#if you hate her you are going directly to hell
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moth2flamewriting · 3 days ago
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Suspended
Welp, I need to stay off this app so late at night. I literally saw this idea & stopped writing to quickly write this.
modern day smoke x annie
tw: they just fuckin in this so if that's not your vibe then.. idk please dont read it?
as always,
ENJOY.
"Babe, I'm not taking that. You are crazy as hell," he always came up with dumbass ideas.
They were getting ready to go to a wedding.
Annie doing her makeup.
Smoke fucking up his hair in the mirror trying to copy Stack's exact instructions. He ain't give a fuck about his hair.
"You keep saying you wanna enjoy your night and how we never get to go out and shit. I offered you a solution," Smoke replied.
He walked over to his dresser and pulled out weed, some papers and a lighter. He took the weed between his fingers and crushed it up into the paper. With a quick swipe of the tongue he rolled it to perfection.
Pulling the lighter out of his shirt pocket, he sparked the blunt. Taking a pull, he enhaled through his nose, he held it in for a few seconds.
He extended his arm offering the 'devils lettuce', as she called it. She didn't like smoking since that one back experience that we are NOT going to discuss. But since she got with Elijah, he kind of mellowed her out and gave her good experiences. So every once in a while, she indulged.
"If I have to be carried out tonight, this is on you," she said accepting.
They continued to get ready. Laughing, listening to their favorite songs and just enjoying getting ready together.
When Annie stood up, the high hit her like a truck.
Putting on her shoes.
Smoke offering her, her coat.
Getting into the car.
Putting on her seat belt.
All in slow motion.
She giggled to herself, she knew she was tripping out. 'Thats why he never offered to smoke often' she thought to herself. Which made her giggle even more.
"You high as hell," he fucked with her.
He was talking to her, but she was no longer laughing while she was looking at her man. The way his left hand gripped the stearing wheel. The way his arm sat on the arm rest. Muscles flexing involuntarily. 'Goddamn this nigga look so good.'
She had a heartbeat between her legs.
"How long until we get there?"
He reached over taking her hand into his. "We're about 30 minutes out, so just sit back and relax."
How the fuck could she relax? He smoked 3 blunts with her. And now, she was so relaxed that she wanted to fuck. And she wanted to do it now.
She unbuckled her seat belt.
"Babe, put you seatbelt on," he chastised her.
He hated when she rode in the car without her seatbelt on.
"Smoke , the seatbelt feels soo tight around me," she was trying to hint at what she wanted.
"Annie, put the damn seatbelt on," he wasn't catching on.
"I need you to help me do something really quick."
As quickly and quietly as she could, she pulled her dress up to her waist. She spread her legs as far as the door and middle console would allow.
"Give me your hand please," she said.
He offered his hand, she took it into hers. She guided him to her saturated panties.
"I knew it, you always become a horn dog when you smoke more than one blunt," he laughed.
"Your hand feels soo good on me baby," she whined. He was playing around and she was getting herself off on his huge fingers.
He didn't even have to directly touch her, she was wet with anticipation.
Rocking back and forth she rubbed her hardened clit against his fingers.
"Smoke- I- Daddy don't move," she cried out. Annie was sunken into the chair now, with her leg on the dash and one in his lap.
Rubbing her pussy through her saturated underwear. They were soaked. He wanted to be in her.
"Cum on Daddy's hand baby, get that nut," he grunted.
He was trying to focus on the road and on her. But if he didn't choose soon, they would crash.
"Oh baby, you bout to make me cum! I wanna cum on your dick baby," whimpering under his hand.
Yanking his hand away. He pulled into a, thankfully, vacant and dark parking lot.
Leaning over he ripped the panties off her body. Feeling how wet they were had his dick pressing up against his pants painfully.
He rubbed his fingers over her pussy. Spreading her juices all over. Groaning at how he was slipping all over her.
"Pussy so wet, cum on my hand," he was talking and walking her through it. She couldn't control the sounds coming out of her.
"K-k-keep fingering my pus- Daddy, you gon make me cu-" her breath caught at the back of her throat. Struggling to get the words out.
"Give it to me baby."
"Look at you beautiful."
"I love playing with you."
"Elijah- oh my fucking god! I'm cumming daddy," her body was convulsing. Feet clenched, finger nails digging into his arm, trying to steady herself and catch her breath while she came undone.
"Good girl. I got a surprise for you," he said.
He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pouch. In it held a lighter and a blunt.
"4!? YOU WANT ME TO SMOKE AGAIN?"
He had plans for her and this blunt.
"Get in the back."
She didn't ask any questions, she just did it.
He joined her in the backseat and pulled her into his lap. Their sex aligned. Her pussy lips planted directly onto his now exposed and hard dick.
Trying to focus on the task, he sparked it. Ghost inhaling. She put her lips to his as he exhaled. Slight movement of her waist. She was grinding on his dick slow. It was intoxicating.
Annie was wetting him up. Pussy leaking at the friction. His dick was dripping wet from her.
"Daddy please, just put the tip in me," she whispered.
He was still smoking, enjoying watching her try and get herself onto him.
Smoke grabbed himself, teasing her entrance with the head. She was tight, it was always a fight trying to get in her.
"Arch it up for me baby," he groaned.
Lifting her hips, he slipped right in. Both howling from the swift entry.
"Fuck," they both moaned.
Annie started riding him slow. Hands pinned to his chest. She felt like she was suspended in air. He was filling her up to the brim.
"Ride that dick baby," he kissed her neck. Sucking and licking deep into her spot. He placed his hand on the back of her neck to help guide her.
What was once and slow ride, turned rapid.
He was meeting her thrust for thrust. Pounding into her pussy from the bottom. She was squirting all over him, ruining his pants.
"You so deep in me, " she was floating. It feel like a deep hug, she could feel him from the top of her head, to the bottom of her feet.
"You sooo deep in me Smoke," she wailed. She lifted her body up, to get away from the overwhelming feeling at the bottom of her stomach.
"Sit on this fucking dick baby, let me put my nut in you," he demanded. Smoke grabbed her waist and yanked her back onto him, "Don't run from me."
She folding right into him, throwing her arms around him, clinging to his chest and his continued his assault on her pussy. She couldn't do nothing but take it.
Feeling like she was going to explode she clawed at the seats, the back of his head, his suit jacket. Trying to find something to grab.
"I'm bout to cum in you Mama, open that pussy up for me," he grunted.
"Elijah, I'm bout to cum all over your dick. You fuckin me so good. Keep fucking me just like that," she was begging.
Orgasm crashing over them both. Heavy panting. Foggy windows. Smoke in the air.
They stared into eachothers eyes, sharing a quiet moment between them.
And then,
"I should get you high more often."
the end.
yeah, i saw it and i took it. enjoy. thanks for the idea!!🩵 hope i did it some justice!
thanks for reading!!!
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justzutara · 3 days ago
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Prompt: Katara's first official day as Fire Lady.
The newly crowned Fire Lady Katara paused for a breath as she stood above the attentive crowd. She shone like a star as her golden ornaments glittered in the morning light. "Though I grew up far from here, I have come to know that we are more alike than we are different," her speech continued. "My title may have changed, but my mission has not. I will continue aiding Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang's efforts to restore harmony between all nations as I have done all these years."
"TRAITOR!" A lone man pushed through the crowd. He had dark skin and beads in his hair. "WHORE!" He screamed. Guards rushed to restrain him, but they did not succeed before the man threw something directly at Katara. She backpedaled away as a hunk of wood wrapped in blue cloth plummeted to the platform. Katara cautiously unwrapped it from the wood, and her stomach leapt into her throat. It wasn't just any cloth but a tunic, clearly Water Tribe in origin--stained with blood. Time stopped. Nothing else existed but Katara, clad in the regalia of the Fire Lady, and the bloody tunic, the same shade of red she wore now. "You abandoned your people!" The guards finally dragged the man away, but he had accomplished his goal. Katara looked out at the crowd, many gasping in horror, but others whispering with disdain. She clutched the tunic to her chest and sprinted into the palace. They could not see their new leader cry.
Zuko found her in their bedroom, staring numbly at the bloody garment, and rushed to her side. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he gushed. "Are you okay? Tell me what you need."
"It's seal blood," Katara said.
Zuko glanced at the tunic. It didn't look different from the blood he'd seen before. "How can you tell?"
She ran her fingers over the crusted stain. "It's a darker shade of red than human blood, and it forms a glossy surface when it dries." She moved the tunic around and sure enough, it glistened faintly in the lamplight. "What if he's right?" she whispered.
"He's not," Zuko deadpanned.
Katara glared at him. "I knew people in the Fire Nation wouldn't be happy about a waterbending Fire Lady, but I..." Zuko traced up and down her spine, coaxing her thoughts to quiet. "I never thought people from the Water Tribe would turn on me." Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes.
"Katara..." Zuko gently pried the tunic from Katara's shaking hands. "You've done more for the world since the war ended than me and Aang combined. Anyone who doesn't see that is a fool."
Her breath shuddered as she grabbed her husband's hands. "It seems like a lifetime ago that I hated you. All of you."
"It nearly was." Zuko gestured to his salt and pepper hair with a smirk. He was already going gray by his mid-twenties due to stress. Ten years later, the ratio of black to white was almost even.
Katara ran her fingers through his strands. "You're going to look old enough to be my father by the time you're forty."
"Will you still love me?" he asked with playful pity in his eyes that always made her laugh.
It hadn't failed yet. "Of course I will." They kissed between her giggles until her breath evened. With their foreheads pressed together, they felt the moment fade. "What are we going to do?" Katara whispered.
"What we always do." He cupped her face and stroked the faint smile line adorning her lips. "Stay together and fight like hell."
Katara slipped her hands around his shoulders. "I don't want to fight right now."
"Then let's just stay together." Zuko kissed his wife slowly and sweetly, guiding her down to her back with every touch of lips against skin. The future may be rougher than they imagined when they decided to wed, but today was supposed to be hers. He would make sure she felt celebrated.
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gayofthefae · 20 hours ago
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In the Duffers Masterclass I just watched they mentioned the monsters' evil overlapping with and representing "everyday evils", describing things like suburbia and conformity and the fake face you put on depression.
That is The Wheelers, poster child, perfect. They appear like what everyone says you should look like. But...
Ted is the breadwinner but he's in a constant state of passivity.
Karen is the housewife but she's miserable and misses thrill.
Nancy is the goodie two shoes perfect future wife but guess what she has sex, and she has guns, and she's pursuing an independent career.
Mike gets "too" good of grades and is straight but he....is telling the truth about that?
I don't think that's right. Having a girlfriend you don't tell anyone has superpowers is still posterchild, still putting on a face just like anything else, and it's succeeding to. This isn't about personal insecurity like his in season 4. This is about public appearance. If El were allowed to exist publically, The Wheelers at face value would be a married couple with two kids - a girl with a nice boyfriend she's going to college with and a high school boy with a nice girlfriend.
They need to be a [hopefully divorced] couple with two kids - a career driven girl who can defend herself like hell and a queer high school boy.
Not to mention on the superpowers note, that isn't even against status quo or norm. It sounds odd but it's not. Know why? They haven't even thought of that to be against. He needs to be something they ARE AGAINST.
Slut-shaming was prevalent in season 1 when Nancy had sex. Underestimation and misogyny was present in season 3 when she was pursuing a career. She surprises and defies expectations of herself in ways that are directly judged.
Homophobia was prevalent for Mike in season 1. "You'd be such a loser if you knew a psychic" never was, I promise you. She has something to fear going public: governments who have expressed desire for prosecution of her. He does not. He would not be prosecuted for her existence or for relation to her. If they wanted to say that, he could have faced consequences for harboring her in season 1, but they didn't - not to mention the fact that it doesn't represent any audience member to say 'it's hard having superpowers'.
Mike needs to be something that is actively hated, not something they haven't heard of and therefore probably maybe would or could hate. Something that IS. HATED. Something that has been expressed towards him. Something that he has been threatened out of.
All of those things are true of him being queer. The same way Nancy was slut shamed by the police and ridiculed by her male coworkers, Mike was spoken to homophobically and physically harmed and threatened.
It's odd to have superpowers, but Mike has no reason to fear prosecution. It's unconventional. It doesn't challenge convention. And that's what the people of Hawkins are afraid of. Challenging of their beliefs. The truth about his person can't invoke surprise, it needs to invoke hatred.
They said they were inspired by their own experience growing up in suburbia. Hiding who you are and what you're going through out of fear of judgment around you. Mike with El would fear the unknown. But he needs to fear a concrete something.
From perfect nuclear family to divorced parents of a gunslinger career daughter and a queer son is anti-convention. Straight boy dating a superhero is unconvention - as in unrelated, not against. Divorced parents of a gunslinger daughter and a straight son with a cool girlfriend is inconsistent. To the core themes to which this family is meant to perfectly represent.
Every other family is openly not fitting the norm: single parents, mental health issues, nuclear family but Black. The Wheelers are perfect. The Wheelers are the only illusion still left to be broken. Being with El - being straight - in no way breaks a single convention. It surprises. But once you adjust, you just look at him and go "oh look a straight boy, his girlfriend has powers yeah, you get used to it". It does not break. Queerness breaks. Queerness shatters.
The theme is represented by The Wheelers. They cannot be inconsistent. They must secretly shattering convention in every facet. They can't just forget one. Miserable mom, passive dad, powerful daughter, and perfect little straight boy with the good grades whose family fell apart around him. That's what they'd see. Mike, especially as the only member of that poster board family who is also in the kids' group which is the poster board for wrongful prosecution and bullying, of all people cannot be what's left out. He MUST, even if no one else, be the poster child of "forced conformity. that's what's killing the kids".
And sorry but if his sister who likes her job is more anti-conformity than "bullying meets pretending to be perfect to hide a deep dark secret: poster child", you're doing something wrong.
Eleven and Will represent two sides of the same coin in the themes of abuse. Mike represents the theme of anti-conformity, because to do so you have to have tried to conform - that's just stories work.
