#n he thinks i might try to K word myself if i take too much on at once after eveerything

[tearfest]

sorry to log on n rant but i need to rant

[slut4thebroken]

Favorite Toy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x dom!reader

Summary | Jon just can’t control himself when it comes to you, but you always make sure he cleans up after himself when you’re finished.

Warnings | 18+, smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, objectification, cream pie, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, come eating, he’s a whore but he’s our whore, dom!reader is so mean and we love it, fluff, aftercare, sub space, a lil bit of soft dom!reader at the end

Words | 2.8 k

Notes | I don’t remember what I saw that inspired me to write this but… god bless whatever that was 🙏🏻 I might edit this again later lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Oh god- please.” He moaned into the kiss, grabbing your hips tightly. You continued grinding on him and pulling his hair, not responding to his plea yet. “Please… fuck.” 

Mostly for your own sake rather than his, you relented. You removed his clothes and your own quickly, then placed your hands on his chest as you kneeled over his hips. He let out a choked moan when you sunk down on his cock and you bit your lip to keep your sounds to a minimum. You stared down at him, admiring his flushed cheeks and red lips that were wet from the kiss. 

“That feel good?” 

“Yes— oh god, yes. Please,” He said through a breath, whimpering and trying to grind his hips up into you. 

You lifted your hips slowly, then lowered them just as slow. After only two more thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and he threw his head back with a low moan, making you freeze. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you and the heat of his come against your walls. 

“Hnngh- no.. no, please.” He whimpered, trying to get the stimulation back. 

“Did you just fucking come?” You asked, almost in disbelief, once his body sagged into the bed and he started panting as he calmed down. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I— Normally I can last longer.” He defended, cheeks burning even redder now. “I- I can eat you out? To make you come. Please?” You let out a loud laugh, making his brows furrow. 

“Oh, angel… you don’t think we’re done do you?”  

“W-” Before he could even get the word out, you were continuing, fucking yourself on his length, making him choke out moans and whimpers. “Fuck— fuck, wait… Please,”

“Save it. If you didn’t want to be overstimulated, you shouldn’t have come only a few seconds after getting this pathetic fucking dick in my cunt.” You spat, making him groan. “I don’t care if it’s too much. I’m going to fuck myself with my dildo until I come and you’re going to thank me for using you instead of my other toys.” 

“Fuck,” He gasped out, fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, but not controlling your movements. “Oh god— thank you.” He whimpered, face scrunched up in painful pleasure. 

“I’m not convinced. Should I go get another toy?” 

“No! No- I’m sorry. Thank you— Thank you for using me.��� He cried, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes. 

“That’s more like it.” You cupped his cheek, running your thumb over his swollen lips, then suddenly jerked your hand back and smacked him across the face. His head turned from the impact as a loud moan escaped his lips. 

“I can’t believe you fuck like a goddamn virgin.” You spat, wrapping your hand around his neck and squeezing. “Is my pussy too much for you, baby? Can you not take it?” You cooed mockingly, making him whine. 

“N-no I… I can take it. Please, I can take it, I promise.” He whimpered, eyes welling with tears of desperation and overstimulation. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?” Your hips started more of a rocking motion as you leaned back up, releasing his neck to steady yourself with a hand on the headboard. “Well don’t just lay there like a fucking pillow princess. Rub my clit, play with my nipples, do something.” 

“Sorry— I’m sorry.” He decided to do both, one hand reaching down to rub firm circles over your clit and the other rolling your nipple between his fingers. When that wasn’t enough he snaked his hand around to your back and pulled you down, his head meeting halfway so he could suck your nipple into his mouth. 

“Good boy.” He whimpered against you, then kissed his way to the other one to give it the same treatment. “This is why you’re my favorite toy, baby. You do exactly what your purpose is— make me feel good. Sure you can get a little eager and come embarrassingly fast but the pros definitely outweigh the cons.” He whined at the subtle degradation, but you could feel his cock twitch against your walls. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to come again?” You scoffed in mock disbelief, making him lean up even more so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck and trail kisses across it. “Awe, honey… Are you getting a little shy?” You cooed, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t be. I think it’s cute— reminds me of how desperate I can make you.” You chuckled, making him whine. 

“Go ahead then. Make another fucking mess— but just know, you will be cleaning it up later.” He let out a strangled whimper as his whole body stiffened, then started twitching and spasming. “There you go, just get it all out, darling.” You cradled his head and slowed your hips to a stop when his orgasm finally faded. “You make the cutest little whimpers when you come.” His cock twitched inside you again, making him release a pained whine. 

“But let’s see now… That was two orgasms for you, and how many for me again? Oh that’s right. Zero. All because you’re a greedy little slut who can't wait longer than a few minutes before coming.” You spat, roughly pulling on his hair to move him away from your body so you could see him. “Fucking pathetic. First I have to do all the work, then you can’t even make me come.” 

“No- no… ‘m sorry.” He mumbled. Of course he’s already worn out before you’ve even started. 

“God— look at you.” You took his cheeks in one hand and turned his face side to side, examining him. “So fucked out already. You getting tired, baby?” 

“No… ‘m awake.” 

“If you’re not, you will be soon.” You started riding him again, chasing your own orgasm now. You threw your head back with a low groan, listening to his pained moans and whimpers. “I can’t believe a cock this good is attached to a pathetic little boy who can’t control himself. It’s a shame really.” He let out a choked sob and despite the fact that he was all but begging you to stop, he still continued rubbing your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. 

“But it’s okay. I know how to handle bitches like you; just ignore them. Let them whine and beg and tire themselves out until you have a pliant, fucked out toy. I can tell you’re almost there, baby. Just let go.” He whined and squirmed, tears of humiliation and overstimulation brimming in his eyes, making the pale blue all the more beautiful. “I know all you want is to be my good boy, so just let go.” You whispered, gaze trailing all over his face, from his flushed cheeks to his red, swollen lips. “You can do it, angel. I’m right here— I got you. Just let go for me.” He let out one last pathetic whimper as a tear rolled down his temple into his hair. His bottom lip was trembling now and you leaned down to give him a soft kiss. 

“There you go. I’m so proud of you, honey. Just let me make us both feel good, yeah?” He bit his lip and nodded slowly, making the corners of your lips turn up. 

“Think you can come one more time?” He whimpered and averted his gaze, and for a second you almost thought he was about to say no or the safe word. 

“Yes.” He whispered instead, making your heart flutter. 

“Good boy. You’re so good for me.” You cupped his face, running your thumb over his cheek bone. “I know you can’t help it, baby. It makes me feel so good though, knowing how much you like it.” 

“‘m sorry.” He whimpered. 

“I know, angel. It’s okay. Make me come and I’ll forgive you, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a warm smile in return. Your breath caught in your throat and your hips stuttered when he rubbed your clit faster and harder. “That’s it.” You said through a breath. “Just like that.” 

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, so you forced yourself to continue even though your legs were starting to burn. When his pained moans turned into desperate whimpers, you knew he was close too. Trailing a hand down his chest, you brushed your fingers over his nipple, then pinched lightly, making his back arch into your touch as he let out a choked moan. 

“Oh god—“ He whined, more tears falling. “Fuck, I- I’m close…” He whispered. 

“Yeah? Keep it up, angel— doing so good for me, I’m almost there.” 

“God- it hurts.” He whimpered, body conflicted on whether it wanted more or less of the stimulation. You released his nipple and slowed into a rocking motion, making him whine. 

“What’s your color?” You asked softly, just wanting to be sure. His brows furrowed as his hips squirmed under yours. 

“Green…” He muttered, cheeks flushing. You brushed his hair out of his face a little more and he closed his eyes at the gentle touch. 

“Tell me the second it changes, okay?” 

“I will.” You could tell he was getting needy again after being so close to another orgasm. You suddenly picked up the pace and started bouncing up and down, making him throw his head back with a strangled moan. When you rested your hands on his chest for extra support, his free hand shot up to hold your arm, so you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers before pinning it to the bed. 

“Please.. Want you to come.” He whined, rubbing your clit impossibly faster. 

“I will, baby. Almost there.” You said through a breath. He stared up at you with half lidded, glossy eyes, his lips parted in a silent moan as his chest heaved. “You look so perfect like this.” You whispered, making his already flushed cheeks turn even redder. “My pretty boy.” He whined and gripped your hand tighter in response. 

If the feeling of hot come hitting your walls wasn’t enough of an indication, his eyes squeezing shut and the long, strangled whine he let out made it obvious. His fingers on your clit faltered, but quickly picked up again once his orgasm started to fade. 

While part of you wanted to edge yourself and keep torturing him, you couldn’t hold back at the sound of his pained whimpers, so you let yourself fall over the edge. It was hard to keep up the movement of your hips through your orgasm, but he maintained steady pressure on your clit, letting you ride it out. 

“Fuck, good boy.” You groaned, dragging your nails down his chest as your other hand tightened around his. His breath hitched at the sting, but you could feel his cock twitch nonetheless. You panted as you calmed down, needing to bat his hand away from your clit once you got too sensitive. 

“Ready to clean up your mess?” You asked, still breathless. He nodded, staring up at you with wide eyes, wincing when you lifted yourself off his softening cock. You moved quickly, shuffling up his body until your legs were on either side of his head. “Every drop, okay?” He nodded again, then eagerly wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down onto his face. He focused mostly on your hole, licking up your shared arousal and fucking his tongue inside you. When you pulled back, he whined and looked up at you, wondering why you made him stop. You reached down and scooped up some of his come, then sucked it off your finger, making his lips part as his eyes widened. 

“Tastes good. Want some?” You asked, even though he was already tasting it. He nodded dumbly and you scooped up some more then put it in your mouth and grabbed his cheeks to keep his mouth open as you leaned over him. He let out a choked moan when you spit his come into his mouth and you could practically feel how warm his cheeks were getting under your hand. 

“Swallow.” He whined and averted his gaze, but did what you said. “Good boy.” You lightly hit his cheek then got back into position over his face. He picked up where he left off eagerly and you placed a hand in his hair to hold him against you. Your legs were starting to shake and you desperately needed to stretch your knees, but you didn’t want to stop— not yet. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He moaned in agreement, making your hips buck against his face. “Yeah I bet you are. Fucking filthy— lapping up your own come from my pussy like a fucking dog.” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows, his eyes becoming glossy with tears. “Isn’t that right, puppy?” The new pet name had him working even more enthusiastically, sucking and licking the come out of you and occasionally giving your clit some attention. 

Originally you weren’t planning on coming again, you were just going to have him clean up his mess and that was it. But you forgot how talented he is with his mouth… 

“You want me to come on your face?” He released a muffled “yes!” against you, not bothering to pull away just to speak. You suddenly lifted yourself off of him and laid down to give your legs a break, making him look at you like a kicked puppy. “Get to it then.” You said, gesturing to your lower half. He quickly got up and settled between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you as he continued. You sighed and reached down to pet his hair, not yet grabbing it, much to his dismay. You moaned lowly and his eyes snapped up to your face. 

“At least you don’t eat pussy like a virgin.” You smirked, watching him avert his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey, it was a compliment.” It wasn’t really a compliment though, which he seemed to pick up on. 

The sound of him slurping up your shared arousal was loud compared to your stifled moans and you let your eyes fall shut as you focused on your impending orgasm. When he started whimpering and whining though, you opened your eyes again, finding his hips grinding against the bed. 

“Greedy fucking slut. Trying to come again?” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows. You could tell he was trying to stop the movement of his hips. “If you like the taste of your own come this much, maybe I shouldn’t let you come inside me anymore. Maybe I’ll just have you come in a cup so you can drink it instead.” He released a muffled whine as a protest. 

“How about this, you make me come in the next 30 seconds, and I’ll let you keep coming inside. Sound fair?” He nodded enthusiastically, making you smirk. “Alright. Clock starts now.” The only reason you gave him this challenge was because you’re already close. You like having him come inside just as much as he does and you’re too hedonistic to deny yourself that pleasure.

He ate you out desperately, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and you didn’t even bother with counting because you knew you were only seconds away from your orgasm. Tightening your grip on his hair, you pushed him into your cunt, making him whimper. Finally you fell over the edge, letting out a low moan and grinding on his face as you held him close enough to suffocate him. But he didn’t even attempt to protest, not when you were literally coming on his face. Once your orgasm finally started to fade, you pulled him away, making him whine. 

“C’mere, pretty boy.” You said softly. He crawled up the bed and laid by your side even though most of his body was on yours anyway. You grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his face before letting him lay on your chest. “Such a good boy. Made me feel so good.” You cooed and he snuggled into your chest even more as he hugged your torso. You ran your fingers through his hair and he let out a satisfied hum. 

“How are you feeling, honey?”  

“Good. Deep.” He mumbled. The first time he said that, you didn’t realize that he meant deep into sub space and he had a hard time getting the words out to explain. But now you know that it’s as close as he can get to giving you a heads up about the way he’s feeling. 

“Tired?” He hummed in agreement. “Me too.” The exhaustion hit you full force once your orgasm finished and you were just laying down.

“I love you.” He mumbled sleepily, making the corners of your lips turn up as your heart fluttered. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before responding. 

“I love you too, angel.” 

Taglist

@scarecrow-jon-babe @quietnymph11 @obsessiveimpulses

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day one

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff and flirting

length : 3.1k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken

a/n: I'm not home this week so I hope this posts correctly from my phone 😬 enjoy the chapter!!

•••

day one

If there was one thing to know about me it was that I was an absolute whore for a breakfast buffet. And the one at this hotel had both a waffle station and a chef to make you omelettes on demand so really, I couldn't be to blame. It was simply unfortunate that I was elbows deep in a plate of chocolate croissants I’d balanced on my table when Noah appeared.

For a singular moment I still had hope that he would not see me or even then, decide to ignore me and enjoy the quiet morning by himself, but after a quick detour to the coffee machine, he confidently took the seat across from me.

“You stuff everything in your mouth with that much vigour?”

Both of us froze in the middle of our movements. From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure that he was not insinuating what we were both thinking now, the realisation of what his words could mean hitting him only after they’d already been spoken. I was trying so hard not to let my face twist into a grin, or full on laughter, and it was becoming increasingly difficult with every second of horror passing through his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Finally realising that I was very much seeing the humour in his slip-up, he cracked a handsome smile, half-hidden by the hand that was rubbing his face as he groaned. I had half a mind to throw another remark at him, tease him about his faux pas a little further, but my eyes were trained on the back of his hand and the dark flower design inked into the skin.

Carefully reaching for him, I pulled the hand away from his face, lying it palm-down on the table between us between my plate of sweets and his coffee, just to study the tattoo further. Tracing every line on every patel, I committed the design to memory. It was gorgeous and it was perfect on him.

“You got any tattoos?” Noah tried very hard to sound normal, but I heard the huskiness in his voice, one that hadn’t been there before. I hoped it had to do with my touch. It was why I didn’t quite let go of him when I answered.

“A couple,” I mused. “Most of them hidden away though. Had some, quite ridiculous I can say now, ideas about wanting to have the option of a normal job that might not like to see me covered in ink. Although I’m pretty sure that ship’s sailed, so I’m definitely looking to get started on my arms soon.”

“Where’s the ones you have so far?”

He was probably expecting my legs, my shoulders, something easily shown with barely any clothes removal. Something I could let him see right now. He wasn’t entirely wrong. I did have a couple in those spots, too.

“I don’t think I can show you in a public place without becoming a menace.”

Noah’s hand visibly flinched underneath mine and he pulled back, immediately making me miss his warmth. He took a long sip of his coffee and I wondered if it was an attempt to buy some time.

“This was, um,” he coughed in between his words, “a great talk but you’re a fucking flirt and I need a bit more caffeine to deal with you.”

Disappointment flooded my veins as he got up from the table - had I been too much? Said the wrong thing? Come on too strongly? I knew I had vowed to take Lia’s advice at being a little more offensive and letting myself do whatever I was in the mood for, but that didn’t mean it was appreciated. Maybe I should back down. Keep more to myself after all. Not be so damn-

“Find me later?” He asked with a grin as he stopped next to my chair on the way out.

Well. Maybe I didn’t need to change much at all.

•••

I had forgotten how much running around was involved in a job like that. I wasn't complaining really, I did enjoy that it kept me on my toes, but I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I basically dropped Oli off for soundcheck. He'd had several appointments beforehand that I accompanied him to and even when he was busy, he still found time to think of fifteen different things he had forgotten in some place or other and needed immediately, making me cross the arena and the hotel several times more than necessary. He had way too much fun with it too.

Now I finally saw a chance to take a breather, so I grabbed a couple of things from catering (surprisingly good catering actually, Bring Me The Horizon had really moved up in the world it seemed) and went on a hunt for a quiet backstage room. I was fully planning on bunking up in one of Bring Me’s dressing rooms as they should all technically be empty now, but when I walked past a different door, half open, half closed, I couldnt help but stop as I looked inside. Noah was sitting on a couch - well, I said sitting, I really meant he was halfway to sliding down off it, his head collapsed onto the back ledge, eyes closed, looking ridiculously uncomfortable.

I didn’t mean to disturb him. In fact, I didn’t quite know what the plan was at all, but in one split decision, I walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind me and sitting down on the couch next to him. Balancing my stuff on the table, I scooped some of my (honestly deliciously smelling pasta) on a fork and carefully held it under Noah’s nose.

It was like watching a dog sleep that suddenly started dreaming of the very smell that surrounded him in real life. His nose was starting to twitch in the most adorable way, then his breathing changed a little. One by one, his body was waking up, not quite sure yet why, but pulled from his sleep anyway.

His eyes finally opened, a little at first, then more, slightly swollen from the nap had seemingly had taken him by force, as he tried to focus on where we was. Blinking, then blinking again, he finally set sight on the fork in front of him, brows furrowing as he pulled his head back to look at it better in utter confusion.

“What the-”

Noah finally sat up properly, only just now noticing me sitting next to him, amused beyond belief as I finally pushed the fork in my mouth. The pasta was a little cool already, but still surprisingly tasty. Good venues came with good catering apparently.

“Want one?” I asked, scoopin up some more pasta and holding it out to him. Still a little dazed, he simply opened his mouth and let me carefully feed him a portion.

“Didn’t you two meet, like, yesterday?” I looked up in surprise as someone entered the room. Folio, I think his name was, drummer for Bad Omens, currently looking at us with an questioning, but not unkind smile. “What’s with the married couple behaviour?”

“Very funny,” Noah commented, but there wasn’t the usual playfulness in his voice. I instinctively pulled back a little.

Both men exchanged looks I couldn’t quite interpret. I didn’t know either of them well enough to know what they were silently communicating, but I knew there was a conversation happening that I wasn’t part of. The intensity of it was felt in the whole room though. If I was the reason for it, I wanted to never be put in this position again. It even put me off the pasta I’d been shovelling in my mouth with vigour.

Then Folio turned away from him and toward me, once again showing his smile which seemed so out of place for a moment that I wondered if I had purely imagined the unease I had felt before.

“Oli’s looking for you, by the way. Apparently he left his phone in his dressing room.”

“I’d wondered why it was so quiet,” I mumbled with a look toward my own mobile. “Not sure why I thought I could escape him.”

Folio sent me a pitiful look, even though I was sure he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t really complaining. Getting up from the sofa, I cradled my pasta again, determined to finish it one way or another, putting my phone into the pocket of my jeans, when I felt a hand on me.

Noah’s fingers were wrapped around my wrist. He had sat up slightly just to reach me. I both wanted to lean into his touch and pull away, almost overwhelmed by the sensations running through my body with his fingers on my pulse point.

“Are you watching the set later?”

“Yeah, I… Oli said I could watch the show from the sound desk.”

“Good. I hope you enjoy it. I’d say I’ll look for you but I don’t think I can see that far.”

And then he sent me a smile that had my heart soaring and I was once again ready to throw all caution in the wind.

•••

“Are you sure this is okay?”

I carefully slid into a designated spot at the sound desk, giving everyone around me smiles that I hoped would convince them not to hate me for intruding into their workspace.

“Well if you touch anything, we’ll have to burn you at the stake… Other than that, welcome to the sound desk!” The woman next to me cheerfully explained. “Don’t worry, Oli vouched for you, so unless you’re extraordinarily clumsy and manage to undo all our work with the sweep of a hand over our stuff, you’re grand.”

“I’ll try my very best,” I promised. “And if I fuck anything up, take it from Oli’s wages please.”

“Oh, gladly!”

I watched as she went back to work, preparing for the upcoming Bad Omens set, and I couldn’t help but study her a little bit. If I hadn’t known from the AAA pass around her neck and, well, the fact that she seemed to know what she was doing and wasn’t in the process of getting kicked out, I couldn’t have told her from the fans that were starting to crowd around us in the venue.

She hadn’t overdone it by any measure and her face, as far as I could see, was blank of any make-up, but she had dressed the part with ease. Heavy boots accompanied her black shorts perfectly, making her look both tough and delicate somehow, her black top was wrapped in a corset, she was wearing a choker and several earrings. It just made sense. Looking down at myself, I was suddenly less thrilled with my hastily put-on choice of clothing from that morning. A simple pair of dark jeans, a non-descript shirt, no accessories whatsoever.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t made more of an effort. It wasn’t that I thought it was expected of me or necessary in any way, but looking at the sound tech reminded me of how much fun I usually had dressing up. In fact, half of my wardrobe at home was stuffed with elaborate pairs of trousers, laced tops, skater skirts, platform boots. Only I hadn’t really packed any of it.

Pulling out my phone, I shot a text to Lia.

Aubrey

Have I been hiding myself away lately

Lia

context pls

Aubrey

I can’t remember the last time I dressed up and it’s just hit me with everyone in this venue looking so fucking fab

For a moment, I wondered if she was already giving up on messaging me, but when I looked back at my phone, I realised that she was instead recording an audio message. Oh dear. Checking the time, I made sure I would manage to get a good listen before the lights dimmed and Bad Omen’s show began.

“Babe, since you’re finally realising it yourself now, yes, you’ve been letting yourself go. I didn’t want to push you too hard - well, I would have if you’d gotten really bad, you know that but then Oli called so that was off the table. But since… you know, you had that girlfriend and it was all fucked up and your family basically - well, let me just say I’m still available to beat any of them up. The ex and the family. You know that. But yeah. It’s taken a toll on you and you’ve not been yourself lately and it’s been painful to watch. Which is why I’ve been telling you to have some fucking fun on this tour. Put on that dress and that lipstick and get back to being yourself, yeah? And now enjoy the show and give Noah some air kisses from me, love you, bye!”

