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#and if u read the comments they’re all like
theloveinc · 2 years
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grav3yardgirl really acts like it’s still 2014 and the ~lol i’m so random and quirky~ humor is still popular and funny. she had an eyeshadow pallette with tarte and could’ve evolved her channel with her audience but she still acts like it’s 2014. kinda sad considering how popular she was
All of this.
It’s kinda strange to given that like… I feel like she’s not stupid? But given the fact that she can’t seem to let go or move on from trends that have long since died (or act upon the knowledge that her fan base has grown up)… idk what to say.
Not to repeat what u just said but… she could’ve easily pursued a makeup brand after her collab (though I’ve always thought her palette was sorta tacky) or even just doing like… more grown-up seeming reviews and beauty product testing (without whatever the whole sippy-sippy thing is).
Who knows, it’s sad but ig we’ll always be left wondering why she clings so hard.
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saintobio · 2 months
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gojo, akemi, and sachiro all snuggled together in one giant bed, with sachi nestled close to auntie ‘kemi who’s softly singing him to sleep, while dada satoru watches them both, holding them in his arms and feeling this warmth in his heart at the sight of their bond >>>
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ohcaptains · 7 months
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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐲.
pairing. simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader.
synopsis. simon comes home. he's too tired to fuck you right. eventually, he manages to find the energy.
warnings. 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving penetration, blonde simon lol, somnophilia, dry humping, pussy smacking, and crying during sex. i am not responsible for your media consumption.
an. :) life sucked so i found a new animated character to obsess over. please comment & reblog if u enjoyed !
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When Simon comes back, he’s dog-tired.
As soon as his feet touch the welcome mat of your quaint little apartment, he feels all of his muscles relax – as if they’re unpinning themselves from his bones – and he has to give himself a pep talk to muster the energy to drag his hand up to ring the bell.
But he doesn’t have to, because you’re ripping the door open – shining like the sun – and pulling him into your body, rendering all 6,4 ft and 240 pounds of the super soldier to complete mush.
For five minutes, you don’t speak. Just hold him, as you gently rub the corner of his jaw, and brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He clutches you to him.
His fat, paw-like hands hold your upper back, and you hold him with the same vigour. His body – wrapped in his black compression shirt and army pants – is rock solid.
It’s a weaving of muscles that have been tensed for the last two months. It’s going to take a minute for them all to soften, but like he always does when he’s been away, Simon lets out a deep and resolute sigh.
The breath warms your neck, causing it to tingle, and you grasp him tighter, your body waking up.
It’s been a long two months.
He manages to push your intertwined bodies through the doorway, using his boot to kick the door shut. His house smells like home -- funny how you can’t smell it until you’ve been gone a while.
Vanilla and a citrus fruit, mixed with the savoury scent of his favourite meal. He hums again, and you scratch the back of his head, sending shivers down his locked spine.
He knows the route to your bedroom like the back of his hand, and he maneuvers the pair of you inside.
The curtains are closed and the bed is made. You know him. You know him so well.
You let him push you back onto the bed – a blur of familiar limbs and hair – and he settles lower, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you drag your legs up and cross them over the curve of his ass.
You’re all warm and soft and pliable. Dressed in a pair of simple cotton shorts and a vest top, he wants to grab fistfuls of you and remind himself of how you feel in his palms. Wants to drag his lips over your skin, bully his way between your legs and remind himself of how you taste.
Fuck, he wants you, in a carnal, almost primal sort of way, and you the same. He can smell it. A sweet but sweaty longing that melts from you and causes his senses to wake.
But he’s so God damn tired.
You know. Know this routine. Know that he has to settle back in.
In the meantime, you’ll just have to wait.
You fiddle with his hair. “There’s dinner if you want it,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, looping the strands between your fingers, committing the soft feel to memory.
Simon shuffles just an inch on top of you, but still, the slight movement of his clothes and hard, clenched body against yours makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth.
It’ll be chewed raw by the time he has enough energy to take you. He grunts something into your skin, and after a second, you gather it’s, tired.
His scent clouds you.
When Simon comes back, he always smells the same.
The soap at the barracks is pine scented – shampoo a strict lemon.
But there’s always a leftover grit to him. A hidden layer the soap can’t clean off, and it makes you delirious. Makes you flex your ass up – just an inch, a sweet, gentle inch that has you feeling the hard lines of his thighs and the metal of his zipper, and Simon’s breathing hitches.
You freeze. With your hips pushed tight against his, you stare at the ceiling, hoping that your worn-out soldier hasn’t felt you move.
Simon stays quiet. His breathing settles. You go to apologise, but Simon doesn’t grumble or make a sly comment. Listening closer to his breathing, you gather that he’s asleep.
Jesus, you think, that’s a record. Barely in the door and he’s asleep, he must be burnt out. Figuring that you won’t be able to crawl from under his weight, you decide it’s your bedtime too.
Sleep comes fast.
Hours later, you blearily blink awake. Not much has changed – the room is still dark, Simon is still heavy on top of you, yet now, you’re sticking to him with sweat.
He’s usually a human furnace, but this is different.
Your skin prickles, vibrating at a frequency that has nothing to do with heat. No, this is…you feel a pulsating between your thighs, and wiggle, feeling your slick coating your underwear.
Fuck, why are you so wet? You clench, and the resulting ache forces you to hiss and push your head back against the pillows. What did you dream about? Thinking back, you come up short. Then why--
Simon shuffles on top of you. It’s a slight movement, but it continues, and all at once, your heart clenches.
Holy fuck, he’s—
“Simon?” you whisper, and your boyfriend whines into your neck.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, the words wet and desperate. The puzzle pieces lock into place.
He knocks his hips into your crotch once more, and you gasp, clenching, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Simon’s apology comes out again, except this time, it’s christened with a “s-shit – fuck.”
Blinking at the ceiling, you huff and try and glance down, and in the dark, you just about manage to see the outline of his burly body grinding into yours.
You take stock of the situation.
Feel his fat palm around your hip, and squinting, see that he’s got your shorts pulled down around your thighs, and has the band of your underwear looped around his fingers.
Jesus Christ. You fall back into the pillows. “How long have you?” you whisper. “Five – fuck – minutes,” Simon grunts, continuing to roll his thick hips against you. His bulge knocks the edge of your throbbing clit, causing you to gasp again. There’s been no build-up to your want, it’s just there, humming electric, and spread tight over your thighs.
Simon meshes his wet mouth against your chest. He’s tugged your vest top down, too, and his lips close around the skin of your breast. Jesus. He was undressing you as you slept.
“Thought about fuckin’ you, but couldn’t get my pants down, so – shit -- tired. Jus’ woke up and you were just so fuckin’ soft. And wet, Christ, felt you through my trousers.”
