#he’s barely changed on the outside 🥺 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukunas-wife · 3 months

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hhey, I accidentally came across your channel and read everything that was there, it's too good. could you write a story about how Yuji grows up? how he starts fighting with opponents or something like that :D?

I suck at writing fighting I’m sorry 😭 I’m terrible honestly so I did it in a different way I apologize in advance 🥺🤍

Yuji growing up UNDER SUKUNA IS CRAZY because 1 Ryomen’s cursed presence is so strong that Yuji’s cursed energy happened to be tied up all cute and pretty with a little cursed energy ribbon made of Sukuna’s cursed energy.

The integration of the two led Yuji to be able to use Malevolent Shrine

🥹 Made his daddy proud the day the three of you were outside and someone tried to ambush your little family, Yuji’s eyes widened seeing his dad calmly bring his hands together “Domain Expansion, Malevolent Shrine.”

The world flashed before Yuji’s eyes with the sound of a bell and drip. It was after that moment when everything was clear little ⅘ year old Yuji pushed his hands together mimicking his father trying to be cool “Domain expansion! Malevolent Shrine!”

Neither you nor Sukuna expected it to work, until it did-

There was Sukuna protecting you from Yuji’s unstable barely registering domain. After everything was said and done. The two of you couldn’t help but look at each other. “Did… did he” Sukuna let you go, “Yuji..”

Yuji ran at his dad with the biggest smile, screaming “did you see that!? Did you!? Did you!?” When Sukuna picked him up, throwing him up into the air, “I did! We need to talk about your little domain.”

That’s where he started his training under his father because he knew no one else could train him as well as he could. It evolved to Yuji being able to use his own energy in fighting. It was the cutest thing seeing your son's little fist while he punched away at some poor little punching bag with his father there mocking him to get him angry to put more curse behind his hits.

“Aw, this sack of sand too much for you brat? Move- I’ll show you how to really put some curse behind it.”

Yuji watched how his dad pinned the punching sack to post and took a fighting stance, in his eyes he could see the red cursed energy glowing skeins his fathers fists and when he struck it was over. The post and sack were nothing, “I WANNA DO THAT!”

It was a beautiful and cursed sight, Ryomen Yuji, (the name changes based on how my brain works I’m sorry 🥹) , he had softer features, but he had developed similar markings to his father. The only thing keeping him from being his father was the vast size difference. He had even taken to using a robe similar to his dads older style.

Ryomen Yuji wasn’t a tyrant, but if he turned out, he very much could be just a cruel man as his father.

Especially when Jujutsu Sorcerer started to trail after him thinking if they could kill the son the father would bend.

They laid corrected in their own pools of blood.

His first solo fight was when he had turned 15 and he asked if he could go to the town to gay a few things of his own. You were weary feeling something was bound to happen, Sukuna pulled you into his side assuring you there is no doubt in his mind Yuji would be able to take care of himself, he would know, he trained him for the last eleven years.

So you let him leave, he was surrounded not too soon before reaching the village, “IT'S RYOMEN SUKUNA!”

His eyes were quick to move around the group “FOOL THAT'S NOT RYOMEN SUKUNA THAT'S-… even better, Ryomen Sukuna may be a monster but even then this boy looks well enough to know someone has to give a damn about him, we need to restrict him.”

There was Yuji imbuing his cursed energy into his fists, it was a scene to watch how he could punch through a man's chest like silk tofu. How easily he could take a man’s head in his hand digging his fingers into their back around their spine to separate them entirely.

He was ágile, being attacked from both sides by men with cursed tools. Blades on chains, swinging in opposing directions grazing his chest and back as he turned to doing his best to avoid them, he took one chain wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to that man pulling the chain I’ve this shoulder sending the man flying into the air. He turned facing the second who was still running at him catching him by taking his face in his hand and crushing his face in , taking the 2nd man’s blade he spun the chain around before slinging the blade at the falling sorcerer piercing his skull leaving him to fall dead to the ground. He carried on with brute force until another wave of Sorcerer's came, he was huffing but he was thrilled, every year of training, every technique and day spent bleeding, fighting and pouring every ounce of energy and raw brute strength and cursed energy.

“Domain Expansion” it felt like time froze, “Malevolent Shrine.”

Yuji’s domain wasn’t as vast as his fathers, but was equally intimidating. There he stood on the pile of skulls in front of the shrine, hands pressed together, “You will see true power.”

It felt like the domain shook when he uttered the simple word “..cleave…” It was a sure hit taking out every living being in the area.

—- —- —- —-

But of course, like father, like son. When Sukuna was going to leave you to go tend to “business” Yuji begged to go, leaving you home with Anya and for a girls week which turned to a girls month.

During this month your boys had learned one thing in battle, they could merge their domains in a way no one else would ever be able to.

Sukuna had heard rumours of some prestigious clan that wanted his head, and if its head they wanted, he decided he’d personally deliver it personally into their city and into their pathetic little lives. Why wait for the fight to come to his home and put his little family at risk when he could go to the fight and strike while the steel is hot and brittle.

That was until Yuji started to beg to go, no matter how many times Sukuna would tell him no he would persist he go with his father. Finally after talking to you, and even when you didn’t want to let him go, Yuji begged and begged using his little puppy eyed beg you caved and said if either of them came back hurt or didn’t come back at all you would remarry and forget about both of them. It was a bluff but the jealousy was enough to make Sukuna squint at you before whacking Yuji on the back of his head lightly, “Let’s go brat, the sooner we get this done the sooner we come back home and your mother won’t roll in her grave.”

Still Sukuna pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you making Anya and Yuji exaggeratedly “eewww” before he left.

They warped quickly now that Sukuna was in a snappy mood, “pfft, remarry, that woman couldn’t find a man worth one of my- oh?”

It was as if the invasion was anticipated, Sukuna used a lower arm to push Yuji behind him, “Stand back brat, I said you could come, I never said you could fight.” It was an instant, every archer and swordsmen surrounding the two had either been cleaved or lit a light. ”Now we’re really going to have some fun.”

Yuji trailed after his father watching how he barreled through everything and everyone with no regard, his actions were quick and precise. He made their way straight to the centre of the shinden-zukuri with ease. Yuji was astounded, his father would always make minimal movement with maximum damage, but this was different, he was just showing off. They were surrounded and the room was suffocating with the large amounts or pressure from cursed energy flowing. He backed up to Sukuna, and they stood back to back, Yuji was ready to fight, Sukuna was amused and having the time of his life, he would win and there was no doubt in his mind. The two fought in a way that reminded Sukuna of the day you fought by his side. A side of you not even his children would ever know. They danced in circles, taking life after life until they were forced closer, as if they had the same unspoken idea both of them expanded their domain not letting the other know.

The world shook in the wake of the combined domain, the humans witnessing the ethereal domain would die without fail.

The shrines combined to make a full size Sanmon gate, strikingly similar to the former shrine. The only difference was that Sukuna stood there like the god Vishnu, Two hands holding his domain symbol just above Yuji’s height level, the other two holding his tools up and on display, Yuji was a step below him with hands in the matching domain form. The two shared a single brain cell in that moment, “Malevolent Temple.”

It had no barrier, it turned into an open space, the hits were guaranteed. In the end when every living thing in the vicinity was reduced to nothing and the domain closed, it came to show even the former shinden-zukuri has been reduced to dust on the ground.

What he would’ve stretched over days of fun they had completed in mere seconds. But now that his eyes had been opened to this new found power he was intrigued and needed to know more.

This led to Sukuna dragging Yuji around with him to test the limits of their new found glory for weeks until he finally allowed Yuji to return home. You weren’t frantic when they returned because Uraume had calmed your beating heart once a week with the messenger birds you had begged him to take along. But you were scared because Sukuna did not slip into bed as he usually would, instead he scooped you up, threw you over his shoulder and brought you outside with him, “Let’s go woman.” Was all you heard as you were shaken awake and met with the morning's cold air, “kuna, love, I’m so tired.”

You felt Sukuna land a smack on your rump, “Just five minutes and I’ll carry you back.” You did your best to look back at him and you caught him looking back at you with a smug smile, “fine.”

He sat you on the steps to your home, where you saw Yuji, he had that look of excitement, his eyes were gleaming the way they would as a child when he’d see his father use a new technique.

“Mom! Mom! You’re going to love this!” You smiled as Sukuna rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand letting it slip from his hold as he made his way back to Yuji.

Tag List: Permanent because this doesn’t feel very squishy 🥺

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz

@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

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Can we get a drabble of someone older, of yn and jungkook waking up for the first time in jk house 🥺 perhaps in jk pov because it was his first like after years of divorce 😭 and like as per he said “my bed never witness me with others” 😆😆

Of course! Went a bit overboard pls I love them-

-> Masterlist

He's stretching his limbs a little, like usual after waking up, yawning just to notice that this time, he's not alone in bed.

He feels a lot better being back at home and not in hospital- even though it's empty here, it's still a place of safety and comfort to him. And right now, it feels even more as such- as you still sleep soundly next to him in his large bed, filling it up with warmth and a sense of serene company.

It's not at all the first time he wakes up next to a woman. But somehow, this is entirely new.

You're turned towards him even while not conscious, one of your hands touching his body, even though it's just resting on his lower stomach beneath the covers. Nothing intimate happened last night before you went to bed- mostly because you were too worried about his physical condition to let him initiate anything, but even so, it feels like it did.

Because he remembers, back in the day, Evelyn would only sleep so close to him in bed after sex- her afterglow clouding her mind, making her most likely believe she loved him.

He knows she didn't. She only loved what he was bringing to the table.

But you don't care about that. You care about him as a person, and it's evident in how you slowly wake up, barely so, mind probably slipping out of your deep stage of sleep to get ready to become conscious in a few minutes. Eyes fluttering beneath your lids, head so close your forehead is resting against his shoulder, arm laid over his body. Even one of your legs is entangled with his, feet nowhere near as cold as they were when you'd slipped under the blankets last night.

You're so peaceful like this. There's not a hint of worry on your face.

His face is flinching a bit as he gets reminded of his injuries, while attempting to turn over a bit to hold you- he wants to just forget everything else and bathe in whatever this moment is. But it's somewhat shattered by his phone vibrating and ringing outside in the kitchen- waking you up, eyes slowly opening to look at him.

"Oh.." you mumble, noticing what the sound is, before you turn onto your back to stretch fully, making him both a bit jealous of your ability to do so compared to him, and also feel disappointed that this is now the start to a new day, reality pulling you both back in. "Should I.. uh.." you speak mostly to yourself, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "..I'll get it for you-" you start, but he shakes his head, instead ignores his painful muscles as he pulls you in, almost on top of him. "Jungkook?"

"No, leave it." He denies, voice raspy and low in tone as it's the first words he speaks. "Stay." He says, taking in a deep breath, smell of both your shampoo and his bodywash filling his mind.

A mixture of both of you combined, creating something new.

Even his own shower products smell oddly different on your skin, and he can't say he's upset about it. If you ever moved in with him, would you decorate the place? Want new furniture, or change the layout of things? He hates when people mess with his stuff, but somehow, he wants you to do just that in here. Give it a distinctive touch of yours, offer him a reminder that he's not alone anymore even if you’re not here.

"Do you want breakfast?" You wonder sleepily, looking at him with eyes barely open.

"Hmhm." He hums affirmative. There's no use in running away from reality after all.

"There was a cat here." You giggle, out of context, but still making him smile. "In my dream." You explain further, yawning, his hand on your back gently running over the skin beneath your shirt. He likes this. No bra straps hindering his traveling hand, your words without filter as your standard amount of fear don't withhold any of your thoughts for now.

"A cat?" He asks, and you nod.

"It was.. brown. And fluffy." You say, resting your face on his bare chest. "It kept jumping on the kitchen counter. And you kept telling it off for it." You laugh. "But it just jumped back on, every time."

"Well, cats are quite stubborn." He tells you, watching the light outside from the sun occasionally change due to the could passing, curtains hiding you both away from the world. "I'm more of.. a dog person."

"Me too." You nod. "But there's a breed of cat that's kind of.. like dogs. Really affectionate. And they meow a lot." You say, stretching your legs for a second. "But they have really long fur. And it's white."

"They must feel very soft though." He chuckles. You nod.

"Yeah.." you admit. "But I'd have to get one of these.. these rollers with the sticky tape. To get all the fur off of your suits and shirts." You giggle. "..Or you might become a walking pet-allergy detector in your office..." you mumble, and he gets the joke-

But he also has to think for a moment.

You, in his bedroom, folding his clothes for him as he prepares for a business trip. You, making sure he doesn't forget anything the day after, kissing him goodbye at the door as you wait for him to return back. You, coming home from your own place of work while he's already home, cooking dinner.

All of the things he's never had.

"Your watch stopped." You notice, tapping on the glass top of it. He'd forgotten to take it off last night, and you're right- the delicate pieces are attempting to move, but the battery seems to be giving up.

"Because of you." He mumbles, leaning over you just a little, body still too sore. "You stop time for me." He smiles, and you giggle, accepting his kiss however before you escape into the bathroom to get ready for the day. And while you might think he was joking, he quite honestly wasn't.

Because time truly appears to become meaningless when he's with you.

He can't help but laugh a little faintly into his hands over his face, for how ridiculous this all feels. Like a crush back when he was still in school, he's excited but also panicking about what to do. He should have this all under control. This isn't his first relationship. And yet, all of this feels new, foreign, unknown.

But also truly exciting.

The anticipation for what might be filling his veins, and fueling his eagerness to show you that what you dream about doesn't have to just stay in your head. You want a cat? He'll get two so they're not lonely, no matter if they shed way too much for his expensive taste in suits and attire in general. You want a dog? Absolutely no issue. He'll get you anything you want, but this time, in your case, he's not doing it to keep you close, to make sure you don't leave-

But because you deserve it. And he doesn't just want to treat you right-

He wants to treat you the best anyone can.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic

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sweetdreamsbuck · 1 year

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napping on the couch together if you feel so inclined 🥺💖

I'm here

bucky x f!reader (gif not indicative of reader description)

w.c: 2.5k

a/n: Col, this strayed far from what it was originally meant to be, but I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy it<3

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

Bucky’s never been one to be overbearing, in any way.

Protective and doting, certainly– never so that his attentive means of care made you feel anything but cherished, supported, grounded.

Your Bucky.

Meeting you, loving you, allowing something so priceless into his world, has changed everything for him. There’s a burning need to be the one constant in your life that knows you. To be the man who can take the pressures of the world from off of your shoulders with ease, weaving himself around every twinge of sadness, eclipsing all murmurs of insignificance and unrest, until all you know is the weight of his breath shouldering your heart.

“You listenin’ to me?” it’s not a question he ever finds himself asking, but tonight, his girl’s exhausted. Completely drained. And she came home with the wind knocked out of her lungs and harrowing sobs strangling her light.

Those familiar knuckles, vibranium and oh-so purposeful, stroked along your cheeks while rosy concern emanated from the swells of his own. Bucky finds it necessary now– their delicate dance of outlining the shape of your nose, smoothing the lines of distress and the tremble of your lips resting against his muscles– they’re the culprit of what coaxed your eyes shut in mere seconds.

