#(( and I need my souls... for something bigger you can ever give me )) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ja3yun · 10 months ago

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Undercover Lover | P.JS

detective!jay x detective fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), !!rough!!, choking, throat fucking, tit slapping, pure filth, , jay gets like super angry (but he's secretly a sweet soul), swearing, slight mention of alcohol, not proofread.

wc: 9k+

synopsis: you've been forced to work with your work rival, park jongseong, on a case that could bust one of the biggest dealer in seoul, but things don't go according to plan.

(part 2)

a/n: hi! it's me, just giving you a little something while you wait for the sunghoon fic <3 this was originally part of a bigger plot but i didn't finish writing it. Also, if you've ever seen Just Go With It, the dinner scene might be a little familiar since i based it very loosely on it. i hope you like it, it's a bit rough and isn't the best well written because you know i thrive on lovey dovey simp men, regardless, enjoy!

“I cannot believe I got stuck with you on the assignment”

“Feeling is fucking mutual, Park.”

When your boss told you’d be working with Park Jongseong you protested to the high heavens, and you downright refused when he told you that you would have to pretend to be his wife.

“Absolutely not.” you crossed your arms in a huff, not even sparing a glance at either of the men in the room.

Heeseung groans loudly, “Listen, don’t give me shit okay, I already had it from him,” He points to Jongseong who is leaning casually on the office door, as if barricading you from an easy escape, “You’re the only female on the squad that isn’t on a major assignment right now.”

“Why can’t he just do it himself?” You ask.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not buzzed about this either but Kim Kwangmin invited me and my ‘wife’ to a private dinner and overnight stay, and in case you haven’t noticed I haven’t got one of those.” Jongseong pushes himself from the wall as he speaks to you.

Jongseong is undercover to do a massive drug bust that won’t only take down one of the biggest suppliers and dealers in Seoul but also get your department a massive boost in funding and recognition. It was a big deal to your boss and the whole department. You just had to work with your biggest rival in the precinct.

“Just tell them your ‘wife’ is sick.” You claw to find any excuse not to do this. It wasn’t just pretending to be his wife but the scenario in which you have to; you can’t possibly sit in his company and pretend to be in love with him for a whole dinner.

“It’s either that or I'll suspend you,” Heeseung warns.

“Hee, you can’t do that! It’s unjust suspension.” You proclaim, standing up.

“Yeah, and I’ll file the paperwork,” Heeseung stands to mirror your challenging stance, “You will be Jongseong’s wife. End of story.”

So here you are in his hired car as he drives you to the hotel in the middle of nowhere. In a way, you understand why they basically forced you to do this, the payout would be phenomenal, but you still grudge it.

The drive up has been anything but pleasant. You and Jongseong can’t agree on anything, not even the radio station, so you’ve been in silence for 3 hours, only barking out judgments of his driving or telling him how awful the idea is.

Pulling up to the hotel you stare in awe, it’s a whole different level than you’re used to, the tall white building that looks more like a castle beats every Premier Inn or Motel 6 you’ve been forced to occupy. Despite not seeing the inside, you can already guess the marble detailing and artwork on the ceilings, like something out of a princess movie.

You’re too busy gawking to realise the car has come to a halt and Jongseong is stepping out of the car, the only thing that alerts you is the unnecessarily loud bang as he slams the door shut behind him.

Opening the passenger door, you walk around the car to meet him as he flips open the boot to take your suitcase out. Inside, you had everything you’d need for 2 nights: dinner dresses, heels, pyjamas, guns, and handcuffs - all the necessities for a weekend away with your ‘husband’.

Jongseong pulls out your case with one hand and examines it, looking at you quizzically. You don’t understand what he’s so puzzled about, it’s just a suitcase, “What?” you finally ask since he won’t give it to you.

“It’s fluorescent pink…with fucking daisies on it.” His eyes are ridiculing as he looks between you and the case.

“So what?” You nab it from his grip and wipe it down. A few years ago you had seen the suitcase in a shop window and instantly fell in love with it and had to have it, no matter the cost. Petunia has never left your side since, and being on this assignment wasn’t going to change that.

“You’re supposed to be my wife, not my daughter,” he snarks, pointing dramatically to the semi-childish suitcase, “We are going to meet with the most powerful drug lord in all of Seoul and you’re carrying around a Dora the Explorer bag.”

You take offence, of course, you would, how dare he compare Petunia to a children's cartoon backpack, “Don’t speak about her like that, she’s got feelings.”

Jongseong’s face deadpans as you stomp away. He quickly retrieves his own luggage and locks his car before chasing after you. Opposite to your luggage, his is a sleek, black metallic case, that matches his personality - cold and hard. Somehow, your suitcases said everything about each of you.

“You aren’t seriously upset are you?” He asks, pulling you back before you get to the main door, “Look, you can’t fucking blow this for me, okay? I’ve spent months on this case and if we aren’t on the same page, he’ll guess something is up.”

You want to slap him right now because his tone is so condescending, it’s infuriating, “Apologise.” You face him, eyes tough as they look into his pupils.

Jongseong groans and almost throws a tantrum. Grabbing your arm he takes you to the side, all too well aware how anyone could see you two bickering. He didn’t need this to be the reason he lost this assignment, “Fuck, look, I’m sorry for slagging off your suitcase, okay?”

But you don’t budge, eyebrows lifted expectantly. Your eyes point down to the pink case, “Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Petunia.”

“Petu-, what the fuck are you talking about, Y/N? I am not saying sorry to a fucking case.” He is going red in the face, frustration coursing through his veins. “Are you really going to be that childish right now?”

You stand your ground, waiting for him. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, hands on his waist once he comes to understand you are not going to let it up. He is going to have to apologise to an inanimate object if he wants to proceed with the weekend, “If I say sorry to…Petunia…will you please start cooperating with me?” As you nod, he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, “Okay, I am really sorry Petunia, I think you’re a lovely suitcase.”

Feeling accomplished, you grasp the handle of your case and smile, "She accepts." You walk away smugly, head held high, leaving him behind to head to the front doors again, this time with a spring in your step. When you return to the office, you will gladly inform the girls in admin about this.

As you and Jongseong walk into the building, it is exactly how you described it, classic and grand with a bustle of wealthy people. Suddenly, the jeans and blouse you’re wearing don’t fit right on your body.

Something touches your hand and you yank it away quickly, almost going into defence mode before you look down to see Jongseong’s hand stretched out beside you.

He looks down at his empty hand and back up to you, his face serious, “Take my hand,” He asks, bored of this conversation already.

“Ew, why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’, you’re my wife, remember?” Oh, yeah…you suppose the charade started as soon as you walked through the massive turnstile door. Sighing, he takes your hand again except this time he successfully intertwines his fingers with yours, the feeling of your hand in his is foreign and peculiar, he doesn’t think he’s ever held hands like this with someone despite being in his 20s, “You ready?”

With a quick nod, you both make your way to the reception desk. The woman behind the counter is physically flawless. The pinned-up hair and her faux mink lashes fanned across her eyes making her gaze sultry, and her plump lips were upturned into a generous smile.

You could tell Jongseong was a bit taken aback by her beauty because it took him a minute of staring before gathering his words, “Hi, we have a reservation, should be under Hwangs. I believe Mr. Kim Kwangmin arranged everything.”

As soon as he says the criminal’s name, the receptionist straightens her back, face whitening a little. She clearly knew of his nature and like most of the city, she did not want to mess him about. Usually in fancy establishments like this, they ask to see ID before checking people in, but not this time, the girl was too flustered to do anything other than nod and rearrange her desk. It’s lucky for you she didn’t ask for ID considering your undercover operations unit didn’t have time to muster up any fake passports due to the suddenness of the invitation.

Your aliases for this case are the Hwangs. Apparently, you’ve been married for a year, dating for 3, and dotingly in love with one another. Jongseong is new money, he inherited it from his late Uncle who passed away. Kim Kwangmin prayed on people who had more money than sense, enticing them to create fake companies where he could ship drugs from A to B. That’s why it’s been so hard to catch him because he’s never the name on the papers. But if Jongseong can get him to talk about it in detail, he’s got him behind bars.

The conversation of a wife came up randomly in conversation, Kwangmin is a family man who loves his wife and kids, and for Jongseong to gain his trust he spouted a load of bullshit about how he was in the world’s most perfect marriage with the love of his life. He doesn’t know why it worked, but he isn’t going to question it now.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hwang, you’ll be in the Ambassador Suite as per Mr. Kim’s written request. I’ll call someone to escort you and take your bags,” She points with her hand to the lift while two men come up to take your things, “If you make your way to the private elevator,”

Jongseong thanks her, bowing as he takes your hand again. All eyes are on you already but that isn’t surprising, it would be more bewildering if no one was watching you considering you’re the prestigious guest of a drug king.

You both get up to your Suite and it is unreal. The lift opens directly into the room and you’re met with nothing but luxury. Perhaps this assignment did come with some perks. Taking your shoes off, you whisper a little ‘wow’ as you look around, the clean cream carpets feel like you are stepping on a cloud, you almost don’t want to put on the complimentary slippers that are waiting for you, but you do anyway, trying to soak up as much of this experience as possible.

Jongseong walks straight ahead, not even soaking in the embellishments of the Suite. He wasn’t one for blissfully looking around, he had a job to do after all.

You do a quick tour of the place before you hear Jongseong groan, “For fuck sake.”

“Hmm?” You prance over to him, still in a dream-like state from all the luxury and elegance, “What is it?”

“Look,” He keeps staring in front of him as you join him to look at the bed. It looks so inviting, the rich Egyptian cotton throws and fluffy pillows make you want to jump on the bed. So you do.

You take a step back before launching yourself onto it, squealing out a soft ‘wee!’ as if you’re a kid shooting down a slide in the playpark. The way you’re acting is perfectly representative of your luggage but you don’t care, you’re far too busy doing snow angels on the soft duvet, “What’s the issue? This is perfect,” You roll around a few times to really soak it in.

“Just wondering if you’ve had a look around,” He twirls his finger in a circle, looking at you disappointedly.

“Yeah! There’s a bath, a bar, a lounge area bigger than my house,” You go on listing everything you saw.

“Mhmm, and was there another bed?” He asks.

You think, “No I didn’t see-”. Okay, you see the issue now. There was only one bed. With an annoyed scowl, he shook his head at the sheer obviousness of the situation, as if he was frustrated he even had to address it.

Sharing a bed was the last thing any of you wanted, so you had to come to an agreement, however, both of you seemed to be thinking the same thing. “You can take the couch.” You both say at the exact same time and it creates an eerie silence in the bedroom.

“This is my assignment, I get the bed.” He argues, walking around to grab you and throw you off, but you use your weight against him, playing dead.

“No! I was forced here, my job was being put on the line, so this is my bed.” While you protest, he’s climbing on the bed, pulling at you to get off, his hands gripping your wrist to heave you off, but you won’t go down without a fight. Kicking your legs, you try to boot him off you, but he’s strong and half of you is off the bed already, “Jongseong! Let go!”

“Stop being a baby and let me have the bed!” He fights back. The hold he has you in is representative of a bodyslam that wrestlers would do in the ring, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, “Come on, Y/N. Give it up.”

With a swift kick, you boot him in the balls, causing him to groan and roll over, body going limp. Panicked, you sit up and check him, “Shit, Jongseong, you good?” But he doesn’t say anything, instead clutching his goods, face screwed in pain. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean over him, checking his pulse. He might be dead, he hasn’t moved for a hot minute.

Jongseong breathes out, trying to dull the pain. You played dirty, he respected it, but his dick didn’t.

“Jongseong, hey, I didn’t mea-”

You don’t get to finish your apology because he’s suddenly got his hands on your shoulders and flipping you both around so now you’re the one on your back, his body weight keeping you down, “What the fuck was that?!”

Laughing you let out a pathetic ‘sorry’ but Jongseong isn’t amused. However, the snorts coming from your mouth sweeten his distaste for the situation a little. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shocked at the noises you’ve just made. Staring at each other, you both hit a fit of giggles. You haven’t snort-laughed in so long, not since a girl's night back at the beginning of the year.

Once the hilarity dies down, you look up at him still hovering over you, the heat from his body bringing a flush to your face that you hope you can pass off as a lack of oxygen from the giggling. However, when he meets your gaze, you notice the same blushed colour across his cheeks. You swear for a whole second he looks handsome, like he has a face you don’t want to punch for once.

This Jongseong right now shows an unexpected softness in his gaze which brings back memories of when you met him for the first time at the precinct. Back then, he was full of life, free of the responsibilities of the job. For a brief moment, it feels like you've caught a glimpse of a different, more approachable side of him.

Suddenly, his decoy phone he’s been using undercover rings loudly, startling you both off the bed and helping you regain your sense of judgment because the way you were starting to think about Jongseong as he lay on top of you was…It will never happen again.

“That is my bed. Period.” He says, swiping to answer the call on his phone.

Fixing yourself, you do your best to ignore what just happened, grabbing your case from the front door and unpacking it on your bed.

He walks back into the room and chucks his phone on the bedside table, “Kim wants us for dinner at 8pm sharp. Go get changed.” There he is, the usual mean and cold Park Jongseong. Any feelings you felt earlier are gone with the wind because this is who he truly is. He doesn’t even spare you another look before he leaves to get ready himself.

Just two nights, that’s all it is.

_______

8pm comes faster than you thought and as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss to your lips, you hear Jongseong complaining about how you will both be late. Instead of paying him any mind, you give yourself the once over in the bathroom mirror. Your makeup is smoky and sultry, and your hair is curled loosely since you didn't have the time to fight with bobby pins to put it in an updo. The dress you’re wearing is a little over the top but when you read the case file you noticed how Mr. Kim loved extravagant, and boy was this dress just that. The black body-con, dinner dress hugged you perfectly and accentuated all the right places, a bold slit travels up your thigh which reveals just enough skin with each stride, and the sweetheart cut paired with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves just add to the drama of it all. You looked like you stepped out of a James Bond movie, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.

“Can you please hurry up,” An impatient Jongseong bangs on the bathroom door.

“Relax, oh my god!” You place the lip gloss in your matching silk bag and walk out to greet your ‘husband’.

“About fucking time.” He mumbles, looking at his watch, “We need to…go.” His words trail off as he finally sets his eyes on you, “Woah.”

“I look good, huh? Can I pass for a millionaire’s wife?” You twirl, widening the slit to show more of your leg and Jongseong’s jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s so used to you in athleisure wear or jeans with your hair held together by a claw clip that’s missing two prongs, he didn’t think you could look so elegant, so beautiful.

Floating over to him, you place your two fingers under his jaw and close his mouth, “You’ll catch flies, baby.”

Embarrassed, Jongseong regains his senses and swats your hand away, “Shut up. Let’s go.” He pushes you slightly to the door as you chuckle over how flustered he is. It did make you feel a little bit sexier than you did before because if you can make Park Jongseong swoon, you’re definitely going to have the attention of Mr. Kim, and attention is all you need to gain a confession.

With your arm in his, Jongseong leads you to the dining room where you’re set to have dinner. He spent the elevator ride going over the plan. You had to act a little dumb, make him feel like he’s leading the conversation, and be all over your man. Of course, Jongseong would make his wife obsessed with him, he doesn’t get any action outside of this fantasy, well, that’s what you tell yourself. His personality is so repugnant that you can’t imagine anyone being with him. No matter how hot he is, especially in a suit.

His beauty in the tailor-made suit didn’t go unnoticed by you, he looked delicious, but he was still a prick, a prick that hated you.

The dining room is filled with upper-class cartels, all businessmen who would do anything to be on top. It makes you feel a little queasy, but you swallow it down and focus on your role. You state your business to the host and urgently, you’re shown to your table where Mr. and Mrs. Kim are already there. That’s a bad start, no one should ever be late for a meeting with Kim Kwangmin, and by late, that means he gets there before you.

"Mr. Kim, hello." Jongseong's stance is more poised than normal, but you can feel his nervousness. If he cracks this case, he will be the youngest detective to do anything of this magnitude, so you can appreciate what he is going through. In an attempt to reassure him, you swipe your thumb over his arm, which he only feels through his suit jacket. Nevertheless, he’s thankful for it.

Mr. Kim stands and reaches his hand out, “You’re late, Hwang.”

“Apologies, Sir-”

“That was my fault, Mr. Kim. I made him change a few times. Every suit he was trying on was giving last fall, and I said to him ‘Babe, only the best from Mr. Kim’, Isn’t that right, Jjongie?” You don’t know why you took on the persona of a teenage girl who has a tweet count of 20k, but it seemed to do the trick because Kim Kwangmin is laughing.

“The things we’ll do for our girls, eh?” Mr. Kim says and Jongseong awkwardly laughs with him, nodding. When he looks down at you, his expression is appreciative, “Please, have a seat. I’ve ordered some entrees.” The man extends his arm as he sits himself.

Jongseong bows and pulls out your chair for you and as you sit down, he kisses your cheek lightly, the act of service making your stomach flutter.

This is going to be a long night.

