#the good thing is that noone actually asked him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hausofwoo · 6 months ago

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handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho

add me to the taglist!

#choi san #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san #san smut #san fic #san x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez fic

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monzabee · 3 months ago

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diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument.

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!!

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.”

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?”

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.”

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact.

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?”

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.”

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?”

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.”

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.”

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.”

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.”

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.”

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!”

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”

“You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.”

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.”

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?”

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.”

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.”

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—”

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips.

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—”

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink."

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure.

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.”

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!”

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.”

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly.

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.”

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away.

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.”

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut

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l33n1s · 9 months ago

Text

No but Shen Twins AU where Shen Yuan is technically a member of Cang Qiong Mt sect but he's almost never there cause he's too busy traveling and studying/documenting all of the cool plants and animals.

But when he Does spend time at the sect it's Qing Jing Peak's emotional equivalent to Christmas, cause Shen Jiu is actually in a good mood (as good as his moods get at least) and Shen Yuan has picked up a habit of bringing sweets for the disciples. He just shows up and suddenly the bamboo house doesn't seem so empty, Shen Jiu actually seems comfortable for once, and the whole peak's atmosphere seems to shift.

And, it's always a very jaring experience for new disciples the first time they meet Shen Yuan. Cause there's this guy who looks exactly like their teacher but is so much less severe. His posture is a little more relaxed, he Actually smiles at them every once in a while, he doesn't get annoyed when they ask about his adventures and is instead very willing to share his stories (if he dresses them up a little who's to blame him). For many of them it stuns them to see Anyone be so casual with their teacher and be left alive after; to see him argue with someone in a way that is actually harmless rather than scathing.

It doesn't help though that noone actually knows When Shen Yuan will ever show up or how long he'll actually stay. It definitely varies, sometimes he'll just be passing through the area on his way to some other cool place, sometimes he stays for a few months in order to teach a couple classes on useful plants and dangerous animals.

Often during his visits, he visits the other peaks too. He talks with Mu Qingfang about about medicinal plants while he's treated for any injuries he has (it's not his fault he's accident prone, and if he fell of that cliff while trying to follow a very cool bird-thing no one needs to know). He has tea with Yue Qingyuan (who met him for the first time and said "our younger brother"); Shen Jiu is decidedly not happy about this but "oh well he'll live"

#svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #shen twins #shen jiu #pushing my stressed older brother shen jiu and walking disaster younger brother shen yuan agenda #l33n1s

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midday-clouds · 2 months ago

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Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 IV

Part I Part II Part III

Wow, can't believe this was just a concept idea and this is part IV XD Part V may be the end but I'm not entirely sure. Don't get your hopes up for a part VI

Also, some of y'all wanted a tag list soo (Did my best but I couldn't @ some of you-)

Tag: @redkarmakai @erikasurfer @szapizzapanda @kore-of-the-underworld @imhere2dosomething @pastel-mouse @cooki3dough @naina326 @peptox @ladylupuscrow @confused-they @megasweetbones @1-800-crazy @lillian-morningstar @butterflycardigann

CW: Mention of past kidnapping, bar fight, blood, "death" and lab testing. Self-harm (Reader testing their ability). Gun shot and injury.

After you finally get Richard Grayson off your windowsill, you can sit down and eat

What makes him think that he can just walk into your life?! And with him being a vigilante, he most definitely could have saved you all that time ago!

To clear your head, you try to remember what happened before you found yourself in your “brother’s” apartment.

You and your friends wanted to go to a bar before college started…….a fight happened….How are your friends?! Did classes start already?!

Opening your group chat with your friends, there are some messages about the bar fight, Red Hood, and how they’d visit you in the hospital

When making your message for the chat, you lie about being discharged from the hospital and ask if classes have already started

Your friends are so kind and update you on everything that has happened since you were in the hospital

The fall semester has begun but you should have an excuse because you were in the hospital

With some help, you were able to email all your professors about your absence and just hope they don’t drop you from the classes

Also hope they don’t ask for any documents from the hospital to confirm that you were there.

After a bit of rambling, you and your friends log off the group chat for the night. You never told them about what actually happened to you or what you found out about Nightwing, Red Hood, etc.

The information is difficult for you to process. Your whole family are famous vigilantes and no one came to save you when you were kidnapped.

And Nightwing, he really was your first friend in Bludhaven and it always hurts to lose someone close

But he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve your attention and time when he abandoned you just like the rest of the family.

You would have been dead if it wasn't for this weird thing that keeps your heart beating!

Maybe it would be a good idea to test this “power” of yours. You’ve died twice now and it seems that it takes a couple of days to heal and regain consciousness

Just for a small test, you make a small cut on your finger and watch it heal right before your eyes. You were hesitant to do these tests at first but this is also fascinating

Another cut is but a little bigger and it takes a little longer to heal.

This continues a few times before you can have an idea of how long it takes for your body to heal itself.

Once you’re done, you decide to go to sleep again and wait until it’s morning

Back at the manor, Tim has been hard at work. Making multiple plans that will end with you coming back home

Some are more intense than others but it can't be helped if you decide to be difficult

Tim has also spent a lot of time researching your “powers”

Back when Dick saved you from that thief, Tim took the knife with your blood on it for research

Some interesting findings can be helpful if all else fails

It’s around noon when you wake up and your professors responded to your emails

They say that you’re allowed to keep your classes but there is a lot of classwork to catch up on

After eating some lunch, you sit down and look over all the work you’ve got to do. That is a lot….

You spend all day struggling and planning how you’ll get help

The next day, you decide to go to class. You go a little early because you knew you’d likely be lost

Luck seems to be on your side because you’re able to find your classroom!

Walking inside, you talk to the professor and they tell you about a project for pairs

Thankfully, you’ve already been assigned a pair so you won’t be alone. You do feel bad about not being here to help though

The professor points you in the direction of your partner and you introduce yourself. The moment your pair looks at you, your mood immediately takes a 180

Why is Tim Drake in your class? Doesn’t he go to a college in Gotham or something?

You pretend to be polite until the professor walks away and you glare at your partner while he just smiles at you

When you sit next to Tim, you try to sit as far away from him but he just moves closer

Before you can argue with him, the professor starts talking about the assignment for the day

You try to do the assignment alone but immediately get lost and you reluctantly accept Tim’s offers to help

Tim’s explanations were quite helpful and you both finished quite quickly. The room is filled with chatter so you take this moment to interrogate your “brother”

He gives vague answers to your questions but is sure to mention that he didn't want to leave his “sibling” by themself

Before you can respond, Tim cuts you off by saying he has something for you

You watch him carefully as he shows you a familiar item

Your phone

You instinctively reach for it but Tim stops you by grabbing your wrist

Glaring at Tim and his smiling face, he says he’ll give your phone back if you’d go back to the manor for at least one night

Tim repositions his hand on your wrist to be your hands intertwined

You try to remove your hand but Tim persists. It isn't until you decline his offer does he put your hand down

You’ve lived a couple of weeks now without your phone so there is no need for it. Plus, you plan to buy a new one later

Tim doesn’t mention the family for the rest of the class

When class is over, you immediately go to the library (Almost got lost) to finish more work

You settle at an empty table near a window and take out your laptop. Of course, it doesn't take long for you to struggle with the assignment and begin feeling annoyed

(Un)Luckly, Tim has found you and offered to help

With his help, you’re able to complete a few assignments before you have another class to go to

Tim invites you to the manor again but you still decline him

You only have two classes today so you hope to get home as soon as possible before running into Tim again

This repeats for a couple of more days

Everyday, you always have Tim in one of your classes

Tim attempts to bribe you to go to the manor with him, with your phone, playing games together, some other stuff you didn’t pay attention to

At least he never bribed you with his help on your classwork. Even after you catch up on old assignments, there are just so many concepts to understand

It’s annoying but Tim has successfully squeezed himself into your life by constantly being around

Something seems to have changed though because you notice Tim has started to leave you alone more

You don’t know why but would rather not question it. He’s a vigilante, right? He probably has some work to defeat a villain or something, you can literally care less about what Tim does

One day, you’re with your friends to participate in an event on campus. There are supposed to be games and free food so why not

Before the event began, there was a speech from the sponsor of the event

The sponsor is a lab group of some kind, promoting the study of life and encouraging new findings. You don’t know what it is but something about them sends a shiver down your spine

When the speech ends, you and your friends play a few games when a person from the sponsor stopped by

You all talk a bit and answer some minor questions before the person goes to a different group of people

At the end of the event, your friends offer to drop you off at home but you decline. You don’t live that far away and you also have pepper spray to keep yourself safe

While walking a person blocks your path. It’s that same sponsor person from the event

They go into more detail about the lab group they’re in, researching life and all

You do your best to remain calm, not showing your disturbance by their sudden presence

That is until they point out how there was a bar fight in the area and a victim went missing

A victim that looks exactly like you, covered in bruises and cuts, bleeding so much that the hospital wouldn’t be able to save them

Yet here you are, in perfect condition

This is when they finally reveal their intentions, wanting to figure out how you escape death