I felt dumbstruck. Had it really gotten that bad? Had everyone noticed but me? I knew I’d been struggling a bit since my last relationship drama and everything that followed (and technically preceeded) it, but… Lia’s words were ringing in my head. Maybe I had been letting myself go. It wasn’t worryingly bad, surely, but had I been my usual self? I thought I was seeing glimpses of it again now that I was on tour.

Quickly checking the schedule on my phone I realised that after today it was one more gig before a day off between Bournemouth and Birmingham. I shot Oli a message.

Aubrey

I don’t care what kinda disguise you need to go out but you need to take me clothes shopping in two days xoxo

Oli

I’ll get a fake moustache

•••

Bad Omens were a force to behold on stage. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on Noah as much as the distance would allow me to, hanging onto his every word, studying his every movement. It was mesmerising. I’d never had the pleasure of seeing them live before but I already knew I’d make sure to catch them several more times on this tour. There was simply no way around it.

The break was spent chatting to the sound tech whose name I finally learned was Becky. It turned out she was extremely passionate when it came to talking about her craft and I was a willing listener. Nothing she said made a lot of sense so far as she threw all kinds of technical terms at me, but it was fascinating to hear her explain how much of a part she and her team really played in making this an experience, rather than just a live show.

She barely managed to stop talking by the time she was nudged by someone else on her team to notify her of the performance being about to start, which left her busy for the next one hundred minutes and me with too many thoughts and no one to voice them to. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I spam-texted Oli all of them for him to find after the show.

Aubrey

Opening with darkside is bold but I love a bold man

Aubrey

I love this setlist so much

I know you showed it to me yesterday but it doesn’t compare

Also the visuals wow

Aubrey

You look very good in red btw and so does your ass

Aubrey

Cause you got a taste noooow drank the kool-aid by the juuuuug

Oh dear I hope everyone’s ok

I’m glad you’re stopping shows liberally these days to make sure

Aubrey

I said it before and I’ll say it again, strangers into diamonds is fucking insane and I don’t know who allowed you to do that

Aubrey

Antiviiiiiiist!! Tell Noah he looks good in that mask

Aubrey

Also why were you getting a headrush after that song hmmm was it performing with Noah do you love him I’d get a headrush to if I screamed with him like that and got to give him two hugs

Aubrey

Yeah the doomed montage is making me cry, fuck you

Aubrey

I hope you have fun whenever you find these messages

I promise I wasn’t drunk when I wrote them just high on live music heyyyy

•••

Walking backstage, I immediately ran into the band leaving the stage. Lee held out his hand for a high five, massive smiles all around from a successful start to the tour, and I wasn’t one to leave him hanging. It ended with everyone who came up behind him following suit on the high fives, until Oli appeared at last, who instead grabbed onto my hand and clumsily twirled me around myself. I was still stumbling over my feet, uncoordinated feet unable to keep up with the sudden movement, when he pulled me into his chest for a hug.

Oli was made of pure adrenaline. I could basically smell it radiating off him. There was laughter in my ear, exhilaration from the first show having gone well, his hands pushing against my back so tightly I had no choice but to melt into him. Any attempt at not touching his bare skin were futile as my fingers slipped under his cropped jacket. He was hot and sweaty, but I didn’t mind one bit. If anything, it awakened something more primal in me. Something that begged to claw at his skin, push him against the nearest wall, have a taste of the droplets running down his chest. I was almost glad when he let me go for fear of what my hands would do if he didn’t.

“I sent you a couple of messages during the set by the way. You can read them as a slightly unhinged bedtime story,” I explained as he nudged me to get a move on toward the dressing rooms.

“Oh I bet those will put me right to sleep,” he laughed.

“Did you actually say that you had a headrush on stage after performing with Noah?”

“Fuck, yeah, my head was fucking spinning, thought I was gonna faint.”

“Was it so stimulating be around him?” I teased, moving to tickle his side, but he quickly dodged me and fell onto the sofa alone. “Does he make your heart race?”

Oli eyed me for a moment, pushing his hair back. I tried my best to ignore how good it looked on him.

“See, you talk about him so much, I can’t tell if you wanna hook up with him or if you want to set me up with him.”

I genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t think I quite knew it myself.

[ghostofthemost141]

Custer

Pairing: Ghost x GN! Reader, no use of (Y/N), First POV

Word Count: 908

About: After an accomplished mission, Ghost is intrigued by the music he can hear you blasting in your earbuds.

Themes: None really, just a little drabble of Ghost and reader interacting.

Notes: The song featured in this short is Custer by Slipnot. Highly recommend it if heavy metal is your style! Nickname for this one is Puppy. Enjoy!

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

“Mission well done, everyone.” Price announced, gazing over all of us. 

Irreverence is my disease

It's secondhand, but you know me

The son of a bitch is on his knees

The last man standing gets no pity

We were currently heading back to our base and while everyone else was talking, I was destroying my hearing with my music. Couple of months ago, I joined Task Force 141, sworn in by Captain Price and so far I have enjoyed my stay here. Some missions are hard as fuck, take months and months to accomplish, while some others, like todays, only take a day or two to do and while I do love what I do, I also love being at our base. I keep to myself for the most part, whether I be walking outside or in my bunk reading a book while listening to music. It’s not that the guys don’t like me, I mean hell, they also invite me to play a game of pool or poker with them, most of the time I turn it down because I just want to do my own thing. You can’t really afford to make close friendships or even relationships in this line of work, you never know when something may happen to one of ‘hem. Soap can be an ass sometimes but he is cool and very outgoing. Gaz is the nicest of the lot, but can sometimes be too nice for his own good. Price is the definition of an old grumpy man, and can definitely act like one for sure, but he very much would take a bullet for one of us. Now Ghost, who happens to be sittin’ right next to me in this crowded vehicle, I haven’t figured out yet. He will mumble a hi if I am passing by or make a comment here and there, but he seems to be like me, likes to keep to himself. He is the closest with Soap by far, but even then I don’t really see them hanging around base as much as you think they would since they are close. 

You try so hard to be difficult

You want to win the war?

Know what you're fighting for

Hell yeah, it’s my favorite part. I began bumping my leg to the beat of the music as well as tapping my knee as if I was an old, country man in the West. 

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuc-

I swear I felt someone nudge my shoulder, but I didn’t pay any mind to it as I immersed myself into my music. 

-k fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fuck fuck me up

Cut cut cut me up and fuck fu-

Okay someone is definitely tapping me on the shoulder. This better be good. I pulled my earbuds out in a huff. 

“You grumpy, Puppy?” A gravelly voice asked me. 

Ghost. I sneered at him a little bit for the nickname. For some reason, the task force came up with the nickname puppy for me. The reason for it? Well that I will never know they just started calling me that one day, around the time I first started. 

“Nope.”

“Seems like ‘t.” He remarked. 

“What is it to ya?” I asked. 

“You’re gonna damage ‘our hearing listening to that bloody music that damn loud.” He commented, his big blue eyes piercing into mine. 

“Oh so you’re the one that made me put my music away?” 

“Never told you to do that.” 

Dear lord, this man. As attractive he may be, he can be a real ass sometimes. 

“What song was it?” 

Ghost? The most grumpy British man to ever exist asking me about what I was listening to? I might as well be honored. 

“Custer by Slipknot.” I answer. 

“Slipknot? What kind of band is that?” Ghost asked. 

Is this really Ghost or did he bump his head during a mission or somethin’? 

“They are a heavy metal band that started in the mid 90’s. Custer is one of their most popular songs but it is one of my favorites.” I added. 

I could tell Ghost was processing what I said because he nodded his head in response and didn’t say a word back. So it’s up to me aye? 

“What kind of music do you listen to?” I asked him. 

“Hm. Some rock, some alternative, some reggae.” Ghost listed. 

“Reggae? Really?” I questioned, not expecting that answer. 

“Hey, don’t diss Bob Marley till you try ‘im.” Ghost remarked. 

“I’ll give him a try, L.T.” I said, shoving his shoulder with mine. 

I could see he rolled his eyes in response, but in a sarcastic way. 

“And I’ll Slipkno’ a try.” 

“SlipknoT.” 

“Don’t test me puppy.” Ghost growled a little, making me laugh, in which he eventually let out a chuckle. 

Ghost is definitely not as bad as everyone seems like he is, he just needs the right person to break down his walls. 

END

[seangelfish]

WHEN THEIR S/O IS SICK

Featured characters: Kanata Yatonokami, Nayuta Yatonokami ♡ Tags: Headcanons and scenarios, fluff, established relationships, fem reader ♡ Word count: 685 ♡ Synopsis: How the twins take care of you when you're sick. A/N: Wahhh, I love them so much. I'm in love, truly.

KANATA YATONOKAMI

Kanata is never going to leave your side unless it's for something important. He berates you for getting sick, but it's only because he's extremely worried about you.

He'll spoon-feed you if you refuse to eat. He understands that you might not have an appetite right now, but he doesn't want you to starve. He even helps you when you need to drink water. As he lifts your head with one hand, the other holds the glass as he gently pours the water into your mouth.

He keeps to the schedule for when you need to take your medicine, so he reminds you each time. He'll spoon-feed you that too.

But most of the time, he'll just sit beside you – facing you. He lets you hold his hand as you drift to sleep. He won't move from his space especially if his mind is now preoccupied with many thoughts of you, hoping that you'll get better soon.

If he needs to write songs, then he'll have his laptop with him, but he'll keep by your side with headphones on, completely silent.

At times when you're asleep, he'll stroke your face, admiring how peaceful you look when you're not coughing your lungs out. He can't help but smile at this and even kisses you softly on your forehead. Thankfully, you won't ever get to witness that.

"K-Kanata..." you weakly say, reaching out for him.

He takes your hand in his. "What is it? Do you need anything?"

"Am... I... going to die?" you joke.

"Hey, don't talk like that...!" he hisses, pulling on your cheeks.

"Hehe, I'm just messing with you~" you laugh.

He sighs, squeezing your hand a little. "(Y/N), get well soon, okay?"

You smile as you bring his hand to your cheek, making him cup it. And he lets you – of course he does.

"Thank you for staying with me," you whisper.

"Mhm. I'll always stay with you."

NAYUTA YATONOKAMI

Nayuta's always been taken care of by Kanata, so it's finally his time to shine and take care of you! He wants to be seen as caring and responsible, so he'll do anything in his might to do so.

Like Kanata, he'll spoon-feed you if needed, but he's going to be really cheeky about it. He'll treat you like a kid as a joke, but he's just so fond of you that he finds the situation kind of cute.

He'll leave you alone if you need to rest, but when you wake up, he's already sitting beside you. He always greets you, asking how you're feeling. He's not one to stay beside you 24/7 because he thinks you need space, but he's always checking up on you as you never truly leave his mind.

But if you do want him to stay by your side for that long, then he will. He knows what it's like to be in your position, and having company always comforts him.

When you're awake and bored out of your mind though, he'll accompany you to watch videos on his phone together. Other times, he'll just tell you stories of his past or what he did the other day. He wants to keep you entertained, to make you laugh and smile. After all, being sick isn't fun.

He wants to hold you so bad, but he knows he can't otherwise he might get sick too. But that doesn't mean he didn't try to...

In the meantime, all he could do is draw circles on your palm; sometimes, lightly kissing your temple even when you tell him off.

"(Y/N), get well quickly, alright?" Nayuta says softly, peeling an apple for you. "I miss cuddling you..."

"Haha, is that the only reason why you want me to get better?"

"Heh, of course not. I want to see you back on your feet and healthy." He cuts the apple into slices. "Here. Now open wide~"

"Nooo, I can do it myself."

"I'm not letting you. Come on, (Y/N), be a good girl."

You roll your eyes but giggle, letting him plop the slice into your mouth.

"Thank you, Nayuta... for taking care of me."

"Anything for you," he replies, smiling.

Intro page | Paradox Live masterlist | Request rules

[kingdaddydaichi]

PICKING UP THE PIECES || k. bakugou x reader | angst to comfort/fluff | 500+ words

“Oi! You don’t take me seriously, do you? You think I’m weak for telling you all this shit, huh? Well-“

“I don’t think you’re weak, Katsuki! I know it takes massive strength for you to be real with me like this and…I fucking appreciate and admire the fuck out of you for it!” He made that noise at the bottom of his throat like he does, his dark blond eyebrows furrowing more deeply at your words. You kept on. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, and I mean more than just physically. It takes fucking courage to be unabashedly and unapologetically honest about your feelings. Hell, I wish I could be more honest about mine-“

“So why don’t you, hah? Tell me how you really fucking feel, y/n!”

“Because I’m fucking terrified!” You choked back your tears. “I’m the same as you! I don’t want you to see me as weak or needy-“

“I don’t see you as either of those things. You’re tough as fucking nails, firecracker!” Katsuki observed.

“Yeah, right up until I tell you how fucking hard I’ve fallen for you! How much I fucking need you! Okay? Fuck, I hate that I need you so much…” you sobbed. “You probably wanna run away from me now.”

“Oi! When have you ever known me to run away from a goddamn thing, y/n?! Tch!” Katsuki rolled his eyes and reached for you. “Come here,” he said softly.

“No, I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. Fuck that! I don’t need you to-“ you protested.

“I said, come here!” he grumbled through gritted teeth as he pulled you into his strong arms, folding you against his chest. “I'm not going anywhere, damn it."

You cried so fucking hard, finally allowing yourself to fall apart in Katsuki's arms, knowing full well he’d catch you and help you put yourself back together again, better. That’s what scared you the most, though: not that he might let you fall apart - that, you were used to.

Rather, you were more intimidated by the fact that Katsuki would hold you the fuck up; that he’d hold your feet to the fire and make you pick up the pieces.

“I can’t do this by myself, Katsuki,” you cried.

“You won’t have to, babe. I’m right here. I don’t care how fucking hard ya try to push me away, I’m not fucking going anywhere! Ya got that?”

You nodded against his chest, squeezing your arms tighter around his torso, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Please don’t leave me to do this on my own," you pleaded with him.

“I won’t,” he growled. “I’ve already told you I’ve got you and that I’m not going anywhere and I’m a man of my fucking word! You should know that by now..." he said, kissing the side of your head.

“You want me to tell you how I feel?” you sniffled, looking up at him with your hands flat on his chest.

His brow furrowed as he looked down to meet your gaze. “More than anything…” he croaked.

“Katsuki. I love you."

He kissed you softly on the forehead before pulling back to look at you again, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I love you, too, y/n. And I promise I’m not gonna let you fall apart. I’m not gonna let us fall apart."

[victorluvsalice]

WIP Word Game

I was tagged in this by @dont-offend-the-bees in this post -- thanks for thinking of me, Newt!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that start with each letter of that word. Word assigned by Newt: BITES

Because I'm a rebel, I'm going to do a bit from both my current WIP "Londerland Bloodlines: Downtown Queensland" and my just-finished-posting-today Valicer In The Dark story "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of" --

B

LB:DQ -- Briefcase Guy nodded, trembling. “What – what if their case is full of newspaper?” he got out after a second.

“Then at least we get to watch your illiterate ass try to read it later for laughs,” the leader spat, giving him a shove. “I know they got the goods. Just don’t ass it up, or they’re gonna kill the lot of us. Now get ready, it’s going down soon.”

SATBSO -- “By practicing my v-vows down the wrong alley,” Victor replied, worrying his bottom lip. “I – oh dear…” He grabbed his spoon and had a couple of fortifying sips of soup. “It’s like this – I’m due to be w-wed to the daughter of Lord and Lady Everglot, courtesy of my parents. We had the r-rehearsal today, and I was such a n-nervous wreck I couldn’t recall my lines at all. Pastor Galswells, our officiant, finally lost all patience with me after one too many mistakes, and b-banished me until I’d learned my vows. D-desperate to get them right, I ended up roaming Brightstone at random, repeating them to myself to try and get them straight in my head. I finally said them perfectly in an old forgotten side street overlooking one of the canals…and the moment I finished, a g-glowing blue figure in a w-wedding dress burst from the water, declaring ‘I do.’ I s-screamed and ran, but she managed to c-corner me on a nearby bridge and tried to k-kiss me. I fainted when her lips touched mine, and w-when I woke up, I was…” He waved his spoon in the air, as if trying to capture the enormity of the experience. “On the w-wrong side of the veil.”

I

LB:DQ -- “Indeed – or you could avoid the issue entirely,” Cheshire said, floating his smile over to another ladder on the wall in the darkened bay, just barely visible in the gloom. “I’m sure Rabbit would approve of you taking a shortcut, especially in order to avoid detection by anything that might try to stomp you.”

“I’ve apologized for that!” Hatter put in. “And made him that new watch!”

“It was the least you could do,” Rabbit said, paws on hips.

SATBSO -- “I don’t know – I don’t think so,” Victor said, letting his hands drop. “But you’re right, it is very hard to tell time in the ghost field…I’m sorry too, Emily,” he continued in a quieter voice. “I – I shouldn’t have lied to you about w-wanting to see my parents. I should have tried to explain better what was really wrong. But I – I didn’t have the words, and I was so scared and hungry and cold, and…” He sighed heavily, pressing his fingers against his forehead. “And absolutely nothing today has gone according to plan.”

“I know the feeling.” Emily perked up, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips. “But – but we can still make this work, right? We can alternate which side of the field we’re on day by day, so you can still eat and drink and not have to worry! We can even find a nice place to set up house together – one that’s in good shape in both my world and yours!”

“I think anyone who sees you two house-shopping is going to call the Spirit Wardens on you,” Alice couldn’t help saying.

T

LB:DQ -- “True,” Alice nodded. “Which reminds me – at some point tonight, I need to drop in on a certain Sean Milton. I don’t know how much honor there really is among thieves, but hopefully he has very little and will be willing to give up Muddy without a fight.”

“We’ll see on that front – and back, come to think of it,” Cheshire remarked, tail swaying as he kept pace. “But one side-quest at a time.”

SATBSO -- The gondolier gave Emily, floating near the prow, a significant look. “They always go up when the dead are involved.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Emily said, tone sulky and sparks crackling along the edge of her veil.

“And don’t start now,” the gondolier warned, frowning. “I may not be a Warden, but every one of us has got a bit of the Whisper about us. I know how to handle you lot.”

E

LB:DQ -- “Even better – they’re real robots! Well, sort of. . .” Victor popped open a bin and picked out a blue butterfly at random, showing her a block with some buttons on the – thorax, she believed it was called. “They each come with a ‘brain block’ like this where you can input simple commands. Obviously I can’t get any of them to fly – though I’ve always hoped – but I can get them to flap their wings if I shine a light on them, or follow a light being held in front of them – even play with a ball.”

“Neat,” Alice said, grinning. “You’ll have to show me later.”

SATBSO -- Emily went still, a frozen figure in tattered blue. Then she rushed forward at a speed no living human could have ever managed, face contorted in pure fury. Barkis yelped and tried to get out of the way, but she managed to clamp one spectral hand around his arm –

And, suddenly, she wasn’t there anymore. A split-second later, Barkis bent double, shrieking. “What – stop! No!”

“Yes!” came Emily’s voice – from Barkis’s own lips. Alice stared as he straightened up, wobbling like he was unused to controlling his own body. “The knife dropped from his fingers with a clatter. “You’re mine now, Eddie!”

S

LB:DQ -- She got to the bottom of the slope and looked around. While the layout was roughly the same, the entrance to level two was noticeably darker, thanks to a busted light fixture in the nearest “compact” bay. It also had different guards – two fellows who looked to be Chinese, dressed in matching burgundy jackets and wielding machine guns. One jerked his head around as she snuck closer, causing her to freeze out of habit. “It’s too quiet,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. “I-I don’t like this – this place. At night it seems so – haunted.”

SATBSO -- Smiler sorted and pointed at their eyes, brilliant yellow in their pale face. “What, do you think I was born with these?”

“...actually, it has genuinely never occurred to me to question why your eyes are bright glowing yellow before now,” Alice confessed, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “They just seemed – completely natural on you.”

“I – I mean, I noticed, but – given everything else that was going on, they – didn’t really register as that weird?” Victor admitted, also going pink. “Alice is right, they do suit you...I sort of thought they might be a side effect of that Joy Serum you showed me before, since you said you make it yourself.”

Tagging: @nebbychan, @thesatiricaldemon, @anonymoose-au, @ace-of-tales -- the word I'm picking is TIMES!

[runnning-outof-time]

Hello, K!! ♥️

I'm here for the gif blurb! As always, there is no obligation to do so, nor any rush. It's just a game 😁.

You can choose one of the gifs or both! It's your choice! ♥️.

Have fun!

🌸

(no kidding this the 4th time I try to send you gifs 😂. I don't know what's happening! I sent the other asks without problem 🤷‍♀️. I hope this time...)

Thanks so much for sending this in Flor! I’m sorry it took a bit for me to get to. The scene is mostly based off of the line stated in the first gif, but I managed to add the line from the second in at the end. - I had an entirely different idea laid out for this, but then this idea randomly came to me while driving yesterday so I ran with it. I hope you enjoy! 🥰

———

Try Again

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: none

Tommy might have bitten off more than he can chew with this new business associate.

“Not everything modern is good, now, is it?”

“I love that you can say that about me and the position I hold while knowing full-well that you wouldn’t be half the man you are today without the help of your aunt,” (Y/N) responded, her eyes zeroed on in him; his statement not even making her flinch. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her statement. “Mmm…you think I didn’t know that Polly was the person speaking wisdom into your ears? And what about your sister…Ada, is it? Seems pretty modern for her to have such overt beliefs on different political ideologies,” she continued, resting her chin on her hand then as she looked at him from across the desk.

“What are you getting at?” he asked her, his brows now furrowed.

“I’m getting at the blatant disrespect that you’re displaying towards myself and the moves that my company is trying to make…saying that me being the head of this sector is ‘too modern’ and that ‘not all modern is good’ while you are giving the women in your family the opportunities to step outside of the predetermined roles that society has bestowed upon them,” she told him exactly what was on her mind, not caring enough to add poise to her words.

Tommy looked at her for a few moments, letting her words sink in. He then looked away and took a deep breath before finally responding: “so you’re saying I should give you a chance?”

