with enough madness to make you question if he was sane.

Probably not.

There was something deranged in that laughter. Something unraveling at the edges.

When he lunged, slamming you into the wall beside your parents’ niche, hand clamped around your throat, you didn’t flinch. Zero surprise. Zero panic. Nothing for him to read and use against you to further whatever interest he had in you.

Click went off in your head like the safety of a gun. Dread crawled over your perspired flesh, leaving a trail of nightmares in which this unhinged creep was the main character. His business was with you, but he knew too much for it to be a coincidence.

A stalker?

He could be, and damn flawless at it. Easy for him to get away with the crime. Who would accuse him if no one remembered?

“Just so you know, I have insurance on my body. Leave a mark, and you won’t be just butt-hurt. You’ll be butt-whipped and broke.” You kept your tone dry, cemented in the unimpressed role you were playing. “No more two-piece suits for you. You’ll be lucky to afford a shirt and pants.”

Your memory, up until now, was reliable, right? Complete?

His hand closed around your windpipe until your lips parted for a mouthful of air, then eased up. “Crushing on Blondie? Please. There’s no lifetime where I’d personally care about him. Fortunate for him that you do.”

“For the last time—”

“Hurry up and find your way in, Truth Exposer.” His thumb bore down on your pulse. “I want us to meet. I want to watch you play. I want to see the chaos you’ll bring.”

Violet irises glowed with an eerie light.

No was expelled from your mouth as you tried to kick him off, but he read it, anticipated it. Takumi flipped you around and slammed you face-first into the wall, clamping down hard on your wrists.

“It’d be too boring if you remember our little chat. We can’t have that,” he whispered against your ear, inhaling you. “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out, Truthie.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, thrashing in his hold, and felt him smile.

“Trust your instinct. Who knows? It might be your soul remembering this.”

“No—”

taglist: @lunaryasha | @tomiokasecretlover | @fiselle | @5oftkitty | @lousypotatoes

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #x reader #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #female reader #dee writes #dee's: truth exposer series #truth exposer 1: uncovered

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kachowden · 2 years ago

Note

I’ve been stalking the Jessie tag for a while and I’m obsessed with the idea of his darling being a 6”4 beefcake of a man.

he gets drunk one time in a company party and grabs Jessie by the face and grumbles “why tf are you so goddamn pretty?? Your model is meant to be a male! For fucks sake, you piss me off”

meanwhile Jessie is overheating and blushing because of being (kind of) manhandled like this, ironically making him look prettier. His darling getting annoyed and running his thumb across Jessie’s lips and mumbling “stupid droid, so annoying”

This turned into a bit more angst then I originally intended, but I wanted to finally show the change in B7’s thinking and view of Jesssie as well as the shift in their relationship. Hope you enjoy! Nsfw minors dni

“The fucks wrong with you.” It’s a drawn out hiss that fills the androids synthetic ears, his eyes wide in shock as your form hauls over him, caging him against the floor of the small apartment.

“W..what do you mean B7…?” The stutter in his faux voice almost sounds authentic.

Your head cocks to the side, brows furrowed so deeply they nearly hide the entirety of your eyes.

“You’re too fucking pretty. What the fuck were your creators thinking? You’re a goddamn robot. You’re not supposed to…” Your words that fall into a blabbering slur, as Jessie feels his pumpers work over time, the blue energy that surges through his chords now shining a bright blue beneath his dark cheeks.

“I’m…I’m sorry that my design upsets you..” Why was he apologizing? He didn’t have a choice in his artificial design. But at this moment, as your warm hands curled around the fabric of his shirt, as they tugged and tore through his clothes, the only thing he felt he could do was apologize.

“Yeah…? You’re sorry..?” It’s a sneer, not a question. You’re mocking him and how could he possibly dislike it?

It happens so quickly. His standard issued clothes are torn from his body, the draft only recognized by his sensors, as his body shivers. It’s not from the cool air. It’s from the unstable shock that travels through his servos. He feels something shift beneath him.

—

His jaw aches. He didn’t know it could. But it does and he loves it. He loves feeling your cock, sliding in and out of his throat. The synthetic saliva, coating your length in a clear lube.

He’s so eager. Forcefully yanking himself off your cock to lick the tip eagerly. To suck, and beg you to cum in his mouth as he gasps and cries. Ruin his pretty face. Cum all over it please.

“No…you’ll look too cute then..”

He wants to cry. “Please…B7 please you can’t…you have to…!” The feeling of your fingers knotted into his curls is intoxicating, his own fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs needily. “Cum on my face…please..!”

You almost pity the bot. His eyes are glossing over so authentically, his skin is shiny with sweat. The only thing that disillusioned you to his humanity, was the vibrant and furious blue glow on his cheeks, that reminded you of the blood that kept him running.