Offering a place in the lab group as a researcher and totally not a test subject

You pretend to consider their offer while carefully taking your pepper spray out of your pocket

It seems the person planned for this because they quickly take out and shoot at your hand holding the pepper spray

Terrified, you immediately make a run for it

You’re filled with so much adrenaline that you can't hear the person shout and the other gunshots that nearly miss you

Running through multiple alleyways, something suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an almost pitch-black area

Things move quickly as an arm wrap around your waist, a whirling sound is suddenly hear above you, your feet leave the ground, and now you’re on a rooftop

You almost collapse once this new random person releases you from their hold

No longer in a dark alley, you can finally see who this new person is

Red Robin

He gives you some time to catch your breath and calm down, putting his grappling gun back on his utility belt

Once your heart rate slows to a normal pace, you’re quick to show your annoyance at seeing the vigilante

Red Robin just seems to smile at you, not showing how your words affect him in any way

When you finally give Red Robin a chance to speak, he goes straight to the point

He admits to leaking some information to that lab group, just wanting you to see how you can live on your own

Even if Red Robin didn’t tell the lab group about your ability, they would have found out eventually

That’s what happened to your mother after all

The vigilante then gives you two options

You can go with the research team and be tested on for the rest of your life or you can have a life back at the manor

Hell, there is a chance that your family of vigilantes can find and save your mother. Allowing you to reunite

As long as you returned home

With your two options, you find yourself back at Dick’s apartment

Dick bandaging up your hand, Jason carrying a box with stuff from your apartment, and Tim contacting Bruce

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batboys #neglected reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere

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pomefioredove · 4 months ago

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housewardens + Jamil and Floyd with a reader that plays volleyball please

I think of reader as yuu, but it's not needed to be specified, and NRC doesn't really have volleyball as one of the sports that I know of. so whether it's not a thing in their world or just not at their school, I think it'd be cool to see how the characters react to the reader playing during gym, free time, or for some outside of school club or whatever. it'd be amazing if reader could be a libero, because that's my position, but it doesn't have to be specified

but like, js imagine reader is yuu and so they taught one of the students how to play bc it's not at NRC amd now they play literally whenever they can

I don't know anything about volleyball but I tried 🫡🫡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ volleyball player reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

am I crazy to think that Riddle would be into it? seeing as he's somewhat of an athlete himself (equestrian club), he knows the sort of discipline and dedication it takes to truly master a sport

he'll offer to help you organize an ~official~ club, but you don't seem too bothered about it. he finds it endearing that you can wake up in an entirely different world, almost die every other month, and still have the motivation to pursue what you love, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd better be careful around Leona, or you'll end up at morning Spelldrive practice in his place (hehe)

so, you don't have any magic. and? you know how to throw and catch, and that's good enough for him. hell, you're better than most of the magical first years. plus, you're motivated, you're responsible, and Leona Savanaclaw could use someone like you around

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Azul sent the tweels to dig up some dirt on you, he wasn't expecting this. like, okay, he underestimated you. he was hoping for something more... exploitable. if only he had a use for volleyball...

oh, well. you're still worth watching, currently useful or not. athletic skill is nothing to sneeze at, especially from a native land-dweller. he might need those legs of yours someday, you know

...wait, that came out wrong

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no one really bothers looking for Floyd when he doesn't show up to basketball club. not because they don't care, but because it's not worth the time. if he really doesn't want to be found, you just won't find him

of course, the one day Jamil has to leave club early, he walks in on the two of you in the courtyard, playing volleyball

all this time, Floyd had been skipping club to watch you play another ball game just a few minutes away. he's absolutely captivated, too. like a cat with a laser pointer

as unamused as he is, Jamil knows it's absolutely useless to lecture him, so he just... sits and watches you play, too

and, well... he gets it. you're an interesting person, you know?

after that, he figures you may as well join the basketball club

...if only to give you a better place to practice, and to keep Floyd indoors

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

bro if you asked, Kalim would have an entire court built for you. actually, you wouldn't even have to ask. just one mention about how NRC has no volleyball club, and he'd have a team just for you by noon

if you refuse, he's still supportive. and really, really fascinated. he's not as much of an athlete as you or Jamil, which just makes it all the more impressive to him. he'll ask you to explain the game and your position over and over again, even while watching you play

he also just likes hearing your voice, so :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if there's anything Vil can admire, it's dedication. another thing? passion. being an athlete, or, really, having any serious hobby, demands both of those things

here's the thing; he could already tell. he didn't have to stumble across you during practice (as if he would stumble at all smh). your form, the way you carry yourself, even parts of your personality were context enough

and while he may not say it, he holds a high opinion of you. you can legit get out of VDC training by just saying you're going to practice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you may think that Idia isn't going to go for the jock type, but, actually, one of his favorite animes is about volleyball and-

yeah, yeah. you get it. he's smitten

if he ever gets over his crushing fear of talking to you, you'll never get him to shut up. seriously. he already knows everything there is to know about the game, but that doesn't mean he's not going to ask you to explain everything all over again (he's totally fangirling over this). and sevens forbid you give him a demonstration...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's probably not volleyball in Briar Valley. right. I just can't picture that. so the first time Malleus observes you in practice, he's amazed, fascinated even. and he has a lot of questions. good ones!

you could probably convince him to play with you, which would be, uh. interesting? actually he's weirdly an amazing player

you could get all of Diasomnia to form a team, somehow. like I know they'd be abnormally good at it

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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saltburnedme · 1 year ago

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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

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crumbledcastle28 · 1 year ago

Text

Joel Miller: Stay Down

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Joel thought he had grown accustomed to fear until he finds you covered in blood.

Excerpt: He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Warnings: stitching of a wound, kissing, blood, blood loss, so much yearning, unestablished relationship, probably incorrect gun talk, Joel is scared of feelings.

A/N: This is me coping with the fact that we do not get more last of us in January. Also partially inspired by my favorite song maybe ever.

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

Joel had found his hands becoming more and more susceptible to the cold as he got older.

They would crack and bleed, flaking dried skin within his decades-old gloves before November had even begun. This not only hurt like hell, but forced him to slow down and think about what he was doing to his body for once in his life. He had a harder time gripping the reins on a horse or fingering the trigger on a shotgun. Noticeably so. And living in a small town with a little brother foaming at the mouth to make old man jokes didn't help matters.

This is what led him to you.

He wouldn't call you a hoarder. Honestly, he would be the first to admit that you were one of the smartest people in Jackson. You had somehow become one of the most materialistically rich people in the town. You consistently managed to find the most randomly useful items on your patrols, things that people before the outbreak would never have even thought to miss.

Things like shoe insoles, ball point pens, Chapstick.

And luckily for him, lotion.

You never charged anyone for taking from what you had. Furthermore, you actively asked people if they needed anything. Even offering to scout around the area in search of specifics. Joel hadn't been around that kind of softness since...

Well, a long time.

This made him uncharacteristically nervous when he first approached your doorstep, but he knocked anyway. He had never in a million years expected to leave that house satisfied in more ways than one.

He blamed it on that stupid crinkle the skin underneath your eyes got whenever you smiled at him. He couldn't help but fall into your light.

This started a... friendship. Of sorts. He would come over when he needed you, and you would happily oblige. As time went on, the visits to yours became more and more frequent, frequent enough that the rest of the town seemed to be catching on. At least, that's what his brother had been hinting at through jabs and side comments.

"You smiled at me the other day, Joel," Tommy had said. "Actually smiled."

Joel responded with a gesture he was hoping Ellie would not pick up anytime soon.

Joel was...happy. Happy with the arrangement. He had a warm body – a fucking gorgeous warm body – to get his energy out with, and the woman inside the body seemingly had no issue with his lack of strings attached.

And yet, for some reason, this annoyed him.

There was some undetectable, bruised part of him that wanted you to…what exactly? Fight him on it? Confess your undying love for him? Pull him back into bed to cuddle?

There had to be either pheromones or crack cocaine in that honeyed floral perfume you always wore. You were beginning to drive him this insane. Unfortunately for him, the place he went when he was beginning to toe that line into insanity was always you.

Joel had checked the schedule posted in the main square, assigning every able-bodied person shifts of patrol. You had a shift earlier in the day, which usually kept you busy until noon. You would then shower, eat, and spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever the hell you wanted.

Overtime, these mental gymnastics became muscle memory to Joel.

He huffed as he lugged his aching legs up your steps, their typical milk white now coated in an ugly muddy brown. Winter had begun, apparent by the puffs of Joel’s own breaths, and the snow in Jackson was trying desperately to keep up.

Joel balled his hands into fists as he planted both feet onto your porch, blowing into them quickly, before knocking three times. Spaced out enough, but not too much. He envisioned you smiling as you heard his signature knock, but cringed at himself internally, burying the thought instantly.

It fluttered back to the surface when he heard the pads of your footsteps somewhere in the house begin but extinguished itself when they dissipated.

He waited a few more seconds, the rational part of his brain saying that you must be in the middle of something, but the man part of his brain imagining you putting on your silky red robe he loved so much, only for him to take it off you so slowly it made his own fingers shake. He breathed in deep, the laundry detergent from his nylon coat mixed with the beginnings of December filling his nose, and cracked his neck while rocking back and forth on his heels.