And it was. Jongseong is getting nowhere, every time he tries to hint towards Mr. Kim’s dealings, the man just brushes him off, too busy talking about the stock market and other men in suits kind of chats. To be honest, you zoned out about 20 minutes ago, your fork rolling a pea across your plate. You hate business talk, it’s so mind-numbingly dull. Who cares about all of this, really?

“Ah, Jongseong, looks like I’ve bored your little lady,” Mr. Kim points out and it brings you back to attention.

“Not at all, Sir, she just gets a little distracted, don’t you, Princess?” He tries to cover for you, eyes glaring at you.

You giggle and stroke Jongseong’s arm, “I don’t get business talk, I just like the money.” Your fake honesty earns you another laugh from Mr. Kim, he has taken a shine to you throughout the dinner which works in your favour and this is your chance to try and wiggle something out of him, “My baby, spoils me but sometimes he’s so stingy with money.” You pout and Mrs. Kim raises her glass to your statement, clearly understanding your faked pain.

“Tut, tut, Jongseong, we should always spoil our girls.” He reprimands your husband and you nod eagerly, playing your dumb role quite well. If being a detective doesn’t work out, maybe you should try acting.

Jongseong strokes your head and laughs, “I treat her well, that’s why she married me. But I suppose I could venture into bigger waters to make sure she’s well looked after.” Cringe. Jongseong hates to speak about you like you’re nothing but an object, a black hole for his fake money because that’s absolutely not who you are, you’re the complete opposite. You’re strong and brave, and super smart.

“Oh, Kwangie, let’s get them to do the love list?”

Damn, that irritating wife of his. Jongseong had brilliantly set the tone for her husband to explain his inner connections, and she simply had to change the subject to what must only be the dumbest idea you've ever heard. You're not even sure what a love list is, but you don't want to participate.

Despite your inner monologue protesting the very thought, Mr. Kim doesn’t share your displeasement, “What a great idea! I tell you, it makes your marriage stronger than ever.”

Mrs. Kim sees the confused look on both your faces, taking it as her opportunity to explain, “You look each other deep in the eyes, and whisper 3 things you love about one another. If you do it every day, you always see the good in them.” She looks proud as punch, clapping her hands lightly, “Go try it out!” She ushers you both together.

Even if this were a real marriage, why would anyone want to do this at all never mind in front of another couple they’ve just gotten to know?

Desperately searching for a way out from this awkward charade, you turn to your husband for the weekend, only to find him sporting the same perplexed expression. If you two can't pull this off seamlessly, it's a sure bet that Kim will catch on. Throughout the night, Jongseong and you have been playing the part of lovers to perfection, and if the facade crumbles because you can't conjure up one genuine thing you both appreciate about each other, the entire plan goes to shit.

“C’mon you two, this should be easy, what with how you look at one another. Reminds me of a young us.” He looks at his wife and rubs his nose with hers. It’s hard to believe he is one of the scariest men in Seoul.

Jongseong puts one arm over the back of your seat and tugs you closer to him, staring at you, “I guess we could give it a shot, yeah?” Was he serious? The man hasn’t said one nice thing about you ever, and now he’s going to pluck three things out of his ass? This won’t work.

“Y/N, you go first.”

Well, shit a brick and call it Mary. You are fucked.

Jongseong sees your worried expression and shakes his head as if telling you to keep it together. He leans into you, “Make up anything, even if it’s not real,”

Three pairs of eyes stare at you, awaiting your love confessions. What do you appreciate about Park Jongseong? “Um, I think he’s really handsome?” The statement pops out like a question which seems to displease the couple opposite you.

“No, Y/N, start it with ‘I love’ and tell him little things that make you fall in love with him,” Mrs. Kim instructs, giving you another chance.

You cannot fuck it up this time. So you look deep into his eyes and search into him for your history, past all the bickering and agitation. His face softens, knowing this is putting you in an uncomfortable position, and it gives you a line, “I love that he knows when people around him are left out, and he tries to include them in every conversation so they feel seen.”

Jongseong seems surprised by your answer, or more the sincerity of it. It was true though, you did appreciate that about him. One time, you were sitting as the only girl at the table having after work drinks, and not one of the guys included you in any of the banter, and when Jongseong noticed he pulled you into the conversation - albeit it was poking fun at you, but after that, the guys opened up around you.

Your eyes are still glued to his as you rhyme off another one, “I love that, when you’re not being uptight about things, your face loses its contours and you look so soft and squishy,” you laugh and pinch his cheek, “Like right now,” He hadn’t realised his hard shell had fallen as you spoke to him, making his appearance gentle.

Giggling as he shakes you off, demeanour now shy, you think of a final one. This has been a lot easier than you thought, and you think you could probably say more than three now that your brain was on a roll.

“And I love the way you push me to be the best version of myself, even when I think your criticism is sometimes harsh and uncalled for, you make me want to be a better de-, person. I love that the most.”

None of you let up eye contact as Mr. and Mrs. Kim applaud you, thankfully satisfied with your answers. Jongseong’s lips tug at the edges, giving you the first genuine smile of the night. He’s glad you managed to come up with things to keep the pair off your backs, but also because they were real things you liked about him.

“Hwang, your turn. Tell your girl how you feel.” Kim instructs almost like he’s a love coach and you’re his patients. But Jongseong seems to forget that his alias has a different second name because he ignores the man and just keeps looking at you. You swear at one point he does the triangle method but you can’t be too sure.

“Jjongie?” You utter, voice just above a whisper, “Your turn,”

“I love,” He pauses, licking his lips, “I love that you give inanimate objects names, and care about them like they’re real people,” You laugh, recalling your previous events with your beloved Petunia, “In fact, the way you take care of everyone around you, and how you will do anything for anyone, I love that. That’s my first one.”

He sits with the next one for a while, making you nervous, but you don’t have to be, “I love how you put me in my place whenever my ego gets a little big. You keep me grounded without knowing it.”

You smile and pout at the same time, finding his words infiltrating your heart a little. Jongseong takes your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles gently as he finishes his love list, “I love…that you are by far one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the privilege to be around, inside and out.”

Oh, he is good.

The eye contact you’re both still holding is sparking a fire inside you, the warm feeling in your tummy makes you feel electric, like you could do anything. You’re both so engrossed in one another that you don’t hear the Kims leave, whispering how they should leave ‘you love birds to it’.

You don’t know how long you sit there just looking at one another, but you think it must be about 10 minutes before you start to notice how quiet it is at your table. Breaking the contact first, you look around and see the man you’re after is gone, “Uh, Jongseong?”

“Yeah, baby?” He’s still deep in his character, still focused on your side profile.

“They’re gone.” You state, pointing your head to the empty table. This is bad.

Jongseong finally removes his gaze from you to the problem and his face falls. How the fuck did they just sneak out like that? You daren’t look at him because you can already feel the anger radiating from his body. His jaw clenches and he bangs the table loudly, “Fuck!”

Without a word, he stands up and storms out of the dining room and all the way up to your room, leaving you to waddle after him, not used to the heels you’re in. He is pissed, no he’s livid, seething at the fact his opportunity to get the dirt on the man he’s been after for 8 months just slipped away like water in a sieve. How could you both be so reckless? This never happens to him.

He swipes the key in the door and angrily strips himself of his shoes and jacket, not caring about anything other than how he can make this right. Before the door closes, you catch it, stepping into the room and following him quietly. You don’t know the best way to approach him.

“Jongseong, we still have tomorrow.”

“Like fuck we do, Y/N! This was the dinner to get in on his schemes, to finally get something on the guy I’ve been stuck kissing ass to for months!” He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs it harshly, “If you weren’t so fucking incompetent.”

“ME?! I didn’t do shit,” You argue back, offended. How can he blame this solely on you? As if he wasn’t the main part of this.

He spins and points to you, “You did plenty! Why didn’t you just make a load of shit up for that list and get it over and done with? I was doing great on this case before you turned up and ruined it.”

You don't want to fight with him, but you will since that is your true dynamic, not what you were like at the table, which was just a charade. This was the authentic you and Jongseong, “You’re acting like I did this all on my own but you were the one that brought up having a wife in the first place, you made me be here! And then you started making eyes at me when we were doing those stupid love lists, that’s on you, not me.”

Jongseong has veins popping all over his body, his frustration overtaking him like you haven’t seen before. You see him charging towards you before he grabs your shoulders with force, but not enough to hurt you. He shakes you a little, “You drive me fucking crazy, I can’t stand you.”

You raise your voice to match his, pushing him off you, “Fuck you, Park!”

“Fine.” Grabbing the back of your head he pulls you to him, smashing his lips against yours. The action is sudden so it sucks the breath out of you. Were you really kissing Park Jongseong? “You’re so fucking infuriating,” His words are venomous but it doesn’t stop him from gripping your hair and pulling your head back to kiss you deeper.

If you weren’t dizzy from the wine at dinner, you are now. This man is a psychopath, blowing hot and cold, and yet you’re kissing him back with just as much fervour as he is giving, your lips smushing with his.

When he feels you reciprocate, he waltzes you to the wall behind you, accidentally slanting a few frames on the wall. You've never experienced anything like the force he has over you, and you can't get enough of it.

“I’m gonna ruin you like you ruined my case.” He spits, pressing you flat against the wall with his body, the arousal evident.

Driven by a blend of rage and lust, your tongues collided furiously, resulting in a passionate kiss.

Your head is so scrambled that you can’t decide what you want, so you push him off you to give you time to think.

Standing about a meter apart, both of your chests rise and fall heavily as you pant, already gasping for air from the heated kiss. He looks dishevelled, hair a riot and your lipstick smothered over his mouth, it’s only adding to your attraction towards him.

Both of you stand, staring at one another, waiting for the next move. But who’s going to make it?

You could, on the one hand, end this right now and give yourselves a little breathing space. You've brought the emotions from the dinner with you, impairing both his and your judgement. If you leave right now, you can stop this and pretend nothing happened.

But on the other hand, if you move towards him and take him how you want to, it’ll change the dynamic of your relationship forever, and possibly not for the better but could it get any worse? The man just said he couldn’t stand you, what’s one night of throwing caution to the wind, of finally claiming what you desire?

Fuck it.

You practically run towards him, almost knocking him over when you jump on him, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down to your level, kissing him just like before, only this time you’re taking control. It’s the stupidest idea you’ll have this year but you couldn’t give two fucks, the taste of his mouth inebriating.

Wrapping one of your legs over his, you grind on his thigh, alleviating yourself of the ache that your clit has suddenly developed. It's calling out to him for sweet relief.

“I fucking hate you,” Jongseong says through gritted teeth, his bulge evident in his slacks.

“Fuck me like you do,” You breathe into his mouth. It’s an odd request, usually, the sex you have is filled with love, or at least tolerance, but this time it’s fuelled by pure lust, it’s intoxicating.

Heeding your consent, Jongseong grips your waist tightly and guides you to the bedroom, all the while his mouth is eating yours. The mix of both your spit in one another's mouths is messy and your teeth are hitting off his, you’re both on each other as if you’re on a time limit. Technically you are because one second too long and someone’s clear judgement will start to kick in and stop this.

Before you throw yourselves into bed, you both have a little issue called ‘clothes’ to take care of first. The gown was nice but he had to see what was hiding underneath.

Reaching for the zip of the dress, he tries to pull it down but it doesn’t budge and he’s too impatient for this right now, longing for your body. After a few tugs it doesn’t budge and he growls, annoyed at this hurdle of inconvenience. He looks down, inspecting the dress to see if he can just pull it over you but he sees a better, more efficient idea.

His hands grip the fabric of your dress at the slit, fingers digging into the material and each side and with a sudden, forceful tug, the threads snap as your beautiful, very expensive gown is torn in half. He uses every muscle in his arms to rip it off you, he’s never been more thankful for hitting the weights 4 days a week.

“Jongseong!” You gasp, annoyed that he’s just ruined your clothes but he doesn’t care, not when you’re standing before him with nothing but your black thong, tits out, and the garter for your gun. He isn’t saying he’s imagined this scenario before, but you’re more gorgeous than he could have ever pictured.

Throwing the torn dress across the room, he makes way for your mouth again, only this time his hands are massaging your boobs roughly. You can feel the grit on his hands, a testament to the hard work of your job, but the scratchiness of his fingertips only makes you weak at the knees, the sensation of him all over your tits was magical.

For a little revenge, and because you can’t wait any longer, you rip open his white linen shirt, buttons consequently popping and flying across the room. He’s kissing you so forcefully you don’t even get to bask in how his tanned skin contrasts the paleness of his shirt, or how his torso is perfectly lean, not too ripped.

You rub your hands all over him as if trying to memorise every muscle and tense abs. The feeling of your hands dancing over him has Jongseong snarling softly as your mouths continue to meld together, “Such a pain in my ass, L/N.”

It’s an invitation to slide your hands down to his ass and squeeze his cheeks and at the same time push his cock onto your core. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his nails digging into you, scraping harshly. You’ll definitely have marks in the morning.

With a determined shove, he propelled you onto the bed, a sense of urgency driving his actions. Jongseong needed you. Now.

Just like your dress, your flimsy thong is torn from your body, the burn of the material being ripped along your skin only heightens your pleasure. You’re laid spread on the bed, waiting for his next move, but when he doesn’t budge, too busy drinking in the sight of you, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Situating yourself on your knees, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his boxers, freeing his hardened cock of the confinements. The mixture of the natural breeze from the room and your hot breath makes him twitch in anticipation, “You want to suck my cock?” You’re so infatuated with his shaft and the veins running along it that you don’t register the mocking tone of his voice which normally you would snap at.

Jongseong grips your jaw so tight your mouth automatically opens. He tilts your head up so you both look at each other, eyes hazed with desire, “Fucking take it, then.”

With that, he’s shoving his length into your mouth, pushing you down until he feels the resistance of your throat. He’s not a monster, he isn’t just going to start abusing your mouth, but he does shallowly thrust his dick a few times, testing the waters. Fueled with rage or not, he’s not going to hurt you.

You on the other hand, swirl your tongue around his shaft as you bob your head up and down, loving the feeling of him filling your mouth. Personally, you don’t mind it rough, and by the look on Jongseong’s face, he’s holding back a little. It’s oddly sweet considering he looked like he could have murdered you 10 minutes ago.

Placing both your hands on his hips, you sink your closed throat around the tip of his cock, pulling him in as deep as he can go.

Jongseong’s hands clenched into fists and grabbed your hair, his knuckles turned white from the intensity of the sensation. He tries to push deeper into your throat, meeting your gag reflex with a groan.

You push his hips out before pulling him back in harshly, giving him a hint of what you want. Fortunately, Jongseong has always been a fast learner, “You want me to fuck your throat, hmm?” You hum around him which elicits a wicked smirk on his face, “Good.”

Rapidly, his hips move on their own, his cock now fucking your mouth and throat raw. It burns in the best possible way, the taste of his pre-cum sliding onto the back of your tongue each time he pulls back makes you moan.

“You look so much prettier when your mouth is stuffed with my cock,” He comments, noting how much he loved the way you looked with your eyes watering and puffed out. You look like a dream, a dream he hopes he never wakes up from.

He holds your head still will both his hands, ass clenched as he fucks into you, mind completely lost in the feeling of your mouth.

Jongseong loves to be in control, not dominant, but his partners definitely know their place, and it’s to be putty in his hands.

What he doesn’t notice is how he actually isn’t in charge, you’re just making him think he is. It was you that decided whether this happened or not, it was you who got him to fuck your throat dry, and it’s you that’s going to make him cum.

Sucking harder, you’re trying to coax him to cum all down your throat, to help soothe the pain, but he won’t let that happen. Yanking at your hair, he pulls you off and you gasp for air, not realising you are losing oxygen.

He almost unnoticeably checks to see if you’re okay, gazing softly into your eyes, but once he sees you smiling, he goes right back to his ways, pushing you down onto the bed and crawling over you.

The way he's confined you beneath him causes your body to arch up to meet him and draw his entire weight onto you; his bare cock accidentally scrapes against your clit, causing your hips to buck up to gain friction.

“So fucking desperate for me. I haven’t even made sure you can take me yet,” He teases, his hips moving slowly to slide his cock between your folds, gathering your slick as natural lube. You’re so wet you don’t even need any help, his cock could slide right in.

“I can take it,” You match his arrogance, not completely sure of the certainty in your words because he’s big, but it’s all to do with his length rather than girth, so you think you can handle it. Plus, you won't ever back down from a challenge set by your work foe.

His face looks a little dubious too, like he doesn’t believe you. You’ll just have to prove it to him.

You smoothly flipped him over on the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. As he landed beneath you, you held him in place, the thrill of the unexpected move adding an extra spark to the moment. It’s a carbon copy of how he pushed you onto the bed before dinner, just with way less clothes.

Not wasting any time you pump his cock a few times and spit on it, mixing the fluids of your saliva and his cum to help him ease into you.

“Fuck, you sure you can handle-” Jongseong’s words stop in place when his cock breaches your entrance as you start to sink onto him, “Holy shit,” He whispers, eyes shut tight as he feels the way you’re hugging his cock, the heat of you travelling to him. You feel sensational.