Your whole body goes numb. “You were gonna fuck me as I slept?” you whisper, belly flipping. You’d told him – ages ago – that he could, but he hasn’t been here. You’d forgotten.
The image of him pulling your underwear down as you slept streaks across your mind. Imagine waking up with him inside of you, so full and wet and just on the precipice of coming.
Simon grunts. He tugs at the band of your underwear, “I’ll fuck you right, at some point. Just –”
In your delirious state, you manage to finish his sentence, “Tired, I know – I know baby.”
You kiss the crown of his head and whimper into his hair. “Just use me until you’re ready.”
Simon groans out deep and loud. It rumbles against your chest. Echoes through your heart, and you’re so turned on that you begin fidgeting.
You try and squirm away from the stifling ache of your pussy, but Simon’s built like a brick shithouse, so you can’t run from it, just gotta take it and take it and take it, until you can’t anymore, and you break.
You’re so fucked that you don’t even announce that you’re coming, but Simon knows, shit, and as your pussy clenches up tight, he growls low and hard, mumbling, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, until his movements go sloppy, and his breathing goes laboured, and he’s coming into his pants and mewling your name.
When he finally does manage to get inside of you, he doesn’t last long. No, he pushes all the way to the hilt, and you tighten up.
“Stay” you gasp, clenching your pussy around his shaft, and Simon grunts deep and long into your throat.
“S-Stay there,” you moan, then, in case he didn’t hear you, “Stay,” you whisper, and push the ball of your palm into his thick, scarred shoulder. 
You were teetering on a knives edge.
You’ve come once since Simon was home, and your second orgasm of his return was right there.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Simon groans into the shallow of your throat, “Did we do enough prep?” 
“Yes,” you immediately whisper, not wanting him to pull out. 
He’s thick and pulsing inside of you, hard and heavy on top, and God, he kisses at your throat — soft and gentle. You try to swallow down the ball that has swelled in your throat, but tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill. 
No no no no, you think. Not now. Not now not now. You try to stifle the tears, but you unconsciously sniff, and despite Simon being perfectly still, he still manages to freeze.
“Sweetheart?”
You inhale, “Yeah?” 
Simon looks up; and seeing tears on your cheeks, his face falls, “Did I hurt you?”
You furiously wipe the tears away, shaking your head.
“M’just overwhelmed,” you whisper, and he presses his forehead against yours, going to kiss you, but the movement causes his hips to flex against you, nudging his cock, and you whine, immediately gripping onto the back of his dirty blonde locks. 
Simon drops his face into your chest and lets out a pained rasp, “Tightening around me, kid.” 
You unclench, “m’sorry.” 
“Gonna come quick.” 
“S’okay.” 
“I’ll fuck you right, just gotta…” he trails off and grabs fist fulls of your hips.
“Fuck,” he huffs wistfully, “This pussy. Missed this fucking pussy.”
You go dizzy with need. Shake your head, and bend to kiss him, tasting his wet and swollen lips. Gently, you knock your hips up into his, and when he lets out a surprised grumble, you flex your hips higher, trying to stuff his cock deeper, further – till you can see it pressing into your belly.
Catching onto your plan, Simon grunts and pushes your hips with his fat palms, pinning your ass to the mattress. 
“Stop,” he orders, and the demand goes straight to your cunt. Jesus. He hasn’t been very dominant since his return, and that little instruction has you chomping on the bit.
“Want you, Si.”
“One stroke and I’ll be fucked.” 
“Just gotta practice.” 
He chokes on a laugh, muttering, “Practice.” 
You try another tactic. Clench around his cock and pout, “Want you to come inside me.”
“Fuck,” Simon cuts. You curl your legs back his back and push your foot into the dense muscle of his ass, at the same time rocking your hips up. Simon lets you. Let’s you try and fuck yourself on his cock. With wet lips, you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering his name.
“Gonna fill me up, Si?”
“Fuckin’ filthy, you know that?”
Simon pulls back, and your heart stutters.
You think he’s going to pull out, until he uses your hips to pull you tight against his cock -- your ass nearly sitting on his thighs. His thick, scarred chest is puffed up.
Cheeks red, and he’s got that animal glint in his pretty eyes.
It knocks you for six.
“Where you want it?” he asks, and you’re confused, until he presses the heel of his palm into the middle of your tummy.
“Shoot my load here, huh?”
Your body goes numb. Eyes white out. It happens so suddenly that it scares you, and you’re a mixture of turned on and frightened, but the fear turns you on even more.
All you can do is blearily look up at him as he slides his paw to the other side of your tummy, “or shoot it here. Fuck it so deep that you can taste it.”
He pretends to think about it. Even hums, before he drags his palm up and stuffs his thumb into your mouth. “Or just directly here, huh?” He snarls a smile, “know you like it when your mouth is full.”
You suck at his thumb, and tighten your cunt around his cock, causing his mouth to open, and eyes to flutter, and just like that, you’ve won.
He comes in record time.
But Simon keeps his promises.
A couple of days later – on the seventh day he’s back -- he fucks you so good, that when you wake up the next morning, you get shy just thinking about it. 
Lay in bed, staring at the ceiling – your boyfriend fast asleep on your chest -- remembering the debauchery you’d gotten up to the night before. 
The pair of you are a little tipsy, drunk on beer and wine, but all it’s done is heighten your senses, and made you fully aware of your desires, so much so, that they pulsate behind your eyelids like a migraine.
Simons got you face down, ass up, and as he pushes you face first into the mattress, he presses his thumb against the tight, fluttering hole of your pussy.  
“Gonna let me inside, baby?”
You sink into your thighs and spread yourself wider for him, humming into your crossed arms. Simon watches your pussy spread further, and he can’t help himself, he has to slide his thumb deeper.
He presses, just barely pushing the tip of his thumb into your wet hole, and you gasp, trying to chase the feeling by inching back against his fat palm.  He laughs at you. “Look at your pussy sucking my thumb in, baby. Wish you could see what I’m seeing. So fuckin’ sexy.”
You hum, the words making you wetter – dripping over his thumb.
“Been dreaming of fucking you right, gonna take you whenever I want.”
“Okay,” you whisper, so delirious that you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. Simon raises a brow,
“Yeah?” he asks, tone breathless. Thought he’d get some pushback on that one, but for a second, he forgot that you said the nastiest shit with his dick inside of you.
You nod into your crossed arms, and Simon laughs again, “Free use pussy,” he sounds, then lightly smacks your sodden folds, causing you to flinch, bucking forward. 
“Oh fuck,” you choke, eyes rolling back. Heat ricochets through your crotch and swamps your belly, before settling back in your aching pussy. Once you manage to collect yourself – and it takes a second -- you huff. “Bein’ mean.”