The poster child for anti conformity cannot beat out the other character options of homophobia and racism for that spot by being "kind of scared that one soldier will be mad at him by proxy".
When I think the poster child for conformity killing the kids I don't think him
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Lieutenant Colonel Jack Sullivan does not represent the classic "everyday evil" threat suburban kids face.
I think of them
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They're killing the kids. The kids stuck in homophobic, white suburbia smalltown midwest watching these episodes know. Snipers in helicopters aren't killing those kids. They are. And they're killing them for being queer. For Mike, they'd have no reason else.
No one has ever told Mike "just conform and date somebody without superpowers". Actually, the only thing they've ever told him is "it's so cool that you have a girlfriend with superpowers". So there is no way that a white straight boy staying with his white straight girlfriend is what will "kill him": death by "conformity".
To quote his sister:
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He is the sole intersection between the picture perfect family and the group of kids pressured most frequently to conform. He's not going out straight.
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winds-of-zephyr416 · 2 days ago
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It might be a bit petty, but one of my favorite things about angbang is the way it pisses the dudebros and the homophobic purists off. They’re obnoxious about it, but still… buddy. YOU are the one who’s getting worked up here. This ship has been in the fandom for over a decade and isn’t going anywhere, why u mad? Why u sad? U need to go jump in a bubble bath to wash off all the icky fandom gayness?
It’s literally that one meme about frolicking in a field and then suddenly having a random guy yelling and screaming about how nobody should be having fun like that.
On a more serious note, the Thuringwethil thing. Ew. Ugh. That’s really the part of this that elevates it from “sucks, but nothing new“ to “ohh I see. They’re homophobic AND they think the only reason women exist in fiction is for them to get laid! That’s gross!” It bothers the hell out of me because 50% of the population is women, 80% of the people I know are women, some of those writers are probably women, and yet we still have fandom treating women like they’re barely people at all. Especially when they have close ties to another character who just happens to be a man/masculine-presenting. It sucks and I hate it, because, while there are plenty of gay ships interpreted from platonic dynamics, there are basically zero platonic m/f dynamics, anywhere. I want to see friends. I want to see found siblings. I want to see a masculine character and a feminine charcacter be each other’s ride-or-die without anyone shoehorning in a kiss scene. I want stories to be themselves without getting straightness shoved on them like it’s some kind of rite of passage. I want to read fics where a woman and a man can have any dynamic other than “yeah, they’re fucking.” I know men and women who are best friends, I know men and women who are coworkers and nothing else. I know men and women who are romantic partners, but also have friends that they can see without the other getting jealous or worried they’re going to get cheated on. Why can’t we show these things instead of the same five amorous subplots over and over again?
I guess part of the reason stuff like this pisses me off so much is because as a trans guy/enby, I’ve spent my entire life trying to escape these kinds of gender roles that I still don’t even understand. (The autism is probably part of that too). They’re pointless, they’re unrealistic, and the only purpose they serve is to dumb down an entire gender into fanservice and mysoginistic takes. I dunno. Maybe Tolkien wouldn’t like angbang. They’re a gay ship and the dude was a Catholic born in the late 1800s, after all. But judging based on how important he felt the tiniest details of Arda were, and on how he gave characters like Idril, Lúthien, Galadriel, Nerdanel, Haleth, Elwing, Melian, and so many more the ability to think for themselves, I think he would’ve disliked the treatment of his female characters more. Especially since much of it directly misinterprets what’s actually in the book. (Case in point, Melian. No, she was not a selfish and uncaring queen, she was greiving her dead husband who she had been ruling with since before the Sun and Moon. Of course she would react differently than she would as a ruler, the love of her life just got stabbed! To death! Have you ever lost someone you thought you were going to spend eternity with? No? Then how can you dictate the reaction of someone who has?)
Besides, the will of the author is never the deciding factor in fandom, especially not when it’s in speculation. Everything in what I said about how Tolkien would feel could be proven wrong if he were to pop out of the grave one day and say so. But still, would that even matter? Because in this context, the point isn’t what’s in canon or in the author’s mind, the point is what’s in the fandom. And fandom is a space for fun and exploration, not adhering to the book or the author like it’s scripture. Tolkien AND half the fanbase could hate my guts, and I’d still be shipping angbang, writing women like people, and throwing my queer headcanons wherever I see fit. Because it’s fandom, and fandom is for fun.
I saw someone complaining under angbang fancomic about how it's "disrespectful to Tolkien" and "never happened in canon" and blah blah blah, and that fans should stop making everything gay. BUT then they said that both Melkor and Mairon slept with Thuringwethil 🫠Normally I ignore dudebros, but this time it low-key pissed me off.
WHY are you so homophobic AND misogynistic? 😭 We know nothing about Thuri except that she was a vampire and Sauron’s messenger, but she’s also a woman, so it’s suddenly canon that she slept with both Dark Lords??? But when it’s angbang, you can’t even make fanart without getting attacked for it because they both are guys 💀
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The same people who complain about how "insufferable" yaoi/yuri shippers are, and that they ruin everything by making platonic relationships gay don't even notice that they do exactly the same thing with platonic m/f relationships. It happens all the time in all fandoms, and hetero shippers are always way more insufferable about it.
A guy and a girl can stand next to each other for five minutes, but people will already assume they’re canon and act like it’s confirmed 🙈
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terriblewomanyuri · 10 days ago
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mamawasatesttube · 4 months ago
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every day. people say things on my posts. and i have to tell myself not to bother engaging because tumblr has an endless stream of stupid people to leave stupid tags on my posts. every day i go through this. every day the lab releases a new person specifically engineered to age me 5 years by missing the point of my posts so spectacularly it leaves me speechless. every day.
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insipid-drivel · 1 year ago
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Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap
I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!
Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:
-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.
Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.
Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.
-Horses are stupid/have no personality.
There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.
My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.
Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.
-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.
Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.
Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.
-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.
At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.
The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.
Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.
Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.
So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.
-Big Horse = War Horse
Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.
More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.
Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.
-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.
Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.
Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.
When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!
-Horseback riding isn't exercise.
If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.
Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.
-Horses aren't affectionate.
Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.
-Riding crops are cruel.
Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.
I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?
Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.
-There's only one way to ride a horse.
Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.
Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.
-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.
This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.
So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.
-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.
This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.
There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.
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jamminvroomvroom · 3 months ago
Text
give me a reason.
LN x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which… ‘the one where’ lando needs to get his shit together, or lose the love of his life…
hi! it’s me! back again with angst, fluff and filth! i needed to get this the hell away from me bc i worked on it so long that it kinda stopped making sense so i fear this isn’t my best work oopsie! anyways, thanks for being the best bunch ever and pleaseeeeeee let me know what you think - likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside soooo you know what to do…
songs to set the vibes: hoax by t swizzle, no i’m not in love by tate mcrae, come over by noah kahan
warnings: 18+!! minors BEGONE! smut, angst!! but also fluff sooo..! friends to something worse to lovers, lando needs to be shot ngl, lando is so messy, max is yet again a victim, r loves wine a lot, alcohol use, swearing, lando has a bitchy gf (we hate her!) for a bit, r is just a girl, p in v, general sex acts, unprotected sex (sigh)
8.2k words
you’re perched at the edge of the booth watching. pietra plies you with drinks, knowing full well that it’s the only way you’re gonna make it through the evening. max sits beside her, an arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder as he glares at his best friend at the bar.
“he’s such an idiot.” max sighs, polishing off the rest of his drink in one. he knows he’s about to have his ear talked off about lando’s latest fling.
“such an idiot.” p scowls. you just laugh, reach for another shot of vodka.
“what do you guys expect?” you sneer, faking a smile as the bitter liquid warms your belly.
“you guys are meant to be together.” max states. p nods quickly, but pauses.
“not sure if he even deserves you though, baby.” she coos, squeezing your arm softly. you thank her with watery, bleary eyes.
lando’s on his way back over now, the pretty blonde he’d been chatting up for the last ten minutes tucked under his arm. that shuts you all up, but the cold air blasting out of the dimly lit booth could give lando and his mystery woman fatal hypothermia.
“guys, this is casey.” lando grins toothily, ushering you to move around in the booth so they can sit with you. you end up sat between pietra and casey, smushed uncomfortably into the sticky pleather. lando makes the introductions.
“my best friend max, his girlfriend pietra, and,” he clears his throat when his eyes fall on you. “and, um, my other friend.”
my other friend.
you didn’t think he could reach a new low.
“wow.” you hiccup, wriggling closer to pietra.
“i thought she was your best friend.” pietra narrows her eyes at lando, keeps her voice light and teasing.
casey is beautifully oblivious, sky blue eyes remaining firm on the racing driver at her side. you want to throttle them both.
“course. yeah.” he laughs it off awkwardly, before placing all of his attention on his latest conquest. it sounds harsh, sure it does, but you know lando and you know how he operates.
“i’m going. thank you,” you say directly and loudly to max and p, who are shuffling from the seats so you can get out of this prison of couples that you’d been so cruelly trapped in. “for a nice evening.”
you don’t bother to say goodbye to lando.
-
you spend the next morning crying into a cup of coffee, wrapped in three different blankets. deeply, devastatingly hungover.
you spend the afternoon that follows on the phone with max.
“it’ll be over in days, hun, don’t even worry about it. he’s probably trying to get her out of his place right now and can’t even remember her name.” max reassures, and while history would suggest him to be right, something inside of you twists with dread. “i don’t know what he’s playing at.”
“you told me that he… you said he liked me, max.” you groan, hot with embarrassment.
“he did! he does! he thinks you aren’t interested so- “
“i don’t wanna hear it max. i went to abu dhabi, flew in just to surprise him, to finally fucking tell him, and… well you know what happened.”
you’d walked into his hotel room and found him balls deep inside someone else.
needless to say, you weren’t convinced that he was as hopelessly, pathetically in love with you as max claimed him to be; as hopelessly, pathetically in love with you as you were with him.
“i know, i know, but he was hurting. doesn’t excuse the, uh, emotional warfare, but he doesn’t know how you feel.”
“well, at this rate, max, he never will.”
-
you’re stupid for being excited for the group dinner you’ve planned. everyone’s coming, max and p, martin, some of the boys and some of your girls. and lando. you haven’t seen him for a week, not since caseygate, and if you’re being earnest, you don’t really want to. at least he’ll be alone, you think. he doesn’t bring his hookups to group plans.
you think, and god laughs.
he’s the last to arrive, the same blonde with the same striking blue eyes tucked under the same stupid arm. you sink your glass of wine before they even get to the table, leg bouncing frantically against the chair. you swear you see pietras lips recoil into a snarl.
“did you know he was bringing her?” she hisses quietly to max, looking at you cautiously.
“obviously not!” max defends, nostrils flaring.
“sorry we’re late.” you hear from the head of the table. “everyone, this is casey.”
-
half an hour later, after having the magical story of their blossoming relationship shoved down your throat, you escape to the bathroom.
you’re fixing your lipgloss when the door swings open. in casey walks, complete with a hair flick and a tacky, expensive handbag.
“oh, i didn’t even realise you were here tonight.” she speaks, sickeningly false. “i thought i’d notice such a good friend of lando’s.”
you suck in a breath.
“i wouldn’t get too used to little old me.” you shrug, meeting her condescending grin with a better, badder one. “or lando, quite frankly. he’ll get bored soon.”
you leave her in the dust, only letting yourself shake with rage when you know she can’t see you. you bypass the table completely, shoot p a quick text that says you’re going home, and wait for the maître d' to hand you your coat. you wait outside the restaurant for your uber, glance back to see if anyone had even noticed you’d gone. by anyone, you mean one person, and one person only.
lando’s looking around the table, something vacant in his eyes. it’s perhaps the first time you’ve properly looked at him all night. there’s something withered and haunted in his eyes, even from so far away you can see it. he seems to be searching for something, something that he can’t place. someone.
you see that same tired face in your dreams that night, joined by a pretentious, condescending smile, taunting you while you toss and turn.
-
casey becomes such a constant that you’re shocked that lando eventually comes to a party without her. it’s pietra’s birthday, and max is throwing her a party at their apartment.
you’re there early to help max set up when lando walks in, better rested than the last time you’d seen him. he’s wearing a loose white button up and light wash jeans that sit just right, curls a crown atop his head.
“no casey?” max asks subtlety as him and lando hug. you make no move to greet him.
“nah, she had other plans.” he scratches his nose as he says it, and you know it’s a lie. it’s been his tell as long as you’ve known him.
max stares awkwardly between you both, gesturing his head wildly towards you when he knows you’re not looking. lando shrugs, frantic silent conversation transpiring between them until you turn around.
“fuck, forgot candles. silly me! be back in ten.” max doesn’t give you a chance to breathe before he’s darting out the door, jacket slung over his arm. you glare as he disappears out the door.
“you gonna talk to me?” lando questions, hands shoved deep in his pockets. he tries to sound light, nonchalant but it just comes off standoffish, an awkward reminder of just how much distance there is between you now, and how much there has been since he made it his personal mission to sleep with every woman he laid eyes on. except you.
“depends.” you reply flatly.
“on?” you can hear his footsteps against the hardwood floor, inching closer and closer. your hands shake as you untangle the balloons, pouring them out of the packet onto the table. you feel the heat of him before you see him, closing in on you. it’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him that you can anticipate each movement before he even makes it, your senses ultra heightened.
your breath shakes.
“on?” he presses, aware of just how stubborn you can be. “what’s going on with you?”
“nothing, lando. tired, busy, the usual. nothing crazy.” you attempt to shrug him off, but apparently he’s not done with you.
“then why can’t you look at me? did i do something?” he chokes out a laugh, a revelation of how uncomfortable he is.
you brave the sight of him, turning slowly until you’re face to face. he looks beautiful, freshly shaved, curls tamed back but not enough to stop them from hanging over his forehead to frame his face. just the way you like them.
“see? nothing wrong.” you smile tightly, wondering if he can see the effort it takes to make your face move for him, if he can see the tension coursing through your veins like electricity. he seems to scan your face, taking his time, before he sighs, hums like he’s finally satisfied.