(Y/N) was ready with a response within seconds, “no. I’m saying that you should acknowledge the fact that the moves that I’ve made could very well alter your business’ trajectory, and that aligning your interests with mine might help you.” Tommy pursed his lips in response to her words. “You seem unsure,” she commented on his nonverbal reaction.

“I am,” he agreed with her observation.

“The 30s are a new decade. It’s looking bright for us women. Maybe you should take a chance and side with me. Doing something ‘modern’ might not hurt after what happened to you in America,” she said then, her words coming out in an almost saccharine tone. She watched his expression change to one of shock at the mention of the money he’d lost due to the stock market crashing. “Oh you didn’t think I knew about that?” she looked at him with an expression of feigned shock, holding it for a moment before it melted into a grin, “who do you think told that darling cousin of yours to hold on instead of selling? Pretty tough for him to make his own choices with me in his ear,” she dropped the bomb, her words making Tommy sit up straight in his chair.

He wanted to lash out at her for her admission. He wouldn’t have thought that she could have a hand in his major losses. His anger was boiling higher by the second. But he had to remain composed. So he slowly sat back and clasped his hands over his midriff, taking a deep breath before he finally uttered a response to her perfectly articulated comments. “You must be forgetting, (Y/N), that the only person who can fuck over Tommy Shelby…is Tommy Shelby himself,” a slight grin was on his lips by the time he finished speaking.

(Y/N) had to stifle her laughter. She didn’t say anything in response initially. Instead, she sat with her eyes trained on him and watched as the realization of what he’d actually said finally hit him. Before he was able to say anything, however, she stood from the chair and worked on fastening the button on her blazer. “Well said, babe,” she handed him a backhanded compliment as her grin grew, “maybe you wanna rethink that statement and then come and find me…so that you could try again,” she finished her statement with a smile that teetered on the borderline of cocky before she turned on her heel and began walking to the door.

She left the office before Tommy could counter with a response of his own. He hung his head the second the door shut and exhaled a sigh. What had he gotten himself into now?, he thought to himself. And better yet…how was he going to get himself out of it?

———

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

[raestarz]

Rookie Hour

Chapter One - Welcome to Raccoon City.

A/N: Gonna keep it real I haven’t written in years since the days of Wattpad but I’m trying to adapt😭 Kyaire is very much black and I love her with all my heart :)

Ty @neteyamsmunch for inspiring me to post something that I already wrote😭

Word count: 1.6 k

————————————————————————

It was raining, but honestly what was new? I was walking down the road after buying some blunts. I see a cop car pull up to the side of the road where I was and roll down the passenger window. It was a man driving and a woman in the passenger seat, she was pretty with brown hair and blue eyes and the man that was driving was, well he was handsome…Not like a runway model type handsome or something you see in a porno magazine. But, like..he was a pretty boy handsome. I already noticed his blonde hair and blue eyes. Shit. He looked so…like he knew nothing. Well this shithole was gonna hit him right in the face. After a couple of moments of the pair looking back at me and me looking back at them, “Can I help you two…? Or do you guys just always stare at random people?” I ask sort of annoyed. I was already having a shitty day, I didn't need to have two shitty tourists bothering me as well.

The man cleared his throat, “I just…wanted to say I think you should hop in there’s…some pretty dangerous stuff going on around here.” I laughed at his response, “Yeah, like what?” I ask getting closer to their car and smirking. The woman cuts in tired and impatient, “Look, there’s some damn monsters back there where we just came from, eat your face type. I think you might wanna cut the snippy attitude and get in.” I roll my eyes and groan under my breath, “Fine.” I mutter and get into the back seat of the car near the drivers’ side incase, this man was clinically insane. Like, you guys have seen shit like that right? Bro, might crash the fucking car on purpose. Closing the door behind me, I cross my arms and sit back, kind of happy that I’m in a dry area. “Nice to meet you both, welcome to Hell.” I state plainly as the man starts to drive toward the city. The woman laughed softly as I made my comment, “It can’t be that bad,” I snort at her hopefulness.

“It can be indeed.” I respond and sit back. We all sat in amazing silence for a couple of minutes. The woman looks back worried about something, before she finally speaks, “What the hell is going on?” He looks back for a moment as well before responding, “I don’t know…Hopefully they’ll have some answers at the police station.” This peaks my interest and I sit forward, “Wait, you're a cop?” The man takes a breath, “Yeah, Leon Kennedy. You are…?” The woman responds first enthusiastically for some damn reason, I don’t understand how she could if this dire situation is…Real. “Claire ─ Claire Redfield.” She sits back, still looking around worried causing me to start to be a little fucking worried too, these two seem too damn calm about this shit. Claire looks back at me, as if she’s expecting me to introduce myself as well, “I’m Kyaire ─ Kyaire Birkin.” Leon nods in acknowledgement of the names, “So uh…either of you live around here?” I smirk, “Isn’t it obvious I live around here?” I ask sarcastically.

Claire interjects, “No, looking for my brother. He’s a cop, too.” Leon looks at Claire with a soft smile, “Well, it’s a good thing we found each other then. I don’t know what to expect anymore…” Leon finally looked a little damn shaken up and I looked out the window, spotting the “Welcome to Raccoon City; Home of Umbrella.” I scoff at how ironic it would be if my adoptee parents were somehow involved in this epidemic.

…

The three of us finally get into the city, and holy fucking shit it looks like Hell. Cars crashed, bodies piled up, random things burning, I gasp softly thinking of Sherry who my adoptee parents stupidly left at fucking home. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I grab my head thinking, praying I can find my little sister in this mess. I hear an announcement over the intercoms in the city, “Attention all citizens: Due to the citywide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City police station.” I take in more of the surroundings as we pass by, just more crashed cars and of course rain, this shit is never ending… I start to drown out the emergency announcement and I hear Leon and Claire talking but I’m so focused thinking about Sherry and how worried I am about her. I take a breath, she’s a smart kid, hopefully she was smart enough to stay home. I finally hear their voices back in focus hearing Claire’s doubtful voice, “Yeah, but what if we’re the only ones? What if there’s no survivors ─” Leon immediately interrupts her, his voice stern but hopeful the complete opposite of Claire, “No. There’s survivors. It’s a big city…there has to be.”

I lean forward and say, “There’s definitely survivors, these people are like roaches, never dying.” Leon nods toward me, “See even the emo kid, has some hope so you should too Claire.” Claire grimaces slightly and sits back, we reach a blockade that blocks the rest of traffic and Leon clicks the car into park, “Looks like we’re walking from here.” I look out the window and see two literal human fucking beings chewing into another one, I bite back a fucking SCREAM. Because what in the literal fuck, I guess Claire notices my look of panic, and matches it as she looks at the scene I’m witnessing as well. The pair of zombies look in our direction, “More like running.” I state plainly. Leon turns his head and sees the scene, “Yeah, good call.” He mutters. Zombie’s pop up and jump on the windows, scaring the shit out of all of us, Claire yells, “Jesus Christ!” And leans back from the window and I let out a small scream from zombies showing up even more, fuck this is like Night of the Living dead, “Leon! We gotta back up!” I shout, Leon responds with a right, and puts the gear in reverse. I turn back and see lights behind us, “Holy fucking shit!” I shout, and Claire whips her head around and sees exactly what I see, a big ass FUCKING truck approaching us looking as if it wasn’t gonna stop, Leon eventually turns and looks as well, muttering, “Holy shit!” I kind of snort at his response. Leon acts quickly, “Guys get out! Get out NOW!” We all start pushing on the doors to get out of the police car, it quickly becoming a death trap other than a safe haven. The zombies pushing back against the doors, trying to get in and well obviously eat us alive. I start to panic somewhat, “I can’t!”

Leon looks back and shouts, “Hold on!” I quickly grab onto the headrest of the driver's seat and whatever the hell else I can grab before this truck collides with us. The truck finally collides into us, which makes us collide into the barricade. The truck topples over, and we crash into the side of another car, I silently start to climb out of the car opening the backdoor of the car and see Leon open it as well, we both fall to the floor for a moment. Leon gets up quicker than me and grabs my hand lifting me up, “C’mon we gotta go…” We both start to limp away from the crashed police car as soon as we get far enough it explodes, Leon covering the both of us with his arm, “Woah!” He gasps and looks down at me as we both stand up straight, “You okay?” I nod silently and Leon looks over, he gasps, “Oh no.” I look over as well and we both try to run away from the nearly ready to explode truck. And the truck explodes knocking Leon into a nearby car and me further back onto the street, “Fuck.” I grunt and get up slowly then Leon runs to me and softly pulls me to my feet despite his own self grunting in pain from the explosion.

Leon looks around the fire and I notice Claire isn’t with us, Leon does as well, “CLAIRE!” He steps forward looking around the fire, blinking through the rain. I grip my side and look around the fire as well, feeling unable to speak, just too out of breath, Leon continues to yell through the fire, “CLAIRE, YOU OK!?” I sigh, starting to think she’s dead until she responds, “YEAH! I’M ALRIGHT! HOW ABOUT YOU GUYS!?” I look around seeing zombies come out through the fire and I nudge Leon pointing, “Hey, rookie.” Leon seethes in annoyance from the zombies popping up, “WE CAN’T STAY HERE! IT’S NOT SAFE!” Claire seems to acknowledge his response, “GO ON AHEAD! I’LL MEET YOU GUYS AT THE STATION!” I huff and respond, “WE’LL BE THERE!” I glance at Leon and see him pull out his handgun shooting two zombies in the head so we can get around and run to the station.

…

We finally get to that station, I run in first and Leon runs in behind me. I'm panting out of breath as Leon takes both hands to close the gate sliding the bar into the lock position. The zombies bang on the gate, I stop panting and full stand up turning toward the huge police station in front of us “Kyaire, are you ok…?” Leon asks, putting a hand on my shoulder, I nod. “Are you?” I ask, giving him a once over making sure he isn’t broken, he nods back giving me a small smile. Well fuck, his smile could light up a room and it’s only a small one. I turn away from Leon and look back to the station.

Fuck…I can tell this is gonna be a long night.

[super-unpredictable98]

Leaving Marks | The Umbrella Academy AU

Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ Verse)

Word Count: 2,2 k

Warning: Strong language, angst, pregnancy talk

a/n: So after I saw the translation for Klaus' temple tattoo I knew I had to write this. I hope you all feel as much as I felt when I was writing it

(Masterlist)

Life was weird, it was hard to adjust after everything that happened. After a lifetime of thinking they knew who they were, all the former Umbrella kids were tossed into the world without an identity, without powers.

After a quick checkup with the doctor, it was confirmed that Victoria and Klaus were expecting a baby (who they believed was a girl based on their father's extraterrestrial prediction).

The pregnancy was going well and they didn't seem to have much to worry about except, of course, a quick trip to the courthouse to make their wedding official and start planning their honeymoon to Rio de Janeiro as soon as they had the money.

"Shit! I'm all bruised again..." Vicky groaned, sitting on the couch and taking a look at her legs. "Not being indestructible sucks! Do people always get hurt this much?"

"Not really, you just never had to worry about it before so you walk around bumping into everything," Klaus laughed, taking her leg to kiss the bruises.

"Everything fucking hurts, how are people just living their lives? Literally everything I do hurts!" She huffed. "I take something out of the oven, I fall, I scratch myself somewhere, I hold a paper the wrong way, I'm not careful enough shaving... your bodies are so fragile! I hate it!"

"Well, most people deal with this since they were born, we don't really think about it."

Klaus was amused by her frustration, only because it was adorable to watch her figure out what was safe and what wasn't with her new vulnerable flesh. For once he was useful, he could help her avoid injuries or make her feel better when she got hurt.

"Speaking of hurt, did you... did you wanna get your tattoos back?" Victoria asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, I haven't really thought about it," Klaus teased. "I might just want to keep my body clean."

"Nooooo I miss them..." she whined. "It's only five of them!"

"Six actually, I had the umbrella on my wrist, the tiger, the skull, the palm tattoos, and Dave's temple."

Victoria sat up with the most confused look on her face. What did he just say?

"Did I hear it right? Dave's temple? What do you mean?"

"It's Thai I think, I got it done when I was with him."

"And what does it say?" She asked, suddenly very queasy.

"Um... it says Klaus loves Dave," he admitted, thinking it would be better she heard from him than googling it later and finding out he lied.

Victoria stared at him agape, seething with anger that raised up her chest. Her husband immediately noticed and winced, scared of her reaction.

"What the FUCK DID YOU DO?" Her voice was raised along the sentence until she was screaming. "KLAUS, HOW COULD YOU? AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?"

"To be very honest, I don't even remember getting this tattoo at all, I don't remember if I asked for the writing or if Dave did... I was so drunk," Klaus chuckled, not really understanding the severity of the can or worms he just opened. He thought laughing it off would make it better, as it usually does.

Victoria felt as if her heart was ripped out of her chest. She was there too, she was in Vietnam for 10 months stripping to have a roof over her head and he didn't seem to miss her enough to want anything to remember her by.

It felt like a betrayal not only because he had an ex's name on his body, but also because this ex had treated Klaus like shit the last time they met and that was something she could never forgive.

"And in all this time you couldn't have made a tattoo for me? Guess you don't love me that much after all," she murmured.

"We're married, we have a baby on the way! I've been pining after you since we were little kids. How can I not love you?" Klaus clutched his chest, feeling quite hurt by her doubt, but knowing her pregnancy hormones certainly played a big role in how this discussion was progressing.

"Right? I thought you did too, crazy how wrong we can be sometimes..."

"I never got a tattoo of your name because you always told me you thought it was lame! I wanted to when we moved out, remember?"

It was true, he asked her what she'd think of him tattooing her name on his forearm along with his in a heart like a carving on a tree two lovers would do as children.

She refused and said that was incredibly tacky, he disagreed, but never brought it up again.

"That doesn't mean you can just go and get someone else's name!" She screamed, leaving him behind while caressing her stomach.

"Liebchen, falls ich wissen sollte was Liebe bedeutet, liegt es an dir*," Klaus followed as he whispered in her ear. "Ich will für immer bei dir sein**."

"Stop it!" Vicky whined. "I don't wanna be charmed right now!"

"Do you want me to get a tattoo for you?" He finally asked, maybe she would finally agree to the carved heart idea.

"No! Nothing you can get will ever top this massive temple on your stomach! It's huge and you've done it first. I can't believe I had sex with you looking at that!"

"I will close my back with your face if that makes you happy, I'll get your name in bold letters on my forehead, I'll get a 'property of Victoria Maria Hargreeves' on my ass! Just please tell me how to make you happy? I wanna fix this."

"Well too bad, you can't make me happy, Klaus!"

That was a first, not once had Vicky been so unforgiving. He was somewhat used to getting away with everything when it came to her, she would make excuses even for his stupidest behaviors.

It was a punch in the gut to hear that, especially being so full of trauma as he was. She had left him once back when they were younger, what would stop her from taking a job in another country and taking their child away? Maybe she was done with him and he would once again lose someone he loved more than himself.

That idea brought tears to his eyes and an almost unbearable pain to his chest. He wanted to drink, he wanted to smoke, he wanted to get his hands on any sort of drug he could find and get high enough to forget everything, but he couldn't. He was a father now.

"I did love Dave, but you know there wasn't a single moment I didn't think of you back then," Klaus dropped to his knees in front of her. "Yeah, he made me see I could be brave and strong. You were always brave for me and much stronger, you were my shield and he showed me I could stand on my own and maybe even protect you someday."

"That man punched you in the face, he came by just to tell you off! How can you see someone like that as anything more than a bigot?" Victoria cried, turning away, not wanting to face him.

"Not everyone has the privilege of knowing who they are and being able to express it like me," he shrugged. "I'm not angry at him as much as I'm angry at the world that made him feel like that's how he should treat me."

"I'm mad at him, it was his fist on your face, not anyone else's."

Klaus nodded, she had all the right to feel this way. He understood and wanted to say that, but he was terrified of saying the wrong thing and prompting her to leave again. He couldn't stand losing her a fifth time.

"Victoria, I'm sorry," he took her hand and kissed it repeatedly. "I know I hurt your feelings and I don't deserve it. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you're probably the reason why I'm even alive. I'd never be able to take all the abuse without you there. I'm s-sorry," he sobbed.

Vicky couldn't help how misty-eyed she got as well, the first memory she had of him came into her mind.

They were probably around three or four, they were playing with paper dolls they drew themselves while Grace watched from her charging station.

"I wanna marry a big strong man and have two babies, a boy and a girl," she said.

"I'll be a big strong man!" Klaus pouted, his lip quivering with jealousy at the idea she might be imagining someone else.

"What? Who do you wanna marry?" She asked.

Klaus took their dolls and made them kiss, imitating the noise with his mouth. "I wanna marry a Vicky!"

Pulled back to the present, Victoria looked down at the pitiful look on her husband's face and pulled him into her arms.

He sighed, crying even harder and placing his hand on her stomach. "Do you forgive me?" He asked.

"When have I ever been able to stay angry at you? It hurts so bad that you didn't do anything for me, but-"

"If I knew for a second that's what you wanted, I would have! I swear!"

She looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "If you wanna get the temple again with the rest of your tattoos, that's okay."

"No, I won't do that," Klaus shook his head, the idea of hurting her again was too painful. "The past is in the past. I'm forever grateful for him and what he did for me, but you and Fortune are my future."

That night Klaus went out to get dinner, hoping some junk food would cheer Vicky up. On the way, he stopped by a beautiful garden in the park and sat down.

He carefully took off Dave's dog tags and held them close to his heart once more. He then dug a hole among the flowers with his fingers and placed the necklace there, covering it as best as he could.

"I think this is a nice spot for you to rest," Klaus smiled to himself. "Thank you, Dave, for everything. I'm sorry I couldn't save you, but you saved me."

——————————————————

That week Klaus tried to be extra loving, he did everything to show Vicky she meant the world to him and he loved her with all his heart and soul. He cooked (badly, but still), cleaned, took every chance to compliment her, kiss her, cuddle her...

When his tattoo appointment finally came, he had already decided he wanted to make a nice surprise for his wife. Or two.

So on the first day, he got the tiger on his back, the Sky Soldiers skull on his arm, the hello and goodbye on his palms, and even the umbrella on his wrist (something he really wanted, as to never forget where he came from and the pain he endured).

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and Vicky thought that was it. Only a couple of weeks after, Klaus went back for his second appointment while his wife worked on her new business. She had been very busy with everything regarding the bakery she was planning to open, something she wanted since she was 12.

"Hey, Liebling! How are we doing today?" He came back a few hours later with the biggest smile on his face.

"Great, can you try this?" She offered him a cinnamon roll from the tray she had just pulled out of the oven.

"It'll be my pleasure," Klaus took a large bite and moaned, rolling his eyes. "Oh, my God! This is so good, you haven't lost your touch."

"Thank you, but you're not just saying that? It needs to be good enough to sell," Victoria asked hesitantly.

"I promise you, it's perfect. I'd buy a dozen right now," he insisted, taking another bite. "It's really buttery, the perfect amount of cinnamon, so soft.."

"Aww I'm glad! You can eat as many as you want, just save some space for dinner," she winked at him as she washed her hands. " What would you like, by the way?"

"Oh well, anything that isn't too greasy, also no pork for me," Klaus smirked. "Not until I heal."

"Heal? What did you do?" She asked.

He simply unbuttoned his flowy blouse and exposed his back where he had now a tarot card.

"The Wheel of Fortune," Vicky murmured with a soft chuckle. "That is so sweet! I bet she'll love it and I do too."

"Oh but that's not all," he pulled the sleeve to expose his forearm.

Klaus had a pretty big tattoo of a rectangular window, the window from their first flat which went from floor to ceiling. He also had the skyline that was visible from their living room and in front of it, his silhouette dancing with Victoria's just like they used to do when they were kids.

"Klausie! This is... this is so beautiful," Vicky choked on her words, overwhelmed with emotion. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Why not? I love you," he giggled. "See? They are dancing together forever, they'll never ever be apart, just like I wish we never had."

Without another word, she jumped into his arms capturing his lips passionately. That was so much better than anything she could've come up with, it was the most romantic thing he had ever done. Declaring his love and saying so much without even needing words.

"So I take it you liked it?" Klaus grinned, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love it... You're a big strong man, Klausie. You're my dream come true."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @seanfalco @salvador-daley @firstpersonnarrator

*I only know what love is because of you

** I want to be with you forever

[idabbleincrazy]

Never a Wish Better Than This Ch. 4

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clex

Word Count: 3760

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, masturbation, foreplay, rimming, anal play, oral, deep throating, face fucking

Summary: time for a little show and tell

A/N: look who finally got to the smut! at least one more chapter coming, maybe more. and i've a feeling this will lead to a series that rewrites the tail-end of s4 and probably going into s5.

Lex's POV:

Christ, he's beautiful like this. The urge to see him keeps my eyes from staying closed as I kiss him like his saliva is quenching the thirst I felt back on that island. And, I know I'm babbling again, words bitten out in harsh whispers between licks into that supple, pliant mouth, but I don't give a damn. I've wanted this for so long, dreamed of this a thousand different ways, and the reality is so much more than I ever could've prepared for. 

Hearing he was jealous of Victoria, of Desiree, of Helen, of all the flirtations and dalliances in-between, made me harder than I've been all night. That he had had feelings for me, just about as long as I'd had feelings for him…that he's been thinking about this for so long…

"Tell me", I husk out against his lips. "Tell me what you think about, what you imagine when you're alone at night, up there in the privacy of that loft. Wanna hear what you jerk off to, Clark. Tell me."

And I do want to hear it, now that I know I'm in those fantasies. I hear him gasp at the request, his hips bucking up into mine. He's as hard as I am, I can feel it through all the layers between us, and I can't hold back a groan. 

"Shit." 

Why is it so inexplicably hot to hear Clark curse? To know I've finally made him use his big boy words. Wanna hear more of those words that would probably make him blush again if he weren't already too hard to care.

"Tell me."

"'K, yeah…Christ, which do you wanna start with? What I imagine doing to you, or what I imagine you doing to me? Or, what I picture when I think of you, all alone in this huge-ass mansion, and how you might look when you jerk-off? So much to choose from, Lex, tell me where to start."

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Maybe it was a bad idea, after all, asking him to give details…might not last to actually play out either of our imaginings. I'll give it a valiant fucking effort, though. Luthor image to maintain here. And then, the idea pops into my head, a way to get us both some relief, without embarrassment; I've no doubt his teenage libido will have him ready for another go in no time, and my own refractory period is still a testament to my youth. 