Simon snorts, grabs your hips, then rams the underside of his cock against your pussy, grinning so big that his scars stretch, “don’t know the half of it, babe.” 
You sob, real tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Your desire is visceral, enough for you to taste it on your tongue. Simon pulls back, and your slick coats the length of his dick, earning yourself another light smack to your cunt.
“Soakin’ me,” he grunts, and you sob into the sheets. “Please,” you whisper, then, please please please, and Simon hears your breathing hitch. 
This time, instead of checking up on you, he chuckles, “Crying again, baby?”
You sniff and wipe your eyes on your wrist, face heating.
“No,” you mumble, and Simon sighs.
He reads you like a book. Always has. Always will.
“Lying to me,” he grumbles, then he steers the uncut head of his cock between your folds, whispering, “Lie to me again, and I’ll give you something to cry about,” before bottoming out in one thrust.
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teruthecreator · 10 months
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blegh
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bcyhoods · 1 year
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i need to start replying to feedback and comments but i get so scared im sorry </3 pls tell me someone understands, i’ll ramble in the tags🤞
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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DISGUSTINGLY INLOVE | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which you and tom have finally revealed your relationship!
AUTHOR NOTE. another one cause y’all seemed to love the first part. can be read as a stand-alone but you should check out first part bc it’s pretty awesome 😏 OH AND here is third part!
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ynuser so excited to announce that the ballad of songbirds and snakes is available in theatres NOW! it was definitely such a rollercoaster of emotions and so fun and exciting to be able to play balleona laurent, a crazy, power and love infatuated teenage girl from the academy. i want to thank all my costars, they really are amazing and helped me throughout the entire movie!
tagged @/lionsgate, @/tomblyth, @/rachelzegler, @/hunterschafer, @/joshandresrivera
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user1 you really brought balleona to life girly! i pictured her exactly how you made her to be
➥ ynuser oh im crying this means so much 😭😭
➥ user1 you deserve all the recognition and love!!!
tomblyth fave villain
➥ user2 get out they’re so cute
user3 inlove with the way you sang, literal chills
jenniferlawrence you’ll never take my spot!! 🧐🧐 (all jokes aside, you did AMAZING.)
➥ ynuser HAHHA i love you, so grateful i was able to meet you the other day!!
rachelzegler round of applause to us !!!
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tomblyth coryo, janus, leona, and lucy gray behind the scenes 🎬
tagged @/ynuser, @/rachelzegler, @/joshandresrivera
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user4 everyone say thank you tom for feeding us with yn, rachel and josh content!
ynuser really had to do me like that
➥ tomblyth wdym you’re so pretty, i love u in this pic
➥ user5 hello?? his response. 😪😪 im crying
user6 bye rachel looks so done in first pic
user7 their friendship :(
ilovetomblyth everyone getting nicknames and then there’s just lucy gray HAHAH
➥ rachelzegler very hard to give lucy a nickname 🤕
➥ ilovetomblyth OMG RACHEL ILY
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lionsgate new behind the scenes interview with our favorite people, rachel zegler, tom blyth, and yn avocot!
tagged @/rachelzegler, @/tomblyth, @/ynuser
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tomblythswife girlies after seeing the way tom looks and talks about yn
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user9 bro looked at her like she is the love of his life I’m done
user10 “babe, im literally from the UK” STOPPP THEYRE TOO CUTE 😭😭😭
user11 she LISTENED TO LONDON BOY WHEN SHE FIRST MET HIM 💔💔💔💔💔💔😔
ilovetomblyth literally felt it in my guts
user12 when the credits rolled and you can hear tom saying “she’s like the sun and more.” GOSH.
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ynuser carpet ready 😵‍💫
tagged @/tomblyth
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tomblyth 😚😚
user8 THE LAST PIC?
iloveyn oh gosh they’re so 💔💔
rachelzegler enougghhh
➥ ynuser oh shh as if this isn’t u and josh
➥ joshandresrivera cruel yn, cruel. (true tho!)
tomholland so pretty!
➥ tomblyth im the only tom she needs in her life btw
➥ yndaily EXCUSE ME HELLO
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foreveralbon · 18 days
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i’m having his baby! - cl16
in which they have a dog, an ollie and… a stroller? pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader requested!
i believe that in order to make smaus you need to be a) funny and b) aesthetic. neither of which i am, i fear. click on the tweets to see the full thing + ignore the dates i was too lazy to change all of them. happy reading! general masterlist
yourusername just posted!
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 100,639 others
yourusername oh look! it’s my boyfriend and his son
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charles_leclerc i love you mon amour
charles_leclerc the most amazing mother to our son -> yourusername no one was expecting any less though -> landonorris i didn’t think you’d keep either of them alive this long actually -> yourusername i’m gonna block you norris
charles_leclerc prettiest girl i know is on the other side of the screen -> yourusername DON’T MAKE ME BLUSH WHEN I CAN’T KISS YOUUUU
maxverstappen1 my son, you mean… -> yourusername so charles is our boyfriend? -> maxverstappen1 hi babe -> charles_leclerc i never consented to this wtf
user1 when you are coming back to the paddock!?! we miss you here ☹️☹️☹️ -> yourusername SOON I PROMISE! i’m nothing more than an academic victim i fear 😞
user2 the height difference is killing me 😭😭
user3 does this mean seb is ollie’s grandfather?
olliebearman birthgiver -> yourusername hellspawn (affectionate)
charles_leclerc just posted!
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liked by yourusername, lorenzotl and 1,274,937 others
charles_leclerc the newest addition to the family. welcome home leo 🤍🤍
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yourusername kissing leo
olliebearman BABY BROOOOO
user4 i wanna squish him oh my god
user5 they’re so soft
user6 THEY’RE STARTING THEIR OWN FAMILY NOW 😭
maxverstappen1 cats are better -> charles_leclerc you literally had a dog at one stage? -> maxverstappen1 cats are better.
landonorris tell ur girlfriend to unblock me pls
welcome to the world of f1twt!
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yourusername and charles_leclerc just posted!