“so you’ve been busy?” lando asks, trying to revert to your status quo, but you can’t bare the agony of pretending. “hardly seen you since, uh, abu dhabi.”
“yep.” you quip, disappear into the kitchen just as you hear max’s keys in the front door.
-
a few hours later everyone’s had too much to drink, and the party is in full swing. lando’s persisted more than you thought he’d bother to, and you’ve managed to exchange sentences made up of more than three words apiece. you’ve left your circle to get a drink, about to slip into the kitchen, but hushed whispers stop you from entering.
your blood runs cold when you realise that one set of frantic whispers belong to lando, the other to max. you feel that you should leave, come back when it’s all clear but something tugs on your heartstrings and ties you to the threshold of the room. maybe it’s the possibility for closure, or worse, hope.
“mate you called me basically crying, telling me how in love with her you are, and when she gets there, you’re fucking someone else! what the fuck do you want from her, man?” max spits.
“how the fuck was i supposed to know she was gonna show up?” lando retorts, an edge of desperation in his voice.
“the real question is: why would you sleep with someone if you feel that way about her? why are you fucking around? why are you with casey?”
“because i was hurt, max! she’s been going on all these dates, talking about guys she’s seeing and, what, i’m supposed to put my life on hold waiting for her to love me back? i can’t do it anymore. i can’t.” lando’s voice cracks at the end and you lean into the wall, unable to feel your legs.
“you could have told her, you idiot.” max is having none of the pity party, it seems, finally ready to knock some sense into your mutual best friend.
“and ruin everything? she clearly didn’t want to be with me.” lando argues. max sighs.
“if you actually think that, then you’re a lost cause, mate.” you hear what you assume is. sympathetic slap on the back.
“i’m doing fine with casey, i’m finally getting somewhere. jesus, i haven’t even slept with her yet.” lando whines. your heart stops on the other side of the door.
“so, it’s serious then? you and casey?” max asks, skeptical.
“it could be.” lando admits.
you put yourself out of your misery, loudly opening the door to the kitchen. you act aloof, surprised to see them, but the crease in your forehead is all max needs to see. he knows you heard at least some of it. fifteen years of friendship with him means he can read you like a book. fifteen years of friendship with lando has done nothing but break your heart.
“sorry, guys, didn’t know you were in here.” you feign nonchalance. “just need a drink.” you slide past lando, watching the way his back ripples with tension at the slight brush of your body against his. you let out a deflated breath, wrapping your hand around a cold can of god knows what. all you know is you need a drink, and you need to get out of this fucking kitchen.
you find pietra on the makeshift dance floor, join her and your friends to spin and twirl and forget about the man who’s stood in the corner doing nothing but watch you.
-
a week passes. lando’s wine drunk. you’re laying across one of his sofas, sharing with him, and max and p sit on the other sofa. you’re all giggling about nothing in particular, latest gossip, old anecdotes, random shit that no one’s sober enough to not laugh at. it feels like balance is being slowly restored, like the good old days before it all went sour.
“still can’t believe you did a whole lap of the ski lodge naked.” you tease lando, smirking at him from your end of the sofa. you nudge his thigh with your foot, and he grabs your ankle, thumbing over the sensitive skin.
“a dare is a dare.” he replies, grinning back at you, his gaze lingering even when max interjects.
“again, mate, no one fucking dared you to do that.” max shouts, and you all descend into laughter again.
“i did not need to see some of the things i saw that night.” p grimaces playfully, and you can’t help but flush at the memory of lando’s bare ass disappearing into the snow.
“agreed.” you say, drawing lando’s eyes back onto you.
“you know you loved it.” he raises an eyebrow at you, and you stare bashfully into the wine glass in your hand. you feel his hand squeeze, nails ghosting above your ankle, making you shiver.
“got an early morning tomorrow, fuck.” max groans. “better get going.”
you hug him and p goodbye, graciously offering to help lando tidy up a little as the couple leaves the driver’s london apartment for their own.
you’re carrying empty glasses into the kitchen when you spot it, and it stops you dead in your tracks. the same handbag that casey had carried into that bathroom all those weeks ago. your skin tingles, a phantom touch making you burn.
“so you and, uh, casey are getting serious, huh?” you mumble, finally making it into the open plan kitchen.
lando stands on the opposite side of the marble counter, a tea towel slung over his shoulder, disgustingly domestic.
for her, though. never for you.
“not sure.” he responds flippantly.
“must be, can’t remember the last time you kept a girl around this long.” your attempt at a joke falls flat, even though he’s still tipsy, flushed with alcohol.
“s’that supposed to mean?” lando asks, boyish and defensive.
“nothing, just… you haven’t really seemed in a relationship-y place.” you remark, trying to appear casual as you place the glasses on the countertop.
“i wasn’t but i realised i needed to get my shit together. haven’t even-“ he starts, but cuts himself off abruptly.
“haven’t what?” you press, finding a cloth to wipe the marble clean.
“don’t wanna make things weird by telling you that kinda stuff.”
“lando, you called me when you lost your virginity and couldn’t find your way out of her apartment building. commando. you can tell me.” you deadpan.
as much as you could do without a play by play of his newfound relationship and changed ways, he’s your friend first, and he seems like he needs a shoulder. it would be careless, cruel, even, to deny him of that.
“well, we haven’t, uh, you know.” he looks at you intensely.
“oh. still?”
lando looks at you strangely, wondering what on earth you mean by that, but you swoop in with a get out of jail card that stops him from figuring out you’d eavesdropped.
“i mean, haven’t you guys been together for like a month?” you continue.
“yeah but i guess i figured i should take it slower, deviate from my, uh, usual way.” he admits, scratching his neck.
“oh, that’s… nice.”
“not according to casey.” he mutters, slinging the tea towel across the counter, frustrated.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you enquire, avoiding eye contact.
“i don’t know, she’s just… she wants it and, fuck, i was trying to be a good fucking guy for once.” lando sighs, disheartened. his eyes are trained on you but you can’t meet his gaze, it would destroy you. “i spent so much time unhappy, wanting something i can’t have, so now i just… what would,” he inhales sharply, centring himself. “what would you want?”
“huh?” you squeak, daring to look at him. the room fades away in the intensity of his stare, his eyes boring into yours. the counter that separates you grounds you, stops you from dropping to your knees and begging him to love you.
“what would you want? how would you want that to be, your first time with someone?”
you stop breathing, curling your fingers around the cool marble.
“i… i don’t know.” you whisper.
“sorry, i knew this would be weird.” he rushes out.
“no, it’s not! well, yeah it is, but,” you inhale deeply. “if it were me, i guess i’d want you to… catch me off guard.” you murmur, leaning against the counter, the swirled marble cool against the bare sliver of skin that your ridden up t shirt exposes. “you know, with a really good kiss - soft at first, but the kind that… as it gets deeper, you know something so good is about to happen.”
lando stares at you, mouth hanging open as you speak softly, so earnestly, into the empty space between you. it seems like a million miles keeps you apart, and his eyes go wild, hungry, like he wants to crawl over the surface and pin you to it as he hangs on to your every word.
“i don’t really know,” you continue, trying to brush it all off, pretend that your entire body isn’t on fire, like you’re not itching for something that cannot be scratched. “but i suppose you’d pull me close, so i’m pressed up against you, and then it would get kind of sweaty, blurry… and then it’s just happening.”
lando seems to be bracing himself, holding position, a tension running through his body that wasn’t there before. he’s flushed, and if you squint, there’s a bead of sweat slowly dripping down his forehead, giving him away. your nails dig into your palms, a reboot to your system, and you shuffle backwards awkwardly, recoiling from the counter that keeps you from him.
“okay. uh, okay.” he whispers, nodding rapidly. “i’ll keep that it mind.”
“i’ll put the glasses away in the dining room.” you tell him hurriedly, grabbing the stems and hurtling out of the kitchen. when you reach his dining room, where the air seems to be much thinner, normal, you exhale shakily and book an uber.
“thought you would stay here.” lando strains when you tell him, watching you shrug your coat on.
“can’t tonight.” you reply, clipped.
“can we… can we get dinner this week maybe? just us?” lando pleads, doesn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice.
“lando… i don’t think that’s a good idea.” you finally give up the ghost, looking him right in the eyes.
“why not?”
“you know why.”
he breathes your name, takes a step closer to you as you take a step back.
“no, i really don’t. why have you been so distant? i know what you saw in abu dhabi was weird but-“
“do you know why it was weird, lando? do you know how that made me feel?”
“no, because you haven’t said anything. tonight was the first night in months that you’ve seemed okay and now you’re being off again.”
“imagine finally thinking that the guy you’re in love with finally feels the same, only to walk in on him fucking some random person.” you bellow, tears slipping over your waterline. you breathe heavily, the admission taking tons off of your shoulders.
“what?” he gasps, jaw going slack.
“forget it.” you mumble, backing away towards the door. you can’t believe the relief you feel, exhausted from the pretending. you can’t even bring yourself to care about the repercussions.
“no, i- what the fuck did you just say?” lando’s eyebrows are drawn together tight, confused.
“you heard me.” your words are hushed, shy, laced with a tremble that makes his chest ache.
“i didn’t know.” is all he can say, staring at you with a desperation that makes you want to stay. you know better.
“it doesn’t matter now. you said yourself, you wanna be happy with her. so do it, go be happy with her.” you tell him, your lack of malice astounding.
“why can’t you fight for us?” he whispers, finally dares to go there.
“i did. abu dhabi. that was me fighting for you.” you scoff at his audacity. “why can’t you fight for us?”
“i didn’t know.” he repeats, voice going up an octave with annoyance. “imagine watching the girl you’ve been in love with for years go on dates, listen to her talk about the guys she’s seeing.” he hits back.
“maybe we’ve both made mistakes, lando, but i tried to put myself out there and got hurt. why would i do that to myself again?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. your heart pounds in your chest, flustered at his admission, as much as you try and hide it from him. it hits different to hear him say it to your face; it didn’t cut as deep when you’d heard it lingering outside max’s kitchen.
“if i thought for a second that you felt how i felt - how i still feel - none of this would have happened, abu dhabi, casey, none of it.”
“but now you’re with her and, great, that’s fine, i’m just not sure how to be your friend right now.”
“no, no, we’re not throwing that away. even if we can’t be together,” you both visibly deflate at the word. “i know it’s so fucking selfish but i can’t lose you like that too.”
“give me a reason, lando. because right now? you’ve already lost me.”
when you get into the uber, you’re sobbing, and you’re sure the poor man that had the misfortune of picking you up understands when he turns the radio up - taylor swift is playing - and smiles at you sadly.
-
he’s spinning aimlessly in his gaming chair when max finds him.
“what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” is all max has to say, looming in the doorway to lando’s office.
“what happened to a simple ‘hello’?” lando grumbles.
“you’ll get a simple hello when you stop being a dick.” max replies, matter of fact.
lando laughs bitterly in response.
“just tell me one thing. one thing that makes no fucking sense to me. why are you still with casey?”
“i don’t know if i ever really was.” lando observes, eyes vacant and tired. “she was a distraction and i’m an asshole.”
“well, at least you know.” max mutters under his breath. lando can’t even muster a glare his best friends way.
“i ended it about an hour ago.” lando starts. “she told me that she was gonna go public, call me a cheater, say that i used her as a pawn. don’t even get me started on what she was gonna say about…” lando trails off, can’t even say your name. he feels like he doesn’t deserve to.
“fuck.” max sighs, finally walking into the room. he takes a seat on the small sofa. “what are you gonna do?”
“spoke to my team. they’ll deal with her. told me that they all deserve a pay rise and i don’t disagree.”
“and what about…” max echos his friend, trailing off. he leans forward with anticipation.
“i don’t know, man. i love her but i know i don’t deserve her, not after all this. she deserves to be happy and all i seem to do is make her miserable.”
“mate, she wasn’t miserable because you were just friends. she was miserable because you were ignoring her, choosing randoms over her. you know that, right?” max says, finally something resembling gentle in his tone.
“if i couldn’t even be a good friend, how the fuck am i gonna be a good boyfriend?”
“figure it out, you knob. all this feeling sorry for yourself isn’t working out. be honest with her for once, tell her how you feel. it’s not rocket science, lando. she loves you more than you deserve, so pull yourself together and fucking show her that she is everything to you.”
-
the next week is spent working far too hard and sleeping far too little.
you don’t hear from him, and he doesn’t hear from you, but it’s how it should be. if there’s no distance, you’d have a whole set of problems on your hands, forced on you by a can of worms that needed to stay sealed. it’s better this way, you relentlessly tell yourself.
max and p bring you dinner the night things change.
“you sure i can’t convince you to come work at quadrant?” max prods, taking in the ridiculous amount of papers and spreadsheets that have taken over your living room. “wouldn’t be as intense as this.”
“for so many reasons: no.” you shoot him a look, one that says leave it alone. he nods, gets the hint, and drops onto the scrap of sofa that isn’t covered in paperwork.
“you’ve been sleeping though, yes?” pietra asks, eyebrows raised with concern. she knows how you get.
you hum in acknowledgment, avoiding eye contact as you plate the food they’ve brought. p sighs.
“have you spoken to him?” max finally asks, and you know it’s taken everything in him to not ask, in the short five minutes he’s been in your flat.
“max!” pietra hisses, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“c’mon, you knew i’d have to ask, especially considering he’s been a little bitch all week.” max defends.
“i haven’t. told him i needed space.” you shrug.
“how’s that working out for you?” max gestures to the mess that engulfs the room, swallows it whole. again, you shrug.
“fine.” you stress, digging in to the chinese food. max scoffs and you snort with a mouthful of noodles when pietra glares at him.
“well, he’s miserable, and you’re behaving like someone who’s gonna end up on a true crime documentary, so sue me for asking.” he scolds sarcastically.