His eyebrows came together when he heard another rustle, then nothing.

He knocked again.

Still, nothing,

He knew you were in there – he could hear you, clear as day, and he knew you could hear him – but for some reason, you weren’t coming to the door.

His much too weathered mind began to race, thinking of three possible explanations. One, you heard him knocking, and were ignoring him. Two, you somehow were not hearing him knock on the door. Or three, you for some reason were not able to get to the door.

Meaning, there was a possibility you weren’t alone in there, and not by choice.

“Y/N?” he asked loudly. “Y/N, are you in there?”

Nothing. A bit more rustling, maybe a slight groan, but nothing.

Joel’s fingers began to tingle, and it wasn’t from the cold. He knocked again, harder.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” he said loudly, “just…just tell me you’re okay.”

Silence.

He gripped the doorknob and jiggled it, hard enough for the wood to groan underneath his fingertips, but it was locked from the inside. He huffed, knocking again, his hot breaths now clouding his face. He felt an ache in his wrist.

He said your name one more time, hearing the beginnings of a voice he knew better than he should have muffled by the wood, and the door was flat in front of him before he could think twice.

He stomped his way inside, coating the ground with mud and snow, and his eyes darted around the familiar living room. His vision was tunneled, scrounging for the shape of you on the floor, draped over the couch, held at gunpoint. His heart pulsed in his ears.

You weren’t in the living room.

He stomped into the kitchen, the bathroom, the basement, nothing. All that was left was the bedroom.

There was no way in hell you were still asleep.

He practically sprinted to the room, preparing himself. He had seen what men did to women, the remnants of it anyway, and despite his state of denial, he could never in a million years handle the sight of you that way. In your own bed. In your own house. Likely one of your own friends.

He pulled open the door anyway, and was met with gold.

The room was dim except for the lamps you loved so dearly, spreading their warm, glowing, honeyed light across the room in streaks. He blinked his eyes to adjust, focusing in on your body on the bed. You were facing him, skin painted with similar golden streaks, highlighting the tears culminating under your eyes. You were sat crisscrossed, upper body totally bare, back slouched tightly, your body practically folded in on itself. Your right hand was pressed against your left shoulder blade, while your other was filled with wine-colored rags.

Blood-soaked rags.

His eyes met yours quickly, and despite their dampness, they still had that fucking crinkle.

You chuckled, your shoulders dropping up and down quickly as they always do.

“You know,” you said, voice curdled and tired, “if someone doesn’t answer the door, that’s usually them saying ‘leave me the hell alone.”

You chuckled again, this time finishing it off with a wince.

His hand slid slowly from the doorknob as he took a hesitant step towards you, his body tearing itself in half. One side begging to fold your body into him, bubbling you in a cocoon. The other, itching to tear whatever did this to you apart ligament by ligament.

Your eyes slowly drooped from humor to something like shame, like a kicked dog or a broken child, and he stepped forward again.

“Don’t,” you countered weakly. “Just…just don’t.”

You scooted away from him slightly, refusing to look at him, and applied more pressure to whatever was expelling that much blood from your shoulder. Pain was suddenly present in your face.

“You want me to leave?” he quickly countered.

You said nothing.

He walked to you, removing the hand you had pressed against your wound, and sucked in a quick breath.

“Probably the first time you’ve seen a revolver bullet in about twenty years, huh Joel?” you asked, chuckling once more.

He barely heard you.

You had gotten the bullet out, but it had sunken in deep. The skin around it was red and welting, so swollen that Joel had to guess you had already been working on it for at least an hour. He winced, imagining what kind of pain you were in, and the fact that you were dealing with it all yourself.

He swallowed grimly.

“Hand me that rag,” he said. He could tell how little strength you had left to fight him by how quickly the rag flopped into his hand.

He pressed it to the wound, and you hissed.

“Fuck Joel,” you whined, squeezing the covers of your bed so tightly your knuckles went white. He held his pressure, forcing himself to think straight.

He might as well have been feeling the pain in his own shoulder.

He finally eased his pressure, wiping away as much blood from the area as he could.

“You cleaned it pretty well,” he said softly, voice thick in his throat, so thick it was hard to speak. “But…it’s gonna need a stich or two.”

“Or seven,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit sat in the middle of the bed. You opened the bag with shaking hands, taking out the needle and thread. You attempted to begin threading the needle, but with your hands quaking so fiercely you only produced frustrated grunts and sighs. He moved to the front of the bed, the front of his body facing yours, and took the needle and thread from your hands, setting them to the side. He then held your hands in his, squeezing them slightly, before using one to tilt your chin up at him.

He sighed at the storm in your eyes.

“What happened?”

“Did you kick my fucking door down?”

“What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened.”

He sighed again. “You’ve never once been stupid.”

“Today I was.”

“How?”

“It’s how I always am.” Your voice cracked. “Thought I could pick some apples for Mrs. Lawrence down the street. She always talks about how much she loved that as a kid – a freshly picked apple. Went out too far. Felt a sudden burning in my shoulder and ended up having to take out six hunters all by myself. Six.”

A single tear dripped from your left eye, the gold from the lamps turning it to sunlight.

“I could’ve died. All for a fucking apple.”

You turned away from him again, and it took everything in him not to cup your face in his hands and turn you back to him. He had never seen you like this before. So… raw. Beaten. Trampled. Doused in self-hatred. He hated it.

And yet, he didn’t want to look away. He was slowly realizing that this was the part of you he had been desperate to see. Truth. Undercarriage. Weakness.

Human.

He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Slowly, gentler than he ever had in his life, he brought his mouth to your cheekbone. You exhaled a prolonged breath, the heat of it cascading down the left side of his neck. It only prompted him to kiss you more, and more, and more. His lips traveling up into your hairline, across your forehead, down your nose, and finally onto your lips. His kiss there was tongueless, rather a soft press, and yet it meant more to him than any other one you had ever shared.

He could tell by your breathing that you agreed.

He pressed his forehead against yours, swallowing thickly. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know…I don’t know what I would do if you did.”

Your stormy eyes turned into a sunrise, and Joel straightened his aching back to slowly remove his coat and boots. He placed them on the floor beside your bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. You watched him just the same, mouth propped open slightly.

He smirked as he set his things down. He then picked up the needle and thread while using his free hand to frame your face.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, his thumb stroking your chin. “I promise.”

You nodded. “I know you will.”

His lips wanted to meet yours so badly it hurt, but he needed to stitch you. Quickly. For a wound as deep as the one you had, it should have been closed up hours ago.

He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t.

He walked to the edge of the bed and turned you around, leaning you into him slightly to give your pretzeled back some support, and began.

You were surprisingly unreactive when he first inserted the needle, taking it as delicately as he possibly could. It wasn’t until he began to tug the skin together that your body showed signs of pain.

“You’re going too slow,” you mumbled softly after he finished the second stitch. “Please go faster.”

His hands began to shake at your request. He didn’t blame you. Speed would make it hurt worse, but be over with quicker. He squeezed the top of your shoulder in response, threading the needle quickly and stitching over the center of the wound.

You let out a high-pitched whine, gripping onto the comforter at your side, and he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your neck.

He let your breathing steady, then stitched again, this time kissing your shoulder blade.

Another stitch, a kiss across your shoulders.

Another stitch, a kiss down your spine.

Another stitch, a kiss on your lower back.

After every stitch, he planted one. Something in him couldn’t help it.

He made his final stitch and cut the thread quickly, sealing it with a kiss on the side of your face. He tasted a mix of salty tears and heat from your skin. He watched your throat bobble as he moved away, finishing off the wound with a final cleaning. Alcohol and blood filled the air, along with undertones of sweat.

He had a feeling that last aroma came mostly from him.

He threw the needle and thread away into the small garbage can you kept near your bed before turning back to face you. You rested on the balls of your palms, leaning back to look at him as he walked back towards you. There was pain visible behind your eyes, he could see it, but they were coated in something else. Something somehow rawer than before.

“You should rest now,” he said, scruff evident in his voice from lack of use. He cleared it quickly. “You took a hell of a hit.”

You didn’t move. Joel moved to the first aid kit still sitting in the middle of the bed and used the (what had to be decades old) wet wipes on his hands. He tossed those as well, but you still hadn’t moved.

“There somethin’ on my face?”

You cracked a small smile. “Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly.

He hummed. “Don’t mention it.” He then leaned forward and scooped your body into his arms. You involuntarily rested against him, eyes fluttering already, but he set you down beneath your sheets and swiftly pulled them over you.

He laughed at your fight against your own exhaustion, pushing stray hairs away from your forehead. He pulled away from you, beginning to walk out of the room. A fierce grip pulled him backwards.

“Stay,” you mumbled weakly. “Please stay.”

He inhaled deeply. The sweet cocktail of your voice mixed with those words fucking inebriating him, so much so he was surprised he was still standing up straight. He felt physically winded.

He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back. Stay down.”