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,482,693 others
yourusername the final addition to our family of five: little baby clara ❤️❤️
landonorris my favourite goddaughter fr -> user12 lando is clara’s godfather? 🥲🥲 -> user13 more importantly: LANDO’S BEEN UNBLOCKED!!
user20 new favourite f1 family incoming!!
kimi.antonelli IS THIS THE SURPRISE SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT? olliebearman -> olliebearman HAHA YES -> user14 kimi what are you doing here?
charles_leclerc mes anges ❤️
maxverstappen1 there’s a seat next to p’s on the plane with clara’s name on it -> yourusername ROAD TRIP 🗣️🗣️🗣️
user15 charles is so girl-dad coded
theiceman I WAS RIGHT I WAS FUCKING RIGHT liked by yourusername
iamrebeccad oh she is such a sweetheart! can’t wait to meet her in the garage 💕💕 -> charles_leclerc soon, we promise!
user16 the daddy-daughter paddock fits are gonna so hard i’m telling u guys now
user17 may as well just sleep on the highway tonight ig
user18 you look like clara bow 😭😭😭 in this light remarkable 😭😭😭 -> yourusername taylor wrote it for my baby actually <3
user19 i can’t believe theiceman on twt wasn’t just being delusional -> theiceman i fucking told you all but noooo i was wrong and i needed to get my brain checked for overthinking it
@namgification @disneyprincemuke @hiireadstuff @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh @33-81 @demvnsriot let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
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healmyhrt · 3 months
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Ok so like yk how Chris always slaps Matt’s or Nicks ass well what abt they are like live on instagram or sum and he kinda just forgets and slaps the reader ass yk and he doesn’t realized u til Nick or Matt say something and so they is like edits on tt and yea 
⌗ public, c. sturniolo
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chris x fem!reader
summary: what the request says :)
disclaimers!: established relationship, ass slapping, flirting, cursing, use of y/n, very short
a/n: i love when yall send requests and start it with “babe” like … what r we 😉??
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“where’s matt? probably sleeping or something.” chris responds to a comment. nick sits back down next to him, handing him a pepsi can.
“but yeah guys, we’re back home in LA. and we just wanted to come on here and say hello for a bit.” nick smiles into the camera.
i walk into the kitchen, and open the fridge, unaware that i’m in camera view. “y/n, come say hey to the live.” nick smiles.
i walk over, a gallon of orange juice in hand. “hey guys.”
the chat starts going insane, and i slowly start to step away. chris grips the tee im wearing (which was his), and pulls me back. he manspreads, and i glance at the phone. chris shrugs, and i give him a look.
“wanna sit and talk to them, y/n? i can move seats.” nick suggests. i shake my head, and walk back behind the island. chris stands, and walks over to me.
all you could see in the background of the live was chris towering over me.
“why didn’t you sit?”
i glare at him. “you guys are on live, chris.” he shrugs. i cross my arms. “i thought we weren’t going public.”
“so friends can’t sit on other friends laps?” he smiles, and leans closer toward me. “chris.” his smile widens when he hears me say his name. “christopher.”
“call me that again.”
i laugh. “you’re unbelievable.” i begin to walk away, still in view of the live camera. i hear chris chuckle underneath his breath, and next a slap to my ass cheek.
i stop in my tracks, and turn around trying to contain my myself while i look at chris. nick had turned around, and his mouth gaped open.
“yall are fucking ridiculous.”
nick turns back toward the phone. “um… on that note, i think we’re gonna get off. i love you guys! bye!” he says.
nick picks up his phone, and walks over to us. “chris, you’re fucking insane. are you actually mental?”
i stand next to him, and look at chris. “THANK YOU!!” chris rolls his eyes, and i walk out of the kitchen, turning down the stairwell to chris’s room.
i hear footsteps behind me, already knowing who it was.
“what the hell was that chris?” i ask in a genuinely confused tone. he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.
“i thought it would be funny, sorry.”
“you’re the one who said you didn’t want to go public yet because of how hard it would be to have a girlfriend, then you do this shit?”
i sit on the edge of his bed. chris slumps down beside me, and leans his head onto my shoulder. “im sorry.”
i sigh. “its fine.”
chris pulls his phone out, and sees a text from nick.
“look what you did dumbass.” the text read. i giggle at the message, as chris slides it to the side, opening it.
it was a tiktok video of a screen recording from the live, and the clip was of chris slapping my butt. my eyes widen.
“shit, they’re fast.”
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1-800-kami · 8 months
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
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it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
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“what do you have me saved as?” 
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
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you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
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it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex. 
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
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the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
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“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
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“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.” 
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
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this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 
you wish you never did.
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you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
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when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
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part 2 ;)
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javiscigarette · 6 months
Text
Silent Night
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.
Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything
w/c: 6.6k
a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!
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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”
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You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 
You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 
Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 
He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.
"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.
You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."
It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.
The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.
Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.
"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"
"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.
"Jus' three."
"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"
"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 
You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."
Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.
You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.
"M'not drunk"
You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"
"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."
"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.
Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 
When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.
He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 
He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 
He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 
You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 
"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”
He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 
"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"
His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 
“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 
Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 
You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.
But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.
Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 
"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 
“I don’t- oh…” 
The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 
“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 
There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 
His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 
Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.
"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."
Fuck.
His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.
"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"
"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.
He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 
You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 
“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 
“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 
“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 
You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 
Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 
“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 
Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 
He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.
He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.
He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.
You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.
He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.
"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-
He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.
He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.
"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 
He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.
When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.
"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.
You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.
He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.
He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.
He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.
"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."
He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.
He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.
"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."
You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"
He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.
"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."
Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.
He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.
You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 
His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.
"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."
The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.
He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.
"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.
You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.
"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.
Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.
"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.
You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.
You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.
He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.
"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"
You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.
He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.
"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."
He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."
You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.
"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"
He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.
Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.
He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.
"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."
You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.
"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.
You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.
"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."
You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.
"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"
You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.
"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"
Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.
"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."
His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 
"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 
You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 
“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 
That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.
"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 
The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.
"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."
"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.
"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"
He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 
"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."
He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.
"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.
You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 
“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 
You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 
You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 
“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 
You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 
“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 
“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 
“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 
“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”
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Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
Text
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# IN A WORLD OF BOYS, THEY’RE GENTLEMEN | MV1 & CL16
summary: people always like to jump into conclusions and you are the internet’s newest victim, the ‘slut playing with two boys’. little do they know, there’s more to the story.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warning: kaia gerber as fem!reader, cursing, toxic fans, tiny bit of angst because i like to make them suffer, f1 grid because they need their own warning. inspired in the song slut! by taylor swift.
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# INSTAGRAM
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Liked by user01, f1wagsnews and 152,840 others
paddockgossip Max Verstappen and a mysterious girl spotted in Monaco this afternoon. This is the second time we’ve seen them in a span of two weeks. We still don’t know who she is, but they seem pretty close. Is Max Verstappen finally taken?