“okay, you want the tea?” you roll your eyes. “he told me they hadn’t had sex. i gave him advice - against the better judgment of literally anyone ever, by the way - tried to leave and he fucking ambushed me. wanted to have dinner with me, as if he hasn’t been pushing me away for months, and then had the fucking audacity, max, to ask me why i won’t fight for us, for him - oh! and he still has a girlfriend! so, you know what, you got me, i’m not doing so great but,” you choke out a laugh, opening the box of prawn toast. “too fucking bad.”
“i promise you, this will pass and casey will be gone and then-“
“and then me and lando can go back to pretending and avoiding and hurting each other. can’t wait.”
max shakes his head in defeat, knows he has to let lando fix this himself. he has no chance of winning this one with you.
“eat your noodles.” is all he has left. pietra disappears into your kitchen, and returns with a bottle of wine.
you eat together, put on netflix, slumped into the sofa as you try and relax. you’re halfway through your first drink when your phone buzzes. assuming it’s your overbearing boss, who apparently doesn’t sleep either, you pick it up and quickly wish you hadn’t.
lando: can you come over
like now
if you can
please. please please please please
we broke up.
“holy shit.”
you sit up suddenly, scan the room for your bag and a jacket. you don’t care that you’re in old sweats, you just feel the need to move, to get to him before common sense kicks in.
“you good?” max asks.
“uh, i need to go, like right now. stay and finish the wine if you want, but i just need to go to-“
“lando?” max and p ask simultaneously, and you burn with embarrassment.
“i can’t even try and lie to you right now. is this pathetic?” you question.
“no! go!” max shouts, exasperated, standing to usher you out of your own apartment.
-
twenty minutes later, you knock on his door.
when it opens, he’s disheveled in a way that makes you hug him immediately, his touch disturbingly foreign, and you feel him sink into your hold. he pulls you inside, kicks the door shut, and doesn’t let you go.
“sofa?” you murmur into his hoodie. you feel him nod, and you part, pad towards the lounge as you shrug off your jacket.
“hi.” he says tiredly, as soon as you’re both sat.
“hey.” you coo back. your eyebrows are drawn together as you take him in, concern woven through your features. “sorry about casey.” lando scoffs.
“don’t be, don’t even know what i was thinking.”
“well, neither do i,” you retort. “but i’m still sorry. did it happen just before you texted?” you ask.
“no, a week ago.”
“a week ago?” you gasp. “but that would mean…”
“yeah. right after you left here. asked her to come over and ended it. she told me she was gonna go to the media with a whole load of shit, so i’ve been sorting things out.”
“i’m so sorry.” you whisper.
lando laughs.
“you’re sorry? god, you’re way too fucking good for me.” he scoffs, bitter with self deprecation. “i can’t believe you even came, to be honest.”
“course i came. i might be angry at you, but you- you wanted me to, so…”
“i don’t even know where to start. i’m just so sorry about the last few months. i thought i was losing you and it drove me insane, but i should have never, ever taken my shit out on you.”
“what do you mean? losing me?”
“the dates, the guys. god, it was awful of me but it killed me.”
“that was only because i didn’t think i had a chance.”
“well, if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t think i had a chance either.” he laughs. “so what you said about abu dhabi… was that why you came? to tell me?”
“yeah, kinda. after some… encouragement from a mutual friend, i was gonna tell you that i wanted us to be more.”
lando shifts closer, your thighs pressing together. you can feel his body heat, so warm and inviting, drawing you closer.
“more.” lando repeats, tasting it on his tongue, the weight of everything he’s ever wanted since he was sixteen and fell in love for the first time.
“yeah, and then it seemed like you didn’t want that.”
“you must know by now that i also want more.” he murmurs, fingertips brushing your forearm. you keen into the barely there touch that traces over your skin.
“i’d say that’s been implied, yeah.” you joke, searching his eyes. they’re hooded, swirling with an intensity that you never thought you’d experience with another person. “um, i heard you and max. the night of pietra’s birthday.” you admit.
“fuck,” he sighs, shoulders sagging. “i’m so sorry, i swear, i never meant to put you through any of this. ‘m so, so sorry.”
“i know you are.” you whisper, loaded with a sincerity that only you could give him. “but you can never, ever treat me like this lando. i mean it.”
“i need you to know that i never meant to hurt you.” he swallows down a lump in his throat, voice wobbling just enough for you to notice.
“i do, lando.” you grab his hand, squeeze it tight.
“what do you want from me now? anything you want, i promise - i’m yours.”
“i want us to try, to see where this goes. i think we owe it to ourselves to see.”
“i never thought i’d ever get a chance with you.” lando laughs softly, the hand on your arm travelling to ghost over your cheek.
“why?”
“because i don’t think there’s anyone on this planet that’s good enough for you.” he confesses, leaning in until your foreheads touch.
“i don’t think that’s true, at least not where you’re concerned.” you breathe.
“how are you real?” it’s barely a whisper, barely audible, but it hits your ears like an alarm.
“don’t go all existential on me now.”
“then what should i do?”
“kiss me.”
“doesn’t that go against your whole ‘catch me off guard’ philosophy?” he murmurs, one hand reaching up to cup your jaw. your foreheads are still pressed together, eyes roaming each others.
“you’ll have plenty of time to surprise me.” you whisper.
you take a second to admire one another, the proximity mingling your warm breaths. when your lips finally brush, it’s slow, tentative, silent exploration. he tilts your head so that he can kiss you deeper, fingers sliding from your cheek into your hair. you emit a quiet moan, open up for him so he can taste you, and the feeling of him licking into your mouth sends your mind utterly blank.
he’s all consuming, totally intoxicating, a fresh blend of mint and something so blatantly lando that you feel like you’re floating. you find his neck, threading your fingers through the short strands at the nape of his neck. you hear something from deep in his chest, feel the vibrations of the low rumble as he presses you even closer to him.
when you inevitably break apart for air, he looks dazed, grinning like a fool as he smoothes his hand through the loose strands of your hair that fall around your face.
“i’m sorry that took so long.” lando hums, leaning in to peck your lips again. you can’t help but smile into it, in a daze of your own.
“me too.” you manage between smiling dopily up at him.
“you’re so beautiful.” he coos, still entranced. “you wanna stay here tonight?”
you hesitate for a second. he notices, interlacing your fingers with his.
“for the record, um, she never did. i couldn’t have her that close.” he mumbles, looking down at your hands guiltily.
“why?”
“didn’t feel right. she wasn’t,” he inhales shakily and meets your gaze again, piercing you with hazy blue hues. “she wasn’t you. i think that’s the real reason that i couldn’t… you know, with her.”
“i’ll stay.” you whisper, nodding softly. it’s all you can formulate as a response.
“i can make up the guest room.” he says wearily, posing it as more of a question than a statement, putting out the feelers. you scowl, eyes sparkling with a mischievous danger that leaves lando’s mouth bone dry.
“don’t bother.”
-
the grey linen of his bed sheets are soft against your skin as you sink into his mattress, watching intently as he pads around his room. you can smell him everywhere, a tangy, fresh musk that you want to bottle up and keep forever. lando glows in the dim, warm light of his bedroom and you feel a pang of regret that it’s taken this long to get here, muddled with a sense of relief that finally, you’ve made it.
“‘m gonna take a quick shower, okay? make yourself comfortable.” lando says, pauses for a second to take in the sight of you in his bed.
“okay.” you smile softly, eyes heavy with sleep as you relax further into the cushions. you hear the water running, white noise that allows your thoughts to run wild. the slide of the shower door grabs your attention and you think of him under the spray of water, bronze skin damp, hair slicked back.
when will it be your turn to see him like that, you wonder, musings of him pressed against you, bare and firm, flitting through your wandering mind. you realise, then, that you have him; he’s yours. why delay the inevitable?
slowly, you rise from the mattress, breathing shakily as your shirt comes off. your sweats follow, a trail of your clothes leading to the en-suite door. you can hear him humming to himself, the echo barrelling through your shaking body. you’re frantic with tension, a tinge of embarrassment, but then you consider his beautiful words, his confessions of love, and banish the feeling of shame that threatens to ruin you before you’ve even started. you unhook your bra, shimmy out of your panties, and grip the door handle. it turns slowly, steam spilling out of the room immediately, yet you shiver with anticipation.
“room for one more?” you call, and he jumps, turning suddenly.
you can’t make him out clearly, the fog painted across the shower door concealing his lean frame, and it draws you in closer, anticipation swirling in your belly.
he responds by sliding the door open, and you join him under the hot water. his eyes stay firmly on yours, body opening up to invite you in, hold you close as the spray hits you. the heat loosens your muscles, and you sink into him.
“fuck.” you hear him whisper, more to himself than to you.
“hi.” you breathe.
“am i dreaming?” lando blinks, a slow smile spreading across his face as he not so subtlety rakes his eyes over your frame.
“no,” you purr. “i’m real. this is real.”
his hands find your waist and you loop your arms around his neck, the kiss he pulls you into heated with a slow burning passion that makes you ache.
“you’re so pretty.” he pants into your mouth, firm and desperate - so sincere that it shakes you to your core.
“you’re perfect.” you choke out, mesmerised, alight in his thick hands.
“let me show you,” he starts, pauses briefly to kiss you. “wanna worship you.”
his words make you chase him for a kiss that doesn’t come. instead, he turns you to face away from him, your back to his front. you feel the cool spread of shower gel against your back, calloused hands working it into your skin gently. your hair, heavy with water, is pushed over your shoulder and you turn your head just enough to find his lips. your mouths move with intent as he works the soap down your back and over your waist. it tickles and you keen into him, enough that he holds you tighter, angles your hips away from his.
“careful, baby.” he warns lowly, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.
“don’t wanna be careful.” you half moan, but he grips your hips even harder.
“not tonight, yeah? let me look after you. need you to know that i’m serious about this.” lando pants, his self restraint thin as it hits your ears. you smirk.
“you back on your ‘good guy’ bullshit?” you tease, throwing him a look over your shoulder. you catch sight of his lip caught between his teeth, wet curls matted against his forehead, and a wave of pure need washes over your body.
“for you? fuck yeah.” he manages, crouches down to lather soap down your legs. his hands roam your inner thighs, dangerously, painfully close to where you really need him to touch you, and you groan defeatedly.
“you’re horrible.” you sigh when he’s back to his full height, facing you once more. he flashes you a cheeky smile, fingertips smoothing over your arms.
“wanna get this right.” he shrugs.
“we could get it right - right here, right now.” you pout.
“patience.” lando cautions, rubbing over your sternum. he grazes over the underside of your breasts, daring to go even higher. you let out a broken sigh, shuddering at his incessant attention.
“asshole.”
“we already knew that about me, baby.” he winks. he maintains eye contact as he cups your breasts, massages them just enough to leave you wanting. his touch vanishes, then, and the elastic band of tension seems to snap. “rinse off, i’ll leave a towel for you.”
just like that, he’s gone.
-
you stretch like a cat across the mattress, the low sun sending the early light streaming through a devastating crack in the curtains. it leaves you disoriented - the sun never hits your own bedroom like that.
quickly, you remember you’re not in your own bed, partly because of the heavy arm that sprawls over your tired body, pinning you to the mattress. his breath hits your bare shoulder in heavy puffs that warm your skin, leaving your tingling as your curl further into the curve of his body. your movements nudge his head into the crook of your neck, his nose bumping the sensitive skin there and he stirs slightly, puckers his lips into a gentle kiss at the base of your throat.
you roll over, his arm weighing heavy against the curve of your waist the whole time. when you’re face to face, his eyes are still closed, unfairly long eyelashes dusting his cheekbones, but a smile is painted languidly across his lips. he looks so soft, boyish, perfectly unreal that you snuggle closer to him.
“go back to sleep.” he groans, hardly opening his mouth as if it’s too much work in his cosy state.
“not tired anymore.” you whisper into the slight space still left between you. your lips find his jaw, trailing across it until you find a sensitive spot just below his ear. he shivers, but he still doesn’t open his eyes. you smirk, tracing your tongue carefully over the definition of his jawline. you suck, bite down gently.
“really?” he murmurs, still smiling like a fool, only intensified by your movements. you hum in response.
“go back to sleep, baby.” you coo, sealing the hickey you’ve left with a delicate kiss, one that contradicts the harsh mark you’ve left.
“drives me insane hearing you call me that.” he sighs, almost pained. the newfound friction against your thigh explains why.
“does it, baby?” you murmur, right in his ear.
“roll over, honey. get comfortable for me.” is all he says in return. electricity shoots down your spine as you oblige, resuming your previous position.
“that’s it, c’mere.” lando rasps, sliding impossibly closer. you can feel the full length of his body pressed against yours, heat seeping from his bronze skin onto yours. your eyes flutter shut, a delicious buzz coursing through you as the anticipation grows.
you can feel where he’s hard, solid against the curve of your ass and you keen into him, arched into his front as much as you possibly can be. your thighs clench together, liquid heat pooling between them. your mouth hangs open as his hand grazes the outside of your thigh, smoothing over the thickness of them before he pulls them apart. his hand slots between them - a perfect fit - and he wastes no time grazing his knuckles over the damp cloth of your panties.
“lando.” you sigh, utterly content. it’s been a long time coming, but it already seems like it was worth the wait.
“you’re so wet for me already. you want me?” lando growls against the shell shell of your ear.
“touch me, baby.” you plead, pressing your ass harder against him. he hisses, thumbs hard at your clit in response.
you mewl, squeezing your thighs around his hand but he forces them apart, his arm tensing as he does. you grip it hard, nails digging into his forearm but he doesn’t relent. he rubs firm circles into the bundle of nerves over your panties, fingers dipping down to press into the wet patch quickly pooling in the lace.
“take them off.” you urge.
he quickly complies, fingertips grazing your hips as he slides the material off of your frame. as one hand settles back between your thighs, two deft fingers pinching your clit, his other snakes under the old mclaren t-shirt he’d leant you. he traces the pudges of your belly, scaling up, up, up, tickling across your ribs until he caresses the curve of your breast, his whole hand engulfing it. he plucks a nipple between his fingers at the same time he slides a digit between your folds, spreading your wetness around.
