#a whOLE ASS SERIES HELLO?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseoksluna · 7 months

Text

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too.

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it.

He doesn’t think you could.

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts.

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it.

You don’t say anything.

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately.

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery.

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly.

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head.

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting.

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.”

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view.

Hobi.

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air.

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back.

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you.

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery.

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red.

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage.

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way.

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one.

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you.

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched.

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead.

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip.

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.”

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel.

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name.

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room.

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.”

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin.

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else.

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add.

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away.

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.”

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all.

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands.

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely.

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again.

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.”

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness.

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.”

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod.

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled.

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light.

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty.

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot.

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin.

His heart jumps.

“I didn’t catch that, baby.”

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.”

Your words tell him a lot of things.

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home.

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are.

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it.

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.”

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters.

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.”

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes.

“Make me forget about tonight, please.”

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you.

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling.

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb.

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can.

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.”

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay.

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night.

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.”

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit.

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body.

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care.

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you.

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.”

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit.

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity.

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy.

“Oh my god.”

Serves you fucking right.

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.”

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?”

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.”

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens.

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires.

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes.

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked.

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes.

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over.

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside.

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.”

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more.

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.”

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten.

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough.

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette.

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine.

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.”

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you.

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.”

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before.

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates.

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty.

Wants you to get used to it.

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching.

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you.

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance.

When he penetrates you there, you scream.

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again.

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do.

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want.

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm.

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same.

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart.

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy.

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is.

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out.

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it.

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in.

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted.

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled.

A dream come true. A desire gratified.

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you.

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much.

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?”

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair.

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.”

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.”

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore.

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?”

“Fast.”

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?”

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.”

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes.

One person. One mind, one heart.

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good.

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies.

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you.

Gives you all of his cock.

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you.

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?”

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy.

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?”

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it.

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs.

“No, feels good.”

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?”

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair.

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe.

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.”

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too.

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead.

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off.

He pounds into you.

You’re no longer smiling.

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard.

Merciless.

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone.

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you.

Who is he to say no to you?

“You just want it bad, don’t you?”

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him.

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.”

The air grows dense.

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has.

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned.

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum.

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning.

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you.

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?”

You sound just like him.

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down.

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in.

With a barrier in between.

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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devil-in-hiding · 23 days

Note

(Im not sure if tumblr ate my ask the first time so I figured I’d resend - pls just ignore this if the other one did send 😖) hello!! I really love your writing and have re-read the on the run series maybe 100 times 😅 I normally never submit stuff since I’m not really a writer but I really loved your series and wanted to contribute! 😊

So I loved the idea of the boys adjusting to the security of the farm and getting all beefy and stuff as they settle in, but I was also thinking about farmer reader also starting to relax a little now that she’s got these guys to keep her company, protect, help, etc…. So she also starts putting on a lil bit and it drives the guys nuts 🫠

Like she goes to put on her regular sun dresses and price can’t help but notice how tight it fits her and shows off her figure. Gaz comes across her old clothes (and bras and stuff 👀) being put out to donate as she looks for bigger sizes. Ghost is standing behind her when she bends down to pick up something and can see the fabric stretch across her ass. Finally, soap walks in as she has to jump to put her now slightly too tight jeans on 👀👀👀

Anyway that’s all I had to contribute!! Love ur work (and you!! 😗) 😊💞💗

anon i adore this!! i am sorry i remember seeing this but i believe it got lost in the flood 😭😭

but YES! you have to cook for 5 now, and they’re big boys!! so big portions, and they scold you if you try to give yourself tiny portions, Price also refuses to let you make their plates (it’s a war because you like doing this for them, it’s.. domestic…)

Please if Price couldn’t keep his hands to himself before he is 10x worse seeing how some of your favorite little dresses hardly reach your knees anymore

all the boys watching you load up the truck with donation bags for the little thrift store in town, enjoying the way you hop to shove the last bag in the cab “gee guys, thanks for the help.”

however the sack with all your too small panties? oh those were free game that Gaz snatched right out of the burn pile and the four of them laid them out, snatching up their favorites

Ghost is the worst about putting things in high places so he can watch the way your tits bounce whilst trying to grab it, whining at him to “please just grab it for me! Ghost!”

Soap is the groper, can not control himself whenever you decide to slip onto the couch with him, pulling you to his chest as he adjust y’all’s positions until you were leaning back into him, his hands squeezing your belly appreciatively

ugh i love this and i do not have the brain cells to tell you how MUCH but they love watching their sweet little farmer plump up, tension easing from your shoulders ass the months start to blur together, no longer having to carry the whole farm by yourself

#on the run #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #cod gaz #cod price #cod soap #cod ghost #call of duty x reader #kyle gaz x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader

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darthfighter · 3 months

Text

it’s you.. isn’t it?

Chapter Two of Your Shadow Series

warnings: violence, tension, & sexual tension if you squint 🫣

summary: since the encounter with the stranger, you stay on edge while trying to heal your wound from the night before. but it seems as though the man you met the day before can help you?

word count: 2.7k

authors note: part two is here!! i’m so excited to continue this series :) i have so many ideas for it. lots of hcs. future chapters will have smut in it don’t worry, just need to build development first.

part one here

Back against your bed, bottom numb from sitting for so long, and hands shaking on your lap. You have been alert since your encounter with this Stranger. You anxiously have been waiting for their return, but it has yet to come in the past fourteen hours. Meaning you haven't slept a wink this whole night. Now, it being morning, your stomach ached for food while your left arm throbbed in pain.

Your arm was still unhealed. Frustration was an understatement on how you were feeling. To be able to use the force, but only for a short amount of time due to your lack of experience with it lately, made you angry to no end. Healing your arm with your force wasn’t an option. Although that didn’t stop you repeatedly trying every thirty minutes. But no matter what, your arm was injured.

You could feel your anger burning in your chest. Never could you run away from your past no matter how much you stomp your feet. Healing never brought you any comfort even though that is its purpose. Flashes of your memory play in your mind as you are in your most vulnerable state. You remember your brother, laid on his bed in the room you both grew up in. His clothes are ragged and dirty and his hands calloused while he has oil under his fingers. He’s tired. But there you are. Young and in your clean Jedi robes. You tower over him in the bed feeling the sting in your heart like he personally dipped his hand through your skin, to your muscles, through your ribs, and tightened his grip on your heart. Your young hand hovers over him, shaking, while your brother laid, unmoving. You begin to heal him.

But here you are, older, hurt inside, and wounded outside. Incapable of healing yourself. You inhale through your teeth and hold your breath in anger. Hot tears leave your eyes. You know if you let yourself let go with your feelings, you won't be able to stop.

You take that as a signal to get off your ass to get something to eat and after your meal, you’ll find some medicine in town.

After your quick snack, you start to walk towards your small chest where you keep your credits. Thirty. Thirty credits is all you have. You haven’t been able to find a suitable job since moving to Olega, so you’ve been living off of your savings. You start to wonder what Maker forsaken place will even accept thirty credits for something to heal you. But looking for a place that will, is the only option you have.

You march outside your home, ready to scout the area.

Five places rejected your offer. Five places let you down. Five times have you almost broke down in disappointment. This took a toll on you. You have gotten to the point where you shuffle your feet through the dirt covered streets slowly. Feeling your motivation start to fade out of you. Your feet stop. You’re in the middle of the street, hungry yet again and still in pain. You start to contemplate if you should turn around and make your way home. Although that thought brought you fear at the mere chance of this Stranger returning once more.

A loud crash echoes through the street to your right. Your attention shifts to the sound to see the man you saw the day before in these streets. This time, he seems more lively than before. That being because he speaks before you do this time.

“Hello!”

You accept this greeting by walking towards him while holding your left arm with your right hand. Now, you stand before him in front of his shop. But before he can speak again, you ask a question. “Do you know a place nearby that has a reasonable price for medicine? Not too expensive.. I uh-” You finish the sentence by moving your hand to reveal your burn. The man responds with an over exaggerated wince.

“Actually..” The man walks back into his store while finishing his sentence inside “I have just the thing.” making the rest of his statement sound muffled.

You shake your head in amusement, but also feel the weight off your shoulders leaving knowing your mission to find medicine is now over.

Walking inside, you see all sorts of items. Gadgets, antiques, even weapons. Him rummaging through his cabinets and drawers is all you heard. While also listening to his quiet mumbling. “Just a second… I just had this.. damn thing..” His voice is low and smooth. The rummaging stops as he holds what he was looking for. He starts to walk towards you and motions you to sit on the counter.

“Right now? Shouldn’t I pay you first?”

“You can pay me after.”

“But you didn't say how much this is!”

“How many credits do you have?”

“Only thirty-”

“Perfect!”

He walks more towards you, you walk backwards and clash with the counter. Your heart begins to thump against your ribcage, and your nervous shaky hands hold you up so you can sit on the counter. Like he told you to.

He starts to make his way closer to you, positioning himself in front of you. Making this the closest he's ever gotten to you. His hand reaches your left arm, but before he rests his hand on it, he looks at you for approval. You nod your head softly and he gently touches your arm. He then pulls down your tear to give your injury more access to the bacta spray. Then, he sprays the bacta onto your arm making you flinch from the instant feeling it gives.

