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jeonstudios · 4 months ago

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dextrocardia | 14

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 9.7k

warnings: a LOT of bodyshaming and fathobia and sexism

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 14/?

“I hope you know that I appreciate all the things you’ve been telling me. I know it can’t be easy, all the things you’ve gone through. So I appreciate it, even if I unfortunately…”

“Don’t have much to say?” you smile at him as you turn to close his bedroom door behind you.

“Yeah. It’s a lot different than when I’m talking to someone who maybe just got out of a… situation because, while that’s always hard, you just have to listen and assure them they did the right thing, going to the cops and that we’ll guide them through the rest and hopefully help them get justice. That it wasn’t their fault, you know? But you know all that already, and I’m not much help; in fact, I was a big part of your problem and going to the police probably made it worse in your case because we let you down instead of helping you.”

It’s sad, the way he says it, reaching for the collar of his t-shirt at the back of his neck. He pulls it over his head before he suddenly stops, the shirt stuck across his lowered arms. You meet his deer-in-the-headlights eyes and see how it dawns on him that despite explaining earlier that he wants to keep his shirt on–at least with you in the house?–he hasn’t actually been committing to that promise. You wonder if it had anything to do with his scars, if he wanted to spare you from seeing them or just not risk you being uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, take it off,” you comment casually, “but do know that I might warm my cold feet against your skin.”

He grins, finally removing the shirt entirely and throwing it onto the chair in the corner. “Feel free.”

Flicking the lights off, Jeongguk joins you in the dark, getting under the duvet and getting comfortable.

It’s silent for a while, and you’re halfway between sleep and consciousness when Jeongguk says something you definitely weren’t expecting.

“Are you still scared of me?”

You roll over to face him, even though the room is almost pitch black.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I think that I will always be aware… of what you can do. Even right now, if you in this moment decided to hurt me, there would be nothing I could do about it. I can spend my days in the gym but odds are a vast majority of men could overpower me anyway. If I were to trust my gut, it would say that you’re a… good guy, but I know that most women murdered by a man they knew or even their male partners didn’t fall for someone openly abusive. They’re sweet at the start, and then they change. Hoseong was like that too; kind until he wasn’t. I know you know that because he fooled you too.

“When it comes to you, I think the only reason I’m here with you is because of what you did that night. I would’ve found any reason to believe that you were still playing a game of making me trust you, just waiting for the right moment to strike, if I hadn’t seen you fight them. No matter how talented of an actor you are, they were prepared to kill you, and you… were prepared to die.

“And this…” you move your hand under the sheets, tentatively finding his chest and the scar. “I don’t like looking at it, and it feels like it’s my fault your mom almost lost her son, but it’s also… almost a relief. I don’t have to second-guess if you really want to help me or if it’s just a long con to… finish something. But like I said… just because you haven’t tried to kill me yet doesn’t statistically mean you won’t. I don’t think you will, but then again, there are a lot of dead women who probably wouldn’t have imagined their murderer being someone they knew.”

Jeongguk places his hand over yours on his chest. “For what it’s worth, I could never hurt you. I know I did; that I hurt you emotionally and scared you, but not even when I thought you were the most selfish person on the planet would I have physically hurt you.”

“I will let the fact that I came to live with you speak for how I feel about you, or at least want to feel about you. Also the fact that I’m sleeping in your bed with you.”

“That you find me entirely irresistible, dying to be close to me at all times?”

You roll your eyes, however, blood rushes to your cheeks. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good that we’re on the same page then, cause I’m kinda stuck on the fact that you kissed me.”

Inevitably, your cheeks warm up further, but it’s okay since it’s dark anyway.

“I did. It was a good kiss.”

“Yeah. I totally wouldn’t hate it if you did it again. In fact, I am open to kisses anytime, just as I am hand-holding.”

“You’re sure? Even from me?”

You hate that you have to ask, but… you do.

“Absolutely.”

You consider it for a moment, but eventually decide to trust his words, at least tonight. Empowered by the dark, you move your hand from his chest. It travels over his warm neck before it reaches his jaw. Your heart beats so hard you’re almost convinced he can hear it, but you ignore it and move closer. Despite the dark, you see his face and how he’s smiling, patiently waiting. It’s both a blessing and a hellish curse how handsome he is; he truly takes your breath away.

Using your hand, you move your hair away, and you lean down to connect your lips. His are so soft, and he kisses you back so sweetly, letting you set the pace. You move your mouth against his, pulling back an inch just to do it again. Jeongguk lets his hand hold your waist, and even though kissing him is… a dream, you’re reminded that there’s a limit you’re not comfortable crossing.

So you pull back, but you still let him hold your waist.

“There.”

You fall asleep quicker than the nights before. A few hours later–and a few hours before morning–you blink your eyes open, finding yourself entangled with him. You’ve got your arm thrown over his middle, your cheek resting on his naked chest, right below his chin, and one of your legs lies between his.

For a while, you listen to his breaths, thinking about what it is that you’re doing. He’s so warm, and he feels so… safe, but there’s still a certain thought in your head.

When you wake up the next time, you’re once again alone in Jeongguk’s bed, and the first thought crossing your mind is how unnecessary boarding up your window really was when you’re practically almost always sleeping in his bed these days. Also, does he count on being able to hear a potential intruder trying to break in through his window? Because there is one, and it’s definitely not boarded up.

Your curiosity grows when you hear Jeongguk move throughout the house, and the sound of a…. what is that?

Rolling out of his bed, you yawn as you open the bedroom door to almost run head first into a stressed-looking Jeongguk. The sound you heard you identify as the now turned off blow dryer, something you’ve borrowed yourself but never seen him use. Looking up, you realize that, yeah, his hair is still wet from a shower and blow drying it means that he either doesn’t want to wait for it to air dry or he can’t.

“You’re going to the station?” you ask, noticing that he is actually indeed wearing his dark blue, almost black uniform.

“Yeah, uh, multiple trafficking victims on their way. Want to be there before they arrive.”

A very specific feeling moves through your chest; an uncomfortable sadness that someone has most likely been through hell, but there’s a warmth there too, for Jeongguk.

“What are you looking for?”

He looks around, patting his pockets, “Uhm, I have my phone, wallet, house keys. I need the… bike key and the helmet. The helmet is probably in the garage, but I’m not sure where the key is.”

You blink, trying to remember what jacket he was wearing the last time you recall him using the bike. The leather one, right? You step up to the coat rack, looking through the jackets until you find it. Swiftly, you search the pockets until…

“Found it. Do I put it in your uniform jacket?”

“Oh, thank you. Yes, please,” he says over the sound of the blow dryer that he grabs once more.

You watch him dry his hair, incessantly running his fingers through it to speed up the process. A few minutes later, he turns the machine off and runs his fingers through the black hair one last time, “It’ll have to do.”

Then, he’s gathering his stuff, taking the jacket from your hands and heading toward the door leading to the garage as he throws it on. “Not sure when I’ll be back, it might take a while cause I don’t know how many they are or what they’ve been through, but I can update you?”

“Jeongguk?”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Come here for a second.”

Confused, he takes the four steps until he’s in front of you looking down curiously but a little stressed at you.

You smile at him, at how pretty and caring he is. “Be careful.”

He grins, a little surprised. “I always am. But it’s mostly just letting them talk and writing it all down, and–”

“I meant on the road. With the bike. I know you can handle the case.”

“Oh. Will do.”

For a millisecond, he looks at you, his bottom lip bitten. Then he’s pulling you closer by your waist, pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll see you later.”

With warm cheeks, you watch him enter the garage, thinking of his kind, brown eyes. You don’t know what to feel.

When Jeongguk returns, he’s angry. He doesn’t say much except frustratingly relaying that apparently, one of the women had called the police about a creepy neighbor appearing to watch her house six months ago. The two officers sent did absolutely nothing at all. Couldn’t offer any protection, didn’t talk to the neighbor, couldn’t even give the woman any advice, just left. Two weeks later, the neighbor takes her. You understand Jeongguk’s frustration toward the system, but when he’s spent two hours in the gym without any kind of break, you decide to check up on him.

You hear the brutal beating of the punching bag long before you spot him.

“How are you doing? You’ve been in here a while…”

Jeongguk stops and looks at you from behind the sand-filled bag, breathing heavily. He’s shirtless, and there’s sweat covering his skin and wetting his hair.

“I’m alright.”

But you can tell that he’s frustrated by the turmoil in his eyes. Although it’s hot to see him work out, you don’t like seeing him like this. It has an uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach.

“You’re doing what you can.”

“Yet there’s always more to do. It never ends, and it’s never enough.”

He’s definitely right about that, but does it help to be so worked up about it? Or are you the weird one, more likely to go apathetic when reminded of the injustices of the world these days?

“But you did your part today, and I know you made an impact in their lives.”

He looks disappointedly at the sandbag, as if your words didn’t affect him at all.

“Hey,” you call softly. He looks at you.

“If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

‘Right now’ as in alive.

“But I–”

“If you never transferred, they would’ve gotten me at this point.”

“Bare minimum,” is all he mumbles.

“It meant a lot to me. Everything, actually. And I’m really grateful.”

At that, he finally smiles a little, and you find yourself dangerously lost in his eyes again.

Thirty minutes later, at nine p.m., the power goes out. You stop what you’re doing, your hand, holding the kettle frozen in mid air over the mug. Even the very, very low humming of the fridge and freezer stops. You put the kettle down, glad that you probably managed to fill your mug with enough tea water.

Where is your roommate? Last you heard, he was about to take a shower.

“Jeongguk?” you call, but the moment you peek out into the hallway, you run straight into him, still wet from the shower and with a towel around his hips, you think.

“What happened?” he asks, his hands steadying your elbows.

“Uh? I don’t know? I was pouring tea and the lights and everything went out.”

“Oh? So that means it wasn’t our doing. I’ll check if there’s a blown fuse; you never know.”

“Okay,” you pat the pockets of your sweatpants, “Here’s my phone if you want a flashlight.”

“Thanks,” he nods, grabbing it from your hand.

He taps the screen to turn the flashlight function on, the light pointed down immediately illuminating every little crevice in his abs and the glints of water still on his skin. The white towel hangs low, exposing a bit of a happy trail.

You look away, and Jeongguk, seemingly none the wiser, turns around to find the fuse box somewhere other than in the kitchen, guided by your phone.

Sighing to yourself the moment you’re alone again, you go back to your tea, removing the bag from the mug. Opening the fridge, you’re once again reminded of how dependent on electricity you are when the open door doesn’t trigger the built in light. Still, you find the milk, and you manage to pour a little bit into the mug and put the container back in the still chilly fridge.

By the time you finish stirring the tea spoon around, you hear Jeongguk’s steps approaching you, and you see the ray of light illuminate the floor in front of him.

“No blown fuses. I’m gonna see if there’s anything on the provider’s site or else I’ll give them a call.”

“Are you gonna get dressed as well, or?” you joke, watching him smile cheekily.

“Yeah. I was just barely done washing my hair when the light went out.”

“I can see that; you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Sorry,” he says and shakes his head like a dog, launching drops of water at your clothes and face.

“Jeongguk!”

Laughing, he leaves the kitchen and steps out into the dark.

“What if I slip and fall?” you call after him, wiping the drops from your face before returning to your mug to take a test sip. It tastes good, but you’ll definitely try to remember to buy honey next time you go grocery shopping because you’re a sucker for a little sweetness.

Half a minute later, you hear footsteps approaching, and when you turn around from the sink, Jeongguk is drying the floor with the towel he was just using, now wearing what looks like a pair of sweatpants of his own. He doesn’t say anything, just makes sure the floor is dry and then he leaves again, much to your amusement. Like you said; you’re a sucker for sweetness.

While he’s gone, you use your phone’s flashlight to pour the rest of the water into another mug in case Jeongguk wants some tea too. Then you venture carefully into the living room, trying not to spill the hot contents. It goes without accidents, and so you set the mug down onto the coffee table before reaching for the remote. Which doesn’t work.

“Fuck, no TV,” you mutter to yourself. And you’ve used your laptop without the charger all day. Even more fuck.

“Jeongguk, is your laptop charged?” you call out, praying to the gods.

“Uh, yeah,” he appears behind you, having matched a black hoodie to his gray sweatpants.

He’s holding something in his arms, a lot of smaller things. Candles, you realize when he leans down to gently dump them onto the table. From his pocket he then produces a lighter.

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, lighting the candles one by one, the coziness factor doubling with every flame added.

“I was gonna watch this documentary, but my laptop isn’t charged,” you pout. “Oh, and also, the Wifi won’t work.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Mine should be fully charged. And we can use my mobile data.”

Wow, way to flex.

“Great. I made tea, do you want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

While he goes to grab his laptop, you return to the kitchen to fix his mug of tea as well, returning as he’s setting everything up, the screen illuminating his face where he sits on the couch. The flickering candles are doing their best too, casting a more yellowy glow across the room.

“Thanks,” he says once more when you place the mug in front of him. “Here.”

You accept the laptop, navigating to the specific streaming site and the documentary released just last week about the development of the space shuttles. Due to the size difference between Jeongguk’s TV and that of his laptop, you take your seat closer to him than usual.

Jeongguk sips his tea, but the moment he’s put the mug back safely on the table and is leaning back against the couch and watching the screen, he slowly lets his hand find yours.

In turn, you find yourself moving closer, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smells nice, and he feels nice. And it’s suddenly like someone started some kind of wordless game. You don’t say anything, but there’s also a kind of tension that builds, no less in your body.

Perhaps also feeling the… electricity building, Jeongguk makes his next move, this time slowly lifting his arm to put around you, making you lean against his chest instead. The action has his hoodie riding up just a little, exposing a sliver of his stomach.

When it’s your turn again–and you feel your shared anticipation grow–you try to psych yourself up. He likes you, he likes you.

So, you place your hand on the exposed section of skin, caressing it carefully with your thumb.

Besides the documentary, it’s quiet, although you’re almost positive Jeongguk can hear your heart beat erratically; it’s definitely beating loudly in your ears. For his next turn, Jeongguk somehow both swiftly and slowly pulls you onto his lap, and before you know it, you’re straddling him, staring down at his smiling face.

The narrator speaks in the background, but you can only focus on Jeongguk and how your heart might soon beat its way out of your chest.

You could kiss him. You could.

He looks at you like he’s hoping for it but not expecting it, and you pray to God he actually does want you to. Because you want to kiss him so badly.

He’s got his gentle hands on your thighs, and you place yours softly on his face, holding his jaw and rubbing your thumbs slowly over his cheeks. Until you move one thumb and press it even softer against his lips.

This man is too good to be true, he has to be. As you let your eyes admire him, you think about the fact that, even if you disregard how he literally took a sword to the heart for you, he’s done more for you in the short period of time you’ve known him than any other man in your life.

So you move your finger from his mouth, nervously switching it out for your lips. You can’t even describe how much you like kissing him. When it’s sweet and innocent and just lips and a wordless confession of ‘I like you,’ or when you use a little tongue, and he chooses to follow your lead, kissing you back with the same growing heat. But there’s still something bothering you that you can’t ignore.

In the midst, you pull back an inch, eyes glued to his lips to avoid his eyes. “I like kissing you, but… “

“But what?” he wonders, his hands drawing innocent shapes on your thighs. Your heart pumps even harder as you choose your next words.

“I’m not really your type.”

He smiles, looking carefree, “You are. I think you’re a sweet girl.”

Jeongguk kisses you again, and you try not to think about it, but even with his lips against yours, it’s hard. A sweet girl. Letting one of your hands fall from his face, you grab the collar of his hoodie, clumsily placing your hand inside it to touch his chest, feeling for the scar.

Taking it as you wanting it off, he pulls away to yank the hoodie over his head, and it ends up somewhere toward the end of the couch. Even without it, his bare skin is just as warm under your hands, but before you know it, you’re on your back on the couch, and he’s above you. He’s very sweet, and in this moment–with your hands splayed across his back and the scar there–you know he won’t hurt you.

A sweet girl.

Right?

A sweet girl. You hear the voices and feel the anxiety and fear return to fill you. You go with the flow, unsure of what to think or do. Jeongguk helps you out of your shirt and then your bra, and you watch him sit back to throw them onto the floor somewhere.

But the moment he returns his attention to you underneath him, he stops. Because you’re covering your naked chest with your hands like your life depends on it, eyes teary and absolutely and helplessly begging him to look anywhere but at you.

He still does, and you can tell he’s surprised, his wide eyes taking in the situation from above you.

So you plead quietly, “Please don’t look at me.”

It takes half a second, and he’s immediately closing his eyes, turning to feel around for something behind him. Your shirt probably lies somewhere farther away on the floor, and so his black hoodie is what he ends up grabbing, handing it to you still with his eyes closed.

And he of course moves off of you, the only sounds in the room being the documentary, the slight rustling as you’re putting the hoodie on, and your quiet breaths.

When he assumes you’re dressed, he opens his eyes, heart visibly breaking when he sees how absolutely shaken to the core you look, hugging your body and sitting up. You turn your eyes to the documentary on the screen even though both of you know you haven’t been watching it.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts to explain, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, wanting desperately not to make a big deal out of it. If you could just will your hands to stop shaking.

“No, I–”

“Jeongguk, please. I’m fine, okay. I’m not… I’m not ready, but… Can we not talk about it, please?”

Reluctantly, you meet his eyes and see the somber worry in them as he watches you from where he’s sitting, still shirtless.

“Okay. If there’s anything I can do…”

You smile tentatively at him, desperate to move on from the subject, “Watch the rest of the documentary with me?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, “I’ll, uh, go and change so you can get your hoodie back.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Keep it,” he’s quick to rise to his feet, already on his way somewhere–presumably his bedroom.

The forty seconds he’s gone you use to calm your breathing and stabilize your voice. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t going too fast or not listening to you. He listened to what you gave him; you, yourself only figured out where exactly the line was drawn when it was basically already crossed.