His hands wield so much power– fragile, firm, thrilling tenderness you weren’t sure existed anywhere else outside of his touch. Impossible not to surrender to, falling deeper and deeper under his protection. But it’s purely selfish now how desperate Bucky is to touch you, to quell every fiber of worry or unease with the brush of his palm. He lives for the moment your body relaxes under his care, all tension and pain evaporating within the caress of his love. “Someone ready for bed?”

His voice is a whisper, a warm and honeyed heaven blanketing every inch of you. How a man of his size embodies the breeze of gentle winds rustling through blades of grass, well. You never have to wonder.

A fearsome beauty to behold, otherworldly– Bucky shines, burnished and ethereal; all of the terrifying Angel you know him to be.

The patter of freezing rain and rough winds plaguing the windows reminded you of how safe you were inside the life you shared. After all the isolating thoughts, after all the feelings of restless insignificance swimming round and round between your ears– Bucky’s here, soothing it all. Erasing any lingering struggle to find your footing, leaving nothing but the ghost of worshiping lips with husky whispers of how proud he is of you, how desperately he loves you with indescribable devotion rushing from his soul.

Each stroke, each breath, each kiss that danced along your skin echoes the sentiment of words Bucky’d shower you with until the day his heart stopped “Oh my sweet girl, I’m here.”

Crying had never felt so safe than while enveloped in his arms, strong hands soothing long paths along your tense back, lips falling protectively against your temple. He touches you as if you're the very thing that lights the sky; his words are hardly enough to prove how much of a miracle you are. Because to him, you are.

His miracle.

His pink lips barely leave your skin as his words sink in– a devastating touch each inch and scar of your being knows; Bucky’s kiss is final. And it lives within each curve, each insecurity, each smile, each ugly secret he knows took all the trust in the world to let him see, loving them enough for the both of you and then some– “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

Bucky’s lips brand the words permanently, in absolution with tremors of his vigorous desire to be everything for you. “I got you. Whatever you need, let me,”– you need him, always.

Tonight hadn’t been any different. After what felt like hours of being shielded by his unwavering tenderness, of sobbing into his chest so rawly Bucky swore he felt his heart shredding in two, trying his hardest to catch all of you and never let go– resting your eyes for a moment against his stomach seemed to be just what you needed. Your head shook against thick muscle, his relaxing fingers slowed at your hairline, “N’am not, not tired. Just keep talking.”

Cool metal etched silent promises down to your hip, his piercing gaze staring at you with that look– the one that says he’s perfectly intent on staying like this, loving you, holding you until the messy and unforgiving world made a bit more sense. He needs it more than you most of the time. And then he’d get to hold you some more; knowing the overwhelming emotion he felt every time he looked at you was at peace within your veins.

“Really?” that deep voice crooned, playful, “‘Cause I think, you’re fallin’ asleep on me.”

Work had been hell the past few weeks while feelings of being alone were at an all-time high. Between wrestling with self-doubt, a workload that had somehow weaseled its way into your life and into the nightmares that kept you tossing and turning, all of the yelling and berating that shook you to your core because of mistakes that were entirely out of your control– of course. It was impossible not to.

You were falling asleep on the gentle thing you could never, ever, get enough of immersing yourself in. The one thing that proved time and time again, you could never be alone while Bucky still had air filling his lungs.

And maybe that’s why it’s so effortless to do so. The one thing that saw all of your broken pieces, the sharp edges you felt would threaten even the strongest– Bucky saw them, could paint them all by name like the scars marring his own body. He held them so tenderly, cherished each piece of you that you deemed burdensome so fiercely; nothing about you was a burden. Bucky admired all of you, desired all of you with a fervent need. It made your head spin, it made you feel whole.

“I’m not, just wanna hear your voice. Promise, I’m awake.” Bucky could hardly find it in himself to blink, not when your lips spread in a sweet smile he hadn’t seen in weeks. So small, so muted compared to the brilliance that nearly brought him to his knees every damn time he was in the presence of one. But it’s yours. “Please…”.

It’s weakening, mesmerizing, the bruise you leave with every display of your love. The serum only makes a man so strong; he’d never get enough of the way you wounded him.

Bucky gleams, and if you weren’t so spent, you’d see the air of ease filling his chest, the expanse of his shoulders quaking with reprieve.

Just when you thought you’d known everything there was to know about being seen, guarded by your very own earth angel, his hand closed around yours, tugging it gently to rest against his sternum. Bucky closed his eyes, leaning down to rest his nose within your knuckles. Inhaling, pulling you apart by the very seams and mending all at once– it seemed almost silly, how necessary his lips feel claiming the skin of your fingers, but your body felt the sensitive accusation of his kiss tenfold, “Even here. I’m here, too.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that blurred your vision if you tried.

There’s a lilt, always, pleasant and solid in his sigh when his eyes meet yours, your nerves buzzing from the way he always breathes you in vying for more. Vibranium tickles the tears under your eyes with adoration, a confirmation, he’d let you pretend you’re not falling asleep, that you really wanted to listen to him ramble on and on– so long as he gets to wound you, too.

That’s all you’ll ever need.

Your body knows, even on the cusp of sleep it craves him. More him, always more. His warmth, his support, the irresistible smell of his skin that always comes before relief. It slowly shifts, uncurling itself from the dip of the couch and closer to where Bucky’s fingers concealed your own.

His hands revel in that, it’s all they itch for; guiding your frame closer until your body collapses with deliverance, lashes teasing against his skin while your breathing slowed even more.

His eyes certainly never risk closing when you burrow further into his chest, hiding that exhausted pout within the shadows of his neck just above rough scar tissue. How could he miss even a second?

The echo of your heart mirrored the air puffing down his neck with every exhale sighed and it’s a revelation. Bucky revels in how perfect it feels to be wanted, to be trusted so deeply by the person who fills every color of his life with undying affection. He takes none of it for granted, especially not the soft hums the most distracting lips fall to adorn his throat with.

And then they melt on his skin, the featherlight promise of Bucky’s miracle resting against his pulse, again and again and again– it’s hardly his fault a shiver eases down his spine. Those damn lips. He’ll never be able to find language to express to you how good it feels, how addicting you are.

He’d do anything for you, be anything for you.

“Alright, sweet girl,” those strong hands wrap around your waist, plush lips greeting your eyelids with a dynamic song that sings I’m here. It’s okay to let go, let go, sweet girl. Let me love you. You’ve heard it countless times– have felt it endlessly since the first moment you invited him in behind those towering, frightening walls of your heart. But it’s soft, orchestrated with vulnerable direction, scruff-laced harmonies whispered against every inch of you, ostinato declarations of desire with a certain timbre only you know the key of “I’ll take care of you, just let me love you.”

“You’re gonna have to hear all about my perfect girl, but I can do that. Jus’let me hold you right.” The couch pillows already share the imprint of your body pressed up against his, of countless hours of entwined limbs and thick muscles sheltered within your arms. Yet, it always feels new, a different welcome each time, somehow more familiar than the last.

Bucky rearranged you both lying with his back nestled in the cushions, cradling you right atop his heart. “She’s so bright, the smartest.” Long fingers lifted under your chin, catching your eyes in their fight to stay open.

“And she’s the kindest soul, swear she’s made of stars.” He couldn’t help himself; that breathtaking glimmer washing so peacefully over your face, the trying lift of your mouth; he smoothed the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before placing a kiss just under your nose, “beautiful,” on the plump of your cheek, “so, so beautiful,” on the corner of your mouth, “precious”. Bucky’s lips meld so softly with your own, your breath tasting of surrender, of bliss.

A sniffle slipped out, once then twice. “Strong. So damn strong,” a third time is when your body followed through with its fate, shaking slightly against him.

The way he holds you, knows you, worships you, leaving no room for questioning the torrents of emotion he treads– it’s maddening. Bucky walks with the years of his own pain, yet bleeds with the certainty of just how easy it is to love you, to devour you whole with the joyous bruise of being loved in return.

“Shh hey, hey…what?” he worried, rubbing a calloused thumb from your quivering lip all the way to your creased forehead.

“What what?”

Forced bemusement of his concern rumbled delightedly beneath you, “You’re okay,” his nose bumped against yours, lips following, “but what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” Bucky’s nose wiggled down to behind your ear, peppering quick pecks on the skin there until you were squirming.

You giggled– oh god you fucking giggle and Bucky’s ruined. It erupted, and he felt it everywhere; goosebumps, swirling until they bled so potent beneath his skin. Nothing else could matter more than the promising sound of the home he’s allowed himself to live in.

“I don’t know,” he feels it in your eyes– so telling of the devotion Bucky deserves– honest, and they can’t seem to get enough of the curve of his nose, the freckles that dance along the high points of his concerned features. Those serene, startling blue eyes. Always seeing you, always longing for you.

Home. Your Bucky.

“I’m just so tired.”

Bucky would relive every moment he’s endured to always know what it feels like to be loved by you, to be clung to in your most vulnerable of states, with glazed-over eyes tormented and drowsy, to know of the rapture that exists in holding you tight until the air drowning your lungs is full of his love, of soothing breaths. To nurture you, accept your feelings and emotions with open hands, however they may present themselves.

He wants it all. Just you.

Bucky could only pull you closer, breathing you in as plump lips gently lay on your forehead, resolute arms embracing you with reverence.

He clears his throat, ready for you to listen, “Sometimes, I wonder how I got here. You know how special this is to me? The light of my dreams, so damn comfortable in my arms. Did’ya know that? Used to dream of you,” his knuckles swiped away the remaining wet trails from your face, calloused fingers softly spidering along your shoulders.

“Really? My Bucky?”

My Bucky– god he could burst.

The flush spreading along his cheeks hardly phased him, he nestled his nose against you further, nodding.

“Didn’t ever get to see you, but I know it. Had to be you, watching over me. Better than I could have even imagined. Sweetest damn eyes, hurts my chest a little just thinking about going a whole lifetime without ever knowing them. Prettiest heart in the whole world, you save me a little more every time I look at ya. When I get to hold you. You have no idea what you are to me.”

Me? your tongue attempted. It comes out as more of a yawn, already asleep.

“All I ever needed. Lucky bastard I am, huh?” Bucky hates how the world seems to take your compassion for granted, walking all over your kindness as if it’s expendable. It’s not. Not even a little bit. God only knows the serenity it’s granted him, of the fresh air it’s offered Bucky to live within each day.

“You’re the first thing I’ve had in a long time. And you make me feel whole, capable. I could be myself, learn to, at least. Not… disappear. Could never do that, not now. I have years to make up for, a whole life to live. A home to get back to at the end of the day. And I got the sweetest thing in the whole damn universe to love. You got no idea…”

A questioning whimper of his name rumbles against his throat, safe and asleep in the soundness of his chest.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder– the only metal that would ever know the enormity of what a miracle you were– just as his eyelids drift closed.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring down, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder; the only metal that truly knew the enormity of what a miracle you were; just as his eyelids drift closed.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x f!reader

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sincerelyrki · 2 months

Text

MINI SKIRT

↳ eighteen : my little werewolf🥺

wc : 882

warnings : profanity. mentions of killing people.

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You tried not to let Jake’s constant glances at the bushes affect you, trying your best to ignore it and keep the conversations going.

But the way he was acting was becoming almost too frantic, his entire demeanour changing the longer he looked.

You had a rough idea about what he was watching for, being mindful of his career and trying not to judge him too harshly.

It was pretty easy to tell that he hadn’t been out much, his brazen outbursts speaking for themselves. But you didn’t think it was to the point where he was watching his back everything second.

Every small noise made him flinch, his body almost shrinking into himself as he attempted to face away from the noise.

Even though it was different to what you were used to, you couldn’t help but find his actions adoring.

The first time Jake flinched you had proposed to go somewhere else, to another store more remote than the one you were at now. Jake refused, shaking his head profusely as he gave a firm pout. “No, I want to bring you to my favourite Prada.” The sentence became the one he would repeat every time you checked on him.

But as Jake flinched as another one of the bushes twinged you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up. “Are you sure you’re okay? I promise you’re more important than riding in a pea car”

You were only half joking, the thought of riding in the pea car again caused goosebumps to swell along the entirety of your forearms.

Jake didn’t answer right away, opting to just reach out and gently grab a hold of your thumb. You mindless followed him, completely distracted by the way his fingers wrapped around your singular finger. Your heart raced at the action, a blush gracing your cheeks as you shamelessly smiled at yourself.

Jake wasn’t completely aware of his actions, his attention far too attached to maneuvering around the large fountain and getting into the Prada store located at the end of the outlet.

The second you entered the store Jake gently pulled you against his side, blocking your body from being seen outside.

Jake leaned down to your ear, his lips barely grazing your skin as one of his hands brushed the hair off your shoulder. “I saw Niki” Your body froze at his words, jaw-dropping in shock before you tried peeking around his shoulder.

Jake allowed you to look over him, his head pulling back far enough to watch your expression. “He’s been following us the entire time”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he completed his statement- “he’s been trying to hide in the bushes” A small giggle left your lips and the thought of a six-foot-whatever man trying to crouch behind bushes.

Jake smiled at your reaction, his anger towards the boy melting and reforming itself into a wave of gratefulness. Jake would force the man to follow them a million times, to hide in the bush however amount of times he could, just so he could see you laugh again.

“He’s not alone, I see Heeseung too” Jake closed his eyes and tilted his head back, everything finally made sense. Riki tended to bring trouble where he went, that so-called “trouble” always came in the form of either Jake himself, or Heeseung.

“Of course he is” Jake hissed under his breath, the image of the two of them huddling together under bushes half their sizes would’ve been humourous in any other situation.

Any situation that didn’t include you and him, alone. His eyes snapped open as a small exclamation left your lips, your smaller hands coming up to wrap around his jacket sleeves. “Jake, they’re all here!”

He looked over his shoulder, jaw-dropping at the sight of the rest of his members emerging together and speed-walking towards him. “Wait, Riki’s jeans are so cute” You let go of Jake as you rounded him, walking away and towards the door.

Jake could do nothing but glare at the six boys as they all waved at you, amazed smiles on their lips as they looked you up and down.

Jake wasn’t sure when he was going to formally introduce you to his members, the need to keep you to himself for a bit longer hovering over his head.

It’s barely been a week since he’d met you, but everyone couldn’t stop themselves from throwing question after question at him. They all expected Jake to know every single thing about you, and surprisingly, he was able to answer more than half of their instantaneous questions.

“Hey! I’m Heeseung, what’s your name?” Heeseung threw you a charming smile, his hand coming out between the two of you for a handshake.

Well, it seemed that Jake could answer every question except for that one. Jake knew everything from your favourite colour to your least favourite childhood movie, but he didn't know the simplest thing. Jake Sim didn’t know your name.

“I’m Yn, it’s nice to meet you Heeseung.” Jake practically saw his world ignite around him, flames of envy climbing up from the ground beneath him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet a pretty girl like you.”