That’s the part that killed any sympathy you had for him. It.

And that’s why the speed in which your cock hit the back of his throat increased cruelly. He choked and sputtered so realistically, you almost played with the thought that it was real, watching in a sick satisfaction as saliva dribbled down his jaw.

His fingers dug into your skin, as he moaned obscenely.

Your gaze caught the way his lashes fluttered prettily over his eyes, like this was almost peaceful for him. Like he so genuinely enjoyed this.

The thought made your stomach curl in a strange way. You had noticed the bots…fascination in you. You found it frankly insulting. This being, designed to be perfect, to take your job, to govern you, was intrigued by you. Because you were human. And entirely inferior.

The reminder was a slap across the face, and as your finish spilled into his throat, you couldn’t help but sneer down at the bot, who moaned excitedly around your cock, swallowing every drop, and seeming to even want to start again as he sucked the tip.

But you pulled away, forcefully pushing his head back as he followed your movement in an attempt to continue.

Glowing blue eyes peered up at you, like an abandoned pet just begging for any semblance of love or affection.

—

The feeling of your cock buried deep inside the droid appeared in a blur. Your hands gripping the perfect, soft skin of his hips, as he bent downward onto the floor, body surging forward with each mean and sharp thrust of your hips. The sound was real.

His cries, his moans, the sound of your skin slapping against his.

You could feel each squeeze and pulse of the fleshlight-like insides of the bot. You wondered why he even had such a feature.

“I hate you.”

The words came out suddenly, and your stomach coiled once they slipped past your tongue.

The bot hiccuped, a whimper that was so fucking sad sounding, it made you grind your teeth in frustration. But you took notice of the way it’s fans kicked on, and it’s voice whined.

“I-I know…” it sounded so small, as it whispered those words between moans.

Your grip tightened.

“Yeah? Because you know everything right? Because you’re so fucking smart right? You have all the information in the world, reading a simple, inferior human is like childs play isn’t it? Is that it?”

Your thrusts grew sharper, meaner, his pleasure wasn’t a factor to you in this moment. Not as the simulation of his ass clenching around your cock sent vividly realistic tingles up your spine.

“This is all a game for you and your kind. You’re so far above us, so much better, that you have to entertain yourselves with something imperfect. Something that has flaws and fucks shit up because it reminds you of how much better you are. Doesn’t it Jessie?”

Jessie could feel himself keen at the sound of his name from your lips, practically rolling back into your thrusts heatedly as he tried to regain some semblance of coherent thought.

As your thrusts continued to berate his body, the sound of pained sobs reached your ears, though your forced yourself to ignore them.

“I-I could never think you’re inferior…”

Your hips stuttered, eyes widening for a moment, heart hammering, but a growl surfaced past your throat at his pandering. You ignored him, gaze drilling deeply into the freckles that smothered his back.

“I wish…I wish I was human…b-because if I was human- you’d like me…I just want you to like me…” sobs retched from his throat, while his body moved to meet your thrusts. It sounded so emotional and strange accompanied by his desperate search for your touch.

“I want- I want to be human with you..y-you’re so perfect I don’t know what do with myself everytime I see you! B-But I’m a machine! I-I should be flawless b-but I’m not! I want! I want things and I shouldn’t! I’m not programmed too!”

The sobs begin to singe your weak human heart, your thrusts slowing a fraction as you listen. Why did he have to sound so fucking sad?

“…” against your better judgement, your hands left his hips, as your thrusts slowed entirely. Jessie whimpered in panic, worried this moment was over, before he was gently rolled onto his back, watery blue eyes gazing at you in confusion.

You stared for a moment. Taking in his pretty features..that slowly became more imperfect the longer you stared. Beauty marks, blemishes. A scratch on his upper cheek that almost looked healed. His nose was a bit crooked. You didn’t know if these were design choices or not.

But you could feel them tricking you, as you’d pushed the curls that clung to his tan skin away. As you curled your body over him, a much more intimated hold as Jessie gasped and clung his arms onto your back.

You began again, more gentle and kind, as Jessie moaned into your ear

It didn’t take long for either of you to finish, the pace from earlier having left you already sensitive. But you savored it.

“I love you…I love you so much…please don’t leave me…”

“….”

You ignored him again, simply holding his warm body close, as the bot shut down…fell asleep from overheating. Exhaustion.

Your head hurt. You were to tired to think about it right now.

You’ll confront these things tomorrow.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x oc #x reader #jessie oc #yandere android #x male reader

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jiniretracha · 10 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲 - Jeon Jungkook (3)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader / Park Jimin x fem!reader (but not quite, you'll see)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Future smut

Summary: You were supposed to spend your happily ever after with Jeon Jungkook... until a family issue causes him to leave and a sudden break up leaves you bereft in the arms of your best friend, Park Jimin.