You start with shallow bounces, not taking his whole length into you just yet, but even just the 3 out of 6 inches you are experiencing are driving you wild.

Jongseong wants nothing more than to bottom out and claim you right here and now but there’s something so satisfying about seeing you struggle to hold your weight up as you ride him. He could have some fun with this.

His hands rub your thighs, one of which moves closer to your cunt. You're too preoccupied to notice, so when his thumb circles your clit, you lose your balance and collapse onto him, all of his cock buried inside you now. The sudden stretch was glorious like you don’t understand why you didn’t just sit all the way on his dick in the first place.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Too full of my cock to keep going?” He comments on your still body. Truthfully, you were just basking in the way his cock is stuffing you while his thumb keeps up the rhythm on your clit, you really didn’t have to move. But he’s taunting you to keep going and you can’t let him get away with it, he’ll never let you live it down if you just sit there. He’d call you selfish or a lone player, whatever else he’s called you at work.

So you start to move, grinding random shapes that would hilt his tip into all the perfect places inside your heat.

Like putty in his hands. He smirks, his tongue swipes his bottom lip as he watches you work for it.

Your hands try to grasp anything that will aid you, but all you have is your hair, which isn't ideal but threading your fingers and pulling at the hairs on your scalp reminds you of how he had an iron grip on you when he first kissed you.

Jongseong has to admire you right now because you’re taking your pleasure into your own hands, he’s basically doing nothing and he thinks you might be close to cumming. The competitive side of him knows what to do because he will be damned if he isn’t pounding you, making you scream his name as you cum.

He fucks up into you, taking over and making you lose the pace you had set. You would complain if he wasn’t hammering into you so good. The moans leaving your mouth are frenzied, calling out for more, which he’ll happily give you, just not in this position.

Cradling your back he sits up and throws you so he’s on top, your head now hanging off the end of the bed, the instant blood rush turns your brain to mush, and all the while he doesn’t stop thrusting into you, each time he moves, it hits a new spot you didn’t know you had. He’s fucking you so good, you’ll never get enough.

Jongseong dislikes the fact that he can't see your face, so he yanks you back onto the bed by your legs, causing him to dig deeper into your pussy. Once your fucked out face comes back into view, he smirks because you’re completely gone, eyes shut as you feel every inch of him.

“Told you I would ruin you, didn’t I?” He grits out, slapping your left tit, causing you to yelp back into the world, your eyes now watering at the sting.

“Not ruined me enough,” You bite back, egging him on to go rougher.

He tilts his head in disbelief as he keeps battering your pussy with his cock, the audacity you have to say that when you couldn’t even speak a minute ago. Roughly, grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, his forehead against yours as his eyes burn deep into yours, “Say that again.”

Every fibre of your body tells you not to speak another word, but you never listened to yourself anyway, “You couldn’t ruin me as bad as you ruined your case.”

“Fuck you.” He grips your throat keeping your head up and kisses you roughly, his tongue sweeping all along your mouth. Jongseong can only see red because it was you who made him forget about the assignment because it was your eyes he was getting lost in. This was your fault and no one else.

Harshly, he pins you back to the bed by your neck, not squeezing too harshly, but just enough to restrict your breath flow. He saw how much you loved the head rush earlier, so he took that as a sign you would like to be choked while he fucks you.

He was right.

“You know what? I’m going to make my own list,” He breathes out, “My hate list.”

You’re a little confused but you’re too drunk on his cock to understand even the simplest of sentences.

Jongseong begins to snap his hips into you with each sentence, “I hate that you think you’re better than me,” His grip squeezes your throat, “I hate when you suck up to the boss’ ass and stick me in shit when it’s convenient for you.”

You let out a whimper at his brute force, “Jongseong…please,” You try to fuck onto him more, the single thrusts not giving you what you want quick enough, but that only earns you another squeeze of your jugular.

“And I hate that I love how good you’re pussy feels,” Your ears prick up at the twisted compliment, a sense of accomplishment coming over you, “You drive me batshit crazy, and I fucking love it.”

He withdraws his hand from your throat and trails it back down to your bud, now focusing all his efforts on helping you finish.

“I hate that you can’t just admit you like me,” You breathe out, voice hoarse.

For a split second, he stops all his movements, but he refuses to acknowledge what you just said because it’s not true. He doesn’t like you, not one bit…

This was treading into dangerous territory and Jongseong knew it, so he had to end this fast. With one smooth movement, he hoists your back up to arch it and pounds himself deep into you, his balls slapping against your ass due to his relentless pace. He was showing you no mercy, he was showing you how much he hated your guts.

“I’m cumming, Jjongie,” You whine out.

He notices the nickname and, while he won't admit it, he likes it. Only when you say it, or rather how you say it, especially now that you're clenching down on him and cumming over his cock. The way your pussy clamps him causes him to blast his load deep into you, his previously tactical thrusts now hilted so he can fill you up.

Shared pants echo the room as you both sit in the consequences of your actions.

You just fucked Park Jongseong - and you liked it. The mix of anger and desire just added a new level to sex you didn’t think possible.

Abruptly, he gets off you, and his cock slips out of you leaving you feeling a little empty, “I’ll take the couch,” he says, face hard with seriousness. He was just going to leave you like this? Weren’t you going to talk about what just happened?

“Oh…okay.” You say deflated.

Jongseong notices and turns his head to you, his back still in clear view, but he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he sighs and picks up his case, retreating to the living area of the hotel suite.

You feel a little tacky, not just physically but mentally. You weren’t expecting love and kisses after the sex, but a little ��That was good’ or even ‘Are you okay?’ would have been enough.

Attempting to push aside the lingering thoughts, you slip off of the bed and head to the shower, determined to rid your body and mind of all traces of his presence. As you retrieve your pyjamas and walk by him, you inadvertently overlook the gloomy expression on his face, like he wants to do more but he already complicated your relationship enough when he kissed and then fucked you, in his mind, it was best just to forget about it.

_____

The next morning you awake with the brightness of the day shining on your face. Your body is sore from the way Jongseong handled you last night. If it was any other circumstance, you would probably be smiling, reliving the best fuck you’ve had for years, but you’re not smiling. You can’t, not after he left you so coldly.

A buzzing from your phone diverts your attention into the real world. You read his name at the top of your phone and you begin to read the plethora of messages from this morning

Park Jongseong

5:12am:

Gone to see if I can arrange lunch with him.

Wear something nice.

5:32am:

Meet us at 11am in the dining room.

7:23am:

I’m sorry for last night.

I was a prick.

You ignore the apology and look at the time, it’s currently just past 10am which means you better get your ass in gear and get ready.

It’s time to be Jongseong’s devoted wife.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jay x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x smut #aj writes #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

best years * fem!driver

growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: this was so hard to write for no reason

(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)

2013

she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.

around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.

she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.

sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.

so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.

she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.

beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.

“okay, gather up, please!”

she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.

“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”

“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”

her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”

“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”

“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.

she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.

looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.

blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.

then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.

2014

“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”

“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”

“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”

his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”

“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”

his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.

“hey, piss off, will you?”

“whatever, dude.”

her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”

she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”

he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”

“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”

“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”

she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”

“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.

“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”

“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”

she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”

“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”

the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”

“thank you, i like making boys cry.”

“i never said you made me cry.”

“you may as well have.”

“maybe next race if you can do it again.”

“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.

logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”

and the rest is history, as they say.

2015

"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."

"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."

"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."

a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.

"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"

"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.

"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"

dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"

he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"

"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."

"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"

"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."

she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."

oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."

he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"

the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.

"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"

oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."

2016

"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.

immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"

she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.

"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."

"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"

"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."

she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."

logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."

she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."

she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."

2017

"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"

she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."

"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"

"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."

oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"

she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"

oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."

"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."

"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.

"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."

"you're a guy."

"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"

"i'd understand if you did."

"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."

his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.

"you alright, babe?"

she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.

as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.

"yeah, i'm fine."

"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."

this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.

"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."

"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."

"i'll even take oscar with me."

"no... oscar's mad at me."

"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."

"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."

"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."

oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.

she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.

she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."

"hey, what the hell!"

2018

she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"

"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."

"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."

"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."

she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."

"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"

"he's got a girlfriend."

"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."

"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.

"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"

"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."

"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."

"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."

2019

the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."

"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."

oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."

she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.

how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?

"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."

"not better than you, though," she jokes.

he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."

"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."

oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.

if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.

"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."

"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."

"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."

"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."

"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."

2020

"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"

"what did you say?"

"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"

her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.

she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"

"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"

"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"

"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"

she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.

oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."

"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"

2021

"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."

"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."

"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"

"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"

"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."

she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."

he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."

2022

"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"

logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.

"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.

"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.

"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."

oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."

they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.

her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."

and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology

#oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x you #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #f1 fem!driver #female driver #formula 1 female driver #formula 1 fem!driver #formula 1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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14thcommander · 4 months ago

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all mine || hange zoe x reader

cw: smut, +18 only! pussy eating, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, softdom!hange. (1k words, not beta read and written on my phone. beware.)

author’s note: don’t ask, this just left my body like i was exorcised. hope you enjoy it ;)

The soft moan that leaves your lips ignites something in Hange’s heart. Something sick, greedy and powerful.

Lust.

You are half naked on top of them, only in a frilly skirt that pools around your waist, bare pussy exposed to your lover. They look up at you through dark eyelashes, thick oval glasses discarded a long time ago.

Hange’s hands find home on the soft fat of your thighs, fingers buried in your inviting skin. Your knees are pressed to the mattress, on each side of their legs.

“Look so pretty like this.” Hange mutters, mouth pressed against your nipple, tongue gently teasing you. “So needy.”

The tone in their voice isn’t mocking or playful: it drips with honeyed want, lust clear in their words. Hange wants to mark your skin and soul with their love.

A couple of digits finds your sensitive pearl of pleasure, moving in circles against your clit — not enough pressure to properly get you off, which makes you whine.

“Need more, Han, please.”

“I know what you need.” Hange says, with a firm tone in their voice. “But I won’t give it to you now. You gotta wait.”

The whine that leaves your lips isn’t intended, making you sound like even more of a brat. In a swift move, Hange turns your body around, as your back hits the soft mattress underneath you. With them on top of you now, you know you are playing a dangerous game.

“Maybe I should tie you up.” They suggest, fingers still moving against your needy pussy. “Put a vibrator inside this greedy cunt and leave you here for a few hours.”

You moan something that sounds like no and please at the same time.

“Well, then you’ll just have to behave for me. Think you can do that?”

You nod, bottom lip caught in between your teeth.

Hange removes your skirt, then. The fact that they are still dressed just adds to the imbalanced power they have over you, which they gladly take — they don’t steal this power, however: it’s something that you willingly offer to them. An offering to your God, your body and soul.

They like to explore you, play with you. Hange’s moves are calculated, precise. Fingers moving against your cunt, avoiding your clit, spreading your lips apart. It leaves you even more exposed, making you drip against their fingertips, wetness splattered on your things and on the mattress.

“What a pretty cunt you have, baby. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. Could play with it all day…” they whisper, more to themself than to you.

Hange licks their teeth before lowering themself, a fiery look in their eyes. Their tongue, warm and wet, slides against the skin of your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses and lightly grazing their teeth on your skin, Hange looks up at you, briefly. They are met with the exact description of heaven: your head is thrown back in pleasure, body marked with love bites, gleaming with sweat and spit.

Truly, a goddess.

When Hange’s mouth finally finds your needy clit, you whine – a broken sound, desperate. They smile into your pussy, messily making out with it. The taste of your juices almost makes Hange’s tongue ache with the need to drink you whole. The sounds you make get louder, more sinful by the second.

A couple of digits play with your entrance, fingertips barely entering your cunt, just enough to tease you – mess with your sanity even more.

“Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you are, princess. Look so good, so pretty… and just for me.” The last words are whispered, almost as if it is a secret between the two of you. A passion so fiery and possessive on Hange’s tone, it makes your body warmer.

Properly fucking you this time, fingers curling inside you – added to their mouth back on your clit, circling it at the right speed – the bubble of warmth on your lower stomach grows even bigger, threatening to explode at any given moment.

“Han, fuck, please, ohmygod”

It’s incoherent, what leaves your mouth – a babbling that almost sounds like words, begging for Hange to let you come. Their movements grow harder, faster, just the way you like it. Soon, your body convulses in pleasure, as the earth stutters on its axis. The pleasure overtakes you, traveling through your entire body. Your hands find your lover’s hair, a movement caught in between shoving them away and pulling them closer.

“Came.” You moan, as they don’t cease the movements. “Already came, Han, please-”

They smile up at you, canines glaring at you in a wolfish way. You are their lamb, that much you are aware of – a prey, in love with what overpowers you.

“Oh baby, you were begging to come just now… what happened?” The faux sympathy in their tone somehow turns you on even more. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head.

“Gotta use your words, princess.” They say, removing your mouth – it isn’t a matter of teasing but consent. Hange would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

“Don’t wanna stop, Han, please keep going.”

This time, Hange lays by your side, one of your legs wrapped around their waist, pussy exposed for their hands to work. Their fingers fuck you deliciously, at just the right speed and pressure. Something inside you is hot, growing. Your eyes roll into your skull, as you pant. You look desperate – pathetic.

“Yeah baby, doing so good. Looking so pretty and taking what I give you, fuck.”

There’s a light pink tint on Hange’s face, a darker look on their warm brown eyes. Their forehead glues to yours, pressed against you. They want to swallow you whole, want your bodies to become just one – you are already one single soul.

“That’s it, princess. Getting close?”

You moan, whine, groan. Your heart feels like it’s going to explode, and also does something in your belly.

“Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, angel.”

And you do – strongly, your body shakes once more, legs trembling shortly before going limp. You drench Hange with your liquids, as it squirts from you. Your lover moans, a husky laugh escaping their lips. They press their lips to your forehead, a silent reassurance that you should not feel ashamed by your body's natural reaction.

“Did so good. So fucking good.” They whisper, removing your leg from around them. “Let’s rest now.”

With your head against their chest, you close your eyes and smile. There isn’t anything better in the world than belonging to Hange Zoe.

#hange zoe x you #hange zoe smut #hange smut #hange zoe x reader #hange fanfic #hange x reader

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headspace-hotel · 2 years ago

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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"

and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?

That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."

And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?

We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.

Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.

Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!

I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.

I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!

I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.

There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.

A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?

I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.

You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.

Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"

We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.

As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"

#nature #community #plants #gardening #you are not separate from every other thing #the wonders #caretaking #plantarchy

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greg-montgomery · 1 year ago

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hey fay! I hope you're having a beautiful mornin

I am here to request like SWOONING hotch, touchstarved, red-cheeked, brain shortcircuited hotch, who is left a puddle by reader's lingering touches at the office.

I feel like if y/n was the type to just grab him by the hand when they need to show him something, the type to cradle the back of his head with their hand whenever they pull him in for their signature hugs, the type to casually doze off on HIS SHOULDER 😳🚨 he would simply be putty in their hands, he's just enamoured every time they open their mouth and say HIS NAME? HIS? and if they gave him his very own nickname like not even aaron not hotch but a personal nickname because THEY think about HIM enough to think he needs his own special word (personally I imagine they call him beam and he never knows why - but its bc when he smiles, like really smiles that gorgeous face thats nothing but smile lines and dimples ear-to-ear, he's beaming, he's a beamer, its just what he does. I. dont make the rules).

basically i would love to just read about lovely little hotch to get butterflies and blush and be enamoured by somebody, and of course reader is clueless bc they think thats just how he is but NO when they touch him he feels sparks and he'll follow them like a magnet, its this force they have on him, he's just a willing participant in any aspect of their life they're willing to let him see.

i would totally get if this was not your vibe or not something you want to write/elaborate on but GOD i need more swooning hotch in my life

bestie i'm embarassing late to this 😭 you're just so sweet - if you read this pls tell me you saw it lmfao <3 ily

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Aaron!”

Hearing the sound of his first name coming from your lips made him pause for a second. Impatient from watching him standing there frozen, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the direction you wanted his attention at.

“Come on, look at this. I found his son’s drawings. This could give us some insight of what their relationship looks like,” you explained, but Aaron was unable to pay any attention to your words, as your hand was still holding his.

“Beam, are you listening to me?”

Here goes that nickname again, he thought. He would sell his soul to find out what that nickname meant. He had asked you about it before, but your only response was a sneaky smile. A smile he would do anything for.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was distracted.”

“That’s okay,” you answered, softly. “I know our last case was tough and we jumped into the next one without having a chance to recover first.”

Aaron was grateful you assumed that the cause of his distraction was the last case and not your beautiful face, and even though you weren’t necessarily correct, his heart still melted at your comforting words.

“Yeah,” he simply said, and nodded.

“Well, you can always talk to me if you want. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

You wrapped up the case quickly so you flied back home that same night. Everyone on the jet was already asleep, except for the two of you.

Aaron was lucky enough to have been chosen as the one you sat next to, and his heart hadn’t calmed down for a second.