He’s wearing a black t-shirt when he returns, taking a seat next to you and focusing his eyes on the screen, probably more so for your sake than his. “I hope you know that you can tell me anything. And I have no certain expectations you have to fulfill or so.”

You already know that he’s not asking sex for rent, if that’s what he’s wondering. But regarding his first statement… there are definitely things you don’t want to talk to him about.

“Yeah,” you answer regardless.

When the credits roll only a few minutes later, you know that you have two options. If you sleep in your own bed like you ideally want to, you risk there being an awkwardness tomorrow and that you definitely don’t want. Or you sleep in his bed with him like you have the last few days, and sure, it might be a little awkward, but he probably realizes you’re not up for cuddling, and it’ll be easier tomorrow.

“Oh. Finally,” Jeongguk exclaims when the ceiling light flickers on, signaling the return of the electricity. “I was starting to worry about all the food in the freezer.”

Subsequently, he leans over the coffee table, blowing out the small candles one after the other. It’s late anyway.

“So, uh…” he rises from the couch, “I’ll keep my door open, but I’m not offended if you choose to sleep in your bedroom.”

“Okay,” you nod at him, watching as he leaves to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

You stand up too, but no matter how much you want to crawl into bed next to him and have him hold you the entire night, you get ready for bed, and you lie down in your own room. You’re still wearing his hoodie because it smells like him, and it ironically brings you comfort. Still, you lie there in the dark, and you think about his face, and his eyes, and his body. His voice, even, and how he might actually be a good guy. Maybe even everything you want, even if it doesn't matter. And you curl up, a few tears running silently down your cheeks. Because Jeon Jeongguk is so very far out of your league, it’s not even funny.

After waking up, you trudge toward the kitchen, still feeling half asleep. After everything that happened yesterday, you still managed to sleep pretty well, most likely because you were exhausted and sleeping alone.

“Morning.”

You stop, hands mid eye-rub.

“I… thought you’d be at the station?” you say, redirecting your focus to taming your hair. Jeongguk is sitting at the kitchen table, donning a white t-shirt and black, what looks to be cotton, shorts.

“No, I’ll use today to go over some of the potential leads you helped find. Can do that from here.”

He takes a bite of a cupcake, and you catch his eyes linger a second on your body and how a small smile pulls on his lips before he looks into his phone in front of him. Glancing down, you realize that since you didn’t expect him to be home, you didn’t change out of his hoodie so what he saw waddle into the room was you, swallowed by his hoodie, sweater paws rubbing your eyes.

“It, uh, smells good,” you mumble quietly, realizing way too late that it’s not that great of a defense. “But I’ll wash it and you can have it back.”

It smells good because he smells good.

He waves his hand, still looking almost… fond. “It’s okay, keep it as long as you’d like. I have a ton of them.”

“Okay, uh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

At least the awkwardness was for another reason.

You decide to do a bit of laundry, although skipping the black hoodie and hiding it away under your duvet for a little while longer. Doing the laundry, vacuuming most of the house, and emptying the dishwasher takes you almost an hour, and then you find yourself outside Jeongguk’s office, knocking on the open door and peeking inside.

“Making any progress?”

He lifts his head from the laptop screen and swivels around in his chair to face you, a pen in his hand.

“No,” he sighs, “I’m looking into the girlfriend angle and so far, we’ve put detectives on a recent ex of Seunghwa’s and on two of Ryung’s flings, but it hasn’t resulted in anything. Regarding Hoseong… I’m not sure I ever actually heard him mention anyone by name, at least not any name that I can seem to match to anyone.”

“What about… I remember him talking about this Jimin?”

“Who’s that? I think we’ve covered most of his friends?”

You search your memory, but it’s hard to remember details. It’s been years since the conversations you try to recall, and as far as you remember, he only mentioned her in passing. “It was a woman, and I think they were more than friends. Or at least she wanted to be.”

“I didn’t even think of that; I only know male Jimins. Tell me more,” he urges, and you can tell he’s trying to recall if there was ever a mention of a Jimin.

“Well, I heard him complain about her a few times; said she was clingy and honestly a little obsessed with him. He made it sound like he didn’t care for her that much. In retrospect–besides being a very red flag–it sounds like something he could’ve said about me when I liked him.”

“Someone who maybe is mostly just a regular woman and would still maybe help them if they’re desperate enough to ask. Or him, at least.”

“Yeah.”

For a few hours, you and Jeongguk work together in his office, and you nearly forget about yesterday’s mishap, trying to find more info on this ‘Jimin.’ Until you find yourself nearly chest to chest with him after turning around too quickly and not expecting him so close. Instead of meeting your eyes sweetly and slowly lowering his head to kiss you like he probably would’ve even yesterday, he smiles and… backs up a few steps.

“Hey, should we take a break? Have a late lunch?” Jeongguk stretches his arms out in front of him.

You continue noting down some last names from your phone onto a paper, using the chair Jeongguk wheeled into his office specifically for you as a table while sitting on the floor. “Uh, you go ahead. I had a late breakfast.”

He stands up. “Oh. I didn’t notice.”

“Mhm, you were already in here.”

“I can wait then, and we can eat together.”

“It’s alright; go ahead.”

He mumbles something you don’t quite catch, but he does leave you to your notes and disappears from the office.

For the rest of the day, it’s just as if you’ve taken two or even three steps back. You don’t… touch a lot, and you definitely don’t kiss. A part of you misses it, but another part is relieved that he’s giving you space. He’s still very, very sweet, of course. You didn’t expect anything else.

Like when you open a cupboard, gaze set on a specific mug of his you’ve taken a liking to thanks to the very big ear that prevents the hot tea from burning your hand even through the ceramic. Compared to your male roommate, you’re lacking a little more in the vertical department and for some reason, whoever emptied the dishwasher placed the mug on the top shelf.

You look at it for three seconds, debating on whether you should grab a kitchen chair and climb or simply admit defeat and choose the next best mug. You’re about to go for the latter option when your hero swoops in, wordlessly and casually picking it down for you, a mug of his own raised to his mouth.

“Thank you,” you take the offering from his hand, a smile growing on your lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Or how he’ll still open whatever door you run into for you, to the point that it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to open the automatic doors and hold them open with his hands when he takes you grocery shopping.

And sometimes, you do touch. Whenever he’s quick enough to exit the driver’s seat and open the passenger door for you, he holds his hand out for you, and when you take it, he helps you out as if you can’t step out of the car on your own.

When you watch a movie, you don’t sit glued to each other, but he’s not scared to gently pull your feet–which you’ve complained all day of being tired–onto his lap to briefly massage them for you. He smiles at you, all crinkle-cornered sparkly-eyed and dimpled. On two short occasions, he holds your hand carefully, something you don’t object to because it feels nice, it really does.

But despite all these things, you still sleep in your bedroom. You don’t lock the door, but you do sleep alone.

Three days after the incident during the power outage, you’ve worked a long day in Jeongguk’s office. Alone, because he had to leave for the station at nine a.m.. You’ve had a lot of time to think, not only today but ever since what happened–and before that honestly–and it’s become very clear that you need to make a decision. Maybe you should simply gather your courage, give it a shot, and tell him how you feel about him, no matter what happens after?

Despite feeling somewhat determined and having some kind of honestly not very thought out plan, you’re anxious, wandering around the house as you wait for him to return.

An hour before he comes home, you find yourself in front of the washing machine, throwing the black hoodie into it finally. With the machine on, you head into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of wine. It helps a little, and the remaining nerves that still reside in your chest, you decide to just try to ignore.

The sound of his bike is what notifies you of his return, and you leave the kitchen to meet him in the garage, watching as he swings his leg over the bike and takes the black helmet off, holding it under his arm.

“Hey,” he greets when he sees you waiting, a genuine smile on his face. “How was your day?”

“Uh… good. Narrowed down the Jimins a bit, I think.”

“That’s great,” he grins, his elatedness infecting you too, causing you to smile a little hesitantly despite the nerves devouring you. “Have you eaten yet? I know it’s kinda late but if not; I could cook something?”

He puts the helmet on one of the shelves that line one of the walls, and then he comes to stand before you.

You keep your eyes on the jacket with the police emblem on it before you peer up at him. A little hesitantly, you reach for the zipper of his jacket, fiddling a little with it.

“I, uh… actually have something else I want to do. Something I’d like to try… If you’re up for it…”

Tentatively, you reach your hand out, fingers pulling down the zipper of his jacket. He watches you curiously, doing nothing to stop you.

“What is it? That you want to do?” he asks, his warm voice definitely sounding curious but not overly so.

You swallow, deciding to just go for it and slowly placing your arms around his neck, “Well… Do you have any… handcuffs?”

He tilts his head, holding your waist while looking at you, searching. “For me? I do, but we don’t have to do anything; you know that, right?”

“Yeah, but if I really want to? Or maybe you…” you realize that he might just not want to. Like, at all. Oh, how embarrassing.

Seemingly noticing the way you take a step back, lowering your arms from around his neck, he stops you, his hands keeping them there.

“No, no. I’m always willing to let you do whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t mind.”

His encouragement has a more genuine smile pulling on your mouth.

“Meet me in your bedroom then?” you ask, “And bring the cuffs.”

Not waiting for a confirmation, you drop your hands from his neck, and you turn around to head inside the house. Your heart is pounding, going absolutely haywire while you wait for him on the edge of his bed. Maybe you should’ve worn something else? Something other than just a pair of mom jeans and a blue sweater, but it’s too late now, you guess.

He shows up only a minute later, eyes curiously observing the heavy chair you’ve moved from the corner and into the middle of his room. The first thing he does is unbutton the dark blue shirt of his uniform, sliding it down his arms and throwing it onto the bed. You look at his chest and his arms and his stomach, and you see how he notices. This… humble confidence looks so good on him, and it’s so insanely different from how he acted during the mission. You’ve never seen anyone so attractive.

The next thing he does is approach you where you’re sitting, offering you his hand all while smiling sweetly… but still a little cheekily.

Placing your hand in his, you’re pulled up to your feet, basically chest to chest with him. There’s heat in his gaze, but it’s not scalding; it’s just warm.

You give in.

“Kiss me?”

He searches your eyes for hidden answers, but you really do want him to kiss you, and so he does. He places one hand on your lower back, moving your body with him as he steps back and sits down on the chair. Ending up sitting across one of his thighs, you open your eyes when he pulls away just enough to speak.

“I don’t mind you doing… whatever you want to do, if that’s just sitting on my lap or… exploring me. I’m all for it. Do what you want to do. But,” he says, emphasis on that last word. “Only do what you actually want to.”

You nod, and he reaches down to pull something out of his pocket. The handcuffs. You take them from him, pocketing the small key.

“By the way, how did you get out of the cuffs at the house?” you ask, weighing the metal in your hand.

“I went and got another key before. So I threw you one key and kept the other.”

You feel your forehead crease as you think about what that means. You were only able to relax when you thought he couldn’t hurt you, but he… could? At any point, he could’ve simply unlocked the cuffs himself?

“I didn’t keep a key because I had ulterior motives or anything. I was just worried you might hurt yourself or pass out for real, like, stop breathing and everything, so I needed a way to get to you if that were to happen.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” you admit quietly. It’s true; the fact that you had multiple pairs of handcuffs with you to the house, and they all use the same universal key entirely slipped your mind. “But of course. How stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t stupid. You were under a lot of stress, and I used that to my advantage, hoping you wouldn’t think about it.”

Standing up, you round the chair to kneel behind it. Without having to be asked, Jeongguk puts his hands back and waits for you to cuff them together.

“So I’m tightening these extra hard and making sure I have all keys,” you joke, still fastening them tight enough for him not to be able to slip them off.

“If that’s what you need to feel comfortable. But I hope you know that I’ll always listen to you.”

You nod, maybe more so to yourself when you stand in front of him again. He looks up at you where he sits, shirtless and looking gorgeous and absolutely mouthwatering.

You bite your lip briefly. “Can I… kiss you?”

“Whatever you want,” he grins, a smile that widens when you sit down on one of his thighs again.

“Okay. Close your eyes?”

Without a word, he obeys your request, and you feel yourself get almost hypnotized, looking at him. You’ve truly never seen anyone so stunning, even to the point that you could sit and gaze at him for hours. The best of mankind but still very much a man. You remember how you used to hate him, thinking God wasted this incredible beauty on someone so ugly, but although you’re not entirely sure how you feel about him, you know you don’t hate him.

Carefully, you trace your fingers along his sharp jaw, and despite his eyelashes fluttering, he doesn’t open his eyes. Unable to help yourself and because you truly don’t think he minds, you allow your gaze to drop. His neck is relatively thick, and the veins are only slightly visible compared to when he’s physically active. Your eyes then land on his collarbones. Then his wide, muscular shoulders and pecs. Then the scar, before traveling across his abs.

“You’re so pretty,” you state quietly, looking up at his face just in time to watch him smirk.

“Pretty is for girls; I’m a man.”

You can’t quite explain the emotional wave that hits you as you come to terms with what you have to do–the decision he’s made for you–but you know that you have to hide it, can’t make a sound of hurt in the silent room. Pressing your lips together, you look around the bedroom before you rise from his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks, still smiling and oblivious, his eyes closed.

Already at the window, you untie the white curtain’s tieback and hold it up. “What about this?”

He opens his eyes and looks at the white piece of fabric in your hand, but doesn’t appear too skeptical. “For what purpose?”

“Blindfold.”

Trying to keep a positive and somewhat fear free mindset, it still hurts when you see how he immediately connects the blindfold to how you shielded your chest from his eyes. There’s pain and there’s guilt swimming in his dark eyes.

“You can, but please don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

“Okay then.”

With his permission, you place the folded sash over his eyes and tie it in the back, careful not to trap any hairs. When you’re done, you take another second to look at him. There is something so irresistible about him, something that has your heart yearning and your body pulled in. He’s so warm, both body and presence. You bite your lip, using your hand to trace his cheek softly while thinking about how he’s so conflicting. What if you want to stay here forever? Curl up like this where he can’t touch you, and lean your head against his neck where he can’t see you?

Like the time when you kissed three days ago, you touch your thumb to his soft lips, and you let the smile and the mask you’ve been wearing fall. Quietly, you stand up, and you take a step back.

“I thought you were going to kiss me?” Jeongguk jokes lightly.

You don’t know what to say, stuck in your footing to the floor and how he can’t see you. It’s like a weight has dropped from your shoulders, but your heart still feels heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

Not picking up the real meaning behind your words, Jeongguk tilts his head. “Okay. It’s alright. Why don’t you uncuff me and we can maybe order dinner instead?”

“I’m leaving tonight.”

“Wait… what?” he straightens up, struggling to process your words, “Why?”

But you go silent again, unsure of exactly how you’ll ever be able to tell him everything. He calls your name, sounding stressed, and you hear how he tugs on the cuffs.

“You scare me.”

He stops, and you can tell by the way he seems to almost be holding his breath that it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I… I understand that you’ve been through a lot, but I’m never going to hurt you.”

You keep your eyes on him, feeling like he, himself most likely believes what he’s saying. But it’s not that easy.

“I know… that all in all, you’re a good man. You want to help me and others, and I know you said that not even when you thought I was the most selfish person in the world would you be able to hurt me physically. But you had no problem hurting me in other ways.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry for what I did. I’ve apologized for that, and I’ll keep doing it.”

“I don’t know how to read you,” you add, disregarding what he said because he has apologized, but not in the way that you needed. Not in a way that really matters to you. If this man hasn’t had you broken in a thousand pieces and still insisted on stepping on the remains.

So you keep going. “You look sweet–you’ve been sweet, but you look just like him. Hoseong was sweet too, until he wasn’t. And you… you have this desire to hurt, you want to inflict pain on those who wrong you or who you think have done you wrong. What happens if you think I’ve done something you don’t agree with?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions without talking to you, I’m not making the same mistake again–”

“What if I actually do something you don’t like?”

For a few seconds, he goes quiet. “I’m not going to hurt you ever again, I promise.”

You fiddle with your hands, glancing down at them. “Are you sure? It was so easy for you, using all my weaknesses against me and breaking me down without ever asking me for my side of the story. And it scares me how you, during the mission, showed just how easy it was for you to one moment act like you could stand me–looking just as sweet as you do now–then angrily tear me down the next.”

It hurts in your whole body but the worst pain originates from your chest. You feel small, insignificant, but also like you take up too much room.

“I know that you probably don’t want to hurt me physically, and that you’re a better man than most, and at first when we came back, it wasn’t too difficult to ignore what you…. think of me, but now…? I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and it just… everything is coming back. I’ve been trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t hurt me at all anymore and that maybe you even like me like I like you, but I know that you don’t. Which in turn makes it hard to know why you’re doing all of this. I think maybe you feel guilty or want to be nice? Give me a chance even though I’m not your… type. But I… I like you. I really, really like you.”

It’s easier to admit than you originally thought, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I want to look at you every second of the day and my hands absolutely yearn to touch you all over. But I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you to look at me. I don’t want to be perceived at all. I know that if I stay here and show myself to you, you will not like what you see. You will be disappointed.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, not straining against the cuffs anymore but taking on a calmer approach. “It’s not true. I really do like you, and I think you’re really pretty. Please, I apologized for the things I said, and I’ll do it again. I’m really sorry; I just said those things because I wanted to hurt you. “

“You did. You hurt me, and I’m hurt. You apologized for wanting to hurt me, but you’ve never impli–actually, It doesn’t matter. I know what I look like, it’s kinda hard to forget when you’re constantly reminded. You and your friends came for every single flaw of mine, Jeongguk. “

“I only continued because you never seemed fazed by it.”

“‘I never seemed–’”, you stop to chuckle in disbelief. Your eyes are tearing up as you recall the moments you’re about to remind him of.