The second Jake got home he was going to kill all of them, starting with Heeseung.

a/n : literally hate my writing but that’s fine 💪 anyways yn met enha and jake not knowing her name? he’s always called her prada girl and never actually realized he never got her name😭

SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).

taglist is OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added xoxo [message to be removed]

taglist one (1) :

@vousty @iheartjayke @kgneptun @woninluv @memooooca @rosas-in-the-garden @thea-herondale @letters2won @certified-ni-ki-lover @wonpoem @eunbiland @hae-luvr @t00miee @bbangricz @tytrackfebreze @cafeyuns @aerivrs @seunnimg @enhytan @enhaz1 @neocockthotology @jiawji @miumiuestmoi @sophi-ee @cha0thicpisces @manooffline @glassesyunjin @rinahch @jaklvbucb @rikizm @ilyjxdz @mnxnii @n1k1mura @hhoonsbaby @xiaoderrrr @artstaeh @nikisuar @who-tf-soddhi @jakeslvt @hohohobo @natsukee @fakeuwus @ramenoil @aeminju @lanapaz @seunghancore @heartswonn @jakeyverse @l1lyanah @sunpov @yoitsr @jessicadacollest @h4918ymc @jeongintwt @oldjws @herebyaccident0 @kyrojackson @haechansbbg | bold = can’t tag

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freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 1 year

Note

can I request a m!reader with Task Force 141, (feel free to add any other group if you w) very angsty…..I NEEF THE ANGST OK???? PLS

the m!reader gets placed into the 141, just being a very joyful and playfully sarcastic person all around that everyone can get along with well. M!reader suffers from depression and is very good at masking it, putting up a really strong facade and front. He is pretty introverted and extroverted, he can be very active but also clammy and avoidant at times when he is asked personal questions, deflecting them subtly. He’s mostly quiet-ish, not too loud but loud enough sometimes you can hear him

M!reader is trying to be useful to 141, doing anything but relaxing for a moment. The first to notice anything strange would be Ghost or Price, just a weird change in their mood as they do. Slowly his mask is breaking as they could see the life in his eyes practically slowly drain away, looking as if he had mentally broken

Shortly after all of 141 notices eventually, they would sometimes ask or pry, but m!reader responds with a smile and re-assurance but it’s bs….. they can feel it too but he is still telling them he’s alright. M!reader is slowly losing it internally, but anyways………..,.😭😭😭😭😭😭

M!reader always goes outside during the night and silently breaks down on rare occasions, when he does he just letting the tears fall. This time though 141 follows him outside where m!reader breaks down, anguished filled cries and many years of mental and or physical torment where it makes someone’s heart ache. M!reader is not known to cry so this is a first for them, whispering to himself self-deprecation as 141 now just steps in and comforts the poor m!reader 🥺🥺

[A/n:Thank you for requesting]

Summary:On the outside your a super fun and cheerful guy but in the inside your hurting and you slowly start to lose your cheerfulness

Type:Scenario: 141 X M!Reader

Version:Mw2

You were the most cheerful person. Always having a large smile on your face, cheering others up, etc, etc. You were a happy guy, sorta. There were times when your mask would break, showing your unsettling blank face staring off, but that only happens when you're alone. If someone finds you like that, you were originally alone. Some people, like Ghost, had doubted your happiness due to the fact your in the military, you've seen hundreds die, you've possible been tortured, kidnapped, starved, had to survive with barely anything at your grasp, he wouldn't know, you didn't originally join the 141, so he didn't know, but what Ghost did know was the smile never left, your eyes would sometimes tell other stories but the smile, it was like...frozen there, forever. Price was another to suspect you, mainly because you avoid personal questions like it's a grenade, aka as much as possible you try to run away from it, or throw it back. Getting something personal out of you was like finding a whale in Ohio(as an ohioan, there are no whales. But there a law about them), it's not gonna happen. Trust Price, he's tried. But other than that, only the sometimes emotionless eyes or sad eyes make him wonder if you're really happy. No one else really noticed. They didn't pay enough attention or didn't spend enough time with you to notice. But either way, it wasn't easy to notice. But eventually, you started to break, every act you've put on it coming to an end. Your smile became weaker, less happy. Your eyes become droppy with sadness. You stopped being so cheerful, less talkive, and you couldn't hold on to the act much longer. You stayed outside longer, the crying for hours on end, you were stressed, overworked, overwhelmed, sad, a lot of things but happy wasn't one of them. You tried to talk to Price, but it didn't work. He was either too busy or you were too scared. You also tried telling Rodolfo, That didn't work either. You changed the subject before even mentioning the original subject. You started to activity avoid mentioning it. How much longer could you hold up? Not much longer, let's say that. It's currently taking everything in your power to not break down in front of everyone. It is hard even lasting all day. Shivering from the cold, you hug your knees to your chest, thinking about how to deal with tomorrow. You had nothing planned, but you heard Soap was gonna try and hang out with you, which you were fine with. Sighing, you wiped your tears and stood up. Dusting your pants off, you walked back inside, telling everyone you were just tired when they asked if you were okay. Laying down you looked over at Gaz, your bunk mate, who was asleep, not necessarily sound asleep since he snores a lot, along with random words, like mac...one of the most common words he says. Sometimes you think it has something to do with mac & cheese, that his one of his favorite easy meals to eat. Rolling back over, you let out a small whimper, holding back your tears. You hugged yourself and took a deep breath. Letting yourself fall asleep, for once. When you woke up, Gaz was gently shaking you. Looking at him, it was abit blurry and the light shining in your eyes made it hurt to look in his direction.

"Heeeyyy, morning sleepy head. You need to get up we got training to do"

Gaz smiled at you, a warming smile that would make your heart warm slightly. Giving a weak smile back, you slowly got up. It was more difficult than most days. It was like you had shackles weighing you down. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared down at the floor watching the shadow of Gaz go from one side to the other side. He was walking around getting ready for the day. Looking up at him, you watched him tighten his belt before looking over.

"You gonna get ready?"

He still had that smile. Nodding, you stood up and hurried to get ready. Once you're done getting ready, Gaz had already left the room. Looking in your mirror, you took a deep breath a couple of times, making eye contact with yourself. You saw those sad eyes, rubbing your eyes. You looked back at yourself, still with sad eyes. You sighed and gave a smile, making sure to have the wrinkles by your eyes to give the effect of a real smile. Nodding to yourself, you walked out and headed to where Gaz was. You did your best, not enough to please Ghost, but enough to not break down. Going into the kitchen, you stood there staring at the sink. You rarely eat, ever since that wave if depression hit you for the first time your eating habits got worse and worse, you got skinner and skinner, but stronger since you were in the military. Sighing you walked out of the kitchen without eating anything, again. König watched you leave, confused he looked at the skin where you were looking. There was only a cup overfilled with water, but you could see your reflection. König looked the way you left. You walked with your head low, staring at the floor you walked on. Everyone made sure not to run into you or make sure you don't run into them. Walking to Prices office you knocked on the door. Silence. Groaning you knocked again. More Silence.

"Captain Price!"

You yelled with the happiest tone you could muster. Again, silence.

"Alright, I'm coming in"

Opening the door you peeked in.

"Captain....?"

It was dark, flicking the light on you looked around confused. Price wasn't there at all. Sighing you turned around, turning the light off and closing the door, you looked around turning to think of where he could have gone. Walking around you looked for the captain, and you kept looking until evening. Looking over you seen Soap looking at you from across the room. Smiling, he waved you over. Smiling back at him with a wide, warm smile, you trotted over to him.

"Hey Soap, how's it going?"

You and Soap talked for awhile. Cracking jokes, talking about multiple different things, etc. After awhile you said you had to go. Going outside you looked around for Price alittle more, sighing you layed down, and stared up at the stary sky. The moon sighing bright.

"Are you sure about this captain?"

Soap asked while they all walked to the back door. Captain had seen how cautious and panicked you looked awhile looking for him. So much so that you didn't notice him. Ghost was walking next to Soap, with Gaz behind them trying to keep up with them, a tad bit to tired to fully process what's going on.

"You didn't see his face, now did you?"

Price looked back at Soap who shook his head no. Nodding Price opened the doors with both hands, looking around he seen you laying down, staring up at the sky quite far away from them.

"There"

Price didn't point at you or nothing, just hurried over to you. Before he could say anything, Ghost stopped him.

"Price."

Price stopped and looked at Ghost.

"He's crying, seems to have been going on for awhile"

Looking back at you, Price saw your hand wiping your eyes, sobbing quietly, you muttered to yourself. Price looked at you with guilt, now understanding all those times you walked into his room, just about every day. Standing over you, Price looked down. Seeing your fearful shocked eyes, filled with tears, your cheeks shiny from crying. Price signed and crouched down. Gaz leaned against Price, still tired. Soap and Ghost where standing next to Price, also looking down at your hopeless body. Price his hand on your cheek, rubbing away your tears.

"It's alright son, no need to hide it."

Gaz snapped out of it when he heard that. Using Price's shoulder as a lift, looking at you, he gasped. He's never seen you so weak, so vulnerable. Letting out a loud hic, you grabbed Price's hand, ugly crying you let Price hold you.

"Let it all out, your safe here."

You sat up, hugging Price tightly. You cried into his shoulder, hard. Soap dropped to his knees and hugged you, it's the most he could do right now, he had nothing he could say. The lump in his throat preventing him from saying much.

"We got you..y/n we got you, okay?"

Soap whispered in your ear, hoping to calm you down, even just alittle bit. Gaz patted your head, pulling your head away from Prices shoulder you looked up at him. Smiling, Gaz gently caressed your head. Giving warm to your worn out brain, that's corrupted with the wrong thoughts and ideas.

"Hey..y/n,"

You looked at Ghost.

"Why did you hide? We understand if you can't keep going, you knew that, didn't you? We're here to help, that's the point of the military"

Your eyes widened, you didn't have a answer for him. You didn't have an reason.

"I-I..."

You couldn't give an answer. Ghost let out a small sign, not one of disappointment or anything negative. It's just that small air he's been holding in without realization.

"No need to answer, just... try to talk to us, even if it's hard."

You nodded, opening your arm to Ghost. He stared at it for a second before joining the hug. For you.

[A/n:I'm not sure if this is all that good 😅. I hope you enjoyed]

#cod 141 #cod task force 141 #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #call of duty mw2 #mw2 x male reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x male reader #cod mw2 x reader

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Note

I would love to read a blurb from you about H taking care of his newborn baby boy 🥺

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

Harry’s hands shake as he slowly reaches down into the bassinet to retrieve the tiny human screaming for his attention and care.

Truth be told, he’s honestly not sure which one of them he’s telling not to cry.

Nevertheless, the squirmy infant begins to wiggle in his large palms as he brings the child up toward his chest.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, you’re all right,” he whispers, doing his best to speak in his most soothing tone. “Another nightmare, huh? S’okay, I get it. I get them, too.”

There’s some wet cooing as Harry cups the child’s bottom and tucks them just under his chin, right over his racing heart.

He’d read that skin-on-skin contact is crucial for newborns to create a strong bond, so now he spends a majority of his time shirtless just in case the child needs that added comfort.

And if Harry is being honest with himself, he probably gets more comfort out of it than the baby.

After a moment, the fussing begins to subside, and Harry exhales the deep breath that had been caught in his lungs as he unwinds. Then, he moves for the rocking chair in the corner of the room, gingerly taking a seat as the baby begins to fidget in his hold.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, swaying them back and forth. “It’s all right, I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you.”

The sweet baby brings its tiny thumb to its mouth, tucking it between small, pouted lips as it begins to settle.

“There you go,” Harry says, lashes fluttering as he looks down. “I know, it’s hard to sleep without her. Especially when it’s all you’ve ever known…”

There’s a catch in Harry’s throat as he glances back up, eyes falling to the side of the bed where she used to lay.

It’s been three weeks. Only three weeks since Harry had to come home from the hospital alone, and he has absolutely no idea how he’s made it this far.

He doesn’t sleep. Which isn’t unusual for new parents, but it goes deeper than that. He doesn’t sleep because he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to sleep in a bed she’s no longer in.

And he doesn’t eat, either. Because he can’t stand to go into the same kitchen she used to love. The same kitchen she used to spend each of her Sunday mornings in as she cooked them pancakes and listened to French music.

He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t leave their house. He’s a stranger to the outside world and apart from when his mother comes over to babysit, he doesn’t talk to anyone.

It’s just him and the baby now.

And he doesn’t exactly want that to change. He doesn’t want to lose these moments because at least he can pretend that he still has her.

She’s everywhere. Her memory lives within this house. Within their child. He can see her in the baby’s eyes. In the way it tries to smile or reach out and grab onto his thumb when it needs him close by.

And it breaks his heart because their baby will never hear the sound of her laugh or feel her reassuring touch.

He has no idea if he’ll be enough. If he can give this child the life it deserves or the love he knows she would have given them.

He can only do what she would want him to.

His best.

“She loved you so much,” Harry whispers, cheek pressing into the baby’s head. “So, so much. The last thing she ever did was hold you and tell you she loved you. You were the most important thing in the world to her.”

The child only coos as it slips back into a dream-like state, still curled up against Harry’s bare chest as he rocks them back and forth.

Harry smiles. “It’s you and me now, okay? Us against the world. Us. Always.”

He means that more than he's ever meant anything in his life.

And that’s a promise he doesn’t plan to break.

It's short, I know, but I AM planning a second part so I can explore all the other amazing ideas you guys sent in, I promise!!

Thank you again so much to the original anon, and I hope you don't mind that I changed a couple tiny details! 😭💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles baby #harry styles baby request

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changbinsboiledegg · 8 months

Note

Hiiii I saw your requests post and wanted to ask for Ateez reactions to breaking up with the reader but meeting again later? ❤️‍🩹🥺

Thank you for your request, angsty atiny 🫶 I hope these are what you were asking for and I hope you enjoy, ILY. :) 🫶🫶

Warnings: Breakups, implied cheating (no one actually cheats ofc), Alcohol mention, let me know if I'm missing any!

Note: Okay, some are fluffy, some are angsty. I tried to mix up the reasonings for the breakups so they all don't have the same outcomes lmao. I'm also sleepy so if there are any typos, please turn a blind eye lmao, ily.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Hongjoong

You and Hongjoong only broke up due to differing career paths, which meant you two barely had time— if any at all, to spend with each other. As the years pass by, you’re much more stable than you were before and with a lot more free time.

But with free time, you tend to think about Hongjoong, which makes you wonder if he thinks of you too.

“Will that be cash or card?” The cashier asked as you had already ordered your drink at a local cafe.

“Cash.” You replied, trying not to feel pressured by the line forming behind you. You opened your wallet to find the cash you were wanting to get rid of but to no avail. The cashier began to get a bit impatient, already stressed about the line.

As you were searching more frantically, the pin pad beeped and a hand had removed his card from the chip reader.

“Thank you.” The all too familiar voice spoke, sending a chill up your spine. You quickly stepped out of the way as Hongjoong had begun to order and pay for his own drink.