He felt embarrassed by the feeling of butterflies in his stomach just because his crush sat next to him, but he was glad his heart could still feel those emotions.

“Can I?” you sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

As he turned to look at you, he saw you pointing at his shoulder; you were asking for permission to fall asleep on him. As if he’d ever say no to you.

“Of course you can,” he said, almost breathless.

“Thank you, beamy,” you grinned as you let your head fall on his shoulder, and it was impossible for him not to smile too.

His smile grew bigger when you turned your head slightly to look up at him.

“That’s why you’re my beam,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Everyone says you never smile, but I see you smile all the time. And when you do you’re just beaming. You light up the whole room, no joke.”

“Stop,” he laughed, unable to keep his cheeks from blushing.

“It’s true!”

“You’re usually the reason why,” he admitted.

His words got you shy, he could tell, but you wrapped your arm around him and snuggled closer in the crook of his neck. “That’s the biggest compliment I’ve ever been given,” you mumbled against his neck.

Aaron breathed out a laugh, and it was his turn to wrap his arms around you, making sure there was not even an inch of space between your bodies.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch 🪐#ask

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hunnylagoon · 9 months ago

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The Killing Moon

PT1: Camp Spirit

Ellie Williams x Reader

Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.

Premise: You are a camp counsellor who comes back year after year to be at peace in the one place you love the most. Though there is something different in the air, could it be love or maybe an ancient evil you’ve mistakenly awakened?

Warnings: slight mentions of violence / mentions of monsters and cryptids / raunchy humour / spooky?

The Killing Moon Playlist

PART TWO: The Colour Wars

Week One of Summer Camp

Camp Honey Hills is what you could call 'off the radar'. It sat way up past the hills and forests of Oregon, relatively untouched by the urban nightmare of the city. It stayed peaceful and undisturbed as leaves shed from trees and snow covered every inch of ground, but the camp was alive for one season of the year. Even in the quietness of preparing for the campers to arrive you could still hear counsellors laughing with one another and that's how you could tell the camp was waking up from its ten-month slumber.

"Anyone in the White Tail Deer Cabin, over here!" I held my hand up and waved to the kids piling out of the buses, carrying duffle bags bigger than themselves. The first day of camp was always the most stressful, the only thing to get you through was the idea that it would be over soon and we could get to the fun part of summer.

I already had a handful of girls crowding around me, all of them were either ten or eleven; depending on how you look at it, I either got blessed or cursed that I was assigned to a cabin of older girls. While the younger ones were wild and untamable, the older ones tended to be snarky and standoffish, these girls we’re leaning toward wild.

"Hi," I look up from my clipboard to see a scrawny girl, she has long black hair in two French braids, a summer camp staple. "My thing says that Ellie is my counsellor and I don't know who that is."

"All good," I bend down to her height, "It's that pretty girl over there," I point at Ellie, she's talking to one of the girls in her cabin, and her dark eyebrows are furrowed at what I can only assume to be an absurd question. "You're in the Grizzly Cabin, looks like I'll be seeing a lot of you."

The girl doesn't answer me with words, from the way she's looking at me you'd think I just told her that I sat on her hamster. She gives me one last side glance before she struts off and lugs her duffle bag behind her. "That weird girl said I was in your cabin," I hear ever so faintly in the distance, Ellie bites back a laugh.

I shake off the not-so-subtle cruelty of a pre-teen and go back to yelling for all of the girls in my cabin. So far I had seven of the eight campers I was supposed to have, I was in the lead and if I collected all of the girls in my cabin first, that would be more points towards the camp cup. You should know that I take the camp cup very seriously, it really isn't anything more than a trophy that Tommy and Joel give to a cabin but I haven't lost it in the past five years that I've worked here.

"Is your name Tamar?" I point at a stubby ginger girl, "You look like your name is Tamar," I was on the hunt for the eighth girl in my cabin so I could win the arrival day points.

"Uh, no," She said, looking as muddled as scrambled eggs "My name is Marcy."

"Then get out of here, Marcy," I look past her and nod at a girl with skin the colour of ebony wood "Are you Tamar?" This girl looks around to double-check that I'm talking to her before she shakes her head no.

"Who's my counsellor then?" Marcy who stands at a maximum of what looks to be a mighty 4'3 is peering into my soul with her icy blue eyes and I almost shudder, all I could think is that someone needed to get this four-foot-nothing girl some contact lenses.

"Your counsellor and cabin should be on the slip of paper that administration gave you."

"I lost my paper."

"Um," I glance around at the other counsellors, collecting their campers. My eyes settle on Abby, she's wearing a Camp Honey Hills T-shirt. She looks like she's got everything more put together and organized than any other counsellor so I decided to dump this kid on her. "It's that blonde girl with the big muscles, you better hurry because she'll crush you if you aren't there in time."

Marcy looks at Abby and then back to me with wide eyes at my words before she scurries away. As I watch her roll up to Abby's group, I quickly realize that there is no way she is in that cabin. Abby got the oldest group, consisting of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds and I was sure that Marcy, with all of her missing teeth, was no older than nine. I avert my eyes to avoid any wrath.

I spot Jesse who is trying to wrangle up his boys who are already rough housing and throwing each other in the dirt. Somehow he always ends up with the returning campers or the savage ones who would surely put my head on a stick before taking a shower.

"Is this the White Tail Deer Cabin?" A girl with pale skin and brown hair stares me down, she's tall for her age and lanky.

"Are you Tamar?"

"Yeah," She says it like she's annoyed.

"Perfect," I smile, turning to my group "Alright girls, that's everyone," I turn to look in Tommy's direction "I said that's everyone," I enunciate louder to be sure he can hear me, each of my campers gives one another a snide glance.

Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line and answers me with a thumbs-up. He already knew I would be the first to get my group together, I always was. He and Joel are the camp directors, they were talking about something before I called their attention.

Marcy points at me and Abby looks in my direction, her eyebrows knit together. Great, now I was being snitched on my nine-year-old. Abby calls out my name but I'm already ushering my girls towards the cabins "Who wants to see the cabin?"

In just moments, I'm long gone and walking the trail to the girl's cabins. Breathing one last moment of peace, the earthy bitterness in the air, droplets of last night's rain slipping off leaves. It made me want to savour every moment in the forest I had before summer ended and I had to go back to stuffy dorms and lectures along with people as boring as the city itself. I've never been able to fathom why anyone would dream of the city, of the drug users and creepy men roaming the streets. Concrete everything and headaches from blue light, every day that I was away at college I dreamed of coming back here, I counted down the days I could turn my phone off and disappear from the world for a while.

The boys may have had a shorter walk to their bunkhouse but the girls definitely got the better view. It also didn't hurt that the circle of cabins was right beside the pasture so we woke up to watch horse grazing, unless you don't like horses, then you can just ignore them I guess.

"Okay, ladies," I open the door to our cabin, a little carving of a doe above the doorframe. "This is our cabin, go ahead and claim your bunks, I don't care who goes where, just don't fight about it and no one set up on my bed."

"How do we know which one is yours?" One of the girls, Leslie, asks.

"Because it's the only one that's set up," I say, bluntly and I see the realization hit her like it was a math equation that finally clicked in her head "You guys can unpack and I'll go over the cabin constitution in a minute."

As my campers piled into the cabin, ravenously fighting over who got which bed, I saw Ellie walking up with her girls. Our cabins were right next to each other, we shared a little porch that Maria decorates with plants while Ellie and I neglect them until they're wilted and we try to save them so we don't get yelled at. Alternatively, dump the responsibility of nurturing plants on one of your campers, kids love to water stuff and feel important.

Ellie's campers begin to walk up the porch and into the cabin, one of her girls runs up to me "I wanna be in your cabin again," Lana pouts, I had her last year and I can't say that I have a least favourite camper but if I could, it would definitely be Lana. "Ellen is so mean."

"Well, maybe she would be nicer if you said her name right." I look up to see Ellie who mouths a 'Thank you' "Call her Ellie and maybe you two can be nice to each other."

Lana looks between the two of us before wordlessly walking into the cabin in trail of the other girls. "It's shaping up to be an interesting summer."

"We've survived worse," I cross my arms "Do you remember Tucker? That kid Jesse had who managed to tie a piece of dental floss around a wasp and carry it around with him all day like a balloon."

"He was a little weird but he was chill," Ellie jokes, like every other counsellor, she's wearing the Honey Hills T-Shirt and Demin shorts, her auburn hair pulled back into a half up half down style "How about that girl in Dina's cabin who wrote Reid letters pretending to be Priya?"

I laugh "I can't believe it went on so long."

"I can, Reid's a fucking idiot." She says "He pronounces chutney like chut-uh-ney."

"Oh my god, I hate that so much," I was obviously dragging on this conversation, hunting for reasons to talk to her "And the way he says Ibiza and Cuba and like everything."

"Do you remember when he joined the women supporting women club in high school?"

"Please don't remind me, that was awful," I chuckle "The worst part is that he ran that shit like the navy."

"Are you coming inside?" Chloe pokes her head out the door.

"I guess so," I answer "Uh, I'll see you at the campfire," I tell Ellie before stepping into my cabin and seeing pure chaos. The four bunkbeds that were pristinely set up just hours ago were now clad in each girl's personal bedding, ranging from Chloe's neat colour scheme of light blue and white to Kim's mismatched quilts, fuzzy pillows, and bright orange sleeping bag. They were still working on getting everything set up, specifically getting the fitted sheets onto the twin-sized waterproof mattress. Some of the girls were even beginning to tape up photos of their friends and family from back home. "Wow, looks great girls."

"Can we go to dinner yet?" Leslie asked, her twin braids hanging over her pink hoodie.

"No, it is three o'clock but we will go over the cabin constitution." A couple of the girls let out groans of disapproval "First you always listen to me, do as I say not as I do. Respect others and their belongings, please don't hurt anyone or yourself. Maintain personal hygiene and do not go anywhere without telling someone where. Also, we have shower schedules, showers are absolutely mandatory, and no one will talk their way out of it. On Friday's we have tuck shop, and everyone gets a twenty dollar allowance for that, no you do not actually touch the money it's part of the camp package, I take your orders and come back with candy. We have campfires every night, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are mandatory to attend even if you don't eat which I strongly encourage you do."

"Do we have to go if we're sick?" Tamar asked me.

"No."

"But you just said it was mandatory."

"It's mandatory if you aren't sick."

"But you said-

"Stop," I clasp my hands together "I know I'm older than you guys but I promise you can tell me and ask me anything." I smile, looking around "Any other questions?"

"Can we swear?" Valentina asks, she's kicking her feet off her bed on the top bunk. Her skin is the colour of copper and she has a little dusting of freckles over her button nose.

"I don't really care just don't do it around other adults and don't tell them that I told you that."

"What's the wifi?" Morgan was typing something on her phone which was by far more expensive than the model I owned. Dina had Morgan in previous years and I wasn't too thrilled to be in charge of the (as she claimed) disrespectful blonde monster sent from hell to ruin her life.

"We don't have wifi, we hardly have service," I tell her "And you aren't even supposed to have your phone here but you can't do anything on it anyways so it doesn't matter."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Leah chimes in, she's sitting on the ground with Oliver and slowly but surely braiding her friend's hair.

"Not at the moment, no."

"So are you a lesbian?" Olive follows up for her friend.

"Um," I press my lips together, my mind failing me, "I think we're good on questions, who wants a camp tour?" No one says or does anything, they just kind of look around awkwardly "That's too bad, you're getting one."

Everyone gathered around the crackling fire pit on splintered wooden benches. The warm glow of the campfire flickered in the midst of a cool summer night, casting dancing shadows on the faces of worn-out campers who were ready for bed.

Tommy had given his speech to sike up the kids for the rest of the summer, he made sleeping in the woods sound like a lot of fun. "We're giving you tonight to settle in but I promise that starting tomorrow we are hitting the ground running, activities from morning until dark, this will be a summer to remember," He smiles brightly "I don't wanna babble too long so I'm gonna give the attention to Miles who is going to kick off our campfire by playing the guitar for us."

Miles sat directly across from me in the first row of benches so I could only see him through the orange flames of the fire. "This is an original song I wrote, so far it's untitled but I'm open to ideas," He made himself comfortable with the guitar, readjusting it to sit in his lap properly.

"What do you wanna bet it's about?" Ellie whispers into my ear from beside me. Since the day cooled into the night, she's thrown on a gray hoodie to keep herself warm. You would be an idiot to ignore how pretty she looks illuminated by nothing more than stray stars in the sky and a campfire.

"I'll put five bucks on sex,"

"Sex?" She raises her eyebrows "I don't think he's stupid enough to sing a song about sex in front of kids, I'm gonna say it's about being a tortured artist."

"It could easily be both," I look down and see Ellie's muddied converse "We break even if he does both." The fire roared before us like our own miniature hell.

Miles clears his throat and lets his curly blonde locks fall over his forehead. Beginning to strum, he made that weird face he makes every time he plays guitar, where he scrunched his eyebrows together "Baby, maybe, I just wanna do you, do you, do you wanna do me? do me underneath the moonlight," He's too lost in his song to see the horror on every counsellor's face "Baby, baby, maybe I will steal you, steal you, just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that would heal you."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop me from cackling. The older kids were on the verge of laughing themselves while the younger kids seemed utterly confused. "Holy shit," I mutter so quietly that my words got blown away with the wind.

Ellie didn't try to stop her laughter, just hide it, she buried her head into the crook of my neck so no one could see how red her face was. She was far better off than Dina who was laughing so hard that she was clutching her stomach and nearly falling over, Miles seemed to be oblivious to all of this. In Dina’s defence, it was difficult not to laugh at a song so wildly inappropriate and bad in general.

Miles had far from the best voice, he just sounded like every other white guy who sang Wonderwall at a girl, not to her but at her "Sticky thighs are you wild now or just a memory? I heard your broken cries and looked into your eyes under the moonlight, so do you wanna do me, do me, so I can heal you, heal you, from the inside-

He stops abruptly when Joel takes the guitar away from him "How about Sawyer tells us the camp legend instead."

Those who knew who Sawyer was looked towards him, Miles was trying helplessly to get his guitar back from Joel who was holding it just slightly out of reach. "It's been a while since I've told this so forgive me if-

"No one cares, just tell it," Ashlynn said. She was one of the counsellors who clearly didn't want to be there, which meant all of the campers thought her to be the coolest; in all fairness, she was cool. Ashlynn had bleach blonde shaggy hair, so light that it almost looked white. Her eyeliner was always a little smudged and she was only there to keep the kids alive, she tended to be the first to opt out of group activities and go to bed early.

"Okay well, it starts way back in the sixteen-hundreds, on these very grounds there was a small village," Sawyer put on his best storytelling voice which was just him lowering his voice an octave. "They lived in peace for decades, and throughout all of those decades there was a woman named Abigail who never seemed to age, while all of her friends and family developed wrinkles, their hair turned gray, and their bodies sagged, Abigail still looked nineteen even at her alleged age of sixty-seven."

The new campers seemed enraptured but returning kids and counsellors seemed bored out of their minds, I even spotted one boy who's been attending this camp longer than I have, mouthing the words of Sawyers tale.

"They accused her of witchcraft and she was shortly exiled far up the hill into what we now call the Honey House. They left her with nothing more than a hunting knife, a canteen of water, the clothes on her back, and a small portion of seeds. The villages burned down her home in town along with everything inside it. If you think that is the end-

"Think again!" Dina cut in, getting up from her spot and squeezing herself beside Sawyer. "With Abigail gone the villagers thought they would be safe but just days after Abigail was exiled, anomalies began to appear-

Sawyer chimed back in "At first they were harmless, pixies, gnomes, jackalopes, nyiads by the rivers and dryads in the trees. The creatures appearing slowly began to appear more and more dangerous and at last, the snatchers arrived-

"Like a muscular and tall emaciated human. The most terrifying creatures to ever be seen, they roamed just outside of the village and lured children in, they slurped the flesh right off of the children's bodies like prey and wore the clothes of their last victim. They have no lips just a bloody gash and when they don't eat, the gash begins to reseal, leaving nothing on their gray faces but large and pale sunken eyes the size of my fist!" Dina clenched her hand into a fist and held it up for everyone to see.

"Their fingers are long and rotted, long curls of claws on each of their ten spindly fingers. The males are devoid of all hair and the females hardly have hair at all, just small plugs of greasy and matted strands. Their teeth are sharper than fangs and are rotten black and yellow, a foul odour escaping each time they open their disgusting gashes of a mouth. Though the snatchers were the most feared among villagers, they were also being terrorized by other creatures, such as pine devils who slithered from the forests at night and attacked families. There was ghouls who would take on the form of the last corpse they devoured and of course, the wampus which was half-man and half-cat, would stalk villagers.”

"Like a furry?" One of the boys from Jesse's cabin peeped.

"No," Sawyer exasperated "Like a scary and intimidating cat-man."

"So does it look more like the Cat in the Hat or like Cats the Musical?"

"It doesn't look like either, it's a terrifying man that is covered in fur and looks like a cat but is also a man."