Giving Clark one more hard kiss, I force myself off his lap, my cock twitching at the grunt of loss he makes, his hands reaching for me as I twist away and sprawl myself across the other side of the bed. 

"Tell me what you imagine me doing when I'm on my own, Clark. Tell me, and I'll show you it, exactly as you describe." I turn my head towards him, taking in the look of aroused surprise on his face. Pupils so blown, there's barely a thin ring of sparkling green around them. "Oh, and Clark? Feel free to touch yourself while you talk."

Clark's POV:

Jesus Christ, I'm so turned on right now, I can barely think, and he wants me to talk? To tell him what I picture him doing to himself? My cock is aching against the zipper of my jeans, and I can feel all the words I never say aloud coating my tongue, trying to force themselves past my lips. Have to remind myself that I'm an adult now, those words are no longer forbidden. Need to try one out, see if it gets the same reaction as the first…

"Fuck, Lex." And, oh, yeah, his eyes flutter closed for a second, like he's savoring the sound of my voice saying those two words. Like he knows that's exactly what I want, to fuck Lex. "God, when I picture you, alone, hard, and so fucking needy…sometimes, you're in your office, but sometimes, you're in your bed, spread out just like now. Not ready for sleep yet, so you're still wearing clothes. But not for long."

"Good."

Can't help a chuckle at that, at his eagerness to be naked for me.

"You like to tease yourself, in my mind, so you do it slowly, unbuttoning your shirt one at a time." Except he's not wearing a button-up this time, so he improvises, lifting the hem of his shirt up, little by little, baring an ever-widening strip of pale flesh to my gaze. "Yeah, such a tease, Lex, just like always."

He slides the shirt up, up and further still, my eyes taking in each inch of revealed flesh. His belly button, that I just wanna lick into. Subtle abs I want to trace over with lips and teeth. And nipples, pink little nubs that I ache to bite at, tease them into hardness. God, he's beautiful.

"Take it off, Lex."

He lets out a moan at the firm command and immediately complies; I file that away for later contemplation. The shirt flies over at me and there's a smirk playing on his lips as I catch it with a low growl. 

"I don't recall saying that you're in a playful mood right now."

He merely shrugs and stretches back out against the sheets, his hands stroking along the comforter, head nestled into the pillow. I look over the long planes of skin revealed to me, and get the sense that he's preening. I bite back a groan and get back to the task.

"When I think of you like this, once your shirt is off, you start toying with yourself, like you're seeing how much you can take, how long you can wait until it's too much." Lex takes a little initiative and strokes a hand along the side closest to me, long, thin fingers sweeping up his torso. "Sometimes, you let out this sexy moan of need, and start plucking at your nipples, tugging at them, makin' 'em all pretty and perky. Yeah, like that, all flushed and waiting for teeth to sink right into them."

Another moan, unbidden, escapes that kiss-reddened mouth of his, and I have to cup myself, squeeze my dick to stop from losing control. 

"Clark…"

"Yeah, you do that in my head, too. Call out my name so fucking needy like that. One hand twisting at your tits", and Christ, when did my tongue become so bold, "the other slipping down your stomach, teasing along the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping just under it."

My hand rubs at my groin as I watch him follow my instructions, his neck arching back, soft sounds of pleasure falling from his lips almost constantly. I can feel heat starting to rise behind my eyes, and I hurry to tamp it down. He's not even completely naked yet, and already my control is straining. 

"You unbuckle your belt, open your pants, just a little, just enough to relieve the pressure some." He does, and I'm not surprised to see he's not wearing anything under the slacks; I am surprised by the sparse layer of red hairs there. Arms, armpits, and chest, so far he's been completely hairless, so the change is a little shocking. "Sl-slipping your hand inside, you give yourself a short stroke, just a taste of what you want, and you can't help but buck up into it. Always so fucking hot when you do that."

He does, and I can see how it pains him to rein in his need, to not just keep stroking till he comes. 

"Oh, God, Clark…baby, please."

I gasp at the pet name, surprisingly aroused at him calling me anything other than Clark, or Kent. I like it more than I thought I would. 

"You keep it up though, teasing your nipples, other hand only stroking down your aching cock", loud, drawn-out moan from that, "every minute or so, never enough, until you're squirming against the sheets, like you're trying to get away from the torture. Only then, when you're so hard you can't stand it, only then do you slip off your pants."

Lex groans loudly in relief and scrabbles to hurry out of his slacks, kicking them carelessly off the bed and flopping back against the mattress. His legs are spread, knees bent and feet braced against the bed, and I scoot over to the end of the bed, facing him, taking it all in. He's completely open to me like this, his long cock hard, pointing up towards his stomach and leaking, the head red and painful looking. The base is surrounded by a thin sprinkling of the fine red hairs, same as his balls below it. I can just see the curve of his ass, the shadowed crevice that hides the spot I want to bury myself in. His legs, like the rest of him, are hairless, sleek and pale, deceptively lean, and I can see the powerful muscles in his thighs clench as he shifts slightly under my scrutiny. I wanna touch him, want to taste him. But I resist, and continue the game, my voice huskier than I've heard it even in the back alleys and clubs of Metropolis. 

"You stroke yourself more steadily, now, your other hand sliding down to cup your balls, rolling them. My name falls from your lips again, not quite begging, not yet, but still so sweet." It does, and it is. He's scooted further up the bed, to brace his back against the headboard, legs still spread, and my eyes flicker between the motion of his hands and the wanton look on his face. And, dammit, I've got to stop reading Lois' trashy romance novels, I shouldn't even know that word. "That's it, Lex, just like that. This, this is when you start to imagine me there, kneeling just like this, in front of you, just out of reach. In your head, I find you too hot, too much, and I just sit there staring, watching you pleasure yourself. I won't touch without being asked, and you don't ask yet, but you want to see me, too, so like a good little fantasy-Clark, a blink of your eyes and my shirt is gone."

I super-speed out of my shirt before he can even follow through on the order, my chest bare before his eyes flutter all the way shut. His hands stutter in their rhythm for a beat, a gasp followed by a low groan as he roves his gaze over me. 

"Don't stop, don't speed up. You never speed up, not yet, not till you see everything." My hands are on my jeans now, fingers slowly undoing the button, slipping the zipper down, tooth by tooth. Oh, God, he whimpered. My dick is throbbing now, and I'm afraid to even touch it enough to pull it out of my boxers, don't wanna go off before I see him come for me. It's a close call, and his responding hungry growl at the sight of my cock nearly 'causes me to set the curtains on fire, but I bite my lip hard and manage, barely. "You keep stroking as you watch me watching you, your other hand drifting down, between your legs. You tease yourself there for a minute, your fingertip just circling 'round the rim. You see my eyes glued to where your finger is hidden, hear the groan of need, and know what I want. And you give it to me, spread yourself open more, so I can see all of you."

The hand around his shaft grips tightly at the base, but he does as bidden, gripping just beneath a thigh to part those pert cheeks, revealing the perfect pucker hidden between them. It clenches and unclenches as I stare, and I can just see his hand resume pumping out of the corner of my eye. Want him. Wanna touch and taste and feel. 

"You're so close now, and I haven't even touched you yet. And you want it now, want me to come closer, wanna feel my hands replace yours, feel my mouth on you. You always want it, now, and that's when you beg."

That's all the permission he needs, and the babble turns back on, everything spilling out that he's kept in so far, his hand slowing again.

"Clark, please. I want it, baby, I do. Christ, so much. So fucking hot, Clark, hearing you talk like this…didn't know you had it in you. Fuck, baby, touch me, suck me, anything…want your sweet fucking mouth, those strong fucking hands…c'mon, Clark, show me, show me how it happens in your fantasy. What that Clark does to that Lex. Show me."

Lex's POV:

And he does. Oh, God, he does. His clothes are gone completely in a blur and he's kneeling between my wide-spread legs. Jesus, he's gorgeous, all golden skin and sweeping planes of hard muscle. And that cock…fuck, that cock…knew he'd be big, but like everything else about him, it exceeds expectations. At least two inches longer than mine, and thicker than I think I've ever seen outside of porn. Uncut, too, the foreskin nearly completely retracted from the ruddy, leaking head. 

I lose track of taking inventory of his enticing figure as his hand replaces mine on my cock. Can't help the cry of surprise as his warm fingers grip almost painfully tight around the shaft, starting a slow, firm stroke, his thumb swiping over the slit, smearing the pre-cum that bubbles up anew under his ministrations. 

"Oh, baby…yeah, touch me, please, taste me."

He smirks up at me, and oh, I've awoken a monster; that wolfish twist has never played along those plump lips for me before. His eyes lock on mine as he lowers his head, his tongue flicking out to rasp over the head of my cock.

"Fuck!"

"Soon, Lex. Soon."

I bark out a shaky laugh at his very un-Clark-like tease, the sound turning into a groan as he licks me again, swirling his tongue around the tip, collecting the fresh drops of pre-cum with a hum of pleasure. He's still fisting me slowly, his other hand sliding up my thigh and over, cupping my balls, squeezing them gently between thick fingers. I try to buck up into his mouth as he teases, but he pulls away, turning his head to press hot kisses to the juncture where thigh meets hip. I did not just whimper?! God, I haven't felt this much of a needy slut since my teen years, when I was just learning all the pleasures to be had, but I can't help it, don't even want to hold back the sounds anymore, not when he so obviously enjoys it.

Clark gives a quick nip to my inner thigh, and dips his head again, but not to my cock. I feel the slick wet of that devious muscle lave over my tightening sac, and down, over the sensitive strip of skin beneath my balls. His shoulders nudge my legs wider as he goes lower still, his tongue slipping down between my cheeks. As I feel him lick over my twitching hole, it's all I can do not to cum, a sharp cry falling from my lips as I writhe beneath him. 

Had I really thought him to be so innocent? Where is that shy, virginal farmboy now, and who is this confident young man working his mouth over that most private of places? A flash of jealousy jolts through me at the thought of Clark doing these things with other people, learning just how to touch and tease someone so perfectly. The tip of his tongue breaches me, driving out any thoughts of envy, leaving only the need for him. I thrust down as much as I can, taking him in further, knowing neither of us will sleep tonight until it's his cock pushing into me and shattering me into pieces like this.

"Oh, God, Clark! Fuck, baby, yeah, like that…just like that. Christ, this what you picture, Kent? Huh? Me begging for it, aching for it, fucking myself on your tongue? So fucking hot, Clark. Holy shit, baby…gonna make cum like this, so close, Clark, so fucking close…"

I feel myself open for him, feel his thumb tugging at my rim as he pierces me with his tongue, a slow, steady rhythm of thrusting that matches his strokes on my throbbing cock. He presses in deeper, and I lose it, cock spurting its load in body-racking pulses as his tongue presses against my prostate. I think I'm screaming his name, can't tell from the haze of pleasure stuffing my ears like cotton. And then my mouth is covered by his, the dark taste of myself on his tongue making me shudder out another spurt of cum as I somehow manage to wrap my arms around him, clutching him close. 

His thumb is still there, dipping in and circling around, bringing me down slowly from this unexpected high, his other, cum-sticky, hand soothing lightly along my side. He's murmuring wordlessly against my mouth, and I will my brain to turn back on, knowing there's still so much more to do; he hasn't cum yet, and I want to touch, to taste, to see him fall apart for me the way I just did. To show him a little of what I imagine when I'm alone and thinking of him.

His hand is gone from between my legs now, his fingers trailing through the puddle of cum on my stomach. I feel my cock twitch in renewing interest as he raises them to his mouth, licking away the sticky drops and letting his eyes flutter closed at the taste of me. As he enjoys himself, I gather my wits enough to turn us over, pushing him onto his back and quickly sliding down his broad, hard body, to settle between his legs. Looking over him, I promise to take my time on the next go, but the sight of his reddened leaking cock is proof enough that he probably won't mind quick and dirty right now.

"Lex?"

"Wanna taste you, Clark. Wanna show you part of one of my own fantasies. That okay, baby?"

"Fuck…yeah. Do it, show me."

Flashing him a devilish smirk of my own, I waste no time in swallowing him down. I want him hot and heavy in my mouth, filling my throat like I want him filling me elsewhere later.

"Oh, my God, Lex! Jesus Christ, so good." My eyes flick up to him and his head is thrown back against the pillow. I can tell he's holding back, not wanting to hurt me by thrusting, his hands clenching the sheets. I swallow around the thick length, earning a restrained buck of hips. "Fuck, Lex, baby, not gonna last, too good."

I want to see him undone, so I grab one of his hands and guide it to my head, moaning around him at the feel of that huge paw sliding over my scalp. He forces his eyes open, looking at me like he's asking permission, and I grant it with a slow blink and another swallow.

"Oh, fuck, Lex…thank you…", he groans out, understanding, giving in.

He doesn't push against my head, just holds me steady, and I let my hands slide under him, gripping handfuls of the firm globes of his ass as he bucks up into me. I let my throat go lax, letting him fuck my mouth, and I know my voice will be raw and raspy later, a reminder of this. 

He's babbling now, broken sentences of wonder and praise, and I feel a surge of pride at being able to reduce him back to the bumbling boy I fell in love with. I squeeze the cheeks of his ass, urging him faster as he gets closer, wanting him to spill. I let my tongue work at whatever part of the huge cock stretching my jaw I can as he slides in and out of my throat, the round head pressing against my esophagus as I will my body not to gag; it's been so long since I've deep throated anyone, and never one this big, it's probably only through the sheer force of my desire that I manage at all.

A clench of his hand on the back of my head and a stilted cry of pleasure is all the warning I receive before he buries himself deeply, his cock pulsing against my tongue as he cums. I pull back slightly, catching the last few spurts on my tongue as I suck around the head of his cock, savoring the salty, heady taste of him before swallowing it down with a satisfied hum. Slightly thicker than I'm used to, but not bad, just apparently a different consistency than human semen. The scientist in me can't help but catalog the difference, file it away for later consideration. If I weren't so worried of anyone else getting ahold of his DNA, I'd probably save some to put under a microscope, just for personal edification. 

I suck at him, drawing every drop I can, until he pushes lightly at my head, his cock no doubt sensitive after such a release. I let the half-hard length slip from my mouth as I kneel back up, licking my lips for any spilled seed.

"Knew you'd taste good, Farmboy. Like fresh churned butter."

Clark stutters a breathless laugh, shaking his head incredulously and I just smirk back at him. He pulls me up his body, draping me over him, and pulls my head down for a deep, tender kiss. He lets out a soft moan as he licks at my tongue, his cock twitching against my stomach, obviously enjoying what he tastes. 

Breaking the kiss gently, I roll us onto our sides. He cups my face, his thumb swooping along the line of my cheekbone, and I arch an eyebrow at him. For someone obviously experienced enough to rim me without hesitation, there's certainly an odd look of wonder on his face.

"You're amazing, Lex", he voices an answer to my unspoken question. 

Letting my hand drop between us to feather my fingers along his reawakening cock, I let my lips twist into my teasing smirk. He lets out a hiss, bucking into the light touch. God, he's magnificent like this, and he's not even fully fucked-out yet. But he will be. Leaning forward, I kiss my way along his jaw, nipping at his earlobe.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Spaceboy."

******

@leatafandom

[riddle-me-ri]

So, I read your Oswalds being asked out by reader and as the angst sucker I am I saw myself in the obbligation to make a request based on BTAS Oswald's one 😇 Sooo... Reader trying to make BTAS Ozzie realise that her feelings are genuine but out of fear that she might also be trying to hurt him he is particularly harsh on her and makes her cry, although she holds it in and doesn't give in until she apologizes for bothering him and leaves

A/N: Oooohhh you’re a bold one aren’t you dear, anon. I have yet to really write any angst, and if I did there was always a hint of comfort but nope, not this time. :P But also this is my first only angst and I hope I did the genre justice. I read it enough and experience it enough, I hope I get it rip

Trigger Warnings: angst, angst, and angst. Negative thoughts and feelings, mean!Oswald

Word Count: 1.2 k

BTAS Penguin x F!Reader - Leave Me Alone

Oswald had to admit it, he did admire your tenacity. 

But really, did you have to keep pushing it? Why couldn’t you understand he wasn’t going to fall for your tricks.

“Oz, I hear a new play is in town, want to go see it with me?”

Oh, please like you would actually want to be seen with him.

“Ozzie! There’s a new exhibit of bird paintings going on at the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, want to come with me?”

You’re just teasing him at this point. Surely, you don’t actually care about him and his interests. No, no this is all just some game. You’re playing it well too, he almost believed you a couple of times. 

Every time he felt even a sliver of a smile don his face or just the slightest inflection in his voice to say, “yes,” or “I’d like that.” He was brutally reminded of what happened the last time…that happened every time he thought someone cared about him…that someone loved him. 

He wanted to believe, he wanted it to be true, but he refused to be made a fool of again. It’s been years since the Veronica Vreeland disaster and those pictures from the paper still haunt him. Just like the laughs, all the laughter from the elite society of Gotham City at his expense. 

He tried to push you away, turning you down, hoping you would just give up…but you are so damn persistent. 

“Oh, it’s okay Ozzie, another time then?”

“I just think you need to relax a little, I’m worried about you Oswald…”

Lies, lies, lies! All of it. So what you tried to include him in everything you did? You offer to take him out? You show your concern for him? You try to treat him…treat him like a human…

Huh…treat the notorious Penguin like a man, Joker would get a laugh out of that one. 

Oswald’s fists clenched, he grinded his teeth on his cigarette holder. The cigarette long gone by now. He’s puffed it all out in frustration and desperation. 

Why…why did you have to be so cruel to him? Why couldn’t you see that he…couldn’t be with you, he can’t believe you? 

No matter how much he wanted to…he couldn’t. He is a creature, a monster ostracized from society because of something out of his control. If no one would accept him as anything more than a freakish nuisance than so be it. He’s a criminal, a crook, a rogue. Someone incapable of love and being loved. 

“Hey, Ozzie! How’s your day going?”

Speak of the devil.

Oswald groaned under his breath. He thought surely you would leave him be the last time he shown you the door. 

“Fine, Y/N. What are you doing here? Besides wasting my time!” Oswald snipped. 

You froze in place. You stood in front of him in the living room of his studio apartment. He was sitting up on the couch, with his head in his hands. 

You inhaled and exhaled, this isn’t the first time Oz snapped at you, and surely won’t be the last. However, you couldn’t give up on him. You adored his smile, his love for birds, and his gentle nature that he tries so hard to hide. 

“I’m here to see you! I don’t consider that a waste of-”

“It is! It’s a waste of my time!” Oz remarked. 

Okay, he was being particularly short today.

“Ozzie, w-what happened? Is something wrong?” 

Oswald stood up, supporting himself on the table. “Yes..yes there is…”

“W-What is-”

“You, Y/N. You’re what’s wrong.” He snatched his cane and leaned on it as he started heading towards you.

No matter how annoyed or frustrated he got with you. You were never scared of Oswald, you refused to be disgusted or afraid, because you weren’t. 

Nevertheless, you found yourself walking backwards every time he took a step forwards toward you. You eyes widened in shock…maybe even fear. 

“O-Ozzie…what’re you talking about?”

Oswald growled angrily, sneering. “You, you're always coming here! Teasing me! Toying with my feelings! Don’t you understand you foolish girl? I won’t fall for your flirtatious wiles!”

“F-flirtatious? Ozzie I just wan-”

“Stop calling me that!” He barked. 

Your back was almost to the door at this point. You had no where else to go, but you had to do something, if there was anything you could do.

“O-Okay..Oswald please…I just wanted to..to..show you that I care about you! I want to be with you!”

“You’re a relentless thing, I’ll give you that. But I won’t fall for it! Not a day goes by I don’t hear them laughing and jeering at me! Look at that freak? Who would want to be with him? Who could love The Penguin?”

“I want to! I do Oswald! I’ve been trying to get you to see that! If you’d just let me in…”

Oz started feverishly shaking his head. He couldn’t fall for it. He won’t fall for it. No matter how badly he wanted to, he really wanted to. 

You tried to reach out and put your hand on Oswald’s shoulder, but he jerked away like your hand was a hot skillet. The abrupt force caused Oswald to lose his balance and fall back on his back. 

“Oswald!” You cried. You ran up to him ready to lift him back up, but he smacked your hand away. 

“Leave.” He grumbled.

“O-Oswald please…”

“For the last time…” Oswald grabbed his cane that fell with him to his side. You stepped back to give him room. “...get out…get out and don’t come back.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that were slowly brewing in your eye ducts from slowly tipping over and slide down your cheek. “Oswald…”

“Are you deaf? I may have grotesque features but I know I do not stutter. Get out! And never return!” Oswald barked. He started walking away from you, not wanting to look at you or the tears on your face. 

This was for the best. Hurting you now will save both of you hurt in the long run. 

“O-Oz…”

The Penguin snapped his head back over his shoulder at you. “Get out! Leave me alone, Y/N! You’re not wanted here!” 

Sobs started bubbling up in your throat. You exhaled more air than your lungs could keep up with as you felt your heart break into two. 

“F-Fine! If I really mean so little to you! I’ll leave you alone! I won’t come back!” You cried, trying to muster up any sort of facade of strength. Even if you were already failing miserably. 

Maybe if I say it back, he’ll hear what he’s really telling me.

“I’ll never come back, Oswald. You’ll be alone…” You weeped. 

“I’ve lived my whole life alone, I’m sure I’ll suffice just fine, even better without you. Now, for the last time. Leave me alone!” Oswald snarled. 

“Sorry to be such a bother…sorry for showing that I care about you.” You muttered but loud enough to where Oswald heard you. 

The last thing The Penguin heard was the loud slam of his apartment door and your muffled cries as you sobbed down the halls. He lowered his head and sighed. A single lone tear fell down the crook of his nose. The nose you often poked and called “cute.” 

It’s for the best, Oswald old boy.

[linasofia]

Coming Home

Fandom: The Man from Rome

Relationship: Father Lorenzo Quart x Female reader

Summary: After a long time apart, you return home and are reunited with the man who has stolen your heart.

Words: 2,5 K

Warnings: 18+ Please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you.

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous fics about FQ, but it can also be read as a standalone. You can find all my FQ fics in my masterlist.