It felt cold. The cold that hurts.

You begin to slightly pull away from the spray and it makes him hold onto your arm tighter, to hold it in place. “Just for a bit more, I'm almost done.”

You swallow your pain while the man looks at your expression. As the spray scans your burn, he scans you with his eyes. You can feel his gaze on you, and you close your eyes to distract yourself.

“Alright. That should be all good now.”

He sets the bacta spray on the counter but his hand still lingers on your arm. Realizing this, you open your eyes to check in on your arm. He lets go and scans your whole arm this time. His eyes set on your hand.

“Looks like you already got one of these, huh?”

You pull down your sleeve in embarrassment. As well as the fact you don't want to explain to a random person that you got the scar in your padawan days.

“Thank you, for this. You have no idea how close I was to giving up. Everything is so expensive these days.” You lift your bottom off the counter to stand up. Now, you are close to the man and feel intimidation while also having a hint of curiosity in him.

You put your hand out for him to shake, and introduce yourself. His hand meets yours and you immediately feel something. It feels as though holding his hand felt like you were on the edge of a cliff. You feel energized. Your heart thumps against your chest. You look up to him and he has a certain look on his face. It’s like the one you saw before in the street.

“I’m Qimir.”

—

The best plan you can muster out of your head is to scout your own home on your neighbors roof. From this view you’ll be able to see the Stranger come inside your house. That is if they decide to come again tonight.

So here you are. With your black robes to help your disguise. Even though there were no people around you, you felt a bit silly on how paranoid you looked. Although you shut those feelings down remembering you are fearing for your life. You felt like it was justified at least a little bit.

Time passed and you started to feel yourself grow less alert. You scouted the area less and less, and let your blinks last a bit longer than you should’ve.

Then suddenly, it feels like time froze. One second you're tiredly looking at your home, and the next you are lighting your lightsaber on instinct. The instinct being the Stranger attacking you from behind with their own lightsaber. Immediately you block their attack and your lightsabers illuminate a bright light on the rooftop. The lights reflect off their helmet giving you a better view of them on this dark night.

You lift off the ground to get ready for your stance, but you start to feel your knees shake before you out of fear.

“Your tolerance has weakened.”

You feel offended by this, even though it is entirely true. You launch yourself towards them and sway your lightsaber. The two of you match each other's blocks, and swift your wrists together. Once you get an ounce of a break from your physical conflict, you observe them. The way they are walking, the way they’re tilting their head at you, and the way their voice stays smooth like they aren’t even fighting you.

“I sense so much pain. Suffering.” They force pull you close to them and you position your saber in front of you, which helps you block their attack. Now, the two of your lightsabers are crashing together inches away from both of your faces, they finish their sentence– “Anger. You just don't know where to put it.”

Fire then left your throat turning into a scream. You know this will bring attention to your neighbors and people around you, but you don't care. You put all of your frustration into your force push causing a distance between you two. You know they are right. They’ve been winding you up with their antagonizing that it’s making your blood boil, and it's clearly giving you more power to the force than before.

You start to huff from exhaustion but know you need to stay on track. You want this all to end. The taunting and the fear. Enduring another minute of fighting with whoever this person is and them reading your thoughts is too much to bear.

The masked Stranger lunged towards you, and the two of you duel together. You move your lightsaber to attack, to only have them raise their arm to block it causing your lightsaber to give out.

The panic sets in. They take a big step forward and sway their saber towards you, but you move out of the way just in time. You start to back away, and look down to your saber. It’s flickering with purple shining in and out.

“It’s easier to let it out. I can help you.”

“Get out-” Your lightsaber lights back up on its own and you form your stance before your strike. “-of my head!” Your feet stomp towards the stranger and the two of you crash together again. A block here. A clash there.

There is a moment in your duel where they are able to grab ahold of your arm, and headbut into your saber. Causing it to give out once again. In this moment, it’s the first time they’ve touched you. But there is something about their hand on your arm that feels familiar. You're on the edge again. You feel as though you're looking over on a cliff, feeling the adrenaline. The shop. The medicine. Qimir.

Your eyes squint towards their helmet as though you can see through it. This causes them to push you away from them. You can feel the panic radiate off of them.

Again, your lightsaber lights but you have it lowered to the side of you. You have given up fighting at this moment because all you want is an answer. The answer being if this person before you is Qimir.

With heavy breaths you say “It’s you.. isn’t it?”

They dont answer, but only slowly take slow steps towards you. You feel like the fighting is over and you start to let your guard down. Although your saber stays on. Now, the Stranger is in front of you. Tilting their head. But then, they sway their legs under yours to sweep you off your feet.

Your back stings at the immediate pain of hitting the floor. The Stranger then strikes you, and all you see is red. Until you force block their attack and hold their lightsaber in place. The saber vibrates in front of you and they are temporarily frozen. You needed to take advantage of it. You kick your foot against their shin and they fall to the floor. This time, you know their helmet causes your lightsaber to short circuit. So, you turn yours off and use the hilt of your saber to strike their helmet. You hit it three times until it crashes to the floor.

You bring your feet into a crouch to stand up. They do the same. Both of you stand up together, in sync.

“You..” You faintly say, like a whisper.

His face is still and precise. The same face you saw before, but it looks like you're looking at a different person.

“You feel it too, don't you?” His voice isn’t modulated this time. If anything, it feels more intimidating than before. You stay silent and frozen. “Mm. You don’t have to answer that. I know you do.”

“You know nothing about me.” You spit back.

“Don't let your fear blind you to what you feel.”

You stare into his eyes in the hopes to read him like he's reading you, but all you get is nothing. His door is locked and you can jerk the knob all you want, but it just won't open. He takes a step to you, you take a step back. And this happens until your heel hits the back of the roof, near the edge.

“You’ve been what I needed all this time, as you need me.”

His words make you stumble and you start to lose balance, but before you can fall backwards. Qimir reaches towards your wrist and holds you in place mid fall. He is touching the same arm he previously did. This time, he brushed his thumb over your scar on your hand. It brings shivers down your spine and your hair stands up. He gently pulls you forward to set you standing straight again.

The commotion to both of your fighting has brought attention to your neighbors, and you can see bright lights coming your way. Qimir doesn’t look behind him but knows they're coming with his statement.

“What’s keeping you here? They’re gonna find you. Question you. Take you in. Once they find out your ex Jedi.. Well.” He shakes his head side to side while puffing air out. “I don’t think you want that.”

He makes a good point. The last thing you want to do is have the Jedi back into your life, and question you as to why you left the order. Making you relive the painful reason you left all over again.

“Or.. you join me.” Silence fills the air as the tension grows with his offer. He speaks again. “You figure out how to make peace with your past and join me as we both live a life where Jedi don’t make all the rules.”

The rules. The words brought anger inside you. Qimir senses it and smirks. He knows he's convincing you. Your door is starting to crack, and he's easing his way in.

“UP THERE!!” A loud voice yells from below your building and it gives you a signal you need to make a decision fast.

The thought of staying behind while you deal with the situation that will come to you full of dread and anger makes your face scrunch of how much you don't want to deal with it. Then the thought of joining Qimir, who senses your feelings you’ve been suppressing for so long. As much as he frustrated you, you felt a sense of relief in finally being able to be seen in that way. As negative as it was. But that's what drew you to him. He’s no Jedi, that's for sure. Because if he was one, he’d treat you like some maniac for having such strong feelings of hatred and anger. You sense familiarity in Qimir. In some ways, you feel like you're looking in a mirror.

A mirror you wanted to keep looking into.

You nod your head yes, and he smiles to himself. Ready for what's to come.

read part three here !

#qimir #qimir x reader #qimir the acolyte #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #manny jacinto #the acolyte

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lorarri · 4 months

Text

★ . . . 🇹🇷 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 , 𝐒𝐕𝟓

summary , two people that hate each other more than anything but that seems to gradually change into something a whole lot more interesting

pairing , sebastian vettle x fem! red bull! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | f1 grid masterlist

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton nicorosberg 89,380,412 others

yourinstagram winter break in the sun ☀️

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user mother is mothering even in off season

sebastianvettel slacking off are we? ⤷ yourinstagram shut your dumb ass up cuz at least I ain't getting black out drunk and throwing up in the streets lol

user ahhhh my messy teammate duo are at it again

user god this enemies to lovers arc with seb is taking wayyyy to long

user very normal abt this. very.

user y/n come back home the kids miss you 😍

user she is goals 😩🤌🏻

user i want u so bad y/n it’s not even funny anymore

user god me when 🧎🏽‍♀️

user y/n come over pls. I'm free whenever.

user EEYUH. EEYUH.

user SLAYED THE HOUSE DOWN

user ate soooooo hard

user mommy?

user okay but can Y/N and Seb just fuck and get it over with

user one singular chance i beg mother

user THIS BARBIE IS INSANE.

user YOU LOOK SO GOOD ITS SICKENINGGGGGG 😩

user mhm. mhm. now that’s what i’m talking about.