“feeling good for me, honey? do you know how sexy you are for me, making a mess, wearing my shirt?” lando muses, dangerously low. his voice is strained, a side affect of the hold your have on him, of how entranced he is by the way you writhe against him.
“so good.” you choke, rolling your hips to meet his hand. “need more.”
“more? is my girl greedy?” he taunts, circling your entrance with the tip of his finger.
“please?” you’re not above begging him. it does the trick.
you both moan at the way he stretches you around one finger, the single digit sliding deep. he grinds it into you, palm nudging against your clit with every move he makes. one finger becomes two and you gasp out his name, your hand finding his under the shirt, holding it to your chest. he squeezes your flesh, tweaking at your nipple until it’s hard between his fingers and your ass is grinding faster into his crotch. when he moves on to your other breast, you choke out a moan that tears through the both of you, the tension so thick in the room that it’s stifling.
“c’mon baby, i need you inside of me.” you beg, your voice a pathetic garbled whine, one that makes him falter and suck in a harsh breath.
“not sure you can take it, pretty girl. so tight just around my fingers.” lando challenges, slowing his fingers so that you can hear exactly what he’s doing to you. he curls them with every thrust, reaching a spot that temporarily leaves you blinded in the throes of his searing touch. “you’re gonna cum for me like this first, yeah? and then we’ll see if you can take me.”
“can’t- lando please just-“
he shushes you.
“you’re gonna let me give it to you, honey. you’re gonna take it all, because you’re a good girl, right?” his voice is so condescending, so commanding that it makes you throb around him, his fingers flexing harder and faster as he senses your lurking orgasm. “that’s it, honey, i can feel you. come on.” he urges.
your body spasms hard against his as it hits, any semblance of sleep shaken out of you as you fall apart. he holds you close, rides you through it - palm flat on your overstimulated clit while his fingers gently coax you over the edge. he’s hitting every spot, toying with every piece of you he can get his hands on. the hand alternating between your tits roams up to your neck squeezing briefly, just to tease, before he cups your jaw, turning your head enough so he can capture your lips in a feral kiss. it’s needy, full of greed as he swallows your cries of pleasure, keeps them all for himself.
when you go limp against him, the coils of tension finally loosening, he slips his fingers out slowly. you’re panting against his chest, descending back to reality, when you hear the telltale hum, a soft pop - he’s sucking his fingers clean.
“taste so fucking good.” he finally speaks, slick fingers pushing your shirt up your body and you manoeuvre it over your head. it’s tossed away, lost to the shadowy room.
“lando,” you hum. “i’m ready.”
it’s a plea that he can’t ignore, the duvet rustling around you. you feel him kick off his boxers and then he’s pressing his cock against the curve of your ass once more. its big, leaking already, and your mind goes completely and utterly blank.
“you feel so good against me.” he notes, dazed at the sensation of your bare flesh warm against his. “you sure?” he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss against the base of your neck, his hands working to reposition your legs so that he can slip into you.
“never been more sure in my life.” you promise, tingling with the anticipation.
he’s so close that you can feel the pulsing heat of him between your parted thighs. the head of him nudges over your clit and he drags himself up and down, coating his cock with your wetness. you’re frustrated - ready to flip the two of you over, fuck yourself full, but he beats you to it. the stretch of him makes you gasp, knuckles white as you grip the soft bedding. when his hips meet yours, he pauses, teeth sinking into your shoulder, utterly overwhelmed. you’re not doing much better, one hand snaking up behind you to find his curls, tugging softly on the messy strands. he likes it, groaning into the marks he’s leaving on your shoulder, lips trailing messily up your neck.
the sunlight streams harshly through the crack in the curtain, momentarily blinding you. it leaves you with only the feeling of him, a golden haze invading your other senses. he’s gripping your hip so hard that you’re certain that you’ll be able to map out each of his fingerprints after.
“can i move?” he rasps, punctuating his request with a delicate kiss just below your ear. you shiver, clenching around him tight, and he bucks into you inadvertently. it sends sparks shooting up and down your spine, an electric wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut.
“you better.” you implore.
“you’re fucking perfect around me.” he grunts, beginning to build a rhythm. it’s one that leaves you both breathless, brainless, unable to utter anything besides the relentless chants of each-others names, the needy wanton moans that neither of you can hide.
lando’s hands are everywhere, your hips, your ass, wrapped around your sternum to pull you back into him, plunging himself even deeper into you. you claw blindly at any part of him you can reach, braindead from the way he’s fucking you. you and him are like a tidal wave, surging closer and closer to shore after years of dormancy, of an aching, crushing build up. now, as it peaks, it could destroy you, wash you away and leaves you nothing. you know he won’t. you know by the way he’s holding you, by the soft whimpers he lets you hear, by the way he makes you feel more alive than you have in months.
“i’m so close.” your voice quivers, pleasure bleeding into the edges of your words.
“i’m gonna get you there, pretty girl. you’re so good for me.” he promises, one hand slipping between your thighs. he finds your clit, plays with it between his fingers. messy swirls combined with precise flicks make you shake “i can feel you, honey. can feel you holding back. let it all out for me.”
he sounds wrecked, like he’ll die if he can’t feel you let go around him. you feel the start of your orgasm crawling from the tips of your toes, up your legs, and into the fire pit of your belly.
“that’s it, give it to me.” lando whispers, his voice so far away, even though he’s right there, talking you through it with his lips pressing the shell of your ear.
“i love you, lando.”
with that, you shatter into a million pieces, convulsing around him, against him, trying to get impossibly closer to him as you simultaneously try and squirm away. he holds you close, barrelling into you with fast, deep rolls of his hips. each thrust taps into your special spot, stars clouding your vision, his name the only word on your lips, the only word that has ever existed.
“where do you want it?” he asks quickly, urgently anticipating his own end.
“inside of me.” you pant, delirious, but he’s not in the space to do any critical thinking - you love him! - so he takes your words at face value.
a guttural groan hits your ears like a sonic boom, his body tight and firm against your sweat slick back. he squeezes you tight as he fills you up, submitting totally to the heat of your core, to the intoxicating way you draw him in.
“i love you, too.” he mumbles into your shoulder, kisses the words into your flushed skin. “i always have.”
he flops onto his back, slipping out of you carefully first, a lazy smile on his face. his eyes are shut, angelic once more as if he hadn’t been whispering filth into your ear just a minute prior.
“we gotta do more of that.” lando laughs, blindly reaching out for you. you slip into his welcoming arms, draping yourself over his body.
“think i need a shower. maybe you can make up for leaving me in there last night.” you giggle, agreeing that, yes, you absolutely need to do more of that.
he hugs you closer, a kiss placed atop your forehead.
“you can have anything you want, honey.”
-
phew.
-
taglist.
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dwaekkicidal · 4 months ago
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thinking about idol!skz making their cute little stay sign an NDA
wc» 4k (APPARENTLY???)
cw» fem & STAY!reader, orgy (9), multiple rounds for reader but all of skz goes once each, both mean & soft dom skz, fingering/finger fucking, recording with a phone, 1 protected & 2 unprotected p in v, oral (f briefly & m fully receiving), face fucking, facial, light cum play?
an» i reread this like 10 times but i still hate it idk why lol, but anyways pls note that im using their STAGE names, this is really unrealistic imo but im indulging for once in my writing career bc im a weak, weak woman
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shes so excited and has the biggest smile on her face, despite the fact that she knows there's mostly dirty stuff in the agreement. their manager stands nearby in the conference room, watching over every move from everyone. 'just in case'
and little does she know that the second she's done signing, they agreed to show her just why they're known for being one of, if not THE rowdiest idol group ever.
and then that sweet little smile pops up again and she pushes the signed form towards their manager. they wait patiently for a confirmation before even making the tiniest move. once they witness a nod and a bow in farewell from their manager, they smile to themselves.
lee know is the first to pounce, not even giving their manager time to walk out of the room.
the manager throws a plastic bag onto the middle of the conference table and heads to the door with some comments to the boys, and she watches as something thumps as the bag falls over and she faintly sees the shiny, square wrapper of something peeking out
lee know gives her a sickeningly sweet smile and helps her to her feet. she's confused as to why but doesn't exactly question it. she just assumes they're going to another room. and, well, it's not like she has the chance to really question anything.
not when her whole world spins and her cheek aches from the way shes all but slammed onto the conference table. and sure as hell not when her short, thin sundress is pulled up and bunched around her waist. and he wastes no time either!! it's like he's been waiting for that stupid piece of paper to get signed.
he knows it's all for the group's safety and that it was necessary for a "situation like this" or whatever crap his manager said. but that won't stop him from making you pay for it.
he's ruthless as he finger fucks you into oblivion right off the bat, leaving little comments here and there as his free hand digs into your neck, holding you down against the flat surface.
he curls both fingers directly into your g-spot and your orgasm takes you by surprise. you had no chance to warn him- or any of them- before you moan loudly and gush around his fingers. your legs kick up behind you in overstimulation, but he still doesn't let up right away. only once he remembers his other members are still there, he finally slides them out of you.
he's quick to get a taste and shoves his fingers past his lips, licking them clean as you attempt to catch your breath. you manage to shake off some of the surprise just in time for the sound of a chair scraping against the floor meeting your ears.
then you feel hands on your hips and youre spinning again. this time though, you're folded into a chair. lee know holds you against him and pulls your legs up to your chest, letting you sink down just the slightest bit and causing your head to rest against his pecs.
you're not sure what to expect until you notice i.n hovering over you. he runs the back of his fingers against your folds and laughs at the way your legs twitch from sensitivity. then he uses his free hand to stroke up and down your thigh before settling by your ass and using his thumb to spread you open.
he sits there for a moment and just takes in the sight of you just barely glistening and makes a noise of delight, as if he were eating his favorite meal.
he runs his fingers through your folds again, this time with more pressure, and teasingly dips the first few centimeters of his fingers into your hole before popping it back out and tracing little circles around your clit
eventually, amidst your whines and little hole twitches, he indulges you and sinks two of those long fingers into your walls. your legs twitch against lee know's hold and the elder squeezes your legs tighter before making some crude comment in your ear that you can't completely pick up behind the squelching of your pussy </3
i.n smiles to himself and moves his fingers roughly right off the bat. his fingertips dig meanly into your g-spot and you cry out loudly. your eyes focus on the maknae above you, taking in the crazy look in his eyes as he coos down at you in mockery of your whines.
and thanks to that, you miss the way a phone gets set up right where you just signed your life away. it's almost comedic the way they use the same tripod they use in their lives. but, again, you completely miss it.
and nobody can really blame you because the first orgasm that gets caught on the camera, literally seconds after the recording started, was enough to make your legs snap out of lee know's grasp.
i.n laughs and slows his fingers, letting you ride out that high for a moment and waiting for your legs to unclasp to pull his fingers out completely.
you think you understand now, and maybe it's onto the next, but that's not happening. not when this spoiled little brat doesn't move away from you. a few people even stand to claim their turn but, much to their dismay, i.n only sits in the same spot. in fact, he runs his fingers through your folds again, ready for a round 2- or... 3, i guess you could say.
and who are they to deny their little brother! after all, they are the ones who made him so spoiled in the first place. if they let him walk all over them without any punishment, you can't imagine the things he has planned for you.
a cry is ripped through your throat as his fingers dive in again at the same time that lee know hooks your legs over his, spreading you nice and wide for the room. the fingers just as mean as before and you can see his arms flexing as he tries to find another, deeper angle. one that he finds rather easily thanks to the telltale shivers from your body.
though, he's not really given much time to play with it as you cum again suddenly. you gasp loudly and he can tell it caught you off guard too, so he laughs and helps lee know hold your legs down and apart as he finger fucks you through this orgasm. he pulled his fingers out at the perfect time, right before it had actually became too much.
buuut, like stated earlier, they are the rowdiest group around. so did you actually think you would get a second to breathe? lol. maybe with one of the others, yes. but seungmin? yeah.... no. he actually pushes i.n out of the way, to the point where the youngest almost falls on the floor.
he then lands a brisk slap to your folds and wastes no time in shoving his fingers in, 3 of them to be exact. your eyes roll into the back of your head and one of your hands desperately digs your nails into his arm. he responds by pushing it away and landing another slap to your folds.
lee know laughs from behind you and hooks his forearm under your knee, hugging that leg to your chest and using his other hand to grip your wrist tightly. seungmin takes the chance and uses his free hand to push your other leg away, spreading you open while also pinning it up and away from you. the action makes you fall back against lee knows chest again.
his fingers are somehow rougher than the other 2 before him. you thought i.n was bad, but seungmin shows you no mercy. he even puts on a show for the others and leans down, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh thats just under lee know's arm
the action makes you whimper and clench around his fingers, taking him by surprise. he tests the waters and bites again, but harder. you clench yet again and the boys watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head
your mind is becoming foggy as you are forced to take everything the second youngest gives. and when you finally come for the 4th time, he pushes it even further and lands a sudden smack to your ass.
he pulls away slightly, his fingers drawing sticky shapes into your folds as mumbled chatter is heard. lee know pushes you to your feet and helps you stand up as a set of steps are walking towards you.
felix takes lee know's seat on the chair and pulls you onto his lap. you feel his hands on your hips, dragging your cunt back and forth along his cock, before you notice the man in front of you. han smiles sweetly, but when you blink you catch on to the menacing message behind it. even more so when he drops to his knees, eyes never leaving yours, and licks a long, slow stripe up your thigh.
felix giggles to himself when you shiver at the feeling and digs his fingers into your hips. he lifts you just enough for han to slide his cock inside of you. then he drops you down suddenly and hugs you to his chest.
you cry out at the suddenness and the room erupts in husky chuckles, some of them pulling their cocks out to jerk off at the sight of you getting broken in by their sunshine.
you get manhandled a little further, specifically felix positioning you so that he can fuck into you while giving han some space to work with. once they find the position that works, the pair give you no time to think.
han latches onto your clit immediately, sucking harshly and running his tongue in messy shapes against it. felix groans into your ear from the way you clench around him, but he uses it as motivation to start fucking into you.