“Are you saying that you never noticed that I stopped eating lunch at the cafeteria after what you did? Hoseong said that maybe someone would actually like me if I ‘ate less,’ and you laughed like it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. That was the day after you walked past me in the cafeteria, saying ‘leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you?’ Jihyo brought cookies for her birthday two weeks later, and you suggested–in front of everyone–that maybe I should do something else with my mouth besides eat. I criticized the fact that no male officer wanted to work on ‘low-rewarding’ cases like my trafficking case, and you… Do you remember what you said?”

Your eyes are already blurry with silent tears, and you feel the humiliation drown you. There’s no way to go, nowhere to hide. People like Jeongguk are watching, inspecting and observing every little part of you. Your bottom lip trembles.

Jeongguk is silent. If he could see, he’d be looking at your feet. You were right to blindfold him because you would’ve never been able to speak so earnestly had you not. Although you like him, and he’s been so kind and sweet to you, you’re back to feeling like nothing in his eyes.

“‘It’s not about the case; it’s about you. You couldn’t pay me to even look at you. In fact, I bet not even the traffickers would take you, otherwise we would’ve definitely traded you.’”

The pain radiates from your chest, leaving no cell of your body unaffected at the implications. You are so ugly and disgusting to him that if he had the chance, he would’ve sacrificed you to a fate no one should ever have to face.

He doesn’t give you a reaction now either; he just sits there with his head lowered. But this is your one chance to tell him how you really feel. You take a big, shaky breath.

“I was doing okay before all of this. Sure, I’ve always known that I have a lot of flaws, but I was doing okay. But you’ve said over and over again that I disgust you, my body makes you want to hurl, you wouldn’t fuck me if your life depended on it, etcetera. It takes its toll. Eating around men gives me anxiety, even if I try to hide it. I cover up my… shoulders as much as I can because I can hear you describe them as ‘manly,’ and how every man within earshot chuckles.

“I wear thick bras and tops, especially around you, because you made it a habit to comment on my breasts and how unfortunately shaped and sized they are. I remember how you asked me how on earth I ever expected Hoseong to like me when I had the ‘saggiest tits in the district.’ And I remember the field day you had when you found out they’re a bit uneven, finding a way to lower your rating of me from a 0.5 out of 10 to a 0.1. Then you asked the other men for their opinion and rating. Or how you’ve so kindly informed me that I didn’t have the tits for that pretty, blue dress and that it looked awful on me. Are you saying that you didn’t notice that whatever you’ve commented on, I’ve never worn again? Not even anything similar?

“I don’t wear tighter pants without a longer shirt to cover my ‘misshapen,’ ‘unfeminine’ hips and the ‘weird dips’ you’ve laughed at, and whenever work dress codes require me to, I’ve avoided you and other men the best I could.

“I wore a skirt to work once, and when I ran into you before changing into my uniform, you said that skirts are for pretty girls and that no one wanted to see my… cellulite. You took every chance to remind me that I have myself to blame for being undesirable, and that men weren’t the problem, I am, and ‘how wasn’t I ashamed for thinking someone like Hoseong could ever like me?’

"Believe me, I was ashamed. I am ashamed. Do you think I never considered just… drinking the poisoned coffee? Or just starting the car even though I knew the brakes wouldn’t work? If there was a way to get rid of one’s body, believe me, I would’ve. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know what he did to me at the time because how I looked never changed. But looking like you do, I get that you don’t understand how it is to walk around, filled with shame for existing in such an unfortunate body, but I can tell that you want to be better. Maybe you feel bad and want to give me a free trial of how it is to be with a Good Man. Or you want to do the ‘right thing’ so that your dad would be proud? I don’t know, but I can’t ignore the fact that I know how you really perceive me and how you are so far out of my league, it’s embarrassing to even stand here and say it.

"So while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me cause I’d be dead and gone without you, I can’t stay here. You want someone to hold hands with and to buy flowers for, but that’s not for people like me.”

Finally done, you wipe the tears that fall, and you shakily swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat.

“Take the blindfold off and uncuff me,” he begs, once again straining against the handcuffs. You know he isn’t getting out of them, and while he could stand up, the chair is too heavy for him to just pull along with him when he’s got the blindfold on and no sight. He knows, just as well as you, that there’s no use.

“No.”

“Then listen to me; none of that was true. You are so pretty, so breathtaking. I like you so much.”

“Forgive me for not believing you. If you really thought I was even remotely pretty, there have been countless opportunities for you to say so. Or even just a ‘hey, you know you’re not actually as revolting as I told you.’”

“I… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or have you doubt my intentions, but I’m telling you now that I’ve always thought you to be beautiful.”

You scoff sadly. “Yeah, now when the consequences of your actions have arrived,” you glance down at your feet, feeling so insignificant.

“Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already packed my stuff.”

“Where are you going? You can’t go home; it isn’t safe there.”

Truly, at this moment, your safety doesn’t seem like your top priority. “I’ll be careful.”

“Can’t you stay with someone, at least?” he bargains, “Jihyo or Sana?”

Another tear falls, and your voice goes quiet. “I want to go home.”

You really do. You haven't been home in months, and you feel like a child sleeping over at a friend's, missing your mom so much it hurts and just wishing she'd come and pick you up.

“I know, but you just gotta hold out a little bit longer. Call Jihyo, please. Do you want me to watch your house twenty-four seven, cause I will.”

You consider his words, and if there’s anything you don’t want, it’s to have him so close again. “Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah…”

With nothing really left to say, you pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the Uber app.

“I’ll uncuff you in a few minutes, I’m just ordering an Uber.”

Luckily, a car is only three minutes away, and so with quick fingers you confirm it. You packed your stuff three hours ago in case this would be the outcome, something you’re very grateful for now. Maybe, maybe, if he had said something, you would’ve kissed him and decided to stay, hoping that he was being honest. But you know that you might be a sweet girl to him, but you're not a pretty girl.

A minute passes, and you sigh sadly. “Okay, I’m gonna open the handcuffs, but I’m begging you, Jeongguk, stay there until I’m gone, okay? Don’t remove the blindfold, please?”

It’s his turn to seemingly consider what you’re saying. What you did, agreeing to call Jihyo, was for him and respecting his wishes. So he has to respect yours. He can’t rip off the blindfold the moment you twist the key in the cuffs and try to persuade you to stay, no matter if he wants to.

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You decide to trust him, and with the key belonging to the cuffs, you round the chair where he’s sitting. Kneeling like before, you manage to unlock one of the cuffs in two seconds, and the metal clinks as it falls off his wrist. Instead of freeing his other wrist as well, you grasp his free hand and put the key into his palm, closing his fist around it.

Though you shouldn’t have expected him to be entirely quiet and still, because while he doesn’t make any move to rise from the chair or remove the blindfold, he does swiftly grab your hand, holding it firmly. Despite being blindfolded, it definitely feels like he’s staring straight at you behind him.

“Don’t believe anything any of us said, please. You really are so gorgeous, and not only that but you’re incredibly smart and hard-working. You’re amazing, and I will regret what I did to you for the rest of my life.”

But you hurt so much on the inside that you don’t say anything to that, you just pull your hand out of his grasp.

author's note: so.... anyway, uh... like, comment, and subscribe <333

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lives-in-midgard · 6 months ago

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Finally, Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you hear a loud noise in the middle of the night, you think someone is breaking into your apartment, turns out it's just Bucky who is back from his mission.

Word Count: 820

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for helping me decide what to post, with voting on this poll. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with a superhero wasn’t always easy. Especially if you are a civilian and living a normal life. Well, actually it’s not that normal anymore since you started dating Bucky Barnes. Now you always have to worry when he is on a mission, but when he gets home, Bucky immediately drives to your apartment. Bucky loves you so much and so do you. You had been dating for a few months when you decided to move in together.

You love living with Bucky. From waking up cuddled up with him to going for a walk, cooking together and watching your favorite shows or movies together. Another thing you like to do is reading next to each other and then discuss what happened in the book.

You were currently cooking dinner, normally you would cook with Bucky, but this time you were cooking alone because Bucky was on a mission, which he had already been for three weeks. You weren’t sure where he was or when he would be back. You just knew that it was a dangerous mission and to protect you, Bucky didn’t want to tell you anything about it.

Before Bucky left, he promised you that he would come back home to you and you’re believing and hoping that it’s true and he will come back home soon.

You missed Bucky so much and felt so lonely without him. You started to miss him a lot and everything felt different when he wasn’t here. Especially coming home after work to an empty apartment and no one is waiting for you. Bucky also missed you so much and couldn’t wait to see again. He did his best on this mission, so that he could be home as quickly as possible.

It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t sleep again. You missed Bucky’s arms around you and how he always gave you a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight. After lying there for a while, you started to overthink and couldn’t get the idea out of your head that something might have happened to Bucky. You heard the wind outside and some strange noises. Suddenly you heard a loud bang, and someone mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You sat up in your bed and listened carefully. Suddenly you heard someone opening your apartment door.

Shit, someone broke into your apartment. You thought and reached for the gun, you put in the bedside table in case something happens. Bucky taught you how to use it, even though he hoped you would never need it. You stood up and took a deep breath. You had to be brave for Bucky.

You quietly opened the door to your bedroom a bit, held the gun in front of your body and then said loudly.

“Wherever you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” You opened the door more and took a step out of your bedroom. Suddenly the light went on and you saw Bucky standing a few steps away from you.

“Doll.” He said softly.

“Bucky you’re home.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you watched Bucky walking closer to you. He gave you a soft smile and said.

“Yeah, I’m finally back home with my girl.” He looked at the gun and then back at you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky said and then you realized that you still had the gun in your hands and got nervous.

“Let me take the gun, doll.” Bucky said and you nodded. Then he gently took the gun from your hand and put it in his back pocket. After that, Bucky opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, sweetheart.” You don’t know how long you stood there, hugging each other and telling the other one how much you love and missed each other. After a while you turned away and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and his metal hand on your back and pulled you into a passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s go cuddle.” Bucky said and you giggled, which made Bucky smile. He kissed your forehead and then you went to your bedroom. Bucky changed into different clothes and laid down next to you. Then you laid your head on his chest and Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

You laid there for a while when Bucky suddenly broke the silence.

“Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You looked up at him with a smile and Bucky gently rubbed your back.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Bucky and you then started talking about some places that you both have wanted to visit for a while and you can’t wait to see these beautiful places with Bucky. After a while, you nodded off in your boyfriend's loving embrace.

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sanzaibian · 8 months ago

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Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

#male transformation #male tf #jock tf #himbo tf #twink tf #racial tf #race change #latino tf #black tf #asian tf #straight to gay #gay to straight #inanimate tf #dumber tf #mental change #transformation #tf story #april fool's tf

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iimplicitt · 2 months ago

Text

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT.2 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part two of three, link to part one here

summary: lando and y/n relationship is on the rocks. y/n either makes the worst or best decision of her life. oscar is losing it and has a secret habit of street racing? (listen to empathy while he races).

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though.

word count: 4.9k

dedicated to: @theonottsbxtch

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You stood in the doorway of Lando’s bedroom in his flat in Monaco, sighing as he went through your phone. His eyes scrunched and a scowl on his lips as he held up the phone for you to see. “Who the hell is that?”

Narrowing your eyes to look, it was another comment some stranger left underneath one of your posts, calling you beautiful. The issue, to Lando at least, was that the stranger was a guy. “I don’t know.”

Lando scoffed and pulled your phone back towards him. “Yeah well, he’s also in your DM’s.”

You tried not to roll your eyes, knowing that would only annoy him further. He was weirdly obsessed with any male attention you received, not that you ever entertained it but he always made it seem like you were the one doing something. “And how many girls are in your comments and your DM’s? It’s not like I ever reply, unlike you.”

It wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise, even with Oscar and all the girls reaching out to him it never bothered you, you knew that’s simply how it was with fame. But the fact Lando would actually reply to them made you uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to care as he waved you off again. “I’m just engaging with my fans, what excuse do you have?”

You baulked at him. “I don’t talk to them.”

“I’m sure you just deleted the chats.” He practically threw your phone at you before turning around to go back to his game.

You wished you could say this was the first and last time you had this conversation with him, but it was beginning to feel like a weekly occurrence. You didn’t understand, he even had the audacity to flirt with girls in front of you but would say he was just being friendly. And who were you to question him, anyway?

You felt lost, lonely. Thrown into the world of dating a celebrity who gave no reassurance and it was like everyone you cared about suddenly wasn’t available to talk anymore. Either because of time zones, work, et cetera. And Oscar… you had always felt like he was someone to lean on without feeling like a burden but even now he felt like a stranger.

Events were beyond awkward, he’d mutter a hello before practically running away from you. Anytime you tried to talk to him, there was an excuse to leave. Your daily texts came to a halt besides a Happy Birthday message and a bouquet of flowers that Lando had thrown away before you even had a chance to hold them.

You’d still sometimes catch him staring at you though, and it kept a little flame of hope alive in your heart that he didn’t hate you. That your friendship maybe was salvageable, it just needed time.

At a club following a relatively successful qualifying for McLaren one night, you had just walked away from the bar with a new drink and weaved between the crowd of people. You weren’t sure where Lando was, and part of you said you probably didn’t want to know. Worrying about all the what if’s was going to kill you. Taking a sip of your drink, you decided you wanted a bit of fresh air and moved towards the large balcony the club had. It was still crowded, but not nearly as much and you found a seat at an empty table.

You mostly people-watched for a while, letting the alcohol create a comforting blanket over your nerves when someone sat down across from you.

Oscar was looking at you, eyes a bit bloodshot and his hair a mess as he held a glass of what might’ve been whiskey. Your shock made you sit there stupidly for a moment and stare at him. Surprised he made the first move to initiate some sort of interaction, anxious to talk to him, angry he had been avoiding you, and mad at yourself for not trying harder to fix things.

“Hi.” He said, his voice a bit rough around the edges.

Apparently words were lost on you as you continued to stare at him.

He sighed, his breath shaking as he messed with his glass tumbler. “Are you happy?”

Pursing your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from him to look at the city skyline. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re not answering.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Oscar.” Not when he was intoxicated, at least.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Please, I need to- are you happy?”

Dammit, your eyes began to water. Why was he always able to pull such reactions out of you so easily? “You don’t always have to try and save me, Oscar. I’m a grown woman.”

“The most remarkable people in the world still might want help sometimes.”

You looked away from him, biting at the inside of your cheek in a weak attempt to keep your breathing even and wiped a tear away. You missed him, you really did. And maybe this rift was your own doing. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself for Lando’s behaviour but sometimes it felt like everything would’ve been easier, better for Oscar, if you weren’t in the picture. If you had just stayed home and not agreed to come to that first race last season.

Standing up, you offered a tense smile. “I’ll see you at the race tomorrow.” And you walked away.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Oscar had never truly hated anyone before, but with each passing day he came dangerously close to yanking Lando by the collar of his shirt and punching him. The way his teammate so blatantly flirted with other girls while doing media events was beginning to lose its shock value on Oscar, but his anger just kept reaching a boiling point. Maybe he needed to be more level headed and mature about the whole situation, but knowing how much Lando was disrespecting you started to affect how Oscar raced. It wasn’t a hindrance by any means, but people were starting to notice how much more aggressive he was being on track.

A few days before a race weekend, teams were allowed to go out and walk the track to get a feel for it. Which was necessary on all accounts because the upcoming circuit had recently been resurfaced. Oscar had his hands in his pockets as he walked, paying close attention to the curves and the changes in elevation when a familiar waft of perfume caught his attention. It took him off guard, not expecting to find you out here but there you were, walking with Charles’ girlfriend Alex, who was taking their dog Leo for a stroll.

Your eyes immediately caught his, muttering something to Alex before heading in his direction.

He stood there like a deer caught in headlights as you approached, messing with your nails nervously the closer you got. Finally, stopping a few feet away you gave him a small smile. In an instant it was like all the ice that had built up over his heart the past few months began to melt.

“Walk with me?” You offered, extending an olive branch and he nodded, letting a small smile tug at his own lips as he began to walk again, you by his side.

It was quiet for a little while, the air a bit tense but nowhere near what it had been lately.

“I still don’t understand how you aren’t scared shitless when you get in those cars. The turns are so sharp and you come at them so quickly.” You muttered, gnawing at your lip and he couldn’t help but stare at the soft look of them before he forced himself to look away.

“Over time the fear goes away. There’s a thrill to it, I think. An adrenaline rush. Corners are the best part sometimes.” He offered, looking at you again only to find you already staring at him.

“Is that why you hold on to the door handle for dear life when I drive? For the thrill of it?” You joked and he found himself laughing, forgetting how easy it was.

“I think that’s my body going into fight or flight mode when you’re behind the wheel.”

You shoved him playfully, shaking your head with a grin on your face. The brief physical contact made his head spin and butterflies erupt in his stomach. He desperately wanted to touch you, hug you, something… he didn’t know. “I miss you. This.” The words were out before he could think more on it but he didn’t regret them either.

Coming to a stop in front of Oscar’s garage, you looked up at him and smiled softly. “Me too.”

Your eyes locked onto his, feeling like the world had stopped spinning and it was just the pair of you. Oscar didn’t have to think about anything else as you stood there in front of him. His best friend and the girl he knew had his heart. Slowly, he lifted his hand as your hair got tossed around by the breeze and he brushed it away from your eyes. Taking in the soft feel of your skin and an electric shock went from his fingertips and tore apart each of his nerves.

Pulling away, you turned to go meet your boyfriend and the world started to move again.

He flipped over in his hotel bed, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other found leverage on the mattress. Your soft and shaky breath sent shivers down his body, feeling your soft skin slide against his as he moved down the bed.

“Oscar,” you whimpered out, hands tugging at his hair as desperation began to control your movements. You were so beautiful, no matter where or how he saw you. But there was something akin to holiness as he looked at you spread out on his sheets beneath him. Naked and wanting. Wanting him.

“Relax for me, angel.” He pressed a kiss to your hip before moving down, licking a long stripe up your wet—

He shot up, sweat drenching his skin and a painful erection showing a tent in his sheets. Oscar groaned as reality caught up with him, pressing his palms into his eyes. “What is wrong with me?” He whispered to his empty hotel room, still wishing you could somehow be there next to him.