Sometimes a month can pass in the blink of an eye, but when you are separated from someone your heart belongs to, a month can feel like it has no ending. And the last part of a journey is always the hardest, so close, but still not in the arms of your beloved.

As the plane glides through the thin clouds, I grip the seat’s handle impatiently. The captain has announced that we are landing shortly, but this feels like the longest flight known to humankind. I try not to look at my watch again and instead I visualize what awaits at the end of my trip and who I will meet very soon; Lorenzo. Just thinking of him makes my heart flutter and when I close my eyes, I can clearly see him before me. His tall and muscular frame, his dark hair, painted with a shimmer of silver at his temples, and his beautiful azure eyes. His prominent nose which he buries in my hair before he falls asleep. And his alluring lips that complement his expressive eyes in every shift of his mood. Lips I long to kiss and be kissed by. Everything about him feels like a blessing, and I shiver with delight when I allow myself to dream of his embrace. The way he smells when he holds me close, how his hands usually find their way under my clothes to caress my skin, and the closeness he always seems to yearn for, exposed during the early mornings when he sleeps close to me, often with an arm draped around me, as if he is afraid I will disappear into the dark shadows of the night.

When I am finally back in the familiar quarters in the city center my heart beats hard like a drum. Lorenzo texted me close to boarding and asked me to join him at home as soon as I was back in town. I have no intention of delaying our meeting so that is why I now hurriedly walk down the stairs with my phone in a tight grip. First I hear only signals but right before the call goes to voicemail, he suddenly answers, sounding a little out of breath. My name always sounds like an endearment when spoken by him and today is no exception. He demands my exact location and his eagerness warms me more than the sun, which has begun its evening journey and soon will disappear behind the old roofs.

”I see you!” His voice is filled with so much joy that my heart takes a leap in my chest and is ready to burst. I smile at his warm greeting, lift my gaze to his balcony and the sight almost has me tumbling down the stairs. On the slim balcony stands Lorenzo, in what I can only assume is his trousers, but with his upper body gloriously naked. Even from a distance I can see his gorgeous well-built shape and I cannot help wondering how many of the tourists and admirers of the stairs and the beautiful fountain will spot him in the sunlight. They would probably be shocked if they knew that the handsome half-naked man is the same man who has the authority to absolve them from their sins.

”I can see you, too. The whole piazza can!”

”They are not here for me sweetheart, besides, I do not care.”

I giggle while I cross the piazza and open the heavy door to the building where he lives. The usual scent of freshly baked bread hangs in the air, and I rush up the stairs to avoid the old lady on the first floor. Lorenzo has told me that she is kind and warm-hearted, but a bit nosy, and I do not want to run into her and be forced to come up with an excuse for my presence in the building.

A discreet click from the lock is heard as soon as I put my feet on the top floor and, if possible, it makes my heart beat even faster. He seems to be just as impatient as me and it feels overwhelmingly good. I quickly glance around and then open the door. Before I even get a chance to put my things down, I am being pulled into a kiss. With both hands, he cups my face and I let the bag slide off my shoulder so I can wrap my arms around him. His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat and his hair is damp. The muscles on his arms and torso are tense, and when I let my hands travel over his back, I feel his strength under my fingertips. He breaks the kiss when my hands land on his well-sculpted buttocks, hiding under his black sweatpants. Then he releases me from his tight embrace with an apologetic look in his eyes.

”I am sorry, I was not expecting you so soon. I was just done with my workout and thought I had time to shower.”

”I do not mind your sweat. But I have been on a plane for over six hours and I would love to take a shower. Preferably with you.” I blink at him and a grin spreads on his face before he pulls me close again.

”Or I can make love to you right here in the hallway, quick and dirty.” His voice drops to a murmur when he grabs me and lifts me up. ”Do you really expect me to wait until you are pure and clean?”

”Says the man who spent most of his adult life in celibacy,” I tease him but when something dark shifts in his eyes, I bite my lower lip. I know that look on his face and I gasp as his fingers dig into my flesh.

”I must make up for lost time,” he murmurs huskily and carries me into his large bathroom.

Lorenzo’s newly renovated bathroom is a raw industrial dream with small elements from nature softening the hard concrete design. It never stops to amaze me how interested he is in technology and interior design. I have lost count on how many times my assumptions about him have been wrong. Lorenzo is not like any other priests I have met. Or maybe it is just the fact that I get to see the remarkable person behind the clergy collar. And sleep with him.

My feet land on the thick, luxurious white bathroom carpet and without even blinking he roughly pulls my sweater over my head. His swift fingers release me from my bra and then he eagerly moves his attention to my trousers. When they join my other clothes on the floor he watches my naked body with growing hunger. But instead of pulling me close again, he opens the shower doors and turns on the water. It streams down and soon the heat from the water creates mist on the clear glass.

I nod at his sweatpants and with a smirk he puts his thumbs under the waistband and pulls them down. His boxers follow and when Lorenzo straightens his back, a very promising erection stares back at me. I give him a smile but do not move. He steps into the shower and holds out a hand for me to take, and when I do, he pulls me inside and wraps his arms around my waist. The water instantly drowns my hair and when I let my head fall back to get it out of my face, he takes advantage of my neck. With a low groan he starts to assault my skin in the most delightful way. Tender kisses, nibbling at my skin and the feeling of his raspy stubble against my neck tease my already aching body and with an encouraging moan I urge him to keep exploring my skin.

The smell of my favorite shower gel fills the shower and I briefly think of the first time he bought it for me. A small gesture, but it represented a big step in our relationship. He wanted to have something that belonged to me, in his home, and the small token of commitment almost made me cry back then.

”Turn around,” His voice is lower now and without the slightest hesitation I do as he wants. He rubs his hands together and creates a soft foam and then gently starts washing my upper body. His large hands work their way over my shoulders and down my back in small circles. I let out a pleased sigh as he reaches my lower back and starts giving my tired muscles a massage. Grateful for his treatment I place my hands on the tiles and arch my back. He groans when my bum brushes against his hardness and his pressure on my lower back increases, forcing me to arch under his touch even more. I moan as he moves his hands even lower, but suddenly he reaches for the shower gel again and pours what seems like a lot of it right over the roundness of my buttocks. It feels cold against my warm skin, but Lorenzo soon works his magic and lets his hands glide over my body, spreading the freshly smelling foam everywhere he can reach; kneading the softness of my hips and thighs, caressing my stomach and fondling my breasts. Every time I try to reach for him, he stops and reprimands me in that husky voice that never fails to arouse me beyond the line of sanity, and his next words only fuel my desire to touch him. ”Hands on the wall.”

Lorenzo sneaks one arm around me and pulls me against his firm chest so he can hold me upright. The water is pouring down like a waterfall from the showerhead in the ceiling, washing all the foam away and leaving only the lovely scent of lilac on my skin. His other hand finds its way to my breasts and when he lovingly cups them, one by one, as if they were treasures to worship, I let out a pleased sigh. But I need more and as if he can read my mind, he soon abandons the small, hard peaks he woke with his thumb and index finger. Agonizingly slowly, he lets his hand travel down my belly, and then moves to concentrate on circling the area which is my body’s epicentrum. I moan his name, a needy sound that makes him groan against my skin.

“Have you missed me that much?”

I want to reply with something cocky, but when he gently sinks his teeth into my shoulder, my words turn into a whimper. He knows so well that his harsh move never fails to get me dizzy with lust, and I grip his arm for support, leaning heavier against his body. Lorenzo is just as skilled with his long fingers as he is with his mouth, and when my core tightens to prepare me for the stream of pleasure that will soon flood my body, he stimulates all my senses at once.

”That’s my good girl. Let me hear what I do to you.” The dark melody of his voice is like music to my ears, and it sets every fiber in my longing body on fire. ”I feel how close you are, come for me.”

With only the tip of his fingers he pushes me down into the pond of seduction and I fall helplessly apart by his hand. The way he purrs my name with his lips pressed to my ear is overwhelmingly erotic and I lose myself in the sensation.

Before I get a chance to catch my breath, Lorenzo spins me around. He seizes my knee, lifts it up and a little to the side, giving him enough space to step close to me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tremble as I feel his smooth shaft press against my heat. With an alluring dark smile he uses his other hand to adjust himself and then, with a single hard thrust, he enters me.

I have waited what feels like ages, even if I know I have only been gone a month, to be intimate with him again. With all of his massive length buried deep inside me, I gasp and briefly close my eyes. The blessing that is the man’s girth never seems to stop taking my body by surprise and stretched over his shaft, I let out a throaty moan. Lorenzo presses himself against me, fully aware of how much it triggers my lust. I could never have imagined that a man who has spent so many years without the satisfaction of another body could be such a fantastic lover. He has a unique ability to read my body and he enjoys playing with all my senses in a way I never thought possible. The way he speaks, moans, and grunts fuels every part of my receptive body, and together with the rhythmic moves of his hips and sensual touches, he sets even my soul on fire.

The water pours down over us and the mist visually softens his hard shape. His hair is wet but his eyes are burning with desire when I meet his gaze. I can feel his hand gripping my leg tighter and I let him find the pace we both know will lead us towards our releases. Time ceases to exist and all our troubles are being washed away by the blinding heat building rapidly between our bodies. It is just him and me, lost in the endless sea of pure pleasure. I can feel he is holding back, waiting for me to reach the point where he can push me down the slope of satisfaction. When I finally do, he catches me and holds me while my body shivers uncontrollably and my climax starts to tear me apart. I feel him reaching his peak together with me, and with a sinfuI cry, I shatter around him as he gives me everything he has.

We pant as one when our bodies finally relax against each other, but there are no words to explain the intense moment between us. Lorenzo places both of his hands on the wall behind me and leans in to rest his forehead against mine. My heart swells when my gaze meets his. His voice is nothing more than an affectionate whisper when he eventually speaks.

”I am so glad you are back again. This month was as long as an eternity.”

I nod and wrap my arms around his waist. It was a struggle. But now everything is as it should be. Almost.

Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog! ❤️

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knitastically @jaskierthelover @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[magicshopaholic]

Weekend Story: A Japanese GP Special (Part 2)

Summary: Years before all the heartbreak and drama, Kim Taehyung walked onto my paddock at Suzuka. Try as I might to look away, he was the only thing I could see on track.

or

How Taehyung and Dilara first met

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 13 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, stress, sexism, jealousy, heavy making out, blowjobs, fingering, dirty talk, sex

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @meirkive, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

A/N: This had to be split - it was wayyy too long. Once again, since this was written long long ago and wasn't intended to be posted, there will be minor inconsistencies and differences in style of writing compared to the rest of the series. The biggest of these is probably that it's told from a first person POV, ie. Dilara's POV.

It picks up straight from the end of Part 1 and ends eight months prior to Los Angeles, taking place over the span of a race weekend.

Listen to: “on se plaît” by françoise hardy

part 1 | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

qualifying

When I wake up, it’s with the momentary fear that I’ve overslept. I lunge for my phone on the bedside table and sigh out loud in relief when I see that I have a good hour before I need to leave for the paddock. I sit up and realise then that not only am I still naked, but that I’m also alone.

It isn’t… shocking. I know we’d fallen asleep together for sure, because I remember my sleep breaking somewhere in the middle of the night as I shifted and feeling Taehyung’s arm around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his face in my hair and his leg over my hip. But one look at the bathroom tells me that he isn’t in there and another sweep around the room makes it apparent that his clothes have disappeared as well. 

I step out of bed and head straight into the shower, calmly, methodically. There’s something a bit unsettling about this - but I reason with myself that it’s not inconceivable that Taehyung may want to go back to his own room for a shower or a change of clothes, or even just go back to his room. But it’s the fact that he just left, especially when I was asleep. When I come out of the shower, hair in a bun and towel wrapped around me, I even check the dresser for a note or something, followed by my phone for a call or a text or something.

When I find nothing, I give up. I can’t care this much about a boy I just met and fucked - not today. Not on Qualifying day. I officially compartmentalize and, putting on a Red Bull t-shirt, jeans and Doc Martens, I grab Max’s hoodie to return it and throw on a leather jacket (my own hoodie still in the back of Taehyung’s car) and grab my bag. I’m just on my way out when I notice that Tae’s left his hoodie, the black one I’d been wearing all day yesterday. Ignoring it, I head downstairs.

It doesn’t get any better. I’m sitting at a table with Lexie, Max, Alex and Max’s trainer Dean, everyone in Red Bull gear, with a plate piled with nothing but fruit and a bowl of cereal next to it. I don’t want to think about why I’m not hungrier; it becomes more difficult when I spot the group troop into the restaurant and take a table at the back, all looking like they’ve just woken up. Taehyung is in another black hoodie that I’m assuming is Jungkook’s, only because it’s absolutely enormous. It doesn’t matter, though, for it doesn’t escape my attention that even when dressed like a hobo, Taehyung looks absolutely gorgeous, with his hair effortlessly falling into his eyes and face smooth and impassive as usual as he scans the food he walks past with no expression.

It also doesn’t escape my attention that, despite standing at the buffet right across from him, he walks past me as though I’m a stranger. I’m frozen in front of the croissants for a moment, my already elusive appetite disappearing entirely, wondering what the fuck just happened. When I walk back to our table, I realise my plate is empty, but I can’t be bothered. 

Listen, I’m not that girl, alright? I know what a casual hook-up is. I’ve had them, I prefer them a lot of the time. If looked at from a certain point of view, Taehyung was exactly that: a popstar who fooled around with a fan after his concert and fucked her the next night because they happened to live in the same hotel. It’s fine if that’s what it is, I tell myself, even as I feel my heart fall into my stomach at the thought. But I just want to know. 

With a great deal of effort and courage, loathing myself, I actually turn around in my chair to look at the BTS table, hoping I’m wrong and that maybe Taehyung genuinely hasn’t seen me. Instead, Jimin catches my eye and raises his eyebrows, lifting his hand in a half wave. He nudges Taehyung, who seemingly ignores him, heavily focused on his eggs. Even Namjoon notices me and gives me a small smile. 

I turn back in my chair to face my friends, starting to feel a whole different kind of anxiety, not to mention irritation. I force myself to focus on the conversation in front of me and almost cry with relief when Daniel and Michael stop at our table and we all decide to head to the paddock together.

Daniel takes one look at my plate. “Fruit? Where’s the good stuff?”

“I’m not hungry,” I mumble as I push my chair back in and pick up my bag.

“Oi, that’s not healthy at all,” he informs me while Michael nods at his side, both looking very tan and very Australian. Without permission, he snags a slice of toast from the bread station next to him and shoves it at me. “Eat it, come on.” I know by now that Danny is stubborn and if he wants me to eat toast, I’m eventually going to. So instead of arguing, I simply reach forward and bite off a large piece from the slice in his hand and force it down.

“Attagirl,” says Max, clapping me on the back and putting his arm around my shoulder as we all head out. Just as we’re exiting, I sneak another last look at the BTS table. Taehyung’s still looking at his food, his usual smooth and sharp side profile visible, but I could swear that he’d just been looking at me. I can’t be sure, though, but before I can mull over it any further, Max pulls me away and we head to Suzuka.

An hour later, I’ve found an extra Red Bull hoodie that I’m literally snuggling into, given how cold it is at the track. Natalie Pinkham holds a mic before me, asking me what I’m expecting today. I love Natalie but it isn’t the most insightful question, given that I have absolutely no idea what to expect - but the last thing I can do is admit that to the world.

I’m doing what I do best, which is evading, my hands balled into fists in the pockets of my hoodie and strands of my hair blowing in the cold breeze when I hear a collective shriek and I just know, even before I’ve looked up, who it’s for. It’s not surprising, for haven’t I been waiting for them to show up?

I try not to look at them too obviously. I’m still a bit annoyed, if I’m being honest (and worried, but we won’t go there) and frankly, I could care less if they showed up or not. But they do and in some sick coincidence, have to literally pass right by me to get to the Honda camp where I’m presuming they will be briefed on their PR for the day.

Hoseok is the first one I see, dressed par for course in comfy jeans and a jacket. All of them are dressed well - they always are - and walk with confidence, waving occasionally at the tons of Japanese fans in the paddock. He comes in right at the end, standing in the corner next to Jin, looking rather like he’d be anywhere else but here.

I try not to let that get to me - his face always looks like that, I tell myself. But then he shifts slightly to the side and my heart skips a beat, for while Kim Taehyung looked like peak boyfriend material yesterday, today he looks like he belongs on a freaking runway. He’s in black trousers, a white button down and a dark green blazer, hair styled to casual perfection. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he walks along with the rest of the band, all tall and uncaring and incredibly charismatic.

But no. I cannot afford thoughts like these, not when I have zero indication from him as to what’s going on and have a Qualifying to prepare for. They’re walking towards me, though. I have to focus all my energy on Natalie and look anywhere but at him, even while the weakest part of me waits in anticipation for when he will have to walk past me to enter the Red Bull Honda enclosure.

They reach me quicker than expected. Given that I’m in an interview, I don’t actually expect them to say anything at all, but I have to know that Taehyung, who was finger-fucking me about twelve hours ago, will at least look at me. He doesn’t, though; he hangs back a bit behind the group and walks right past me, close enough that I can smell his lotion and cologne as he sweeps past, towering over me.

I don’t know what to think. Thankfully I’m not fully alone; Lexie, after a recovery from bad sushi, is at the paddock today, still looking a little pale. Dark-haired with olive skin and a dancer’s body, she looks a lot like me, enough that people have mistaken us for sisters. I realise only while she’s helping me warm up that she’s missed all the BTS action in the last day and a half. I decide to tell her later, only if and when there’s something worth telling.

Free Practice - the only free practice - begins in an hour. I drive out, head full of numbers and strategies and tactics and come back some ten minutes later with a reasonable amount of feedback. I stay in the car, my helmet off and sipping on warm lemonade from a Red Bull can while I wait for an engineer to bring me the data from my drive. My gaze roams around to finally land on none other than two members of the group standing at the edge of the garage and chatting up a couple of fans.

Not fans as in a throng of screaming girls, but exactly two fans, two girls who are laughing and talking to Taehyung and Jimin, the two biggest flirts of the band. Amidst all the mixed emotions, I once again have no choice but to admire how flawless he looks, one hand on his hip, pushing his blazer back. There’s a moment where Jimin is measuring his pinkie with those of the girls and Taehyung joins in as well. I watch with a sinking feeling in my stomach as one of the girls places her pinkie against his and, when it’s deemed smaller, links their fingers and brings their hands down. 

Taehyung makes no great effort to retrieve his hand; it happens smoothly and casually and ends up back in his pocket. At that moment, still laughing, he looks around and his gaze stops right at me. I look away immediately, mortified at being caught staring at what can only be described as a one-night stand who clearly couldn’t care less. That’s the word, isn’t it? It’s humiliating, to be sure, but more than anything, it’s mortifying. It’s mortifying to know that I more or less fell for a popstar who, since he can’t date, does this more regularly than I would’ve believed; it’s mortifying to know that he got what he came for; and it’s an unprecedented level of embarrassment I feel when i remember how I poured my fucking heart out to him last night about my past.

Sitting there in my car and staring hard at the dials on my steering wheel, I feel a prickle in my eyes. But I know crying isn’t an option. Crying over a boy is not an option and, more importantly, crying in front of my team is absolutely not an option. As a girl, every emotion I display is automatically blown out of proportion; the last thing I need to do is give them more fodder. So instead, I go out again and reach P3 in the FP standings.

We have a break before Qualifying. Lexie and I grab lunch outside the Red Bull building; I’m still on the fence about whether or not to say anything to her about Taehyung. She knows they’re here, of course; she’s as big a fan as I am. We’re just finishing up when she fixes her gaze on something behind me and lets out a low groan.

I turn around to see him on the phone and, indeed, looking over in our direction. “Oh. Yeah, that’s him,” I say uneasily just as he catches my eye and raises a hand in greeting.

“Oh, God, it’s him,” she whispers longingly. “It’s Namjoon. Is he - is he taller in real life. He looks incredible. He looks -” she pauses. “He’s looking right over here.”

“Is he -” Lexie chokes. “Is he coming over here? Does he - do you know him?” All this is asked in furious whispers as Namjoon comes over, now shoving his phone in his pocket and smiling at us.

“Hey, Dilara,” he says easily, a huge contrast to how his stupid band member is being. “We saw you drive - man, how fast do those cars go?” 

“Pretty fast,” I admit, smiling slightly - because, really, how can I not smile back at him? “By the way, this is my trainer and friend, Lexie,” I tell him, pointing to the horny mess that she surely is right now. 

Namjoon immediately greets her with a winning smile and Lexie’s reaction doesn’t disappoint when she nods and stutters out a reply before smiling back. I watch her in mild amusement as he responds like a true gentleman, privately glad that I was a bit more graceful while meeting them - hopefully. Just before he’s about to leave, he turns to me.

“By the way,” he says, picking a grape out of the bowl I offer him, “you really did a number on him.” With that extremely cryptic piece of information, Namjoon waved and strolled back towards the Honda building.

I stay there, frozen, not knowing what he means or how to answer Lexie’s incredulously questioning expression. Well, I think I know what he means because there aren’t a lot of guys I may have done a number on, but… what does he mean? Is Taehyung angry about something? Is that why he’s been avoiding me? Is he shy? Is he - and here’s where I might have to kill myself - regretting last night?

“Dilara!” Lexie snaps her fingers in front of me. “What is it?”

But I can’t answer, because the fury rising in me is essentially clouding everything else. This is ridiculous; I’m at a goddamn race weekend and some guy (that I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen hard for) that’s slept with me is ignoring me like we’re in high school, while his friend comes over hours later to give me the vaguest detail ever? A number on him? Seriously?

“I have to qualify today,” I state. Lexie frowns.

“I - of course, you do. You - what?”

“Yeah, I need to qualify,” I repeat, standing up now. “Think we have time for a track walk?”

We don’t, but that’s beside the point. I’m not spending another moment pining over some jackass, even if he does look like an Adonis, who sneaked out the morning after and can’t be bothered to make eye contact with me. I’m back in the car an hour later, now fully focused on Q1, when my phone buzzes next to me. Lexie picks it up and frowns. “Good luck,” she reads, “from… who’s Tae - wait, Tae - Taehyung?”

Her wide eyes hold too many questions and I don’t have the mental bandwidth to answer them all. “I’ll tell you later,” I say shortly, struggling to stay focused on Qualifying. She gets it and doesn’t probe further, while I strap on my helmet with unnecessary force, now beyond annoyed with the situation. “Don’t reply to it,” is the last thing I say to Lexie before Simon tells me on the radio to head out.