With a friendly demeanor, he walked over to where you waited. By this time, you already found the cash you were going to pay for your drink with and held it out towards him, only for him to decline.

You scoffed, slowly retracting your arm with a small smile. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“I see you haven’t either.” Hongjoong joked, poking fun at the way you were trying to offload spare cash, rather than use your card.

You felt the urge to throw your arms around him, but it had been so long that doing so would feel awkward.

“Join me? Let’s catch up.” Hongjoong gestured towards an empty table while you both waited for your drinks.

You had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him again.

Seonghwa

Your breakup was mutual, deciding it was for the best. No malice or sadness came from it, although you found yourself thinking about him from time to time.

You moved into a new apartment following the breakup and a year later, you were still there with your roommate.

You hadn’t heard from Seonghwa since your breakup nor did you really speak about him to anyone. He was just another thought in your mind that gave you comfort knowing your past bond with him was real.

You checked the mail while walking your roommate’s dog for them while they were out and started to head back to your unit, not thinking much about the moving vans outside as new people often moved in and out of the complex.

You headed up the stairs with the dog and slid your keys into the keyhole.

“Move slower! I don’t want to trip!” You heard the voice of a male come up the stairs located two doors from your apartment.

You weren’t sure why, but you wanted to see what they were moving up the stairs. But that’s when you saw him, Seonghwa. Your ex-boyfriend. He was on the other end of the couch he was trying to get up the stairs.

Once they were up stairs, you recognized the other guy, Wooyoung. Seonghwa panted, wiping sweat from his forehead before his eyes fell on you.

“You’re my neighbor?” You both said in sync. Seonghwa chuckled at the unison, walking closer to you.

“I was just thinking about you earlier.” Seonghwa confessed, momentarily forgetting the couch.

Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose, “hello? Couch? You two can talk in a few minutes.”

You grinned, “better get to it. I’ll be right across from you.”

Yunho

It was a misunderstanding that broke up your once perfect relationship. It happened when Yunho started to get back home late. Then he used different excuses every time you asked.

Then you saw him at the jewelry store with someone else, laughing and looking at rings.

Now, a year later after your breakup, with a somewhat mended heart, you tried to walk past that same jewelry store in an attempt to get over the hurt attached to it.

You managed to do so without breaking down, but your chest still hurt. It was a process, after all.

You entered a park an decided to sit on the bench in order to take a moment and breath, letting the peacefulness drown out your thoughts of Yunho.

That was until you noticed someone walking up to you in a hesitant manor.

“Hey.” Yunho sheepishly spoke, hoping you wouldn’t shoo him away. You froze when you looked at him, all of the memories flashing through your mind.

“Hey… Oh my God, it’s been a while.” You spoke in a quiet voice and tried to swallow back the lump in your throat. Yunho smiled a bit, sitting beside you.

“How are you?” Yunho asked. You weren’t sure if you wanted to lie or be honest.

“I—” You stopped yourself. Yunho let out a sharp breath of air, “I’ve been wanting to explain myself since a year ago.”

Right. You never allowed him an explanation. You were too wrapped up in jealousy and your broken heart that you didn’t allow him that.

“Who you saw with me, was a friend.” He began, digging into his pocket, holding a ring. “They were helping me find an engagement ring— for you.”

“You kept it?” You felt your heart stop. You were relieved, but very regretful. Yunho nodded, “I didn’t have the heart to get rid of you.”

He widened his eyes, realizing his mistake, “I mean, it. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.”

You teared up, feeling more and more regretful, “I am so sorry, I should’ve let you explain.”

Yunho wrapped his arms around you, noticing you were on the verge of tears.

“I would have never wanted to hurt you in that way.” Yunho comforted you, even if he needed to be comforted too.

“Let’s start over,” Yunho eventually pulled away with a much wider smile and holding out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Yunho.”

Yeosang

He was set to debut soon and barely had time to see you. But that didn’t mean he didn’t try. Even if it meant sneaking around or losing more sleep. He loved you. He wanted your relationship to work.

But as he was debuting, he was given an ultimatum. You or his career.

“This is your dream. Your future. I will still be here waiting for as long as it takes.” You reassured him. Yeosang tried to convince himself it would be okay. Which it was, but he wished you were there every step of the way.

And you were. Just not in the way he hoped.

You watched from afar, always there, but never interfering with his work. The last thing you wanted was to ruin his dreams.

Three years later, you were at your favorite spot. The place you and Yeosang always visited when you both wanted to go out but not with people around. You visited almost every day, even if you were alone.

You laid down a picnic blanket on a spot and arranged multiples of his and your favorite snacks. It would be your five year anniversary, had his company let him still continue to be with you. You still loved him and even though you knew the relationship was over, you couldn’t bring yourself to date anyone else. After all, you did tell him you would wait for him.

“Happy anniversary.” You mumbled, blowing out a candle you had lit up a few seconds prior.

“Happy anniversary.”

You snapped your head in the direction of his voice, seeing Yeosang. He looked different. Older. But you could tell he was the same person you fell in love with.

He smiled fondly at you as he sat beside you on the blanket. “You actually waited.”

“I told you, I would.” You wanted to hug and kiss him, but you were waiting for the ‘go ahead’ to do so. Yeosang stared at you, his eyes twinkling with gratitude that you didn’t give up after all this time.

“Good. I’m still very much in love with you.”

“What about your company?” You asked, heart racing in your chest. Yeosang smiled a bit wider, rolling his eyes slightly.

“They aren’t as strict as before. That’s why I finally came back.” He emphasized the word ‘finally’.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, pulling him closer to you in your arms, “I missed you so much.”

Yeosang wrapped his arms snuggly around you, “I missed you too.”

San

It was the worst argument you two had since your relationship started. Any other argument prior was minor or over something small that you two made up for later. At first, you thought this would be one of those situations but the louder you two yelled, the more volatile the argument got.

Within that same hour, San left you alone, crying and broken hearted. Within a few days, he came for his stuff.

And two years later, he came back.

It was raining and yet that didn’t stop your doorbell form ringing. You weren’t prepared for San to be on the other side, soaking wet and with alcohol on his breath.

“San? Why are you—” You shook your head, letting him inside and out of the rain before he caught a cold.

“I admit, I got drunk and couldn’t stop thinking about you so… here I am.” San’s speech slurred as you grabbed a towel to give him. San wrapped himself in the towel, shivering slightly. “I still hate you.”

You didn’t respond, knowing he was drunk and you didn’t want to argue— again, with someone who had one too many.

“I hate you, but why am I still so in love with you?” San whined, sitting down on the couch, almost missing it completely had it not been for your help.

“Stay here.” You ignored his words, although you can’t lie; your heart skipped a beat.

You came back with water and dry clothes that he forgotten long ago that you never got around to discarding.

San took the water, drinking some of it before taking the clothes off your hands.

“Go change.” You mumbled, wondering what you were doing helping your drunk ex-boyfriend.

San got up and went to change. When he came back, he looked tired as he leaned against the wall to cover up the fact that he almost stumbled into it first.

“I don’t hate you.” San rubbed his eyes. “I do still love you.”

“San—” ”Please, I know you moved on but let me tell you before I regret this in the morning.” His voice still slurred, leaning his head against the wall as well. “I shouldn’t have left. I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I love you! Why did we argue?”

“San, seriously. I would rather talk about this when you’re not drunk.” You blinked hard to hold back your tears. San walked over to the couch and plopped down with a low grunt.

“I love you.”

“San.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

Mingi

Somewhere along the way, you both fell out of love. It happens to everyone at least once. But you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did when you two actually broke up and parted ways.

Something so good had died down, making the person you loved more than anything into a stranger.

You’ve dated other people since the breakup. But they weren’t Mingi. Even if you fell out of love with him and he you, you couldn’t stop but thinking about him and how good he was to you.

It had been months since your breakup and you tried one more time— for now, to date someone and convince yourself you weren’t just trying to rid your thoughts of Mingi.

You waited for you blind date at the reserved table, looking over the menu.

Right on time, you heard the screeching of a chair being dragged against the floor. Looking up, you immediately widened your eyes.

Mingi was just as surprised, freezing for a second before hesitantly sitting down.

“We’ve come full circle, huh?” Mingi lightheartedly chuckled. You immediately smiled at him, shaking your head.

“Guess so. I won’t be upset if you want to leave.” You offered but deep down, you hoped he would stay.

“I’m hungry, you’re hungry.” Mingi shook his head, “and you’re my date.”

You were so sure you didn’t feel anything for him anymore. How untrue that was.

Mingi’s presence felt natural. Relieving. Familiar.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, handing him a menu. “I think you can guess what I’m getting.”

Mingi slightly smirked, glancing up from the menu at you. He then collected the menus and chuckled.

“Me too.”

Wooyoung

You two had a strong relationship. Never did you ever imagine someone else would try and successfully break it up.

It started when someone Wooyoung worked with became infatuated with him. Slowly, they worked their way into his and your lives and did everything they could to make you look bad. Even going as far as to frame you for cheating.

Unfortunately, Wooyoung believed them.

Now you’re left to pick up the broken pieces of your heart after being wrongfully accused of cheating and even losing friends in the process.

You were home, feeling as lonely as ever when your phone dinged and a message popped up on screen.

You had deleted his number, but you knew right away that was Wooyoung.

-‘Hey. I’m sorry I thought you cheated. I shouldn’t have been quick to believe it. Can we please talk?’

You stared at the message, contemplating whether you actually wanted to see him again or not.

You left him on read for the night, deciding to sleep on your decision. When you woke up the next day, you saw another message from him.

-‘I know I hurt you. Please let’s talk.’

You thought it over, letting your heart speak rather than your brain.

-’Come over.’ you messaged, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

When Wooyoung arrived, he looked as if he ran a marathon, panting and sweating profusely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” Wooyoung took a deep breath to control his breathing. You still felt the hurt, crossing your arms over your chest.

“When did you realize that I never cheated?”

“You had an alibi— Listen, I really screwed up. I don’t know why I didn’t just ask you first instead of jumping to conclusions.” Wooyoung apologized. He had a look of regret as he gave you a pleading look.

“Alibi?”

“Yeah. I was sent screenshots of a conversation about how the evidence of you cheating were fake.” Wooyoung explained, “I really am sorry. I really screwed up, please. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but at least… consider letting me make up for it?”

You felt tears prick your eyes but didn’t dare let them spill. “I will consider it. But just know that you really hurt me.”

Jongho

Your breakup happened due to lack of time together. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong, you were just both busy when the other was free. And feeling like it wasn’t fair to either of you, you both made the decision to break up.

After a few years, you were in the grocery store, going off a list you had been meaning to get to. As you walked down an isle to find the last item you needed, you saw it.

Only it was in the back of the shelf and hard to reach. You let out a sigh, reaching as far as you could.

“Agh! How far back does this damn shelf go?” You cursed to yourself.

“Hey, let me help.”

You were startled for a moment, but when it registered and you turned to face the person who the voice belonged to, you instantly stepped out of the way and let him take care of it.

Within a moment, Jongho managed to maneuver the item closer to you. You grabbed it, mumbling a ‘thank you’, and setting it in your cart.

Jongho seemed to have a look of hope on his features as he examined you.

“Wow, it’s been a long time.” Jongho commented, smiling slightly. You looked at him in exchange, your heart fluttering and hurting all the same when you thought of how much time had passed since your mutual breakup.

“Oh yeah… You look… great.” You complimented, meaning it. Jongho’s smile grew.

“You look… great too.” Jongho’s smile turned into a smirk as he teased the way you paused. You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I am so glad to see you again.” You spoke with sincerity.

“I am so glad to see you too.”

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez reactions #atz x reader #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz reactions #ateez #atz #atz angst

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lionizingheathen · 2 years

Note

hey im new to your blog but I LOVE the way you write sirius, could we have more sirius content pLEAES (soft, dark, fluff, smut, ANYTHING you can give us pleaseee🥺🥺🥺)

Absolutley

FWB!Sirius Black x fem!reader

Riding Sirius's face

Warnings: Smut, face riding, oral sex female recieving

It was nice to know that lazy mornings with Sirius hadn't changed since your arrangement had begun. You were sitting on opposite sides of your room, with Sirius holding the kitten you'd gotten last week. He hadn't put him down since he'd been introduced, it was adorable.

"I want you to ride my face." Sirius said, so casually that the book you were reading tumbled right out of your hands as you looked at him, wide eyed. Had he truly just said that? He wasn't even looking at you, instead he was still petting the small kitten that was curled up on his bare chest, giving Thunder his full attention.

"Excuse me?" You asked, your voice coming out in a bit of a squeak. He looked over at you lazily, giving Thunder one last kiss before he opened the door and set him outside, turning to you.

"You heard me, I know you did." He said before walking to the bathroom to clean his hands. You blinked, trying to think of what to say when he returned.

"Did you... I... Uh... Right now?" You asked, and he nodded, moving his wand from behind his ear to between his teeth so he could pull his hair back, using it as a holder before he grinend at you. Fuck, he was so ready... that was really hot.

"Yeah, if you're down for it. Your roommates are gone and I just really think it'd be an out of body experience." Sirius said, and you let out a laugh, shaking your head as you tried to ignore the throbbing between your thighs. He'd be handling that in a moment.

"Okay, freak... lay down." You said and he grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he bounded past you, collapsing flat on the bed with his arms splayed out to the side, still grinning like a fool.

"Thank you." He said, patting his chest like he was calling an animal. You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand before stepping out of your pants and panties. He gave you a long look until you pulled your shirt off as well, and you watched him lick his lips as he stared at your chest, clearly appreciating the fact that you'd opted to leave your bra off... you'd been together all morning, when would you have had the time to put one on? You crawled up his body, pausing when you straddled his stomach. You heard him let out a strangled moan, and you knew it was because he could feel how wet you were on his skin, but you ignored it. Rules had to be made.

"But if you can't breathe, you have to tell me. It would be mortifying to tell people that you died eating me out." You said, and he rolled his eyes, giving you a look as he sat up on his palms, brushing his lips to yours before he spoke.

"One. That is the best way to die. Two. I am a grown man, I know how to breathe with a beautiful woman getting off on my face." He murmured, and you scoffed and shoved him, making him lay flat on the bed once again as he cackled beneath you. God, he was such a dick.

"You are the fucking worst." You groaned, and he shook his head, raising an eyebrow.

"And yet you're still fucking me, so clearly I'm not that bad." He said, and you flicked his forehead, crossing your arms. If you weren't so fucking horny right now, you'd tell him that this wasn't happening, just to watch him pout.

"Shut up, Sirius."

"Why don't you make me, y/n?" Sirius asked with a smirk, and you nodded, crawling up his chest a bit more, pausing in a kneel just above his face. You watched him bite his lip as he glanced between your cunt and your eyes, almost pleadingly.

"Promise me you'll tell me-." He pulled you down onto his face, giving you a look.

"Stop talking." He mumbled, and then he moved you onto his mouth with ease, and from the moment he began it was an assault of the senses, giving you nowhere to move where he wasn't on your cunt. You clawed down the wall, mouth hanging open as you shuddered, shaking your head. Sirius Black was otherworldly.