The sex dreams had always been a common occurrence the moment he realised he liked you. Years of built up sexual frustration and he always felt guilty about them afterward. You were his best friend yet every other night he fantasised about fucking you. The dreams never stopped, even when you were in a relationship. Even when he was in one.

His hands dropped as he stared out the window, depressed and frustrated. “I am awful,” he muttered. But Oscar knew he’d have one again. Part of him didn’t want them to stop, and he’d tell himself he could live with the guilt.

Later that day, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the constant pain of knowing you were with Lando, but when he caught his teammate slipping a girl his number he snapped.

Once they rounded a corner and no one was around, Oscar grabbed onto his shirt and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there with an arm against Lando’s chest. “You are such a joke.” He bit out.

Lando blinked at him in surprise before shaking away his shock, trying to shove Oscar off of him but the Aussie didn’t budge. “What is your problem, mate? Get the hell off me.”

“Does she know you’re out here messing around or do you like rubbing it in her face so blatantly?” Oscar was three seconds away from punching him before Lando shoved him more roughly, finally managing to break free from the wall.

He narrowed his eyes at Oscar before laughing, the sound of it dry and lacking all amusement. “Since when did you start giving a fuck about her again?”

Clenching just jaw, Oscar walked up to his teammate, his own eyes narrowed and his voice low. “Quit playing with her or I’ll run you off the damn track.” With that, he patted Lando’s shoulder once before walking away.

The Dutch Grand Prix was approaching and Oscar felt like he was losing it. You were everywhere. Plaguing his thoughts. In all his dreams. All he could think about. Him and Lando had hit a stand still in their working relationship and the friendship they had built came crumbling down when Oscar realised how much of an arse he truly was to you.

There was a small get together with a decent amount of the drivers and some friends at a townhouse Max had. The grill was now cool from the earlier barbecue and most of the crowd had moved inside as the night air grew chilled and rain was approaching.

Oscar felt suffocated inside the house, though. Everything was too bright and too close. You were everywhere yet nowhere at once and Lando was being a smug bastard, acting like a saint when he was really a devil in disguise. No matter how hard Oscar tried, he couldn’t stop looking at you. Wishing he was Lando and hating himself for it. Wishing he was the one who got to fall asleep next to you at night, knowing he could love you properly. Then Lando disappeared, and so did you and he felt his brain shatter into a million pieces. Knowing it wasn’t him made his chest physically hurt and he stumbled towards the back yard, not being able to breathe until the door was shut behind him and all the voices became muted.

He froze the moment he saw you laying in the grass, staring up at the moon.

“Hey,” you said, hearing his footsteps approach before he laid down next to you. The grass was damp from earlier rain but he didn’t care. You were there next to him, that’s all that mattered.

It was quiet for a while. The only noise was from the house and crickets, sometimes thunder from the distance. His mind was moving quickly, yet sluggishly, and still everything felt strangely clear all the sudden as he star gazed with you.

“Break up with him.”

You were silent, but he heard you take in a sharp breath before you whispered the next word. “What?”

“Break up with him.”

“Oscar—“

Turning to you and perching himself up by his elbow, he continued. “I know I waited too long. I know I didn’t communicate with you. I know I’m an arse for ignoring you. I’m sorry, I am, but— he is horrible to you. You’re not happy, I know you aren’t.”

You looked up at him, still laying down and the moonlight painted a heavenly sight before him as your brows furrowed. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“Why not? I know you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you—“

You finally sat up, eyes narrowed. “And what? You do? All this time you’ve apparently loved me but would tell me you weren’t interested and would go off dating other girls. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Oscar?”

He quickly stood up to follow you as you also got up and began to walk away from him.

“Why put yourself through hell for him?” He bit out.

“I have spent years putting myself through hell waiting for you! I can handle him.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him!”

You whipped around to yell something at him when the back door suddenly opened and Logan stepped out, eyeing the scene wearily. “Am I interrupting something?”

Before Oscar could say anything, you bit out a “Nope,” and stormed past the two drivers, disappearing into the house.

Logan quietly shut the door and raised a brow at Oscar. “Trouble in paradise?”

Oscar fell heavily onto a porch chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something like that.”

Looking at his friend for a moment, Logan sat down across from him. “You know,” he started, “I’ve known you two for a long time and you’ve always seemed to work something out.”

Sighing, Oscar leaned back in the chair and thought about the last few months. Thought about that fateful night a few years ago. Logan must’ve been thinking about it, too.

“I know how messy it was the first time and how much you beat yourself up over it, but it worked out didn't it?”

“Did it?” Oscar asked. “I feel like we just kept pushing off the inevitable and now it’s blown up in my face.”

“Look, I know it sucked but you did the right thing not getting into a relationship with her back then. That would’ve blown up in your face. But now, man, you have the world at your fingertips.” He paused for a moment and rubbed at his chin. “Why’d you invite her in the first place?”

Oscar frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You never invited her to your old races. You knew how busy you’d be once you started in Formula One, you wanted her here.”

He shrugged. “I mean yeah, but—“

“And now Lando is in the way?”

Oscar sighed, “yeah.”

The long time friends looked at each other, not sure whether or not to mention they both knew Lando was cheating on you. Logan caught him with some girl in a hotel bar, Carlos yelled at him a few weeks ago when he caught him with someone, and the list went on.

Oscar had a feeling you knew as well, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wouldn’t just leave the bastard.

As if reading his thoughts, Logan spoke again. “She might feel trapped, you know? Despite even the worst circumstances, it’s hard to leave relationships sometimes.”

“When did you get wise?”

Logan laughed and shook his head, standing up to pat his friend on the shoulder. “I always have been. Now, you have two options. One, run after her and try to fix this no matter what or else you’re going to go through the rest of your life wondering what if you had tried harder. Or two, you try to let go of it. Let go of her, and move on.”

Oscar licked at his dry lips and looked down at his hands, noticing the calluses he got from racing. “I can’t forget about her.”

“Then get off your ass and go after her.”

Logan didn’t have to tell him again. He patted the American on the back in thanks and took off into the house, only you were nowhere to be seen.

He caught sight of Charles and pulled him to the side. “Have you seen her?”

His friend looked at him knowingly, the Monegasque had a weird sixth sense on reading people and on more than one occasion he had offered Oscar some friendly advice on the matter of a broken heart. “She left, mate. Not with Lando though, if that helps.”

It did, and if Oscar wasn’t in such a rush he would’ve hugged the man.

He muttered a thanks before grabbing his keys and running out the door. He wasn’t sure where she was, but the first place he would assume is the hotel the McLaren team was staying at.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You shivered as you walked, your anger at everything beginning to fizzle away. Adrenaline had kept you warm for the most part as you got deeper into the city but now that it was fading you grew a bit nervous. A woman walking alone at night was never the safest or smartest decision.

But you had been so pissed off at Lando and angry that Oscar had been right. Right about everything. Lando was bad news but you were so desperate for attention you let a man start to slowly pick at you in ways he knew would make you crumble. He knew all your insecurities and would point them out to make a statement or if he got bored.

If you would’ve just been smart and waited a bit longer you could’ve been happy with Oscar. But… you had waited for years and you were tired. You knew it wasn’t your fault that he didn’t communicate how he had actually felt about you. That still didn’t solve any of the raging emotions going off inside you.

You heard a car approaching and kept your head down, hoping they would shoot past you. Much to your horror, the car with a strong sounding engine began to slow down. The deep rumble from it made your bones tremble, or maybe that was your fear.

Then a window rolled down and a familiar voice called out. “Get in the car.”

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were being irrational, surely. But you kept walking, “go away.”

The car halted to a stop, a door opening and slamming shut and not a moment later Oscar was standing in front of you. Angry. “Get in the fucking car.”

You blinked at him. You knew he swore during races but hardly ever at you. You were about to argue with him, being fueled by pure stubbornness at this point when there was a loud crack of lightning and it began to rain.

“Fine,” you bit out, getting into the expensive car and at that moment you didn’t care if your wet clothes ruined the leather. Oscar didn’t seem to care either as he slammed his door shut.

He started driving once you buckled and you wanted to roll your eyes. He was clearly pissed at you, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like you did anything to him. What made it clear he was mad was the increasing speed of the car. He was always careful, always put together. Besides when racing, you weren’t sure you had ever actually seen him speed before.

Although you trusted him with your life, your mouth felt dry as you went around a wide corner, your body being pushed to the side by the force of it. “Oscar—“

“What the hell is wrong with you? Walking out here alone at night in a country you’ve never been in?”

“We both know that’s not why you’re mad right now.”

Oscar laughed, the sound rough on your ears as he whipped around another turn, the tyres losing a bit of traction from the rain but he manoeuvred into a drift and easily corrected the car with a complicated turning of the wheel and doing lord knows what with the gear shift.

This was absolutely not the time to be thinking such things but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked breaking who knows how many traffic laws. Your thoughts only annoyed you though, not understanding why you had to like him. Not understanding why you let yourself get into the current position you were now in. Not understanding why you let Lando treat you like shit.

“So your driving isn’t any better off the track, either.” The cruel words slipped out on their own accord. You didn’t mean it. Maybe it was Lando rubbing off on you, maybe you were just making excuses.

Oscar didn’t say anything, his knuckles turned white on the steering and sped up, going well over the speed limit now and drifting, the back of the car swinging much too close to poles and buildings. It was reckless yet controlled all at once. Maybe this was his outlet. He wasn’t a big drinker, obviously didn’t dabble in drugs, he wasn’t violent, and a Formula One car was worth millions of dollars and too risky to take frustrations out on. Maybe he did this often, maybe that’s why he did it with expert precision as he raced through the streets of Zandvoort.

You didn’t know why, but when police sirens and flashing lights started to follow the car, you laughed. It was strangely liberating, watching Oscar let go of everything for once and for you to let go of fear.

Your eyes met his, red and blue lights gleaming off them and you two shared a smile before he raced off, evading law enforcement with a surprising ease and you wondered what other surprises Oscar still had in store for you after all these years.

He pulled into a dark alleyway between two buildings, quickly shutting the car off and turning out the lights. He lightly placed a hand on your back and pushed you down so you both weren’t in view from the back window. A few seconds later the police whipped by, neither of you moved till the sirens faded.

You were quiet for a minute, the only sound was your heavy breathing mixed with Oscar’s and you could just barely catch the gleam of his eyes in the dark as he looked at you. Sitting up, you messed with the hem of your shirt, a cold wave of reality hitting you. This felt like some sort of event horizon. Whatever happened in this car would determine if and how he’ll be in your life.

“Oscar,” you started quietly. He sat up as well, looking at you in the dark and hummed, patient. “Please tell me this all isn’t because I’m now something you feel like you can’t have.” The words were out, one of your biggest fears. Insecurities. Terrified he was only interested because suddenly you weren’t an option anymore. An option he’d always had.

“Angel, there was never anyone else.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him, or maybe your heart was beating too loudly over his words. “I’m done for.”

You sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe as you looked at him. Your best friend. The man you’ve been in love with for years. The way he was looking at you, it wasn’t any different than how he usually did. You had just apparently been naïve to the sheer desperation in it.

“Oscar—“

His lips crashed against yours, your back hitting the door and his hands cupped your face, holding him to you.

You froze, only for a moment as your stomach dropped from the surprise. Then it came rushing back up to you and your fingers buried themselves in his hair, kissing him back with such ferocity you weren’t aware you were capable of.

One of his hands held the nape of your neck while his other hand quickly undid your seat belt, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He was so warm, soft yet rough at the same time and he tasted like heaven. As his tongue slid past your lips, dancing against yours you let out a moan that had him trembling against you.

Years. You had waited years to kiss him. You’ve dreamt about it. God, you even cried about it a couple of times. The pure longing you had been harbouring all this time had reached criticality and now you were just about to explode. His hands were all over you, exploring every inch as if he was a crazed man who found the holy grail and couldn’t quite believe it.

His tongue explored the inside of your mouth, hot and wet and he was practically breathing you in. Your nails raked through his hair, wanting so much more it felt maddening.

His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he pulled away, his eyes heavy lidded and before you could utter a complaint his mouth latched onto your neck, just below your jaw. The sound that left your mouth was embarrassing but he seemed to love it, a moan leaving his mouth and vibrating through you as he left a wet trail of open mouth kisses down your throat, sucking and biting as he went.

You tugged on his hair, a whimper leaving his mouth but it was swallowed up by your mouth as you kissed him again. With one hand snaking up underneath your shirt, his other hand grabbed your wrist and placed it on—

Your brain short circuited by how hard his cock was. Not only that, but you were touching him. There. You could faint.

“Angel, please.” It was practically a whine as he kept kissing you, his hips pushing up into your hand. As if the sounds leaving his mouth commanded you, you squeezed his erection through his pants.

Oscar shuddered violently, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “Fuck.”

“Oscar.” You sounded needy. You didn’t care. And for a whole list of fucked up reasons, you didn’t care that you had a boyfriend.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, f1, maxverstappen1 and 1,926,378 others

landonorris yup 🏆 more like it

*tap to load more comments*

userone: LESGOOOOO

usertwo: twowinssss

userthree: anyone notice how tense lando & oscar were?

| userfour: yea… and landos gf. super weird

| userfive: neither of them liked this either

usersix: y’all see those dm’s some girl leaked???

| userseven: YEAAA lando has been lurkinggg

| usereight: embarrassing honestly

usernine: y’all see that video of oscar drifting through the city? wild

| userten: I KNOWWW it was sick. didn’t know he was like that

| usereleven: who do you think the girl was in the passenger seat?

usertweleve: MORE DM’S GOT LEAKED

userthirteen: lando is quite literally for the streets

userfourteen: is this why oscar has been racing dirtier? his teammate fucks over his best friend? yikes

comments have been disabled

part three found here

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lisenberry · 3 months ago

Text

The mountain is you

Ch. 2 - I don't know what it is that I'm climbing to

~2.4k

E/MDNI/18+

CW: BDSM negotiations, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, pain play

(Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4)

It’d been a while since John had spoken to his former lieutenant, and even longer since he’d seen him. The last few years had passed in a fog, so it was a shock when he saw the familiar number come across his phone. He only briefly hesitated before answering.

Soap and Gaz texted him all the time. Links of foolish videos on the clock app, and pictures of mysterious rashes on their body parts that they needed help identifying.

But Ghost wasn’t one to waste anyone’s time. Whatever it was, it was important. And as it turned out, he had a proposition for him.

“You need a project, Cap. Something to keep you sharp.”

“Are you worried about me, Simon?”

“We all are.”

John had been the one to start Life Connect 141. An opportunity that gave the lads a place to channel their post-combat restless energy in a way that wouldn’t get them a murder conviction or a stint in a maximum-security psych ward. It kept them together as a team and gave them a purpose. And the opportunity to launder some of the not-quite-above-board money they’d liberated over the course of their travels.

Some veterans of special ops worked with rescued pit bulls. Others started fitness programs, backpacking guide schools, and preparedness training facilities.

His boys filled their own rewarding niche. Even after John’s departure, the company had flourished and from what he could tell, they were all staying out of trouble.

Judging by Ghost’s concern, he was the one who was floundering. A marriage to the wrong woman, and the subsequent messy divorce, had left him dangerously adrift. He’d thought about returning to the work, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

“Just meet her. Trust me. You can decide then if you’re doing me a favor, or the other way around.”

And he did trust Ghost. With his life. And if anyone had been keeping track, he imagined the scales were just about even between who owed whom more.

In the end, he agreed to the meeting. For no other reason than to see for himself what had one of the toughest, most resourceful bastards he’d ever known seeking his expertise.

They’d been at the table for a half hour, going over your file and discussing the particulars when John glanced up to catch his first impression of you. A breezy blouse and a long, colorful skirt. You looked around the outside seating area but didn’t see them.

Or more likely, you didn’t recognize Ghost without his mask on, judging by the surprised laughter that met his ears a few seconds later.

“Ah, dove. There you are.” Simon grinned as he stood, pulling you into a friendly hug.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never seen you without the mask before. I’m trying to reconcile the picture in my head. I’ll try not to stare.” An endearingly warm smile lit up your face.

You weren’t at all what John had pictured, either. He’d clearly have to adjust the conclusions he’d reached based on your file. He’d read about your stressful, demanding job, your high intelligence and predilection for punishment, and he’d imagined someone harder. Colder.

There was a notation in the margin on one of the pages that had stood out as well.

Daddy issues??? Undisclosed but probable.

He made his own note to inquire further, suddenly anxious to know everything there was to know about you.

“The mask is an improvement, don’t you think?” Ghost shrugged. Was he actually blushing?

Surely it was just the heat of the sun or a trick of the light.

“It has its charms, but you have a very honest face.” The way you laid your hand reassuringly on his lieutenant’s arm made John clear his throat and offer his own hand in greeting.

As cute as your connection was, you were there for him, and he noticed the way you’d nervously avoided meeting his gaze. The way you’d chosen to cling instead to Simon, the devil you knew.

He had no desire to forcibly extricate you from your bond with your previous Dom. That wasn’t how it worked. At best, John could match it. Slowly. If he did his job right, in time, you’d come to look at him with a similar trust.

“Nice to meet you,” your eyes finally flitted to his as he took your cool, smooth palm into his own.

It was then that he felt it. The twitchy, fevered thrill of a worthy mission.

“So, what does that file say about me?” You sipped your pint, finding your throat suddenly dry and your forehead warm, and in need of something to do with your hands.

Ghost had excused himself a short while before, after making the introductions and sharing a few stories of his and John’s time working together.

You’d found being alone with him to be...intense. He seemed impenetrable.

He didn’t look down at the folder, and kept it closed on the table. His pen held between his two hands, contemplative and resolute.

“That you’re a pain slut. With a high tolerance.” His voice didn’t rise above his gruff, conversational tone, and you didn’t bother to look around at your fellow patrons seated near you. With the din of the restaurant, they wouldn’t be able to hear. “Does that bother you?”