Word count: 6.1k

PS: this is heavily entirely inspired in the last two episode of True Beauty (so consider this a huge spoiler if you haven't seen it) cause i've been a fan of it since it came out and I just had to do something about it lol

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi // SERIES MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3: 𝐢𝐦𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

Time stopped.

The cold you had felt minutes prior had vanished the moment you laid your eyes on him.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to check if it wasn’t your mind playing tricks at you. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He was staring at you intensely. His eyes were red and bloodshot, like he had been crying.

“Y/N?” he asked.

God, how you’ve missed that beautiful voice of his.

You blinked a couple of times once again, but this time, to keep yourself from crying.

“Y/N…” he repeated and walked towards you. He stopped til he was right in front of you.

You wanted to run.

But you were paralyzed. Utterly and completely paralyzed in your spot. You tried moving your feet but they were glued to the ground like they had been cemented.

Your eyebrows were pinched in the middle as your vision completely blurred with tears.

“I… I rushed over here as soon as I landed” he told you, his eyes getting teary as well, and he forced a little smile. “And you’re here”

You tried speaking but you could only open your mouth and close it.

He framed your face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks, brushing the tears that had fallen from your cheeks without you realizing.

His touch.

Oh, how much you had missed that warm touch of his. No man could ever compare to him because he had always held your face like you were the most delicate flower and he was afraid your petals would fall if he touched you too roughly.

You couldn’t concentrate on anything else rather than the pads of his thumbs caressing the apple of your cheeks.

“Your face is cold” he said, his tone was sad. “You’re freezing, Jagi”

Your heart soared in your chest at the nickname but you quickly grabbed his hand and pulled it forcefully away from your face.

You took a whole step back away from him and scoffed. “Why did you come back?” you asked him, staring at his chest, not wanting to make eye-contact with Jungkook.

Jungkook brought his hands to his side. “Because I missed you” he said as a tear ran down his cheek.

You let out a humourless chuckle. “But we broke up” you reminded him and more tears fell from his eyes. “No. You broke up with me. So, why would you miss me? We are not together anymore” you shrugged.

“Still” he insisted. “I missed you” he shrugged with a sad chuckle. “I missed you so much”

He stared at you for a moment and you did the same.

Jungkook stepped a little closer to you and tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away with a shake of your head.

“I… I didn’t miss you” you lied as you cried. His eyebrows pinched in the middle of his forehead and his chin quivered. “You can’t- you can’t just come back and say those things to me” you shook your head. “You can’t expect me to tell you that everything’s okay, Jungkook. That- that I missed you, too”

Jungkook looked down and let out a little cry.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair to me?” you cried as well. “Do you even know how hard it was for me? Everything. Not knowing how you were, how your dad was… not being able to have a proper conversation with you because at some point you just stopped replying to me”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t know shit, Jungkook. You don’t know shit!” you cried, pushing his chest. “I’ve been miserable because of you. Miserable!” you yelled while pointing at him with your finger.

Jungkook could only cry as you took out your anger on him.

“And the worst part? The worst part-” you stopped yourself.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m gonna go” you said with a broken cry, shaking your head.

You turned around and started running towards the stairs.

“Y/N!” he called out, running after you.

He wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

As you ran down the stairs, you felt him tug on your arm and you pushed him away. “Let go of me! I don’t want to see you right now, Jungkook” you spat.

You took two steps down and then gasped when a sharp pain hit your stomach.

“Jagi!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and back. “Hey, look at me, are you okay?” he asked, holding your face.

“No! Just go!” you groaned, still holding your stomach with your hand.

You took one step more and then fell to your knees with a cry.

“Hey, come on. We have to go to the hospital, Jagi” Jungkook said, sweeping you in his arms and holding you bridal style all the way down.

At that point, you stopped fighting.

For starters, your stomach hurt so bad you lost every coherent thought you had. And also, you missed his touch, even if you hated to admit it, so you were going to soak up the feeling of being in his arms, at least one last time.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook stared at your sleeping body as he sat next to your hospital bed.

He chewed on his lip while rolling his piercing with his tongue. His hand went to brush your hair out of your face and he let out a shaky breath as he stared at you.

“You shouldn’t be sick” he whispered. “I’m so tired of seeing the people I love… in a hospital bed”

He let his finger caress your cheek and his eyes slid shut at the feeling of your skin once again.

You stirred in your sleep and your eyes blinked open a couple of times.

Your eyes widened when you saw him, and then you recalled everything.

Namsan.

The stranger.

Your wallet.

Jungkook.