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yourinstagram . 12hrs ago

seen by sebastianvettel landonorris 87,392,021 others

user replied to your story!

nooooooo the enemies to lovers arc is RUINED

user replied to your story!

seb must be sad af rn

user replied to your story!

SEBY/N shippers must be morning rn

sebastianvettel

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sebastianvettel she use to hate me now she calls me baby

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─ requested by . . .

@monzabee ─ OKAY HI, HELLO, HEY you know what i'm here for and i'm here to request TURKEY for the crazy rich asians series!! 🤩 can i just say this is a very inclusive and amazing idea and you are a legend for literally including the whole of asia like LOOK AT MY WIFEY GO🩷🥹🫶so, turkish tv dramas are usually very dramatic, so i was thinking maybe something very dramatic with enemies to lovers?? you can choose whichever driver you want, but as a face claim, i have some options if you want to choose from either hande erçel or afra saraçoğlu!! thank you for including my country in this and thank you for being a legend!!👀🩷

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emphistic · 4 months

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Revelation

A/N: i must finish this series before it finishes me. this is also only my second time writing on laptop instead of my phone.

<- Series m.list

Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.

It came natural to him — talking to you, I mean.

“Hello?” you asked, putting him on speaker. You didn’t bother moving your phone to your ear, your roommate slept over at her boyfriend’s last night anyway. So you had the apartment to yourself.

A deep, raspy voice answered on the other line with a quick, “Hey,” and you assumed he had probably only woken up a few minutes before he called you.

“Do you . . . need something?” You had to admit, this was quite odd. It was rare for Sukuna to call you so early in the morning, after all, your tutoring sessions were usually in the evening or right after Sukuna got off of basketball practice, which was never before 4pm.

“I’m supposed to need something now? What if I just wanted to talk to you?”

“. . .” You almost dropped your phone on the tiles of the kitchen floor; your silence told Sukuna everything he needed to know.

“What, don’t tell me I can’t talk to my favorite tutor?” His voice held a mischievous tone to it, and the expression painted on his face was no different.

“I’m your only tutor, dickhead.”

Sukuna feigned a sigh, and you almost pitied him for a second. “I just, y’know, miss hearing the voice of the prettiest girl on campus—”

“Sukuna, don’t—don’t do that. Especially not to me.” Chance no. 1 — Those words and the tone in which you uttered them almost made Sukuna think back on the whole bet. If only he had. If only he had listened.

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

“Why not?”

“For fuck’s sake, Sukuna, don’t play coy. It is eight in the morning—”

“I’m serious, though. I just want to talk to you, it’s, ah, lonely over here.” Sukuna twirled a pen he picked up from his nightstand between his fingers.

Lonely? Lonely? Sukuna was lonely? Yeah, he had to be playing with you or something. “Where’s that girl you posted on your story last night then, hm? Was she not up to your liking, Ryomen?”

“Don’t even start.”

You laughed. Sukuna smiled; in all honesty, he really did miss your voice. He had neither seen nor heard from you in days. Coach had been kicking him in the ass lately, telling him to do this and do that, and the injury on his shoulder was really starting to take a toll on his body. He wasn’t allowed to work out, much less, even play ball.

“Are you really serious though? Like, deadass?”

Sukuna paused, before answering moments later. “Why the hell would I not be? Yuuji’s out of town with some of his friends, so I have no one to bother, and no games for a while, either. This is the first time I’ve had — what did you call it? — a lazy morning.”

You couldn’t stifle your giggle. “Is that all you care about? No Yuuji and no basketball?”

“. . . I also have no food in the fridge . . . so that’s that, I guess.”

“Oh, my God! You being miserable is not supposed to be this funny. I can’t.” Sukuna could still hear your laughter loud and clear from the other line even after you set your phone down to clutch your stomach in hysteria.

“How rude of you, Madame President.”

When you realized how casually you were speaking to Sukuna — out of all people, you abruptly regained your composure, and cleared your throat. Yeah, sometimes either you or Sukuna would crack a joke or two during a tutoring session, but you two rarely held a civil conversation without it breaking out into a petty fight or argument about something trivial. So this was certainly new. And, you were also fairly surprised with how natural it felt, as if this was totally normal, and you totally weren’t speaking to the biggest nuisance and bane of your existence.

However, this also wasn’t the first nor last phone call you two would ever have. And usually, speaking while separated also helped keep the peace between you both.

“Are you stable now?” Sukuna teasingly questioned.

Your voice cracked, “Mhm.”

“Good.” Then, he hung up. That was it. That was it. Chance no. 2 — Sukuna should’ve just left it at that. He should’ve never called you another morning, or another evening. But no, he was determined to prove Naoya Zen’in wrong. He could do this. But. . . He shouldn’t do this. And that made all the difference.

Maybe it was a bad idea to immediately start his car and drive to your complex. Maybe it was a bad idea to knock three times, sparing only a glance at the number on your door: 116. Maybe it was a bad idea to enter your apartment. Maybe it was a bad idea. Then again, you were the one who let him in — in the first place. It was a bad idea.

“You said you were hungry, right? I’m making breakfast right now. Wan’ some?”

He should’ve shook his head no, and said, “My fridge is empty. But I’m not hungry,” but he didn’t. Sukuna stayed over for three hours. You two spent the morning sharing a stack of pancakes, and spoke in hushed tones — not for any specific reason — over cups of coffee.

But that wasn’t all. Sukuna began calling you almost every morning after that day. At first, it was an inconvenience, as most of your meetings were in the early hours, but you two came to a compromise and only spoke on the phone for as long as it took you to change your clothes and get ready to leave. However, unbeknownst to you, Sukuna also took the time out of his day. Though it wasn’t much, Sukuna skipped out on his morning jogs to hear your voice. It didn’t matter, anyway, because Coach wasn’t going to let him run if he had a say in this. But he didn’t.

The bet stayed in the back of his mind. Sukuna rarely thought about it. At times, most times, really, it didn’t feel like a bet or a dare or a joke, to Sukuna. It felt real. It felt like he was actually talking to and hanging out with a real person. He was talking to and hanging out with you. And he was enjoying it.

But when Naoya called, and asked for them to meet up after school, Sukuna automatically knew what that little mutt wanted. They agreed on a small diner, close to campus, and not too far from their gymnasium. It was rough, downtrodden, and looked too old to still be running. Nevertheless, no one was supposed to see them here anyway, so it worked.

“Have you two hung out yet?”

The memory of having breakfast at your place was not a distant memory, so Sukuna didn’t mention it. “Not out of school.”

“I assume progress has been slow, then?”

“We’ve started talking more than usual.” Sukuna silently reminisced about all the nights you spent on call together, when either of you couldn’t fall asleep, and about all the mornings you spent eating breakfast together, when Sukuna’s fridge was, like always, empty. But he didn’t mention any of those things.

“You seem to be enjoying this, y’know. I saw the way you dropped her off at her Student Council meeting, don’t think I didn’t.”

Sukuna frowned, but the blond continued.

“You had a smile on your face.”

That, he did.

“If you don’t hurry up and get her to go out with you, I’m calling off the bet. Money’s gone. No prize, nothing. Make up your mind. Go through with this, or, like the pussy you are, forfeit,” Naoya spat out; his tone was far from benevolent, did Sukuna forget about how this all started in the first place? Chance no. 3 — Sukuna should’ve ended the deal right then and there. But he didn’t; if Naoya thought Sukuna was going to back out of this unsuccessful, he thought wrong.

“You seem to have forgotten who was the pussy in the first place, dumbass. I’ll forfeit when I die.”

“We’ll see about that, Ryomen. We’ll see.”

It was later than usual when Sukuna called you that night, and exhaustion was evident in his voice.

“You’re telling me, that, you’ve started hanging out with SUKUNA!?”

“Nobara, shh! At this point, the whole building’s going to know.”

“They should know! This is revolutionary! My friend’s getting laid!”

You shot her a pointed expression.

“Alright, alright, let me just tone it down a bit, my bad, because I’m totally not shocked that my best friend is now talking civilly with the man of her NIGHTMARES!” Her pitch gradually got louder and higher as she continued with her sentence. You curled up into a ball on the floor of your shared living room as the brunette paraded around the apartment waving her arms about and screaming in intervals of only two seconds.

“And, and, not only that, he’s also asking you OUT?!”

“Nobara, oh, my God.”

“‘Oh, my God’ is right. This is — I don’t even know what to say — is this good? Is this great? Are we excited? Are we friendzoning him? What’s—what’s the situation here, girl? Fill me in a little more.”

“Oh, yeah, about that. . . I’m not really into baseball, but I was talking to him the other day about it—”

“Why are you only telling me just now?”

“Anyways, I was telling him about this player who I thought was really cute. Y’know, the guy I showed you a picture of—with the really spunky hair, yeah, that guy, and umm, I guess he took that as me saying I’m into baseball. But I’m not. I have no clue what anything regarding that sport even is, I just—ugh, I need help. He says he has really good seats,” you pinched the space between your brows in exasperation.

“What I’m getting at here is that you don’t want to say ‘no’ because he already paid for the tickets?”

You nodded.

“But you don’t want to say ‘yes’, right?”