"So Cats the Musical?"

Dina ignored the comment and continued with the story "After a year the village population had been cut in half and everyone thought it to be the witch, they figured that Abigail had cursed them for exiling her so they lit up their torches at sunset and marched up the hill to the Honey House. Abigail pleaded with them and explained that she hadn't cursed them but during her residency in the village she had warded off each evil spirit and creature with her witchcraft but she no longer could protect the village after they burned her home down and all her supplies inside of it."

After muttering to Jesse to get his cabin in order, Sawyer picked up when Dina left off "The villagers begged for her forgiveness and apologised for their cruel acts in the hope that Abigail would rid them of the monsters, Abigail said she would but in return they grant her return to the village, so the townfolk agree-

"With all her supplies to ward off the creatures gone, Abigail resorts to a blood ritual. She tells the townfolk that they must complete the ritual before sundown. She creates five pentagrams made of sticks and twine. Abigail races around the village to place the pentagrams and avoid the creatures while she does so, the villagers ward the monsters away from her with their torches. At each pentagram, Abigail slices her palm open and squeezes her fist to drip blood onto each one, then she ignites the pentagram with a torch and utters an incantation. She slashes her thighs and calves to get enough blood and in a last-ditch effort, she cuts her wrists open to finalize the ritual," Only the younger kids had been paying any attention to the story, they seemed downright terrified, clinging to one another but trying to play it cool.

"I fail to see how this is any less inappropriate than Miles's song," Cat mutters with one girl huddled into her, her arm slung over the little girl and rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Once she had completed the ritual, Abigail said that no creatures should return to the village. She is bleeding out in the middle of the town square but the town doctor only watches her, and refuses to help so she begs the appointed mayor to bury her beside her mother, he answers by saying 'The graveyard is sacred and we will not let it be tainted by filthy witch blood' in her final breath she plunged for the mayor and drags her bloody palms down his face, cursing him. Once she is no longer breathing her body begins to rapidly age into the appearance of the sixty-eight-year-old woman she was supposed to be. The townsfolk cut Abigail's body into five parts, two legs, two arms, and the torso with the head still attached and buried her on the border of the village."

Everyone sat in silence "Is that the end?" someone asked, though they were in the back row of benches and I couldn't see who it was.

"Yup," I answer "Abigail gets renamed as 'the girl that time forgot' in folklore and she never gets revenge on the townsfolk for betraying her after she laid down her life for them." I had never liked the legend. Young boys thought it was cool and gory and fifteen-year-old girls thought it was poetic and tragic but I hated it to death. Other camps have fun light-hearted legends about playful forest spirits or secret villages of fairies deep in the woods but we got an edgy story about a woman who just wanted to be loved.

"I wish she let the snatchers eat them all," Ellie said the same thing that she says every year, she wasn't wrong, that's how I wished it ended too.

"Just wait until one eats you," I joke.

"Nah, I'd kick it's ass."

"I'm sure you would but right now you owe be five bucks.”

"No, we didn't pick this legend, it's true," I heard Jesse's voice cutting through the conversations of the crowd.

"Bullshit," Mordecai said, he was one of those kids who thought it was cool and edgy to be an asshole and act older than he was. He despised summer camp but every summer his parents forced him back much to our dismay.

"It's not," Bowie jumped in "The snatchers come back to visit us sometimes."

"Yeah? I thought Abigail banished them with blood magic."

"The spell is growing weaker with time, it's slowly wearing out and there hasn't been a witch to revive it," Jesse was a good storyteller, he should've been the one to deliver the camp legend. He found a way to enrapture people with his words.

That's when I decided to call it a night for my girls, the longer you stayed at the campfire, the more outlandish stories the guys would tell and I learned my lesson last year that it is very easy to give ten-year-olds nightmares. "Whitetail deer, we're heading out," I stand up.

A few of the girls had groans and complaints while others seemed happy to leave. Ellie looked up at me from where I stood and did the same "Grizzlies, we're leaving too,"

"You're just saying that because you wanna hit it, Williams," Dean said between obviously fake coughs into his fist, causing Ashlynn to bite back a smile and Miles to playfully punch him on the arm.

"Dean," Tommy gave him a stern look and said nothing else, Dean took the hint and ceased his laughter.

"Headcount," I say looking at the girls in front of me "Chloe, Leslie, Kim, Leah, Tamar, Morgan, Valentina, and Olive." Each of them stands in a close-huddled bundle "Alright, don't go off trail."

The walk back from the campfire was gorgeous during the day and borderline mortifying at night. Since the foliage was so thick you could hardly see the sky if you looked up and at night the little piece of clearing that was the trail was pitch black, we were guided by nothing more than mine and Ellie's flashlights.

The two of us had been trailing behind the girls in silence to keep an eye on everyone until Ellie felt the urge to speak up "Uh, by the way, that thing that Dean said about-

"I don't care."

"You don't?"

"Yeah he's a dick and his cabin looks like a wooden prison cell."

"It does," She furrows her eyebrows in thought "It’s like he's conditioning his campers for war."

I didn't notice when I did this, it must've been a subconscious thing but I mindlessly reached for Ellie's hand to hold. I used my free hand to keep the flashlight focused on the trail and campers ahead of us. "Sawyer has to walk back to the bunkhouses across the camp with those little monsters."

"Payback for all of the pranks he's pulled with Bowie," Ellie mutters. Sawyer took pride in initiating the prank wars every single summer the same way I strove to win the camp cup. His pranks weren't also lighthearted and fun, he and Bowie organized this prank where Sawyer put a bag over Tyson's head and dragged him to the administration office in the middle of the night and then pretended to shoot Bowie dead in front of him. Tyson quit the next morning and Sawyer got a hefty write-up.

"So are you still talking to Cat?" I ask.

"Nah, that was never gonna work out."

"Because she's too hot for you?” I joke.

"What? No," She whipped her head to look at me "Why? You wanna get with her or something, you have my blessing."

"I'm good, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Who with?" Her voice dripped with accusation. Ellie's hand clenching just the slightest bit tighter on mine.

"Work? You should know that I don't date at camp, to think that I thought you knew me," I tease her.

"What about that summer with Chandler?"

"That doesn't count," My smile drops and I fight the urge to shiver at the memories. Before I was a counsellor at Honey Hills, I was a camper and I happened to have my first kiss at age thirteen with a boy named Chandler, our braces got stuck together.

"Everyone saw, so it counts," I can't quite make out Ellie's face in the dark but I can hear the smile in her voice "Remember how Joel had to pull out the pliers."

"You need to stop before I sacrifice you to the Honey Hills Snatchers," I look ahead on the trail and I could've sworn my heart stopped "Stop!" I yell and all of the girls look back at me, I drop Ellie's hand "Where is Olive?"

All of the campers look at each other for answers, and then Leah opens her mouth "She saw a rock that was shaped like a heart and when off trail to get it."

"Well I'm not seeing a heart-shaped rock or Olive but it's super safe in these woods so no need to panic."

"No one's panicking," One of the girls in Ellie's cabin says, she was the same one who called me weird during arrival.

I run one hand down my face in exasperation, using the other to keep the flashlight trained on the girls "Everyone, stay here with Ellie, I'm going to be right back," I look at Leah "How far back did she go off trail?"

She shrugs "How am I supposed to know? I don't have a tape measure."

"Sweet," I answer before marching straight into the pitch-black woods. It was almost scarier to be in the dark with a flashlight instead of no light source, it felt like I had been in a video game or horror movie and I was about to get my throat slashed by a maniac in a mask.

Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs made me feel uneasy. I knew the woods were safe like I had told the girls but that didn't stop irrational fear from bringing up stories of cryptids and cuts from murder podcasts. If you ever played that shitty Slenderman game, you'd know exactly what I'm looking at; not Slenderman himself, just an eery forest.

I called out for Olive, my imagination running wild with thoughts of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. The forest seemed to come alive around me, its inhabitants whispering secrets that only the night could hear.

"Olive?" My voice echoes into the night, I did what I could to ignore whatever fear I was feeling. I had walked through these woods a million times, I knew every pathway better than I knew the city. This forest was like home to me, it didn't feel right to be so on edge.

I couldn't help but jump when something loud snapped beneath my sneaker, instinctively I brought my flashlight down to look at it, moving my foot out of the way. It had been a pentagram made out of sticks, wow really funny, it might've scared me if Ashlynn and Bowie hadn't made dozens of them and laid them around camp last summer to scare the shit out of kids. It had broken in half beneath my weight.

There was a possibility that I was going crazy in the five minutes I was alone in the woods because I thought I heard a rustle but the beam of my flashlight revealed nothing but the dense thicket of trees and the inky blackness beyond.

Something charged behind me, wrapping its skinny arms around my torse and I couldn't help but flinch. "Olive," I turned my head and brought the flashlight to shine down on her "Don't run off in the dark ever again, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm really sorry, I won't do it again," She said. I tried to pry her off me but she was hanging on like a Koala, eventually, I got her to settle for just holding my hand. "It was stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, you're ginger and that's punishment enough," I was hastily yanking her along so we could get back on the trail and shortly back into the comfort of the cabin "Did you get your rock at least?"

"Yeah," She held her palm out, the rock was an oval with the littlest indent in the middle, but I let her act like it was shaped like a heart.

"How'd you get so far out?"

"I grabbed the rock and then I saw a cat and I followed it."

Cat? "You must've seen Buckley, he's friendly," I tell her. Buckley was the resident dog at camp, he was probably older than me and wandered around before settling at Tommy and Maria's cabin for the night.

A moment after I dragged the little girl along we broke past the tree line and into the clearing of the trail. I looked around and spotted Ellie and the girls a good 40 yards or so behind. Clutching Olive's tiny hand in mine I walked towards them, flicking my flashlight on and off to catch their attention.

"Finally wrangled her," I let out an almost nervous laugh.

"You said not to go off trail," Tamar wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, Tamar, I know."

I don't know how late into the night it was when I was awoken by every girl in my cabin squabbling with one another. I got up and turned on the flashlight that I kept on my dingy bedside table "What's going on girls?"

"The snatcher is coming to get us!" Leslie cried, and I mean cried. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes were so glassy that they reflected any and all light, hot tears streaming down her round face.

That's when my annoyance turned to concern. Oh god, I was going to kick Sawyer and Dina's asses tomorrow morning and Joel for even suggesting the camp legend even though it made my campers too afraid to sleep year after year. "No, snatchers aren't real, they were made up in the sixteen hundreds to keep kids away from the forest."

"We heard it!" Morgan chimed in.

"Guys it's just the placebo effect, you've convinced yourself that it's real-

I froze when I heard a long scratch down the door and a wet guttural growl. It was low and deep, shaking me to my very core. Whoever was on the other side began to scratch harshly on the door, jiggling the locked door handle. When the handle didn't budge it began to slam itself on the door, each thump louder than the last. It was still groaning and grumbling in a harsh, awful voice.

The girls screamed, Olive and Leah, were hugging each other tightly, clenching their eyes shut. Valentina had a bottom bunk and slipped beneath the bed, covering her eyes with her hands. Leslie (like I had mentioned) was a blubbering mess, crying and hyperventilating too hard to get any words out. It looked like Morgan was trying to call someone on her phone and Tamar had her knees tucked to her chest, hugging herself. Both Kim and Chloe threw their blankets over top of them, pretending to disappear.

The voice sounded again except this time I realized it wasn't just a growl, it was a word "Girrrrllllls." Then it began to scratch the door all over again. When I tell you this voice was the most unsettling thing I've ever heard, I mean it. It was wet and phlegmy whilst being course and grumbly. From the very beginning, I had known it was a prank.

I marched towards the door flicking on the light in the cabin on and dropping my flashlight, before hammering my fists on the door "Fuck off!" I kicked the door, the sound stopped for just a moment before it slammed itself against the door.

Each thud against the sturdy wooden door reverberated through the night like a thunderclap. Whoever was sent to scare us was sure doing a good job. Their breathing was low and heavy almost as loud as the banging of the door itself. "Don't open the door," Leslie heaved out between sobs.

The girls huddled together in terror, their breaths hitching in fear as they strained to discern the source of the horrifying sounds "Girrllllllssss," It grumbled again "GIRRRLLSSSSCOMMOUT," I could see the door moving with the force of whoever was deeply committed to this role. The growling slowly morphed into a screech or maybe it was something more like a hiss.

I was almost at my breaking point, the first day of camp and I already had to deal with these bullshit pranks. I decided to slam my body against the door, matching whoever was on the other side "Go back to your cabin, you piece of shit!" I kept banging my fist and slamming my palms against the door until I heard them scuttle away.

Reaching for a baseball out of Valentina's open duffle bag, I swung the door open and saw the slender figure of what I assumed to be a teenage boy running to the pasture "Tell Sawyer to eat shit!" I yelled before throwing the ball at the figure, it hit them but it didn't do much, they just stumbled for a split second before disappearing into darkness.

"What the fuck is that noise?" Dina shouted from her cabin, I could tell I had woken her up from a nice sleep from the way her puffy eyes were squinting in my direction. A few girls poked their heads outside from the doorframe behind Dina.

"What happened?" Now Priya was walking towards my porch. Her long black hair was braided perfectly and she had her silk sleepmask pulled onto her forehead. She still looked put together in a hoodie and bunny pyjama pants.

"Can you guys shut the fuck up?" Ellie opened her door and looked me up and down.

"Be quiet!" Abby shouted from an open window in her cabin. By this point, I was sure everyone in the girl's bunk houses was wide awake and I would be getting a stern talking to by either, Tommy, Joel, or Maria, honestly, I didn't know which was worse.

Confusion quickly grew on Ellie's face, she lowered her voice "What's going on?"

All eyes were on me for answers but I didn't have any. Despite convincing myself it was a prank, that didn't stop my hands from shaking. "It was one of the boys playing a prank, don't worry about it, he's long gone by now."

"Fucking Sawyer," Dina murmured walking back into her cabin and slamming the door behind her.

"Are you girls okay in there?" Priya asked, looking at the mortified girls in my cabin, concern etched across her bronze face. "It was a dumb joke, you're all okay now."

Priya had invited herself into my cabin to offer her solace to the probably traumatized little girls, while she was doing so, I pressed myself flat against the front of the cabin, between mine and Ellie's doors, trying to process how I was going to find a way to make these girls unafraid.

"They do that prank every year and it's almost crazy how it's literally never been funny," I tell Ellie while I stare straight ahead at the pasture they faded away into.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Ellie stands next to me, leaning against the wall "We'll get them back tenfold."

"Those girls are all gonna wanna call their parents and I'm so fucked," I drag my hands down my face. I didn't want to see the look on Joel's face when I tell him about this. There's gonna be sixteen parents who will spam call the camp and verbally harass me over the phone, this wasn't my first rodeo. Sure the prank was shitty but I guarantee no one is leaving this summer with newfound trauma to tell their therapist in a decade.

"Relax, he's just gonna chew out the boys for pulling this shit again."

I looked at her for a moment, the silence hung between us like birds on a wire before I lunged in for a hug. She was a little taken aback but didn't seem to mind "I just need a hug, don't make it weird."

"Okay, wasn't planning on it," She teased. I took a deep breath in and caught the scent of firewood, petrichor, and axe body spray, an Ellie classic.

“I'm really glad I have you as a friend," I mutter into her shoulder, so quietly that I wasn't even sure she heard me. I let us stay like that for longer than I probably should've before breaking away "Okay, I gotta be a grown-up and deal with this instead of letting Priya do recon."

She nodded pressing her lips together in the same awkward way the socially inept guys from high school did "See you for breakfast?"

"For sure," I smile and walk back into my cabin to see Priya sitting next to Chloe with one soothing hand rubbing her back. "Thanks, Priya, I'll take it from here, you outta get back to your girls."

Priya had this maternal way about her, I wasn't sure what it was but she sure had the ability to nurture. She started at camp last year and I was happy to see her return. She gave her farewells to all of the girls who had only met her minutes ago and were already attached.

"Can I be in her cabin?" Kim asked, she had finally calmed down.

"No, you're in my cabin where we have fun like this every night!" I forced a smile on my face trying to get the girls back into a good mood.

"This isn't fun at all," Tamar, said, bluntly may I add.

"Yeah, this sucks," Morgan added on.

"Guys, listen," I began "I'm super sorry this happened, I need all of you to know that it's just a really bad prank, it happens every year to different cabins. Boy being boys- sorry I shouldn't say that because you guys are young and I know their gender shouldn't excuse their bad behaviour but what I'm trying to say is guys are assholes."

"Yeah, they're assholes!" Olive repeated.

"Maybe don't shout that," I pointed at her "But they are and if you want I will storm down to their cabins right now and yell at them until they cry."

The cabin began to erupt in shouts of no, little girls with wide eyes, frantically shaking their heads. "Please don't leave us alone," Leah pleaded.

"Okay, I won't, I'll yell at them in the morning. Do you guys want me to leave the lights on?" Everyone answered with a 'yes' to my question.

"Where are you going?" Valentina asked me, peeking out from beneath her thick layers of blankets.