I drive with everything I’ve got, conscious of the fact that I do have Q2 and Q3 to get through. As expected, Q1 ends with me in the top six, and my car gets brought back in to wait for Q2. I look up at the TV to see who I’m competing with: today, a Ferrari and an Alpine have been eliminated, which means both Haases and George Russell as usual have made it into Q2.

I watch the TV while I wait, looking at replays and Max’s final lap which puts him at P1. The camera pans over the Red Bull garage to cover me, Christian and even - my heart jolts - members of BTS standing with headphones on and watching.

Focus, I tell myself immediately as Q2 begins. I get sent in almost five minutes after everyone else in a pursuit of clean air and I zoom out, determined not to let Suzuka get to me. I’m aware that the tradeoff for clean air is that while everyone else might get three attempts, I only get two. It’s no matter, for I go out on a set of soft compound tyres and fly to P1. 

I’m just as shocked as everyone else. It’s not the end of Qualifying, but it’s something, especially on such a treacherous track. My engineers are rattling off streams of encouragement while I drive back, ready for a set of mediums that I will most likely start my race on tomorrow. My P1 position is slipping fast; everyone’s already on their second round. With less than two minutes to go, I’m sent out again. 

I drive with fire in my bones, the adrenaline pumping and the car feeling like butter under me. I start my flying lap with nothing but the track to focus on, just the road and the kerbs, feeling my arms and my neck withstand the pressure of the g-force. I’m midway through sector two, hitting every apex, running into no traffic -

There’s a jolt that almost makes my stomach fall out and I feel myself lifted off the ground before I crash into the barriers with a sickening thud that I know is my poor car getting destroyed. “What the fuck?” I shout furiously into my mic, hearing my own voice shake. “Was that - who was that? Was that Mazepin?”

“That will be investigated, Dilara,” comes Simon’s voice, following some static. “Are you good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I mutter, undoing my seatbelt and stepping out with a marshall’s help. I stumble out of the car, feeling a dull ache in my ankle. I take off my helmet right there to go and inspect my car which, wouldn’t you know it, has the entire rear destroyed.

“Ma’am,” says the marshall behind me, gesturing to the medical car. “You need to get checked out, ma’am.”

I nod and we drive to the medical centre as the red flag signs come on and the Qualifying halts. I comply with the doctors but I am fuming. When Vicki Reid enters the centre, I immediately demand to see a replay. It comforts me that she seems just as angry on my behalf, enough that she hands me her phone immediately so I can see the live replay.

I was right; it was Mazepin. The camera follows my car into sector two behind the Haas on its out lap (out lap!). For some reason, he tries to race me and pushes me off entirely. I wince as I see my car flying into the barriers and hear my own shaky voice as I curse.

The camera then pans to the garage, where the pit crew shouts at the screen, where Christian punches the table and shakes his head, and, in a shot with Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin, Taehyung’s eyes widen as he jerks in shock, with very obvious fear in his eyes.

It’s the only thing right now that can give me pause. I hand the phone back to Vicki as the doctor signs off, telling me my foot might be a bit sore for a couple hours but there’s no reason I can’t race tomorrow. Then we walk back to the garage just as Q3 begins - but I can’t give a fuck about Q3 right now; I’m so mad. I also can’t get Taehyung’s face out of my mind. Both the others in the shot had looked shocked as well but Tae… he’d looked terrified.

It turns out that since I had such a good lap time before I crashed out, I start at P11 tomorrow. Christian hugs me and agrees that it doesn’t make up for anything, that he’s going to make sure Mazepin gets a penalty for this, and that we’re going to work on a strategy tomorrow to fix this. I nod, trying not to scream out of anger. I go straight to the mechanics and start to apologise but one of them cuts me off with a hug, telling me they’re just glad I got out okay.

I make it through what remains of Q3 with Lexie, watching as Max puts the car on pole. In a surprising twist of events, Seb and Alonso get penalized for racing each other, both of them receiving three-place grid penalties, pushing me up to P9. It’s not great, but it’s something. 

As the post-qualifying interviews take place, I head out of the garage to the fridge to get myself a bottle of water. Since I didn’t participate in Q3, my interviews are already done. Just as I’m about to open the door, a slender hand appears in front of me, a white gold band around the index finger, and opens the door for me.

Ignoring how my heart skips a beat, I refuse to turn around and instead just take a bottle. “Are you okay?” he asks, the first thing he’s said to me since whispering sweet nothings into my ear last night while we lay naked in bed together. 

“Mhm,” I answer shortly. “What, were you worried about me?” I can’t keep the slight scoff out of my voice, even as I try hard to act like I don’t care that he’s been ignoring me all day. 

“Of course I was,” he replies immediately, like it’s the most obvious thing. “I think I’ll be this worried every single weekend from now on.”

Every single weekend. I pause while screwing the cap back on the bottle. I just can’t deal with this anymore. How complicated is this guy? Why is he so determined to act like I don’t exist, even while he’s sending me good luck messages and fearing for my life?

I finally look up at him just as Vicki calls both of us for a group picture. We both look to see the rest of the band, Max, Christian, Geri and the head of Honda waiting for us. We nod at the same time just when Taehyung turns back to me, almost taking my breath away with how good he looks.

“By the way,” he says, and his voice is suddenly lower, smoother, “you’re really cute when you get jealous.” With his trademark smirk and eyebrow raise, he takes a couple of steps back before turning around and strutting over to the group.

Okay, not that complicated. 

I don’t know what it is exactly that I’m feeling as I follow him slowly. There’s too many emotions flooding through me, relief and annoyance tied for the top spot. But as I watch him reach the group and turn around to face the camera and lock eyes with me, arm raised slightly in a silent call for me to come stand next to him, I know that despite everything else I may be feeling, I don’t back down from a challenge.

You have no idea what you’ve done, Kim, I think silently as I walk up and stand beside him. He’s clearly glad; I can see a smile appear on his smooth face as he rests his hand on my left shoulder. Hesitating briefly and checking that it’s just Seokjin standing behind him, I lean into him very slightly and place my hand on his back, taking care to slide it up. I’m looking straight into the camera but I can see in my periphery how his smile widens into a real smile as opposed to his model smile. Swallowing the relief I’m too stubborn to acknowledge, I smile, too.

The driver’s briefing isn’t for another hour so everyone is hanging out in the press room. Half the drivers are in team briefings and the journalists are also nowhere to be seen, giving the drivers and, in this case, BTS some free time after Qualifying. It’s a pretty comfortable room, almost like a lounge, with food and drink spread out on tables along the sides.

Since Taehyung and I can’t approach each other in public, I use this opportunity to consider what I’m feeling. Thankfully Lexie isn’t here, which means I don’t need to get into the story of it with her, but it also means that I’m figuring this out alone. 

You look cute when you’re jealous. I could kill him. Literally get on top of him, wrap my fingers around his throat, squeeze hard until he flips us over and smirks at me, long hair falling in his eyes -

“Goddamnit,” I whisper out loud and pour myself a coffee. I don’t move, however; I stay standing at the table when, to my horror, I catch a whiff of a familiar scent of lotion and cologne until Taehyung comes to stand right next to me, oh so casually scanning the sandwich bar. I don’t know if he’s here to talk to me or what, but I’m saved from guessing when Daniel Ricciardo sidles up on my other side and sneaks my coffee out from right in front of me.

“Finders keepers, Komyshan,” he says cheekily, clapping my shoulder. “Want a bite? I got the last one.” I look up to see him holding a brownie in his hand. I nod vigorously so he lowers it to my mouth and I take a bite from his hand.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble through a mouthful of brownie. “Of course you got the last one.”

“Yeah, I’m fast,” he says cockily, grinning and brushing a crumb off my cheek. Next to me, I hear a clang, possibly of a cup being slammed on a saucer. Danny hasn’t noticed, speaking to Max across the room, but I have and I turn very slightly to look at Taehyung. He isn’t looking at me either, but he’s biting his lip and his jaw looks hard enough to cut glass. 

I take a tiny step back so my shoulder brushes against his arm but he makes no move to acknowledge it. I turn around a bit more as Danny leaves and - I can hardly believe it - see Taehyung glare in his direction before turning around wordlessly and stalking back towards the rest of the band. Jimin is stifling a laugh with his fist while Hoseok isn’t even bothering with that, but all it does is give me the perfect idea - so perfect, that I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see it.

I turn to survey Daniel Ricciardo where he’s sitting in light blue jeans and a long-sleeved McLaren t-shirt, curls long and thick. When it comes down to it, Danny is the opposite of Taehyung in every way: he’s loud, unsubtle, white, hardcore millennial, and can’t sing or dance to save his life. But despite all that, no one can deny that if there’s one similarity between them, it’s that Daniel Ricciardo is god-tier hot when he wants to be. 

For a moment, I reconsider. Maybe I’m being too petty? I look down at my phone to check the time and see one unopened message on WhatsApp. It’s the same one from Taehyung that he’d sent me during qualifying, wishing me luck. The same time that I’d been agonizing on the inside as to whether he gave two shits about me at all. 

And the decision is made.

I make my way over to where Danny is sitting on the sofa and connecting his phone to the stereo’s Bluetooth. He’s just played some vague R&B track when I reach him and place a hand on the back of the sofa behind him, essentially leaning over him. He looks up to see me and immediately frowns.

“Uh, what’s happening?” he asks, blunt as ever.

I consider lying for a moment but then sigh. “I’m trying to make someone jealous and I need your help.”

His frown clears somewhat. “What - what do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Come on, you’re a guy. You know exactly what I mean.”

His face relaxes into a grin. “Yeah, I do. It’s a risky game, padawan,” he says, cocking his head and leaning back against the couch. “Risky, but effective.”

I smile back. “Great. So, can you just… do something that’ll piss him off?”

Danny’s gaze flickers away from me momentarily before he tilts his chin slightly higher towards me and suddenly, goofy Dan’s gone and sexy Dan from Monaco 2016 is here. “I think you talking to me in such close proximity is doing it already.”

My heart skips a beat. “Really? Is he - is he looking? Wait -” I bite my lip. “How do you even know who I’m talking about?”

He gives me a look. “I’m guessing it was the bloke in your room last night wearing nothing but a towel?” I can’t stop myself from smiling as I lower my head, hoping I’m not blushing. “Oh, that was great. Do that again,” he tells me. “Guys hate it when another guy makes their girl laugh.”

“Okay, so tell me something funny,” I say, ignoring how my heart zooms at that..

“Technically, it’s Bon Iver,” he says, leaning back as well. “But, yes, it’s exile by Taylor Swift.”

Danny bites his lip and grins, sitting forward so his face is closer to mine. “You know, I don’t know why you need my help,” he says. “You really seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Of course, that makes me smile in pride again. Just then a song plays on the stereo that I recognize. “Wait, is this Taylor Swift?” I ask, genuinely surprised as I stand upright.

“Wow,” I exclaim, flopping on the couch next to him. “Who would’ve thunk it? I mean, I love this song. Like, love.”

“Doesn’t everyone? Okay, here we go - I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending,” he begins singing, face screwed up in mock angst.

“So who am I defending now?” I join in, one octave higher, just as passionately again. All games of jealousy forgotten, we belt out the entire song together, neither of us very good, a sub-par impromptu duet in the middle of the press room. When the bridge begins, Danny pulls me up as I throw a grape at Lando who’s snickering and filming us.

“All this time,” he sings, clutching a pretend mic, “I never learned to read your mind.”

“Never learned to read my mind,” I echo, loving this song all over again.

“So many signs,” we sing together, just as he grabs my right hand and spins me around before pulling me in. I giggle in surprise as Lando and Max mockingly hoot and continue filming us. We’re sure to make it onto one Lando Norris’s Instagram today when I see a flash of something dark disappear out the door. I freeze as Danny falls to his knees beside me, belting out the last note, because I think I know what it is. 

As the song ends, I feel the smallest bit of guilt creeping into my stomach because I know that I’ve crossed a line, that I may just have taken a fresh, intimate memory with Taehyung and tainted it with a petty agenda.

Slowly, I turn towards where the rest of the group is seated and I know instantly that I’m right. None of them look surprised per se; the only one who catches my eye is Jimin, who has a mildly exasperated look on his face, and shakes his head slightly at me, essentially letting me know it’s not good. I nod and immediately excuse myself, hurrying out the door. 

It’s not too hard to find him. The press office is about twenty yards away from the Red Bull energy station and the Honda office. When I reach the enclosure, I spot a tall figure standing at the edge of the garage, scrolling through his phone with his other hand in his pocket. Taehyung looks up to see me, face smooth and impassive as ever, revealing nothing.

But I know him. I know, it’s been a day and a half, but I know him. I know this, at least. I know he’s angry, hurt, jealous - or some combination of the three. We look at each other in silence for a moment, alone for the first time since he sneaked out on me this morning. That memory is all I need to remember why I did this in the first place.

I turn on the spot and start walking. I don’t turn around to see if he’s following me because if I know him as well as I think I do, I know he is. He’s probably looking like a runway model while he does it, but he’s doing it. I keep walking until I reach my changing room and unlock the door, entering and turning around only when I hear the door lock behind me.

I stand with my arms folded across my chest as Taehyung leans back against the table at the opposite end of the room, hands in his pockets, surveying me coldly. I swallow; this isn’t how I was picturing the next time we’d be alone together. I don’t want to apologise - I won’t. I force myself to think about how I’d feel if I saw him dancing like that with one of those fangirls and I instantly want to throw something.

I lick my lips slowly. “Okay,” I say finally. “I know I may have gone a bit too far just now. But you know… you did ignore me all fucking day and - what are you doing?”

He’s taken off his jacket and pauses while unbuttoning one of the cuffs of his shirt. He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Keep going.”

I clench my jaw. “You sneaked out on me this morning. You really didn’t want to deal with the awkward morning-after with a one-night stand? You could’ve dropped me a text. Do you think I’m some pathetic, needy - okay, seriously, what are you doing?”

Taehyung’s rolled back both his sleeves to just below his elbows and is unbuttoning his shirt, stopping when I exclaim, just before his pecs start. His expression is unmoving; cold, smooth, impassive, with cheekbones that would put any model to shame. He slowly takes a step towards me, and then another, and another until he has me backed up against the wall.

“Keep going,” he repeats, voice deep and calm. Too calm. He licks his lips slowly and nods at me to continue.

“I -” I struggle to steady my breathing. He’s so close; his bangs fall into his dark eyes and he flicks them out, gaze unmoving. “I’m not a clingy lay. If you’d - if you’d had enough, you could’ve told me,” I add, breath stuttering when his hands reach for my belt and start deftly undoing it, slender fingers unbuttoning my jeans and unzipping it.

“Keep going,” he says a third time, not taking his eyes off me for even a moment. “Or do you want me to stop?”

Fuck. It sounds quietly threatening but I know, just like I knew that he was pissed, just like I knew that he’d follow me, that underneath the suppressed fury, he’s asking me for my consent. And, man, does he have it.

I swallow, looking him back in the eye and trying to ignore his fingers lightly brushing me through the denim. “I - you didn’t even look at me when we were sitting in the same fucking restaurant,” I continue in a low voice. The slightest of smirks appears at the corner of his mouth as his hand slips into my jeans. When he softly palms me through my underwear, I let out a gasp and see him raise an eyebrow and I’m shocked at how wet I am.

“I did. I just didn’t want you to see.” His voice is deep and sultry and I’m powerless to stop. 

“And then you were - you were walking around, looking all famous and sexy,” I stutter, squeezing my eyes shut when he presses the ball of his palm against my clit. I have to struggle not to moan out loud. “I had to just sit around in the garage watching you do your fanservice while I was just sitting…” I finally open my eyes and look at him, silently pleading, “... inside.”

The smirk grows but he doesn’t comply - not until I let out an actual moan and shut my eyes involuntarily. He slips two fingers in and I lean my head back against the wall and bite down on my lower lip, hard.

“Keep going.”

I nod, not wanting him to stop. “I was - I was so mad at you and then I got sad and then - then I decided to… to be mad again,” I ramble on, barely aware of what I’m saying while his fingers curl inside me and his thumb brushes against my clit. “Oh, fuck, Taehyung,” I gasp, letting go of all pretense.

Apparently the sound of his name is all he needed to hear. His eyes darken under his long hair and all signs of teasing leave his face. “You were mad at me?” he asks, his voice a deep, rumbling mess. His thumb presses against my clit without warning and I raise my hand to clutch his shirt but he preempts it and grabs it, holding it against the wall.

“Yeah, I - I was.” I force myself to look him in the eye, this incredibly hot, sexy, jealous Taehyung that I’d do anything for right now. “Especially when - when you tried to make me jealous? You really thought that would work?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t it?” he asks coolly.

His thumb is drawing circles against my clit now and I know I have maybe a minute at most before I come all over his hand. “Sure,” I manage, “but I think my plan worked out a lot better.”

I’m provoking him and I’m not surprised when it works. Taehyung says nothing, but his jaw hardens and his fingers move faster. He lowers his head slightly and I think for a moment that he’s about to kiss me, but he tilts it at the last moment so his lips hover near my ear.

I’m so close now. “Oh, God,” I whisper, shutting my eyes and tilting my head back. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…” My leg bends at the knee of its own accord and I feel my stomach contracting when suddenly, his fingers disappear and he places his hand on my hip.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” A deep murmur against my neck and he retreats, still standing right in front of me, looking unbelievably smug.

“I hate you,” I groan, shaking my head and resting it back against the wall. 

“I know. Looks like you’ll have to take care of it yourself.”

“Mhm,” I nod, “or find someone else to take care of it for me.”

And there it is. Taehyung’s face clouds over again. “Really?”

I nod, though, pushing my luck at this point. Brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, I speak and move my mouth closer to his. “I mean, I’d really prefer you to do it but… you saw my other options, right?”

It works like a fucking charm. Thirty seconds later I’m so close, so close that I’m clutching the front of his shirt and moaning his name, trying my hardest not to be too loud. His lips are at my jaw and trailing down to my neck until they reach my ear and he whispers for me to come for him.

“Fuck,” I mutter two minutes later, panting in the aftermath of that glorious orgasm. Taehyung’s looking down at me in a mixture of lust and fondness and for a moment I can’t quite believe that I’d thought he’d considered me just a one-night stand. He places his hands back on my hips and waits for me to finish buttoning my jeans and buckling my belt before pulling me in for a surprisingly sweet kiss.

I respond without hesitation, lightly tugging on the collar of his shirt and savouring him after what feels like ages. Taehyung does, too, pushing me back against the wall and running his hand up my back before pulling away reluctantly. “Will I see you again tonight?” he asks, his previously narrowed eyes now wider and more hopeful. His eyes search my face as though he hasn’t seen it in ages and he runs his thumb across my cheek.

I bite my lip. I’m sure it hasn’t slipped his mind either that my flight leaves tomorrow right after the race; I’d mentioned it to him last night and we’d both become quiet for a few moments before he’d hastily changed the subject. I don’t want to talk about it right now, though. 

“Yeah, of course,” I answer, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. His face breaks out into a soft smile as he pulls me closer to him. 

“Good.” He lowers his head and kisses me again, the same nice, toe-curling kiss, so unlike what happened when we first entered the room. We both leave minutes apart; he goes back to the group and I head over for the drivers’ briefing, feeling all tingly and fucked out, the spots on my neck still feeling hot from when he’d kissed me there.

Nikita Mazepin gets horribly called out for his stupid move that fucked up my Qualifying. Apart from that, I can barely focus on the briefing; in any case, most of the session is taken up by Seb and Fernando arguing over their incident after which I hitch a ride back to the hotel with Max, Lexie and Dean with us. I head straight into the shower and emerge twenty-five minutes later, hair clean and curly.

Wrapped in a towel with my wet hair down one shoulder, I gingerly pick up my phone, wondering what to tell Taehyung. I have to see him tonight; there’s no question about that. The fact that it’s our last night together has dawned on me all of a sudden and it’s making my stomach twist so unpleasantly that I think I may throw up. It’s inconceivable that I’m this attached to a man I met only forty-eight hours ago - but it’s happening, and the dread feels like it’s looming..

But when I open my chat with him and look at the last message (Good luck) and all the pictures before that, my heart stutters. I open my favourite one, the one that had become my favourite the moment I’d seen it: I’m on his back while he walks, my arms around his shoulders and one hand clutching his baseball cap. My hair is long and wavy, falling to one side as I turn my head towards him and kiss his cheek. Taehyung’s face - and this is my favourite part - is caught in what I can only describe as wonderfully surprised, eyes slightly wide but his smile even wider as he looks into the camera. Our faces are lit by the sunlight, our hair looking bright and black against our white t-shirts. Matching outfits.

We haven’t talked at all about how we feel about each other. It doesn’t make sense that we would; a weekend fling is barely a fling, yet somehow I know that this is just as confusing for him as it is for me. Just as I’m contemplating it even further, my phone buzzes and I almost drop it when I see Taehyung’s name. Heart skipping a beat, I answer it.

“Hey, beautiful.” His voice is deep and raspy as always, and I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing.

“Hey, handsome,” I reply, smiling wider than I should. “I’m back at the hotel; do you want to meet?”

“Yeah, I know. Hobi hyung saw you and your friend Max in the lobby. Are you free now? We should talk.”

“Um…” Technically, I’m free. I’m just in a towel. But there’s something different about his tone, apart from the fact that he wants to talk. “Where are you? I’ll meet you.”

“Oh, uh…” This time, he falters. “I’m actually on your floor… not too far from your room,” he adds, sounding slightly sheepish. “I’m sorry, I can wait. Let me know when you’re free.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” I say quickly. “You can come in. Just…” I look into the full-length mirror; aside from the fact that I’m in a towel with wet hair, I look okay. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” Phone still at my ear, I go to the door and look through the peephole. Even distorted, his figure takes my breath away. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, I open the door and step back behind it, letting him in. He enters and looks around for a moment before spotting me and his eyes widen.

“Oh… I can - I can come back if you’re - if you need a few minutes to -”

“Tae,” I interrupt, shutting the door behind him, “you saw me naked for hours last night. It’s okay.”

He raises an eyebrow in agreement. “True. You still look beautiful,” he says generously, kissing me on the cheek.