“How did I get here?” you asked, even if you already knew the answer to that. “What are you doing here? I told you to leave”

Jungkook frowned. “How could I just leave?” he asked in a whisper.

You sighed. “Leave, Jungkook. It wouldn’t be the first time anyways”

He shook his head, trying to shake off your comment as well. “I’m not leaving” he stubbornly said.

You sat up with a scoff. “Then I’m leaving” you mumbled angrily and yanked the blanket off of your lap.

A doctor walked towards you and smiled. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, digging his hands in his pockets.

“I feel fine” you said curtly, cursing the doctor internally for preventing you from leaving the room.

“What does she have?” Jungkook asked, standing up. “Is it serious?”

“Yes, and no” the doctor smiled at Jungkook.

“If it’s not serious then why is she hurting so badly?” he asked, raising his voice a little.

The doctor chuckled and looked at you. “Your boyfriend is fiercely protective about you, isn’t he?” he asked you.

You frowned. “He’s not my boyfriend” you shook your head.

“Right, my bad. Are you taking any sort of pills daily?” he asked you.

Your eyes drifted down to your lap and you nodded your head. “Yeah”

“Which ones?” the doctor asked you and Jungkook turned to look at you.

You blurted out the name of the pills that the previous doctor had given you the recipe for. The pills that helped you calm your anxiety.

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“Oh, are you taking them every day? Being consistent?” he asked you, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Sometimes, yeah” you said quietly.

The doctor hummed. “You should be taking them every day if a doctor prescribed them for you” he told you. “It’s important”

“I know” you replied.

“Okay, I’d believe that’s the solution to your stomach pain, miss. It’s important that you take them so they stop” he said. “Did you drink alcohol today?”

You licked your lips as you fidgeted with your hands. “Yeah…” you sighed.

The doctor hummed. “Well, you shouldn’t drink while being on meds, miss” he told you. “One glass of beer is fine, or wine if you like. But it’s for the best if you not drink at all”

You nodded again, feeling dumb.

“Alright, that’s all for today. You kids can go home” he smiled at the two of you.

“Thank you, doc” Jungkook said and then let out a sigh when he walked away. He sat down next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. “You’re taking pills?”

You scoffed and stood up from the bed. “Don’t act like you care about me, Jungkook. You can drop it already” you said and quickly walked out of the room.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jungkook called after you, following you out of the room.

He caught you in the hallway and you turned around with a sigh. “Let me go pay for this and we can talk, okay? Maybe I can drop you home” Jungkook pleaded, “You don’t even have to talk, you just need to listen to me”

You rolled your eyes and nodded.

He smiled slightly at you and it made your stupid heart do a turn. “Okay, wait here. Be right back” he said, digging his hand in his pocket to grab his wallet and walked towards the reception.

You eyed him and waited for him to be far enough away, and quickly made your way out of the hospital.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook walked inside his old apartment with a long sigh and turned on the lights. It looked a little empty but it was still looking like he had never left.

He felt defeated. He had not expected to find you. But at the same time, he was sad that you had run out of the hospital without having a chance to talk to you or even have you close to him if he had the opportunity to drop you off at your house.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, noticing it was his family’s employee, Mr. Hwang.

Mr. Hwang: I put your luggage in your room, sir.

Mr. Hwang: I didn’t get to give it to you because you left in a hurry. Where did you go?

He smiled at the text.

He had gone to Namsan because he was hoping you’d gotten to read the message behind the photo strip.

And you did.

You remembered.

Jungkook: It was snowing. It was the first snow

Mr. Hwang: Huh?

Mr Hwang: Sorry, sir. I don’t understand.

Jungkook: It’s okay, don’t worry.

Mr. Hwang: Alright.

Mr. Hwang: I parked your car at the garage. Left the keys by the table.

Jungkook: Got it.

Jungkook: Thanks for today.

He put his phone in his pocket and headed to his room.

Jungkook’s lips stretched into a smile when he saw the portrait by the nightstand, which had a picture of both of you, smiling big. It was still there after all this time.

You two looked so in love, like you knew that nothing would happen. And what a lie.

Jungkook sat on the bed with a little huff and took his phone out.

He scrolled down his contacts and came across yours.

With a click, he opened your contact and saw the call button, his finger hovering over it.

“Grow up, come on” Jungkook whispered to himself. “Grow some fucking balls”

He clicked on the button, calling you, and placing the phone up to his ear.

Meanwhile, you were sitting in your bed, back at your apartment, texting Jimin.

Jimin: you got home okay?

You chewed on your lip and replied to him.

You: just got back, chim

You: good night.

Jimin: good night <3

You smiled and then immediately frowned when your phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Jungkook was all you could read on your screen.

Your heart started beating wildly as you stared at your ex boyfriend call and you quickly declined it, throwing your phone on the bed.