You smiled, loosening your grip, letting your hand fall back into the bed.

Joel walked quietly out of the room but would be the last to admit how he practically sprinted to your kitchen and scoured your cabinets like a man being chased. He found your pain meds, pouring two into his hand, and filling up a small glass of water. He gave a slow, silent jog back to your room.

He felt equally as winded when he caught the view of the setting sun between your windows, glazing over you like a statue in Rome he had once seen on a traveling magazine. The streaks of leftover tears were highlighted in the light, as well as a small crease in your brow.

That is what told him you were not quite yet out cold.

He brought the meds and water to you, tucking your hair behind your ear to alert you of his presence. You opened your eyes and practically inhaled the medicine before laying back down on your side.

Joel removed his shirt in a blink and tucked himself in behind you, ensuring your stitches were not firmly pressed against him, but pressed just enough to ease soreness. You curved into him perfectly, as he did to you. He wrapped his arm around your frame, taking your hands in his and massaging them gently.

You hummed. “Promise you’ll stay?”

He knew your voice like that better than any man in the world.

He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder. “I’m stayin.’”

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dykelizard · 23 days ago

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jayvik headcanon masterlist

jayce goes to bed super late and wakes up super early, while viktor either doesn’t sleep at all or literally sleeps until noon.

jayce sleeps like a baby once he’s actually down, and has like eight alarms set to get himself up in the morning. he snores like a foghorn too. viktor is a very light sleeper because of his childhood, and will wake up at the tiniest sound. he moves around a lot while he sleeps, and he tends to wake up with a lot more back pain than usual because of it.

in the early days of their partnership they would work nonstop for multiple days and end up totally losing their minds while running on no sleep and a fuck ton of HexCaffeine. heimerdinger would walk in on them giggling uncontrollably and egging each other on to blow stuff up at like 4 in the morning.

caitlyn once sent them to the grocery store together for literally two things and viktor accidentally left jayce behind and jayce panicked when he realized viktor was gone and knocked over five displays and a shelf. they somehow came back with the wrong items.

jayce is rly good at cooking (his mama taught him) and he cooks for viktor to get him to eat when he’s too immersed in his work in the lab. viktor is TERRIBLE at it. he approaches it like an experiment and something always ends up getting set on fire. one time vik tried to make soup for jayce while he was sick and he somehow set it on fire and showed up to jayce’s apartment completely covered in soot with a pot of burnt soup and singed hair.

zaunites having developed that thing that nocturnal animals have where it’s that reflective sheen in their eyes when it’s dark because of how little natural light the undercity gets, and jayce getting the shit scared out of him by viktor because they pulled an all nighter in the lab and jayce wakes up in the middle of the night because he hears a clatter and he looks up while half asleep to see viktor rummaging around for a part and vik turns to stare at him and his eyes are just fucking GLOWING. jayce almost cries.

jayce gets really loopy when he’s sleep deprived. like he’ll just be so out of it and start suggesting the most nonsensical stuff and start building, like, hex-blenders. viktor thinks it’s hilarious, and always helps him. meanwhile, viktor just LOCKS TF IN when he’s sleep deprived. he’ll completely forget that other people are even in the room, and also that he has to eat food, or drink water, or blink. he gets very grumpy when distracted from his work by anyone other than jayce, and will not hesitate to smack people with his cane.

both of them hate the winter equally, jayce because of ptsd and viktor because he’s disabled, and they will literally just sequester themselves away and hide in the lab with a space heater the entire time. they have sky bring them food a couple times a week and they just hunker down there to avoid having to go outside.

viktor almost froze to death on the streets of zaun when he was a kid, and jayce sobbed for an hour when he first told him.

when they were first starting out, viktor used to accompany jayce to those fancy piltie parties where they tried to schmooze for investors, but whenever people tried to touch jayce or pull him away without asking or flirt with him to the point where it visibly made him uncomfortable, viktor would get really pissed off and protective and he would end up “accidentally” tripping like half the people they talked to with his cane. jayce secretly loved it and got really sad when viktor stopped coming.

jayce is a cat person, and always feeds the feral cats around the lab. secretly, they remind him of viktor. viktor calls them dirty strays and says that he hates how jayce encourages them, but jayce has caught him cooing to them before.

viktor loves dogs, and has wanted a pet ever since rio, but he worries that he wouldn’t be able to take care of it properly because of how much he works and with how often his illness puts him out of commission. at least now he has jayce.

they both have a twelve year old’s sense of humor, and they LOVE pranks. heimerdinger ended up having to ban all production of (patented) HexSilly-String, HexPaint, and the HexWhoopee-Cushion.

viktor throws up when he gets nervous. jayce is scared of vomit, but he always rubs his back and helps him get cleaned up whenever it happens.

they had a lot of trouble while interacting in the first year because jayce is very tactile and expressive with his emotions, and viktor tends to be more reserved. jayce thought that viktor didn’t like him, and viktor thought jayce was pitying him. eventually, they worked it out.

when jayce found out how few places actually had accessible entrances, he immediately went to the kirammans and petitioned to the council about implementing more disabled-friendly locations in the city. viktor still doesn’t know it was jayce who got accessibility ramps installed in all the university buildings.

jayce fidgets with his hands a lot, and he’s almost always idly putting together tiny gadgets or fiddling with gears. he gives a lot of the small contraptions he makes to viktor, who keeps them all on a shelf in his apartment.

jayce is a total lightweight. he always tries to make himself drink beer because it’s more masculine, but he actually loves fruity cocktails. viktor can handle his alcohol like a 300-pound pit fighter—that is to say, he can take 6 shots of gin in a row and still only be a little tipsy.

whenever there’s a spider in their lab, viktor always tries to kill it immediately but jayce makes him take it outside and set it free.

jayce loves kids so much. he really likes seeing what they think of hextech, and always asks what they would change about it and nods very seriously while taking actual notes. viktor doesn’t really know how to interact with them, so he either freezes up and awkwardly sidles away, or talks to them like a scientific colleague in hopes that it’ll bore them enough that they leave.

jayce gets panic attacks whenever it snows, and viktor talks him through them.

viktor won’t accept if jayce tries to give him food directly, so he just leaves it out while they’re working and waits for viktor to meander over and eat it on his own terms. or, if it’s homemade, jayce will make big sad puppy dog eyes and go “but i made it…” until viktor gives in.

viktor thinks his laugh is ugly, and jayce thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

viktor rants in czech when he’s pissed off and jayce complains about people he hates in spanish.

jayce cant hold a poker face to save his life but lies really well. viktor has the best poker face known to man but is somehow unable to lie.

viktor is completely stone-faced while thinking about fucking jayce over the lab table and jayce is turning bright red while thinking about holding hands.

viktor whacks jayce with his cane when he’s being an idiot. jayce has accepted it.

they’re both very protective over the other, and they both don’t want to let themselves be protected.

jayce is terrible at personal space, and always leans way in over viktor’s shoulder when he’s showing him something. viktor had no idea how to react at first and would just starts internally combusting, but he’s gotten used to it.

jayce is actually really strong because of all the forge work. one time he lifted viktor up while trying to move him out of the way of an explosion in the lab. viktor has never forgotten about it.

jayce yaps 24/7 about science and magic and whatever happened to him that day and just literally everything, and viktor always listens to everything he says very intently.

jayce thought viktor’s machine herald voice was SO HOT but will never ever tell him.

after so many years of spending every minute together, they eventually just kinda stop having any boundaries. they pretty much know everything about each other.

jayce knows how he’s perceived as a dumb prettyboy and hates it. viktor always makes sure to remind him of how smart he is.

jayce was scared while he was dying because he didn’t think he’d done enough yet and viktor was at peace while he was dying because he thought he deserved it.

their periods sync up.

viktor always steals food from jayce and claims it tastes better that way. jayce started leaving food out intentionally to get viktor to eat more.

jayce is just as bad as viktor when it comes to feeding himself consistently, and viktor constantly calls him out for being a hypocrite

viktor tries to make jayce feel cared for as best he can. jayce never brings it up, but it means the world to him.

viktor expresses his affection in smaller ways. jayce shows his affection with bigger gestures.

jayce’s favorite comfort food is the birria that his mom makes. viktor has tried multiple times to recreate it, but keeps setting it on fire. viktor’s favorite comfort food is halušky from a street stand in the lanes. jayce learns to make it for him when he gets pneumonia during the second year of their partnership.

jayce was the pickiest eater when he was little but now he’ll eat anything. viktor would eat anything he could get as a kid but got more particular about it as he got older.

they would both rather sleep at the lab than at home. they rest better knowing that the other is there with them.

jayce calls viktor sweet nicknames in spanish and viktor calls jayce an idiot in czech.

they both tend to revert back to their native languages when overly tired. sometimes sky will walk in and they’re arguing with each other in completely different languages and yet somehow understand everything the other is saying.

viktor loves telling jayce what to do. jayce lives to to please viktor.

jayce goes into the undercity to get materials for their work on hextech. viktor insists on going with him to save him from getting scammed again.

jayce gives viktor the biggest hugs whenever they have a breakthrough on a new piece of hextech. viktor begrudgingly indulges him by hugging back.