“So many compliments,” I remark teasingly, walking past him and into the bedroom so I can change. “Not all of us have stylists that can make us look all effortless and sexy all the time, you know.”

“How was the briefing?” he asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a low whistle as I let my towel drop.

Taehyung laughs as he follows me inside. “I’ve changed out of the sexy clothes now in any case, if that helps.” And he has. I don’t know how he manages to do it, but in the time I’ve known him, he’s gone from idol post concert, to boyfriend date material, to runway model, and back to cuddly boyfriend material. Now, in a baggy black sweater and dark grey joggers, I feel like climbing into bed with him and doing nothing else.

I throw the towel at him before starting to pull on my clothes. "It was okay. Just have to hope it doesn't rain tomorrow or we're going to have to prepare ourselves for a ton of crashes," I tell him, shuddering a little at the thought.

"What happened to the idiot who crashed into you?" Taehyung's question is casual enough, but I can hear the snippy edge to it. 

"He got a penalty. That's the best we can get, believe me," I add when he scoffs. "What, were you really that worried?" I ask again, a little teasingly this time, now fully dressed and walking up to him.

"Of course, I was," he says in a low voice, pulling me to him by the hand so I come between his legs, and wrapping his arms around my waist. "I think it might’ve killed me if you'd gotten hurt," he adds in a mumble, pulling me in further.

Rolling my eyes a bit at his dramatics, I hug him back automatically as he tilts his head slightly and rests his forehead on the side of my neck. Softly, I run my fingers through his long hair, breathing in his scent, overwhelmingly touched by how worried he was.

The longer we stay there, the more the hug seems to become less about my crash and more about just holding each other - no, clutching each other, but without making it obvious that we are.

"I need to tell you something," he says quietly after a while, his hold on me loosening slightly.

I pull away and step back. "Okay," I say slowly, suddenly nervous about what to expect. 

Taehyung stands up, hands in his pockets, head bent low as though contemplating what to say. "I know I was being a bit…" He's searching for the word, I realise. He's nervous. "... distant today," he says after a few moments. "I didn't realise how it would look to you. That you'd think that I didn't care or - or you were a fling or whatever."

His eyes flicker up to me for a moment, as though making sure I'm still here. "It was really the opposite, actually. I felt… a lot of things. It was confusing and - and I needed to figure it out by myself before I…" He trails off. "Basically, I think… Dilara, I think -"

My eyes widen the moment I realise what he's about to say. "Taehyung -"

"- I'm in love with you."

My heart jolts so hard I think it may break. "No," I breathe, realising too late that I've said it out loud.

His face falls very slightly, but remains the same smooth, impassive one I saw all day. He looks at the floor, hands still in his pockets and long hair obscuring his face from me, clearly processing a reaction he didn't expect.

"I'm - I'm sorry," I stutter. "I didn't mean… Tae, why would you tell me that?" I ask, hearing how desperate I sound.

He gives a small shrug. "It's how I feel."

"But… but you know nothing can happen," I say, shaking my head. "Why would you -"

"I know nothing can happen. I just want you to know how I feel," he says, and I think I hear a note of impatience there as well. When I don't reply, he scoffs. "What, is that so bad?"

"It's not bad at all, Tae," I say quickly, trying to blink back tears now. "But you're just making this harder! We know we can't be -"

"Dilara, I know, okay?" he snaps. "This is hard for me, too. You think I expected to fall in love with a world-famous athlete one fine weekend? You think I planned this?"

I bite my lip. "Do you regret it?"

"Meeting you? Not a single moment," he answers immediately. "I just want you to know." He pauses. "I'd want to know."

You know, though. It's obvious; he knows how I feel, too. The way he's looking at me, how he knew I'd follow him out of the drivers' lounge - it makes complete sense. I'm in love with him, too - not V of BTS, but Kim Taehyung, Tae, the man who knew to take me to hang out with puppies and slow danced with me in the middle of nowhere, who got jealous because he saw me do the same with another man.

"Tae…" I bite my lip, feeling my eyes prickle. “Of course, I -” But I can’t continue. Saying it is a whole lot different from simply feeling it; putting it out there, establishing that we love each other, especially when we know it can go nowhere - it’s insane.

I take a deep breath but it comes out all ragged and I cringe, hoping he doesn’t notice but it’s pointless, for a second later he’s walking up to me and taking my hands in his, gently pulling me closer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, running his thumb over my knuckles. “I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But I shake my head and look up at him. “I don’t regret anything either,” I tell him honestly. “I just… it’s a lot, you know? It’s scary.” He bites his lip, looking very much as though he’s trying to understand. I don’t know how else to put it, so I just reach up and kiss him, hard and deep, hoping it conveys what I need it to.

For a moment I think he’s going to push me away, but at the last moment he pulls me closer to him by my waist, so close, so tight, like he’s afraid he’ll never get the chance again. Which he might not, I think as I pull at his hair, and the thought makes me want to cry again.

We land up in bed, neither of us willing to let the other go. It’s a combination of haste, fear, desperation - and love. So much love. I may not be able to say it but I want him to know, too. I hold his face when I can, mark his neck and chest as much as I can, moan his name as loud as I can. Somewhere during it all, when Taehyung’s lowered himself down and has his head between my legs, I say it.

I don’t know if he’s heard it; it’s only a whisper and the only indication he gives me that he may have heard it is a slight pause with his tongue, where he pulls away for a moment and kisses my inner thigh before continuing. When we’re done, we’re done. I’m fucking exhausted, with being on my feet all day, a Qualifying, constantly worrying about whether or not I’ve been pseudo-dumped.

“I have to go,” says Taehyung after a while, voice soft and deep. I look up from where our fingers are intertwined on my torso, suddenly fearful. He turns to look at me and hurriedly adds, “Just for a while. We have to do a livestream on our last day in Japan and Namjoon hyung wants all of us there.”

I nod, not knowing how else to respond. “Okay. I’ll go get dinner, then. I’m sure Lexie has me on the most boring chicken and salad for race weekend, even in the land of sushi.” I’m rambling and I know it, as I sit up and start looking for my clothes, avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll see you after, okay?” Taehyung appears in my peripheral vision, pulling on his t-shirt and joggers. He ruffles his hair and we meet in front of the bed. There’s a moment where we don’t know what to do. I can tell he’s hesitating, the fact that I haven’t said I love him not skipping his mind. I don’t want to particularly prolong this either, but something just feels��� too much. It’s too overwhelming, the looming feeling of a goodbye to a person I barely know.

I see him raise his hand slightly, so I immediately take a small step back. “Yeah. See you later.” 

He drops his hand and nods. At the last moment, he kisses the top of my head and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

sweet night

An hour later, I get back to my room after an early dinner with Lexie. I told her everything - everything except the I love you part. She seemed to have pieced at least part of it together by the time I told her, but she hung on to every detail, gasping at all the right parts, whistling when I told her how good the sex was (because it so was).

She’d groaned more about the fact that I’d actually met some of them. “God, I hope they come to another race. Stupid food poisoning.”

Now, I stand alone in my bedroom, wondering what to do now. On a normal race weekend, I’d have dinner with Lexie (and Fred and Chris if they were there), take a warm shower, maybe go out for a walk with my earphones on, and go to bed early. Now, all I can think about is Taehyung - or, more specifically, the lack of Taehyung after tomorrow.

What am I supposed to do? Do we say goodbye? Is it a break-up? Or is it just an amicable farewell, acknowledging a fun weekend and going our own way? I might have thought it was the latter, until he blurted out the L word. I’m almost mad at him for complicating it like this, enough that I have half a mind to ghost him if he calls and avoid the shit out of him until I have to leave for my flight. It’s a bitchy, bitchy move, but it could just be the only way to avoid any real heartbreak.

A small, tiny part of me is happy, though. No, not happy. Ecstatic. A part of me is fucking ecstatic that he loves me, that Kim fucking Taehyung fell in love with me in less than two days, that average old me managed to confuse the sexiest, most talented and mysterious person I’ve ever met. Of course, I fell in love with him, too. There’s no point denying it now, not to myself. Weekend fling or not, I’m completely in love with Taehyung; I just don’t know where it takes us from here.

When I meet him later that night, I still don’t know. He calls me about half an hour after I’m done with dinner, asking if I want to come over. I can’t stay cooped up in a hotel room, though, so I suggest that we go to the gardens, to the most secluded area we can find. He agrees, and I meet him ten minutes later, wearing my leather jacket over a baggy Beatles t-shirt and sweatpants. Coincidentally enough, Tae’s still in the same light sweater and joggers, with a long black overcoat thrown on top of it.

You’re even wearing matching outfits. Jungkook’s voice rings through my head when I see him, when he sees me and he smiles. It’s not his normal boxy smile; it’s smaller, sadder, but so heartbreakingly beautiful that I can’t help it, and even before I say hi, I blurt it out.

“Saranghae.”

There’s a brief pause where he stares at me as if he’s heard it wrong - or I’ve said it wrong - and I want to slap myself for deliberately complicating it because, really, why did I have to go say it in Korean? Chris would lose his shit if he heard you right now, Komyshan. I take a deep breath, hoping to say literally anything to cover it up, but he smiles again and chuckles.

“Really?”

It’s out there now. I wait for the regret to come but looking at how obviously happy it makes him, I can’t seem to find it. I bite my lip, feeling myself smile as well. “Yeah. Saranghae… very much.”

That makes him laugh, his deep, throaty laugh as he walks over to me and hugs me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my head. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, and I know he means it. I hug him back, tightly, suddenly glad I’ve said it because it might just have been my only chance.

We don’t talk about anything deep after that; I think we both consciously stay away from it, not wanting our last night together to be any harder than it already is. I have a race tomorrow and he senses that I’m stressing almost immediately. So we talk about the race. I explain the track to him, why Suzuka is harder than most, why the expectations from me are sky high while I’m in the privileged yet unfortunate position to be Max Verstappen’s teammate. 

He listens with complete concentration. Eventually we sit under a clump of trees, nothing but us and the grass and softly chirping crickets. 

“It’s bad enough doing Suzuka for the first time,” I sigh, absently pulling blades of grass out of the ground. “But doing it from P9? So fucking unfair.” I want to kick something before I immediately remind myself to calm down. “Nope. Nope. I can’t… uh, I can’t do this.”

Taehyung frowns. “Can’t do what?”

“I can’t stress or get angry or - or do anything that takes my focus away from the race. Not tonight.” And it’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head. I know now, finally, what’s been bothering me all day, while he was supposedly ignoring me, when he told me he loved me, when I told him the same.

I must look troubled, for I feel his hand on my knee. “Dilara?”

My eyes rise slowly to meet his. “Tae,” I begin, swallowing, hating this but knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have to do this. He raises his eyebrows slightly in response. “I - can I ask you for something?”

He nods. “Anything.”

Goodbye, Tae. You’re going to hate me forever. I lick my lips slowly. “Can - can you…” I take in his big, concerned eyes, his long hair and how he’s biting down on his lip in anticipation, and it’s too hard. “Forget it. I can’t ask you to do that,” I say instead, shaking my head.

But he doesn’t let it go. “Dilara,” he says again, squeezing my knee. “Come on. Ask me.”

I think about how much he says he cares, how much he wants me to succeed. Maybe this is how I see if it’s true. “Can you - can you not come to the race tomorrow? To the paddock?” The silence that follows my question seems deafening. “It’s just… I need to focus tomorrow, more than ever. And with you there… I just don’t think that’s possible.”

Taehyung’s face is back to being its smooth, impassive one. I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for a moment I’m deathly afraid that I’ve said something very wrong. But then he nods once. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I say without thinking. “I just don’t know if I can handle -” I break off again but this time because my throat gets stuck and I can feel myself, finally, about to cry.

He seems to realise it, too. “Hey, no, don’t apologise,” he says softly, picking up my hands and bringing them to his chest. “Dilara, it’s okay. You’re going to be amazing tomorrow,” he tells me, bringing one hand up to my face and looking me right in the eyes. “Don’t worry about me. You’ll be great.” He chuckles softly, almost as though he’s just realised it himself. “You’re a force of nature, baby.” 

I nod, my vision starting to blur now. “Don’t forget me, okay?” I say quickly, sniffling and looking at the ground.

Taehyung scoffs quietly, and I can tell he’s on the verge of losing control, too. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he murmurs, reaching forward and kissing me. I lean into the kiss immediately, without question, without shame. He pulls me onto his lap and I comply, straddling him and holding his face, kissing him so deeply, knowing now with certainty that I will never get this chance again, that this is finally goodbye.

I can feel his ring against the side of my face as he kisses me back with the same desperation and longing, both of us forgetting where we are, what time it is, what’s to come tomorrow. It’s just Taehyung; there’s nothing else in the world for me right now. Our kisses are all lips and tongue and teeth, nipping at each other’s lips and grabbing whatever we can: shoulders, hair, waist, clothes, chest, hips. 

I don’t know when we separate and finally decide to walk back to the hotel building. We still have to keep a reasonable distance between us so we enter separately but get into the same elevator. The walk until there is silent; we’ve exhausted everything we needed to say to each other. Anymore and we break down and I, at the very least, cannot afford to do that tonight. I have to hold it in; I don’t have a choice.

Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones in the elevator. It’s a Japanese couple and businessman already in there when we enter, giving us no choice but to stand quietly, separately. My floor arrives before his but when the doors open, I’m suddenly rooted to the spot. It’s not until I feel Tae’s hand brush my back and nudge me forward that I actually step forward and out. As the doors close, I glance back one last time, seeing his smooth, impassive face looking back at me.

When I head back to my room, I shut the door behind me and pause. I have to collect myself; I cannot break down tonight. This race is too important and my Qualifying disadvantage means that I need double the focus, double the determination, double the mental strength to cut through the field and finish at a decent position. 

I take a seat on the sofa, breathing slowly through my nose, focusing on it as much as I can. I lean back when I feel something soft behind me. I reach for it and see a black hoodie, the same one I wore to a dog park a million years ago and the same one I saw this morning, thinking my one-night stand had accidentally forgotten it.

I pull out my phone and, hesitating, drop him a message. I have your hoodie, I write and send it. I don’t say anymore, like how it smells of him, how wearing it would probably feel like a hug from him, how much I’m hoping I can keep it.

The reply comes almost instantly. And I have yours.

---

The next morning when I wake up, my heart hurts and for a moment I can’t remember why. Then I feel the soft material of the hoodie I fell asleep clutching and I remember. Do not cry, I remind myself sternly. Not today. I bury my nose in the soft fleece interior for a moment and take a deep breath before I swing my legs over the side and get ready for the day.

I enter the restaurant for breakfast warily, but it’s pointless, for no one from the group is here yet. I suppose they’re sleeping in, given it’s a Sunday, for which I’m thankful. Lexie and I eat breakfast with Max and Dean and Lando and Blake, before heading down to the paddock.

I try to immerse myself in anything and everything that will distract me from how heavy my chest still feels. I focus on literally every word Christian and Simon say to me, trying to forget how deep Taehyung’s voice sounded in my ear; I go over my newly repaired car with the mechanics, trying to forget how Taehyung’s arms looked as he hovered over me in the grass on Friday. It’s near impossible, but I try my best.

Evidently it’s not working great, because something seems to show on my face. Max asks, Danny asks, Seb asks. Even Natalie Pinkham asks - on camera. I shake my head each time and make a joke about it simply being a resting bitch face, trying not to think about another resting bitch face I’ve come to know and love recently.

When the band enters the paddock, I can feel my heart in my mouth. I watch them pass by me, agonizingly counting only six members as they enter the garage. I try to avoid them. I feel like even the slightest reminder of Taehyung can reduce me to tears at any moment. It’s bad enough when Lexie tells me nonchalantly that apparently Tae is feeling under the weather which is why he isn’t here; even eye contact with those guys would be too much.

I hold it together with immense effort all through the day, during the pre-race build-up, the parade - everything. The real trouble comes just before the race, after I’m in my unzipped race suit, hair pinned back specifically so it fits comfortably inside the balaclava. Everyone’s wishing me luck since I’m due in the car in about five minutes; Christian is thanking the sponsors and chatting everyone up, and it’s too late before I realise the group that’s slowly forming around us.

The six BTS members present are finally here, for the customary picture or some sort of PR appearance, probably. I’ve seen them around the garage today, of course; they’ve all wished me luck at some point or the other, in passing. But seeing them here, all together - it just highlights the fact that one of them is missing… because I told him to be. When I look at the rest of the guys, I can’t help but imagine something accusatory in the way they’re looking at me.

My chest feels heavy again. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, or if it even matters. I suddenly feel so alone, so alone without him which doesn’t make sense, just like everything else. I’m twenty minutes away from the race, fifteen from being out there on the track, ten from settling inside the car - and I feel like my heart could break.

Before I know it, I can feel my face contorting and all my resolve to not cry since last night shatters, and I break down. Right there in the middle of the garage, in front of Lexie, Christian, Simon, a bunch of mechanics - and the members of BTS. I hide my face in my hand immediately, trying not to sob, and excuse myself, hurrying into my dressing room and shutting the door behind me.

All I can hope for is that the Red Bull folks think it’s nerves about my starting position and nothing else. BTS, I’m sure, will know it’s not but there’s nothing I can do about that. I don’t care what they think of me; they don’t know, I tell myself, how hard it is, how bleak it all seems now that it’s the end. There’s only one person who really knows and he’s not here, and it’s because of me, and it just hurts so bad. 

My phone buzzes. Are you okay?

I half-chuckle through my tears. I'm sure one of the members informed him the second I started crying - my money's on Jimin or Jungkook. How do I answer him, though? I can't lie; it's too much effort and also, I don't want to.

No.

Do you want me to come? I can be there in 20 minutes.

I picture him sitting in his room, hunched over his phone, his long-haired silhouette looking pristine against the grey sky outside. Is he worried? He sounds worried.

I have to be out on the track in 15.

I can't make up my mind about whether his next response is what I wanted. Don't worry, I'll be there.

Regardless, I have to go out now. This breakdown was embarrassing enough but I can't do badly in this race and have it be said that it's because I can't handle pressure. The F1 community would slaughter me and I'd probably ruin it for every other girl that wants to enter the sport.

So I go out, my media face plastered on and joke it away. Ten minutes later I'm strapped into the car and being carted onto the track. When it's thirty seconds to the formation lap, I grip my steering wheel, eyes blazing, looking at nothing but Carlos Sainz's rear wing in front of me and the gap I intend to leverage when the lights go out.

You're a force of nature, baby.

I grip the steering wheel harder. You're goddamn right I am. When the formation lap ends and we take our positions on the grid, my focus is singular. My foot is on the clutch, ready to release it at the right moment, when the lights go out.

When I climb out of my car two hours later, I don’t know what to expect, mostly because it’s so unexpected. I vaguely register the hands patting my head and my shoulder, Lewis coming up behind me and hugging me, running up to Max and practically jumping into his arms as he hugs me tightly.

I’m hot and sweaty as I take off my helmet and balaclava, shaking my hair out and hearing a roaring in my ears. I’m pushed forward for my interview but all I can hear is the cheering of the crowd, the booming of voices and the sound of my own heartbeat. I force myself to focus on Jenson Button, handsome face smiling down at me like the sun.

“Dilara!” he exclaims, holding the mic. “A sensational drive to P2 today! Congratulations - how do you feel right now?”

There’s a question. I’m still panting, feeling my face stretch from smiling. “Um - hasn’t sunk in yet, to be honest,” I say finally. “I knew it was going to be difficult because of where I was starting from and Suzuka doesn’t have a lot of overtaking capability, but…” I shrug, still trying to gather my thoughts. “We got lucky with the safety car and then Max had built up a really good lead so by the time I came out of the pits, we had the McLarens behind us by a decent gap, I think. But the real victory is for our mechanics,” I add honestly, hearing a cheer go up from the stands. “My car was shattered yesterday but they did it, you know? They fixed it and it felt perfect today, so… this is for you guys.”

Walking up onto the podium is surreal. It’s not the first time; it’s my third this year, actually, but never after a drive like this. P9 to P2 is all that’s ringing in my ears. I step up onto the second place dias, my overalls unzipped and hanging around my waist, my hair long and messy down my shoulders, my chest light and full. I know I’m going to cry - I’m pretty sure I already am. All the stress and anxiety feels worth it now, though, and as I scan the crowd, I know I can do this again. 

I see the Red Bull team - my team - looking up at a 1-2 result with victory in their eyes; Christian is applauding, crow’s feet visible even from this distance, Geri at his side looking radiant; all the ex-drivers from Jenson to Nico Rosberg, DC - everyone looks like they’ve experienced the race of the season. The Minister of Sports hands me my trophy then and a loud cheer goes up. I raise the trophy in the air and look back at my people: Lexie, looking happier than ever, standing next to BTS - and now I spot the face I’ve been wanting to see all day.

Looking up at me with a smile I’ve only dreamed about, Taehyung claps with everyone else, his long hair unstyled and blowing lightly in the breeze, wearing what looks like a black bomber jacket. From all the way up here, I can see the pride in his face, the euphoria, all the love he confessed he felt last night. Whether or not I was crying before this, I’m definitely crying now, still smiling but wiping away my tears as well.

He seems so far away but it makes my heart full to know that he’s here, that this proud and happy Taehyung is the last one I see before I leave. I blow him a small kiss, trying not to make it obvious but hoping he’ll know it’s for him. We hold each other’s gaze all through the anthem until everyone picks up the champagne and, less than a minute in, I’m drenched in cold liquor. 

We pose for the podium picture, me a whole head shorter than my companions but just as capable, still looking down only at Taehyung, the love I never saw coming, and who will forever be the one that got away. When we get off the podium and I take off my drenched fireproof top, the first person to hug me is Lexie. Right behind her, I see Jimin approaching me, his famous and beautiful smile wide and breathtaking. Ignoring my protests at how gross and sticky I am, he wraps his arms around me in a tight, enveloping hug.

“This is from Taehyung,” he says softly in my ear, and I nod into his shoulder, unable to stop the tears now.

“Is he still here?” I ask shakily, clutching at Jimin’s jacket, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head. “He left. But he watched the whole thing. And he’s so proud of you.”

It’s all I can ask for, understanding better than anyone that all our goodbyes were already said last night. Jimin pulls away and kisses me on the cheek, and I know it’s a goodbye from the guys as well, to a girl their Taehyung fell in love with.