"To my bed?”

"That's too far away from us."

I let out a deep breath "Alright, I'll just bring my sleeping bag onto the floor and I will sleep in the middle, okay?" Nothing better than sleeping on the hardwood floor in the middle of four bunkbeds and eight ten-year-old girls.

Surrounded by the shallow breathing of girls far too startled to sleep, I decided that tomorrow I would wake up dressed in adventure, straddling a star. Every day that follows I will guide these girls to the moon and back.

A/N: Hi y’all, I’ve been gone a hot minute because of medical issues and whenever I have time to write, I’m too tired to. Anyways, we’re back and better. I know I should probably finish my other series but I’ve had this one drafted for a while and since I’m super sick and basically confined to my house for the next week I’m hoping to get this series done. Thanks for reading!

@readbydayana

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oddvanilla · 7 months ago

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Dhar Mann might've been secretly a "villain" the whole time....

Pt.1 (?)

No, you're not hallucinating. You saw that title correctly. Believe it or not, I have had ridiculous beef for years with the man who many love, and even adore, Dhar Mann. And therefore, I'll be elaborating today on why such a "good person" like him is considered one of my sworn enemies, and why I think you should consider him one too.

Many people, and especially parents, assume that Dhar Mann is a great influence on kids, and a friendly individual. And although for the most part; that can be true, but you need to look at the bigger picture.

"The Dhar Mann Effect" is what I like to call it. A serious, and contagious virus that even the most experienced and hard-working doctors can't find the cure to. "What does the Dhar Mann effect do?" ...You may be asking. Well, great question! The Dhar Mann effect is when you form an addiction and obsession to watching the supposedly "short films" made by no other than Dhar Mann himself. And I'm not talking about a little, silly obsession. I'm talking about serious addictions that can lead into binge watching video after video non-stop. Such things should be taken far way solemnly.

And the prime example is my younger sister. Among many of my Dhar Mann-obsessed friends, I'd say she's the worst case. It started out around 2 years ago, when their substitute teacher played a Dhar Mann video at class (since many students have requested it), and ever since, she got hooked. I knew then that there was no coming back, she reached the "no-return" point.

I'd go as far as saying that it's like drugs to her. She can't survive a day without watching at least 3 videos in one sitting. And yes, that includes re-watching or re-visiting older videos. Trust me, it's deeper than just a "So you see...". My sister can qualify as an iPad kid, now, if I had to say so. And even currently, as I'm writing this, I can hear Jay's voice, One of Dhar Mann's most popular actors— playing from her room. I feel like it's not the same, and those damages may be irreversible. My poor sister can't live her life to the fullest anymore. All she does is wait for the new Dhar Mann video. And while she waits for the next one, she just rewatches his old videos, making sure she knows all the lore.

This is not a "haha" joke, people. This is dead serious. No joke. I'm not crossing my fingers. I'm not what nowadays kids call "capping 🧢". I'm being genuine and I'm typing this with the straightest face ever.

Another issue I have with Dhar Mann is how threatening he appears to me. I can promise you that if you look long enough into his smile, you'll realise it's slightly unsettling. Did you notice his face almost always looks the same in every picture? Well, you're probably not trippin'. That's because he has that same smile in literally every picture I could find of him.

What are the chances he might be a robot? Ready for the day we all fall for his spell and none of us are safe anymore, so he can finally strike? There is something so terrifying about him. Every time I look at that smile, I can't help but shiver a bit of fear. But mostly, I'm quite intimidated by his disturbing behaviour. The way he never fails to stare dead into our souls. That's what I find strange.

But hold up, the theories don't stop... at least not yet! Did you notice the way Dhar Mann ends every single one of his videos with "Hey Dhar Mann fam!" ??? What are the chances that he refers to us as his fam (family) to hide the fact we're probably stuck in his basement? If we're talking lore-wise, I'd say the reason Dhar Mann calls us his fam is the following: We're all chilling at our homes, until one day... A Dhar Mann video comes to our recommendations. By watching the media, you're secretly agreeing to sign an invisible contract that gives ol' Dhar the ability to adopt you. Child or not. And just because you're now part of his fam, doesn't mean he can't trap you into the basement and lock you up with multiple of many victims. The only time he'll ever check on you is when he comes in the basement and greets you with "Hey Dhar Mann Fam!" While feeding you those meaningless videos.

I'll show you a couple of examples, and YOU tell me what these videos could possibly teach kids who barely know what photosynthesis is.

Now, be real, just for a moment, WHY IS THE SECOND VIDEO A GODDAMN SERIES????? ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT ITS A CASUAL THING THAT THE PROTAGONIST EXPERIENCES ON SIMPLE OCCASIONS TO GET JUMPED???

I think another weird part is that Dhar Mann featured another EXTREMELY popular YouTuber named "Mr. Beast" many, many times, but even then— he feels this need to pull out knock off Mr. Beast...ahem ahem....Mr. "feast"...??????

No joke. Just search up "Dhar Mann Mr. Feast" and count how many videos come up. But if you're so lazy to check, it's 4. yea. 4 DAMN VIDEOS ABOUT A MR BEAST RIP OFF. YOU GUYS NEED TO WAKE UP AND REALISE THIS IS A MAN WITH A WIFE AND 2 KIDS.

And back to square one, What's the moral meaning behind this media he displays for the youth?

Not Dhar Mann (a multi millionaire) copying the "NO CHICK-FIL-A SAUCE?" girl???? Smh...

So... Do you think Dhar Mann is really the innocent "moral philosopher" he claims himself as? Or is it deeper than a "Hey Dhar Mann Fam"?. But either way, that's it for today. Thank you all for listening to my Ted Talk.

SORRY GUYS IM HIGH ON VITAMIN GUMMIES (AGAIN) AND LIKE I DO THINK DHAR MANN IS MY SWORN ENEMY BUT LIKE YALL BETTER NOT TAKE THIS /SRS LMAOOOO🙏🙏🙏

#dhar mann #philosophy #theory #guys i actually cant do these serious tags #THIS IS FAR TOO FUNNY #AHAHGAHA #😭🙏

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legend-the-dumb-jock · 8 months ago

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This is semi for me but mostly for my boyfriend. I'm already a decently big hairy bear (6'3 260 lbs) but I have a small size 11 feet. My boyfriend really really loves feet and I was hoping you help me give him a good anniversary gift by making mine bigger. I don't care how big. I just want him happy with them and me.

I’m always jealous when you men come here and say that you’re already hairy. 😌

But none the less. You want bigger feet to make your boy friend happy? Well my friend that is going to come at a cost. But I’m sure you’re more than willing to pay it. In the gym you’ll find yourself getting out of the shower wrapping a towel around your hairy waists when you feet and calves begin to spasm. Looking down you’re shocked to see your feet. Bulging with veins. Pulsating with each heart beat but they are also…getting bigger. Taking a seat you let the heat of change take over and your feet grow larger and thicker. Getting wider and definitely sweatier. Soon your feet look as though they have doubled in size making it so you will never wear your regular shoes again. And the hair that coats them is so thick and dark it looks like you leg hair hair didn’t stop growing. Even covering the thick stubby toes you now have. I’ve given you what you wanted. And a pair of heavy size 20 wides is definitely what a big bear of a man like you needs. But there’s also something else. As payment for these large feet you’ll need to sacrifice something. 260? For a bear like you. Tall and now with enormous feet! These thick’s sweaty soul are meant to carry some heavy weight. Your stomach begins to gurgle and you begin to burp. You panic not know what’s going on as you can feel pressure building. You look down and slowly you see your stomach pushing its way out. Losing the slimmer waists you have become accustomed to while a large round gut forces its way onto you torso. You try to push it back in but find it impossible. When you feel like you can’t take this immense pressure anymore it stops growing. Standing up you sway. Not even sure what just happened but looking down you can see the damage. You used to have a slight paunch to your hairy bear body but now you have a full blown gut. You go to the scale. 325 lbs. putting your hands on your head you’re shocked. How could this be. But what’s sad is I’ve thought more. And with a surge of energy your stomach blows out slightly. Hitting the scale weight and making them slam against the wall. Breaking the metal contraception. 350 lbs is more like a good weight for a big foots bear like you. And what’s even more is that with this heavy weight you now carry you’ll find it almost impossible to out those sweaty shoes on when you get them. Crocs maybe? That could be a good fit for you now. Let’s your boy friend decide because he’s going to be the ones that has to help you put them on. And sure I’m not completely evil. So I’ll even grant you the ability to lose some of this weight. But don’t think I’m that kind as your weight will never drop below 335 lbs ever again. You’re going to be a big bear now and for good.

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the-anime-enthusiast · 5 months ago

Text

MHA CHARACTERS TYPE IN WOMEN

#3 Shoto Todoroki

SHOTO TODOROKI - PHYSICAL

Bro does not care 😭🙏 I personally believe that romance is very hard for him to understand and emerse himself in, so whenever he finally meets someone nice he barely pays attention to the physical ✋😌

Besides that I still gotta provide some grounds of his attraction so to start I think he likes slim women, not like super skinny, he's okay with some chub but he prefers athleticism (I blame his dad), someone who looks like they run cross country 🫡

LEGS LEGS LEGS you got long legs? Folded. 8 different ways. 🫡 He likes em bigger, skinny, muscle, bro does not care, he just likes them 🙂‍↔️ Finds himself laying next to you at night rubbing them, not even in a sexual way, just like giving massages and touching them 🧍‍♀️

Long hair 😉 He prefers someone with natural color, just any natural color honestly, BUT AN ABSOLUTE SUCKER FOR LONG STRAIGHT BLACK HAIR ‼️(momo cough cough) He's a very traditional man and finds beauty in traditional women 🤧

Small boobs ✋😌 He's never been a sexual person but loves em, something easy to grab 🌚

If you dress like a mom or a teacher he's puddy 🧍‍♀️ I believe he has a hard time expressing his feelings and understanding his own thoughts so this, he just kinda rolls with 😭 You got a thin maxi skirt, cardigan, SOME GLASSES? He's done for. K.O.‼️

Features don't matter a lot for him buuutt HE LOVES BEAUTY MARKS‼️ Like a lil mole on the face like Marilyn Monroe, he's checked out. His fav random feature he likes 🌞

SHOTO TODOROKI - MENTAL

Smart women 🙇‍♀️ Loves a big brain and someone who can just as logical as he is, seeing things for what they are on face surface 🙂‍↕️

motherly women 😭 He doesn't get it either but if you cook and clean for him ✋ Play with his hair til he falls asleep in your arms ✋ KISS HIS FOREHEAD ✋ He's a pile of puddy for you to play with bro 😭 He loves it 😌

SWEET AND GENTLE WHO DONT UNDERSTAND THEIR OWN STRENGTH‼️ He loves to give reassurance to the people he loves and ABSOLUTELY LOVES giving compliments, making you feel good about yourself, so when you often doubt yourself he kinda likes it 😭 Gives him an excuse to constantly tell you how great your doing and when you accept his compliments with warmth and love he practically dies 🫶

SHOTO TODOROKI - RANDOM

Had a crush on Kiyoko from HAIKYUU 🧍‍♀️ Watched it when he was like 12 and that was the first time he ever had a lil crush on somebody 🤭

LOVED watching the Geisha as a kid, always admired them so much, thought they were the most beautiful women he's ever seen too ❤️

BOARD GAMES‼️ Loves playing some board games with his s/o 🤩 Loves to play Mahjong, complex card games, even some of the new stuff like cards against humanity, but only when someone there to help him understand what's so funny about the game 😭🫶

Making tea and sweets are fav past time for him and his girl, Indulging her in her baking fantasies 😚 (stealing his dad's credit card information and buying her all the expensive supplies she needs) 🌝🎂

TRADITIONAL CLOTHING ‼️ GETS THIS BOY GOOOOIIIINNNGGGG ‼️ He loves it so so much, in an innocent way even, something about it lights the fire in his soul 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

THATS THE POST ‼️‼️Again, I've never been a huge fan of SHOTO but trust me ✋ I get it so HERES SOME HEAD CANNONS FOR YALL ‼️ Hope you enjoyed, I've always loved the idea that he's OBSESSED. with traditionalist things so writing about it was SO MUCH FUN ‼️

the Geisha thing is my fav ☺️ Just little SHOTO watching them go down the street with his mom, awestruck by their beauty 😭🫶🫶

THANKYOU FOR THE SUPPORT AND LOVE, IM SO SO GLAD YALL ENJOY MY DRABBLES ‼️ BYE BYE POOKIES 😚😚 (LEMME KNOW WHO ELSE I SHOULD DO, ILL DO ANY ME CHARACTER‼️) (literally any 👁️👁️)

YOURS TRULY ‼️ SMUDGE 😉

#bnha shoto todoroki #bnha todoroki #bnha #mha shoto #mha todoroki #mha headcanons #mha #shouto todoroki #shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #headcannons #writing prompt #fic prompt

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toxicnick · 3 months ago

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Rhys (pronounced: rise) was originally made to be a Bad Sans, part of Nightmare's gang, but I winded up changing things around when I remade his newest design.

Rhys' au is erased, it was attacked and destroyed by a group of skeletons. He doesn't know who, he couldn't make out their faces in time of the chaos. He managed to be the only one in his au to make it out alive, but due to now being au-less, he wanders in the void.

He has never met any of the other Sanses, but if he were to meet one, it would most likely be Error or Ink first, due to being in the void.

- - Rhys, lowkey is hoping someone would find him, recreate his au, or give him a new one that's already existent. A place to call home. He misses his friends, he's alone now.

Back in Rhys' au, before it got destroyed, before it was erased... something was lurking in his au, it was draining everyone's energy. Rhys found out the hard way what it was.

It's the reason Rhys' skull is cracked.

A strange smell filled the au, and no one knew where it was coming from, so people of course went out to look. Rhys was one of those people, and unfortunately for him, he found what it was.

A parasite was roaming freely, hiding in the shadows. It brought around a nasty smell wherever it went and was feeding off the peoples energy.

When Rhys found the parasite, he was attacked by it, and the parasite cracked a hole into Rhys' skull. It crawled into his skull, in his head, and rested there. It's eating slowly away at the inside of his skull, and the crack is slowly getting bigger.

Rhys refuses to eat, or claims he isn't hungry, because it'll just power the parasite even more. But, by doing this, he is weakening himself. If the parasite isn't removed and killed, he will die. Rhys cannot do it himself, he needs help from someone, and it requires magic to do which he lacks.

When it comes to magical power, the only thing Rhys can do is summon bones and move things with telekinesis. He isn't considered over powered in any sense, in fact he's really weak. He would be easy to take down if it wasn't for the fact that he was smart, and can dodge insanely well. When it comes to battle, Rhys just has to pray the other will eventually get tired.

Over time, Rhys began getting red marks over his body, probably from the parasite as he never had the spots before. If the parasite gets stronger, eventually Rhys' body will turn fully red.

Once the parasite is in control, Rhys will be considered "corrupt." With a red skeletal frame, and a thirst to destroy anything in sight. He is hoping he will be saved before this happens, as in the end, it'll be too late to save his soul. He'd have to be killed.

Rhys would do ANYTHING to remove the parasite. He would hurt someone if it meant he could be free of it. Even if he had to pass the parasite on to another, he would. It's hurting him too much, and he can't bare the pain. Rhys tries to ignore it, but whenever the parasite isn't sleeping and it's moving or feeding, it's nothing but pain.

- he would feel bad for the other if he ever passed it on to someone else, but if he could, he would.

Some basic information ;

- Rhys goes by he/him, he is bisexual with a strong male preference.

(NSFW:) In any sort of "sexual" take, he is a switch and is more than likely to lean to the opposite of what his partner prefers. (As in if his partner is a top, he will bottom, and vice versa).

Rhys' favorite color is red, while his magic is orange and yellow. -- when his power is activated, it could have slight pink and purple highlights.

Rhys' ribcage has red marks on it, too, just like his face and hands. Where a humans heart would be is a red mark shaped as a heart, a little deformed but still a heart.

- - - - - - -

I'm fine if anyones oc wants to save him!, I'll wind up adding it to the lore though, meaning if it happens-- you're my friend. That's it. You cannot ignore me I will STAB YOU EIWOEKW RAHHHH, /j

Anyway,, mwa mwa!

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siremasterlawrence · 2 months ago

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Who’s The Real Hero Here?

The boat hit the shores as Captain America lands on to it with a small boat as he crawls upward scaling the rocky area to the top of the clips grabbing one rock at a time and he finally reaching the top of the hill he climbs up higher. He now plants his feet as he peers in to the window staring down at empty room even though he was sent on a mission by the old school ways of being by Shield even he is aware of how crazy it is and he took his shield upward smashing it in to the window. He throws himself following that as he flips barreling in to the room descending done a field of stairs he grabs on to the rail flipping in to alley oop on the staircase in a perfect ten I am watching through my camera in my basement as the room begins to widen up.