the two hover you slightly above felix and give him space to start lifting his hips slowly- trying to find a rhythm that works for the awkward position. once he finds it, he digs his hands into your waist and starts fucking you harder, his tip hitting an angle similar to the one i.n had found earlier
your moan gets caught in your throat and you feel han smile against your mound at the sound. felix reads you like a book and fucks his hips in the same position, making sure to roll his hips slowly once he was sure that he found the right spot.
han nips at your clit softly one final time before standing to his feet again. he backs up and unbuckles his belt, never breaking eye contact with you, and smirks when he pulls his cock out.
the two move almost in sync and you're helped back onto your feet only to get pushed forward and shoved towards han's length. they hastily spit roast you and fuck you like there's no tomorrow- han's hand fisting your hair while the other holds both your wrists up and out of the way for felix, who squeezes your ass firmly before landing a playful smack to your thigh.
they take turns pushing you back onto the other, seesawing you like it's some sort of game until felix slows suddenly and finishes inside the condom you hadnt even realized he put on. he pulls away with no warning once he's done and you drop to your knees at the loss of your main support system.
han laughs and slaps his tip along your lips, then against your tongue when you poke it out obediently.
somebody on your side whistles at the sight and you feel your cheeks burn, only for it to fade once two hands rest on either cheek and use that grip as leverage to start fucking your throat.
its so sloppy, but thankfully isnt as rough as you'd have expected. he still fucks your throat roughly, but it's just enough for you to be able to look up at him under your lashes and run your tongue along his underside.
he groans and bites his lip at the feeling, eyes rolling until theyre closed as a drunk smile breaks out on his face. 'dirty girl.'
once han has you swallow his release, he crouches down in front of you and gives you a sweet peck on your cheek alongside a soft massage to your hips. he throws in a comment about how good you've been so far, only to get interrupted by one of the older boys.
but he can't really blame hyunjin for being impatient for his turn. i.n got two turns against everybody else's will so he's a little cranky that they're behind schedule.
he stalks towards you, a smirk painting his face as he helps you to your feet. hyunjin giggles as he pulls you into him and you stumble from your shaky legs. his pillowy lips push against your neck and you melt at the feeling, closing your eyes momentarily and forgetting about the other men surrounding you.
its short-lived, though, and hyunjin quickly releases your neck to spin you around and help you jump onto the table. his hand sneaks into the base of your head, grabbing onto what hair he can manage in a few seconds, and tugs your neck backward.
while he does that, his other arm wraps around your waist and holds you against his chest, making sure that you dont go anywhere.
he holds your head in a way that forces you to keep eye contact, and for a moment you’re confused as to why. but then he empties your head the second the thought comes to mind thanks to the way his cock slides through your folds
it makes your jaw drop and he mocks your expression, smiling at the end of it when you whine in embarrassment. he's so long. cock tearing up your insides already and he's not even started fucking you yet.
he starts off strong, his balls smack against your ass and the hand in your hair tightens, using the hold as leverage to hold you still so he can fuck into you even harder.
the hand on your back moves to your thigh, pushing one of them up and out of the way to give him more space to fuck you deeper. between your tightness nearly suffocating his cock and watching so much build-up, hyunjin already feels like his orgasm is close by.
and he’d be completely right, especially when your cunt makes so much of those gooey goodness noises and you leak around him like a faucet.
the hand in your hair tugs and angles you to the side. once he’s happy with the skin he can see, he leans forward and bites down on your collarbone. he leaves a few marks there before his hand releases your neck in favor of yanking your sundress over your tits. he would have half the mind to just take it off, but with his orgasm so close, he has something else on his mind.
he kisses your boob once and then kisses your nipple, he stays there just a moment before biting down on it softly and sucking harshly. your nipples were so sensitive from not being touched at all and it triggers your next orgasm. he rides it out by continuing to eagerly fuck into you and chase his own orgasm.
he finds it after leaving a few bite marks against your collarbone and groans into your ear as he fucks you through it, his hips stuttering each time you feel a warmth filling you.
he pulls away after some time passes and pulls out slowly, eyes glued to the sight of your cunt leaking his cum. he smiles and continues to stare at it for a moment, even going as far as to tease his tip through your folds and draw shapes into your clit with his messy tip. he dips it back in your hole one last time to get a reaction out of you before he’s pulled away by a hand on his shoulder.
your pussy is behind puffy at this point, but what do they care? this is what you agreed to, after all. and as much as changbin wants to feel bad for you, his cock aches so badly from something that only you and that pretty pussy of yours could fix.
he drags you off the table by your hips and flips you around, pushing you down against the table forcefully exactly like lee know did earlier. the only difference is this time, changbin shoves his cock in you all at once.
the sheer thickness of it makes you choke on your spit and dig your nails into the table. you push up to try and get a second to breathe, but he wraps his hand around your neck from behind and pulls you flat against his chest.
he mumbles something into your ear about how you need to stop running away from him, and how you need to take it or else he’ll give it to you 10 times harder.
and at first you listen perfectly! your body shakes and moves a little too much for his liking, but you obey rather nicely as he fucks you thoroughly.
you listen just fine until he lifts your hips just the slightest bit and a second pair of hands slides a folded-up sweater under your stomach, giving him a new, much better angle to ram into.
thats when you start to push back against him and disobey him.
he rolls his eyes and slams his hand against your ass, making you twitch farther away from him. he huffs under his breath and pulls you all the way onto his cock by your shoulders.
it makes him bottom out and your legs shake when he sits still, making you feel every last inch of him and every last throbbing vein along his length.
you clench around him unintentionally and it makes him loosen his hold on you, giving you some leeway to try wiggling away again. but he’s not gonna have any of that!! you’re supposed to be good.
so he drags his hands down your shoulders and down your arms until he gets to your wrists. once he wraps his hands around them, he pulls you up and forcefully arches your back as he holds your arms back near his stomach.
the new position gives him enough leverage to fuck you deeply while simultaneously preventing you from getting away from him, and with his rough eagerness, it's not a surprise that the both of you cum in the next few minutes.
he bottoms out one last time as he releases into you, emptying what feels like actual buckets into you and taking well over 15 seconds until his balls are done draining into you.
the feeling of being overfilled from multiple loads, one of which felt like gallons worth, and being bullied by his thick cock made your legs finally give out. changbin pulls out of you all of a sudden and neither of you has much time to react before your legs wobble and you fall to your knees.
he catches you as your knees hit the floor and he laughs to himself when you try to use the table to stand up, only to stumble again.
instead of helping you up, he grins smugly and watches as your legs tremble from your spot on the floor. even once he’s done, he still doesn’t help you up. he just backs away and leaves you to screw your head back on.
you really felt like you were finished, your brain was so fogged that you genuinely lost count of how many of them had brought you to an orgasm. not to mention you had no idea how many orgasms you even had.
but thankfully, it technically was the last- at least for your cunt (for now).
bang chan clears his throat to catch your attention and smiles sweetly at you from across the room when your eyes meet. he doesn’t move more than an inch, only tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrow at you in a way that makes you ache with need.
his eyes glance to his feet before returning to your face and you take a moment to process what he wants, your brain still foggy from the onslaught of orgasms you had to suddenly endure, but it clicks fast enough for him to smile even wider when you begin crawling over to him.
your face burns in embarrassment from the others watching, but chan’s thumb stroking your cheek once you settle between his thighs makes it worth every second.
“i’ll be the nice one and give you a break.” a few sounds of disapproval come from behind you, but inevitably die down when he glances towards them. he teases his thumb along your bottom lip and continues.
“that being said…” the thumb on his other hand pushes down on his cock through his pants before dipping under his hem. “i still deserve a turn, don’t ya think?” he pulls his pants and boxers down before you can say anything and you find yourself drooling at the sight of him. “i had to sit here and watch my boys break you in. it’s only fair”
he slaps his tip against your cheek a few times, laughing to himself at the action, then pushes himself past your lips. he groans quietly with a smile painting his face as you take him deeper on your own- all the way until you feel him in the back of your throat.
his hand pushes down against your head, making you deepthroat him. he revels in the feeling for a moment before loosening the pressure and helping you pull off.
he easily falls into a rhythm like this, lifting and pushing your head onto himself. his groans were enough to get you to push your legs together, the ache between your legs somehow coming back as you pleasure the “head of the house.” between his praises and pet names, you only felt more eager to suck him harder and cause his orgasm.
you completely forget everything around you until i.n. walks into your peripheral vision with a phone on a small tripod in his hand. your eyes snap to him, staring at the smile that's partially hidden behind the phone, before staring directly into the camera lens.
you can tell it affects him from the way his smile falters and he takes his lips between his teeth.
“eyes on me.”
your eyes immediately snap back to chan and you circle your tongue around his tip in apology. he smirks and furrows his eyebrows when your tongue traces the most prominent vein on him, a more sensitive spot for him.
he already felt close enough from that, but when you pull off him momentarily and stroke him so that you can run your tongue between his base and his balls, he completely loses it.
ropes of cum paint your face and you have to close your eyes to prevent any injury, and chan only groans louder at the sight, seemingly cumming even more from unintentionally painting your face.
once he’s finished and only your eyes are cleaned off, i.n walks up to you and grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your neck back to present your dirty face to the phone that was still recording.
somebody reaches from behind you and gathers some of chan's release on their finger only to shove it past your lips. you hum and the taste and shut your eyes in satisfaction.
all 3 men laugh and hyunjin speaks up as the mystery man, squeezing your cheeks together: "say cheese~"
they know they found the perfect toy when you smile drunkly into the lens <3
“now that that's out of our system... let’s go to a different room and talk more specific details through. this room reeks of cum-”
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Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght
@aeri-skzver
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thedropsofblood · 5 months ago
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A wolf in hunter's clothing
Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.
Word count: 8k
Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs
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Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.
Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.
As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.
It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?
The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.
It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?
.
.
.
Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?
Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...
You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?
Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?
You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.
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"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.
"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.
"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.
Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.
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"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."
The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.
"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.
You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."
You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.
"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.
This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.
Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.
That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.
You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."
You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.
"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.
Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.
You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.
He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.
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A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...
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starlightxsvt · 11 days ago
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Undue Influence | y.jh
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synopsis ➳ ❝ he is your sworn enemy. hell, you are literally at war with him right now. yet, you find yourself desiring him in a way that could be catastrophic. the only silver lining is that he might be feeling the same way towards you. or maybe it is all just a game.❞ pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x lawyer!jeonghan genre ➳ enemies to lovers, legal drama, smut wc ➳ 9.1k warnings ➳ this will have inaccurate descriptions of court and legal systems cuz i ain't no lawyer, lots of banter and sexual tension, cursing, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues, very brief hints of childhood trauma, corruption ig, kissing, dirty talking, fingering, one pussy slap, biting and teasing, Jeonghan himself is the biggest warning.
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“You Honour, he fucking sucks ass!”
The courtroom plunges into a suffocating void of silence, as if the very air has been swallowed by a black hole, leaving only the echo of your childish outburst. Thick, heavy silence that drags on endlessly, echoing your very professional sentence through the air in an endless spiral. 
You remain frozen in your place, your eyes locked with your opponent who stands before you with his arms crossed and a cocky smile that keeps growing by the second. He looks like a cat that ate the canary, and the urge to punch his stupid face grows within you violently.
“Counselor,” the judge clears her throat. You slowly turn your head to face her, mortification written all over your face. You find her glaring at you. “This is a courtroom, in case you forgot. Not a middle school playground.”
You hear Jeonghan snicker beside you and you force yourself to take a deep breath as you straighten the lapels of your suit and clear your throat. “My apologies, your Honour. It will not happen again.”
The challenging look Jeonghan throws at you foreshadows otherwise, and mentally, you imagine punching his face repeatedly and kicking him in the balls. With that calming image in your mind, you look at Mina, your plaintiff, reminding yourself why you are here. 
You have a job to do.
You cannot lose to Yoon Jeonghan. Not again.
“Defense Counsel, would you like to add anything more?”
Jeonghan’s challenging gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he addresses the judge. “Yes, Your Honour. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he makes a point by looking at you. “My client also loves his child, but let’s not kid ourselves— he can provide the future this child deserves.” He pauses to look directly into your eyes, that cold, ruthless gaze reappearing in his eyes, one that you hate with a passion beyond language. “My opponent may argue emotional bonds, but the reality is this: money makes the world go round. And a child with access to wealth will have the resources to thrive, no matter what. That’s the kind of future my client can provide.”
You grip the table behind you to distract yourself from the rage coursing through your veins. 
The silence weighs down like a lead blanket after his words, and in the suffocating stillness, you hear Mina sigh from behind you, and a piece of your heart breaks. 
Suddenly, you have the urge to cry. This feels familiar, like that case two years ago. 
You were representing a key witness, and Jeonghan was defending a wealthy, high-profile businessman accused of murder. His flawless legal strategy dismantled the evidence you worked so hard to find, and it was an easy victory for him. It made you second-guess everything you thought you knew about the law. You had never lost a case before, and that singular case shattered your sense of invincibility. 
Your boss called you a sore loser after you quit your job as a prosecutor, but there was no other option for you. Prosecuting left a bitter taste in your mouth. So you packed everything up and took a big step, opening your own law firm and starting your journey as a family lawyer.
So that you would never be in a situation like that.
Yet here you are again, up against the same man who made you question everything.
The judge’s voice brings you back to the present moment. “Plaintiff’s Counsel, would you like to add anything?”
You blink and swallow. “No, Your Honour.”
“Very well then,” she leans back in her chair. “The court will resume on Thursday, April 17th, for the final hearing. This session is now concluded.”
As the room slowly empties out, you silently stare at Mina, who looks up at you with shining eyes. “We are going to win, right?” She asks, her voice cracking.
You hate how you doubt yourself.
Blinking a few times, you compose yourself. “We will. Trust me. This isn’t over yet.”
It isn’t. Jeonghan plays dirty all the time, and now, for the first time in your career, you will not hesitate to play dirty either. You have to win this case. There is simply no other option.
— 
Judge Beatrice’s voice stops you in your tracks when you are on your way to the elevators. “What was that, Attorney ____?”