I don’t expect to see him again. I don’t know what I would say, how it would help anything, how it could possibly make saying goodbye any easier. I’m leaving the hotel lobby with my suitcase in tow, spotting my cab waiting for me outside, Lando already settled in the backseat, when I hear the receptionist calling my name.

“A gentleman left this for you,” she says, handing me a small beige envelope. 

I frown, taking it. It's small; too small for a letter. I open it and turn it upside down and my heart skips a beat. It's a ring - a very familiar ring, white gold and probably meant to be worn on an index finger. There's no note or anything else, but I don't need one. The meaning is clear as day.

If I have to guess, I'd say seeing me today was as hard for Taehyung as it was for me to see him. Ithink back to the pause after I’d asked him not to come last night, and I know his heart is just as broken as mine is. If I know him as well as I think I do, he's saying it just as much as I wanted to - that this isn't goodbye.

Later that evening, I'm at the airport when I take a selfie with Lando. His arm is around my shoulder but all I'm focused on is the black hoodie I’m wearing, the V-shaped peace sign I'm making with my hand and the long silver chain around my neck which has a ring around it, resting right over my heart. Smiling with a myriad of emotions, I upload it.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[geminigirl0298]

Yellow (Part 3)

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki tells his mother about your relationship, and you decide to indulge him in one of his games.

A/N: This was beta'd by @green-mischief-managed. Here is the final part of Yellow! Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, and asked for more!

Word Count: 4.1 k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, minors DNI! Fingering (female receiving), oral sex (female receiving), masturbation, Asgardian age gap, praise kink, penetrative sex, cockwarming.

Part 2 Masterlist

PART 3

Loki had never thought his mother to be an intimidating person. Regal, royal, and respectable were among the adjectives he would use to describe the beloved queen. She was slow to anger, quick to forgive, and seldom ever raised her voice. In fact, Loki could not remember a time when he was ever fearful of the woman.

That was until today.

He and his mother kept a regular teatime once a week since he was a teenager. Although they ceased following his stint on Midgard, the duo had recently resumed the activity. Every Friday evening after Loki had completed his teaching for the day, he would saunter to his mother’s parlour for treats and conversation. You were almost always brought up. If not by him, Frigga was sure to ask about you, which was why he had missed their last three meetings.

Lessons, he would say. Meetings and training with Thor, extra tasks for his father that he would be vague and abrupt about in describing, when the truth was, he did not know how to broach the topic of the two of you. You, whom he had been secretly dating for what he deemed the best three weeks of his life. You, whom he had left curled up under the covers of his bed with a book and the promise of a late-night horse ride.

“Loki?” He looked up at his mother. “Your tea.” She handed him the cup, which he took with thanks. “You’ve missed our last few teatimes. I was sure you would cancel this one too.”

Loki gave his best rueful smile. “My apologies, mother. I had some business to attend to. Henceforth, all our Friday evening teatimes shall be kept.”

“Good.” Frigga took a sip of her tea. When she placed it down, she asked, “How is Y/N? I haven’t seen her for a few weeks now.” Loki bit back a wince. He had kindly requested that you steer clear of his mother until he had the chance to talk to her. You were confused, since you and the queen were fond of each other, but obliged.

“Y/N is well. Her training is advancing. Soon, she may no longer require my tutelage.” Frigga smiled.

“I heard you showed up at that ball a few weeks ago.”

“I did,” Loki confirmed.

Frigga poured herself some more tea. “You also made sporadic appearances at a number of them these past few weeks.”

Loki shrugged, trying to retain his nonchalance. “Decided it was high time I rejoined society.”

“And Y/N was seen with you at all of them. Some say you even danced with her.” Loki took a large sip of his tea. His mother dropped two cubes of sugar into hers. She stirred it with a careful hand, cerulean eyes holding his jade orbs. Loki placed his cup down.

“You know.”

“Know what?” Mischief sparkled in Frigga’s eyes.

“About myself and Y/N. You know, don’t you?”

Frigga placed her cup down next to his. Her smaller hand sought out his larger one. “I suspected,” she clarified. “I’ve always known Y/N harbored a crush on you, and I’ve long noticed that you are… softer with her. It was not until the palace started buzzing about you two did I think that things might have progressed.”

“They have progressed. Y/N has agreed to let me court her, and I have been for three weeks now.” He paused to assess his mother’s reaction. “Are you cross with me? My intent was not to hide this from you. I just could not decide how to tell you. The last thing I wanted was for you to think I was taking advantage of her, for I know how much you care about her.”

“Loki, I know you would not take advantage of her,” his mother said, then, as an afterthought, “but you are being cautious, correct?”

“Mother!” Loki blushed crimson.

Frigga held up a hand. “I know you are old enough and well versed in such matters. However, Y/N is not. I promised her mother I would look after her, and although you two have started a relationship, I will continue to do so.”

Loki looked down. Just that morning he had taken you up against the shelves of his study. In his defense, he had not intended to at all. You had both agreed not to let your relationship get in the way of your lesson times, but when he had helped you with a tricky spell and you kissed him by way of thanks, he could not help it. Loki had not had sex with you in days, and before either of you knew it he had your skirts up, pants around his ankles, and was thrusting into you while you moaned his name.

“I have not done anything she does not want me to do,” he promised, remembering how you had pleaded with him for more. Loki always gave you what you asked for.

The queen lifted a delicate brow. “So you respect her? Take care of her?”

“Yes, mother.”

“And you have explained to her the complexities that come with courting a prince? With courting you?” Elaboration was not necessary.

“Y/N is very gracious about my past. She does not judge me like the others. It is…”. Loki leaned forward. His palms became sweaty all of a sudden, and he wiped them on his pants. “It is different with her. I have had many lovers, though none quite like this. The way she makes me feel is like nothing I have ever felt before.”

Frigga, unbeknownst to him, had been hiding a knowing smile behind her cup. “Sounds like love.” He did not correct her, though his cheeks coloured. “If you are serious about her, then I support you. I have always liked Y/N, and should her mother have questions I will handle it. Although, if she comes to you first, I cannot stop her.”

Loki winced. He had met your mother on a number of occasions, and the woman was quite fiery. “Of course.” His mother pat his hand, and they returned to their tea in silence.

“Oh,” Frigga stopped mid-sip, as though she had just remembered something. “And do not let me hear a whisperabout you getting that girl pregnant. I shall ring your ear if I do.”

Loki choked on his tea.

ooOOoo

“I told my mother about us today.”

You looked up at Loki from where your head lay on his shoulder. It was nighttime, and you were both at a performance put on by a traveling troupe that came to the palace every year. They were one of your favourites, the group, and you always attended their plays with your friends. Usually you would sit down below with the rest of your friends, but dating a prince came with many perks. One of them was that you got a private viewing box all to yourselves high above the rest of the crowd.

“Is she upset with me?” Worry creased your brow as you turned to face him on the sofa. You loved the queen and hoped your relationship with her unproclaimed favourite son would not be an issue.

Loki took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Quite the opposite. She was actually more concerned about if I was treating you well.”

“You always treat me well.” You kissed his lips softly, and he did not attempt to deepen the kiss.

“She also warned me against getting you pregnant,” Loki murmured against your mouth. You let out a snort.

“The queen can rest assured that we are very astute in the prevention area.” You laid your head on his chest again and reflected on your time with the prince. Allowing him to court you had not been half as difficult as you had expected. Loki was a master of trickery, which made it easy to hide your new relationship. It was not that you were against telling people, rather that you wanted his mother’s blessing before you announced it.

Eir had already noticed something had changed between you and the prince. The more time you spent with him meant less time with her, and though you could tell she wanted to ask, she had not. You were grateful that she did not ask. Things between you and Loki were new and exciting and you cherished the extra time you spent as you got to know him in a different light.

The past few weeks felt like a dream. You had known Loki was different with you but agreeing to court him had opened a new door entirely. He was no longer your teacher, but your partner, and it was evident in everything he did. Monogamy was a concept you never expected the prince to adhere to, and every day he did took more of the weight off your shoulders. Loki was yours, and yours alone, and you were his.

Even your sex life was out of this realm. Loki had already been good, but now he knew every inch of your body. He knew what you liked and how you liked it, your tell before you came and when you were aroused, and he utilized that information to the best of his ability. You noticed that he had been extra careful not to play any games or tease you when you two were being intimate. After your fallout from the dance, he seemed as though he was scared to push you too far, and you could not help but wonder if he was being properly satisfied.

“Loki?”

“Yes, petal?”

You hid you face in his chest. When you spoke, your voice was muffled. “Are you happy with our sex life?”

“Yes,” he answered, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Are you sure?” you squeaked. “Because you can tell me if not. I won’t be angry, I promise.”

Loki lifted your chin. His forehead was creased in concern. “Where is this coming from? Has someone said something to you?”

“No,” you blushed deep. “I mean, I know you finish, but I can’t help wondering if you’ve curbed your appetite for me.”

A dark brow lifted. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you like games.” Understanding dawned on him.

“There’s very little I haven’t done in bed, that’s correct,” he admitted. “I am a flexible creature by nature. It’s easy for me to adapt to what my lovers want, and I have developed a wide taste due to that.” He took your hand in his. “That does not mean I need to do those things. I am quite content deferring to your lead.”

“Okay,” you murmured. Your head hit his chest again. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin. “Although… if you wanted to try something different, I would not be opposed.”

You felt Loki perk up. “Really?”

“Yeah…”. Your face was heated, and you knew your cheeks were crimson. “If it’s nothing too out there, I’d be willing to try.”

“Petal, look at me. Please.” Your eyes met his. A collective, raucous laugh rang out from the crowd below. “I would love to try something different with you, but first I need to know your limits. Tell me the things that are off the table. Things that you do not want to try under any circumstance.”

You thought for a bit. Sex was new territory for you, though you did have some friends who were quite experienced. They had told you of their many escapades and from that, you could pick a few things that did not interest you. “Spanking,” you murmured. “I don’t think I’d like that. Being tied up is another. Choking. Anything that would cause me pain, basically.”

Loki looked at you intently. He was taking what you said with an air of seriousness you did not expect. “Noted. I think I have something in mind you’d like.” His hands moved to your hips. “If I put up an illusion, would you like to try it here?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes drifting to the people around you. “No one would see us?”

“No one. I promise.” He placed his forehead against yours. There was not one hint of a joke in his green eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to give you a safe word. That is not what’s happening here. If you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. Understood?”

“Yes. I trust you.” He grinned, then kissed your forehead.

“Good girl. Stand up for me?” You did, and saw the telltale green line of seidr rise up around you. “Remove your underwear.” Your hands reached under you to tug on the material. Using a shifting motion, you shimmied them down until they were on the floor. Loki reached for you and pulled you closer. His seat was low, so his face sat level with your pelvis. He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder.

“Loki!” You gasped when his mouth made contact with your core. A hand went to his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Your mouth fell open when you felt his hot tongue slide through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured. “Always so wet for me. Like a fucking waterfall.” He leaned back then, letting your leg fall to the side. His hands went to his pants. In no time at all, he had his cock free and standing upright in front of you. “Turn around and lift your skirts.”

You bit your lip, turning to face the rest of the auditorium. No one could see you lift your skirts thanks to Loki’s spell. His hands were on your waist then, moving you towards his lap. You felt the head of his cock brush your folds and let out a surprised gasp.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” You looked down. He had one hand on his shaft, holding it to your entrance, and the other was at your hip. “You’re going to take a seat on my cock, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled. He guided you onto him with care. You had never been on top before. The head of him felt bigger at this angle, and you whimpered as your walls stretched to accommodate all of him. He was so deep in this position. You would not be surprised if he reached all the way to your cervix.

“Petal?” His lips were at your shoulder, placing kisses on the skin. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” you whimpered, and he chuckled. “You’re so big!”

“Thank you.” He kissed the back of your head. You rocked your head against his shoulder and waited for him to start moving. After a few seconds, you noticed he was sitting still.

“Loki…” you whined.

“Yes, petal?”

You shifted your hips, walls clenching around his cock. “Move, please.”

“Not yet, okay?” You whipped your head around to look at him, eyes wide in disbelief. “Let’s just watch the play first.” Your mouth turned down. Loki took hold of your chin and returned your head to the stage below. “I’ll take care of you after, I promise. Try to relax.”

You tried to relax— you really did. Your pussy was clenching on his cock and there was a need burning within you, and yet still you attempted to pay attention to the play below. You had no idea what act they were even on. All your mind could focus on was Loki’s cock inside of you and how hard it was to keep from moving. The difficulty of this task ramped up when his nimble fingers untied the knot behind your neck and the top of your dress fell to your waist.

Loki’s hands went to your bare breasts, cupping and kneading the flesh in a way that made you squirm. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, making them impossibly hard. Your eyes closed with a moan. Within you or on you, Loki’s talented fingers knew no bounds. He kept up his motions until you were grinding your hips down on his cock.

“I told you to relax, petal,” he admonished. One of his arms wrapped around you to keep you still. The other went to your mouth, presenting two fingers to you. “Get these nice and wet for me, won’t you?” You parted your lips to allow them entrance. Once Loki was sure you had adequately wet them, he removed them. “Good girl.”

A cry left your lips when his fingers touched your throbbing clit. You tried to close your legs, but Loki was quicker. He grabbed your legs and threw them over either of his, then parted his own legs wide. Now you were spread out for him. With your dress bunched around your waist, breasts free and wet cunt on display, you were extra glad for his illusion. You just knew you looked like a whore moaning and writhing on his lap.

“Just a little longer, petal,” Loki whispered in your ear. He kissed the side of your face, cock twitching within you. “You’re doing so well for me.” You could hear the strain in his voice. His hand stayed around your waist, fingers toying with your clit at regular intervals. You jumped as a wave of pleasure rolled through you. He shushed you. “Try not to cum, okay? The play is almost over.”

There was no real danger of you finishing early. As well as Loki knew how to bring you to a gasping end, he knew how to keep you on edge. His fingers were not circling your clit at the correct intensity. They moved at a leisurely pace, keeping that tightness in your core but not allowing you to reach your end. Here, he could keep you teetering for as long as he desired.

Your fingers dug into his thighs. Your toes curled, nails scraping against the sofa. Loki pressed your clit and your back arched off him with a yell. Tears sprang to your eyes. You could not hold on anymore. You needed to cum, and you needed to cum now.

“Loki!” His name came out as a sob. “I can’t.” That seemed to flip a switch in him. You were off his cock in seconds and seated on the bannister. His hands were smoothing back your hair, lips pressing against your sweaty cheeks.

“It’s okay, sweet thing,” he was saying. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you now. You did so well for me. Hold on to the railing.” Your hands gripped the golden bar behind you. He slid into you without delay and your head fell back. You could see the rest of the crowd behind you, up in the boxes around. All their attention was focused on the play.

You moaned when Loki began to thrust into you. His pace was faster than usual. He gripped your hips with a bruising force and rolled into you. You knew the little game had affected him too. It did not matter how experienced he was. You had heard the strain in his voice and felt his shaft jumping inside you the entire time you were on him.

Loki grabbed one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. His other hand grasped the back of your head. He tugged on your hair, exposing your neck to an onslaught of kisses and nibbles. His hands moved to the railing behind you. A particularly hard thrust had your back hitting the railing. Shocked, you let go of it. Your upper body fell backward, and you screamed. “Loki!”

He grabbed you with one strong arm. His thrusting stopped, wide eyes running over your face. “Petal? Are you okay?”

You turned your head to look down at the crowd below. They were all still focused on the play. Not a single one of them had noticed your near fall. “Yeah.” Your heart raced in your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Put your arms around my neck.” You obeyed. He lifted you off the bannister and sat back on the sofa, positioning your legs on either side of him. Gripping your hips, he began moving you in a rolling motion. “That should be better.”

“Hmhm.” You nodded. He felt different in you like this. It was slower, more intimate. You could feel every ridge of his cock massaging your walls with each thrust. He dipped his head to take your left nipple in his mouth and you moaned. Both your hands tangled in his hair, trapping his head in place against you.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. His lips found the valley between your breasts and gave it a kiss. “Use two fingers and play with clit for me.”

Touching yourself was not something you had done before. There were times when you had wanted to, but you were too shy to go through with it. Loki had tried to get you to do it for him once and you could not. You let two of your fingers travel down to your nub. Slowly, you started circling the bundle of nerves in a clockwise motion like you had seen him do. “Like this?”

“Yes, just like that.” Loki was just as breathless as you. His eyes zeroed in on your fingers below and darkened. “Fuck, you look so good.” He brought your head down so he could whisper in your ear. “How does that feel?”

“Good,” you whimpered. He ground his hips up into you, hitting a spot inside that you knew would make you come undone. “It feels good.” Loki grinned.

“You like playing with yourself?” You nodded. “Will you do it again for me sometime? Let me watch you play with yourself?” Red coloured your cheeks. “If I lay you back against my desk in the study, will you fuck your sweet cunt with your fingers until you cum all over yourself? Tell me, sweet thing.”

“Y-yes,” you whispered. “Anything you want.”

You felt Loki’s hand replace yours. He pressed his thumb against your nub and began that pace that always got you over the edge. “Good girl. Cum for me, now. Cum hard.” That was all the encouragement you needed. A few more circles had your walls clenching around him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Loki came not long after. He yelled out when his orgasm hit, grinding into you as you lay whimpering on his shoulder. Your entire body felt sweaty and spent. You let him ride out his high until his hips came to a stop.

“Petal?” You made an incoherent noise. Loki rubbed a hand up and down your back. “Are you okay?” You nodded. “Want me to take you to bed?” Another nod. “Okay.” You felt him fix your dress back in place.

“I can’t walk,” you whimpered. “My legs are shaking.”

Loki lifted you without a word. You heard the swoosh of a portal open, and then he stepped into his bedroom.

ooOOoo

Instead of taking you straight to bed, Loki took you into his bathroom first. As tired as you were, he knew you would feel better after a bath. You whined when he tried to put you in. He had long noticed that you were clingy after he had sex with you, and he loved it. You clung to his neck and would not let go, so he just got into the tub with you.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sliding you under the covers and tucking you in. You whimpered when his hands left you. “Stay.”

“I’m staying, my sweet.” He got in beside you and you curled up against him at once. His lips sought out your forehead, giving it a kiss. “I have to get up early in the morning for a meeting, but feel free to sleep in. No one will bother you here.”

You turned sleepy eyes on him. “Will you be gone long?”

“Expect me back before noon. We can have lunch together if you want.”

“Yes, please.” Your head nuzzled into his neck. You were silent for a long time, so he thought you had fallen asleep. Loki was just beginning to doze off when he heard your voice again. “Loki?”

“Yes, sweet thing?”

It was soft, what you said next. Had Loki’s hearing not been on a godly level, he might not have heard it, and though you succumbed to sleep right after, the mumbled words fell from your lips like a prayer. “I love you.”

You had never said that to him before. Alluded, sure, but never had the three words left your lips. Smiling to himself, Loki pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you too.”

END

Taglist: @sharris8 @dreams-in-blxck @dren-whalen @queen-of-mischief @lokistoriesblog @high-functioning-lokipath @chiyongberry @itshemlxck @sophiaedits @sunshinexweasley @immersed-in-mischief

[thesunmeltedthegrayaway]

Fluff Alphabet: Dallas Winston Edition

A/N: I love reading little headcannons like this so I thought I would give it a go myself.

If you want to request another character just send it to my ask.

The template is comprised of multiple different templates lol

~~~

A = Affection (How affectionate are they?)

It depends on the situation, if he's around the gang or Shepard's gang then you aren't going to get any affection. But, if you're alone or if someone is trying to flirt with you then he's extremely affectionate.

B = Beauty (do what they admire their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Besides your looks, I feel like Dally would admire your fiery personality or passion for something/someone you really care about.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

You're most likely the one to initiate it so you always end up in the same position. Your arms are wrapped around him and your head is in the crook of his neck.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

You're either at Bucks, just taking a drive, or are at the Drive-in. Your dates are simple, there is nothing too fancy about them.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotions around you?)

You're usually the one to get him to express his emotions whether it be from an intense interrogation from you or you get into a fight about it.

F = Fight ( Would it be easy to forgive their s/o?)

I feel like Dallas is extremely stubborn so he wouldn't forgive or apologize to you right off the bat. (Mostly because he thinks he's in the right 99% of the time.)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It took a little bit for him to be less abrasive around you. But when he finally lets go of his past experiences with Slyvia he can be surprisingly soft.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He doesn't hold hands with you often, only really ever doing it when he's jealous.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He would be livid if you got hurt and if he finds the person who hurt you well... let's just say you might have to bail him out of jail.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Dallas gets really jealous and when he does get jealous he'll approach you, wrap his arms around your waist and just glare at whoever is trying to get with you. If that said person doesn't get the hint Dallas would pretty much just drag you away from them at that point.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Kisses with Dallas are usually a bit... messy.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I feel like he would rarely say I love you so he'd either give you his Christopher. He'd show his love through actions rather than words.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you agreed to go out with him. It would be a day/night he would never forget.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Let's be real here. it would either be at Bucks or your place. He may or may not always be sober either...

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He would definitely wait a while before he opened up to you about his past and he wouldn't just blurt everything out at once.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He surprisingly has pretty go patience with you, but if someone else is messing or trying to do something with you that's when he goes off.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

As long as he's with you he's not too picky about what the two of you do. But he has to admit when you get really into explaining something that you like. He loves to just watch the passion and joy on your face as you ramble on about whatever it is you're talking about.

R = Romance (How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Dallas Winston is the exact opposite of Cliché and I feel like he isn't the most romantic person out there.

S = Security (How protective are they?)

Extremely protective... again someone messes with you Dallas is ending up in cuffs.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

A while, even if you guys were friends for a while it would take a lot for Dallas to get into another relationship after Sylvia.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He's unsure of what to do to calm you down. Usually, he'll just let you rant or cry it out.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He takes some pride in his looks but he's not overly concerned about them.

W = Wildcard (random headcannon)

"Johnny... tell me I shouldn't go for it."

Johnny stared at him tentatively, he watched and listened as Dally ranted about you and the feelings he didn't want to have for you.

"She isn't her Dal, don't hold yourself back because you're scared to get hurt again. Y/N isn't going to treat you like Sylvia did."

"But-"

"Go for it Dal, go for it."

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

At first, he wasn't able to read you too well. But as time passed he can tell instantly how you're really feeling.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

A cheater, or someone who is disingenuous.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?

Just listening to your voice.