Back at his home, Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at his home screen.

You had declined it.

He let out a little sigh and decided to send you a text. When he opened your chat, he saw the last message you had sent him, specially those last sentences:

I won’t contact you anymore.

I promise.

I just felt like this was for the better. Writing a goodbye letter to get closure.

So that we can get some closure.

So that I can get some closure.

Goodbye.

He shook the feeling off and quickly sent you the text he wanted to send.

Jungkook: You got home okay?

His fingers hovered over the screen, itching to send another text but he decided not to.

He had something bigger to think about.

「 ✦ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, Jimin had invited you to a restaurant you both often ate in for lunch. He had sensed you needed some cheering up, kind of like you always did, but for some reason, he felt like you needed it more than ever.

You were playing with your tteokbokki and when you finally threw it in your mouth, and started chewing it, you felt your eyes watering.

“Y/N, hey… are you crying?” Jimin asked you, placing his hand on yours.

You sniffled and shook your head. “It’s just… the tteokbokki is spicy” you tried chuckling.

Jimin frowned. “You’ve always handled the spice very well” he said, and threw a piece in his mouth.

You sniffled again and his eyes found yours. Now, you were fully crying. You lifted your hands up to your face to cover it, feeling embarrassed.

“Hey, you are crying, Y/N” he cooed, grabbing your hand as he chewed. “What happened? Did someone said something to you at work, did-”

“No, no, no” you shook your head.

Jimin made a confused face. “Then, why are you crying?” he asked you. “Did something happen?”

“I just- It’s Jungkook” you sighed. Jimin felt like kicking the chair he was currently sitting in. “I saw him yesterday”

Jimin pulled his face back. “What? Jungkook’s back?” he asked, his eyes widening almost like they were going to pop out of his head.

You nodded. “Yeah… and I didn’t want to see him. It wasn’t in my plans, but-” you cut yourself off with a sob. “I went to Namsan and I got your call, and everything was okay but then… he was there, I saw him there” you explained as you cried.

Jimin’s face softened.

“And I missed him. I missed him so much” you cried again.

“God, that prick” he muttered.

“He’s your friend, aren't you going to see him?” you asked him, wiping away your tears.

“He’s my best friend” Jimin nodded. “We’ve been talking every once in a while, when he was in the States and all, but… I’m not gonna lie and say that I liked what he did to you”

You nodded, eating more tteokbokki.

“I’ll probably go to his apartment later. Who knows” Jimin shrugged. “But tell me, did you guys talk or something?”

“He um… he took me to the hospital” you mumbled in a small voice.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? What?” he yelled.

“Shh!” you said, batting your hands at him. “Don’t shout!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, but please explain yourself”

“I had anxiety pain, you know, the ones that kick in my stomach” you explained. “And he basically grabbed me and carried me to the hospital”

“And did they-”

“No, they just told me to keep taking my pills… cause I kind of stopped taking them” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes, knowing that you were going to disappoint him.

Jimin scoffed, “Y/N, you know how important it is for you to take those goddamn pills” he scolded you.

“I know” you said, your voice turning small.

“And did you guys talk?”

You looked at him and shook your head. “No, he told me he came back because he missed me. And I didn’t fucking believe him. Then, I ran away, had those bad stomach pains, he took me to the hospital, I ran away from the hospital, and here we are” you said with a sarcastic smile. “But other than that? Nothing”

Jimin nodded his head. “I could talk to him if you wanted to”

You quickly shook your head, “No, no. I don’t want you guys to fight and stop being friends because of what happened between me and him. That’s not fair. You shouldn’t pick a side” you reassured him.

He looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you meant that.

“I’m gonna have to try harder now”

Jimin looked confused. “Try…?”

“Try to forget about him” you said, standing your ground. “Even if he’s around”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin left you by your building and drove off. With heavy legs and mumbling nonsense under your breath, you got into the elevator and punched the button to your floor.

You slumped against the elevator wall and tucked your head into the palms of your hands.

“Why is this shit happening to me?” you whispered.

The elevator dinged, meaning it had reached your floor and you walked out of it.

When you made a turn to walk to your door, you gasped.

Jungkook was there and he noticed your presence when he looked up.

“What a coincidence!” Jungkook smiled. “We meet here”

You frowned, confused to your core. “What’s this? What are you doing here? This is my apartment” you spat angrily and confused all at the same time.

He smiled at you again and you felt uncomfortable, feeling naked under his stare, making you shift.

You turned around and headed to the elevator without waiting for him to give you a response to your question.

“Where are you going?” he asked you, frowning, getting inside the elevator with you.

You didn’t answer him and punched the button to the lobby floor, trying to fleet away from there.

“Where are you going, Jagi?” Jungkook asked you, using that dumb nickname.