Getting even bigger and of course he has the body stamina of a Olympic Champion as he leaps to the ground floor racing across the end of the steps on to the ground floor with so much determination in his eyes and his heart. The floor literally opens from under him as he descends miles down floor by floor in the air as Steve needs to make a emergency like strategy grabbing hold on to edge of a floor he manages to getting stiff lifting upward on to the bridge because as we know Steve can do it all day. Yanking himself with a bit of a struggle he is able to land back on to the brighter he race in to dthe room as he finds himself in midst of a elongated hall way calling to him a voice in the sound system all he can hear is S-t-e-v-e.

Steve unhooks his shield launching it in to the air as he kicks it hard smashing across the room it ricocheting from wall to wall at full force downward of the hall way as it is slamming in to the elevator doors and Cap breaks through and the heat of the building steams up. Loading on to the elevator shaft as the door closes instantly shaking a bit before the lift starts to speed upward to the top floor of the elevator bank the lights begin to blink blinding him and the buttons begin to blink on and off in a strange aura of colors giving Steve a minor headache. The elevator door pops to the side allowing him to access to the floor as he walks in to the room clinging his back to the wall his shield is already to go and he is uses both of arm and shields what he is not expecting is the figure in the dark lit up translucently before him.

Something triggering electrical out put of the locks of the building are shuttering the him as he locks down the world keeping Steve in his place and in his heat and Steve can feel it in his soul that his life is about to go through a significant change as he walks further in to the room as the temperature drops causing Cap to become the Capsicle Iron man calls him. The figure comes into picture now in a fuller, brighter and special effect thoroughly as it’s obviously a sneak attack by him the mystery new villain who has appeared on the scene from no one in particular because it is totally obvious and we all he is The Spectacle a super villain man of supernatural power consuming him in all ways. Steve does his best to resist the man who’s eyes glow emeraldintensity as they go spiraling out of control ensnaring him easily his eyes follow him in deep forgetting everything else that has happen as he dropping deeper, faster and harder then he ever thought in a mixing a swirl pool of craziness drowning Steve in it a sea of pure power.

“Oh Captain! That daring look in my eyes.”

“You are remnant of the past, I can’t shake it off.”

“Do not compare me to…the red skull.”

“You are more evil then…”

“Why are you so interested then?”

“You found my case, you had to track me all the way here.”

“I can stand idly bye”

“Mwahahahahaha…goody two shoes”

“I am Soldier…fuck off”

“Do you honestly think I would care?”

“ Typical of you “

“Why Cap?”

“It’s Captain”

“Captain “

“I am a hero”

“Let me show you “

“Would a hero do this?”

“I failed yes”

“Your friends are dead Cap”

“They are gone…no you did this”

“I can’t prevent the truth “

“Even I tried”

“Nnnnnooooo!”

“Can’t handle the heat ?”

“I am only saving you “

“I can make it go away “

“I won’t surrender “

“One kiss Captain”

“I am not you puppet”

“So you say”

“No! I am in control “

“Why are you standing up?

“Walking towards me”

“Kissing me”

“Mmmmm”

“You love it, give into the lust”

“Oh fuck! Whatever! Who am I ?”

The man snaps his fingers as the walls rise receding upward in to the ceiling as a white light covers the room in a sea of color blinds Steve as he backs up when a figure walks up to him. The light flashes in to the room as he witnesses who the man it is ole pal Bucky Barnes who stood up facing with him in utter rage in his eyes and Steve looks with joy but is soon met with a massive punch to the face. Steve manages to take most of the power of the heat from that punch as he smacks his pals hand a side and they go toe until our guy Steve grabs him by his arm.

As he back flips to the end of the ground slamming his foot on to him. Bucky burst out loud barrels throughout the room bouncing wall to wall as he uses his foot to kick him in the shin as Steve cries in pain and Bucky uses it to pin him down.The man laughs bit as Bucky wides his arms open up when he jumps in to Bucky’s body as they merge in to one taking Bucky’s own appearance to Steve is completelyleft in sea of horror at this revelation and he will regret it. He has no time to react when a barrage of bullets hit him head on as he backflips to his feet using shield to launch forward hitting Bucky hard as it shreds over the room and slams him into the wall in a unique permanent way.

“Bucky STOP!”

“Bucky is no longer here”

“Get to the point”

“I want you to serve me and be mine”

“Never gonna happen”

“How fowl Cap!”

“Bastard! Release me”

“As if!”

“Release Buck and I”

“You will serve me eventually “

“Excuse me! No who you are …”

“Speaking to you?”

“Bucky hear me”

“He Can’t!”

“What are you a dunce ?”

“Watch yourself I am…”

“Sentinel of justice?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck off”

“Oh well! Bucky end him”

“….”

“Yyyyeeeesssssss!” NOW mwahahaha “

“Oh Master! Your power surges through us my king. “

“We are compelled! You erased us forever “

The end

#chris evans #steve rogers #evil captain america #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #mind control slaves #gay hypno #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #reprogramming #mind control #hypnosis #hypno slave #hypno submission #enslaved #enslavement #male transformation

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xo-cod · 1 year ago

Note

could you write something soft and fluffy with price 🤍🫧

of course! i love my husband :") <33

"come here" you patted the space next to you on the bed and john followed, sitting beside you as he handed you his palm. he was fresh out of the shower after yet another gruelling mission, thankfully everything had gone well for the most part. him and his team were left with a few injuries.

though he would've been content just sticking a bandaid on it and calling it a day, you worried for his health. you gently hold his bigger hand between your warm ones, his skin was already beginning to blister and it looked painful, he tried not to show it but you could tell, you always knew.

"s'not that bad, sweetness" he chuckles tiredly, leaning his head against the headboard as he looks to you. truthfully any and all pain in his body seemed to vanish when you were near, he couldn't care less over some burn mark. not when his beauty was sitting so close to him

"to me it is" you playfully roll your eyes, taking the first aid kit from the drawers next to you. delicately, you clean the debris from his wound with a pair of sanitised tweezers. your fingers take great care not to hurt him even more,

all the while john just simply gazes at you with nothing but tenderness and adoration. his heart flutters in his chest at your concentrated look, finding it completely endearing how you took care of him so well. he always was the one helping people, it felt nice to be the other one for a change.

between your warmth and the the blankets of the bed, he's so very tired from the long day. all he wants to do was to hug and kiss you until your touch was burned into his skin, until the tender ache in his heart was quenched by you.

he settled for leaning his head against your shoulder, tucked right under your neck. it makes your head strain slightly but you dare not move, not when he was so comfortable in your grasp. his locks tickle your cheeks and his beard rubs against your shoulder but it's comforting to know he he truly was, back in your arms, back home safe

"are you okay?" he hadn't even realised you were done, already tightening the bandage securely over his palm. it elicited a soft hiss from him and you quickly pull it a little back, making sure it was snug but not restricting.

"i'm sorry" you grimace, gently touching his hand, rubbing your thumb over the bandage ensuring it was secure in its place.

"s'all right, can barely even feel it love" he smiles, wiggling his fingers making you chuckle. he holds your palm, opening your fingers to place a soft yet intimate kiss to the middle and then resting his face for a few seconds until his warm eyes meet yours again. it makes your heart ache for the man, how much you loved every part of him, how much you'd do for him.

"you're so silly" you gently laugh, pecking his forehead while you cleaned the supplies off from the bed. a soft grin falls on his lips at your words, he hadn't expected to fall so hard for another person. he hadn't expected to ever open his heart up for another and yet the little world shared between you both was something he now couldn't live without. it was his sanctuary, his safe haven.

something that gave him comfort when he was deployed and something that kept him hoping during the hard days.

you turned to place the first aid box back its rightful place but price holds you and gently rests his chin back on your shoulder. his arms come around your waist, lazily resting around your hips. you turn around in his grasp and see your lover giving you one of his beautiful smiles, leaning in to kiss your lips with such a ferocity it sets your soul on fire. you both share a cherished moment in your fleeting world, resting your foreheads softly against ome another.

no words needs to be shared in this moment, you feel everything he could ever possibly say with the way he looks and holds you <33

#asks #john price #john price x reader #john price x reader fluff #john price x you #john price x y/n #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare

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bp-zb1fics · 1 year ago

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A little crazy

pairing: overprotective bf shanbin x s/o reader

genre: university au on unhingedness (same verse as perils, and no, it's not lasik), fluff

tw/tags: established relationship, some stereotypical characters, hanbin has a few quirks, character study lowkey, unwanted flirting, unintentional flirting, pet names, intimidation, he's sweet but a psycho, drinking, getting a lil tipsy, lowkey stalker vibes but not really, for plot purposes we will find it cute, threatening, idk how to tag this pls tell me if i missed something

wc: 2078

summary: your boyfriend is legitimately the sweetest person ever…except when someone tries to make moves on you. Then he gets…well…

a/n my advanced birthday fic for hanbin! Bc idk why I thought it was today I must have hallucinated but also idk if I have time to post on the actual day bc of real life commitments lmao whoops I struggle and try my best. Shout out to Kara aka @boysplanetmorelike for sparking this lil idea~

Check my pinned for more fics~

It’s not like he was perfect, even if people liked to think he was. Well, yes he is very boyfriend. That’s why he’s your boyfriend.

You, of all people, can attest to the fact he isn’t perfect. You’ve seen his hair in the morning. He’s definitely not at his prettiest. Sometimes he becomes a little control freak. You know that. You’re the one who they call to get him before he makes one of the poor freshmen cry unintentionally and then ends up feeling guilty about it and apologising profusely for the rest of the day, your poor soft-hearted man. And some might argue that yes he has his little ticks but they’re only minor character flaws if they can be considered flaws at all.

If only they knew.

Those who have had the pleasure of getting to know Sung Hanbin on a more, well, personal level are probably the only ones who will ever know. Poor souls, really.

And perhaps it isn’t as effective to explain as it is to show what exactly one of his more problematic personality issues is. Let’s take one unsuspecting, innocent afternoon.

Perspective. You’ve just finished class. It’s a pleasant day. You decide to meet at one of the benches under the trees outside your building. His class finishes a bit after yours so you wait, scrolling through your phone, peaceful, unbothered.

Enter unfortunate victim. For the purpose of this exercise, he shall remain unnamed. We’ll call him Victim #444. Or well, that guy.

He’s your typical fuckboy. Good looking in a sort of lukewarm way, hugely overconfident, probably thinks he has a bigger dick than he actually does, a horrible flirt, we’ve all met that type.

You share a class together. That’s how he makes conversation. Otherwise, he might not dare to approach at that time. Your talk goes something like this.

“Hey, you’re in Choi-seongsaengnim’s class too right?”

“Yeah?” You look up from your phone and he’s just there. He takes a seat on the same bench without asking. Well, it’s public property but he’s a little closer than you would like.

“He’s such a hardass, don’t you think? Like sure, he knows the lesson but he doesn’t need to act like this is the only class we’re taking.”

“Well, I mean-”

“-Like seongsaengnim, come on, I have a life outside of trying to figure out what the fuck your lessons mean.” You can add self-absorbed and stupid to this one’s list of notable traits.

“I think-” And definitely not letting you get a word in.

“Speaking of, have you got a partner for the latest project? Because, you know, I’ve been asked but I’m happy to make an exception if you want to pair up.”

“Actually, I already have-”

“Let me give you my number so we can contact each other? Maybe meet up, you know? I’ve got a nice little place to myself on the other side of campus.”

Ugh, as if. He’s leaning in so close that you can smell his cheap cologne. Before you can get up from the bench, arms wrap around you from the back and a very familiar voice coos in your ear.

“Ahh nae sarang, sorry I’m late.”

You turn your head, leaning into him.

“Hi Binnie-yah.”

He beams at you before directing his stare at the other guy. And so it begins.

“Oh, who’s this?”

You’re pretty sure Hanbin knew who this was. He knew who everyone was and at least one notable thing about them because he was quirky like that. Well, he wasn’t known as the university’s social butterfly for nothing. And you don’t want to spoil his fun so you let the guy introduce himself.

“Ah, you’re taking that major, yeah? So Junho-yah is your senior, how is he these days?”

“Oh, ah yes, Junho-sunbaenim’s been doing well, I don’t really see him around much actually.”

And bingo. The guy starts squirming. Faster than it usually takes. Your boyfriend’s made himself comfortable even though he’s half-hunched over and resting his chin on your shoulder, looking at the other guy with an unwavering stare. Sort of the way a spider would probably look at a fly before, well, you know.

“Really, well last I heard from him, he was complaining about how disrespectful his underclassmen are…but you’re not like that, aren’t you?”

“Ah, no, of course not sunbaenim.”

You can feel Hanbin’s smile get wider, his eyes crinkling in a way that you find adorable but you suspect might not be as cute for your unfortunate companion.

“That’s good, keep up the good work. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if any of my underclassmen were being disrespectful. Ah well, actually I can….”

He pauses and you swear that the guy stops breathing.

“...and I can definitely say that they’ll be very sorry that they even tried that with me.” Hanbin continues cheerily.

Suddenly he walks over and starts patting him on the shoulder. The guy flinches back.

“So next time, remember to be on your best behaviour and keep being polite, hmm? Don’t be so obvious? Maybe try not to be so shameless, yeah?”

“Ah, yes, of course, sunbaenim. Actually I- I just remembered I- I have to go- ah- sorry to disturb um- excuse me-”

You watch as he does a roughly 90 degree bow to both of you before walking off quickly.

“Less than 5 minutes, Binnie, that’s a new record.”

And your cute boyfriend is back, pouting and grabbing at your hands and squeezing them softly. If you were anyone else, you would have gotten whiplash.

“It’s not my fault if I want you all to myself, hmmm?”

Did you mention that your boyfriend was a little off in the head? Not in the should-be-confined-to-the-mental-hospital way but that slight sort of insanity that possesses him when someone tries to go for his little brother (rip Gunwook) or his little sister or his close friends or well, you.

And everyone else? Everyone else was not safe. If murder was legal, literally everyone else would probably be fearing for their lives. Which is probably a good thing that murder isn’t legal. Those incredibly lucky bastards.

Take one of the freshmen trying to chat you up during a party. They’ve been incredibly nice all evening, pouring you drinks and asking you all sorts of thoughtful questions about the major. So yes, you’re very happy to answer and give them little tips on how to ace a certain project.

“And it’s honestly fine if you mess up a little on your first test for Hwang-seongsaengnim’s class, he’s very nice when it comes to students forgetting a few names so don’t stress too much about it and make sure to ace the extra credit he gives.”

“Oh, thank you so much sunbaenim. That’s so helpful, I’ll definitely try my best.”

You can’t help but smile. So cute. Maybe it was the alcohol but you remember how it was like being a wide-eyed, overeager freshman listening attentively to your own seniors.

“It’s really no problem. Ask me anything, anytime. Seriously, don’t be afraid if you need advice.”

You reach over to pat them, swaying just a little from the amount of soju running through your body. They’re awfully red as well. You wonder why.

“How are you getting home, sunbaenim? Do you live nearby? I can walk with you if you’re comfortable with that, I don’t think it’s too safe to be out at this time.”

“Oh it’s no worries, I’ll be taking them home.”

“Ah Hanbinnie, meet my new dongsaeng” you’re not too sure when he got here or even why he’s here but Hanbin’s incredibly warm and his hands around your waist feel so nice.

“This is my boyfriend.” You introduce him to the freshman. He dips his head in greeting as the other nearly tips over trying to bow. You make a concerned noise, making to catch the other but Hanbin firmly keeps you from moving, letting the freshman catch themselves instead.

“So nice to meet you, we’ll get going if that’s alright. It’s really not safe to be out this late, especially with someone you barely know.” You hardly register your boyfriend’s words but you’re not that drunk that you don’t know the smile he’s giving is about 95% fake and razor-sharp.

“Ah yes, get home safely, sunbaenim. I’ll find my way back so don’t worry.”

“Oh we won’t” You think you hear Hanbin say. Maybe. Could be your imagination. Because the next moment he’s nuzzling at your neck like a very spoiled cat, arms firmly holding you up as he guides you out of the bar and into the car.

“Nae sarang, you really need to take better care of yourself or I won’t want to let you out of my sight.” He says to you softly as he practically carries you into the passenger seat. It’s sweet, well the implication behind it is kinda creepy but you know he doesn’t mean it that way. (Does he?)

“You drove here?”

“Of course, I can’t let you go home all by yourself, can I?”

Like you said, there’s just a tiny screw loose in that head of his, considering the bar where you’re drinking is over an hour away from campus. You chalk it up to it being Hanbin. He can get a little paranoid on occasion.

And sometimes, he goes a bit psycho. A little. Not a lot. Still, according to Gunwook, it’s terrifying. You really wouldn’t know but you’ve seen it.

You’ve come to wait for his dance club to finish when someone collides into you. It’s not too hard but it still knocks you off your feet and onto the ground with a thud.

“Yah, watch where you’re going, huh? I have a performance next week and I could have injured myself.”

It’s definitely one of the newer members because you don’t recognise them. Before you can say anything, Seo Won, one of the veterans, is already helping you up and asking if you’re okay. The one that knocked you over huffs and is about to say something else when Hanbin calls their name sharply.