You immediately whip your back and, clasping your hands together in front of you, mutter out a meek apology. “I am really sorry about that, Madam.”
She steps closer to you, her black robes flowing elegantly along with her movements. “That was very unlike you, Attorney ____. You lost your composure the last day as well. Whatever issue you have with Attorney Yoon, you don’t bring them inside the courtroom, is that clear?”
You stare at the ground, chewing on your lower lip. “Yes, madam. I am extremely sorry.”
“I am letting this pass only because your father was a colleague and a teacher I respected dearly. You know I don’t let shit like that pass in my trials.”
“Yes, Madam. Of course.”
“Good,” she walks past you. “Have faith in yourself, Attorney. You can win this case.”
You stand motionless in your place as the judge walks past you and down the hallway before shutting the door to her office with a loud slam.
You exhale a breath you have been holding.
Your heels click rhythmically on the glossy floors as you make your way towards the elevators, just in time to see the doors of one closing. You immediately push the button to open them back up and immediately regret your decision.
The elevator is empty except for Yoon Jeonghan, who looks up as the doors reopen. The moment his eyes land on you, they sparkle vividly, like a hunter spotting an exotic animal they have been looking for all day.
Your feet pull the brake at the last second as you stand in front of the open doors, your eyes fixed on his face, while you go through a mental debate of whether you should get in or not.
“Attorney ____,” Jeonghan hums sweetly and you know it is anything but sweet. He steps aside and extends a hand, silently asking you to enter.
The fear of looking like a coward has you gritting your teeth as you step inside, ignoring him completely.
Keeping ample space between the two of you, you find your place at one corner, choosing to stare at the ceiling of the elevator. You avoid looking at his face because if you look at it too long, you get violent urges like smashing his head against a wall and cursing him out in every language that ever existed. So, you close your eyes and take in a deep breath as the doors close. It is barely a ten second elevator ride from the third floor. You will survive.
Except two seconds later, you realize you won’t.
With a sudden loud thunk and a heavy vibration, the elevator comes to a halt. A second later, the lights fizzle out, leaving only the dim strips of emergency light on in the ceiling.
How delightful.
None of you moves for a second as the realization of the situation dawns on you. Then, Jeonghan presses the emergency call button, and the voice of a security guard comes through.
“I’m really sorry. This elevator has been having some issues recently. Hang in there for a bit. This should be resolved within 10 minutes.” Someone says.
Lovely.
You grip the handle of your handbag tightly.
Today has been an exceptional day so far. What are the chances you get stuck with Yoon Jeonghan, out of all people, in an elevator?
“He said it’ll take ten minutes,” Jeonghan repeats the information, turning to look at you.
You ignore him and stare at the floor.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. You can feel his eyes on you, and you find yourself wishing it were pitch dark in here. “We’re stuck here for the next ten minutes if luck is on our side. If not, who knows how long? Might as well make the best of it.”
You huff out a breath before meeting his eyes with a glare. “You know what your problem is, Mr. Devil’s Advocate?”
His brows rise and an amused, cocky smile kisses his lips. 
You hate it. 
“I’d love to hear it.” He entertains you.
“You argue just to hear yourself talk. Doesn’t matter if you’re defending a cheating husband, a billionaire with a God complex, or…hell— a rock in the middle of the street. If someone pays you enough, suddenly that rock has rights and everyone else is just ‘too emotional’ to see the truth.”
He chuckles, tilting his head. “Hm, depends on the rock. Is it a trust fund rock or self-made?”
Your nostrils flare, and your hands curl into fists. “See? This— this is why I cannot tolerate your guts. I cannot believe I’m stuck in here with you…Yoon fucking Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan chuckles, and you narrow your eyes at him. His eyes linger on your face, making you feel hyperaware of yourself. He traces his index finger over his chin in a thoughtful manner, as if he is scrutinizing you. “You know, I think you yell at me so much because you secretly enjoy saying my name.” He states with a smirk.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Oh, absolutely. It’s my favourite curse word.”
He laughs, the sound lighthearted yet throaty, and you immediately look away for whatever reason.
“This case is clearly stressing you out, sweetheart.” He hums, casually calling you with a nickname. “You should relax.”
“Unlike someone, I actually care about my clients.” You stare at the doors.
“Mhm. I do too. Otherwise, I would not have taken this case.”
“Oh please,” you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. “Enough with the pretenses. Everyone knows Jun Gi is paying you millions for this.”
Jeonghan grins, flashing his teeth. “What can I say, I am just that good.”
You bite your tongue and stare at him silently, summoning all your hatred and disgust for him in your eyes. You whisper, “You’re shameless.”
He shrugs, nonchalant. 
A sigh of exhaustion parts from your lips, and you check your wristwatch for the nth time. Ten minutes are almost done. How much longer is it going to take?
“What’s the hurry, sweetheart?” Jeonghan singsongs. You grit your teeth, murmuring, “Words cannot describe how much I want to climb through the ceiling vent and leave you here.”
He flashes a grin. “That desperate to get away from me?”
“More like your huge ego.”
“You know what else is huge?” His smirk grows bigger as his eyes shine with mischief.
You scrunch your face in disgust.
“Why are you making that face?” His voice drips with innocence, but you know it's all an act. “I was going to say my winning streak. What was going on in that smart little brain of yours, dirty girl?” He raises a cocky brow, one of his hands working on loosening the knot of his tie. You were about to clap back by saying how unprofessional he is being, but his little action distracts you from saying the words out loud. They become a jumbled mess in your head as your eyes raptly trace the movement of his slender, bony fingers in the dimly lit space. He loosens his navy blue tie before unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, exposing his Adam's apple. 
For some reason, the view is hypnotizing, and you hate yourself for not being able to pry your eyes off him. At the same time, in the very back of your mind, an annoying part keeps repeating his words “dirty girl” over and over again.
What is wrong with you? The air must be thinning out in here.
Your gaze shifts from his neck to his face, and with sheer terror, you realize he has been staring at you all this time. Your heart drops and you immediately look away, wishing you were anywhere but here, stuck in an elevator with Jeonghan. The only man who pushes your buttons like nothing else. 
You don’t have to look at him to know there is a smug smile on his face.
“You keep looking at me, Attorney ____.” The statement is dripping with arrogance. You hate it. You wish it would go pitch black in here, and you could blend in with the darkness. Or, the elevator could just snap and fall down, and you would accept death happily rather than admitting that you were looking at Yoon Jeonghan.
Turns out you’re in luck this time because your wish immediately materializes with the sudden blinking of lights and a harsh jerk of the elevator that throws you off balance. You lose your footing and fall on the opposite side, right next to Jeonghan, clutching onto the handle to keep yourself stable. Then, the emergency lights fizzle out and it goes pitch black.
“Fuck,’’ he curses under his breath.
“I cannot believe I am going to die here, stuck with you,” you hiss, tightly gripping the handle. Your words lack the confidence you would have liked them to have because you don't like where this is going.
Be careful what you wish for!
“We are not going to die in here, okay?” Jeonghan’s voice has the conviction that yours lacked. Your reply is a grunt because, frankly, your mind is starting to spiral. 
Fortunately, the elevator makes another soft jerk, and the lights turn on again with a loud noise. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, and half a second later, you are hyper-aware of Jeonghan’s presence next to you.
He is so close that his arm is brushing against yours. He is so close that the scent of his cologne tickles your nose and momentarily puts you in a trance. Unconsciously, your head moves, turning sideways to look at him, only to find his face too close to yours, his eyes already trained on you like a hawk. 
Your heart skips a beat. As unnerving as it is to be in such proximity to him that you feel his breath caress your face, you find yourself stuck and completely unable to move.
“You know, you are quite beautiful up close.” He whispers. 
Your mind blanks out.
You need to do something— smack his face, shove him away, yell at him. Something. Anything. You realize you cannot exercise that will on your body because you keep gazing at him, counting the little moles on his face that you've never taken notice of. In the back of your mind, a quiet voice tells you that he is getting closer to you, his face inching nearer and nearer.
Is he going to kiss you? Why does the thought delight you and send your heart racing?
Briefly, you wonder if it’s your imagination, but no, he is actually getting closer to you. So close that even without his lips meeting yours, you can taste them, you can feel them and the sensation is electric.
Your eyes fall closed instinctively and you wait for a kiss that never comes.
Instead, what comes is the ping of the elevator, which you hear a second later. When you open your eyes, the doors are already open and two maintenance workers blink at the two of you curiously. 
Like you have been zapped by a current of a thousand bolts, you and Jeonghan fly away from each other. Jeonghan clears his throat while you straighten your jacket and look anywhere but at the two men standing outside.
“You folks okay?” One of them asks.
“Yeah. Any longer and it would not have been fun.” Jeonghan replies, his tone lighthearted. 
Why is he so unaffected? You can still hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums, and your face is radiating enough heat to make you sweaty.
One of the guys says something to Jeonghan, continuing the conversation and you use that time to march out of the elevator, your eyes focused on the ground as you fan your heated face.
Fuck, what were you about to do in there? Kiss Yoon Jeonghan?
God, no.
The thought sends shivers down your spine as you briskly continue your way to the parking lot next to the courthouse. 
As you are fishing your keys out of your handbag, Jeonghan’s voice makes you stop in your tracks. “Attorney ____!”
You are unsure whether it is shame that prevents you from turning around. You decide it is sheer mortification that leaves you unable to look him in the eye and so, you just turn your head to the left and wait, indicating that you have heard him and are waiting for him to continue.
“See you next Thursday,” Jeonghan says and you wish you could see the look on his face. Is he affected like you are? It sure doesn’t feel like that from his voice.
You pause for a second and, once sure he has nothing more to say, you continue marching towards your car. Without sparing a second and completely avoiding looking at where he stands, you pull your Audi out of the parking lot and zoom down the street. 
— 
It is the fifth anniversary of the law firm that Judge Beatrice’s son started. 
A party isn’t really your scene, especially when most of it is full of boring middle aged men, half of whom you cannot tolerate the guts of. So, you make yourself comfortable in a corner, staying near your colleagues and sipping on champagne instead of going around for the sake of formality. 
“Girl, slow down with the drinks.” Lara, your colleague eyes the new flute of champagne in your hand. You huff out a breath. “Please don’t. Let me drink this expensive but free champagne in peace.”
“Dinner isn’t for another hour, you know.” She reminds and before you can reply to her, you are interrupted.
“I didn’t know this was your type of scene, Attorney ____.” Jeonghan’s sudden voice prompts your shoulders to jerk. You turn around and find him standing right there, dressed in a formal three piece suit and slick back hair that makes him look unfairly good.
Fuck. Your fingers grip the flute tightly. For a brief second, your mind travels back to the heated moment you shared with him two days ago in the elevator. Against your wish, your eyes briefly flicker to his lips, but you force your gaze back to his eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Turning your back on him, you sip your champagne in one go. You find Lara looking at the two of you with narrowed eyes and before you can ask her to get you out of this, she struts away with a knowing smile. Jeonghan smoothly positions himself right next to you. “Oh, I just mean I have heard parties aren’t really your thing.” He aimlessly gestures with a hand around the space.
“Don’t know where you heard that from.” You murmur, picking up a flute off the tray as a waiter passes by. 
“I am not particularly a fan of parties either but I sure love it when I get to see you, Attorney ____, in a dress. In which, may I add, you look absolutely stunning.” He flashes a dashing smile.
You look away. “Hm,” you hum, “I pegged you as a party lover, honestly, Counselor Yoon.”
He gives you a dirty smile, leaning closer to you. “You would love to peg me, wouldn’t you?”
You half choke on your drink as blood rushes to your face. Jeonghan finds your reaction pleasing because he chuckles at you before finishing his drink in a quick gulp. Wiping your lips, you observe his profile for a while before setting down your flute and facing your body towards him.
“Are you flirting with me?” You cross your arms and cock a brow at him.
He smiles. Resting a hand on the table behind you, he leans closer and you instinctively pull back. Once again, his cologne assaults your senses, making your mind go blank. The perfume on him is different from the one he was wearing the other day. This one has strong notes of sandalwood and a bit of cinnamon, a dangerously addictive combination when it is on him.
“You tell me,” he drawls with a smirk. His eyes are bright, fiery pools of smoke and desire, so deep and hypnotising that your breath catches in your throat. “Am I allowed to flirt with you?”
You huff, trying your best to be annoyed as you shove him away softly. “Ugh, mind your business, Counselor. And stop invading my space.”
“If you wore a dress like this to court, I would let you win every damn case.” His eye contact doesn’t waver when he says the words.
They leave you stunned. You struggle to understand if he is just making fun of you or if he sincerely means them. You blink, watching him with a face that keeps warming up by the second, unable to say anything.
You are saved from the trouble when a few journalists, accompanied by photographers, ask for pictures of you two.
Ah, just what you were waiting for. 
One of the many things that you do not enjoy at parties like this is the abundance of journalists, going around with their cameras flashing and asking annoying questions. You find it pointless, especially because of know it is done mostly for flaunting.
Jeonghan smiles brightly, tugging you closer to him with a hand on the small of your back. His fingertips brush against the bare skin on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You try to put some distance between the two of you, but he keeps you close, grinning at the flashing camera.
A reporter asks you, “You are working against Attorney Yoon in a case right now. Could you tell us how it has been so far?”
“I think Attorney Yoon is a very competent lawyer. He is good at his job, like I am in mine.” You give a professional, practiced smile to the reporter.
“Wow,” Jeonghan raises a brow at you. “Such sweet words coming from you.”
The camera's flash and you smile while muttering under your breath. “If you believed them to be true, then you are not as good as you think you are, Lawyer Yoon.”
He simply chuckles and pulls you tighter against his body, posing for the cameras.
“Who do you think is going to win this case?” A reporter asks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. What kind of a question is that?
Jeonghan takes over, replying playfully but also professionally. “To know that, you need to wait till next week. Now, if you will excuse us, gentlemen.” He ushers you away from the reporters and towards a comparatively secluded part of the backyard, right next to the conservatory.