viktor loves bad slashers and jayce loves black and white detective films. they both love cheesy sci-fi movies and usually watch them together.

viktor fell asleep on jayce’s shoulder once and jayce didn’t move for the entire duration of viktor’s nap

jayce smells like metal, three day old cologne, and smoke from the forge. viktor smells like sweat, chalk dust, and the oil he uses to polish his brace.

viktor hates when people treat him like glass because of his disability. jayce never holds back when it comes to being physical with viktor.

jayce trusts too easily and he thinks viktor is too much of a cynic sometimes. viktor trusts very sparingly, and he thinks jayce is too naive sometimes.

jayce has a lot of trouble adjusting to living with a disability and gets frustrated with his leg very easily. viktor teaches jayce the least painful ways to maneuver with a brace and never blames or pities him for needing help.

jayce designed and made viktor a new cane after his old one got broken during their first day together. viktor refused to take it until jayce said it was a memento to commemorate their new partnership. jayce modifies it any time viktor’s mobility changes.

jayce clears out the lab and brings viktor warm sweetmilk whenever he has a low spoons day and doesn’t have the energy to deal with other people in his space. viktor appreciates it more than he can express with words.

jayce likes lo-fi jazz and viktor prefers classical music. they will never not fight over who gets radio privileges in the lab and had to come up with a system where they switch off depending on the day.

jayce cries over everything and viktor almost never cries.

jayce thought about going back to the ledge at his old apartment after viktor left him. viktor would’ve never forgiven himself if he knew.

jayce never stopped thinking about viktor when he was stuck in the pit. viktor couldn’t help feeling like something was missing the whole time he was at the commune.

jayce sleeps splayed out like a starfish. viktor sleeps curled into a little ball.

jayce was forced by his mother to take ballroom dancing lessons when he was younger and he tries to convince viktor to let him teach him. viktor would rather eat hot coals than learn how to “fancy dance” and teaches jayce a traditional zaunite folk dance instead.

jayce is really good at following directions and almost never gets lost. even if he does somehow end up losing his way, he would rather die than ask somebody for directions. viktor has the layout of the undercity completely memorized, but somehow gets lost every five seconds in piltover. stubbornly refuses to ask for directions.

jayce has a burn scar on his left foot from when he was twelve and tried working in the forge for the first time. he dropped a scorching hot hammer and it burned a hole through his shoe. viktor is missing the tip of his right pinky because he accidentally sliced it off with a sheet of corrugated scrap metal when he was seventeen.

jayce accidentally elbowed viktor in the face once while gesturing about something and apologized profusely for almost twenty minutes. viktor laughed himself into a coughing fit over it.

jayce never feels like he has to fake being happy around viktor. viktor never feels like he has to make himself seem okay around jayce.

jayce loves to knit even though he’s terrible at it. he claims it hones his hand-eye coordination. he makes the worlds ugliest sweater for viktor’s birthday one year and viktor doesn’t take it off for a solid three days. viktor loves reading crappy science fiction pulp novels. sometimes he reads them out loud to jayce and they make fun of how inaccurate they are.

viktor has a green thumb, but he always forgets to go home to water his plants so they end up dying anyways. jayce tries so, so hard to keep plants alive, both in the lab and at his apartment, but literally everything that he touches wilts. he cries every time he kills a plant.

jayce would play the trumpet. viktor would play the piano.

they find REALLY dumb ways to entertain themselves in the lab. many an innocent egg has been fried by a hexclaw laser and a couple of scientific geniuses (dumbasses) with too much free time.

viktor falls asleep in the lab during the day and jayce falls asleep in the lab at night.

jayce loves viktor’s moles. viktor loves jayce’s crooked teeth.

viktor has the biggest sweet tooth known to man. jayce prefers more savory flavors.

viktor cannot handle spice for the life of him. one bite of jayce’s chilate de pollo and he starts dying coughing and turning bright red. jayce LOVES spicy food but learned the hard way to start making viktor’s portion way blander than everything else.

jayce tries to lean backwards in his chair to seem cool and falls on his ass 9/10 times. viktor laughs at him whenever it happens.

jayce cracks his knuckles really loudly when he gets nervous. viktor hated it at first, but eventually started taking it as a sign that jayce needs reassurance.

there are two non hextech-explosion related holes in their lab. one is because jayce was dramatically banging his head against the wall when they were stuck on a project and he somehow managed to put his freakishly hard skull through it. the other is because one time viktor tried to turn a timer off with his cane while wildly sleep deprived, and not only did he miss, but he also accidentally cracked the drywall.

viktor always wears mismatched socks because he thinks it’s a waste of time to find matching ones when nobody is going to see them anyways. jayce balls his socks up in pairs so that he doesn’t accidentally wear non-matching ones.

jayce is a people-pleaser because he’s scared of rejection. viktor refuses to suck up to people for their own comfort because of how accustomed to rejection he’s become throughout the course of his life.

jayce uses half of his “scientific journals” as glorified diaries with a whole lot of detail. viktor loves snooping and reading what jayce writes over his shoulder. he thinks it’s cute when he immediately blushes and tries to cover it up.

viktor has a terrible short-term memory but a really good long-term memory. jayce has an awful long-term memory but a great short-term memory.

jayce has broken his nose by booking it full speed into a glass door. viktor has broken his nose by tripping over his own cane and absolutely whiffing it face-first.

jayce is very clingy while drunk, and gets really sad whenever viktor tries to extricate himself from his octopus grip. viktor gets super giggly when he’s drunk, and bursts out laughing at literally everything, even if it’s not funny. whenever they’ve been drinking heavily together they just have to stumble home with jayce clinging to viktor like a limpet and viktor laughing every time they trip on a loose rock.

jayce likes giving stuff that he makes to viktor, like a new cane or a vik-safe toaster. viktor likes giving stuff that he finds to jayce, like pretty rocks or a cool looking gear.

jayce hates being the butt of the joke, but will always pretend to laugh along. viktor notices when he’s fake-laughing, and will immediately try and change the subject.

they’ve both memorized the sound of the other’s footsteps.

one time jayce got ants in his apartment from leaving food out too often and he slept in the lab for a solid two weeks until he was sure they were gone. viktor stayed in the lab with him out of solidarity, and they shared the sofa-bed.

viktor hasn’t gotten top surgery, and doesn’t really tend to get chest dysphoria. jayce has gotten top surgery, but his pecs are still larger than average.

their mario kart games get INSANE. jayce mains donkey kong and viktor mains dry bones. one time jayce convinced mel to play with them and she kicked their asses so bad that they both couldn’t face her for a week.

jayce likes fried eggs over-easy and viktor likes scrambled egg whites.

jayce has huge violent dad sneezes that sound like an exploding airhorn. viktor has tiny dainty kitten sneezes that sound like tinkling bells.

both of them are incredibly fucking stubborn.

jayce apologizes first after an argument. viktor tends to apologize with his actions rather than his words.

jayce will do this thing where he shoots awake in the middle of the night at the lab and turn to a wide-eyed viktor just to whisper the most incomprehensible gibberish known to man, then collapse back onto the desk and immediately start snoring. he wakes up in the morning and asks viktor if he wrote down the “genius idea” that he thought of last night and viktor smacks him with his cane.

jayce is ticklish EVERYWHERE. he lives in fear of viktor finding out. viktor already knows and is planning on exploiting it when jayce is least expecting it.

jayce has tiny freckles on his nose and viktor counts them when he thinks jayce isn’t looking.

jayce had to bail viktor out of jail once after he had too way much to drink and tried to fight an enforcer. viktor didn’t regret it for even a second.

jayce tells the most awful dad jokes whenever the lab gets really quiet. viktor tries to hide it, but he laughs every time.

viktor tried to give jayce a haircut once and jayce wore a hat for a solid two weeks afterwards.

jayce has the worlds longest skincare routine with like eighteen steps. viktor washes his face with dish soap and calls it a day.

jayce only swears occasionally, but when he does, you know that shit is getting SERIOUS. viktor swears like a sailor, but most of it is in czech so nobody can tell.

jayce gets loud when he’s angry and viktor gets very quiet when he’s angry.

jayce is super vocal in bed but can never actually say what he wants. viktor loves how easy it is to overwhelm him, and always talks him through it.

jayce wishes it was him who had been killed in the council attack. viktor only remembers being grateful that he was the one who took the brunt of the explosion, and not jayce.

#long post #i have SO MANY of these.#like it’s becoming a problem.#this will probably get reblogged with more additions at some point #arcane #jayvik #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #jayce talis #viktor #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce x viktor #jayvik headcanons #headcanons #arcane headcanons

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thanosscross · 4 days ago

Text

Baby - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part 3 Smut

Summary: After months of being together, everytime you sleep together it feels just like the first time still, but Seung Hyun throws a twist in this time

Warnings: Smut, lots of smut

Seven and a half months, that's how long it had been since Seong Hyun asked you to be his girlfriend, and while you were both reserved in public, you didn't hold back in the bedroom, as more time passed though, the more you learned about your lover, that in reality, the big ego, cocky, outgoing Seung Hyun was just for show, in reality, your boyfriend was basically a big teddy bear, one of the first males you met that was actually in touch with his feelings and fears, and wasn't afraid to admit it. He was your everything at the moment, you both came dependent on each other while still keeping to your independent natures, you could go days without seeing each other, but neither of you would really sleep well or truly relax until you were together again.