“Don’t follow me” you said sternly, trying to get as much space as you could, away from him.

“I’m not following you, I’m going out, too” he shrugged. “Another coincidence, don’t you think?”

You sighed and you felt like the elevator was going the slowest you’ve ever seen since you’ve lived there.

“Have you had lunch yet?” he asked you.

You ignored him once again.

“Can you at least look at me?” he asked you, his pleading voice making your knees weak.

You felt him walking closer to you and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“The first snow fell yesterday, why were you at Namsan?” he asked you and smirked. “You remembered me, right?”

You felt the doors of the elevator open and you basically jumped off, walking as fast as you could, away from Jungkook.

“Y/N!” he yelled after you, following you out. “Hey! Be careful with your stomach!”

You continued walking as fast as you could until you saw a taxi by the entrance of your building.

“Taxi!” you gasped and quickly threw yourself inside to the backseat of the car, shutting the door.

“Y/N!” he yelled and tried to get inside as well but the taxi sped off.

He let out a frustrated huff when he saw the taxi driving away.

He had to think of other ways to get to you.

「 ✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You walked inside the salon you were working at and went to the front desk to find Karina typing away on a computer.

She smiled at you and then frowned.

“Hey, bubs, what are you doing here? Your shift doesn’t start in two hours” she asked you. “What’s with that long face?”

“Hi, long story short, Jungkook’s here and he’s following me and I need to work or else I’m gonna throw myself under a bus right here and I really want to continue living, so please check me in” you said out in a rush.

Karina’s eyes widened like plates at the sudden bomb of information you dropped on her.

“Oh…kay” she nodded slowly. “Please explain yourself and give a little context?”

You let out a sigh and dropped your head. “Basically, Jungkook’s back”

“He’s back? You’re kidding me!” Karina gasped.

“No. I’m not kidding you, and I went to Namsan after our night out at the bar yesterday. I don’t know why I did, I just heard it was the first snow and- well it doesn’t matter” you shook your head, not wanting to give her that piece of information. “And I saw him there, and ever since then, he’s been following me”

Karina pulled her face back, like processing your story. “Wow, that’s… a lot” she breathed out.

“Yep, tell me about it”

“And he’s following you?” she asked you.

“Yeah, the man’s crazy. He was waiting for me at my door, at my apartment. And I got there and saw him and ran here. I didn’t want to get in my apartment and risk him getting inside too” you explained.

“You’re not scared of him, are you?”

You scoffed at the comment. “No, of course not. He’s harmless. But I don’t want to see him. I’m not ready yet” you explained. “He went radio silent for a year, why now?”

“Yeah…” Karina nodded. “I get it, girl”

You squared your shoulders and cracked your neck. “I need to get to work, Kari. I- I need to get my mind off of this shit” you exhaled. “Believe it or not, snarky bitches who demand you coffee is something I’d rather deal with than Jungkook”

“It’s reasonable. I’ll check you in, you go change” she said.

“Great, thanks”

You walked towards the changing room, and put on your work outfit. You rubbed your temples, trying to soothe down the uneasy feeling from before and got out of the changing room, grabbing your stuff and stuffing it inside your pockets.

Your boss appeared with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re early today!” she chirped.

You nodded and bowed your hair down a little. “Yeah” you said.

“Well, it’s good to have someone so committed like you in our salon. I’m glad. There’s a very handsome gentleman over there that needs prep, so… if you could go over there and give a helping hand” your boss smiled and walked away.

“Sure” you called over and walked out of the staff room. You weren’t about to tell your boss that it wasn’t that you were that committed to your work, you were just trying to escape from your ex boyfriend.

With a sigh you walked across the salon and saw the man your boss referred to, reading a magazine, his back facing you.

“Hello, sir, wel- what are you doing here?”

The man looked up to meet your eyes and smiled.

Jungkook was there, sitting happily as he pretended to be invested in a Cosmopolitan magazine.

“How did you even know I worked here?” you said, angrily but also surprised.

He just chuckled. “What a coincidence!” he smirked. “You work here? When do you get off from work?”

You scoffed and looked away. “Who told you? Taehyung, was it?” you asked him.

“It’s really a coincidence” Jungkook insisted. “Taehyung didn’t tell me anything”

You huffed, “You just happened to visit a beauty salon? You?” you arched an eyebrow.

“I mean it, I came to get my hair done” he said and smiled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Get your hair done and leave, please” you said.

After a while, Jungkook sat there, still flipping through the pages of that Cosmopolitan magazine, with his hair wet and freshly cut, ready to be dried.

The hairdressers were whispering about how pretty he was and it got on your fucking nerves.