When you didn’t respond, Nobara audibly sighed as loud as one could, and slapped her palm on her forehead. “I thought you were better than this. Sukuna? Really? You want to go out with that punkass? The one who — you told me — annoyed the shit out of you back in high school? Girl, something has to be possessing you right now, what the fuck.”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths. Let’s backtrack a little,” Nobara seemed to be the only one not following her own instruction.” So, he’s asking you out on a date, with him, and not another better guy who would be better deserving of you. Yes? Ugh, damnit. Okay, anyway, and you plan on saying ‘yes’.”

“I might’ve already said ‘yes’,” you winced as Nobara looked like she was about to faint.

“Oh, dear Jesus. Do I not exist to you anymore? Why are you only giving me the scoop, like, centuries later? Are we not friends, roommates, anything? . . . Okay, okay, deep breaths, Nobara, deep breaths. . .” She shut her eyes and began to breathe in deeply, over and over again.

All the while, you tried to contain your own mind. If you really thought hard and long about it, it would seem a little strange that you were going on a date with Ryomen Sukuna. Scratch that, really strange, actually. I mean, how much could a person possibly change over the course of — what, a year? — to go from teasing and bullying you relentlessly, absolutely determined to make your life a living hell, to asking you out on a date. A date? Isn’t that what couples do? Isn’t that what people who like or love each other do? But, you weren’t supposed to like nor love Sukuna. You were supposed to hate his guts, or, at the most, tolerate him. But no more, right?

That’s what Nobara Kugisaki was trying to figure out, as well. But her specific thinking was on a level below yours. As your best friend, roommate, and all the things you could possibly think of, she knew you. She knew your favorite type of sandwich, your favorite music genres and songs, your favorite hairbrush to use, your favorite pair of shoes. She knew you well. But, after some previous events, she now only knew you well enough. She also used to know your type. . . And, Sukuna? Wasn't it, until now, apparently.

“So what’s the game plan?” The sound of her genuinely curious voice brought an abrupt end to your train of thought.

“Oh, um, I don’t know? Just go to the game with him, I guess. That’s all there is to it, right? It’s just a simple date, a simple outing, an evening of fun. Yeah! Let’s think of it that way.” While you tried to act normal about the whole arrangement, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of misgiving about the whole thing. You were actually starting to like Sukuna more than you let on, he made you feel giddy inside, like a little middle school girl talking to her crush, he made you laugh and smile, but, in the end, you weren’t sure if he changed enough as a person to not go back to his old ways.

“That’s all there is to it?” Nobara repeated, not completely understanding your words.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this. After all, Sukuna never referred to this as a date in the first place, it was you, instead, who thought of it as one. I mean, who wouldn’t? Sukuna played it off as, “Me and Yuuji were originally going to go together, but we bought these tickets before he went out of town. And I don’t like baseball that much, either, I’m more of a basketball typa guy — as you know, so there’s no way I’m going alone. And there’s also no way I’m letting sixty bucks go to waste.”

You laughed with him, and said, “So I’m the replacement?”

“Whatever you want to be.”

To be completely honest, you didn’t give it much thought when you quickly replied only moments later, “Sure, I’d like that.”

“What the fuck?! He was clearly safe!” Sukuna yelled, standing up from his seat as the rest of the crowd held similar reactions to what was called.

You crossed your legs, remaining seated, and placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “I thought you weren’t into baseball?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m stupid!” Sukuna extended an arm out in the direction of the umpire, and mumbled a string of curses.

“Was it really that big of a deal? Mind you, you’re the brainy one in this area, not me, for once. You’ve gotta start giving me some pointers.” You cocked your head to the side, and used your hand to escape the harsh rays of the sun.

“Oh really, that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Was my lecture lasting the whole car ride here not enough for you?”

You let out a laugh, “You already know the answer to that.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t listen to a thing I said?”

“Bingo.”

“Sukuna, what are we doing?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The two of you spoke quietly, whilst sharing a cool milkshake after you unanimously decided it was hot as fuck, and you both were sweating like absolute pigs.

“Y’know. . . What are we doing? What are we doing at a baseball game together? What are we doing spending most nights and mornings on call together? What are we doing on a date together? What are we doing—together?” It was hard enough for you to keep eye contact with someone, you always felt uncomfortable by it, but Sukuna made it nearly impossible. You couldn’t meet his dark eyes for long enough until you had to avert your gaze elsewhere. But sharing a milkshake together? There really was no escape for you.

When the stadium grew boisterous and louder than ever out of the blue, you thought everyone was listening in to your conversation. Then, the logical side of your brain shut that idea down. But, when you and Sukuna turned your heads simultaneously to face the Jumbotron at the same time, you realized.

Inside of a heart-shaped frame decorated in pink and red hearts on the live-streamed video up above was none other than your and the pink haired-man beside you’s faces on the screen. And below your faces, written in bold, large, and white letters were: KISS CAM.

This was it. This was how you would die.

“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing,” Sukuna turned to look at you with a calmer-than-he-should-be face. “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing. But . . . if you’ll let me. . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes languidly moved down your face, until his gaze rested on your lips.

Chants of “Kiss, kiss, kiss” filled the stadium, and grew louder and louder and louder, despite your evidently growing embarrassment.

You don’t know who leaned in first, and to this day, you still don’t know.

Sukuna’s arm — which previously hung around the back of your seat, moved to rest on the small of your back. His other hand gingerly cupped your cheek, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand, relaxing at the feel of his seemingly soothing touch.

A smirk grew on Sukuna’s face, and you waited for an obscene, vulgar joke to come out, but it never did. As your faces got nearer, your noses almost touching as a result, time seemed to come to a halt. You couldn’t even hear the restless crowd anymore. It was just you, and Sukuna. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. Come to think of it, you liked the sound of that, to be honest.

While Sukuna came closer, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he really was. I know, it sounds weird to say, but it was true. In high school, he had his fair share of girlfriends, but you never really paid much thought to it. But now, you know why. It was undeniable. Sukuna really was attractive. Even if you push aside him being built like a Greek god, there were still other aspects to his beauty. His seemingly hypnotic eyes, his defined cheekbones, his tattooed skin, and that sharp jawline of his. It was all so, so beautiful.

You closed your eyes, afraid of what would happen next. But really, there was nothing to be afraid of as his lips met yours in a tender, yet fervent kiss.

This was . . . new. You didn’t expect a kiss from the Ryomen Sukuna to feel this way — not that you ever thought about that, no way. Was he always this gentle? Fuck, why was his hair so soft? While your focus was entirely on the man in front of you, your hands were quite distracted and moved to his nape to play with the little ends of hair there from his undercut.

Earlier, the cries of the stadium were softened and shut out because of . . . something you didn’t know about. (And the author doesn’t know, either.) But now, sounds of the stadium were completely drowned out, for you could only hear the hammering of your own heartbeat in your own chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your mind was wiped completely blank, and you felt lightheaded, beyond dazed, even, as Sukuna caressed your cheek whilst he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips began to move more ravaging-ly, like he was greedy for more. His tongue lightly grazed against your bottom lip, before he gave you lick. Taking the opportunity — as you parted your lips in a gasp, Sukuna added a little bit of tongue into the kiss as well.

The crowd grew wild, erupting into cheers as the sight on the screen grew closer and closer to a mere porno. Some parents were even forced to cover the stares of their curious and confused children

You swore — for a split second, that you could taste the bitterness of the chocolate syrup from the milkshake you two had shared earlier, which made the kiss feel impossibly more sweeter, and even pleasant, if you will. You felt your face heat up, and your cheeks redden. You just knew he was going to tease you about this later, but did it matter? Not really, no.

The kiss turned sloppy, as Sukuna grew insatiable like the jerk he was, and people in charge of the KISS CAM quickly moved to a different couple, in hopes of keeping things a little more on the PG side.

You were surprised, to say the least, as you found yourself craving more. You grew fond of the feeling of his lips on yours, and you were beyond devastated — a pout evident on your glossy lips, when Sukuna pulled away.

You sank down into the back of your seat, covering your reddening cheeks, and attempting to hide from the world as Sukuna only gave a shit-eating grin to the people around you both.

Was it the beer that made you do all of that? Oh, right. You’re completely sober! God, you wondered what possessed you to do such a thing, much less, on live video! There was no excuse for what you just did. Nada.

“Was it really that bad? — That you had to hide away like a little hobbit?” Sukuna teased, laughing as you continued to get impossibly more red.

He really, really enjoyed this.