"Oh my god..." You whimpered, grinding your hips down on his face frantically, already wanting more even though he was giving you everything that he could. "Fuck, your tongue... So good." You sighed, and he pulled away, making you let out a huff of frustration. That wasn't fucking fair.

"You look amazing from this angle-." You reached down and gripped his hair, pushing his face back into your cunt, but he held back. Fucking bastard.

"Don't stop when you've just started, that's fucking mean." You warned him, and he gave you a cocky smirk. Bold for a man who had asked to be where he was right now.

"Oh?" He asked, and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Eat my fucking cunt, Black. That's why we're doing this is so I can cum on your face, right?" You asked, and he nodded, his eyes glinting. God, he looked dangerous like this.

"Now you're getting it, love. Take what you need, it's hot when you boss me around." He said, and he was at it once again, making the entire world fall away with ease. It was only him and you, no one else existed, not right now.

"Fuck..." You cried, reaching up to tug at your own nipples, the sting only adding to the sensations. God, you were going to make him do this every fucking day. "Oh my god, so good..." You sighed, and he pulled your clit between his lips, running his tongue over it again and again, making you see stars. Talented, that was the only word you could think of for him.

"Oh my god, you're such a beautiful man..." You groaned, and you knew he liked it from the way that he sucked your clit harder, making you moan.

"Mmm." You jumped when he hummed around you, feeling goosebumps all over your body. God...

"Ha! Holy fuck..." You gasped, and he pulled away, looking concerned. Cute.

"You okay?" He asked, and you nodded, gulping down breaths. You were fine, he was just far too good at this.

"Just... Hum while you're sucking my clit again, it felt really good." You murmured, and he gave you another cocky grin, leaning forward to press a kiss to your sensitive clit, making you jump. Fuck, this man needed to finish the things he started.

"Everyone loves that once I've done it once, I knew you would too." He said before diving back in, making you let out a loud moan as you leaned your head back. The back of your mind wondered if your roommates would be home soon, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Sirius Black was eating your cunt, that was the only thing on your mind right now.

"I... Fuck, Sirius..." You whined "Keep going, don't stop moving your fucking tongue." He didn't need the warning, you knew that. He was content to spend his entire day between your thighs, existing only there. But you weren't going to last that long.

"Shit... Shit, how am I close already? Merlin, you're so good at this..." You moaned, and he sighed around you, slapping his hand down hard on your ass. God...

"Little more... just..." He moved his tongue faster, burying his face deeper between your thighs, and something in the increase in pace sent you right over the edge, your vision blurring as you trembled. Holy shit, this was the hardest you'd ever cum in your life and you were meant to stay practically upright? What was he on?

"Fuck... Fuck, I'm cumming! Oh my god!" You gasped, digging your nails into the wall in front of you as you shuddered, grinding your cunt against his face as he gripped onto your ass, burying his tongue deeper as he messily ate you out, not stopping even when you started to go limp. You whimpered, trying to shift off but he held you tight. "Wait, I can't-." He pulled back for a moment and you looked down, seeing a determined look on his face. His hair was wild, sticking up in every direction and his chin was gleaning from you... he looked utterly unleashed.

"You can. You can and you will. I want more, I'm not done yet." He said, and you nodded, chewing on your lip as you felt him pull your clit between his lips again, making you jump. You were already so sensitive, it wasn't going to take you long this time either... he had to know that.

"Shit..." You whined, feeling your mind unravel as he pulled his hand back to deliver a hard spank to your ass, making you cry out as your thighs shook around his face. He moved his hands, opting to scrape them hard down your thighs, leaving red lines in their wake.

"So... So good..." He knew what he was doing to your, and you felt him smirk against you, and something about that made you tremble. Sirius Black had asked you to do this. That was something that any woman would beg for, but you didn't have to. He'd come to you.

"Gonna cum... Sirius I'm gonna cum again!" You cried, feeling the hot knot in your stomach tighten before it released, making you tremble over the edge once again, feeling like your mind was slipping away from you. He didn't stop until you were entirely limp, falling off of his face beside him and curling into a ball. He wrapped his body around you, silently holding you until you stretched, turning to him.

"You look otherwordly when you're on my face, love." He said, and you shoved him lightly, giving him a look even as you blushed. He didn't have to say shit like that... he shouldn't say shit like that.

"Wipe your chin, that's fucking embarrassing." You murmured, and he rolled his eyes but nodded, reaching down on the ground to wipe his chin on his shirt before he laid back down beside you, pulling you against his body.

"Right." He kissed you deeply, and you whimpered at your taste on his lips. "You did so good." He murmured when you broke apart, and you groaned and covered your face, trying in vain to cover the grin that spread across it.

"Ugh... that was amazing." You sighed, looking at him through slatted fingers. He nodded, giving you a cocky grin.

"You're fucking right about that." He responded, and you looked over at him... He was so beautiful... and he was fucking you. You let your eyes trace down his body and you bit your lip at the way that his cock was straining in his loose pants.

"Jesus, Sirius..." You murmured, and he raised an eyebrow, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks. He knew what you were talking about, that look on his face more than confirmed it.

"What?" He asked, and you reached down, sliding your hand under his waistband and into his pants.

"You're so hard..." You wrapped your fingers around his thick cock, jerking your hand up and down it a few times, making him jump and clench his entire body. Fuck, you could have some fun with him like this. He'd probably do anything you asked him to. "So sensetive." You murmured, and he swallowed a moan and nodded, digging his nails into your wrist, giving you a pleading look. So cute...

"Yeah. That should not be surprising considering what we just did." He responded, and you chewed on your lip, thinking about taking him down your throat, letting him fuck your face like he had the first time... Fuck, that sounded so good.

"Do you want me to take care of it?" You asked, tying your hair back out of your face. He sat up and nodded eagerly before settling back, trying to look like he hadn't just responded like that.

"If you want to..." He said, and you nodded, getting up off of the bed and walking in the direction of the bathroom. You'd bought a new lingere set last week and you'd stored it in there in case the time presented itself where you could get a proper reaction out of him... he'd go fucking feral.

"Take your pants off and sit on the edge of the bed, I'll be back in a moment." You called over your shoulder, and almost immedietly you heard the rustling of clothing behind you, making you smirk. Charmer.

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headkiss · 5 months

Note

awe poor Eddie my love 🥺 I’ll request one!

what abt building a snowman or sledding w Eddie & reader & they get hot cocoa n snuggle up by a fire to get warm?

thank you my love!!! sweet boyfriend eddie building a snowman with you, i hope you like it <3 | 0.7k

“Eddie, wake up!”

There are many, many ways to be woken up, but Eddie’s favorite is the sound of your voice. It’s one of his favorite things in general, really, and he’s smiling before he even opens his eyes.

“Well,” he stretches, blinking his eyes open to find you beside him, kneeling on the bed, your hair still a little messy from sleep, but your eyes bright and wide awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“It snowed!” You shake his shoulders gently, “come see. Oh, and good morning.”

“Alright, alright. I’m up!”

Eddie pushes himself up and tosses the blankets off of him, grabbing a sweatshirt and tugging it over his head on his way out of the room with you leading him into the main space of the trailer.

“Look at it,” you tell him, pointing out the window with a smile that he reciprocates easily.

“Woah,” he says, looking out the window, the sunlight bouncing off of the fresh layer of snow that coats the trailer park. “It snowed, snowed.”

“Yeah,” you lean against him when he comes to stand beside you, an arm over your shoulders, yours around his middle. “‘Tis the season, right? Let’s get out there!”

“At least let me make you breakfast first.”

“If you insist.”

After making some chocolate chip pancakes (and possibly burning the first batch), Eddie follows you out of the trailer and into the snow, the chilly breeze hitting you as soon as you step outside.

You’ve got your winter jacket on, and Eddie grins at how you look in it, all warm and cute. You’ve also borrowed one of Eddie’s scarves and a pair of gloves that are too big for you, but keep you warm all the same.

He doesn’t look much different, curls poking out from the beanie on his head, winter coat zipped all the way up to his chin, and hands tucked into gloves.

Looking out at the trailer park, you see all of the different decorations, a string of lights wrapped around a railing or a little inflatable santa, a wreath hung on a door or fake reindeer propped up in the snow. It looks like Christmas, and with the fresh snow on the ground, it feels like it too.

“How about a snowman?” You face Eddie, his cheeks already a little pink from the cold.

“A classic,” he says. “Lead the way, sweetheart. I’ll follow your instructions.”

“Oh, good. I’m great at instructing.”

“Instruct away, babe.”

So you do, and soon enough—after a couple of tumbles in the snow, the knees of your jeans wet, snowflakes stuck in Eddie’s hair—you have a snowman. Well, the bare bones of one.

“He needs a face,” you say. “Do we have any rocks? Sticks?”

“I’ll find you some, boss. The best rocks ever.”

You shake your head with a smile, because Eddie is your favorite person, silly and kind, patient and so so sweet to you. It makes your chest hurt when you think about how wrong so much of Hawkins have got it when it comes to him.

He’s the best gift you’ll ever have.

By the time he comes back, you’ve sacrificed your (his) scarf for the snowman, having wrapped it around the spot where the top and middle snowballs meet. Eddie places the arms, one higher than the other, and you give your snowman a smile and eyes.

“Eddie, what about the carrot?”

“I never knew you were so serious about snowmen, babe.”

“He needs a nose!”

“You’re right,” Eddie nods. He may tease, but he never really makes you feel silly for anything. “How else will he smell anything?”

He heads inside the trailer, and comes back with a baby carrot in hand because it’s all he had in the fridge. After placing it on the snowman’s face and stepping back to look at him, Eddie’s arm around your shoulders, you think it’s the perfect nose.

By the time you’re back inside and have changed into jeans that aren’t wet from the snow, Eddie’s made you both mugs of hot chocolate, blankets ready and waiting for you on the couch.

It’s not long before you’re curled up there, cheek against Eddie’s chest, his arm holding you close, fingertips drawing patterns against your side.

Eddie doesn’t think he could ever dislike the cold if this is what it gets him: you beside him, exactly where you belong.

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babyhatesreality · 1 year

Note

I feel like Bucky would be insecure about his metal arm in the beginning bc he doesn’t want to hurt her in anyway.

But she is so full of love and adores him all the way he is.

Just imagine they are out and strangers give them not so nice looks bc Bucky is wearing a shirt today (and his arm is visual for everyone) But she hold his hand and loves all the way how shiny it’s get in the sun and would look at it whit pure love and happiness. 🥺

Excellent thoughts, darling! I have so many thoughts about this as well <3

At first, Bucky would only hold you in his right arm, let you hold his right hand, cuddle on his right side. You didn't notice at first, but once you did...

you would stubbornly switch to his other side, whether that meant jerking him to a stop and walking around and grabbing his vibranium hand, or literally crawling over him to snuggle on his left.

it took him a while to relax when you did this, because he wasn't going to stop you and deny you anything you wanted. But that didn't mean it still didn't scare him.

His arm had been a weapon for so long, he was still getting used to it being just another limb (albeit an enhanced one) and not a tool for killing, that it would shock him when you gravitated towards it. (he's also been working on this with Dr. Raynor)

it helped when he started realizing how fascinated you were with it. It was SHINY. And you loved shiny things.

he loved watching the way your face would light up when the sunlight bounced off the vibranium, or the way you would pinch your lips together in concentration when you watched the plates move, or your tiny giggle when you thought you were being sneaky and putting a fridge magnet on it where he couldn't see.

there was one time Steve was on a mission, and Bucky was putting you to bed in your room by himself. You insisted on being cuddled in his left arm as he read you your bedtime stories. He was halfway through the first one when he suddenly realized that you were gently drumming your fingernails on the metal. It was barely loud enough for human ears, but his super soldier hearing picked it up. The more you drummed, the more relaxed you got.

he began to notice that in moments when you felt particularly connected to him, you would absent-mindedly drum your nails on his arm. And he loved it.

And the most important moment for him was one day when the three of you were outside, walking down the street together, on a warm summer day. It was just too warm for him to wear anything but a teeshirt, and he was feeling awkward as hell as he caught stare after stare.

but you were firmly gripping his hand, swinging it without a care in the world, giggling and happy.

And the three of you stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. He looked down at you, and you were studying his arm intently. You suddenly jerked and twisted it, and your breath caught as the sunbeam bounced off the vibranium, throwing rainbows all over the three of you. He held his breath too, watching your joy.

"Daddy," you said in hushed wonder. "You make the best rainbows EVER."

The look of love, wonder, and adoration on your face still stays with him- and will forever.

#daddy!stucky #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky x little reader #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy bucky #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy!steve x little!reader

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bullet-prooflove · 17 days

Note

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it...

"Seasons Change"

Maybe about Lassiter? (because I love how you write him). 🥺🤍

Tagging: @elefrog25-blog @ineedbrainbleach @secretsquirrelinc @kmc1989

It’s spring and you’ve been Carlton’s partner for almost six months by now. The two of you have fallen into an easy rhythm, you work well together but it bothers him a little that he barely knows a damn thing about you.

“You are far too closed off.” He tells you in the midst of a stake out. “We’ve been partners for months and I don’t even know your first name. I’ve had to resort to calling you Bunny.”

“You’re one to talk.” You retort as you take a sip from your coffee cup. “Everything I know about you is surface level.”

He pauses then because he thinks that can’t be right but then he thinks back through all of his own liaisons since the separation, how he avoids the personal questions, immerses himself in his work. It’s the only thing he allows himself to talk about because anything else leaves him feeling too vulnerable, too raw. He’s never thought of himself as warm and cuddly but it isn’t until now that he realises he comes off as cold.

“Not cold.” You correct him with the shrug of your shoulders. “Just not forthcoming.”

“I can be forthcoming.” He snaps back at you because honesty he’s feeling a little wounded. He had no idea until this very moment how much he’d shut down, his defensive he’s become. “It’s you who has the problem.”

“OK then let’s play a game.” You say, setting your reuseable coffee cup down on the dashboard before turning your entire attention towards him. His breath catches in his throat because those eyes, they get him everytime. “You get real with me and I’ll get real with you.”

He loosens his tie then because it’s about to get all real up in here. He peppers you with questions and you volley them back like a tennis player in a semifinals match.

He discovers you like watching the sunset on the beach after a tough case because it reminds you that there’s beauty in the world. You left LA because your ex husband told you he didn’t love you anymore. You had just stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even have a towel wrapped around you when he told you that he was leaving you. You have an odd fascination with lighthouses, you don’t know why but you’ve always liked them, it’s one of the reasons you moved to Santa Barbara.

“You moved here because of a lighthouse?” He questions you, because if that isn’t the most impulsive thing he’s ever heard, he doesn’t know what is.

“The day after it happened, I just got in my car and decided to take a drive. There was too much stuff going on and I needed to think. I ended up here, parked outside the lighthouse and in that moment I just knew it was going to be ok.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a small smile. “My life was falling apart and I don’t know, just being there, it gave me a sense of peace amongst all the chaos.”