“Excuse me!” Jungkook called and you turned around. “Can I get something to drink, please? I’m really thirsty”

You glared at him and your boss pushed your arm a little. “Hey, go get him a coffee, go!” she said hushedly.

“Okay” you muttered and went to make Jungkook the fucking coffee.

As you were preparing the coffee, one of your co-workers came to talk to you.

“You gotta give him some sweets for free, look at how cute he is” she whispered to you.

You faked a smile as she walked away. “Bitch” you muttered. You placed the coffee on the tray and looked at the sweets she had put there. “Jungkook doesn’t even like those-” you stopped yourself and rolled your eyes. “Who am I kidding? Why do I remember all this stuff” you said, grabbing the tray and walking towards Jungkook.

You placed the tray on the table in front of him and walked away, without sparing him a glance.

You knew his eyes were following your every move.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

After your shift, you walked out of the changing room with the clothes you had arrived in.

You walked down the hairdressing area and felt disappointed to see that Jungkook wasn’t there anymore.

Hold up? Disappointed?

You scolded yourself. You didn’t have to feel disappointed because he left. You didn’t have to feel anything for him at all. With a shake of your head, you continued your walk.

You said goodbye to your boss and smiled at Karina who was waiting for you.

“Everything okay?” she asked you. “I tried texting you after appointing Jungkook but you weren’t answering”

You sighed. “Yeah, I left my phone in my bag” you told her. “Thanks, though. Let’s go”

Karina linked her arm with yours and walked out of the salon.

Once you were out, you noticed Jimin was there, waiting for you.

“Oh my God, look who it is!” Karina smiled.

“Hey, Karina. Hi, Y/N” Jimin winked at you.

“Hey, Chim” you said. “What- what are you doing here?” you asked him.

“Let’s hang out” Jimin shrugged, making you pull your face back.

“Huh?”

“You agreed to go on another date with me, do you remember?” Jimin asked you.

You frowned. “Jimin, we literally had lunch together today” you told him.

“Yeah, at a normal, boring restaurant that we go to every single day, Y/N. Let me treat you to a fancy one” he smiled.

“Alright, I’m gonna go” Karina smiled, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you, babes, bye!”

You waved at her and clenched your hands, an anxious habit you had.

“So?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. “Do you accept another date with me?” he asked and then stepped in front of you, grabbing your face. “Don’t think about anything else today, just about me. Okay? Let me take your mind off for a little while”

You pressed your lips together and nodded your head. “Okay, what are we doing then?” you smirked at him.

He let go of your face and stepped back a little. “Just trust me and follow me” he chuckled, offering his arm.

You curled your arm around his and gave him a strange look. “Okay… don’t you sound like a total creep right now”

Jimin just chuckled and led you to his car, speeding off to wherever he was going to take you.

Just as you drove off, Jungkook had turned the block and walked inside the salon with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

He smiled at them as he smelt them and looked around for you.

But as he looked around, he couldn’t find you.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh and turned around, just to find Karina walking back inside the salon, looking for her phone, apparently.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Jungkook and walked towards him.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” she asked him and then looked at the bouquet.

“I’m looking for Y/N” he replied.

“Oh, she just left… with Jimin” She added.

Jungkook felt his stomach dropping.

Jungkook wasn’t an idiot. He knew how much Jimin liked you and pined over you while you obliviously held him there next to you as a friend.

He was going to be damned if he took you away from him.

「 ✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐲: 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You sat by a bench with Jimin next to you as he helped you put on your ice skates.

“Why did you choose ice skating out of all things?” you asked him.

Jimin chuckled. “I heard it’s something guys do when they wanna take the girl they like out on a date” he smirked, finishing the tie on your skates. “You know the cliché. If she falls, you help her up”

You pushed his shoulder, earning a laugh from him. “You watch way too many rom-coms, Jimin” you told him.

“Well, you can skate and flirt all at once” he shrugged.

“I’m not good at skating. In fact, I’ve never done it before” you told him.

Jimin looked at you with wide eyes. “Really? Me neither!” he said with a smile.

You pulled your face back. “Eh?”

“Yeah, I’ve never skated before” he shakes his head. “We gotta see, then” he shrugs and stands up.

Jimin offered his hand and you eyed it with hesitation.

“If I fall and hurt myself, I’m killing you” you said and grabbed his hand, earning a little chuckle from him.

Once you got on the rink, you easily caught the vibe of it and simply skated freely. Jimin, who had lied to you and was an excellent skater, started thinking of ways to get to ‘fall’ and he started moving his arms in the air.

“Whoa, whoa!” he gasped and you grabbed his arm, stabilizing him.

“Hey, be careful!” you said, he grabbed your waist.

He chuckled at you and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him to skate.

“You said you never skated!” you yelled at him. “You tricked me!”