#if this flops i might just kms #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader

446 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 9 months

Text

the best of (instagram) * driverkiddies

(series masterlist) | (📂 smau specials)

driverkiddies

liked by rockysroads, logansargeant and 4,429 others

driverkiddies everyone please say hello to my child, he’s a stray i picked up from the streets of australia that i named kidnapper

view all 487 comments…

logansargeant crazy how i didn’t join you at the club for one night and i woke up with a pet cat

rockysroads please address him by his name ty

user1 pet cat…? this is ur pet?

user2 BLACK CAT LOVER

user3 black cats are good luck… y/n wdc 2023?

oscarpiastri hehe meow.

driverkiddies no ❤️

logansargeant ???

landonorris did you get hacked mate wtf

maxverstappen1 tell ur cat to respect me

driverkiddies also no ❤️

rockysroads u heard the cat

logansargeant i cant even get it to like me

user4 RESPECT TO KIDNAPPER PLEASE

driverkiddies exactly these bitches have NO respect for my baby user4

alex_albon this is the only likeable member in ur household

rockysroads i might have to agree with you on this one

logansargeant saying that when i exist is crazy dawg

alex_albon huh logansargeant

williamsracing aww welcome to the family, kidnapper!!! 💙

rockysroads admin ur my baby’s godparents

logansargeant i literally pay for this cat’s litter wdym kidy/n

rockysroads do yall hear sumn

andrettiracing black cats are good luck!!!

sebastianvettel true

driverkiddies

liked by rockysroads, logansargeant and 7,429 others

driverkiddies “i think he’s starting to like me” - logan sargeant, 2023

view all 2,439 others…

logansargeant he is

rockysroads ur real funny

oscarpiastri did the cat tell you that, logan?

lilyzneimer that cat likes me more than he likes logan

rockysroads real

rockyskiddies rocky is my favourite

rockysroads so true rockyskiddies

logansargeant are u out of ur mind talking to urself in the instagram comments? rockysroads

rockysroads shut ur mouth logansargeant

sebastianvettel when am i seeing kidnapper again

driverkiddies i know ur a dog lover ❤️

rockysroads haha

sebastianvettel ur weird for answering me with two different accounts

rockysroads wdym thats kidnapper typing on the phone

sebastianvettel ?

logansargeant she bought him a pretend phone

rockysroads it’s a real phone

lilymhe aww, they’re getting along well!!! 💙

logansargeant not true, kidnapper took my spot on the couch

alex_albon understandable

driverkiddies u might be my favourite alex

driverkiddies

liked by logansargeant, sebastianvettel and 11,429 others

driverkiddies stubby puppy

view all 4,329 comments…

rockysroads i’m never letting u use this account ever again what kinda dumb ass caption is that

logansargeant u cant appreciate real art and it shows

sebastianvettel sigh

driverkiddies shut up 💙

oscarpiastri valid reaction

daltonsargeant boring caption

rockysroads that’s what i’m saying

blythesworld shouldve kept this ig account to urself sis

daltonsargeant what she said blythesworld

maxverstappen1 do u want another pet

sebastianvettel she does not.

rockysroads hi, u called for me?? what pet? hi?

logansargeant enough please

charles_leclerc what a cute puppy!!!

lilyzneimer is for me???

oscarpiastri girl shut up we’re not getting a dog

lilyzneimer lol haterrrr

nicolepiastri apologise oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri sorry lilyzneimer

oscarpiastri FOR FUCKING NOTHINGYGGGG lilyzneimer

dalt0ns my dog

driverkiddies you babysat stubby ONE TIME does NOT mean he is your pet please get a grip on life

daltonsargeant i’ll get u ur own dog

dalt0ns i knew i always liked u more than logan

logansargeant wow i cant catch a break

driverkiddies

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer and 10,492 others

driverkiddies logan had one job and it was to find stubby a Halloween costume and he couldn't even do that

view all 3,148 comments...

logansargeant wow

rockysroads u always make stubby feel like the non-favourite child

rockysroads it's sick

sebastianvettel why is logan ostracising stubby

rockysroads he hates stubby lowkey

logansargeant no i dont wtf i love him very much

lilyzneimer why does kidnapper get a whole outfit and stubby only gets a pumpkin :/

logansargeant I WAS VERY BUSY OKAY

rockysroads because logan plays favourites :/

logansargeant STOP SAYING THAT I WAS JUST BUSY

oscarpiastri justice4stubby

#fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

926 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

Lush

Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!

Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.

Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc

WC- 2.9k

-----

Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.

Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’

Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.

“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.

“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.

“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.

Spoiler- he did. Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.

It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.

This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.

“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.

“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”

Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.

“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”

And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”

She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”

Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.

“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.

—--

Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.

What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.

“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”

The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”

Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.

“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”

“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.

“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.

“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”

“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.

She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”

Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”

419 notes · View notes

strawberries-and-summer-days · 4 months

Text

WE'RE... WHAT?? ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

summary:

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: part two of the series is out! im procrastinating the shit out of all my other requests so im not ignoring any of you btw!! lets all collectively ignore the fact that gracie like a post that has a lyric from her song (also damn im really just smashing out these fics)

"y/n has officially flitted off to boston!" clarisse announces suddenly from chris's lap.

"huh?" grover's head snaps up. "what do you mean?"

"y/n l/n, she's come to boston for her concerts," clarisse says showing her phone screen.

"you have got to be shitting me," chris says. "this is going to end terribly. seriously? here? boston? percy's gonna shit himself."

"oh really why would you think that?" clarisse drawls. "it's not like they don't like each other, they're like besties!"

"and y'know to make things worse y/n's setlist has been posted for months so we legit could've avoided her," chris sighs.

"yeah well, next time you see percy and he comes home grumbling about a business meeting in boston you deal with it then," grover argues.

"okay all of you shut it, percy's coming inside with luke so shhh," clarisse snaps.

"shh about what?" luke asks settling down on the couch next to grover.

"you'll never believe who's in boston!" grover sing songs. it doesn't take luke very long to work out who and his eyes widen in realisation

"no."

"yes."

"well shit."

"yep."

"we're in for a show."

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase and 1, 402, 385 others

percyjackson hello boston! one non-reschedulable meeting later and here we are...

view all comments

underovergrover i expect full compensation for making those pizzas WHICH YOU TOOK CREDIT FOR

percyjackson YOU DID NOT! I MADE HALF OF THOSE - MINE WERE BETTER

clarisse.la.rue no they weren't

percyjackson 🖕🏼

user1 ugh im in love

user2 omggg he's in boston!! so is y/n l/n!! are they following each other around?

user3 PLS I WOULD DIE MAKE THIS A THING

user4 i wonder if he's going to a concert here?? 😏

user5 does anyone else find it weird how his entire friend group follows him around?? no just me? they're just a huge freak show

user6 booooo we dont like haters here

user7 y/n l/n and percy neeeeed to happen rnnnn

user8 YES YES YES

lukecastellan im so ready to be done with this shit and go home

theannabethchase aww is someone feeling homesick?

lukecastellan yes obviously

user8 i. love. him.

☾. ⋅

"see i told you this would happen!" grover screeches, running away from percy who is threatening to castrate him if he doesn't get his phone back.

"i don't care! just give me the damn thing back!"

percy had groaned for two straight minutes when he found out that y/n was in boston this weekend - he had also face planted onto the couch and used some extremely obscene words.

"if it helps at least you'll be leaving on sunday," chris had offered in the midst of his crisis. it didn't help.

so now when grover trips over a fallen pillow - which may or may not be from percy's tantrum but we don't talk about that - and percy wrenches the phone from him a loud - and might grover add overtly girly - scream.

"WHAT THE FUCK? NO! NO NO NO NO!"

his screen is on the article grover had opened with really poorly photoshopped images of percy and y/n walking together. every gossip site/blog has swarmed the photos and circulated them sending the internet into a spiral.

"im fucking done with this grover," percy groans flopping onto the couch. "its a good thing we're leaving tomorrow - we'll be back in new york thats a huge ass city i wont see y/n there again and i can just go into hibernation, let all the rumours die down and be done with this whole shit show."

if only right....

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel, gracieabrams and 932, 841 others

yn.official feel like maybe i might go to boston! you were the best audience and im honoured to have performed for you these past two nights! heading home now to rest and recharge for the final shows in new york

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lia.mandel yayy you're finally coming home i missed you 🥺

yn.official bitch please its been like a week

lia.mandel and every second of it has been torture

user1 MOTHERRRR

user2 i think i nearly fainted when she came up on stage i was so happy i coulda died right then-

user3 the lyric makes me so happyyy

user4 ikrr y/n is like the queen of lyrics and the way she sneakily adds them into her posts 🤭

user5 WERE YOU WITH PERCY JACKSON THIS WEEKEND?? 🤨 I NEED TO KNOW

user6 y/n and percy are my dream celebrity ship

user7 they'd be the biggest power couple in history

user8 can you hard launch with percy plss?? i dont care if its fake i just need content to feed my delusions!

☾. ⋅

lia's soft snores fill the plane aggravating the hell out of you. usually you'd find the way she curled up in a ball underneath a blanket and snored quietly to be adorable. but since you're tired, just finished performing a concert and there's a problem with the jet, its grating on your nerves.

you had also been scrolling on twitter, instagram and pinterest, curled up underneath a matching blanket urging something to catch your attention while whatever work was being done on the plane happened.

unfortunately for you the thing that did catch your attention was the dozens of very clearly photoshopped pictures of you and percy walking together on a quiet street in boston.

no way in hell thats real. for one; ew and two; percy was only here for the weekend you were here for the week and you would've had no time to go out in between concerts.

eventually you doze off not realising you're in the air until you're ears pop waking you up to lia grinning mischievously.

"what asshole?"

"you're adorable when you wake up, you know that right?"

"yes i know."

"seriously the cutest human on the planet."

"what do you want lia?"