“I could have done with somewhere like that.” He says, shaking his head as he leans back into his seat. “Those first few months of the separation were rough, I didn’t think I’d make it…”

The words slip out before he means them to and he realises the enormously of what he’s just revealed. He never thought of himself as suicidal, not really but there were nights when he sat in that crappy apartment cleaning his gun wondering what it would feel like to pull the trigger, if it would drown out all the anguish he felt, the noise in his head.

Your hand comes to rest on his and he stares down at it surprised.

“There were times back in LA, that I thought about just walking into the sea. I would imagine the water coming up to my hips, my chest, my neck, the current just taking me…”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He says quietly, his fingers entwining with yours. “Seasons change, the winter doesn’t feel so bad once the spring sets in.”

If that isn’t a summary of the past six months of your life that you don’t know what is.

“Yea.” You say softly as your gaze meets his. “I can’t imagine what the summer will bring.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#carlton lassiter #carlton lassiter x reader #lassiter #lassiter x reader #lassie #lassie x reader #psych

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satancopilotsmytardis · 17 days

Note

⭐️✨🌟⭐️✨I want to hear about something you’ve been dying to talk about😊

🥺👉👈 I want to talk about chapter 2 of Prince's Consort, pls

I love this chapter so much, and I love this story so much. I have really been getting into the weeds of worldbuilding for this one as much if not more than when I started Changing Currents.

One of my favorite things to think about when designing a culture is what the fashion would look like and why people would be dressed like that, so in chapter two I really got to start showcasing that with their clothing and how it changes for festivals. In Ennonata, and specifically in Shigaraki's kingdom, fashion is modeled after armor and fighting, but it's not meant to be functional. In demonic society, the average person, and even the average warrior doesn't wear armor to protect themselves from being hurt because if they die, they will come back, so what's the point? And if non-fatal wounds can be healed in a matter of seconds with magic, why bother at all? It creates a sharp distinction between how demons consider the world and combat over mortals. I also had fun then showcasing that attitude in concert with the fact that the guards do wear real, functional armor, with the implication behind that being their conflicts could be more drawn out and they may not have access to healers during them, making it more important for them over everyone else, including their Prince, to be able to endure more.

And the fabric!!! Oh, I love the fabric so much. So in most hot environments, especially deserts, clothes are made to cover up the body to keep sun exposer lower, but the clothing is made with lighter materials and fibers that can wick away sweat and promote its evaporation to help keep people cool. But in Ennonata, because it is just ambiently warm from the temperature of the burning souls, there is no sun, and demons don't sweat nearly as much as mortals do, their clothing is designed to be decorative and flowy. It is open so that they can be cooler from any breeze, and it reflects a culture that has a very limited concept of modesty.

And the way that clothing and jewelry are used to denote occupation makes me fucking insane!!!! Pets get piercings on their genitals! Outside of just blatantly having them wearing cuffs or chains which could be mistaken as the marks of a slave, this makes it impossible for them to ever escape because they are as good as branded (slaves are the ones who actually get branded in this society), because anyone who ever sees them naked will know what they were supposed to be! The Prince barely bothers with jewelry, but all of the other higher up demons drape themselves in symbols of wealth and luxury to showcase how much power they have. This decadence from those kinds of demons is meant to parallel how "new money" people tend to go for flash while "old money" people go for more classic designs of an extremely high quality. But!! There's another layer of it for Shigaraki because he is on the "new money" side of this equation! He started off enslaved as a gladiator, and rose to the position of Prince! He should be, more than anyone, trying to showcase how powerful and wealthy he is now, but he doesn't!! What does that say about him as a character? I can't wait to get into it!!!

Uh, yeah, I have a lot of feelings about Prince's Consort, sorry for exploding about them

#ask #tanco speaks #asks #directors commentary ask

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

look down on me like that - 7 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 8.9k

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! alcohol mention, baby goth jungkookie 👀 some appreciation of jimin's ass 🍑 wonho is back !!! reader continues to be goin through it, jimin pulls no punches this chapter he rly said the library is open, could it be..... a.... softer yoongi???, i put some of yoongi's actual achievements as a producer in here (yes that's a warning), suckin' dick and fuckin' in the office yktfv (but make it Riskier™️), inadvisable methods of dealing with presentation anxiety, protected sex, a half-kiss that i fully expect to be screamed at about, some Sad Yoongi Backstory is unlocked (and yes it's real 🥲), and???? feelings??? maybe????????

A/N: ohhhhhh man we're back back again 🫡 i really did not think this chapter was gonna go that hard and then suddenly sdkjgdfljg i don't even know what happened. thank you so much for your patience bc i know it's been a minute 🥺 and i really really hope y'all enjoy and can't wait to hear what you think !!!! 💜 AND I CAN ALREADY TELL YOU Y'ALL AREN'T READY FOR CHAPTER 8...... (i'm not even ready 😩)

ALL MY LOVE TO @haliiimede FOR BETA READING ILY SORRY I FORGOT TO CREDIT YOU THROW ME AWAY

read on AO3!

chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight

~*~

“Jungkook?”

His nose scrunches up a little when he laughs. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“I-I… I just—” You stammer, trying to remember how to make words happen. It feels like your brain is on a five-second delay. “You, uh, look different. Your outfit.”

You’ve interacted with your baby-faced coworker literally hundreds of times at this point, and in that time you’ve become well-accustomed to seeing him in his standard corporate attire, slacks and button-downs, or occasionally changed out for boxing class, muscle tees and sweatpants.

But you have never seen him dressed like this. All black, head-to-toe. His t-shirt and over-shirt are both baggy while somehow still managing to hug tight around his biceps and the solid muscle of his chest. A silver chain dangles from one of the belt loops of his slouchy utility pants, which are in turn tucked into chunky combat boots that easily give him an extra two inches of height. A matching thick silver chain is clasped around his neck, glittering in the dim light of dusk outside your front door.

Jungkook frowns as he looks down at himself, like he doesn’t even recall what he’s wearing. “I always dress like this,” he remarks with a shrug. “Just, not at work.”

“I cannot believe you,” you say, somewhat breathless as your eyes trace down his body and back up.

“What?” He laughs again. “What did I do?”

“First you keep from me that you have dogs, and now I found out you’re goth, too? What else are you hiding, Jeon Jungkook?!”

“I’m not hiding anything! These things never came up!” He sounds so flustered that you can’t help but smile, and you see a clear expression of relief flash over his face as he seems to realize you’re not actually mad.

You shake your head, digging into your purse to retrieve your phone as you brush past him, letting the front door slam shut behind you. “That’s it. Baby Star Candy is dead. You are officially Baby Goth now. Changing your contact name and everything.”

When you turn to look at him over your shoulder, he’s still smiling, still standing dumbfounded on your doorstep.

“Come on, Baby Goth!” You can’t quite suppress the laughter in your voice. “I don’t want to be late!”

As the two of you slip into Jungkook’s car and he starts to pull out of your apartment complex, he glances over at you. ”So, what did you get up to today? I feel like I barely saw you.”

Your gut twists as it all comes rushing back— that mere hours ago Yoongi had you pressed against the door of his office, his hand up your dress, while he went through an entire business conversation with none-the-wiser Jungkook on the other side. And that once Jungkook had left, you’d turned around and practically begged Yoongi to fuck you where you stood, right up against his fucking door. And he had.

Your chest constricts a little at the thought. Sex, in the office, in the middle of the workday. Like an idiot.

You wish you could say you regret it.

Heat rushes to your face, and you fumble for an answer to Jungkook’s question. “I just, uh— today… was a lot.” You hope your smile is more convincing than it feels, and you hope you’re just imagining the way Jungkook’s eyes linger on you for an extra second before his gaze flits back to the road.

“Well,” he thumbs at the volume control on the steering wheel, turning up the radio a couple notches. “Now we get to have fun. Work hard, play hard, right?”

Your nerves start to recede again as you fall into the comfortable routine of time spent with Jungkook. It’s funny to you now that you thought it might be any different to interact with him outside of work.

Apart from the mildly distracting fit of his shirt, Jungkook is exactly the same— wide eyes sparkling in the headlights of passing cars as he babbles on about TikTok, then interrupts himself to sing along to the radio. He only pauses for breath when you interject with directions to the venue, until he’s finally pulling into a parking space and turning the key to kill the engine.

Jungkook gazes up in awe as you have your tickets scanned and lead him into the venue entrance, clearly trying to take it all in. This is one of your favorite places to see Jimin perform, and it’s still overwhelmingly impressive, even though you’ve seen it dozens of times now.

“Wow, this place is really nice. Your friend must be a pretty big deal.”

“Jimin is a huge deal,” you say with a nod and a shrug, used to it. “You’ll understand why when you see him dance… And also when you see his ass.” You giggle a little, unable to help yourself.

Jungkook laughs too, eyebrows lifting off his forehead like he wasn’t expecting that response.

You wave him down a hallway towards the center of the venue. “Come on, Baby Goth, we’re in VIP.”

His brows lift impossibly higher. “What does that mean?”

You shoot him a wink. “It means we drink for free.”

You know the route by heart as you emerge from the hallway and lead Jungkook towards the front, where you flash your tickets again to be let into a section close to the stage.

Jungkook eagerly volunteers to get the first round, and you’re thankful he isn’t gone long. Alone with your thoughts is the last thing you want to be right now— at least not while sober. When he hands you your drink, you lean in to tap the plastic edge of your cup against his in a cheers.

“To working hard and playing hard,” you smirk as you repeat his line back to him, then pause. “Just— please do not share anything I say tonight with anyone at work.”

“I swear,” Jungkook nods, and you can’t help but smile when he holds out the pinky of his free hand. You link yours with his to seal the deal. “I’m good at keeping secrets,” he says earnestly.

“Right, like you kept the secret of Yoongi’s lock code?”

His face immediately reddens. “That was different.” He covers the awkward pause— or maybe you’re just imagining it— when he takes a sip of his drink, then continues. “Did you ever end up using it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you exhale in relief when at that moment, the lights start to dim, and the now filled-in crowd begins to cheer in anticipation. You wave a hand at Jungkook as if to indicate you’ll tell him later, and you pray he won’t remember to bring it up again.

As the dancers take the stage, you lean over to point Jimin out to Jungkook, though you know as soon as he starts moving you won’t have to. Everyone is talented, but there’s something about the way your best friend dances that makes it impossible to watch anyone else. He can nail any style, can convey so much story and emotion through his movements, can execute choreography flawlessly while still doing it in his own unique way.

After the first few songs, you’re both on your feet, and when Jungkook leans toward you to be heard over the music, you’re certain he’s about to gush over how good Jimin is, the way everyone does the first time they see him perform.

“You weren’t kidding about his ass!” He half-shouts instead, and you nearly drop your drink. Jungkook stares openly at Jimin as he moves across the stage, both powerful and graceful. His head tilts slightly to one side. “I mean. Wow.”

The alcohol makes you laugh easily and loud. You have to take a moment to catch your breath before you can respond. “Okay, Jungkook!”

“What?” Jungkook is laughing now, too. “I can appreciate a nice ass, regardless of who it’s attached to!” There’s a pause as you both giggle and catch your breath. “But uh— please don’t share that at work.”

You extend your pinky first this time. “Promise.”

Jungkook smiles as he locks his finger with yours, then drops your hand. The song has ended, so he doesn’t have to talk quite so loud as he continues. “He really is talented, too.”

You nod. “Jimin was a trainee for a few years, but I think he’s a lot happier just dancing like this. It was a lot of pressure.”

Soft synths of the intro to the next song have already started to build, and when the beat kicks in, Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he looks up with a grin. “Oh shit! I fucking love this song!”

You giggle. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

He glances at you over the rim of his cup, his smile growing cocky. “Well, you’ve never gotten drunk with me before. The things you miss when you leave happy hour early.”

Your heart sinks a little at the memory, and you’re grateful Jungkook is already lost in his own world, bopping along to the upbeat song, so he doesn’t seem to notice the way your face falls. It’s like Yoongi has left fingerprints all over your life, and no matter what you do, you can’t get rid of them.

You take a long pull of your drink until you hit the bottom.

Jungkook is a welcome distraction to it all. By the final chorus of the song that you now recognize as an EXO cover, he’s fully gotten into it, unable to stand still and launching into some on-the-spot choreography. When he executes a dangerously well-performed body roll, your jaw drops.

“I think you missed your calling,” you shout over the music. “You should’ve been an idol!”

“Yeah?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, hips still moving fluidly. “Think I’d be as good as Kai?”

You nod. “Oh yeah. I can see it now.” You gesture as if reading off a magazine headline. “Heartthrob Jeon Jungkook. But they’d call you Baby Star Candy, of course.”

Jungkook smiles at you, striking a final deliberate pose for the last note of the song. “I thought I was Baby Goth now?”

You smirk as you correct him. “Only I’m allowed to call you that. Your army of fangirls will have to get in line.”

It’s like the lack of music backing him up makes him go shy, and you watch the way Jungkook’s cheeks flush, the way his nose scrunches when he laughs and waves the idea away. “I’m good. Think I’ll stick to TikTok.”

You giggle through another two drinks before the show is over, and as the dancers leave with a final wave, you cheer extra loud for Jimin until he glances your way and sticks his tongue out at you. When the house lights come up, you nod for Jungkook to follow you, making your way past more security to the back of the venue to meet Jimin at the stage door.

You can’t help but laugh a little in surprise when you round the corner to see a familiar face amidst the small group already waiting. Wonho is leaning up against the wall, looking hilariously small and nervous for how large his frame is, and clutching a bouquet of roses as red as his hair.

Biting your lip, you wave at him, and he waves back, but neither of you move to say anything else.

You can’t quite shake the embarrassment that comes with being reminded of the night you first met Wonho. Just another set of stupid Yoongi fingerprints.

Jimin emerges from the stage door a few minutes later, unceremoniously dropping the dance bag slung over his arm when his eyes land on Wonho waiting for him.

“Aw, baby!” Jimin pouts in disbelief as he accepts the roses, only to then immediately be swept up into a bridal carry. He squeaks when Wonho effortlessly lifts him off the ground.

You roll your eyes despite the smile that creeps across your face. “You two are ridiculous.”

Jimin shoots you a sour look. “Can you let me have a whirlwind romance for once in my damn life, please?” He takes Wonho’s face in both hands to kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Jungkook is clearly still processing all of this, radiating ‘confused but happy to be here’ energy as he scoops Jimin’s abandoned dance bag off the floor to carry it over his shoulder.

Jimin sideeyes Jungkook as he pulls away. “And who is this man touching my stuff?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he glances at the bag like maybe he should put it back down.

You reach up to smack Jimin on the arm. “Shut up. This is my friend and coworker, Jungkook. Be nice to him.”

“I’m not going to be nice to anyone until I get some fucking food,” Jimin snaps. His toes point as he kicks his feet daintily in Wonho’s arms, a dancer through and through. “Can we go eat now?”