View all 9,738 comments
user01 not paddockgossip calling max’s childhood friend a ‘mysterious girl’ loool
user02 she’s been getting so much attention ever since they started dating
user03 we don’t even know if they’re actually dating
user04 i’m sure i’ve seen her before 🤔
user05 that’s because you have! she was seen with charles leclerc like a month ago but no one talks about it bc they haven’t been seen together after that user06 she’s friends with max AND charles????
user07 is this really max wearing non redbull merch???
user08 the girlfriend effect is real user09 ffs we don’t know if they’re dating
user10 no one’s asking the important question here: who is she?? do we have an instagram, twitter, something????
user11 she’s @/yourusername user12 no way she’s THAT pretty
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Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 63,734 others
yourusername tummy hurts don’t talk 2 me
View all 9,738 comments
user13 so this is max’s new girlfriend?
user14 shes one of us.
user15 SHE LIKES MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANA DEL REY? SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR
user16 and she has stomach issues too. it’s like looking at myself in a mirror
charles_leclerc but i was omw with some goddies, what do i do now?
yourusername tummy don’t hurt anymore 🥺
user17 i didn’t know charles and y/n were that close
user18 girl haven’t you seen the photos? user17 WHAT PHOTOS
maxverstappen1 i won’t say i told you so but i told you so.
yourusername you’re no fun at all
user18 oh to be y/n and have not one but two formula 1 drivers flirting with me in the comments
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# TWITTER
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# INSTAGRAM
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Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 135,767 others
yourusername book nerds! 📚 we have some really exciting changes coming for our book club in the next couple of weeks — but in the meantime, i want to share that the incredible @/lauradern will be joining us to talk about “honey, baby, mine”, a collection of conversations between laura and her mom… grab a copy and join us next thursday!
View all 12,658 comments
ana_d_armas This is amazing! 👏👏 can’t wait to join you and know more about this amazing book.
user19 Reading now!
user20 is that-is that really max verstappen?
user21 max verstappen? like as in formula one champion max verstappen? THAT ONE?
user22 what is max doing with her?
user23 do u think he knows about what’s going on with her and charles? think about your gf cheating on your face with your so called ‘friend’ user24 he has to know otherwise that’s pretty sad. user22 think about your gf cheating on you with your friend and having to see that friend every weekend… that’s so fucking awkward!
user25 where is charles? you got tired of him already? 😂
redbullracing You said he was gonna join your book club but all I see is Max napping. Bad. Very bad behavior.
yourusername sorry admin i tried!
user26 i need an explanation, like i would settle for anything at this point i just wanna know what is happening with them
user27 stop freaking out! they’re probably just friends
user28 yeah right nobody believes that
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Liked by user29, francisca.cgomes and 254,122 others
paddockgossip New photos of Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N out and about in Barcelona. There are multiple witnesses that saw the couple ‘very cozy, they couldn’t stop touching each other’ inside the restaurant — this comes after the pictures of Y/N with Charles Leclerc kissing on his yatch just a week ago. We don’t know what is happening, who is cheating on who, but we do not support this kind of behavior.
View all 19,767 comments
user29 this is disgusting
user30 what is this chick playing at?
user31 oh shut up you all. you wish you were her.
user32 WHAT IS GOING ON WHY IS NO ONE SAYING SOMETHING ??? user33 probably because this is bullshit
user34 you don’t know anything. is actually so fun seeing you all losing your minds over this.
user35 I NEED ANSWERS
user36 they look good together ngl
francisca.cgomes 😂
user37 kika what does this mean
user38 they’re sick
user39 she’s jumping from one driver to another it wouldn’t surprise me if the next one is lando.
user40 at this point i think she would pretty much crawl into anybody’s bed
user41 she’s just looking for fame
user42 that’s what i’m saying! just look at her followers now, she gained like 100k user43 oh i hate her so much
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Liked by user44, wags_news and 534,665 others
paddockgossip Well, well… We really thought we wouldn’t get any more news about the chaotic mess between Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen & Charles Leclerc, so, we were a little surprised to see Charles’ latest instagram story (second slide) where he tagged Y/N! It’s a beautiful picture but then we have Y/N’s story: a conversation between her and Max Verstappen. So, what do you think is happening here?
View all 25,736 comments
user45 OH MY GOD LOVE OF MY LIFE?????
user46 are they-are they soft launching their relationship?
user47 nah it’s mpossible these boys don’t know y/n is playing with them
user48 oh bestie that is so not what’s happening here
user49 I KNEW IT BUT NO ONE BELIEVED ME
user50 what the actual fuck
user51 she’s such a slut
user52 she’s cheating and she doesn’t care. iconic
user53 i’m gonna throw up
user54 they need to get out of there asap
user55 SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM
user56 OH MY FUCKING GOD SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM. SHES DATING LESTAPPEN
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Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others
yourusername you really thought you knew it all, uh?
View all 886,728 comments
maxverstappen1 loves of my life.
liked by author and charles_leclerc
user57 WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFF
charles_leclerc my pretty girl and pretty boy.
liked by author and maxverstappen1
user58 THEY ARE DATING??? THE THREE OF THEM??
carlossainz55 FUCKING FINALLY.
user59 LESTAPPEN IS REAL WTF
lilymhe i love you all so much. 🩷
pierregasly you can finally stop moaning to me about wanting to be public. i was just about to commit murder.
user60 i never thought i would see the day where charles and max would be kissing
user61 not only that but also dating user62 in a poly relationship*
francisca.cgomes my favorite throuple. 💜
user63 this is so NOT what i was expecting
landonorris can you adopt me?
oscarpiastri me too, please.
user64 the fifth pic??? i also wanna kiss both of them pls
redbullracing Can we celebrate now? 🥺
scuderiaferrari My house? 10PM?
alex_albon this is such a surprise to me. i’m shocked.
danielricciardo MY PARENTS. 🤩
user65 look at that last slide 😭 they really were destined to be together.
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cl6teen · 5 months
Text
old habits (die hard) ❀ cl16
in which charles charles has a knack for fucking things up, and you have a talent for slowly letting him back in
find part one here.
contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, toxic relationships maybe, mentions of new partners, charles is a confusing man, charles is a jealous asshole
note: i don’t think this is the final part lmao it’s kinda left of a cliff (if u saw me repost no u didn’t)
your phone 📞
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charlie
hey
i miss you
a lot
read, 11:23 pm.
charlie
please don’t be like that y/n
i’m serious
you
charles you literally have a girlfriend
charlie
she’s not my girlfriend
you
do you think i’m stupid? like actually
charlie
no
but she really isn’t, we’re just talking
and hanging out i guess
you
oh my god
charlie
love, you know i miss you
you
yes, because finding another girl right after saying you only want to focus on racing sends me such a great message
you’re confusing as hell
charlie
i know, i really messed up.
i shouldn’t have broken up with you in the first place
but the season was getting so intense and i really want this championship, i thought it would be better for us to put it on pause to save us both the trouble
you
so what’s so different about her that makes her an exception?