"a gossip podcast has picked up the subject of you and percy jackson. and the host is saying shit about you."

your eyes widen for a moment. "oh my god what? wow its almost as if i don't care!" ypu give lia a blank look. "this happens every three months lia, i do something and people either love it or hate it. thats the way it goes."

"yeah but this is PERCY JACKSON Y/N! he's gorgeousness personified."

"ugh can i go back to sleep? you can fangirl to me tomorrow when im in bed and pretending to listen."

"im offended." she leans over to place a kiss on your head. "but sleep tight babes, we land in like forty minutes."

shutting your eyes again you drift back to sleep.

only when you wake up do you realise you dreamed of percy...

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus, @avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, [if you want to be added just let me know!]

#percy x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy x y/n #percy x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆#percy x popstar au ₊ ⊹

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cieloclercs · 6 months

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 7/7 (read part 6 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. angsty but with a lil catharsis at the end (yes it’s a happy ending i’m too weak to keep the angst up 😔) swearing as per, your bestie and charles SCHEMING, y/n being a teenyyy bit annoying but it’s fine she’s heartbroken we accept it 😚

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. FINAL PART!! it’s been a long time coming (sorry about that sixth form’s been kicking my ass 😔) but thank you to everyone that has been interacting with this series! i love and appreciate you all sooooo much!! 🫶 anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy the finale of what would you say (if i told you i love you)? 💗

liked by charles_leclerc and 37,846 others

yourusername happier than ever 🩶

view all comments…

username me when i lie:

username y/n baby you’re not fooling anyone with that caption 🫠

username ok billie eilish

username y/n may be a boss ass bitch but when you’ve been best friends with a guy since you were 5 years old AND you were in love with that guy it’s gonna fucking hurt.

username it’s so weird to me that everyone says she loved him like they confirmed anything? they were literally just friends 😑

username that may be so, but when two people look at each other the way y/n and charles do there’s NO WAY they’re just friends…

yourfriend you know there’s something called taking my advice maybe you should try it sometime 😃

username erm hello?? excuse me??

username what’s going on here then? 😳

arthur_leclerc sure you are ☺️

username the SHADE 😭

username arthur is truly one of us 🫡

username i want her and charles to make up NOT because i think she should forgive him but because she’s clearly miserable and denying herself a chance to be happy ☹️

username why does this feel like a cry for help

username i miss the old y/n 😢

username shut up she’s still y/n 🙄 don’t be one of those girls, people are allowed to change !!

username PREACH

leclerc_pascale ma fille pour toujours / my girl forever 💗

yourusername 🫶

username hey y/n! if you are truly happy then i am so proud of you <3 but i know that sometimes say things to hide the pain they’re actually feeling. what i’m trying to say is please don’t think you need to act as if you’re doing great all the time! we all love and support you no matter what, and all we want is for you to be happy! 💗

yourusername i think this is the sweetest comment i’ve ever received?? 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words and for checking in! i love you ❤️

username crying this is the purest interaction on this app i’ve ever seen 🥲

username username PREACH!! this is the kind of energy all y/n fans should be having right now!!

username username no truer words have ever been spoken! yourusername we’re here for you no matter what! 🫶

*yourusername liked this comment

charles_leclerc all i want is for you to be happy.

*charles_leclerc deleted this comment

username CHARLES WE SAW THAT

username he really thinks he’s slick 😭

username we all saw the charles comment right?? i didn’t hallucinate it?? 😀

username how was it up for less than a minute and yet we literally all saw it 😭

username lol it’s expose charles day

username he really thought he could hide from us 🙄 rookie mistake

liked by formula1updates and 107,837 others

f1gossip BREAKING! Charles Leclerc and Y/F/N, best friend of Y/N Y/L/N spotted together in Monaco! Do we smell a backstabber? 👀

view all comments…

username YOU WHAT NOW

username THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING

username i actually have no words.

username oh 😃

username guys it might not be what it looks like!! we don’t know the whole story

username well it looks pretty incriminating to me…

username i knew she was a fake little bitch 🤢

username RIGHT?? i’ve always said it and no one ever listened to me!!

username she’s definitely jealous of y/n 🙄

username you guys sound so pathetic right now you don’t even know the whole story??

username right all the fake y/n fans talking shit about y/f/n need to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

username LITERALLY the switch up is insane 🫠

username yes!! first of all no one knows the full story, and second y/f/n has been nothing BUT supportive of y/n throughout this whole situation! switching up on her now is really unfair ☹️

yourfriend this is unbelievable. f1gossip you have no right to post this without any understanding of the full story.

username yourfriend stop trying to play innocent we all now you’re a fake backstabbing skank 🤮

username username if you can’t think for yourself without trusting everything the TABLOIDS tell you then just do us all a favour and shut the fuck up 🥰

yourusername

seen by charles_leclerc and 21,673 others

responses:

yourfriend thank you, y/n

liked by formula1updates and 22,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc spotted with a HUGE bouquet of flowers outside Y/N Y/L/N’s apartment in Monaco! Is reconciliation on the cards? 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨 THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username charles i am PRAYING that you don’t fuck this up i need my otp back together 🙏🙏🙏

username he’s finally come to his senses

username NOW THAT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

username y/n girlie for the love of god you better not shoot him down after all this 😔🙏

username after all of what? a bouquet of flowers? he needs to try a bit harder than that 🙄

username have you not seen him grovelling AT HER FEET for the last six weeks 😀

username tbh if charles leclerc turned up at my door with flowers i’d melt. no matter how angry i was 🤷‍♀️

arthur_leclerc FINALLY

username ARTHUR 😭

username arthur bestie what are you doing here 😭

username he’s so us

username he stans charlesy/n just as much as we do 🫶

one week later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 647,937 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername i’d say i love you too ❤️‍🩹

view all comments…

charles_leclerc thank you for giving me a second chance, mon amour ❤️

yourusername always 💫💗

charles_leclerc i love you so so much

charles_leclerc i’m the luckiest man in the world

yourusername aw charlie 🥹

username such a SIMP

username simp charles is my favourite charles

username oh he IN LOVE in love 🫠

username hold up so everyone was talking shit about y/f/n but the whole time she was actually plotting to get charles and y/n back together… 😳

username yep…everyone say sorry and thank you y/f/n right now!

username sorry yourfriend and thank you for doing god’s work 😔🙏

yourfriend you’re welcome guys ☺️

arthur_leclerc DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT

arthur_leclerc ELEVEN FUCKING YEARS

arthur_leclerc I DESERVE COMPENSATION FOR EVERY TIME I’VE HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU TWO PINE OVER EACH OTHER BUT NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT

yourusername way to expose us arth 😔

charles_leclerc sorry? 😃

username CRYING ARTHUR IS SO DONE WITH THEIR SHIT

username arthur is the true winner in this situation 😭

username bless his poor charlesy/n heart 😔

username yourusername charles_leclerc LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO THE POOR MAN. YOU’VE BROKEN HIM

joris_trouche it’s about damn time

yourusername ok lizzo

username THIS IS SO ADORABLE IM SOBBING

username FINALLY

username THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED. THAT’S IT MY LIFE IS COMPLETE

username ok but did you NEED to put us through all that pain? 😅

username it’s called character building bestie! we survived the charlesy/n friendship breakup so now we can get through anything! 😃

username the first picture 🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale Ma belle future fille / my beautiful future daughter 💗😉

charles_leclerc maman 🤦‍♂️

arthur_leclerc just propose already you’ve been saying you want to marry her since you were sixteen

charles_leclerc ARTHUR

yourusername CRYING 😭

yourfriend ARTHUR YOU DID NOT 😭😭

username IM SCREAMING ARTHUR WHY WOULD YOU EXPOSE HIM LIKE THAT

username poor charles can’t say anything without arthur exposing him 😔

landonorris i better be invited to the wedding 😏

carlossainz55 me too! 😘

charles_leclerc absolutely not.

yourusername landonorris carlossainz55 ignore him! of course you’re invited 😃

scuderiaferrari Our favourite couple ❤️

yourusername 🥰🫶

username even ferrari’s a charlesy/n fan

scuderiaferrari username *Biggest fan 😉

lorenzotl congrats to my favourite sibling (and charles) 😚

yourusername love you enzo ☺️💕

charles_leclerc rude??? 😒

username i love how they left us in suspense for a whole week after that gossip post and only NOW decided to confirm it ☺️☺️

username ROLL THE DAMN CREDITS.

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy @hwienv @xoxozoedagyal @alireads27 @glow-ish @eviethetheatrefreak @nmw-am @buendiabebeta @laneyspaulding19 @imthebadguyyy @marialovesf1 @f1wintermoon13 @topaz125 @aundercover @sainzluvrr @sunny44 @justdreamersdream @lordperceval-16 @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @midnightappleade @remuslupinsbitch @taylorslovesswifties13 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lillianacristina @lifeless-firefly @bbygrlllllll @405rry @1655clean @drthymby @ang-26 @dhe3reads @mishaandthebrits @caitdaniels @missenclod @lovely-blackinnon @smnthnclj @sofs16 @dark-night-sky-99 @c3leste888 @christcat @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @cixrosie

thank you all so much for the love on this series! i’m going to miss it 🥲

382 notes · View notes

lackadaisycats · 9 months

Note

Hello, the Honorable Tracy. I have a question, is it true that the new episode of "Slacker" will be released only by the end of 2024? Suddenly, at such a time, people will forget about the project, and even a mini-series will not help.. after all, views drop with every video, and it's sad D:

Slacker? lol, okay.