“No. It’s the truth.” You didn’t have anything to hide. Not from him at least. Not if this was going to work.

“What is it about pain that you seek out?” He crossed his arms over the table and leaned in closer. Biceps bunching under his t-shirt. Ghost had always worn a suit. John looked like he came from a construction site. Unshaven and slightly dangerous.

You didn't hate it.

“When it’s done right, there’s a moment right before it gets to be too much that my body starts to fight back. As if to say, ‘Go on, I dare you. Is that all you’ve got to give?’ And just then, right before I give in and quit, it’s the most powerful I’ve ever been. The most alive.”

“It’s the rush then, is it?” He studied you like a therapist. And you felt like a patient. Only this therapist’s job was to tie you up and make you cry. And come. And cry again. The thought made you shudder inwardly with anticipation.

“It doesn’t work for all pain. It’s not the blood or the risk of injury. I don’t get off at the thought of the dentist...” you trailed off with a light laugh, finding it easier to talk to him about this than you'd thought. “But sometimes, the more helpless I am, the stronger it feels. There aren’t too many things you can do without thinking about it. Against your will. Beating, breathing, feeling. There’s a freedom in it. Again, if it’s done right.”

“You don’t like to think, then. You’d rather be surprised?”

“I don’t mind surprises. I like them, actually. We don’t have to negotiate everything ahead of time, so long as it feels right in the scene.”

You finished off the last of your pint and smoothed the napkin that had caught to the condensation on the bottom. A first date, a therapy session, and an interview all in one. And yet it didn’t fill you with the same anxiety as it should. It could’ve gone wrong in a hundred different ways, and yet the more you confided, the more you relaxed.

“Talk to me about these hard lines.” He opened your file, skimmed it, and moved his pen back and forth as if he was underlining something boldly.

“Always be honest with me about what you’re going to do. Don’t play games or make me have to choose something in order to please you. Keep me engaged, but if I have to make a decision it will take me out of it.”

“That’s important to know, thank you.” He made another note on the page. “It also says no choking, but with an asterisk next to it. Care you elaborate?”

“When I was little, I had terrible asthma. Life threatening at times. It’s under control now, but not being able to breathe, or even the threat of it, doesn’t...” you paused, searching for the right word to convey your biggest fear, “arouse me. Let’s just say.”

“I understand why it wouldn’t.” No sympathetic indulgence, thankfully, just a solid nod of support.

Could he relate? You wondered what hard lines he had. You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him. Ghost had reacted the same when you’d had this discussion. No questions, no bargaining. Just respect for your vulnerability. Surprising, from two men who seemingly had none themselves.

It prompted you to delve in further, and leave no room for misunderstanding, just in case.

“No collars, no ribbons, bows, belts, neckties, your hands, anything please.”

“Neck is off limits. Noted.”

“You can still kiss me there, if that’s something you like. Or you can slap me, to get my attention. And if you need to move me around or hold me down, you can grab my hair.”

You punctuated the last with a helpful smile and a shrug of your shoulders. His gaze seemed to find your neck then, perhaps contemplating what it’d be like to kiss it. Did the thought bring him as much excitement as it did you?

“Fair enough.” A contented grunt was all you received in response.

“You said that this would be a reciprocating agreement. What do you want from me?” The question that had been on your mind since Ghost had called you.

With him, you just paid him money. That was your end of the deal. Without payment, that left too much to your imagination and you’d let it run a bit wild.

“I’ll tell you what I want, and when I want it. Is that clear? I won’t ask for your permission, and you’ll never have to wonder what I’m thinking. I don’t hear yes and no, or green and yellow. Red means take a break and try something else, and the safe word is a hard stop to call it a day.”

“Understood. Thank you.” It was a plan you could definitely work with. “But what about you? What do you hope to get out of this?”

“I like to be in charge. Take care of things. And do the hard things that need to be done.”

“And who takes care of you?” A simple question, but he seemed to bristle at it. Perhaps you’d pushed him too far, too soon.

“Good little girls who listen and behave.” He adjusted himself in his seat, straightening as if to get back some control. “Let’s talk punishments. No spanking, obviously. You’ll enjoy it too much.” His eyes seemed to darken in both amusement and desire.

No doubt proud of himself for changing the subject and redirecting the friendly interrogation.

“Hopefully I won’t displease you, but you could ignore me. That will make me rethink my attitude real quick,” you replied, with an answering grin.

“Ignore you? I think that would hurt me more than you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You liked that. Probably said as much with the flood of heat to your cheeks and the breathless giggle that sounded so foreign to your ears.

“I think we’ll get along just fine...John?” You questioned what name he wanted to be called.

“Sir. Just sir.”

On the day of your appointment, he texted you the location and the key code for the door lock. You found the building easily, and stepped into the elevator, double checking the apartment number to be sure you were in the right place.

When the code worked on the door to the fifth floor, you entered to find that it was someone’s home.

The office of Life Connect 141 was in a nondescript office space on the outskirts of Canary Wharf, not far from your office. If anyone spotted you, you could use the excuse of taking a meeting or doing your due diligence on a property you were looking to liquidate.

This, on the other hand, was well off the beaten path. A restored factory building in a neighborhood you weren’t familiar with, but appeared to be up and coming judging by the activity along the street. You’d already noted a few restaurants to try on the short walk from the Tube station and filed them away to pick up something to eat on your way home.

A flat of this size and builder quality must have cost a premium, or else the owner bought in cheap before the neighborhood began to blossom. It was well-appointed and comfortable. Floor to ceiling windows that opened to look just above the shorter buildings next door. Privacy from looking directly at your neighbors, but still connected to the bustling down below.

Once inside, you followed his directions to the letter. You’d arrived early, dimmed the lights and set your bag on the hook by the door. Cell phone ringer turned off and your shoes in the basket in the hall.

"I’ll leave what I want you to wear on a chair, you’ll know which one. Wear nothing else. There will be a pillow on the floor, you’ll know which one. You’ll greet me on it."

As you moved in past the entryway, the remaining room was an open concept. A kitchen with an attached dining area, and a living space on the opposite side. Two plush sofas and an assortment of chairs and tables. You didn’t know what to expect. A pleasure room, maybe, or a dungeon of racks and toys.

It was just a living room.

Any nerves you’d been holding onto dissolved when you spotted the fabric draped across the lapis lazuli velvet wing-backed armchair. Was that going to be his seat? It was large enough to hold both of you comfortably...if you were on his lap. It was certainly a statement piece.

The outfit he’d chosen was a simple, pink silk backless slip dress. Not cheap satin, but the softest, sheerest gossamer. You shivered as you stripped from your street clothes and gently settled the confection over your skin. It barely covered your ass as you folded your things and hid them out of sight.

You briefly warred with whether to leave your hair up or down, deciding on the former, before you finally took a deep breath to center yourself. Whatever happened next was out of your control.

When your knees met with the pillow at the foot of The Chair, your mind emptied and you felt the tension that you’d been carrying for weeks start to fade.

Just in time to hear the click of the front door.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #cod smut #task force 141 #cod 141

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lucyandthepen · 10 months ago

Text

last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ��ɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off.

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately.

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.

“You love me, right?”

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.

“You know I love you, right?”

You smile slightly. “No but?”

“No but,” he agrees.

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.

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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 1 year ago

Text

How they react when you first join the Van Der Linde gang

How does the gang react when you first join them at Horseshoe Overlook (Fluff) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: None

AN: First time posting headcanons in a really long time, forgive me if I’m rusty ---> Requests open! Check out the guidelines if you have any questions

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Arthur Morgan:

Arthur is really wary of you at first, but honestly was probably the one that found you and brought you to the gang

He trusted you just enough to show you to their hideout, but not enough to take his eyes off you for more than about two seconds while you were there

Kind of like what happened with Kieran, once you do something to save his hide he trusts you much easier and can settle down a little bit

He still finds himself constantly watching you, maybe for a different reason this time though

He is a little standoffish with you for a while as you get settled - he’s so busy running errands for everyone else that he doesn’t have much time to sit down and really get to know you

There is one night, though, when he’s actually back at camp and sitting around the campfire with the group and you

He sees you joking around with Lenny and singing with Karen and he gets a warm fluttery feeling in his chest. He’s suddenly really happy that you joined them and even happier that you seem to belong

After that night, he finds every opportunity he can to involve you in his own little tasks for the camp. He’ll take you on his fishing trips, little bounty hunts, and whenever he’s going to another town on “business”

He likes it when you’re around and starts doing more chores close to camp so he can see you more often

John Marston:

John did not care at all when you joined

Like, didn’t even notice you until almost a week later

He sits down next to you at the table one morning, you let out a quiet ‘mornin’ and he grunts in response. It took him a moment but he did a double take and realized you were not an original member of the group

He sputters and coughs, panicking as he looks around to see if anyone else is reacting to your being there

Miss Grimshaw walks by and smiles at you, “Good Morning!” And suddenly he feels like the biggest idiot in the world

You’d think that as an outlaw he would be way more observant of the people he surrounds himself with, but half the time that man is just drifting through the days

He runs away from you after that, and avoids you for a few more days. He’s more embarrassed than anything - he tries to ask Arthur about you, but Arthur starts teasing him for not noticing sooner

He starts keeping tabs on you from a distance. Not in a creepy way, but he’s trying to figure out when the best time to reintroduce himself is. First impressions and all that

After a few more days of sulking, he’ll come over and hold out his hand: “John Marston, nice to meet you.”

You laugh, it makes him blush a little since he feels foolish still, but you take his hand and shake it. A spark shoots up his arm at the contact which makes him blush harder

He warms up to you eventually and a crush blossoms as he does

Dutch Van Der Linde:

When he first meets you, all he sees is potential. Whether you’re charismatic, sneaky, or strong he has a use for you and that’s all he cares about

He immediately sends you off on some little mission with one of his men to see how it goes. He basically throws you to the wolves and if you have any questions or concerns he’ll convince you that it’s just that he trusts you so much he knows you can do it without someone holding your hand

You eat it up

He praises you every time he sees you walking by in camp, but his compliments don’t really hold any weight at first. He doesn’t know you well enough to pull on the heart strings that matter, he’s just charismatic

One day he notices you hanging around his tent more often than usual, pacing around and glancing over at him every now and then. He eventually calls you over to ask what’s on your mind

You tell him you got wind of a man coming through town who’s known for scamming. You tell him you had a plan to scam him back and get whatever money he had been gathering from weeks on the road

It’s like he sees you in a new light. He declares that you’re his new favorite gang member and offers to move your cot into his tent with him - just to keep your clever mind safe with all those plans and all

Whether you take him up on it or not is up to you, but after that day he is constantly chatting you up every chance he gets

The man is easily wooed by a get rich quick scheme

Javier Escuella:

Javier was probably the first one to introduce himself when you were brought to camp. I feel like he is definitely the one who gets along with new people the fastest in the group

He offers to help you unpack your things (if you brought any, if not you just kind of look around like “what things, sir?”) and set up your own little space to sleep. You have the option of bunking with someone else in the group - like him, for example - or making your own space

Your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard in the entire world, and suddenly his knees are jelly and his stomach feels hot. Javier is as charismatic as Dutch for sure, but cares about the people around him way more which makes him act a little nervous sometimes

You make him nervous

But in that good I’ve-got-a-crush kind of way that’s really a nice comforting anxiety

He is at your beck and call at any given moment. 3am and you heard a coyote and got nervous? He is checking the perimeter to make sure those nasty beasts don’t get anywhere near you, even if he isn’t the one on watch

If you have sub par survival skills because you haven’t lived off the land like he and the gang have, he is there to teach you. Or really do everything for you so you don’t have to lift a pretty little finger

Dutch had to have a talk with him about spoiling you after a week or two living with the group. He simply told Dutch he was making sure you felt welcome and safe with them

Charles Smith:

Charles is kind of assigned to keeping an eye on you by Dutch. He is a little reluctant, he’s used to being able to go where he wants when he wants without having a shadow comping around after him. He gets used to you after a while, but when you get a little too noisy when he’s hunting or trying to sneak around he gets a little frustrated

He feels like he’s babysitting at first

You’re just so new and don’t understand everything immediately. He’s a great teacher, don’t get me wrong, but he isn’t always in the mood to tutor someone in every little thing he does. Sometimes he just wants to do what he does best without explaining every step along the way

One day he begs Miss Grimshaw to tell you that she needs your help doing chores around camp just so he can have a moment without you asking a million questions over his shoulder

The first hour is nice, serene even, but then it gets lonely. It’s too quiet without you. Charles got used to you being behind him and he even finds himself missing your chattering

At one point he sees these two birds fighting over a herring on the shore of the river and while they’re distracted a little rat comes by, scoops it up, and scurries away before the birds notice. His first instinct is to turn and ask you if you saw that and laugh about it, but you aren’t there

He’s so lonely without you that he cuts his solitude trip short and comes back to camp with two rabbits and a fish as spoils. It’s so unlike him that Pearson asks what’s up with the light load, but Charles ignores him and goes searching for you - he has so much more he needs to teach you if you’re going to stay with them at the camp

Sean MacGuire:

Depending when you come around, you’re either there right before he gets back to the group or right after being held in Blackwater

Either way doesn’t really matter, he has a quick reunion with this friends from before and when he gets to you he has a whole “hold up” moment. A new attractive face in the group is very interesting news to him

He is all over you at first asking a thousand questions a minute. Are you an outlaw? Are you running away from something or someone? Who’s your dad, does he want a son-in-law? All sorts of questions out of this guy’s mouth

Arthur practically drags him away by the collar of his shirt and warns him to behave

He approaches you while you’re sitting around the fire later that night and offers you some whiskey. If you take it, he’ll teach you some drinking game he is making up on the spot just to impress you and get you to loosen up a bit

After a few days, he notices you starting to sulk a little when it gets later in the day. During the times you aren’t actively doing a task, there’s a bit of a frown etched onto the side of your face and he asks you if you’re doing okay

You tell him you’re homesick and he’s able to relate to you immediately - even though he ran away from home there are times when it’s all he can think about and how things might be different if he had stayed. Ultimately, though, all you can do is remember the past and focus on the present

He tells you as much, and lets you go on and on about your home while occasionally interjecting a joke here and there to get you to smile again

He successfully lifts your mood and it becomes routine to sit by the fire and swap stories back and forth into late night as you get to know each other

Sadie Adler:

Sadie is the newest member of the group before you, so she knows exactly what you’re feeling. Does she do anything about it at first? Nah

She relates, but feels like the best thing for her to do is let you work through your issues on your own. She did. I mean sure she had Abigail to lean on for a little bit and Arthur was really patient with her, but you would be fine

Thinking about it, maybe it would be better if she talked to you about what you were feeling and all that sort of stuff

Sadie is weird with emotions, especially after what happened with her husband. She just kind of feels like they can get too intense and tries to stay out of other people’s business if she can

She does take some pity on you though as you struggle to connect with some of the other members. They’ve known each other for years, how were you supposed to relate to them

She starts off having short quick conversations with you at first. Then slowly she’ll start learning things about you and what your story is. She’s drawn to your personality (once she starts seeing it) because she loves how strong you are after everything you’ve gone through and she even finds herself laughing at your jokes every now and then

Eventually the two of you are like two peas in a pod - Thelma and Louise, Bonnie and Clyde. You are partners in crime

It gets to the point where Dutch will see one of you and ask “Where’s the other one?” Which, of course, the other one is never far behind. It’s endearing and also a little annoying for him. He’ll try to send you somewhere, tell you it’s a one man job, and still every time without fail you’ll find a reason to bring Sadie along with you

“I needed someone to watch my horse while I was working in town!”

Yea okay, he doesn’t even bother arguing anymore

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Thanks for reading! I’ll get better the more I write I promise

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eli0004 · 6 months ago

Note

Any Levi headcanons you’d like to share with the audience 🥹

Whew😮‍💨 Anon, as a dedicated Levi stan of multiple years, you know i do!

Pairing: Levi x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Random relationship hcs!!! Woohoo!

Warnings: Levi struggling with emotions, gossiping, mentions of substance use, very slight nsfw implication

Levi isn’t really someone who cares too much about what music he listens to. He’ll listen to whatever you put on, even if it’s like…loud angry metal, he’ll sit there like 😬 Yes this is great i love it and i’m absolutely not horribly overstimulated right now. He just likes to see you happy.

This man is made of 100% husband material. He thrives living the quiet married life, and feeling appreciated and loved for doing the simplest, most menial household chores.

For the most part, if you were to ask him if he wants children i think he would say no, but then he watches you interact with children and it patches up this broken place inside of him, and suddenly he’s dreaming of little feet pattering around the house.

If he accidentally hurts your feelings with some dumb joke he made, he will feel intensely guilty. It will eat him alive, he can’t believe himself. But he also has no idea how to say that, so he’ll just make you tea and torture himself over it.

Even if you’re years into your relationship with him and living together, he still gets butterflies when he sees you again after a long day. You’re his solitude, his safe place, his home isn’t a home without you there in it.

He likes to listen to you gossip with your friends. Every once in a while he’ll pipe in and share his thoughts on something, and you’re like…? Since when did you start paying attention to this?

He has a high tolerance for alcohol, but half an edible has him absolutely faded. It’s actually ridiculous. And high Levi is so soft and sleepy, and he seems so genuinely relaxed, it’s a blessing to be able to witness him in that state.

Levi is hardly interested in status symbols, and values practicality over luxury. In a modern AU he probably drives a slightly beat up older classic car, but has no idea it’s a classic, so when car people compliment it he’s like ??? Tf

He’s a slightly picky eater, but if you make dinner one night and it doesn’t look appetizing to him, he’ll gather every ounce of courage in his body to take a bite and try it for you, since you went out of your way to make him something.

He has a keen sense of smell, and he loves fresh, fragrant aromas. He definitely stops in the candle aisle in the grocery store to smell all of them, and then gives himself a massive headache.