charles
alex is easy for me
you
so i’m difficult?
charles
that’s not what i mean
you
no it is what you mean
i’m difficult for showing up to your races and being there when you need me
or when i’m there for you when you dnf? or when ferrari fucks up your strategy?
i was willing to stay friends with you after i did all that and you still broke up with me because i had hopes we would make it work and get back together
charlie
i do want to get back together
you
no you don’t
you moved on so quickly like i was nothing
charlie
you also got with someone too
you
because i didn’t want to look like an idiot seeing all the news after telling my friends i had hope
charlie
yeah but posting him in your bed??
you
so you’re just saying all of this because of that guy i posted?
wtf is your deal charles
fuck you
❀ instagram ❀
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, alexalbon, and 70,331others
yourinstagram larger than life (in madrid)
view all comments
lilymhe oh my god
lilymhe you scandalous girl
yourinstagram oops?
landonorris he better watch his hands
yourinstagram he said “fuck off”
landonorris i’ll punch him in his face
carlossainz55 mariposa 🦋
yourinstagram 🥺
user are these two dating???
4zaferrari no they’re just friends, this is someone else
kikagomes sexy sexy pair 💋
yourinstagram you’re sexier bebe
pierregasly get away from my girlfriend
yourinstagram get off my page maybe?
alexalbon show me the man
yourinstagram no you’ll just steal him
user loved watching your vlog the other day
liked by yourinstagram
user seeing yn happy is so great but i can’t be the only one missing her and charles right??
user where are you going next omg!!
yourinstagram no idea!!
lando.jpg updated their story 1 hour ago
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seen by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1 million others
yourinstagram replied to this story: i did not give permission for you to post this young man!
❀ twitter ❀
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your phone 📞
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charlie
you put him in your vlog? and you’re still posting him?
are you dating
y/n
are we seriously doing this right now
why are you stalking me
charlie
i’m not stalking you, i just care
fuck just answer the question please
y/n
i’m barely posting him, his face wasn’t in it
and no, we’re just seeing each other right now. yk summer flings i guess
charlie
you know it hurts me to see this y/n, please love
y/n
i don’t care, we’re not together anymore
you texting me is hurting everyone, your “friend” included
charlie
she knows we’re not dating
please just come back to monaco y/n
we can talk face to face
can i call you right now?
you
i’m with carlos and lando
charlie
are you also with that guy
you
yeah
charlie
will you finally tell me who he is?
you
does it really matter?
let’s just talk when i’m back in monaco please
and let me enjoy my vacation in peace
charlie
when are you back?
you
i’ll let you know
charlie
okay
i love you
you
yeah
love you too
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tags: @1655clean @i-wish-this-was-me @sunny44 @leclercdream
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hoseoksluna · 4 months
Text
BOOKWORMS | knj
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pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader
genre: smut; fluff
word count: 4.4k
summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.
warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(
note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!
side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3
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You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 
Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 
You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.
Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.
“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.
It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.
Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 
He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.
The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 
You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.
***
Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.
Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.
“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 
You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”
His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 
“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”
Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 
“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 
Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.
“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.
You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 
“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”
You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”
“He got some!” 
Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”
“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 
“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.
“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”
You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.
“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”
You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 
“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 
It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.
A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.
“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”
Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 
You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.
“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 
You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.
“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”
Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”
You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 
“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”
You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”
“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” 
“That’s my girl. 
You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.
“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”
“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 
His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.
“Fuck, baby.” 
“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”
Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 
He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 
“Sit on the counter.”
You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 
Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”
You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 
Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 
Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”
He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 
You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.
“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”
You nod.
“Use your words or we’re stopping.”
You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”
Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 
Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 
You do, weakly.
“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”
You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 
He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 
You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 
Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 
“Come on.”
Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 
“I got you.”
Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.
“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 
You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 
He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.
“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 
One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 
Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 
“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 
“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 
He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.
“You forgot something.”
He thrusts again, harder this time.
“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 
“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”
He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 
“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”
He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 
“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 
Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 
“Please, hmph, fuck me.”
Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 
He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 
“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 
You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 
He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 
“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”
Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.
“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.
Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 
He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 
You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 
Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 
From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 
Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”
The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 
“Look.” 
You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 
He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 
Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.
You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 
He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 
And you do the same for him.
Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 
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povlnfour · 6 months
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚ SECRET LOVE SONG (CL16)
pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader
summary: an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.
*faceclaim: seo soojin, but please imagine her as you see fit
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 9,016 people
anonymousf1 post dated 23.06.22, captioned ‘shirtless season in full swing’
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user UM. IS THAT CHARLES???
user wait we’ve never seen these photos before right?
user @/user nope don’t recognise them? could be wrong but
user check the bio on the account they’ve all come from an account called see.el.sixteen ? CL16??
user whilst i don’t support leaking people’s private accounts… thank u for these beautiful photos
user @/user i just want to know who took them
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 10,713 people
anonymousf1 post dated 28.12.22, captioned ‘day 1 - day 2 - day 3’
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user i know these are being leaked but i’m giggling over how simple his caption is
user HES SO BOYF CODED HOW IS THIS MAN NOT TAKEN
user hating the method loving that we’re actually getting charles content
user @/user IKR PHOTOS FREE FROM THAT FILTER
user gonna be that person and say i’m eating this content up
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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anonymousf1 post dated 04.08.23, captioned ‘caught’
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user who is he looking at with so much love
user i need to know who took these bc the way he’s looking at them…
user all this boyfriend content,,, not so sure this man is single anymore
user WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY
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anonymousf1 post dated 03.02.23, captioned ‘in between study sessions’
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user WHO IS THAT
user UM
user THE MESSAGE ON THE HAND??? DID SHE DRAW THAT??? IS HE TAKEN??? IM SO LOST
user first photo and how pretty he looks distracting me from the fact he poSTED A GIRL?
user heyyy admin post a clearer one so i can see her
user @/user literally i wanna see how cute she is
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anonymousf1 post dated 12.05.23, captioned ‘❤️’
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user IS THAT HER?
user oh my god she’s HOT
user THE SINGLE RED HEART. IM READING INTO IT.
user wait she’s so pretty
user THE POLAROIDS WITH THE DRAWINGS ON THEM☹️☹️☹️
user so this is charles’ girlfriend?