I am not going to squander this amazing, great fortune I have to make a whole cartoon by half-assing it, nor by crunching incessantly, burning through artists like tinder wood, and risking the whole studio collapsing in on itself just so we can rush deliver something unto an algorithm that's already innately unfriendly to less-than-daily upload rates.

Animation of this nature simply takes a physically long time to produce. Full 2D animated episodes of things you see coming out now from other studios have most likely been in production in one form or another for 1 - 2.5 years before you see them manifest. Sometimes more. What that means for viewership in the future, I don't know. I'll just have to hope the results speak for themselves. If it's any good, maybe people will show up for it.

-------------------------------- EDIT: @rorkimba clarified this was just a translation issue. I should have realized. Apologies for my snark up top! The rest still stands. I could talk at length about why our production schedule is what it is, but this encapsulates much of that reasoning.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats

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gilverrwrites · 1 month

Text

Dumping some stagnant WIPs that I’d love to revive in the hopes that some feedback/interaction might reignite my fire for them. Or at least show them the light of day they might never see otherwise.

Ft. (in order) PT!Dick Grayson, Nightwing, The Riddler, Two-Face, Harvey Bullock, Leatherface, and Jason Voorhees.

Colour co-ordinated for ease of navigation. Some of these are really short and sweet, some are whole-ass first chapters to potential series. Comments appreciated!

Untitled, PT!Dick Grayson/civilian reader, undecided

Nobody ever showed to the 2PM class. He’d meant to take it off the schedule since he spent most of them unofficially working on Nightwing business. Then you started showing up.

The first time he’d been in the back, hunched over his computer in nothing but his boots and boxers.

“Hello?” Your melodic voice chimed through the building, and he scrambled to find work out appropriate clothes, hopping his way to the front of house as he tied the laces of his sneakers. “Anyone here?”

As he pushed through the doors, he was mentally juggling how to get rid of you. It would be scammy of him to under or over work you in an attempt to put you off of coming back. Maybe he’d just tell you the class of cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances? But then he saw you.

Blue Bird: Missing, Nightwing/villain reader, multi chapter slow burn

Nightwing had been a part of your life, at least your life of crime, for as long as you could remember. Since you were teens fighting on opposite sides of the law. While he wasn’t your target tonight, he was in the way. He hadn’t been responsible for you latest stint at Blackgate.

It didn’t take a detective to know that the saftest course of action would be to lay low, to hide out until his patrolling took him a safe enough distance away for you to act without his alerting him. The smart part of you knew this, the petty part of you didn’t care.

“Stay still, I promise I wont look.” You instruct, closing your eyes as you paw at his mask until it comes off into your hands. His comms needed to be shut down, ensuring none of his bat or bird friends could come to his rescue and interfere with your plans.

With caution, you turn your back to him and begin to play with the tiny buttons and notches until you’re satisfied that you’ve turned it off. Shutting down his comms. You’re expecting a witty retort, something flirty about you missing out on his good looks, but nothing comes, and you don’t have time to wait.

“See, I kept my promise.” You continue as you turn back to him, eyes shut once more as you secure the mask back to the space over his eyes. When you look at him again, you find yourself struck with more curiosity than expected. You wouldn’t break the unspoken rule, you’d keep to your promise, but being so close to exposing him really has you wondering how he looks uncovered. What colour his eyes are. Blue, dark blue, you bet. He’d be cheesy enough to match his suit to his eyes.

“So, what’s your end game here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you expectantly, smirking in a way that’s far to smug for his position.

“Why? You gonna talk me down? I already told you, power bottom…” A gust of cold wind blows against you, pushing a piece of dark hair against his face and you brush it back, savouring its softness without even thinking. When you realise what you’re doing you tighten your grip and tug his head back against the post, saving face. At least you would be saving face if he didn’t let out an inexplicably lewd moan that made you suck in an audible breath. Theres an awkward pause between you both before you distract by continuing your answer to his question “This isn’t about you, you just got caught in the crosshairs.”

“Crosshairs of what battle?” He asks, and maybe he’s entitled to know, given that he’ll be sat on his ass, and undeniably inconvenienced by all this, but he’d put you in the same situation many times. Yes, his motivations were far more just than yours, but that meant nothing to you.

“It’s need to know bird boy.” You poke his nose, before finally stepping back, reassessing your surroundings, noting your next step before leaving him with a wave and a final shout; “And you don’t need to know.”

That should have been that last time you’d seen him, for that night anyway. But when you’d reached Nygma’s hideout, it was empty. It didn’t make sense. Your sources were reliable, you’d staked it out the night before. He’s been there, his henchmen had been there, boxes full of stupid trophies and half-built robots had been there, and now they were gone. The old mill factory was wiped clean, you were fuming. You’d called your informant to no avail. Reached out to some old contacts, who couldn’t help you. Tracked across the city, checking out his other known safehouses, all of which empty.

Now, just over two hours later you were climbing your way back up to the top the Gotham Bank. Nightwing would probably be gone by now. His radio silence alerting one of his birdbuddies that he’s need a save, and there’d almost certainly be a tracker in his suit. You were just checking in on him. Not because you care. Just because, if he was still where you’d left him, maybe you could set him free and cool him off. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t help with your predicament, but tracking down The Riddler would be a whole lot easier without Nightwing on the war path to put you back behind bars.

Per your suspicions, when you reach the roof, it’s empty. It’s not safe to linger, to return to the crime scene for too long, so you ready yourself to take off again. It’s when you’re stepping onto the ledge that you spot it. Something shiny and green, glinting in the corner of your eye. Upon closer inspection you release it’s a coin, made of some kind of green bottle, with a question mark engraved onto it, sitting right where Nightwing had been just a few hours earlier, and above it, a note, duct tape to the pole which read:

Blue Bird: Missing Want it back? Bring your coins, To the racetrack.

Well fuck.

Patterns, The Riddler/henchman reader, Multi chapter successor to Stockholm Syndrome

Eat, sleep, repeat. Lather, rinse, repeat. You’d be tracking target number 1 for 9 days, and besides a lonely weekend filled with racking up credit card debt at T.J.Maxx, and failed attempts at home cooking, it had been the SAME THING, every, single, day.

Pursing your lips, you lean back against the driver’s seat and let out a long sigh. You glance back up at the targets window before checking the time again. 10:01PM

You tap your fingers against the wheel before pulling out your phone. Ed is notoriously bad at picking up, (also notoriously bitter, if you don’t answer on the first ring) but you didn’t want to call it a night without checking in with him. He's your boss after all.

Dialling his current burner number and hitting loudspeaker, you sink down in your seat, studiying the cars roof as you wait for it to ring out.

“Hello?” You shoot back up. Startled by his answering on the 4th ring. Guess there’s a first time for anything.

“Oh…. Ed, hey, hi.” You stammer, trying to find your bearings again. “Um, so, riddle for you?”

“A riddle for me?” He scoffs, amused. maybe you're delusional but there seems to be a warmth in his tone. “This should be good.”

“Yeah, um, so…. If you're a child, you know me well, and when you're old I'll be your hell. I'm often felt but rarely shown. I'll drive you mad if you're alone.”

“Is the target sleeping now?”

“You didn’t answer the riddle!”

“Because it was an insult.” He scorns you before repeating. “Is the target sleeping?”

“Yeah. She crashes at about this time most nights.” You state factually. Trying not to let his sharpness get to you.

“Well….” He seems to hesitate. You hear what sounds like the click of this tongue, something rustling on his line. “If you’re bored, come see me.”

“At this time of night?” You begin to tease. “Ed, what will people think?”

Your joking might have been more convincing if it wasn’t punctuated by the sound of your engine starting before you proceed to speed down the road.

“I think a better question might be, ‘what are you thinking’?”

It wasn’t fair that you had started this line of conversation, but he was the one making you flushed. Especially since he wasn’t even there. In his presence you can blame it on his proximity, his scene, the intensity of his gaze when he’s focused solely on you for once, but he wasn’t here, and you had nothing to blame but your big fat crush on him. The silver lining at least was that he couldn’t see what he had done to you.

“I’m thinking….” You hesitated, unsure how to get him back. “I’m thinking, I’ll be there in 10.”

You hang up. He's sure to chew you out for that later, but it was worth it. You could just picture the tantrum he was having right now, leg stamping, and arms crossed. Probably muttering to himself, coming up with a sly comeback for then you arrived.

You’d been working for The Riddler for 6 and a half months now, and while he knew exactly how to use your infatuation with him to keep your moral compass spinning, you were slowly learning how to push his buttons right back.

Later

15 minutes later you lean against his desk, watching intently as he scans through your notes.

You watch greedily as his blue eyes bore into each word, deft fingers flipping through the pages, watch the way he stuck out his soft lower lip, still pouting at your earlier antics.

“So, what do you want with her anyway?” You try so spark a conversation.