When you get out of the shower and smell all nice and clean, that shit gets him so bricked up.

I mentioned this before in another post, but if you ask him to pick something up from the store and it’s on a shelf he can’t reach, he will literally leave that store and go to a different one. He’s not going to ask the 16 year old cashier girl to help him reach it, and he’s definitely not climbing the shelves like a mad man. You’ll just have to wait a while longer.

Literally blushes from ear to ear when you call him pretty, or cute. If he gets compliments on his physical appearance, it’s usually said that he’s “sexy” or “handsome” which are still great things to hear, but it’s about the loving adoration in your eyes and the gentleness with which you touch his face. The genuine honesty behind your compliments, and the way it feels like you see something in him that nobody else does.

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ryuichirou · 2 months ago

Note

how would the TWST boys react if they were chosen by the cat distribution system and a stray cat choose them to be its cat dad?

Today I decided that it’s time to write about something delightful lol I keep smiling every time I remember that we have this ask in our askbox… Thank you for waiting, Anon! I’m sorry it took this long.

Maaaybe I’ll write more hc posts next week… I try to write at least two per week, but there are so many good prompts that I should probably try to do more.

Anyways! Once again my bias is clear because I am a poor soul that loves cats but doesn’t own one, so spoiler alert: all the boys end up loving cats as well lol But I think it’s fair… How does one not like cats? Don’t ask Ciel.

Riddle – his first instinct is to refuse poor cat’s attempts to hang out because his mother never let him own a cat: they claw furniture, they bite, and Riddle has allergies! Or… he thought he did. He didn’t get any reaction from the cat, so maybe that was a lie?? Anyways, he would melt almost immediately because a fluffy creature wanting to be his friend is something that Riddle always wished for. He loves animals and taking care of them, so there is no way he is letting go of that cat! Of course he has to get used to it because a cat would never follow any rules, and sometimes it would get frustrating for Riddle, but… whenever a cat wants to play with him or cuddle with him, Riddle giggles like the happiest kid in the world. No one is allowed to pet his cat without his permission.

Ace – he will brag about it a lot. He’ll take the cat everywhere and always have it either on his lap or on his shoulders. He’ll always talk about just how much the cat purrs for him and him only, and how cool of a person he is because the cat clearly chose him specifically to be his owner. The cat really does like him a lot, but it doesn’t mean that Ace doesn’t get scratched or bitten all the time lol Also, at some point it will become the freshmen’s cat that everyone takes care of a little, and Ace would start to constantly remind everyone that this is in fact HIS cat!

Deuce – aw, he would probably be a little awkward at first. He strikes me as someone who is more of a dog person and doesn’t have much experience with cats… He would be very careful around it, as if he isn’t just afraid to hurt the cat, he doesn’t even want to offend it somehow. Of course he would swear that he’ll take care of the cat and be very responsible about it! But it will take a while for him to take it inside the dorm; he’ll just feed it and hang out with it outside at first… until the weather gets too cold.

Trey – he would have this “why me though?” vibe to his reaction, but he would still be kind of happy. Maybe he shouldn’t have fed it, now it follows him around everywhere… Trey says that this isn’t really his cat, but keeps taking care of it anyway. He never expected to be this delighted to have a cat. He would get much more into it than he expected, to be honest. He’ll probably feed it with home-made treats and give it toys that he made himself…

Cater – OF COURSE he’ll start taking selfies with this cat. OF COURSE. After some time he might even make a separate account for the cat, to see if it would surpass his follower count. Other than that, he would cuddle the cat a lot, talk to it, play with it, dress it up all cutely and meme-y. I think it would be very good for Cater to own a cat… He needs to learn how to take care of it properly though, so some assistance might be necessary lol

Leona – would he even care? Maybe a little bit, but he would act like he doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t even know who the fuck this cat is, it just appeared suddenly and now lives in his room. It can stay or leave, doesn’t make any difference to Leona. In actuality though, on some level he does appreciate the companionship of another cat sleeping next to him or on top of him and grooming his ears. But only when no one sees it or comments on it. He could chat with the cat btw, but he just doesn’t – for the most time they hang out in silence.

Ruggie – another cat to take care of?? And also, another mouth to feed?? Well that can’t be helped, it’s not like he is going to throw the poor thing away. I think he will manage to train it to do all kinds of tricks, like stealing stuff from others’ pockets or sneaking things away for Ruggie… the cat will be his partner in crime lol He would also probably have conversations with it, since it’s easier for him to talk to animals.

Jack – not only a dog-person, but also literally a dog, so he might have a hard time at first understanding that cat’s behavior. He is probably going to act like he isn’t interested at first, but jokes on him, because this only makes the cat more into him. He will literally sit all alone, radiating “don’t talk to me” aura, and the cat would think that this is exactly where it wants to sit – on Jack’s lap. Even though Jack is a tsundere, he is going to warm up eventually… and even while he is in his denial phase, he will take care of the cat by keeping it fed and letting it inside when it’s cold. Speaking of cold, Jack is very warm, so the cat loves him a lot…

Azul – “I don’t have time for this” at first, with all the reasons why having a cat is a bad idea popping up in his head at once. Similarly to Riddle’s mom’s mantra: it ruins furniture, it causes allergies, it sheds, it doesn’t behave… but he would also break very quickly, probably the moment the cat starts rubbing against his leg or purring at him. Azul would probably make quite a drastic 180 degree turn and enter his “a cartoon villain with a cat on his lap that he pets menacingly” phase by the end of his first day with the said cat. It feels good. It feels correct to pet a fluffy purring creature while you’re humiliating someone who is indebted to you. Also, of course he is going to treat the cat like royalty and get it all the best things… and also train it like a dog at the same time.

Floyd – people would think that he isn’t responsible enough to own a pet, but actually a cat would probably be the best pick for him. At first he would get all excited because this little buddy just suddenly decided to hang out with him. Floyd would just suddenly start appearing everywhere with a cat on his shoulder like he is a pirate or something. But then both the cat and Floyd would lose interest in each other, until they meet again and decide that they want to hang out again lol But while Floyd and cat are together, he takes it everywhere, plays with it a lot, races with it, cuddles it, smooches it, throws it in the air and catches it. Some of Floyd’s games aren’t the best for the cat, so Floyd ends up getting scratched and hissed at quite often, but for some reason the cat still adores him enough to let him do anything with it, even hold it upside-down.

Jade – it’s easy to picture him being a cat-lover because of the Sebastian parallels lol I think he would really enjoy owning a cat, and he would make it everyone else’s problem. Just like Floyd, he would walk around with a cat on his shoulders, but he would always mention it: please don’t mind my cat, he just loves me very much. I hope you are not bothered by my cat’s presence, he won’t bother us, I swear. Also, I think because Jade would actually try to properly take care of the cat, he would encounter some unpredictable issues, like a cat refusing to eat certain cat food or eating something it’s not supposed to eat. Jade would have a couple of moments that would make him fuss over it and even though he wouldn’t enjoy it… he likes the unpredictability. Keep chewing on random things, cat! But not too much, please.

Kalim – he would be so happy and excited!! It’s like making a friend, but a new kind of friend, a very fluffy one! Kalim is probably way too cuddly for the cat’s liking, so sometimes he would get confused by it running away from him. He just wants the cat to be happy… he would buy 5 cat towers, 30 toys and a bunch of cool accessories for the cat during the very first day of owning it (then he’ll buy more)! And 10 beds, so the cat could pick whichever it likes most (it sleeps in Kalim’s bed of course)!! And of course he will ask Jamil to learn how to cook delicious meals for the cat. He would try to feed the cat his own food first, but of course would stop once he learns that the cat shouldn’t eat spicy food…

Jamil – another one who would think that he doesn’t have time or energy to take care of another thing at first, but would warm up very quickly. He would tsundere up a bit when Kalim says that he is happy that Jamil has a little fluffy friend now, but after a while he will realise that Kalim is kind of right… a cat is even better than a friend. Hanging out with it doesn’t take as much energy, in fact, Jamil feels very energised after petting it and playing with it. Wow… a cat would do wonders to Jamil’s psyche…! He would both cuddle with it and let it sleep in his bed at night, and play a lot of active games with it whenever he has time for it.

Vil – despite how busy he always is, I think he would accept the cat immediately. The cat clearly chose him – it’s only fair that it’s Vil’s responsibility to take care of it now… I don’t think Vil has a lot of experience with cats, but he would read a lot of books and articles to make sure that the cat lives a good life in his dorm. He wouldn’t be as excessive as Kalim, but… he might have gotten carried away with the stuff that he got for the cat. But all of it is very necessary! The best cat food (he’ll ditch it after a while and start cooking for the cat himself), the best sleeping place, the best toys to make sure that the cat is active and healthy. He will also bathe it, brush its fur every day, trim its nails… Vil’s cat is going to be such a wonderfully groomed cat that knows all kinds of tricks and is very smart and well-behaved… but also Vil’s capricious baby that hates everyone other than him lol

Rook – oh, he wouldn’t consider himself an owner, he would always say that he is a companion to his cat lol He wouldn’t get surprised when the cat suddenly starts to follow him around, but he would act so flattered and honoured! Such a beautiful creature decided to illuminate his life with its presence. Rook is pretty good at talking to animals, so he would have conversations with his cat… While sitting in a tree together lol He would feed it of course, but he would also hunt with it and would prefer for it to catch its own prey. He also doesn’t want to trim its nails or groom it more than necessary, but alas, if it wants to live in Pomefiore with him, it has to follow Vil’s rules~ Rook wouldn’t want to anger the queen with an ill-behaved and dirty cat, right? Maybe he would prefer to keep the cat outside though, to keep it as undomesticated as possible. A weirdo…

Epel – he would be so happy! It’s been a while since he owned a pet, and this is the first time he has a cat. He would pet and cuddle it a lot, even if it’s still dirty… Of course, his first instinct would be to feed it and to bring it to his room. But he would also probably be anxious to bring it to the dorm: what if Vil sees it and takes it away… and even if Vil doesn’t see it, Rook is definitely going to notice the cat smell or something, and he will snitch on him! Anyways, he won’t be able to keep it a secret for a long time, but the cat will do some damage lol Surprisingly, Epel will only get scolded for not being a proper owner, so as long as he does better, the cat can stay. But it probably means that his senpai will start taking care of the cat as well. Epel will be a bit jealous, it’s his cat after all…

Idia – he’d die. He’d be so happy. A cat that doesn’t hate him? A cat that wants to hang out? A cat that FOLLOWS HIM TO HIS ROOM AND STAYS THERE? HIS CAT? Idia would feel like he spent all of his luck points that he had saved up for these 18 years. Or was it good karma? Anyways, Idia now spends all his time building cat towers and automatic feeders and toys and all kinds of gadgets for his cool new cat. At first he wouldn’t be as good at talking to a cat, and it would be very obvious that he is a bit worried when he pets it and doesn’t want to scare it away, but he’ll start cuddling with it pretty quickly. He’s so happy… It doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel real at all. Even when he gets used to the cat and stops being so awkward around it, he will still feel such huge wave of happiness every time he sees it, as if every time he sees it is the first time…

Ortho – this is the first time he has a fluffy friend, well, other than Grim of course! And Lucius isn’t very friendly with him either, so this is a pretty new experience! Of course, partially he would be excited because if he owns a cat, it’s Idia’s cat as well, and he knows how much Idia loves cats. But also, this is such a good opportunity to make a proper cat-to-human translator!.. It’s weird with Ortho. He has all the info he needs, and he is very good at some things, but somehow… petting and interacting with a cat is a bit difficult. Why doesn’t kitty want to eat this food? Why did it pee in the wrong place? What’s going on? I think he’ll end up asking Trein for advice a lot, and this will be a good experience for everyone involved. Also, his cat loves him more when his processor gets hot lol he is a walking heater.

Lilia – he would be happy at first and show off and brag because now he isn’t just cute, he’s double cute! With a cute cat on his head/shoulders! But at the same time, I don’t know if he is the best person to have a cat. I feel like he is one of those who try to feed it with milk, but also knowing Lilia, he literally makes those he cares for drink milk from a mug. Maybe he’d act differently with a cat, but it surely will be an adventure for this poor animal lol He plays with it similarly to how Floyd plays with his cat, and just like with Floyd, somehow it makes the cat very attached to him. Sometimes Lilia cuddles it and kisses it a lot, but a lot of times it’s the cat that gets clingy with Lilia and wants to sleep with its head on his shoulder. Acting like a baby, smh…

Silver – aw, he would be so good. Similarly to Rook, he would consider a cat to be a companion, but he would also try to be very responsible with his he takes care of it. He would take it to Diasomnia and let it sleep in his bed, wouldn’t do much grooming or brushing, but he would do his best in terms of playing with it and feeding it well, I think. Especially the latter lol But the majority of time the cat would just cuddle up and sleep with him whenever he’s dozing off.

Sebek – he has better things to do than to indulge in these games!! He says as he brings the cat home with a bunch of books with all the necessary information on how to take care of a cat!! Did he also fall victim of cute paws and purring? Maybe! But it won’t affect his performance as Malleus’ guard in a slightest! I think he will try to train the cat, and he might even succeed to some degree, but his cat won’t be as well-trained as Vil’s or Azul’s. Maybe the cat just doesn’t take him seriously and just wants to make biscuits on his stomach while sleeping on his lap… Sebek would seethe, but won’t move until the cat leaves :(

Malleus – the cat isn’t afraid of him? Oh he would be so delighted. He was very happy about the goat in the Glorious Masquerade event, and I think his reaction would be similar here: first amusement, a little surprise, but then he would get so tickled and excited for this new companionship. The cat would be allowed to seemingly disrespect Malleus by positioning itself on his horns, leaving fur on his garment, playing with his hair, and Malleus would laugh… until the cat scratches him. Then Malleus would start sulking. But he’ll get over it, he’s not a baby.

#replies #headcanons

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shysuccubusstuff · 5 months ago

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cozy afternoon! zayne

Content: NSFW content, masturbation (solo), no actual intercourse.

Plot: So, there's this line in which the game states that the MC forgot her clothes within the bathroom... what if she forgot something else?...

Note: Non-proof reader, sorry for not posting for a while. Hope you all like it :).

Number of words: 1,8K.

It was quite sudden, to be honest.

Just as you had finished your shower, there was a sudden knock on your door. When you looked through the small peephole, you were able to see Zayne there, waiting at your front door, his hair drenched by the sudden storm that started while he went out with some of his work mates after being pestered by almost each single female that worked there (as well as most males that actually saw him as some kind of idol) during around three whole weeks.

It took you a few seconds realize that Zayne was indeed there, at your door, his face was a bit flushed, and he was still wearing his formal attire which he used while he was at work. Luckily, he had been able to finish most of the paperwork he had, so he could allow himself to get some rest (not like he was taking advantage of the sudden storm, of course not). Your eyes were nailed to his pretty face, although something else quickly gained your attention, his clothes were completely drenched, making his shirt a bit translucent, just enough for you to be able to see his chest and fit body. He must have noticed it, as he suddenly got a bit flushed, his hands trying to hide his body just a bit. Finally, you were able to answer him, "Oh yeah! Of course, just enter the bathroom, you should have a shower, I'll try to search for something that may fit you." Just as you were about to run towards your room, Zayne spoke, "Are you sure you haven't left anything inside the bathroom?" You quickly denied it, rushing to your bedroom without allowing him to say whatever he was about to say.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to calm down, you took the clothes that could perhaps fit him (they were Xavier’s clothes, left by him in case he wanted to take a comfy nap in your own apartment), after clearing one of the main issues, you decided to start to prepare dinner, as it was already past eleven o’clock. While you were already cutting up the ingredients, a realization came to you. Your clothes! You had left your clothes (including your underwear) inside the bathroom, of course Zayne would have seen it by now! Despite that, you once again rushed, this time to the bathroom, you tried to be as quiet as a mouse, opening the door slowly, perhaps Zayne was still in the bathroom, sadly, this was not the case, as when you opened the door you found quite a sight.

Zayne, Zayne with his hair drenched, little droplets of water running down his body, his hand was wrapped around his shaft, your pretty underwear was also wrapped around it, his hand moving it up and down his length, as he tried to cover his soft moans by biting his lips. Just as you were about to leave the bathroom, he quickly turned around, his face completely flushed as he attempted to cover himself (unable to do so despite how hard he tried), you tried to explain yourself, “Oh, I just—remembered I had left my…clothes here, but it seems I was mistaken, I will search for them around my house, leave when you feel like it!” Of course that was a failed attempt to flee, as he quickly took you by your wrist. The towel was hiding his raging erection, but he still tried to remain as calmed as he was able to: “I’m…I’m sorry, I don’t know what took over me, you must be quite disgusted, I would completely understand if you wanted me to leave right now.” Well, how could you put it? Disgusted? Far from it, you were actually kinda (maybe way too) horny, I mean, seeing the man you loved losing it just because of your clothes? …Let’s be honest you were about to lose your mind, who could imagine someone as serious and “correct” as Zayne would lose his temper just from seeing the underwear of the person he loved. Just as he tried to make way for him to leave the bathroom, you got on his way, stopping him midway. “I don’t find you disgusting nor I want you to leave, Zayne, you-you are nothing if not precious to me.” Zayne’s hands tightened against the towel that was tied around his waist, almost as if trying to hold back. “I…I really don’t want you to feel somewhat pressured by this…this event” His face was much more flushed than before, perhaps it was just because of the embarrassment of being extremely close to you (of course not because of the little distance between his naked body and you).

You didn’t allow him to think it for longer, as you quickly pressed your lips against his. It was just a poor attempt of a real kiss, but it worked just as a spark, quickly making the doubtfulness of Zayne be blown away, his hands moved to your waist, caressing it as if it was the finest piece of art. His lips corresponded yours, swiftly taking charge of the kiss while his hands kept going up and down your back, sending small shivers down your spine. Who could image how experienced Zayne seemed at that moment?