Your first stop is a restaurant near the venue where you order a metric ton of brisket at Jimin’s demand. While Wonho and Jungkook easily destroy most of it between the two of them, your best friend still seems to have enough to improve his mood. It probably helps that Wonho hand-feeds the majority of it to him.

When he’s not gazing adoringly at his boyfriend, Jimin is attempting to communicate with you using solely his eyes, which keep darting over to Jungkook, his brows lifting in a silent question.

You tighten your jaw and do your best to subliminally shake your head without attracting Jungkook’s attention. Thankfully Jungkook doesn’t seem to remember that there’s anything else in the world except his plate of food.

Jimin narrows his gaze at you, his universal signal for “we’ll discuss this later”, and dread floods in the pit of your stomach.

Sure enough, when you finish your meal and move to a table at the bar down the street, Jimin sweetly suggests that Wonho and Jungkook go together to grab the first round of drinks, giving no indication that he has any sort of ulterior motive. They shrug and nod, Jungkook immediately starting to quiz Wonho on his protein intake as they depart.

Jimin pounces as soon as you’re alone again. “I’m sorry, you’re having a sordid office sex affair with a coworker and you’re telling me it’s not this man?!”

You roll your eyes. “No, Jimin.”

Jimin sucks his teeth, clearly unimpressed. “I thought I raised you better than this. I’m about to make him my hot goth girlfriend if you don’t.”

“You literally have a boyfriend.”

His brows pinch together, like he’s confused why that matters. “Wonho would love a third. He can barely keep up with me. But don’t change the subject.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table as he stares you down. “Babygirl, why on earth are you wasting your time fucking a man you don’t like, when you clearly have some very nice alternatives available to you?”

“I’m not doing that anymore,” you scowl. “The correct number of coworkers I should be fucking is zero.” It feels like Jimin’s gaze is drilling right to the depths of your soul, and you press your face into your hands as alcohol loosens your lips and the guilt overflows. “…Even though the actual number of coworkers I fucked today is one.”

“Bitch!” Jimin’s hand smacks loud against the wood grain, enough to make you flinch a little. “You have got to be fucking joking!”

You shake your head silently into your palms.

“At the office?!”

You nod pathetically for a few moments before dropping your arms down on the table with a whine, your forehead quickly following. “I don’t even know what happened. It’s like when I’m around him my brain malfunctions.”

Jimin goes uncharacteristically silent, and when you dare to peek up at him, his lips are pursed slightly as if in thought. “Are you sure you hate him?”

The question makes you sit back up. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I don’t know, it’s just... if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that kinda sounds like a crush.”

You instantly make a face of disgust. “What?! No. Absolutely not. I know I hate him. He’s a nightmare. He’s cocky and insufferable—”

“So am I,” Jimin interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you love me.”

You open your mouth to argue back, but he lifts a single finger to quiet you.

“I’m not done.” He pauses, and there’s an immediate sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. “What I see right now—” Jimin gestures in the direction of the bar “—is a fit, handsome, and seemingly very nice man who has spent the whole night looking at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. And yet here you are, still talking about Suga, like you’ve been doing nonstop for the last month, who apparently has such a hold on you that he can make your panties drop during business hours. Yet I’m supposed to believe you hate him? This math is not mathing, love.”

It’s only when he stops talking that you realize your pulse is racing.

“Jimin,” you breathe. You double-blink, hot all over with a rush of sudden shame, trying to will away the sting at the corners of your eyes. “That’s not fair.”

Jimin’s gaze stays locked on yours as he refuses to back down even an inch. “Answer me this: would you be reacting this way if you really did hate him?”

Your jaw drops in disbelief, but you only get a beat of silence to attempt to process your best friend’s comments before Jungkook is thudding a glass of beer on the table in front of you.

“Sorry that took a second! It’s busy tonight,” Jungkook says brightly as Wonho moves around to the remaining open seat. “What were you guys talking about?”

Jimin fixes Jungkook in a blank stare. “Menstruation,” he replies flatly, not missing a beat.

You cling to your drink for dear life as the conversation continues on around you, and you do your best to smile and nod while you try not to replay Jimin’s words back a million times in your mind. But it’s a losing battle.

As your head spins, you run through the list of things you know to be true. Min Yoongi is your coworker. Min Yoongi is unquestionably an asshole. Min Yoongi has, since your very first day, embarrassed you, belittled you, lied to you, even threatened your job. Min Yoongi has never shown an ounce of evidence that he cares for you in any way. Your eyes flit aimlessly around the room as you try to think. Min Yoongi is—

Your heart drops into your gut. Min Yoongi is sitting at the end of the bar.

It’s not real.

This can’t be real, you tell yourself. It’s just the long, strange day and several drinks you’ve had working together to play tricks on your brain.

You blink hard, willing Yoongi’s face to morph back into that of some stranger, but when you open your eyes again, he’s just as real, exactly the same as before.

Except for the fact that he’s now staring at you.

Yoongi’s mouth goes slack, like he’s coming to the same realization as you— that the two of you have managed to find yourselves in the same place at the same time, completely by chance.

You stand up so fast you nearly knock your drink over. All three heads at the table swivel to look at you, and Jungkook speaks first.

“You okay?”

“Uh, y-yeah, yes,” you stammer unconvincingly. “Just gonna grab another beer.” Your eyes glance back up to search for Yoongi again, but they don’t immediately catch sight of him, and you don’t dare look for too long.

“You still have half of this one left,” Jimin remarks dryly.

Your gaze returns to your drink and you choose the first option that occurs to you: you down the rest in one swig and slam the empty glass on the table. All three pairs of eyes on you go wide.

“I’ll get another one for everyone, be right back!” You grit your teeth in something that you hope approximates a smile, then start to head for the bar, your heart already racing with anticipation.

After a few steps, a hand on the small of your back startles you, enough to make you freeze in place.

When you look over your shoulder, you see it’s Jungkook, also on his feet and right behind you. “Do you want help with the drinks?” He leans into your ear to ask the question, probably to be heard over the din of the bar. Your head is spinning from the rush of alcohol and from getting to your feet so fast. You don’t remember Jungkook smelling this good, or his voice being this low.

You turn to face him to answer and wow, now he’s really close. You sway slightly, a little unsteady on your feet, as your eyes meet his and your face flushes. “Oh, uh— no, I’m okay. But thanks, JK.”

There’s an extra second where neither of you say anything, Jungkook’s hand still pressed to your back, warm against the thin fabric of your dress. Then he nods and turns to head back to the table.

Your brain can hardly hold space for anything else as you spin towards the bar again, trying to catch sight of Yoongi through the crowd of people that only seems to have grown in the last few minutes. You weave through the mass of bodies with a combination of mildly polite apologies and stubborn determination, until you make it all the way up to the bar—

—where there is absolutely no sign of Yoongi. Gone without a trace, the barstool where you swear you just saw him now left empty.

You squeeze your eyes shut and exhale, willing your pulse to return to a normal pace. Maybe it was just your imagination, a trick of the light, a side-effect of an alcohol-dizzy brain and all this overthinking. Maybe you didn’t actually see what you thought you saw. Maybe…

It’s only when your eyes flutter open that you notice it. A nearly full glass of whiskey sitting abandoned on the bar, directly in front of the empty stool.

Before you can even think about why you’re doing it, you’re moving again, now fully shoving your way through the crowd of people until your palms find the glass of the front door and push hard. You stumble out of the bar, the cold night air like a slap to the face as you belatedly realize you left your jacket slung over the back of your chair.

Wrapping your arms around yourself with a shiver, you step out properly onto the sidewalk. Groups of passersby part down the middle to walk around you, and if they shoot you dirty looks, you miss them entirely. Your head whips one way, then the other, looking for— you’re not even sure what. A flash of familiarity, maybe, a glimpse of something, anything. If only just for reassurance that you didn’t make it all up.

Someone calls your name.

You spin around, your pulse thudding in your ears, only to belatedly realize it’s coming from the entrance of the bar, where Jungkook is standing, holding the door half-open as he leans through.

“What are you doing?” He steps out, letting the door fall shut behind him as he crosses to you. You don’t know why something in your gut twists, why you’re suddenly hit with the urge to scream at him. Didn’t you tell him not to follow you?

Jungkook continues when you don’t respond, his brow pinched with concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you out here?”

The question feels impossible to answer. You can’t think straight enough to make sense of any of it— why you went after Yoongi, what you planned to do when you caught up to him, why it even matters to you at all that he was here tonight.

Jimin’s words echo in your skull, deafening.

“I—” you stammer, giving the only answer you can. “I don’t know.”

A gust of cold air makes you shudder hard, and Jungkook’s hands have suddenly closed over yours on your upper arms, dry heat against your icy skin.

“It’s freezing out here,” he murmurs, clearly still confused. He shifts to wrap an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and you don’t fight it.

Emotional exhaustion takes over, and as you allow Jungkook to lead you back inside, you do your best not to think about anything at all.

~*~

The weekend blinks by far too quickly, and the dread of Monday morning looms over you, all the little moments from Friday stacked like a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach.

You don’t hear from Jimin after Jungkook drops you off that night, and you’re too stubborn to text first, secretly hoping he’ll make the first move and apologize for reading you for filth unprovoked. But considering how busy he’s been with rehearsals leading up to the show, you doubt he and Wonho leave his bedroom all weekend.

Which means that when Monday morning comes, you have to face it alone.

Thankfully, you have no shortage of work to distract yourself with, so you try to keep your head down and focus, flitting between meetings, calls, spreadsheets, emails, paperwork, slide decks. You make polite conversation with Jungkook as always, but you keep it brief. When you take lunch at your desk, you tell yourself it’s just because you’re busy. That’s all.

You work and you work and you desperately try not to think about anything else. Your coworkers slowly start to trickle out as the day wraps up, but you barely pay them any mind, only half-heartedly returning the farewells called over their shoulders as they push through the glass doors.

When you finally sit back, it’s only because your vision is burning from endless screen time. You’re not even sure you’ve remembered to blink. You press your face into your hands to give your weary eyes a break, before glancing at the clock, eyes widening at the realization that it’s already past seven.

A wave of anxiety floods your veins as it occurs to you that you haven’t seen Yoongi leave yet— you would’ve noticed. You set your jaw as you reach for your phone.

Are you still here?

The response is nearly immediate.

Presentation room.

Better than his damn office, you think to yourself, and then two more texts pop up.

Need more time.

A lot more.

Fucking hell.

You shove your chair back and get to your feet, acting on impulse more than anything else. As you storm down the hallway, you will yourself not to be reminded of shoving through the crowded bar and stumbling into the street Friday night. You were just drunk, and surprised. This is different. It has to be.

You bang open the door to the presentation room with enough force to surprise even yourself.

“Now, Yoongi,” you snap.

He’s seated in the chair behind the podium at the front of the room, slouched over his laptop, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Despite your dramatic entrance, he doesn’t so much as glance up.

“Just give me like, ten minutes.” He winces at the screen of his computer. “Maybe twenty.”

You cross your arms in frustration. “Some of us are tired, Yoongi.”

At this, his head snaps up. “Well, some of us got tapped to give a fucking presentation to the visiting overseas team. Tomorrow!”

You take a step back, your eyes widening at his tone. You haven’t heard him genuinely raise his voice like this— not since the argument during your very first team meeting.

“Not like I don’t have shit that I’m supposed to be working on,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, eyes returning to squint at his laptop. You notice now that it’s connected to the screen at the front of the room, and you can see him scrolling through the slides of a presentation, pausing occasionally to add in speaking notes.

You blink, trying to keep up. “Why did they tap you?”

“A great question,” he huffs. “Apparently they’re curious about who the producer with the Grammy nomination is. I’m being asked to do a ‘high-level timeline of my career and accomplishments’. Guess these assholes haven’t heard of Wikipedia.”

“That’s… stupid.”

Yoongi looks up again, his mouth dropping open slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that response. He finally manages to speak as his gaze jumps back down to his slides. “Thank you. That’s what I said. I tried to get out of it, but it appears I am being forced.”

“I didn’t think you could be forced to do anything.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mumbles under his breath, paired with a dry laugh. “I’ve been forced into dealing with your ass, haven’t I?” His eyes don’t move from the screen.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it, and you step further into the space. The room is set up with three large, unnecessarily fancy tables, reclaimed wood, arranged in a U shape facing the podium and screen at the front of the room.

Taking your time, you cross behind the tables and head for the seat furthest away from the podium, dead center. When you get there, rather than pull the chair out, you spin around to sit your ass on the wooden surface, turning in a half-circle so that your legs dangle off the edge, palms flat on either side of you.

You stare Yoongi down from across the room as he continues to fiddle with his laptop. “Let’s hear it, then.” When his eyes find yours, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. “It’s good to practice with an audience. You should be thanking me.”

For a moment, you think he might try to argue with you, but to your surprise, he gets to his feet with a resigned sigh. He presses a button on his laptop, and the presentation goes full-screen, flipping back to the first slide.

His mouth tightens as his fingertips grip the wooden edge of the podium.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi. I’m also known by my producer pseudonym, Suga.” His deep voice is monotone, edged rough like gravel, like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing less.

You fold your arms again, surveying Yoongi carefully as he continues. Your eyes widen in surprise when only a few sentences in, he outright trips over his words, stuttering an impressive amount before he manages to get back on track. His gaze remains at a fixed point on the floor, unmoving, and he speaks like his presentation is one endless sentence, without so much as a pause.

“Stop,” you call from your spot opposite him. The command comes out louder than you expect.

Yoongi’s head snaps up again, but to his credit, he stops talking.

“Start over,” you say simply. “Remember to breathe this time.”

Yoongi blinks once, twice, then silently taps through his slides to the beginning. You hear him take a tentative inhale before he starts. “Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi.”

He takes it slower this time, getting past where you stopped him before, until a moment where he falls silent. You see his face twist slightly as color blooms in the apples of his cheeks. “Uh, shit. I forgot what my next thing was. Fuck, hang on.” He fumbles with the trackpad of his laptop, and you huff a laugh of disbelief.

“Oh my god.” You can’t quite manage to bite back your smile. “You do have a weakness.”

“I just hate presentations,” Yoongi sighs, his mouth pulling up into a flat line. “The whole point of being a producer is that I can stay in my studio and not have to deal with people.”

Your fingers tap against the edge of the table, intrigued. You’ve never seen him like this before. “You just need to fucking relax, Yoongi.”

“You say that like that’s something I know how to do,” he mutters, so low you wonder if you were supposed to hear it.

You’re on your feet and crossing the room before you can second-guess the thought. Yoongi glances up with a face that reads mild confusion, and the expression only deepens when you place both hands on his chest and firmly shove him. As he’s clearly not expecting it, it’s enough of a push to knock him off-balance, and he has to take a few steps back to steady himself.

“What are y—” The question dies in Yoongi’s throat as you sink to your knees in front of him. He’s moved just slightly out of reach, and you gaze up at him through your lashes and beckon him towards you with a single finger.

He steps forward as if drawn in, like a moth to a flame.

If there’s a part of you that tells you to pause and think about this before you do it, you can’t hear it over the deafening silence in the room. And the last thing you want to do right now is think.