“You’ve been monitoring her for almost two weeks.” He replies, refusing to look up at you. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Your brows scrunch together as you think back, racking your brain for anything remotely remarkable about the woman you’d been tailing. She was pretty, sure, but besides that she didn’t really seem to have anything going for her. Dead end job, no real friends, no romantic prospects, just her and her cat.

Not totally unlike yourself 7 months ago.

You briefly study Ed’s fave for any form of a giveaway, but his nose remains buried in your notes. With a shrug you conceded.

“I give up. What is it?”

Almost immediately Ed’s face began to morph. The corners of his lips curving into a coy smile, his eyes sparkle as he finally looks up at you.

“It’s her blood.” He answers, finally closing your notebook and unceremoniously letting it fall onto his desk.

“Her blood?” you quiz, more confused than ever. “What? Is she like a metahuman or something?”

“Oh no.” He says, making no attempt to conceal the amusement in his voice.

His fingers brush against your own as he locks his hands around your wrist. A jolt shoots up your body, but you push it down, steadying yourself to his touch.

You watch as he flips your arm around, baring your wrist to him. Gently he runs his fingers along your veins. “It’s blue. Her blood is blue. A member of the Finnish royal family, attempting to live like common people. Do whatever common people do.”

“Right.” Your voice shakes more than you would have liked. Even the smallest of touches from him are enough to melt your brain. “And what do you want with her? Money? O-“

Your questions were silenced as Ed brings your wrist to his face. Briefly pressing it to his nose and inhaling with a satisfied smile.

“Come now, Dear.” He silences you with the soft brush of his lips against your skin. You suck in a breath, fingers digging into the wood beneath you as you watch. Your concerns were long gone as he looks up at you, his studious gaze locked onto you as he pressed another, firmer kiss inches above the last. “I already gave you my word, did I not?”

In lieu of a response, a breathy moan escape your lips. Ed is clearly pleased with your response to his affection. Standing from his chair, he continued pressing progressively fevered kisses up your arm, over the curve of your shoulder, into the crevice of your collar.

His gloved hands gently cupped the curve of your hips. His fingers traced circles against your body as they dip lower, and lower until they're hooked under your knees. He plants one deep, open-mouthed kiss against your jaw as he pries your legs apart.

“Did I not, give you my word?” He pushes, his breath brushing against your ear. The feel of his lips curving into a smug smile that tickles your skin.

Flustered, but determined not to turn into a total puddle, you stroke your hand up his spine, thread your fingers into his hair, and direct his face to yours. Heads together, noses brushing, you answer; “yes.”

“Yes?” He raises one brow at you. His hands climb back up your thighs until they’re kneading at your asscheeks before pulling you closer. Your legs lock around his waist as you feel the pressure of his tented trousers press against you centre.

“Oh, yes.” Your exclaim again, arching your back to press yourself deeper against him.

You close the gap before he can. You didn’t miss the way his eyes widened before they fluttered closed. You may have initiated but it takes no time at all for Ed to take control. Your jaw grows slack at the pressure building between you legs, and Ed wastes no time taking advantage. His tongue shamelessly diving between your lips, filling your senses with the taste of him.

As soon as it starts, the moment is over. He breaks away to the sound of his phone ringing. Eyes never leaving yours as he brings it to his ear. Trust him to start answering his phone promptly when its least convenient for your.

“Speak.” He orders. His shoulders lean back, one hand resting on his hip as he mindlessly continues grinding against you. Desperate to keep him close you reach out to him, running your fingers up his chest, incidentally untucking his shirt.

“What?!” His outburst makes you jump. Abruptly, he pulls away from you completely. “Are you a complete and utter moron? How could you let this happen?”

With him now out of reach, all you can do is sit and watch patiently. You'd hate to be on the receiving end of it, but you have to admit, Edward can be really sexy when he was angry. Lean muscles taut; jaw clenched. You’d never admit that to him though, his ego is already 3 sizes to large.

So lost in your ill-advised admiration you almost didn’t notice when he gestures to you. Gloved hands waved in you face until you nod to express your attention. He points over at the pitiful stack of junk you call a desk, huddled in the corning of his office.

Hopping off his work bench you make your way over to it, looking over at Edward for further guidance. In response he lifts two fingers. You raise the file for target number 2 and waved it at him. He nods back at you and gives you a thumbs up, before waving you to the door.

“I cannot believe this. I swear if you want a job done….”

Was he dismissing you? What could possibly be going on that he could shrug you off so indifferently?

Some people have all the luck [Part 2], Two-Face, smut CWs: Dubious consent, alcohol

The trip from the bar to wherever this is had been a blur. You vaguely remember complaining about your tired feet getting wet in the dreary Gotham weather. Two-Face laugh at you then, pulled you closer and told you; “Don’t worry about it, Doll.”

Then there had been a car, an old, classy one. The streetlights blurred by the rain on the windows. At some point he’d carried you, bridal style through somewhere old and dusty. You just remember old hanging light fixtures dangling from a high ceiling. There’s been voices, muffled snickering until Harv had barked at them, something loud and authoritative. A little bit sexy.

Now you were here, legs dangling off the edge of a desk. The wallpaper is peeling. Diplomas and newspaper clippings hang on the wall in broken, lopsided frames. Harvey is pouring something amber coloured into a tumbler, whiskey, probably, he seems like a whiskey drinker.

With the imposing thought in mind that this might be your last chance, you ask him for a drink of your own.

“Nah.” He looks smug as he approaches. He downs the two-finger pour in one, faces contorting as it slides down his throat. Then he’s standing before you, guiding your legs open, making space for him to stand between him. You’re not sure which is more unnerving, the ease in which he touches and directs your body, or your willingness to allow it. As he speaks again, you catch a whiff of his breath, definitely whiskey. “You’ve had enough, if you’re gonna pass out tonight, it’s gonna be because of us.”

He probably means torture, but the idea of him fucking you unconscious sends a wave of arousal to your already heated core.

---

Allowing you zero time to get good look at, he sinks the tip between your folds, pumping the wetness along his length before lining himself up with your entrance. You suck in a breath as he penetrates you, bottoming out with one hard thrust, stretching your walls around his noticeably thick girth. The sheer size of him pushing against every inch of your insides stings, makes you throw your head back with an aching moan.

No sooner do you look away before his grabs your face with his scarred hand, nails dig into your skin as he compels you to look into his face. He whistles, short and sweet before ordering; “Eyes on us, hon.”

His scolding has you twitching around him, having allowed you a grace period to adjust to his size.

“Yes.” You nod, not trusting your mouth to coherently say anything else.

“Good girl.”

Untitled, Harvey Bullock, fluff

If you see something, no you didn’t. That’s number one unspoken rule of Gotham.

But after witnessing what happened to the poor boy, you just couldn’t stay quiet. Now the city was punishing you by having your witness statement be taken by the hottest cop the GCPD had to offer. Sure, he was rough around edges, scruffy beard, beer belly and an Irish American accent to die for. He was definitely a drunk, that much was evident from the hint of whisky on his breath but damn if that didn’t add to his bruiser charm.

Untitled, [DBD] Leatherface, Horror & smut – partly inspired by that scene from TCM2 CWs: Mentions of gore

How long would this go on for? Until he was finished? Until he grew bored of you? And then what? He could drive his saw straight into within second, the sound of him revving its engine would serve as your only warning before he mutilated you, before he swung forward and carved your body in two. It's not as if you could just take off right now. He had you completely cornered. Not just geographically, but physically – leather face is 6'3 and jacked. A single flinch in a direction he didn't like and he could have you pinned, sawed, and quartered in second.

(Re-)Learning to swim, Jason Voorhees, Fluff CWs: Captivity, mentions of violence

Taking a deep breath, you creep deeper into the lake, submerging yourself up to your waist. The water looks so peaceful and calm. Before Jason, water had been your one true love. Swimming had given you an escape from the trials of everyday life.

Jason was the opposite, and you completely understood why. You're heart clenched at the thought of it. Even before you'd come to know and love him, you'd felt compassion for his story. Jason didn't deserve what happened to him. Blood hadn't been spilt that day but it stained the hands of the incompetent counsellor that night. Water it seemed had always been his foe. He drowned here in one life, was chained and trapped beneath its waves in another.

You understood why he avoided it. He was always vigilant of it, he had traps and weapons to take down anyone who tried swim to sail away from him without having to venture to deep, but walking beside the Lake, taking a boat out, or simply swimming in it, was never something you could get him to agree to during the small times the two of you had the area to yourselves.

So, you were going to do it alone. You were reclaiming a part of yourself, doing something just for you.

It was late May, a few weeks before police did their final searches, ticking the last few boxes before they let counsellors in to start setting up camp. You waited until Jason left to do his own rounds before slipping out into the darkness. He wouldn't have let you go if you'd told him your plan. He'd have crossed his arms and shaken his head at you. If that failed he's have held you, crushing you in his loving embrace as a way of begging you not to go, not to the Lake, to dangerous, and you would have caved. Listening to his sad hums, looking into his pleading eyes would have swayed you to stay home.

You had to wait until he left. No doubt he'd know, he seems to have some kind of connection to the camp and its goings on. He'll know where you've been and what you've been doing and he'll watch you even closer, but it needed to be done.

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