Before you were able to respond, he had already taken both of you out of the small bathroom, having you on top of his lap as he made you a mess just through his tender hands and slightly cold lips, almost feeling as if you were about to melt on his hands. Despite Zayne had remained silent for a few minutes, it seemed that having you there all for himself gave him just enough confidence for him to actually state his feelings: “I have been trying so hard to simply ignore it, even to the point of wishing we had never met, but I have realized it is impossible, my soul is far too attached to you to even think about not meeting in our next lives. I no longer try to hide or avoid my own feelings, as I am well aware of them, I just… I don’t want to have you carry my own burden.” His eyes seemed to glisten with a mixture of nostalgia, desire and pure love. Regardless of that, you knew that he would refuse to develop that complex gaze, he did indeed avoid it, as his lips were once again kissing yours, the sudden warmth making your head spin a bit.

His little game kept going for a few minutes, sometimes allowing himself to play with your covered nipples over the little t-shirt you were wearing, making Zayne lose a bit more of his control every time your lips parted letting those soft pants and moans leave your mouth, or when you are slowly grinded against him, his hips rising just for him get a bit more friction, just a bit more.

The situation got even worse when you suddenly pulled away, leaving Zayne all high on the feeling, his cold hands tightly gripping your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch away from him, almost as if he was afraid of you disappearing from his grasp. His once cold hands were quite warm, perhaps as a result of the mixture between the alcohol in his veins and the extremely… sticky situation. He got you closer to him, keeping his hands just where they had been, “Why are you trying to run away from me?... Don’t you love me?” The cold exterior of Zayne was suddenly melting, his expression turning even softer against you, his head resting against your shoulder, as he whispered those soft words, a slightly possessive undertone kept lingering around his words, almost as if he was trying to enchant you with his velvety voice whispering sweet nothings against you. Zayne hands kept going up your back, starting to play with the fastener. When did he learn to be so…cute?

Despite his tactics, you tried to recover the composure, yes, you both may have kissed (perhaps even more kissing…), but you shouldn’t cross that kind of line, not when Zayne was barely able to keep his eyes open, Sadly, Zayne didn’t even flinch, regardless of how many times you tried to make him understand that you did in fact like him, but you preferred doing this type of stuff when he was completely there, not just half of his conscience. Making a small fuss, Zayne kept playing with your soft chest, finally getting rid of your bra and starting to play with your pretty nipples, pinching them every time you tried to re-explain why doing that kind of thing right now could be a bad idea, and how he should wait for some other day. He put one of his hands over your mouth, getting on top of you and lowering his face just enough for his lips to caress one of your nipples, starting to play with it, sucking on it as he smiled wickedly, his other hand playing with your other nipple, making you let out soft moans despite you knew how you should try to stop him before he could regret it the following morning. He stopped for a second, speaking way too close to your chest and letting his warm breath against your skin. “Would you let me pleasure you…? Just a little, I promise.” He looked just like a lost puppy; how could you refuse him? So of course, you (once again) gave in, allowing him to get rid of your soft pyjama pants together with your underwear. He moved away from you, lowering so he could align his mouth with your sweet cunt, allowing his tongue to enter you slowly, sucking on your clit while one of his hands started to play with your entrance, other times caressing your clit until it was all sensitive, making you cry out every time he decided to act mean, sucking on it while his finger entered you, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks due to the overstimulation.

He prologued this sweet torture until you became just a crying mess, babbling incoherent words as you tried to get him to move away, just enough for you to feel less lightheaded. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how much you tried to move him, his sturdy arms were keeping you at your place, not allowing you to move even an inch without him pressing down on you, making you feel breathless as his body towered over your frame. “Please…my mind is hazy…” Your words seemed to fall into deaf ears, as his tongue and fingers kept torturing your sweet cunt, making you cum over and over his mouth, swallowing your alluring fluids, only stopping when you were on the verge of passing out. His warm hands took your limp body, switching positions and letting you rest on his chest. He took the soft blanket that was placed on the other duvet, covering both of you and interlocking his arms around his beloved one.

#love and deep space #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #fanfiction #smut #x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagines

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mybworlds · 3 days ago

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Chapter 9: Emptiness

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.:

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

The air suddenly becomes suspended, as if charged with a strange electricity. Patrick no longer speaks and Joel seems to have become a statue, you don't know what to do or say. You wish you hadn't been so direct and hasty in your words, but now it's done, you can't go back.

“Patrick?” you resume “I'm sorry, but I had to tell you the truth. It's not fair that you still believe or hope that we'll get back together.” you are lapidary even though you don't know if there will actually something with Joel, but you really hope so.

Patrick sighs, “I see.” He sighs again, “Are you happy?”

You feel a tightness in the pit of your stomach, you close your eyes and look up at Joel who instead is not looking at you anymore and you feel empty. Is he afraid? Does he not want to? Does he not care about you?

On the other hand, he’s always been clear, he told you since your first meeting that he doesn't want a relationship with you or anyone else, why should he change his mind now? For you? Not even before you were in bed, he told you that he wanted a future with you, he just told you that he was fine, but... while for you that might mean having feelings, for him it might not be like that.

“I'm confused.” You are sincere in your response to Patrick.

“He doesn’t want you?” he asks you.

You look up at Joel who has his back to you now, his body turned toward the kitchen and his hands resting on the sink, his head still low.

“I don't know.” You answer him and in those moments, seeing his reaction, you can't help but wonder if deep down you didn't do everything wrong with Joel and Patrick. “Patrick, I'm sorry,” you add, clutching the phone tighter.

“We’ve both hurt each other, baby.” He sighs. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with him, but I hope he makes you feel more important than I did.” he adds with a regretful tone.

You wanted to tell him that given Joel's expression, it's highly unlikely that you can or he will want to continue seeing you. But you don’t say anything.

“I wish you every happiness,” Patrick tells you again.

“Yes, you too.” there’s still a moment of silence between you, then he ends the call.

You place the phone on Joel's kitchen peninsula and then look up, taking in the weight of the words you just said: Joel is silent and motionless as if everything he has heard has robbed him of the strength to move and speak. He still doesn't look at you.

“Joel?” you call, getting up from the stool. “I’m sorry you heard it that way, but… it’s the truth.”

He sighs, looking towards the window next to the kitchen, “Do you know why I never wanted to bond with someone again?” he asks without looking at you.

You shake your head, even though you know he's not looking at you.

“Because I can’t stand to see or hear words like the ones I heard. D’ you know what my ex-wife said to me when I tried to find a way to get back together?” he pauses, a long one and that's when he turns towards you “That she had fallen in love with someone else, that she was confused, that things between us weren't workin’. Do you know how that made me feel? Useless, a useless man." he nods “And the worst thing is that Patrick is my friend and I did what I did to him.”

You frown, “There were two of us, there have always been two of us who were together, in confiding in each other.” You tell him almost in a pleading tone “Please, don’t feel guilty. We both wanted it.” he shakes his head. “Joel? Please don’t.” a horrible creepy feeling spreads inside you, Joel doesn't want you. He's pushing you away.

Your eyes fill with tears, your lips tremble, you look down, while timid tears fly towards the floor. You feel like throwing up, a feeling of rejection, of pain tightens your stomach making you almost unable to breathe.

“Please, talk to me.” you beg.

His face becomes tense, then he finally looks up at you and the sweet look you had found there until a few minutes ago has disappeared. He looks cold, his gaze hard, then shakes his head, “I can’t.” his gaze is empty, unrecognizable.

“Maybe we could...”

“No.” his tone is cold, he doesn’t allow for replies “There’s no us.” you freeze in place "You better go.” he adds, looking everywhere but at you.

The world around you is spinning wildly. Suddenly nothing seems to make sense, every thought you have is jumbled together so meaningless. Your lower lip is trembling, shy tears are streaming down your cheeks, “That was the reason why I just fucked. Now even that won't be possible anymore because every time it’ll happens, I won't be able to help but wonder if I will see your same look in another woman, or if any other woman won't want to change her life because of me." his is a thin whisper in which each word is well articulated and impossible not to hear.

You’re about to tell him not to shut himself away, not to treat you like this, but he interrupts you again, “When you go out, make sure you close the door tightly.”

You're about to repeat his name and beg him not to treat you like this, but nothing comes out of your mouth, not even a sound. He gives you one last long, silent look, then you're left alone in his house.

You look desperate and absent at the same time, you don't even know where you're going. You only know that you're empty, completely empty. Your heart is beating hard in your chest, it hurts. You are speechless and almost breathless. What happened has completely shaken you. You are struggling not to give in to the tears that are building up in the back of your eyes.

Everything is destroyed. Everything is lost.

You have lost everything.

You have nothing left and what could have been a beautiful project that you could have shared with him, with Joel, has disintegrated because by his own admission he himself has already lived everything and does not intend to do it again. He's always been clear from the beginning. His previous relationship burned him so much that even his heart is reduced to ashes and now maybe hearing it beat again for someone pains him so much that he doesn't want to feel it.

You wipe away your tears a couple of times, not wanting to attract anyone's attention. You know that surely no one will even look at your face, but crying for you has always been an act to be done alone.

You have now arrived in front of your shop, the seat of your great infinite pride, your job. Maybe everything can start from here, from who you are, a photographer, a good photographer. And it's not you who says it, but the people who turn to you.

You struggle to concentrate, your mind often goes back there, to that silent goodbye. Joel won't go back. If his ex-wife hurt him as much as he says, he won't look for you again.

No matter how hard you try to think positively, to focus on something else, your mind always takes you back to that exact moment, to when you destroyed three lives at once, when you uttered those fateful words.

I fell in love with someone else.

You feel stupid because for a day you really had illusions that Joel could choose you, but then all of that dissolved before your eyes, shattering your hopes and your heart.

Emptiness.

That's what you feel.

Emptiness.

Just a deep, unbridgeable void.

As the hours pass, the situation does not improve, indeed it seems always be worse.

You feel weak, cowardly, maybe the problem is not Patrick or Joel who clearly rejected you, but you are the problem. Maybe you need so much love, passion, desire that you don't care about making others feel bad if you're fine.

What kind of person have you become?

Daisy's words that should comfort you make you collapse into a state of great despair. She’s very sweet, she takes great care of you in every possible and imaginable way, but all this doesn't lift your spirits.

You don't know what kind of person you are anymore. You once knew exactly who you were and what you wanted, you thought you knew it and you went straight down that road.

The result?

You hit a wall called Joel Miller. A wall that left your heart broken, bleeding and humiliated you like no one had ever done before.

But you want to make a last desperate attempt, you want to talk to him. You want to do it calmly, find the right words and not be reckless. You know it will almost certainly hurt to hear certain things, but you want to hear them. You have two.

Are you a masochist?

Yes, maybe.

But then you tell yourself that if he's cruel to you again, you'll be the one who doesn't want to think about him anymore. You want him, you want him in your life, but you don't want someone who makes you feel weak and vulnerable, who uses you and then throws you away like that.

You are not like that, you know it. You know you are worth so much more than this. You deserve better. And if that better is being without Joel Miller, then so be it.

Daisy of course advises you against it. She says you aren’t thinking clearly yet. You feel confused, but determined.

It's been almost three weeks and now you're sure you want to talk to him, you need to. Even if you know you probably won't get a different answer than the one you've already had, but as much as it may hurt you now you want to put an end to it.

The emptiness he left in you has given way to disappointment and anger.

You reach his house thinking about what to say to him, but everything seems stupid or incoherent. You are in front of his place.

You ring the bell.

What the fuck are you doing here?

You hear a voice shouting ‘comin’, it’s a woman. Your heart skips a beat. A moment later, a beautiful woman opens the door. The woman is wearing a bathrobe, she looks strong and determined, but above all happy. She smiles at you, “You’re the delivery guy, aren’t you? You were fast!”

You're shocked, “No... uhm, is Joel there?”

“Yes, are you a colleague of his?” she asks you, pulling the edges of his bathrobe a little tighter.

“No.”

“So, who are you?” she asks.

“Uhm…”

“Tess, who’s there?” another voice from inside reaches your ears. It's Joel.

Joel appears behind her, opening the door a little wider. His expression changes from puzzled to astonished, then he becomes gloomy, “What are you doing here?” he asks you.

What are you doing there? You're wondering that too.

Tess looks at your face, then at Joel's. You don't know what to answer.

You kind of expected it, but not in such a brutal way. He replaced you even though he told you he couldn't do that anymore after what you told him.

“Sorry, I was wrong to come.” You don’t know what else to say to them.

How stupid!

You turn your back on them, feeling a lump in your throat. You move away quickly from Joel’s place. You were wrong to go there, but now more than ever you feel like you can move on and stop thinking about him. He has already replaced you. There’s nothing left for you.

You decide you don't want to think about Joel Miller anymore, since you met him you have fallen into a vortex of passion, he has satisfied you every time, but no one has shattered your heart like he did. You hold your hair with both hands, tonight you stay in your shop where you tinker with the computer. You look back at all the photoshoots you've done over the last two years and think about how many times you've put yourself aside to please others, but making yourself unhappy and pretending it was your decision.

Now all this has to end. From now on you will only think about yourself, for a while enough with love. You have only known how to make a lot of messes. You go through some old emails and find one from a few years ago that you received for a fashion show of a prestigious fashion house. You never wanted to trash it because you liked to remember that moment and then because in the email as a post scriptum they had written to you that if you had been interested there would always have been a place for you. It was really a great service that you did, you remember that they wrote to you that the sales had even tripled after your work!

You smile while looking at the screen. Why not!

Maybe Saint Barbara will do you good.

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 years ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: spoilers for season 5 episode 14, swearing

AN: alright so this (https://livelovecaliforniadreams.tumblr.com/post/708057089960034304) is what I’m talking about I just couldn’t find still pics for it. I love it so much 😭

I walked the hall to get to the shop when I heard someone muttering behind a closed door. It sounded like Tim so I knocked on the door and slowly opened it. Slipping in, I took one look at Tim before I burst out laughing.

“Oh my god Tim! What happened?” I took a step towards him when he shot me an angry glare.

“Metro happened.” He grumbled as he turned back to the mirror and tried to peel off the unicorn stickers stuck to his shirt. I bit my lip to stop laughing and slowly made my way over to him. “They glued them?! Of course they glued them.” He muttered. “I can’t get them off.” He turned to me, seething and on the edge of losing it. I gently put my hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

“It’s ok. We’ll figure it out.” I smiled at him and he nodded, eyes still raging but slowly calming down. “Do you have another shirt to wear?” He shook his head.

“This was my last one. Todays laundry day.” He looked away from me. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” His voice cracked and he winced. Rubbing his arm, I waited for him. “(Y/N), what am I going to do? I have to go back after lunch.” I nodded and turned back to lock the door.

“Alright. Doors locked. No one’s coming in.” I gestured for him to take off his shirt. “Shirt off. Let’s go.” Tim looked at me incredulously. “Let’s go Bradford. I’m gonna soak it.”

“Will that work?” I shrugged.

“Worth a shot.” He continued to stare at me. “Let’s go boot! Shirt off!” I commanded. Tim snapped out of it and shot me a glare as he stripped off his shirt.

“No staring. Get to work.” He said. I smiled at him and blocked the sink. While I waited for the sink to fill up, I turned towards him and kissed his cheek.

“Sir yes sir.” I teased. Tim laughed as his hands settled on my waist. I tossed the shirt into the sink, holding it down and making sure all the unicorns were submerged. Tim wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” He whispered. I hummed and leaned my head against his. “I mean it. Thank you. I don’t know what I would do today if it wasn’t for you.” Smiling, I turned to kiss his cheek.

“Be covered in unicorns all day and not be taken seriously.” I teased. Tim rolled his eyes and gently swayed with me. He jumped back suddenly and let go of me.

“I forgot! I have something for you.” He dug through his bag and pulled out a small slip. Turning back to me, he held it out. Letting go of the shirt, I waited to see if it would float to the top. When it didn’t, I turned towards him and cocked my head. “Go ahead take it.” I took the slip from him and laughed.

“Really Tim?” I teased. “You’re giving me your last unicorn?” Tim rolled his eyes again and hugged me.

“Shut up.” He kissed my temple and rubbed my back. “It doesn’t have glue. I checked. I know how you like stickers.” Leaning his head against mine, he hummed contentedly.

“That’s true. And kind of sweet actually.” I murmured. “Tim are you going sweet on me? Keeping things you think I’ll like in your pack until you see me again?” Tim smiled as he pulled back to kiss me.

“Sounds like I am.” He joked. I kissed him again before turning back to his shirt in the sink. Pulling it out, I gently peeled the stickers from his shirt.

“Success!” I cheered as he joined me and we took off the stickers. “Now hurry to the bathroom, run this under the hand dryer and hopefully it’ll dry out quickly.” Tim nodded as he kissed my cheek.

“Thank you (Y/N). I don’t know what id do without you.” He left the room and I smiled to myself, tucking my sticker into my pocket. Shaking my head, I left the room and headed back to my shop.

#Tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim Bradford fanfic #Tim Bradford fanfiction #Tim Bradford imagine #Eric winter fanfiction #Eric winter #eric winter x reader #eric winter imagine #eric winter fanfic

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mythunderstorm · 1 year ago

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Gott, ich liebe dich | MS47

mick schumacher x fem!reader

This is just a fluffy something, no drama no nothing. I just want to daydream about me and Mick living our best life LOL

word count: 656

Idk this has literally no purpose and the ending is kinda rushed and weird but I wanted to post again hahah

Warnings: maybe the slightest mention of a breeding kink, if you squint.🧍🏽

And i’m pretty sure there are some grammar mistakes

(Btw I know Gina‘s not pregnant but let’s just pretend for the story😭)

masterlist

„You know you don’t have to help me with all of this, right y/n? You’re a guest like everyone else.“

„If you think I‘m gonna let you prepare everything on your own you really don’t know me well Corinna!“ you say laughing, continuing to cut the tomatoes for the salad. Corinna wanted to host a nice summer garden party to finally get family and friends together again on this absolutely beautiful day. Even your parents would attend and travel to Switzerland after not seeing them for quite a while.