Close enough to touch now, you flatten your palms to slide up the smooth fabric of Yoongi’s joggers, teasing your fingers over the waistband when you get there. You glance at him again, half expecting him to tell you to stop, but his only response is the jerk of his adam's apple in a hard swallow.

A thrill runs through you at the idea of doing this here, perfectly hidden behind the podium.

“Start from the beginning again,” you instruct, your voice low and even. “If you can do it like this, you can do it tomorrow.”

A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw jumps, and he nods almost imperceptibly. You don’t move an inch until he inhales and starts over. His voice isn’t quite as steady this time. “Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, you hook your fingers under both his joggers and boxers at once and firmly push them down. His dick has only barely started to harden, which makes sense, given his nerves and your wholly unexpected ambush.

The thought of feeling his cock grow in your mouth, get heavy on your tongue, makes arousal start to pool in your gut.

He’s still talking, hasn’t even stumbled once yet, so you reward him with a finger curled under the head of his dick, lifting it up to be flush with his stomach. You take your time as you drag your tongue up his exposed shaft, laid flat against the prominent veins there. When you reach the tip, you shift to grip him at the base so you can kitten lick at his frenulum, purposefully teasing.

Yoongi just barely manages to disguise his groan as a cough, and you pull back, smirking a little. “What was that?”

He exhales, clearly trying to regain focus as he continues where he left off. “I have over 100 KOMCA credits as a songwriter and producer.” You hum approvingly and take him into your mouth.

As you hollow your cheeks and begin to suck, you can feel the way he swells to stretch you, pulsing warm, and it only encourages you. Your hands move to grip at his thighs, and when you take him deeper, head bobbing steadily, you taste the salt of his precum as he starts to drip.

You let your tongue loll out past your bottom lip to lap further down his shaft, and this time there’s no questioning the sound he makes: a distinct, breathy whimper. It’s enough to coax a wicked smile out of you, and you have to pull off his cock briefly to keep from gagging. You pause to admire the way it shines, glossed wet with your drool.

Your lips chase after him almost immediately, sucking just the tip in, and you swirl your tongue over it in lazy, sloppy circles.

Yoongi is clearly struggling to keep his composure now. “I was the first— oh, fuck.” He cuts himself off with a proper moan when you take him down as far as you can without warning. He hits the back of your throat and you keep him there, forcing yourself to swallow, your throat spasming around his length as you choke on it.

He tries again. “The f-first artist to win MAMA's 'Best Collaboration' award— m-multiple times.”

You finally pull off to gasp for air, a few strings of spit still connecting his now leaking-hard cock to your lips. Yoongi makes another soft noise at the loss, and you gaze up at him as you pant, reveling in the look of near-distress on his face.

“Finish the presentation,” you purr, your voice slightly hoarse from having just shoved his cock down your throat.

Yoongi’s eyes squeeze shut as he continues, and you lean forward, taking him into your mouth again tongue-first. You waste no time sucking him back into the tight clutch of your throat, and your fingertips dig bruises into the skin of his thighs to keep him from bucking his hips up.

You refuse to relinquish control. Not yet.

His hands cup the back of your head like he’s clinging on for dear life as he keeps trying to get the words out. “T-the collaboration netted me my first fuck—ing Grammy nomination. I— nnh— look forward to attending the ceremony in person next week, and I— I-I feel confident about our chances for success. Shit.”

With this, you realize that he’s made it all the way through his talking points, and you pull off his dick with a wet pop.

“There,” you smirk, pausing to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before getting to your feet again. The steady pulse between your legs is hard to ignore. “Was that so hard?”

“God dammit,” Yoongi’s voice is heady and dark as he steps in to close the distance between you. “I need to fuck you.”

You quirk an eyebrow, a little surprised by the bold statement. “Need?”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes that makes your cunt clench. “Get on the fucking table.”

Even as you follow his order, you can’t shake the feeling of still being in control, nor the smug satisfaction earned from making this man come undone so very easily. You hike your dress up slightly before perching on the table closest to the front of the room, your teeth raking over your bottom lip in anticipation.

Yoongi’s already standing in front of you, and his hands slide under your hips to firmly drag your ass to the edge of the table. In two swift movements he shoves your dress further up your thighs, then hooks his fingers under the lace of your panties and pulls them down, tugging them off one ankle entirely and leaving them to dangle from the other.

It’s only when your legs drop open that his hurried pace slows. He pauses, with a soft hum.

You inhale sharply when he lifts a hand up to brush over you. His fingers press against your folds in a V shape, teasingly pulling your pussy lips apart. Just the small motion is already enough to earn him a slick noise.

“Or,” he murmurs, “maybe I should repay the favor?”

Your chest constricts at the thought when you realize what he means. Going down on you, here, in a conference room, where anyone could technically walk in and see. It’s after hours, but you didn’t lock the front door— it’s not unheard of for someone to forget something at the office and double-back for it. It feels too luxurious, too dangerous. In more ways than one.

“We don’t have time, Yoongi.” Your hands fist in his shirt to pull him closer, and he steps in between your spread legs. “Just fuck me.”

The look on his face makes you wonder if you’re missing out. “Suit yourself.”

He fumbles into the pocket of his still pushed-down joggers to retrieve his wallet and fish out the condom tucked inside. A shiver runs up your spine as he tears it open and rolls it over his length.

Yoongi glances up at you when it’s all the way on, one hand pressing into the table behind you for leverage as he uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. It’s only now that you realize how very close to you he is. You’ve never done this face-to-face before.

With no prep, the stretch of him is nearly overwhelming when he pushes in, and you gasp. Yoongi stops when you do, only the very tip of him nudged inside of you.

“Hurts?”

“Not in the bad way,” you murmur, and he pushes in a little further, slow enough that you can feel every inch of him working your pussy open. Your fingers grip the edge of the table and dig in hard as you whimper at the sensation.

“That’s it, fuck.” Yoongi gives a grunt of effort as you take the last of him, until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your cunt clenched tight around him, your walls already fluttering softly from the pressure. You’re both breathing heavy as his hips momentarily still.

It takes you by surprise when his hand shifts to grab your jaw, tilting your gaze up to meet his. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he surveys you for a moment.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

You swallow hard. “Fuck me.”

With the hint of a smirk, he starts to move. He rolls his hips to drag his cock nearly all the way out, then fucks it in again in one heavy stroke, angled perfectly to hit your g-spot. Your eyes roll back in your head.

“God, Yoongi,” you whine when he does it again, and again. “We— nnh, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

The hand on your jaw grips tighter. “Not even a lock on the door. Anyone could walk in and see.” Your cunt throbs at the low growl of his voice. “Do you want to stop?”

“N-no,” you groan as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, enough to make you dizzy. His hand slides down to splay broad over the column of your throat. “Please don’t fucking stop.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, dark and raw, his grip tightening slightly. “Want it that bad?”

Your legs hook around his hips to urge him deeper, harder. “Need it.” Your voice is hardly more than a whisper from the pressure of his hand. You blink up at him, your eyes searching his— for what, you’re not sure.

“Need,” Yoongi breathes a laugh, more air than sound. “Makes two of us.”

Desperate for an anchor, you reach up and wrap your arms over his shoulders to pull him into you. Your mind is reeling with the adrenaline rush of doing something so reckless, and you press your bodies together until your noses bump with every stroke of his cock fucking into you. His parted lips are so close to yours now, you swear you can feel electricity sparking in the barely-there space between.

You feel like a live wire, like every sensation is amplified a thousandfold. Yoongi releases his grip on your throat to slip the same hand between his hips and yours, and his fingers circling your clit are enough to send you over the edge, fast.

“Yoongi,” you gasp into his mouth, your hands clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure builds until it’s too much, and your thighs start to shake. “Just like that, oh fuck, Yoongi, I-I’m gonna—”

“Come.” His lips brush against yours when he says it, a touch so light it could’ve been an accident.

You throw your head back with a strangled sob as your orgasm rips through you, and he leans into you, forehead dropping down against your collarbone, clearly close behind.

“God,” Yoongi groans hoarsely as his hips start to rut even faster. You’re so lost in pleasure, you can barely process that he’s speaking. “What are you doing to me?”

It only takes a few more thrusts and then he’s coming too, your cunt still spasming around him, both of his palms pressing flat to the table behind you as his voice breaks on a wordless rough-edged gasp.

You stay pressed into one another as you come down from the high together, all flushed skin and shaky breaths. Yoongi shifts first, lifting his head off your shoulder, and you take the cue to unwrap your arms from around his neck. It’s a slow, strained untangling, his spent cock starting to soften inside of you.

“Alright,” Yoongi still sounds breathless as he pulls out, and when he steps away, you reach down to tug your underwear back up over your hips.

Your saving grace is a box of tissues at the podium, and Yoongi makes short work of peeling the condom off, wrapping it in as many layers of tissues as he can before tucking it into the conference room trash can with a grimace. He uses a few more to clean himself up, then exhales a stream of air as he pulls his boxers and joggers back up.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

When you make it back to your desk, you pack your things up in a mindless haze. It’s only a minute or so after you finish that Yoongi emerges from his lab, and you follow after him out the glass front doors, neither of you speaking as you lock them from the outside.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is equally silent, until you step out and see gray-black stormy skies and a steady downpour of rain through the glass walls of the atrium.

“Shit,” you groan.

“Allergic to water?” Yoongi’s smug voice over your shoulder immediately makes your jaw clench.

“Shut up,” you snap. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, and the bus stop is a few blocks from my apartment. I’m gonna fucking drown.” Not that you care, you tack on silently.

“You take the bus?”

At this, you whip around to glare at him. “We’re not all millionaire music producers, you know.”

He shrugs, like you’re not wrong. “I can give you a ride. My car’s in the garage.”

Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your forehead, but Yoongi is already crossing to the elevator bank on the other side of the lobby. He presses the button, then looks back at you nonchalantly, like he’s just offered the most normal thing in the world.

Which, maybe it would be, under different circumstances. But there is absolutely nothing normal about your relationship with Min Yoongi.

As if to make the decision for you, a clap of thunder rumbles outside, so loud it feels like the building rattles. You swallow the last bit of dignity you have as you follow Yoongi into the garage elevator. Once the doors close, you can’t help but shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye, but his gaze is fixed on the indicator, watching the numbers tick down as you descend.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you mean it to, and Yoongi turns his head to look at you, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“What does that mean?”

“Driving me home? We don’t do this.” You cross your arms over your chest, indignant. “As soon as the sex is done, you don’t want anything to do with me.”

You’re surprised when he laughs a little. “That’s funny.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s funny?”

He stares at you pointedly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek for a moment before he continues. “You say that, but if memory serves, you’re the one who keeps running away after.”

You open your mouth to respond, then close it, unsure of what to say. He’s not exactly wrong. Finally it comes back to you. “That’s not true. I saw you, on Friday, and I know you saw me. You left so fast you didn’t even finish your drink.”

Yoongi’s face scrunches up in a slight wince, like he’d rather not recall the moment.

“Yeah, well. That was different. I was trying to respect your privacy. Let you go on your date in peace.” He smirks slightly. “Though I guess it can’t have gone that well.”

You roll your eyes, your patience really starting to thin. “Jungkook and I are just friends, Yoongi.”

“Okay,” he says flatly. “In any case, I certainly didn’t plan to show up and ruin your night or anything. Just an unfortunate cosmic coincidence.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth for a second. “We seem to have a lot of those.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighs. “We do.”

The elevator doors slide open, and you lapse into silence again as you follow Yoongi to his car and slip into the passenger seat. After you give him your address and he plugs it into the GPS, there’s no sound at all other than the fall of rain and the swipe of his windshield wipers once you pull out of the garage.

You worry at your bottom lip until the words bubble up. “You don’t listen to music?”

Yoongi’s eyes flit from the road over to you for just a second, like he wasn’t expecting the question. “Uh, I�� no, not really. I do that all day. I don’t mind the silence.” You take that as your cue to fall quiet. To your surprise, he keeps talking.

“You know, when I was a teenager, I had a part-time job at a music studio in Daegu.” He squints out the rainy windshield, like he’s recalling the memory. “I started making my own beats there, and I learned a lot of stuff that fueled my drive to be a producer.”

He glances at you again, and you nod, unsure where this is going.

“But, uh—” He huffs a laugh, like he’s embarrassed. “They didn’t pay me. Just kinda how things were back then, and I was too young to know better.” Stopped at a light now, Yoongi drums his fingers over the steering wheel. “I remember there were a lot of nights where I couldn’t afford both food and the bus ride home. If I wanted to eat, that meant a two hour walk home.”

Your jaw drops. “Jesus.”

Yoongi’s mouth presses into a flat line. “Yeah. Wasn’t easy.” There’s a heavy silence, and then he shrugs. “Anyway. Just made me think of it, when you said you take the bus. I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

“Wow.”

The light changes color and he eases off the brake. You think maybe that’s all you’ll get, and then he nods. “It’s almost like I forget sometimes. That life isn’t still like that. It still feels like it could all get pulled out from under me any second.”

You hum as you take in his words. “And… that’s why you don’t know how to relax?”

The corner of his mouth turns up a little. “Pretty much.”

You can’t suppress the soft laugh that slips out, so you look out the passenger window, letting the sound flutter out to the rain-streaked glass. “Your villain origin story.”

When you glance back at him, a smile has stretched over the whole of Yoongi’s face, though his gaze is still fixed on the road. “Spoken like somebody who wants to walk home.”

There’s a gentle buzzing in your brain, and you wonder if it’s just a post-orgasm high. “Nice try, Min Yoongi,” you tease. “You don’t scare me anymore. I know you’re all empty threats now.”

His eyes flash, and in that moment his expression goes somewhere you can’t quite follow.

“Maybe so.”

The conversation lulls again, and you watch the rain fall fast and heavy on the car windshield, fat droplets scattered aside over and over by the relentless wiper blades.

Try as you might to not think about it, you can’t help but be hyper-aware of Yoongi sitting next to you. He drives one-handed, like it’s easy, his free arm resting on the center console between you. You can see the prominent veins of his hand in clear detail each time the car slips under the glow of a streetlight. Close enough to touch, if you wanted.

The silence has you counting your inhales. It occurs to you that this is the most time you’ve spent in such close proximity to Yoongi where you weren’t actively having sex. You don’t know what to make of it.

He turns into your apartment complex, pulling to a stop in front of your building when you point it out to him. You automatically reach for the door handle, then pause and turn back to look at him, figuring you should say something. “Uh, thanks. For the ride.”

Yoongi smirks. “Thanks for the public speaking lesson.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling a little despite yourself. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow if it worked or not.”

“Guess so.”

There’s a pause, and your heart squeezes into your throat. You don’t know why it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen.

That thought alone is enough to spur you into action, and you quickly avert your gaze from Yoongi’s face. “Have a good night,” you murmur as you fumble open the door, grab your purse, and slip out of the car without waiting for a response.

As you climb the stairs to your apartment and hear the slick of Yoongi’s tires turning out of the complex, you can’t help but wonder if this counts as running away, too.

chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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