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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anonymousf1 post dated 06.06.22, no caption
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user oh so it’s been going on for a YEAR???
user trying to pretend i’m not reading into them laying that close in swimwear
user oh so this is definitely his girlfriend huh
user heartbroken bc he’s off the market, ecstatic bc he’s happy
user @/user until he learns his entire private account is now on the internet
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 35,407 people
anonymousf1 post dated 19.09.23, captioned ‘singapore your sights are perfect’
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user THE CAPTION — HE MEANS HER☹️
user i love watching the likes go up with every post
user THATS DEFINITELY HIS SHIRT TOO
user we don’t have confirmation they’re dating but i’m taking This as confirmation that they’re dating
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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anonymousf1 captioned ‘happy birthday sweet girl’
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user oh. Oh.
user SWEET GIRL☹️☹️☹️☹️
user i know i’m here for charles… but i’m absolutely obsessed with her
user DOES ANYONE KNOW HER INSTAGRAM
user @/user I THINK THIS IS HER ??? @/yourusername
user @/user DAMN SHES PRIVATE BUT THE ICON IS DEFINITELY HER
user @/user at least we know her name is y/n
anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 47,501 people
anonymousf1 post dated 19.10.23, captioned ‘3 years with you. hoping for 30. and more if you’ll let me’
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user THREE WHOLE YEARS??? HES HIDDEN HER FROM US FOR T H R E E YEARS?!?!?
user oh my god it’s official. they’re actually together
user THE SECOND PHOTO THEY ARE SO CUTE HELLO
user y/n is mother already
user i want to pinch her cheeks but also slam my head on a table
charles_leclerc just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername and 1,127,805 others
charles_leclerc secrets out i guess. not the way i wanted it to happen but glad i can finally show you off. mine forever❤️
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user HE MADE IT OFFICIAL OHHHH HE LOVES HER
user sorry your privacy was invaded king but thanks for giving me a new woman to obsess over
landonorris finally i can stop editing y/n out of the photos i take
user MY FAVOURITE COUPLE ALREADY
user @/yourusername go public so i can cry over how pretty you are pls
yourusername @/user 🤭 bet
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername privacy is sexy but so are you
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user MOTHER.
user THANK YOU FOR ALL THE CHARLES CONTENT
user 10/10 recommend stalking her account guys she posts the best charles pictures
user MA’AM THANK YOU FOR LETTING US IN IVE WANTED TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW HOT YOU ARE FOR FOREVER
charles_leclerc always been a woman of few words. love you baby❤️
yourusername @/charles_leclerc i love you more
charles_leclerc @/yourusername you’ll have to fight me on it
——
a/n:
first quick charles post bc this idea came to me last night and i wanted to make it happen <<33 there will be a proper au for him later in the week (just need to edit all 5k+ words) but for now ta da
as always, let me know your thoughts!!! and it goes without saying,,, privacy IS sexy, don’t leak people’s photos unless it’s in social media au form <<33
- giselle xx
taglist (found here): @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @ironmaiden1313 @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @hobiismyhopeu @mingkyungseokie
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kithtaehyung · 7 months
Text
u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg
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3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣
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explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩
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“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 
“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 
Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 
“Barbie was great and you know it.” 
“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 
“I got this.” 
Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 
“Yeah, probably.” 
Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 
The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 
“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 
“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 
“So is the jersey?”
“I have two of these.”
“…I will never understand you.”
The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 
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If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 
Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 
It’s magical. 
But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 
Ugh. 
At least he’s carrying everything. 
“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  
“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 
“The lights are so nice, though.” 
“Uh huh.” 
After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 
And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 
“Hey! You made it!” 
Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 
As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 
“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”
“For what?” 
“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 
Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 
When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 
“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.
“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 
“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 
“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 
“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 
His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 
Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 
Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 
“Yoongi! You, too?” 
Huh? Him, too? 
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 
Hot? What could possibly be—
Oh. 
Fucking.
Hell. 
It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 
And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 
You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 
Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 
How the fuck are you supposed to react! 
“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 
Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.
“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 
And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 
“Why?” 
“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 
Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.
But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 
“And you dressed basic for what?” 
Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 
Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 
But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 
“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 
“Won’t help you, doll.” 
Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 
Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 
“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 
Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 
And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 
Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 
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You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 
Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.
And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  
Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 
Shit, you can’t do this. 
If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 
But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 
You [10:02pm]: what🥺 
“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 
“Where’re we going?” 
“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 
From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 
Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 
You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕
Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 
Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 
It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 
So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 
You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 
It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 
Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 
Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 
You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 
You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 
This is bad. 
Why can’t he be super annoying instead—
Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 
Well. 
You [10:10pm]: 😐 
Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 
Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 
“I will once you stop sexting.” 
“We are not!” 
“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 
Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 
“A model.” 
He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 
“Yup.” 
Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 
Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 
Why does he have to say all the right things?
You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 
Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 
You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 
You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 
Wait. 
Have you ever been that bold? 
Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 
Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 
And rude. 
You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛
“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 
The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 
Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 
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Nope. 
Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 
Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.
But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 
“You know what’s up.” 
“Dom!” 
“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 
Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 
“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 
“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 
Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 
“He’s not my—”
Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 
“Is he coming?” 
“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 
Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 
It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 
“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 
What? 
Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.
Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 
But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 
Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 
Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 
Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 
Fuck, what if his hand is better! 
Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 
Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 
But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…
That last card may have just saved your ass.
You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.
“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 
And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 
With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 
Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 
And outside of it. 
While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 
At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 
When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 
After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 
Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 
This is agonizing. 
Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 
Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.
Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 
Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 
Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 
Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 
But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 
He’s not like that anymore. 
But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 
Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 
How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 
Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.
You’d rather be standing together. 
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Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.
Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 
The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 
You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  
“What’s your favorite candy?”
“Chocolate!”
“I like gummi bears.”
Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.
Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”
“Yeah! One sec.”
As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,
“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 
One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 
“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 
Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 
“Yeah!” 
Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 
But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 
“What’s up!”
“Come here real quick!”
When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 
When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 
As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 
Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.
Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 
But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 
The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 
“Meow.” 
Oh. God.
Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 
And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 
“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 
“Yes, huh!” 
“No!” 
“Look! I have ears!” 
“No! You sound like a human!” 
“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 
Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 
Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 
One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 
When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 
But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 
“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 
You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 
But what you do know? 
You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 
“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”
Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”
“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 
There’s one other thing you know for sure. 
Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 
Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.
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Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 
An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 
But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 
Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 
To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.
“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 
Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 
“I am!” 
As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 
“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 
Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 
“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 
“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 
Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 
You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 
Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 
Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 
“When?”
“At Hobi’s?”
“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 
“It does—!” 
Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 
“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 
Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 
If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 
More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 
“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.
Your brother was right yet again. 
There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 
Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 
There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 
Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 
Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 
“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 
“Hey!” 
The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 
Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.
And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.
Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  
And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 
“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 
And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 
Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 
Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 
Still a goddamn menace. 
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 
“I am.” 
“So do something!” 
“Am I holding a basketball?” 
Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 
“Fine.” 
And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 
All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 
“Don’t listen to him.” 
“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 
Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 
“Whose side are you on!” 
“You got something to say?” 
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 
While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 
“No, I’ll make it.” 
He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 
Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 
Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.