It’s still early, the temperature is nice and not too hot, which makes preparations a lot easier. Mick and Gina are sitting in the garden, soaking up the early morning sun and enjoying the quietness before all the guests arrive in a few hours.

„I‘m gonna bring Mick a new coffee and check if Gina needs something, i‘ll be back in a second“ you say, smiling at Corinna before you walk towards the backyard.

Your boyfriend has his back to you, you smile, holding the hand with the coffee cup in front of his chest while leaning against his back, giving his neck a small kiss.

„Hey Schatz“ you can hear him smiling. „Thanks for the coffee, you’re a sweetheart.“ „Oh I know“ you giggle, kissing his cheek.

You turn to go back inside but Mick is fast to catch your wrist, pulling you back. „Staay!“ he whines. „You‘ve been running around all morning, just stay here for a bit.“ Mick says while giving you actual puppy eyes. You giggle. „I can’t Mickey, someone has to help your Mom with preparations!“ while saying this you can see from the corner of your eye how Gina is starting to get up so you turn to her, giving her a disapproving look. „Don’t you dare Gina! Sit back down, let me bring you a juice and RELAX. You won’t lift a finger today, alright?“ „If you say so“, she laughs.

„You know you don’t have to do this, right? You’re not here to be mom’s little helper in the kitchen“ Mick suddenly says. You give him a soft look, caressing his cheek with your hand. „Ich weiß Baby. I enjoy helping her, it’s no problem.“ I know Baby

You lean up, giving Mick a soft kiss.

„Gott, ich liebe dich“ you can hear him mumble. You smile. „Ich liebe dich auch.“ God, I love you + I love you too

With that being said, you go back to help Corinna, but not without bringing Gina her well deserved juice.

———

A few hours later everything is prepared, the food is ready to be devoured by the guests and the garden is decorated, with the help of Mick. The sun is standing high on the sky when the first people arrive at the Schumacher home.

More and more people find themself in the beautiful garden but Mick is nowhere to be seen. After running around all morning you are craving a hug and maybe some kisses from the man who stole your heart years ago.

You go back into the house, trying the kitchen first and running into Corinna.

Before you get the chance to open your mouth, she smiles „He‘s in the living room sweetheart.“

You smile back. „Danke!“ Thanks

“Hier bist du! I’ve been looking for you baby.” There you are!

Mick chuckles, “Sorry Liebling, I fled all those people who claim they’ve changed my diaper at least once while I was a baby.” Love

You giggle while embracing your boyfriend in a loving hug. “I think you’re safe now”, you mumble against Micks neck, “everyone is focused on Ginas growing baby bump.”

“Just wait mein Schatz, soon everyone will be focusing on you!” my treasure

You laugh, lightly hitting the back of Micks head “Yea, you’d like that huh?”

Mick places a small kiss right under your ear while squeezing your ass. “Oh I’d very much like that.

———

yea i‘d let mick knock me up tbh

ik this is so short, i‘m trying to write sth longer in the future😭 ideas who i should write about??

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher #ms47 #msc47 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1

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infinitystoner · 11 months ago

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Underneath the Tree

AO3 | Masterlist

✨part of @sarahscribbles’ Christmas Collection; header by @inklore✨

Summary: You’re expecting to spend the holidays without your other half. So when Loki reappears the night before Christmas, you indulge in a little merriment to make up for lost time.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags/Content: Holiday Surprises Befitting the God of Mischief, Romantic Reunions, Fluff, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Anal Sex), Soft Dom! Loki, Established Relationship

Rating: Explicit; 18+

Author’s note: Here be the Yuletide filth! I realize butt stuff isn’t for everyone, but it’s actually really soft and sweet (and not overly explicit). If you like my writing, I hope you give it a chance. xx

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention as you pad across the kitchen floor, unnerved by the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You abandon your post-bath time snack on the counter, clutching at your bathrobe as trepidation gnaws at the back of your mind.

With the curtains drawn, only the glimmering lights on your Christmas tree illuminate the living room. It’s hard to see anything beyond silhouettes and shadows. A quiet night like this amidst the bustling holiday season is a rare treat, and you should be grateful and relaxed, but you just can’t shake the feeling that you’re not alone.

You try to ignore the frantic beat of your pulse thundering in your ears as you inch closer to the tree. Did someone break in while you were in the shower? The rational part of your brain knows it’s downright laughable to entertain such a thought. A security breach is practically impossible thanks to Tony’s impenetrable tech. Unless…

“You’re back,” you say cautiously, voice no louder than a whisper.

A surge of longing permeates your being, doing little to appease the rapid beating of your heart. The familiar shuffle of centuries-old leather catches your attention, all fear melting away as you turn to see a formidable figure emerge from the corner.

Loki.

“I’m back,” he responds simply.

He closes in, his gaze never leaving yours, the purposeful sound of his heavy boots on your hardwood floors resonating through the space. Loki’s presence is a solace you can’t quite articulate—but suddenly there’s a warmth filling the cracks that etched across your heart when he left. And there’s a calm wrapping around your solitude like a cozy blanket on the coldest winter night.

You study the god before you, the Christmas lights casting a soft glow over his figure. His dark curls fall in waves atop his shoulders, regally framing his perfectly sculpted features. His brows slant upward as he drinks in the sight of you, a dimple appearing along his cheek as he returns your smile. When he slides his hands around your waist, your stomach somersaults at his touch.

You take a deep breath and reach up to cup his jaw, savoring the coolness of his smooth skin. Loki leans into your palm, closing his eyes and exhaling a deep sigh. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. You can’t resist the urge to pull him into a tight embrace, humming as his strong arms wrap around you in response.

He tenderly presses a kiss to your temple, tugging you closer against his muscular chest. The scent of ancient forests, leather, and musk—along with something sweeter you can’t quite place—invades your senses. Finally, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“Did you miss me?”

Loki searches your eyes, a hint of apprehension marring his beautiful face. He’s only been gone for about six weeks—which is nothing compared to the months you previously spent without him. But how did you ever think you’d be okay spending the holiday without him?

You glance up at him with feigned exasperation.

“Of course I missed you, you silly, gorgeous man. But did it ever occur to you to knock? Or call ahead? Perhaps send a raven?”

A devilish smirk adorns lips. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“But what if I’d attacked you? I wasn’t expecting you back until after–”

“Attacked me?” Loki chuckles, sitting on the sofa and pulling you onto his lap. “Now that I’d like to see.”

“Is that so?” you ask, caressing the gold plating embellishing his chest and trailing your fingertips across the high collar of his leathers, stopping only when you reach the sharp juncture of his jaw. He peers up at you as you straddle his hips, and the glint of mischief in his eyes is exhilarating.

“Mm, perhaps later, my little vixen.”

With a flick of his wrist, a fire roars to life in your hearth. Beyond the crackles and pops of the blaze, a familiar Christmas song begins to play and you swear more twinkling lights appear on your tree. You’re not sure if the night can get more perfect than this.

“What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of this time of year? Season’s Greetings?”

“Something like that.”

“You know, we host a similar winter festival on Asgard,” he explains as you tuck his hair behind his ear, exposing the column of his neck. “It’s rather extravagant. Hedonistic, some might say.”

“So, you willingly left the decadence of Asgard. To spend Christmas on Earth. With me.”

“Is that really so inconceivable, my love? I am, to borrow another turn of phrase, quite smitten, I’m afraid.”

“Just wanted to be sure,” you tease, but a familiar tingling sparks in your core at his admission. Sometimes you can hardly believe this man—this god—fell so hopelessly in love with you. Of course, you have your issues like any other couple. Dating an alien who once tried to take over your planet does not come without consequence. But, oh, the way he’s looking at you now makes it all worth it.

“And I believe this is a holiday spent in the company of those you care about, is it not?” he continues. “Besides, Mother quickly picked up on the fact I was more distracted than usual and blessed my departure.”

“Must remember to thank Frigga for this Christmas surprise,” you joke, pretending to jot down a note.

The curious arch of Loki’s brows soon contorts into an expression of ecstasy as you begin to work your lips along the column of his neck, nipping at his skin.

“Gods,” he quietly says, shifting beneath you and tightening his grip on your waist. His low rumble of pleasure is a sound you can happily lose yourself in. With a final press of your tongue to the erogenous zone below his ear, you lean back, but Loki is quick to capture your lips in a blistering kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close and savoring the taste of him. A trace of mulled wine lingers on his mouth, and you wonder if he left Asgard in the midst of the aforementioned Yuletide celebration.

“So, are you going to tell me?” you murmur against his lips. “Or am I to believe it was only the thought of startling me in the middle of the night that drew you away from your royal duties?”

“What?” Loki’s brows furrow in sincere confusion, his mouth agape.

“You said you were distracted…”

“Oh, yes. That.” The knowing glance he gives you in response sends a jolt of arousal coursing through your body. He clears his throat, running his hands under the curve of your ass before rolling you over onto your back.

“I was distracted by you,” he says, pulling your robe open. “You infiltrated my every waking thought, you infuriating woman.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” you giggle, biting your bottom lip as he magicks away his armor. His alabaster skin is ethereal under the amber glow of the blazing fire, every dip of his chiseled torso cast in devastating shadows, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he leans over you. Your fingertips ghost over the fine smattering of hair below his navel, their sensuous journey interrupted by a band of leather. You whine, tugging at his trousers.

“Patience, darling,” he snickers, kissing along your collarbone. His tongue flits along the valley of your breasts and a white hot heat coils in your hips. Loki tilts his chin up, darkened eyes piercing your very soul. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he moves against your skin. You arch into him with a gasp, fingers digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders, his lithe muscles rippling under your touch.

“And we’ve both been so very patient, haven’t we?”

A wolfish grin creeps across his face as he tenderly pushes your thighs toward your stomach, his hands pushing your knees outward as you offer yourself up to him. You’re completely exposed, but any hint of inhibition dissipates as you note the unadulterated lust in your lover’s eyes.

Loki inhales sharply, greedily consuming what little air is left between you. Within seconds his mouth is warm against your cunt, and a broken moan escapes you. You twist your fingers into his hair as your entire body shudders in response to his enthusiastic movements, your frenzied mind attempting to process the situation. Twenty minutes ago, you were content with the idea of crawling into bed with a tin of shortbread and a good book. And now? Well, if you’re not careful, you’re going to come before things even get started. Loki realizes this and lightly grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his hair and guiding it behind your knee.

“Here,” he says, his hand engulfing yours as he presses it firmly against the back of your trembling thigh. Your pussy clenches at his simple command as you obediently move your legs further apart, contorting your body to his will. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you—all of you—as you settle into the new position, your back relaxing into the softness of the cushions beneath you.

The soles of your feet brace against his clavicles as he dips back between your legs, sucking at the soft flesh along your inner thigh before returning his attention to your core. When his eager tongue glides past your cunt to circle the sensitive area further down, you nearly levitate off the sofa.

Loki groans as he laps at you, his sinful slurps creating an intoxicating melody in your mind, the Christmas music long forgotten. You choke on air as the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, languidly rubbing circles as his tongue continues to explore your hole. The novel sensation is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

Thoughts of experiencing Loki this way had dwelled in the dark recesses of your mind for months now. You’d shamelessly pleaded for it during your last night together all those weeks ago while in the throes of passion. But Loki, with his silver tongue and roguish charm, was infuriatingly persuasive and surprisingly sensible. And so you had agreed to wait.

“Don’t tempt me, little one,” he had coyly responded as he slid the tip of his cock along the curve of your ass, trailing down until he made contact with your cunt. Yet the intensity with which his fingers dug into your hips as you begged for more let you know he wanted it just as much as you did.

“Something to look forward to,” he’d mumbled into your ear as he pressed his firm chest against your back, the sheen of sweat coating your skin intermingling with his as he buried himself inside your cunt for the third time that evening.

Your wait, it seems, is over.

“Norns, you’re divine,” Loki says, lifting his head to peer at you across your heaving torso. He continues rolling his thumb over your clit as he kisses along your stomach, his soft curls falling across your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Shall I keep going?”

“Yes,” you rasp, doing little to conceal the urgent need in your voice. “But don’t we need the–”

You nod toward the bedroom, alluding to the bottle of lube tucked away in your nightstand. But the words catch in the back of your throat as a cool, lubricated finger nudges where Loki’s mouth had just been. You glance down at the god, furrowing your brow as you observe a flash of seidr ignite the space between you.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Loki lets out a breathy laugh as he looks up from his spot between your legs, his eyes dark with desire. His raven hair falls in a curtain around his face as his gaze darts back down to your center.

“I’m giving you exactly what you asked for.” Loki grins, slowly pressing his middle finger inside you. You nearly sob as your anticipation is engulfed by a rush of euphoria.

“I’m giving you all of me,” he adds, an exhilarating ache rippling through your core as a second finger joins the first.

“Oh my god,” you cry out as the blend of forbidden and familiar pleasure overwhelms your senses. Loki’s fingers steadily move inside you while he licks a wide stripe through your folds and you toss your head back with a hiss.

“Relax, love,” he says softly, wrapping a large hand behind your knee and guiding it over his shoulder. As you settle into the new position, Loki’s gifted tongue swirls around your throbbing clit, the skillful drag of it sending adrenaline searing through every nerve ending in your body.

“You’re doing so good,” he continues, his voice ragged and deep as he watches you squirm beneath him.

“S-so good,” you echo, keening at his praise. “Loki—fuck—you feel so good.”

He continues to gently move his fingers inside you, pushing deeper with each pump until you feel his palm flatten against your cunt. You slur his name, winding your fingers into his hair once more in an attempt to ground yourself. It doesn’t work.

“More. Please,” you beg, the words tumbling from your lips without conscious thought. Loki responds by stilling his motions and removing his fingers from you. You huff, pushing yourself up into a seated position and forcing Loki to shuffle onto his knees to avoid sliding off the edge of the sofa. What the hell?

“Loki…” you caution, your heart wildly beating in your chest as he tauntingly returns your gaze. He simply laughs, clearly amused by your little display of assertiveness.

“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?” he says, hands trailing up your thighs and around the curve of your ass. You both know you’re at his mercy tonight. “I knew I saw your name on the naughty list.”

“You’re not playing fair.”

No, he’s just playing on his own terms. Taunting you like he always does—a cat toying with his mouse.

“I’m merely trying to determine exactly how much more you can take,” he drawls as he nuzzles his nose along your neck.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you respond coyly, running your fingertips along his leather-clad erection.

You know he can see right through you, can sense the way he’s driving you mad. And before you can give your next bratty retort, Loki tightens his grip on your ass and forcefully pulls you toward him. As your bare chest makes contact with his, a shiver rolls down your spine.

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, reveling in the power he possesses. You moan into his mouth as his hands roam your body with a hunger that leaves you breathless. All that matters is the feel of his tongue against yours, the touch of his cool hands on your heated skin. Your pulse quickens as Loki pulls away to admire you, his eyes glazed over with lust. You need him. All of him. Now.

“And I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this, Loki,” you concede breathlessly. “I want you.”

“Words cannot convey how much I want this—want you—in return, my love.” A reassuring smile spreads across his features as he coaxes you to lie back down. Your heartbeat thrums with excitement as you comply with his request, and as you open your legs for him once more, you feel his eyes burning into your skin like a fiery brand.

“You’re sure?” Loki asks quietly, dropping his mask of dominance a moment as he brushes a finger along your slit, skimming the delicate skin between your ass cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Y-yes,” you whimper as he finally—completely—undresses himself in a wave of gold.

Stunning, you think, taking in the vision of Loki kneeling between your legs. His chest heaves with each shallow breath, his cock resting heavy against his muscular thigh. You let out a small whine when his hand leaves your body, wrapping it around the base of his shaft instead. He tosses his head back, and the small grunt that tumbles from his lips as he begins to stroke himself is positively sinful.

“Say it again. Please,” he chokes out, tugging the foreskin over the glistening, swollen head of his cock.

“I need you, Loki,” you say, shifting against the blankets and cushions.

He’s unwaveringly graceful as he guides your legs around his hips, positioning himself above you as the tip of his cock presses into your tight entrance. The pressure is beyond anything you’ve experienced before, and for a fleeting moment, your eyes widen in trepidation.

“Breathe, darling one.”

And so you do. Loki guides your breaths as he steadily stretches you to what you’re certain is your limit. You begin to lose yourself as the heady scent of sex wisps through the room like tendrils of Loki’s seidr, entwining with the heightened groans of carnal bliss.

“Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“So full. But… but good,” you manage to say, and it’s the truth. As your body relaxes into his movements, everything becomes more comfortable. Your hands graze down his back until they find the firm swell of his ass, pulling him deeper.

Loki growls out an old Norse curse as he bottoms out—his hip bones flush against the back of your thighs. You’ve never taken this much of him before, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You clench in response.

“My perfect girl,” he praises. With controlled precision, he starts to rock into you and every throbbing inch of his cock drags against your walls in the most delicious way. Soon, his fingers are circling your swollen clit and the pressure in your hips becomes too much to bear.

“So perfect,” he repeats between grunts, your body writhing as he brings you closer and closer to release. Like a caged bird set free, you soar higher and higher, the world spreading beneath you in all its glory as you ascend toward the stars. With one final thrust, you come undone.

Loki presses his forehead to yours as a strangled whimper rips from his throat, his own orgasm quickly following yours.

You stay like that for a while, a tangle of limbs and heaving breaths on your sofa. Eventually, everything comes back into focus: the fire, the music, the twinkling tree.

“That was quite the gift,” you say as Loki settles beside you.

“Certainly, you don’t think that was your only gift?” He tuts and casts you a rakish wink. “Your next surprise awaits you in the bedroom.”

You giggle as Loki stands and scoops you into his arms.

“Honestly. What kind of imbecile gives their love only one orgasm on Christmas Eve?”

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#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction

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