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow and maybe you’re a little lightheaded from the fall but also from the way his shirt clings to his body and his hair weighed down by sweat. It’s kinda hot but you’re not admitting that out loud. Not now, at least. He calls the other member’s name again and gestures him over.

He speaks too quietly for you to hear anything. All you know is that the other’s face pales drastically and he bows several times, walking over and apologising to you before practically hightailing out of the room.

Hanbin’s all over you in a matter of seconds, practically lifting you off the ground. It’s not good for your heart. Seo Won quickly backs off.

“My poor sarang, are you okay? Do you need anything? Ice? Are you bruised anywhere? Let me check.”

You don’t ever see the person who knocked you over again. Ever. You’d wonder about it but you’ve learned that it was better not to question sometimes. Especially when Hanbin insists on carrying you around for the rest of the day and practically waits on you hand and foot until the bruises fade. And it’s just a bruise. You do admit to him later that maybe you find it attractive when he’s a shade pissed and sweaty. Maybe you both get a little sweaty after that. And later, when you’re rightfully tired and sprawled out on top of him, you think about it.

Really, you wonder what goes through his mind sometimes.

[cut scene]

Hanbin smiles, all teeth and no sympathy. It’s like the serial killer before the murder.

“You speak to anyone like that ever again and I can do injuring for you, understood? No, don’t talk, just nod if you’ve managed to get it into that head of yours, hmm?”

A nod. Hanbin likes it when they’re like this. Quiet and white-faced and sweating nervously.

“Now go apologise to them. Sincerely. Like you mean it. And then, get lost. I don’t want to see your face for awhile, yes?”

Another nod. They take one step back and make to turn around.

“Oh wait.”

They freeze.

“Remember. Sincerely, okay? And don’t think I won’t know if it isn’t.”

A final nod.

“Very good. Now go.”

They go. Hanbin sighs. God, you’re going to drive him insane one day. (He already is)

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lostloveletters · 7 months ago

Text

Jesus or Gasoline (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Woody isn't sure what she believes in, except for the way John Brady makes her feel.

Note: Here it is, the result of my making a ‘guy who says grace before giving head’ joke about Brady. I wanna give a million thanks to all the Woody/Brady babes out there because y'all's support and enthusiasm for them means the world to me! As usual I listened to a lot of Bruce Springsteen while writing this. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Inevitable historical inaccuracies. This goes into Woody’s not so great childhood/young adulthood and her generally negative internalized thoughts surrounding religion. Sexually explicit content involving oral sex (f. receiving) and coming in pants.

The field behind the hangar was a questionable date spot at best, but Woody figured it was better than nothing. Secluded enough with some lighting as to not be stumbling around in the dark, but without fear of being easily identified if they got caught before they could make a break for it if needed.

Word of the late night rendezvous had come from Holly, barely able to contain her excitement at being the messenger. “Your beau wanted me to tell you to meet him tonight,” she whispered, giggling as she added, “said you’d know where.”

Woody had given Holly all of the details the night John Brady kissed her, her best friend in ecstatic disbelief that so much had happened while she and Bucky were listening to a baseball game across the way. Holly took girl code as a sacred oath, not mentioning Woody and Brady’s relationship to a soul in the week or so that had passed. John wasn’t exactly pleased when Woody let him know that she told Holly, but he supposed if Woody trusted Holly that much, he could, too.

“There you are, sweetheart,” John said, with a genuine fondness that she almost couldn’t believe was directed toward her. “Have you been waiting long?”

She shook her head, greeting him with a kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“I brought you something,” he said, pulling a Hershey bar from his pocket.

“Don’t waste that on me, are you kidding?”

“Holly told me you give the village kids whatever candy you get, and I know ground crew doesn’t get as much in your rations as we do.”

Good ol’ Holly. “They appreciate it more than me.”

He looked at her pointedly, though eyes glistened in amusement as he half-scolded, “Don’t reject a gift, sweetheart. It’s bad manners.”

Woody fought back a smile, felt her cheeks heating up . “Thank you, Johnny. You’re real sweet.” Gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his forearm. “Can we at least split it?”

“I won’t say no to that.”

The grass was damp from the late afternoon rain. She was glad she thought to grab an old blanket, worn out and smelled faintly of fuel, but it’d do.

He split the bar in two, handing the bigger half to her. She took a bite, surprised to find herself feeling a wistful melancholy for the states at the taste of it. Wasn’t sure she ever felt homesick before, but there was a first time for everything. Like John laying out on the blanket, resting his head in her lap.

“Comfortable?” she asked with a laugh.

“Great view from here.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You know, I’ve been dying to ask you this ever since I met you,” he began, giving her pause at the seemingly endless possible questions he could hit her with. “Do you really like being called ‘Woody’?”

She nodded, stroking his hair, taking in how relaxed he looked. “Yeah, I really do. It’s been nice to leave ‘Kate’ behind and start fresh.”

“So your first name is just Kate?”

“Shows you how much thought my parents put into it.”

“See, I wanna know more about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We talk a good deal, but I don’t know much about your life before all of this.”

“I don’t have anything nostalgic or good to tell you, especially not about me. I’m ashamed of who I was before. I’m trying to be better, John. I really am. I don’t—I don’t hang around people who have nothing going for them.”

People like how she used to be. The backstreets burst at the seams with them. Children of neglect, of the Depression, of something wild otherwise running through their veins. They made their homes where they could. Guys who rode around on streaks of lightning, spewing pure gasoline from snarled lips on each of those hilly avenues until they were wrangled in the back of cherry-topped police cars. Girls who should’ve known better drank empty promises out of broken glasses, handed to them by the constantly circling shark-men. Kate learned quickly not to get attached to anyone. They looked out for each other, but they weren’t friends. There was a difference.

“I got an older brother named Tom. Last I heard he was in jail for holding up a liquor store,” she said. “I haven’t seen him since I was eleven, though. That’s when I really started looking after myself.”

“Eleven is pretty young to be on your own,” he said, taking her hand from his hair and holding it in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“What were you doing when you were eleven?”

He shrugged. “Rode bikes around with my friends. Started learning saxophone. I was an altar boy, too.”

“So your family went to mass a lot when you were growing up?”

“Every Sunday that we could. I remember my mom waking us up to go even when we had to walk through a foot of snow to get there because the roads hadn't been cleared yet,” he said, his voice growing softer as he spoke. “Doesn’t seem all that bad, now. Maybe it—it helped some.”

Woody had seen John make the sign of the cross dozens of times. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Remembered the first time she watched him among the other Catholic guys in the 100th, crowded around the chaplain for his makeshift blessing on the tarmac before their missions. Devotion ran exceptionally high then, men suddenly armed with a rainbow of beaded rosaries and holy cards adorned with saints whose weary eyes gazed upward, where those men were soon to be. Their heads bowed in silent contemplation as the priest concluded in Latin, John’s mouth moving along with sed libera nos a malo. But deliver us from evil.

A handsome face like his deserved half a dozen kids with names like Mary and Francis who filed neatly into a pew with their shiny patent shoes and a big family meal to look forward to after mass. Kids who gave the likes of her odd looks when she shuffled into church for whatever lunch the nuns were dishing out that afternoon. Always dressed in her Sunday worst—ill-fitting blouses and holey shoes until she ditched their charity and decided she was better off raising hell in denim jeans. God loved everyone, and his love was unconditional, but no one wanted to say he loved some people more than others, and Kate was pretty low on his list.

After all, Kate Woodward was born without a middle name on a Wednesday morning that even god himself forgot about. Didn’t know what the weather had been like the first time she breathed in the air of her home city, but she was sure it felt like a kick in the chest. Probably why babies cried when they made their grand escape from the womb.

Hardly raised in the first place, Kate had little faith in god or man, just in the machines she could bend to her will until they gave her freedom to go wherever she pleased. But her freedom had gnashing teeth and a forked tongue that were never satisfied, no matter how many vices she fed it, and she was nothing short of gluttonous in this endeavor.

Tried and true, the one she had the hardest time shaking—sticky fingers. If Kate saw something she liked, she took it. From drug store shelves to purses to wallets, nothing was off limits. As time went on, her spoils only got bigger and better, linking up with people who taught her how to steal cars like riding a bike. She had yet to find a replacement for that particular thrill, but her self-control had markedly improved in a little over two years.

Then there were men with hacksaw smiles that threatened to cut her open if she got as close as they wanted her to. Thunderous voices that cracked with rage when she’d shove the smoldering cherry tip of her cigarette into a hand that got too close for comfort. None of them were any good, not like the man with his head in her lap, who brought her chocolate rations and listened intently to her, even as her voice shook with trepidation at bearing so much of her heart.

Woody hummed, her fingers trembling as she traced the features on his face—his expressive brows, the nose that gave him a profile she could hardly tear her eyes from, lips she dreamed about since the night he first kissed her and every time since. Besides the power of a well-maintained engine, she believed in the way she felt about John.

“I was lonely and angry,” she murmured after relaying her patchwork of regrets and fears to him. “I made a lot of mistakes because of that. It’s not an excuse. But I wanna be honest with you so you can still change your mind about me if you want to. I understand if you do.”

“There’s nothing to change my mind about, sweetheart. I want to be with you,” he said, conviction strong in his voice as he sat up.

“I’m not a virgin,” she stressed.

He shook his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I would’ve been surprised if you were.”

“Well, I didn’t love any of them—four guys in total, mind you—and it’s not like I got anything out of it, either.” She sighed. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

Crushes were for girls who lived in nice houses and wrote hearts above their i’s. Desire ran hot, expressed in glances made with hooded lids beneath buzzing neon lights that left a thousand things unsaid. But after that handful of physically underwhelming experiences which ended up being far more trouble than they were worth, she came to the conclusion that she was better suited to get her own rocks off.

“Got what out of it?” he asked.

She chewed on her lip. The only sin out there was getting caught, and Kate Woodward never got caught. Woody chose to confess. “I had to get to the good part myself.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

Her heart sank. “I haven’t done it in—“

“Those selfish bastards never made you come?”

“Not one.”

“In that case, I’d be glad to be your first.”

“I want you to be,” she said, leaning back on her hands in the dewey grass, spreading her coverall-clad legs apart. “I wanna do everything with you.”

He placed his hand on her thigh, his fingers playing with the inner hem of her coveralls. “Tell me how you want it, sweetheart.”

“I want your mouth.” Truthfully, she’d never had a guy go down on her before. Heard about it from other girls, wild ones out in the desert. A few others as she got to know the first group of WAAC girls she bunked with after enlisting. Even from Holly, as apparently Stan had been generous and enthusiastic about that aspect of their sex life. Stan, Stan, what a man, the girls would tease about Holly’s fiance before he was dearly departed.

The corners of John’s lips twitched up as he brought his fingers further along the hem, inching closer to her covered sex. “Never had a girl ask me to do that before.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

She hesitated, averting her eyes from him. “A lot of guys think it’s gross.”

“I think I should decide for myself, don’t you?” He cupped her chin, caressing her jaw with his thumb. “Look at me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?”

Upon returning her gaze to his, she found no judgment behind his eyes, but a passionate sincerity.

“I want you to go down on me,” she said.

She studied him as he watched her. His pretty lips parted slightly, drinking her in as more of her body was exposed. It wasn’t a strip tease, nothing sexy about the way she pulled her arms out from the sleeves and yanked her coveralls down to her knees, finally kicking them to her ankles and off entirely. Sat before him in her white t-shirt, plain underwear, and boots, almost boyish if not for her breasts, low on her chest, nipples poking through the fabric.

“Are you wearing a bra?” He sounded breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe he was even asking.

“No,” she said, her lips curving into a smile, letting him in on another secret. “I always take it off at the end of the day. Don’t tell anyone.”

As if the other girls didn’t know, with some degree of judgment along with their understanding that the damn thing got uncomfortable, could chafe with all the work they were doing, the sweat and friction. It wasn’t like anyone could really tell beneath the other layers, anyway. But anyone meant anyone of the male persuasion, and with that, John dutifully shook his head.

His lips were on hers in an instant, a hand on her waist, the other shoved up her shirt, squeezing her breasts. She gasped at the way his rough palm felt against her nipple, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue in her mouth. Her moans were lost to the world, claimed by him and him alone. He straddled her lap, keeping her in place beneath him.

John moved his hand from her waist to between her legs, rubbing her already wet pussy through her underwear. Her lips were undoubtedly swollen from the ferocity with which he kissed her. A delicious shiver ran down her spine at the thought of how it’d feel against her cunt.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull them off of her. Bringing up her knees, she felt a burst of adrenaline rush through her at being so exposed to him.

“You need to tell me how I’m doing, alright? I wanna make sure you feel good,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” she mumbled, almost dizzy with desire as he lowered his face between her legs.

His hot breath on her cunt, lips brushing against her folds. She strained to hear… whispering?

“Johnny?” she asked after a few moments of aching anticipation. “Baby, if you don’t wanna— Jesus Christ,” she choked out. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the rest of them.

His tongue lapped at her clit, eyes looking up at her for approval. With a shaky nod, she bid him to continue, biting her lip as to stifle the whine that threatened to escape her mouth. A noble attempt, but fruitless when he licked up her pussy with the flat of his tongue, pulling a moan from deep in her chest. Her heart was beating between her legs.

Woody could make herself feel pretty damn good on her own. She lifted a dirty magazine from a guy in Reno once. Had pictures and everything, though she wasn’t sure how real it all was. She’d look at the pictures, tongue between her lips and hand between her thighs as she imagined herself in those women’s places, feeling the ecstasy written all over their expressive faces with their typically faceless partners. From there, she’d get creative, allowing her mind to conjure up a man who, behind her closed eyes, could bring her to orgasm. Even in her wildest fantasies, she never thought she’d find one who’d actually want to bury his face in her pussy.

Fuck, if she couldn’t feel John’s fingers digging into her thighs, she would’ve almost thought she was dreaming. She grabbed his hair, pressing his face harder against her cunt. He was giving so much, and she’d take all of it, greedy with the pleasure he offered her.

He slid two fingers inside her pussy, slowly enough to see how she’d take it before pumping them in and out at a quicker pace. Used his other hand to hold her down when her hips jerked up in his face, like her muscles had a mind of their own, hellbent on reaching an orgasm. Hell, so was she.

“Just like that— fuck,” she rasped, her nails scraping against his scalp.

She nearly wanted to ask if he’d been lying, if he had gone down on a girl before. He at least had enough experience to know where her fucking clit was, but his mouth. Jesus, how could he expect her to go to the officer’s club and watch him play saxophone after this? As if she wouldn’t be sitting there, skin feverish, thighs pressed together, thinking about his mouth and his fingers in that moment. The way his teeth grazed against her clit, making her pussy clench around his fingers. The way it almost felt like he was making out with her cunt. Their eyes would meet, and he’d know, maybe have a little smirk on his face up there, too. An obscene secret privately shared amidst dozens of other people who’d be none the wiser.

“Don’t stop,” She was so close it almost hurt, wound up tight and pulsing in her gut, waiting to be released. “Please don’t stop.” Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was on the verge of bursting open. Between a fistful of grass and a hand buried in his hair, she cried out his name like a vulgar prayer in the night as her orgasm rocked through her.

A universe of stars burst across her abdomen, white-hot supernova tearing through her muscles, blinding her from anything but the pleasure that pulsed from her pussy. She finally came down from it, covered in sweat, chest heaving, a wild-eyed woman as John pushed himself back up on unsteady arms.

She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer so he was straddling her lap. Took in his mussed up hair and the way his lips glistened with the traces of her still on them. She kissed him, a muffled moan in her throat at the taste of herself on this tongue.

She wanted him. More of him. Everything he had to give. Wasn’t sure it’d be enough to sate her need, but damn if she couldn’t try.

“Johnny, can’t we just do it?” she pleaded, her voice a girlish whine that sounded otherwise foreign coming from her as she desperately pawed at him.

“Next time,” he whispered. “Next time, sweetheart, I promise.” Grazed his teeth against her hummingbird pulse. “I didn’t bring a condom.”

“But what about you?” she pressed, reaching for his crotch. “You must be—“

He shook his head, cheeks flushed as he licked his lips. “I got carried away, sweetheart. I, uh—I’m good.”

She slipped her hand down his pants, feeling the sticky evidence of his orgasm for herself. Her fingertips brushed the sensitive head of his spent cock, sending a shiver down his spine. Was he good, though? He groaned. No wonder Douglass kept so many goddamn rubbers in his footlocker.

“Next time,” he repeated, voice strained and husky in a horrific display of self-control. He nearly regretted it when she pulled her hand away, feeling something sinful stir in his gut as she inspected her hand, finally bringing it to her mouth and licking the residue off her knuckles with a feline-esque curl of her tongue.

“Just say the word, Johnny. Whenever you want me to return the favor, I’ll drop everything for you.”

He swallowed roughly. She meant it.

#john brady x oc #john brady #john brady x ofc #masters of the air #masters of the air x oc #mota x oc #mota #mota fanfic #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #ch: woody #so basically i got carried away

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