“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 
“The haunted house?” 
“Yeah, that.” 
After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 
And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 
While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 
Huh. 
Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 
“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 
Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 
As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...
He’s already walking away. 
And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 
Umm.
What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 
…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?
Motherfucker.
Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 
So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  
But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 
Because he’s watching that dude leave. 
Looking pissed. 
Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—
He’s not—
What is he doing?
He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 
Right?
…This is bold as fuck. 
Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 
“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 
Damn. No subtlety this time?
You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 
But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 
“I should’ve done this sooner.”
“You didn’t know.” 
“Doesn’t matter.”
When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 
Yoongi is actually furious.  
Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 
Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 
They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 
Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  
“Y’all good over there?”
“Yeah.” 
Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 
That’s probably best for everyone involved. 
“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.
And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 
“Okay.” 
No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 
But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 
The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 
Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 
And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.
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The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 
But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 
So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 
Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 
Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 
But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 
Did you feel jealous? Upset? 
To your pleasant surprise, not really. 
Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 
You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 
All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 
A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 
“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”
As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 
So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 
Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 
“You good to go home with your friends?” 
Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 
“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 
“The fuck? On Halloween?” 
He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 
Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 
And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?
Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 
You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 
“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 
“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 
“K.”  
He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 
Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 
Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.
After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 
Maybe you should have left, too. 
Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.
But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 
Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?
Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 
You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..
Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t
Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 
This is it. 
This is why you stayed. 
Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 
Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll
And you will wait forever. 
However long it takes.
You [12:51am]: ok
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It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.
Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 
All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 
But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 
So unfair.
In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 
And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 
Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 
“Come here.” 
“You sure?” 
He hesitates. 
And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 
But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 
What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?
There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.
God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 
But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 
However. 
When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 
“Yoongi…?” 
With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 
Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 
Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 
As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.
And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.
“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”
His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 
“Is that what you want?”
Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”
“Me to suck you dry.”
You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 
His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”
That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.
You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 
“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 
“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”
“Good.” 
You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 
Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.
There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.
And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”
“Yoongi—”
Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 
Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”
“You taste so fucking good.” 
More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”
Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 
“Yoo—”
And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 
For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 
Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.
But you can tell something’s off.
He’s holding back.
Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?
If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.
So what’s with the sudden hesitation?
Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 
“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 
“Please what.” 
“I need you.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 
“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 
Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 
Were they always that loud?
“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 
Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 
Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 
“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 
“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”
“You don’t.”
Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 
Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.
And you’ll let him.
Consequences be damned. 
“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”
Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 
Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.
Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.
“Thought I was boring.”
Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Say sorry then.”
It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”
Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”
Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 
“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”
Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 
All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 
Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”
Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”
“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 
“This wouldn’t get old?” 
“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”
Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”
“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 
He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.
“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 
“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”
“Just make me forget it.”
He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 
And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 
You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.
If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.
But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,
“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 
“Wait, why—”
“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”
Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 
“Yoongi, what—” 
He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 
And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.
You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.
“Baby, you sure?”
“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 
“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 
Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 
“We don’t have to, doll.” 
And if you’re honest… 
The thrill of it is enticing.
“We can.” 
“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 
A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 
“Not telling.” 
Of course. “You suck.” 
Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 
Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 
Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 
And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”
“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 
“No, but—fuck.” 
Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 
“God, you’re so perfect.” 
Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 
“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 
Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 
“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 
Oh. 
You know why he’s holding you so hard. 
And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 
Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 
But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 
“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 
Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 
So you vow to make that reality. 
“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”
Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 
Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 
Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 
His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 
And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 
Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 
Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 
“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 
Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—
A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 
Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 
Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 
But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 
So fucking unfair. 
Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 
Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 
Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 
And you recognize both of them. 
“—like you said, right?” 
“I know, but…” 
It’s Tae. 
And Jimin. 
“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 
The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 
“You really think so?” 
There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 
Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!
When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  
What the fuck is he doing! 
This man is going to be the end of you. 
“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 
“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 
Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 
And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 
Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 
You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 
Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 
And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 
“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 
“Most of it was your idea.” 
“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 
Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 
“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 
“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 
A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 
“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 
“You just sat on it.” 
“I didn’t sit on that side.” 
Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  
“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 
“Yeah, you’re right.” 
Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 
Adrenaline still at its peak. 
“You’re gonna pay for that.” 
“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 
After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 
“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 
“Do you want to?” 
You pause. 
If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 
But if you stay… 
“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”
“Fuck no.” 
Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 
And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 
So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”
“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 
You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 
Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 
A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 
“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 
Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,
“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 
Holy fuck, what? 
“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“We don’t have—”
“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 
What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 
Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 
When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 
“Sure you didn’t.” 
He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 
Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 
“We don’t have to.” 
Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 
But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 
Fuck. 
Do you really go for it? 
You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 
…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 
“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 
His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 
“So fucking wet.” 
Fuck. 
“Gonna take this dick so well.” 
Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 
“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 
Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 
Well, you think he’s on the same page. 
Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 
Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 
“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 
You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 
You feel bad. 
And it feels fantastic. 
“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 
When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 
After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 
When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 
“Mmhmm.”
“Good girl.” 
As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 
Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 
Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—
“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.
“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”
Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 
Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.
“Show me up then.”
He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.
Oh, he’s a killer. 
And he’s all yours.
Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.
Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.
Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.
Which is the worst best thing to do. 
“Fuck, doll.”
With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.
“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 
And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 
You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 
“Breathe in for me.”
And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 
Fuck! 
Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 
“Again.”
When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 
“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,
“So good.” 
“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”
Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”
He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”
You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 
“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.
After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”
You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 
And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 
Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.
Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.
How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 
“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”
He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 
You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 
And definitely other people, too.
But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.
“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”
You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 
And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,
“Then come for me, doll.”
Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.
“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”
And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 
“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”
Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 
“Baby, I’m still—”
“Fuck—”
You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.
“D—”
You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”
“No, but—”
“Take it off.”
Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 
Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 
Because you want this. He’s earned this. 
Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 
This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 
When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 
Yoongi is fighting for his life. 
You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 
And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 
He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.
“Open that mouth.”
You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.
“Goddamn.”
You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.
It looks like he wants to say something. 
But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 
As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 
But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 
As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 
Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 
“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 
His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 
"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 
Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 
And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 
If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.
Even if they frightened you to death. 
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Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 
After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 
With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.
And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.
But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 
When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 
And you dissolve into mush yet again.
Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 
You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  
What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 
Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 
It’s definitely with Yoongi. 
Right now, you know your home is with him. 
Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 
You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 
Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒
Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 
And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 
Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 
He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.
And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.
Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)
Happy Halloween indeed. 
end :)
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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.
++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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ghostfacd · 6 months
Text
IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him
AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!
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tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously
user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god
user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways
user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better
➥ user4 well someone had to say it..
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You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
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tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
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tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
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ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
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tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
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ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
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tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
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