"Seung hyun" You whined, desperately trying to wake him up, it was a Saturday, meaning you both had the day free of any responsibilities, and while you had planned a day with your boyfriend, it seemed he had other plans of sleeping all morning. You couldn't lie though, he looked adorable laying curled up under his fluffy comforter, not to mention relaxed and peaceful, sighing you just climbed out of bed in defeat "Fine, I'll be back at noon" You threatened kissing his forehead gently, he just turned away tiredly, pulling the stuffed animal he had used as a pillow with him. You rolled your eyes giggling to yourself as you made your way out of the room looking around for anybody who was awake. "Bo-mi!" You heard the boys shouting in chorus, you just raised your eyebrows at them in confusion "Oh! y/n! We thought you were Seung hyun" Dae-Sung apologized sheepishly, blushing softly "You're fine, you guys are pretty too" You offered with a smile before making your way to the kitchen to get your morning (coffee or tea, just your choice of morning drink). Walking back with the mug, you sat next to Ji-yong glancing at the game they were playing on the tv.

You ended up playing with them for a good two hours before you all just ended up talking, it started out sweet, them complimenting you on how much you've changed Seung Hyun to where he's been a little more outgoing with things, you complimenting them on how hard they've been working lately, until they started interrogating you. "We never you see you anymore!" Ji-yong groaned "Seung Hyun stole you!" Dae-sung added, you laughed loudly hiding your face in your blanket you had wrapped around your body "He's my boyfriend!" You giggled loudly before looking towards him again "We miss you!" Tae-yung agreed crossing his arms "I miss you guys! But I practically live here! I'm right down the hall" You giggled, you could feel your face heating up as they continued "Don't think we can't hear what's happening in there! Oooo Seung hyun!" Ji-Yong teased mocking your words from the other night, whenever you thought you both were alone.

You squealed hiding your face again "Leave me alone! We're literally together! and adults!" You argued giggling loudly before looking to them "You all wouldn't understand, you're children" You giggled, they gasped at your comment before jumping and screaming out whenever they heard your boyfriend cough from the hallway "If I remember right it was, yesss, seung hyun" He stated making his way tiredly to you "You said you'd be back at noon" He frowned, you smiled at him, trying to hide the fact you were extremely flustered by the others knowledge of what exactly you sound like during sex. "Sorry, the boys are upset they don't see me as much" You giggled, Seung Hyun taking his rightful spot next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you tightly "They live with you?" He questioned before catching on laughing "Oh my!...you know..you guys are more than welcome to invite her to game or hangout, you just don't" He chuckled, you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder, only now realizing he had no shirt on, Not wanting to put him on the spot about his new found confidence you just smiled even wider hugging him "Not whenever you steal her!" Dae-sung whined, Seung Hyun just smirked "What you mean like this?" He asked before scooping you up with ease rushing to your bedroom, you screamed holding onto him tightly, not liking the fact he was running around corners with you in his arms.

As you got back into your room he smirked at you "Oh god, what do you want, my love?" You asked resting your hands on the base of his neck, admiring his eyes as he slowly lowered you down to your feet "You look really good in my clothes" He whispered stepping closer to you "You look really good with no shirt" You complimented, your words brought a bright pink hue to his cheeks as he blushed "You had my shirt" He protested shyly, you just shook your head giggling kissing him softly, Seung Hyun had other thoughts, taking the back of your neck in his hand as he pressed his lips against yours needier and rougher than you did. You just placed your hands in his hair, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer to him if possible. "What has gotten into you?" You teased as he pushed you down onto the bed "You have changed me" He growled against your neck, you tilted your head to the side allowing him more access as he continued "I feel..more myself with you, you let me live my life while still being a big part of it, you know just what to say, you're perfect" He whispered, you just now realizing his lips were pressed against your jaw "You're so sweet, but I didn't change anything, you did that, Seung Hyun" You smiled, moaning softly whenever he started to leave a trail of hickeys across your neck "See? Just what to say" He smirked against your skin, before pulling away to make eye contact with you "I love you" He said, causing you to stare at him in shock, you watched the emotions run over his face "I love you too" You finally found yourself saying looking into his dark eyes, his smirk returned before you pressed your lips to his.

Gasping as Seung Hyun lined himself up with your entrance, you glanced up to look at him, his eyes were trained between the two of you, more concerned about getting everything right so he didn't hurt you. You slowly raised a hand to his cheek, tilting his head slightly to look at you "You're okay" You smiled, nodding a bit before leaning up kissing him deeply, Seung Hyun took that as his sign to ahead, pushing his dick fully in, bottoming out before he brought his hands to your face, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you deeply.

It didn't matter how many times you guys fucked each other, it would always take you both by surprise, Seung Hyun groaned quietly panting against your lips as he slowly started thrust his hips, You weren't doing much better to compose yourself, running your nails down his back and chest, trying your best to stifle your moans so your eavesdropping roommates wouldn't hear. "gongjunim, baby, easy" He groaned against your lips, it wasn't that it hurt him, he just didn't want to cum this early, not only would it be embarrassing, but he also wanted to savor the feeling before he had a whole new week of writing and recording. You turned your hands from his back to his hands, which he quickly used the advantage to pin them above your head, interlacing your fingers together as the speed of his hips thrusting increased, you whimpered loudly wrapping your legs around his hips, his hand finding it's way to your clit, rubbing a mixture of circles and figure eights against it, pulling away from your lips, he leaned back, getting a full view of you underneath him.

Feeling conscious of everything on your body settled over you as you noticed Seung Hyun's staring, you bit your lip, looking away from his gaze "Baby..look at me" He whispered, resting his free hand on your stomach as his thrusts slowed, whimpering as his dick basically slammed in and out of you. Slowly you looked over to meet his gaze "You're breathtaking my love, just like the most beautiful waterfalls, the most expelling art piece, just like the beauty of true unfiltered pure art, and it's all mine" He whispered, you wanted to giggle, even as he basically taking away your ability to properly walk for the next day, he still finds a way to be as charming as possible. "I love you Seung Hyun" You giggled, pulling him closer to press your lips against his hungrily, between his fingers on your clit and him inside of you, you were desperate to cum, but his speed was like a constantly tease, bringing you to the edge before ripping it away. "Fucking Please Seung Hyun" You moaned, growing frustrated with his teasing antics you threw your head back "Huh?" He teased, smirking, you rolled your eyes, of course, you had done it once before, as a joke, and of course he wanted you to do it again. "I'm not doing that" You giggled "Please just actually fuck me, baby" You asked, purposely pitching your voice lower with a slight seductive tone, Seung Hyun squeezed your hip tightly, not liking the reaction his body had to your voice. He just persisted, only now his lips were attached to your nipple, swirling his tongue to match the movements of his fingers on your clit, you whined loudly, cheeks growing hot with a blush, of course he had to think one of your cringiest jokes was hot.

"Please fuck me, Top, I swear I know all the words to your songs, you're so fucking hot- God damnit please!" You whined, your tone going from annoyed to just frustrated, he just seemed to find enjoyment in your neediness and frustration. "I guess" He smirked against your skin, pulling his lips off with a pop, replacing them with his hand that wasn't between your legs. "Just remember, whenever your legs hurt later, you wanted it this badly" He teased before moving his hips at a pace you swear you had never felt before, you couldn't stop the moan that was pulled from your lips as you arched your back, his fingers increasing their speed on your clit as well. You ran your hands down his back, feeling it arch under your touch, you whimpered as he groaned against your collarbone, trying to stay mindful of the headboard not smacking against the wall.

As you got closer to your orgasm you felt Seung Hyun move your legs slightly higher on his waist, his hand going right back to your nipples after words "I'm not cumming until you do, Gongjunim" He grunted, you just squeezed his shoulders tightly in reply, knowing if he kept up with the abuse on your clit you'd definitely fall apart soon. Before Seung Hyun could say anything else you pulled his lips to yours, desperate to try and muffle your moans any ways you could, your legs squeezing tightly around his waist as your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter if possible. Seung Hyun moaned himself for the first time with you, tilting his head down as he dropped to his elbow propping him up "That's it baby, use me for anything you need" He whispered leaving a final hickey right above your left nipple, you whimpered loudly as you came around him, Seung Hyun waited a moment to catch his breath before grabbing your hips, groaning, still in love with the fact your hips fit perfectly in his hands. You bit your lip looking up at him, this time as he looked between the two of you, he had a different look in his eyes, he bit his lip as he started his pace again, this time alot more sloppy, he felt like he was about to explode, somehow harder than he had been in months, and the way you felt around him wasn't helping the situation, the closer he got to cumming, the worse it got. Noticing his pace starting to falter, you placed a hand on his chest pushing slightly to roll the both of you, positioning yourself to straddle him, you started to roll your hips against his. His grip on your hips tightened as his head fell back "Fuck, please don't stop, baby" He begged, his tone pitched slightly higher "Why would I stop, my love? You look fucking amazing like this" You asked pressing soft butterfly kisses down his jawline and neck, leaving hickeys as soon as you got to his collarbone, knowing that they needed to be hidden in order for him not to be in trouble.