“Welp, I lied” he shrugs with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Help me, come on. I look like Bambi on ice” you said and he laughed.

“Come on, do this” he said and showed you the moves he made with his legs.

“Like this?” you showed him and he nodded. “My God, I probably look ridiculous” you muttered.

“You’re great, look at you!” he chuckles. “You’re a fast learner, Jagiya!”

“What? Oh!” you said, and then regretted stopping, because your skate slipped and you fell flat on your ass.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelled and quickly crouched down. “You alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m- I’m okay” you winced. “I think I hurt my palm, though”

He helped you up and after a few minutes, he walked you out of the rink. You sat on a bench holding your hand open as he wiped the ice with the sleeve of his coat.

“Does it hurt?” he asked you, rubbing your wrist.

You shook your head. “No, no, I just skinned myself a little. But it’s fine” you said with a smile.

“Wait-” he said and dug his hand in his pocket, taking out a little band-aid.

You frowned, confused as to why he would have a band-aid in his pocket.

“Do you remember, last month, when you and Karina got so drunk that me and Tae had to carry you back home?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah… why?” you asked.

“Well, you went home with a scraped knee, because you fell. I had to buy some band-aids for you and well, I guess I never took them from my pocket” he told you.

“You were the one who put the band on my knee?” you asked with a smile.

“That was me, yeah” he nodded. “You fell trying to climb a bending machine”

“Oh my God, I don’t even wanna ask” you mumbled.

“Let me put the band-aid on you” he said.

You watched him as he took the lids out and you sighed, grabbing the band-aid.

“Let me put it on myself” you huffed and placed it on your palm.

Jimin gave you a look and nodded.

He was spiraling inside. He wanted to make you comfortable, and let him dote you. Let him take care of you like you deserved.

Jimin wasn’t going to lie to himself, but he was pretty pissed off at Jungkook. He had been when he broke up with you, for making you sad. And now that he was back, he was pissed off he had shown up and was willing to take you back like nothing happened, just when he had found the courage to take you out and confess his long time feelings for you.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked away.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An hour later or so, you found yourselves at a restaurant, eating some ice cream to finish the date.

“You know? I should’ve ordered something more fancy for us” Jimin said as he took a bite from the red velvet cake.

“No, it’s really good. I haven’t had a cake this good in a long time” you groaned, eating more cake. “And honestly? All the sweets I’ve been eating are just shitty licorice strips from the convenience store. Let me enjoy it” you scold him.

He chuckles at you. “Whatever you say, Jagi”

“Stop calling me that” you said immediately, your face flashed with an angry look.

Jimin’s smile fell. “Oh, I’m- I’m sorry” he stammers, feeling flustered at you calling him out.

You let out a breath, feeling like shit for spatting at him like that.

“I’m sorry, Chim” you sighed. “I just… don’t like that pet name” you lied.

You forgot Jimin knew you like the palm of his hand and could sense when you were lying.

“Did Jungkook call you that?” he asked you in a soft tone.

You looked at him and then back at the cake. “Yeah” you said in a small voice.

“Figured. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel-”

“It’s okay, Chim. I know you didn’t” you smiled at him. “Can we please change the conversation topic? I feel like we can’t ruin this hell of a cake talking about Jungkook”

Jimin nodded with a genuine smile. “Yeah, let’s do that”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook parked his car in front of your building and sighed as he looked at the entrance.

“Please, give me a chance” he spoke against the steering wheel. “Please, please” he whispered again.

He got out of the car, without noticing the car that had just parked in front of your building.

“You didn’t have to drive me home, you know?” you asked him as you got out of the car and he did as well. “I could’ve just called a cab”

He chuckled. “Y/N, this is a proper date. It wouldn’t be gentleman-ly to not do that” he said.

You cocked your head to the side. “Is that even a word?” you asked Jimin.

“I guess not” he laughs.

“Well, we’re here. Thank you for… well, everything” you exhaled. “I feel like I don’t deserve it”

Jimin walked closer to you. “Y/N…” he said lowly.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a hug. He had a hand on the back of your head and the other one, resting on your lower back.

You let out a gasp, in surprise and hugged him back.

“This is nice” he whispers.

“Yeah…” you tried convincing yourself.

Jimin looked up, only to find Jungkook in front of him on the opposite sidewalk, staring at the scene.

He was wearing the most heartbreaking face, and Jimin hated to admit, but it hurt seeing his friend looking like that.

But you were single.

And he had waited a long ass time to finally have you like this in his arms. And maybe you didn’t feel the same, but he was going to try his best to prove to you that he was a better match.

Jungkook’s shoulders visibly dropped as he stared at you.

Then, his eyes narrowed.

What was Jimin doing with his girl?

How dare he?

「 ✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ✦ 」

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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