Seung Hyun never realized how hot it'd be to have you on top, especially while having you try to boost his confidence, but here you were and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his cock even harder if possible. "Fuck! Fuck! Baby I'm so close" He groaned sitting up to bring your lips to his for a very sloppy kiss, a mixture of tongue and teeth connecting as you copied your previous movement, squealing as he dug his nails into your hips, holding them where they were, his hips lifting up to meet yours as he started to cum, you kissed him deeper as you felt the warm liquid spill into you. After a few minutes, Seung Hyun slowly shifted to lay you onto the bed and pull out of you, much to your dismay, you let him, not without giving him one last short kiss. "I swear..everytime is like the first time" He panted as he hid his face in the curve of your neck, you trailed your nails over the back of his hairline and down his neck, feeling him slowly catch his breath, you couldn't shake the thought you had the entire time Seung Hyun said I love you. "Baby?..are you okay?" His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts "I'm amazing..trust me..but..did you mean what you said?.." You asked nervously, now twisting his messy hair in-between your fingers "That I love you?" He asked, almost like he could read your mind, you just hummed in agreement "Of course I meant it, I wouldn't ever say something to you that I don't mean" He said, leaning away to be able to look you in the eyes "I love you, Y/n, You make me feel like a good..happy person" He smiled softly, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead "I love you too, then" You smiled, before starting to sit up "Shower with me?" You offered, he just smirked standing up offering his hand out to you, taking a moment to admire how truly amazing he looked naked. "Oh Y/nnn.." He called out in a teasing tone "You like?" He smirked turning to face you to pull you up out of bed "I very very much like, sir" You replied, placing your hands on his chest as you walked him backwards into the bathroom.

You like? No seriously though, I tried my best but everything today kept snapping me out of the zone, so I apologize it's not my usual smutty work

#t.o.p x reader #thanos x reader #choi seunghyun #choi su bong x reader #squid game thanos #top x reader #thanos x reader smut #squidgame #thanos squid game #squid game

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slaytheusurper · 3 months ago

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⭑ Separate Worlds, Chapter One ⭑

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Michael Gavey x Popular!rich!reader

A/N: It took a while as I wanted to write some chapters ahead but the first part of my first longer fanfiction is here! Please give me feedback I need to know if it's any good :)

Summary: Living two completely separate lives you and Michael had never really crossed paths and you’ve never really looked at him before. But when your worlds collide, affections arise.

Word count: 1.8k

Wednesday, October 12th 2006

The sound of rain hitting your thin single paned window woke you from your usual noon nap. Waking up with a groan, you checked your watch. A beautiful watch from Cartier, one you’ve always wanted. Another gift from your beloved father, who would rather send you gifts to apologise than actually say the words. He would once again miss your birthday, this year he would fly to Turkey, for a 'very important business trip'.

You didn’t even care where the fucker would run away to this time, he’d do anything to get away from your mum, and from your family. Anytime you would meet someone and tell them your name they’d immediately perk up, your family was quite an old one and when the first cars were invented your ancestor was there, right with Benz himself. In current day your father ran the family company, manufacturing and transporting cars all over the world, and soon your brother would join him.

You never had much of a thing for cars, but luckily for you your older brother did. He wasn’t going to be there either though. He was accepted into Harvard, and was currently studying abroad in America. A loud knock fully awakened you and you rose from your bed, you were so tired you didn’t even change into comfier clothes, you just napped in your cute fall outfit of the day instead.

Opening the door, Farleigh almost immediately bursted into your room. He seemed angry, but he usually was. You met him in your first year, of course upon hearing your name called on in a lecture, he partnered up with you after class. So your first project was with him, he was nice enough but sometimes he could be really annoying and above himself.

You took a deep breath as Farleigh made himself comfortable in your bed, you did not have the energy to tell him to sit on the couch instead so you silently joined him, waiting for him to start his rant. “So? What happened?” You asked, since he was still moping on your bed in silence. “That fucking rat Oliver! He lends his bike to Felix ONCE and now they’re besties! He is literally a dirt poor cunt that has no personality or anything interesting about him!”

Great so that’s what this was going to be. “Christ Far, what did he do?” You had to hold back a chuckle, you felt bad for him but when Farleigh was mad he made this really funny face. “Don’t fucking laugh! It’s not funny! You know how Felix and I were going to go to that new coffee place that just opened, and you and Eloise were going to join us after your maths class? Well fuck that apparently! Because Felix just messaged me that Oliver and him are doing an assignment together and he had to cancel!”

“Don’t get me wrong Far, that really sucks but if it’s for school I don’t really-” He cut you off before you could even explain yourself. “The fucking assignment is not until next monday! It’s wednesday for fucks sake!” You so did not have energy for this. “Okay Far, please calm down, if you do think that Oliver is doing it on purpose the last thing you want is to give him the satisfaction of pissing you off. Just stay calm about this and we’ll ask if Maisie is free this afternoon to join us.”

Farleigh seemed to cool off and now instead looked a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry for barging in like this, didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll message Maisie then, grab a coffee with me? As an apology for waking you up?” You gave him a smile and nodded. “Let’s drink it in the library, it’ll be so cosy with the rain and I need to finish some homework really quick before maths today. Should I message Eloise if she wants in?”

“Yeah sounds good, put on your shoes and let's go!” Farleigh was all back to his normal energised self again and you did as he said. Eloise replied that she would join you later. You and Farleigh jogged to the library, him with your coffee’s and you trying to hold the umbrella over both of your heads. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as Farleigh almost spilled the coffee at the entrance, while you shook off the umbrella.

You both strolled in and walked over to a free table in the back, with a big beautiful window that showed the autumn weather outside. Farleigh slid over your iced coffee to you while he drank his hot cappuccino with way too much sugar. Farleigh grabbed his laptop to work on some essay he had due tonight and you grabbed your maths homework. After about thirty minutes of work, you both couldn’t help but talk about Eloise’s new boyfriend.

A loud snort accidently left your lips when Farleigh imitated the poor boy's smile, which was all teeth and kind of creepy, when you flinched at the sight of a guy peering at the two of you behind a bookshelf. Farleigh’s brow furrowed and he turned to see what you were looking at behind him. Once he saw the guy he turned back to you and mouthed ‘what the fuck?’ which made you laugh again.

This seemed to be the final straw for the guy and he walked over. “Could the two of you shut up. You do realise that this is a library? People are trying to actually study.” The guy sneered. You looked at him with wide eyes, where had you seen him before? He didn’t seem like the guy to take literature…also not any of your other classes- oh… Maths. You definitely saw him there.

You’ve never really looked at him before. He was quite handsome if you took away the classes, khaki pants, tucked in blouse and the keys hanging from his belt, not bad. Farleigh spoke up before you could apologise. “Aren't you the guy who screamed at Oliver during O week?” He looked at the guy with an expression you knew all too well, he was about to rip this guy a new one. And of course the poor guy’s face goes red as a tomato.

You felt bad and gave Farleigh a look, anything to stop this awful moment. Luckily Farleigh gave it a rest and the guy opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He walked away instead. “What the actual fuck was that.” You laughed, the whole interaction was absurd. “I have no idea- Oh, El just messaged me. She is… on her way and will be here soon.” Farleigh read as he scanned his eyes over his phone.

“Good, but don’t make that face again in front of her. It’ll only start something between the two of you." Then your eyes noticed something, the guy from just now, sitting all alone, fervently writing down notes. Hm, kind of sad. Only five minutes later did Eloise stumble into the library, dripping wet, with her books under her coat. “Fuck me, that rain is just getting worse.” She said a little loudly as she dropped her books on the table. Earning a look from that guy from before.

“You don’t have an umbrella?” Farleigh chuckled. “No I don’t, who remembers to bring an umbrella to uni?” She scoffed. You raised your brows and smiled at Farleigh. He laughed and Eloise sat down, copying some of your already finished homework. “Hurry up, we only have ten minutes until maths start.”

“Yeah yeah I’ll be quick. I can easily do this in five and then we be there ‘bout three minutes before, that’s plenty of time.” You rolled your eyes and watched as Eloise hurriedly scrabbled on the paper. When she was done, Farleigh went back to his dorm to watch a movie, while you and Eloise headed the other way to maths, laughing when she saw you open the umbrella for the two of you.

Eloise always preferred to sit in the back, so that’s where you went. Felix and Oliver were already there. To be honest you didn’t know if you liked Oliver just yet, he hadn’t been around for long but you just got weird vibes from him. But if Felix liked you that’s all it takes to ‘get in’. You hadn’t realised when you were walking in front of Eloise that you would be seated right next to Felix.

You didn’t mind him, but he had this sort of weird thing with girls. As if he needed to prove to himself that he could get anyone, except for you. You had no interest in him, you were more the type to have a friendship and deep connection with someone rather than hooking up. But that was exactly what Felix was, a quick fuck. You gave him an awkward smile when he grinned at you, and a small nod from Oliver.

Time for small talk was impossible as your professor already cleared his throat, silencing the hall. But for some reason your eyes were scanning the room. That kind of looked like- oh, nope not him. He kind of looks similar- also not him, oh, there he is. All the way to the bottom left. You instantly recognised that nose, that jaw, his soft blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes- okay, that was a lot. You had no idea what overcame you but you would definitely be thinking about him later, when you were alone. And it was the daydreams of him that got you through the boring lecture.

Thursday, October 13th 2006

‘Saying what you gon’ do to me’ ‘But I ain’t seen nothing’ ‘Typical ain’t hardly the type I fall for’ ‘I like when the physical-’ You were so engrossed in the song coming from your headphones that you bumped into someone. Oh god- it was him. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you ripped your headphones out of your ears. “Whatever.” He mumbled, about to just step around you and move along into the building but you stopped him, grabbing his arm. Which made him turn around and look at you surprised.

“I’m so sorry about yesterday, I wanted to apologise then, but Farleigh can be so rude.” You smiled. He didn’t respond but looked at your hand on his arm instead, which you then quickly let go. “Uhm, what’s your name?” His mouth was slightly opened as he stumbled out, “M-Michael Gavey.” He stuck out his hand and you shook it as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you Michael, and again so sorry about yesterday.” He only nodded and then walked away. You subconsciously smiled and put your headphones back in, heading to your next lecture of the day.

#michael gavey x fem reader smut #michael gavey x fem reader #michael gavey x reader smut #michael gavey x reader #saltburn fanfic #saltburn smut #michael gavey saltburn

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wolvietxt · 19 days ago

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any maybe this one for Daryl too if you have the time… 👀 I love the way you write the softer side of Daryl 🥺

unexpected laughter: grumpy is having a rough day, but sunshine tells a ridiculous joke or does something silly, and to everyone’s surprise, grumpy actually laughs - loud and genuine - despite trying to stay serious

DARYL was having one of those days. everything seemed to grate on his nerves - from the way the sun beat down too hot overhead to the way everyone seemed intent on being in his space.

he’d spent the entire morning repairing a busted cart wheel, only to find out the axle was cracked too. by noon, he’d snapped at carol for hovering, glared at rick for asking too many questions, and muttered curses under his breath when judith toddled too close and almost stepped on his tools.

and then there was you. you’d been hovering too, always trying to help, trying to cheer him up.

“you want water?” you’d asked earlier, your voice all chipper and light.

“don’t need nothin’,” he’d grumbled, not even looking up.

you weren’t fazed, though. you rarely were when it came to him, which was both impressive and mildly infuriating. you had this way of brushing off his mood like it was nothing, sticking around no matter how hard he tried to push you off.

so when you wandered into the yard again after lunch, daryl let out a low groan. he didn’t even look up as you plopped down on the bench next to his tools.

“you’re still mad at the world, huh?” you teased, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees.

“ain’t mad,” he muttered, jamming the wrench onto the axle with more force than necessary.

“you sure? ‘cause you’ve been growling at everyone like a rabid dog since breakfast.”

he shot you a glare, but you just smiled sweetly, like his bad mood wasn’t even a blip on your radar.

“what do you want?” he grunted, returning to his work.

“nothing. just thought you might need a little cheering up.”

he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don’t need cheerin’.”

“oh, i beg to differ,” you replied, your tone light. “you’ve got that permanent scowl thing going on. you’re like a storm cloud in human form.”

he didn’t respond, too focused on the stubborn bolt that wouldn’t budge. you watched him for a few moments, your head tilted as if you were sizing him up.

then, out of nowhere, you asked, “hey, daryl, what do you call a deer with no eyes?”

he froze, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “what?”

you grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “no-eye-deer!”

his jaw tightened, and he looked back at the cart like he hadn’t even heard you.

undeterred, you leaned a little closer. “okay, okay, i got another one. what do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”

“don’t care,” he muttered, but you were already finishing the joke.

“still no-eye-deer!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together like it was the funniest thing in the world.

this time, his shoulders tensed, and for a second, you thought he might actually snap. instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “you’re impossible.”

you pouted dramatically. “c’mon, daryl, that was a good one!”

he grunted, but you weren’t done yet. you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought, then brightened as if you’d just remembered something brilliant.

“oh! what do you call a fake noodle?”

he sighed loudly, wrench still in hand. “don’t.”

“an impasta!”

that was it. something in him snapped - not in anger, but in disbelief. he let out a short, bark-like laugh before he could stop himself, quickly clamping his mouth shut as if he could take it back.

your jaw dropped, and you pointed at him triumphantly. “i knew it! i made you laugh!”

“did not,” he muttered, his ears turning pink as he went back to the cart.

“did too,” you shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “you laughed. loud and everything.”

he shook his head, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, like he was fighting to keep the grin off his face. “you’re an idiot.”

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, “but i made the grumpiest man alive laugh, so i’ll take it.”

he finally looked at you then, his expression softening despite the lingering frustration in his eyes. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your smile unwavering.

he shook his head again, but this time it was more in amusement than annoyance. “get outta here before you break somethin’.”

“fine,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “but just so you know, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“god help me,” he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as you walked away.

and for the rest of the day, every time he thought about that ridiculous joke, he couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that crept across his face.

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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bleedingoptimism · 9 months ago

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Eddie manages the band's TikTok when they are on tour. The content is mostly behind the scenes of them on the road, news about where they will be going next, band practice, jam sessions, etc. The boys have been friends since high school and get along amazingly, like family. But also like shit, just like family. So there are also videos of Eddie laughing while Frank yells at Jeff for farting on his pillow in the tour bus or Eddie filming himself while running as Gareth chases after him for eating the last cookie. HIS last cookie.

The channel is pretty popular even though it doesn't update often. And the links to their merch store and ticket store while on tour, help a lot with the band's expenses. Music being online makes people buy fewer albums and vinyls. And Spotify paying 0,03 cents per song makes being an up-and-coming band that needs money to rent a studio for recording, bus fares, hotel accommodations and to pay the roadies and technicians… kinda hard.

But the TikTok helps! So Chrissy, Eddie's best friend, Gareth's fiance, and their manager, suggests that Eddie keeps the TikTok going while on break from tour.

It doesn't take long to come up with the perfect idea. Restoring Eddie's old van to make it a small house on wheels for road-tripping. But they’ll need a handyman, someone who knows what they are doing.

Luckily, Chrissy has a solution to that. Her cousin Vicky, just came back from traveling the coast on a huge RV with her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s best friend and, according to Vicky, the man is an expert. He built the whole thing himself, from the ground up. So Chrissy tells Vicky, who asks Robin, who talks to Steve, and the meeting is set up.

On the day of the meeting, Eddie parks the van outside his place, sits on the back, and hits record on his phone, “Morning!” he says to the camera, squinting one eye as the sun hits his face because it’s actually noon, “I’m gonna do something fun during the tour break and I wanted to take yall with me. You see, ever since I was young, I've had this dream. Well, other than becoming a musician who can live off his music, thank you for that by the way,” he smiles and tips an invisible hat towards the camera. “The second thing I've always wanted is having one of those built-in movin' houses, a little RV, a camping van, you know the ones” he wiggles his brows and moves the phone a little around him, to show where he’s sitting so people know where he’s going with this.

“Sooo I asked a friend of a friend of a friend, who is an expert on making dreams come true, to help me and we are gonna mod my van. My lovely Haley, my faithful baby, who has been with me since the beginning… I'm scared. This dude better be good.” he laughs nervously.

part two -> 📱💞🚙

And then his focus shifts to something behind his phone, “Oh, here he comes now!” he waves enthusiastically and keeps looking, either forgetting he’s still filming his reaction or too distracted to save face, he squints a little and then frowns, blushes and, chuckles nervously again, “Oh no. he’s hot.”

☕🥐💕 coffee? by the lake's shore?

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #im in a rockstar eddie doing mundane things kick #i wrote something

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monzabee · 10 months ago

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pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!!

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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happy74827 · 9 months ago

Text

Contagiously Human.

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}

WC: 1881

Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?

Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️

Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.

『••✎••』

Hesitation.

The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.

He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.

His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.

He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.

So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.

It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?

Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.

So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.

Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.

You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.

So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.

A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.

He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.

When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.

You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.

You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.

He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.

He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.

That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.

A romance novel, of course. How ironic.

"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."

You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.

"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.

Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."

You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.

"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"

"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."

"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”

Shit.

He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.

You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?

First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.

"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."

"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.

"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."

"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.

"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.

"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?

"My aura?"

"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”

"And that means...?"

"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."

Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.

"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.

“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"

"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.

He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.

"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."

Damn.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."

"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.

"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?

"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry, am I being too honest?"

"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.

But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.

You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.

He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.

He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.

Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.

You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.

Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.

"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."

"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.

He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.

Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…

Hesitation.

[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀

That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨

Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.

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