“Can you let go of my hand?” You huff, trying to free yourself. Jeonghan finally stops and turns around, regarding you with mischief, his solid grip still on your wrist. “Why? I promise I don’t bite.”
“Ew,” you tug your hand free and take a few steps away from him. You smooth out your dress, muttering underneath your breath, “I was stuck with you in an elevator this week. Can’t believe I am seeing you again so quickly.”
He pouts. “Aw, come on. You’re hurting my feelings.”
“Right,” your lips form a sarcastic smile. “Like you have those.”
Jeonghan does not reply and you try to pretend he is not right next to you, instead looking at the large estate of Judge Beatrice’s mansion. From this vantage point, you can see everything: from the manicured gardens to the sweeping line of tables draped in white linen, flickering lanterns dotting the pathway, and the silhouette of the live band. The scent of night-blooming jasmine wafts through the air, and every now and then, bursts of laughter rise above the steady, gentle hum of chatter among the guests.
“This place is actually beautiful.” Jeonghan comments.
“Yeah, when you don’t have reporters chasing after you, it is.” You reply, watching the last hues of sunset blend into the night sky. Despite having your sworn enemy right next to you, you feel oddly peaceful, a sense of tranquility settling in your heart like the hush after a summer storm.
“I have always wanted to own a mansion like this.” You find yourself whispering. Jeonghan turns his head to look at you and you feel his steady gaze piercing holes in the side of your face. Unable to resist yourself any longer, you turn your head to look at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he replies, voice laced with a foreign tenderness that feels melodic to your ears.
In the muted lights of the garden, his face appears lethally gorgeous and you are transported to that moment inside the elevator two days ago. The same feelings bubble up from deep within you, making your breaths short and heavy as you fight a battle against pressing your lips to his.
It feels like a losing battle.
He gently hums your name. Your proper name, not as your job title and the hairs on your neck stand up. Hearing your name from his mouth feels sinfully good, like a taboo and you are forced to meet his gaze.
With bated breath, you watch him come closer to you.
“Jeonghan,” the word falls from your lips like a plea, tentative yet needy, soft yet urgent. He inches even closer upon hearing the word, pressing his body snugly against yours, his hot breath fanning your face, only a few centimeters of space left between your lips and his.
His hand explores your body, caressing the back of your thigh before going upwards, resting a bit too long on your ass before slithering around your waist. As if you were not already close enough, he tugs you even closer and soft grunts your name once more, his eyes growing heavy-lidded as his gaze remains trained on your lips.
You can almost feel fireworks go off inside your body. You are feeling sensations and desires you have never felt before, and a tiny part of your brain raises alarm bells, but at this point, you are too gone to care. You can never go back to how it used to be with him after you cross this line.
Somehow, you find yourself being okay with that thought right now. You briefly wonder if it is all the drinks you had finally catching up to you.
Your hands that were frozen by your side until now finally relax, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and resting your forehead against his. Your body finds a place next to him so easily and gracefully, it’s like you have always been together. Like yin and yang.
He inhales sharply and utters your name, his voice heavy with desire.
You make up your mind in that moment.
Without wasting another breath, you pull his face towards you and kiss him, slowly at first but it changes into quick and desperate as Jeonghan’s hands cup your jaw and tilt your face up to get better access. He completely takes over the kiss and your body, pushing your back against the wall of the conservatory and kissing you like he had been wanting to do it for ages. It feels like he is a man starved and you are his beacon of light, the way his hand grips your waist and pulls you impossibly close while devouring your lips. His tongue is in your mouth, tasting every inch of you and it is absolutely glorious; a breathtaking combination of all of your wildest fantasies combined. It is hard, bruising and wanton, taking your breath away yet leaving you feeling a high unlike ever before.
When he finally pulls away, the two of you gasp for air, faces flushed with heat and sweat. His eyes stay locked with yours and you clearly see the desire pool in them like molten lava. You know for a fact that he sees the same in you. You hate Jeonghan, you truly do but you have never wanted a man as much as you want him.
So much so that when he starts tugging you with him, you don’t question him or protest. Silently, he pulls you towards the entrance of the conservatory. He tugs on the door, and it comes open, surprising you. With the door closed and away from the noise and the crowd, his lips find yours with ease even in the darkness. One of his lands feels the skin of your thigh underneath the slit of your dress, his fingers gripping and squeezing your flesh while his other hand holds your face, tracing the slopes and edges of your jaw and neck with his thumbs.
“Jeonghan,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and pulling it closer to your core. His fingers brush over your panties and you shudder, burying your face in his neck.
“You want my fingers here, sweetheart?” His voice is deep as he starts tracing his mouth from your jaw to your neck. You make a barely cohesive sound of agreement and then, baffling you, he slaps your pussy, hard. Your mouth hangs open in shock and mortification, the sting of his slap leaving behind a delicious tingle.
“Answer me,” he whispers next to your ear, nibbling on the skin below your earlobe. Another sigh of pleasure falls from your lips, your eyes falling closed at his ministrations. “Yes,” you whisper. 
“You have it.” He hisses and, in one smooth motion, he pulls your panties aside and thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting his jacket tightly as his digits easily slip in due to your arousal. “Oh god.” You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his fingers move in and out of you with ease, hitting the perfect spot each time. Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he’s sending your way, you know you’re not very far from your release. You are so aroused it is embarrassing but by now, you have gone past the point of caring.
He speeds up the movement of his fingers and you squeak, “Fuck, Jeonghan. I’m gonna…”
He chuckles. “So quickly, sweetheart? Are my fingers that good?”
“Mhm,” you hum, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing onto his body like he is your lifeline. Come then. Wet my fingers with your sweet juice,” His filthy words make you moan out loud involuntarily, his thumb brushing over your clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your orgasm.
It shakes your limbs as you stand there pressed against his body, feeling it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly while he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally feel the last of your orgasm ebb away and your mind starts functioning again, Jeonghan pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you.
You shiver, whether from the intimate act or from the cold, you don’t know.
Jeonghan watches you silently, his eyes carefully taking in every detail of your face. You see his gaze shift in the dimly lit space, a slither of light coming from outside falling directly on his face, casting it in a heavenly glow and adding a new shine to his wet lips. For a moment, your mind blanks out, transfixed by his beauty and the hum of pleasure echoing through your body. When the beating of your heart finally slows down and the high of your release starts wearing off, a chill runs down your spine and you grow cold.
The realization of what you just did hits you like a ton of bricks and you freeze, staring at him blankly.
Fuck. That should not have happened. He is a walking, talking red flag and you just got dirty with him. Hell, you’re going up against him in court next week!
Fuck, fuck.
This is the man you lost to. This man is your sworn enemy. You should not have let him in.
Especially…especially because deep down in your heart, you feel something for him that is serious and sincere. Past all your history and professional war, you feel something for him and after tonight, you know it will only amplify.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
Jeonghan leans closer to you, the glint of mischief returning in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but in a moment of panic, you shove him away and hurriedly fix the strap of your dress.
“I need to leave,” you announce in a broken voice, pushing past him and scurrying out the door. You take the back exit, marching away from the party as fast as possible while trying to keep your tears at bay.
Silly, silly girl.
The sky is gloomy today, much like your mood.
You stand in the hallway of the courthouse, pensively gazing out the window, your body humming with nerves. After your encounter with Jeonghan, your weekend sucked. With the memory of that night branded in your brain, you ran around nonstop, trying to gather some solid evidence against Jun Gi. 
You wish you could have done better.
The sound of heavy footsteps steals your attention as you turn around to find Jeonghan walking towards you.
You freeze in your spot, your hands gripping your handbag in a deathly hold as he comes closer and closer.
“Hey, ____.” Your name casually rolls off his tongue and for a moment, you struggle to find your voice. He looks as gorgeous as ever with his hair slicked back and dressed in a fine black three-piece suit. His face, as usual, gives nothing away, radiating composure and ease.
He looks lethal and you hate it.
“About that night at the party,” You find yourself speaking. “I hope you forget that. I just had one too many drinks. That’s all.”
Jeonghan blinks, slowly registering your words. “Wait, are you saying that it was a mistake?”
You clench your teeth and scowl at him, “Yes.”
“Ha,” Jeonghan scoffs, his mouth parting in shock. He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair, disheveling the styled locks. “Fuck, really?”
“Yes,” you hiss. “And I hope you won’t bring that up ever again, Mr. Yoon.” You don’t wait for his reply, shooting a final glare at him before marching down the hallway. 
It was a mistake. It was a mistake. You keep chanting the words over and over again in your head, trying to believe them.
The effort is futile because you believe otherwise. To you, it meant more. Sure, it was a moment of weakness, a lapse in your judgment. However, over the weekend, upon reflection, you realized that you have feelings for the insufferable, egotistical man.
There is no room for those feelings right now.
You have a case to win. If you lose today, you will not only lose to Jeonghan for the second time but also a mother will lose her child.
So, no room for feelings.
— 
Your closing statement feels heavy on your tongue, especially when you see Mina’s glossy eyes directed at you, hopeful yet petrified and you feel the crushing guilt overtake your entire being. You should have done better.
The financial statements of her ex-husband are the only weapon you managed to secure. He’s a powerful man, meticulously guarded. Digging up dirt on him has been like searching for a needle in a haystack. The few precious pieces of footage you submitted, like glimpses of his reckless lifestyle, wild spending sprees, late-night parties with young women, and drinking until dawn, you hope, are enough to plant a seed of doubt. It’s not much, but it’s a spark of hope you hold onto, praying that it just might turn the tide in your favour. So, you go with that.
You take a deep breath. “Your Honour, the primary concern in this case is the well-being of the child. The father’s spending habits reveal a pattern of reckless prioritisation— purchasing luxury items and throwing expensive parties while neglecting his son’s care. Parenting requires more than financial security; it demands consistent presence and responsibility, which my client has consistently demonstrated.
Additionally, we cannot ignore the situation with the nanny, Jeanie. Initially willing to testify, she suddenly withdrew without explanation. It is a suspicious change that raises concerns about potential interference. This only reinforces the need for caution when considering the father’s ability to provide a stable environment. So I urge the court to grant primary custody to the mother, ensuring the child’s best interests are prioritized. Thank you.”
You do not find any power in you to look at the judge’s face or anyone’s in the courtroom. Silently, you pad over to your bench and sit down next to Mina, your eyes trained on the ground. One of her hands comes to rest on top of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze of reassurance. 
Judge Beatrice asks, “Defense counsel, your final statements, please.”
“Yes, your Honour,” Jeonghan responds, standing up and buttoning his jacket. “But before that, I would like to apologize for the unexpected request at this stage. Some new information has come to light that I believe is crucial to this case. With the court’s permission, I would like to call an additional witness, Ms. Jeanie Miller, the child’s nanny.”
Shocked and bewildered at his statement, your head snaps up. 
“There was no mention of having a witness at the stand today,” Judge Beatrice says flatly.
“I understand the unusual nature of this late request, but given the gravity of the custody decision, it is imperative that the court hears her testimony,” Jeonghan states firmly.
"Wait, what?" Gun Ji stands up from his seat beside Jeonghan, a look of panic on his face. "That...that's not necessary!" Jeonghan ignores him, calmly keeping his eyes focused on judge Beatrice.
She gives him a long, keen look. “Fine, bring her in.” 
“After thoroughly reviewing the evidence presented and carefully considering the testimonies, this court determines that the child’s best interests must take precedence. Therefore, the court rules that the primary physical and legal custody of the minor child be granted to the mother. The father shall be given reasonable visitation rights as determined by the parenting plan. Court is adjourned.” Judge Beatrice finishes. The sound of her striking the gavel echoes through the courtroom. Beside you, Mina yelps out, her voice full of glee and unshed tears as she jumps up before engulfing you in a hug. However, everything surrounding you has faded into the background as you keep staring at Jeonghan on the other side, his face composed and content even.
His eyes meet yours and he nods, giving you a soft, subtle smile that almost feels like a mirage.
Is this a dream?
You just won this case. You won against Yoon Jeonghan.
But why does it not feel like a victory at all?
He yielded. He brought Jeanie in court and had her testify against his client at the very last moment.
Why?
A bitter taste of betrayal is left in your mouth as you watch him ignore Jun Gi’s yelling. It feels like you did not earn the victory but rather, it was handed to you.
The feeling is sickening.
With everyone gone, the courtroom is empty now, except for you and Jeonghan.
Your files lay spread out on the table but you don’t bother arranging them. You should have been out of here by now, going on with your day and even make plans to celebrate your victory. For some reason, though, you could not leave.
You stand with your arms crossed and watch Jeonghan, his back facing you, as he arranges all his files and puts them in his briefcase one by one while talking over the phone.
“Yes, I can be there in an hour…Okay, see you then.” He hangs up and sets the phone down, tilting his head to glance at you. “Congratulations, Lawyer ___.”
His words sound like sarcasm.
“Why did you let me win, Jeonghan?” Your voice is flat.
He turns around and frowns. “What do you mean, 'let you win'?” 
“You know very well what I mean,” you sneer, stepping closer to him, your heels clicking loudly. “Why did you yield? You have never done that before, and you have represented far worse people. What, getting in my pants changed your mind? You thought I would let you hit if you let me have this case?”
His mouth falls open, his eyes widening in disbelief. 
“Answer me, asshole!”
“You are better than this,” he replies, his tone quiet but his gaze turbulent, a swirl of emotions shining in his pupils. “You know better than this.” He pauses before scrunching up his face. “Let me hit? What…How could you even say that? Sure, I am a scumbag but even for me that’s low. You know I respect you.”
“Do you? You hiss, getting up in his face. “Do you really, Mr. Money Talks? Since I have known you, you have never done something nice without an ulterior motive. Tell me, what was it this time?”
“I have had enough of this conversation,” he grunts, turning away to finish packing his belongings. 
“Oh, I am sure you have. Now that I have seen through your shit, I bet you’re done, you pathetic asshole.”
He does not make a sound as he finishes packing, the sound of his briefcase shutting leaving an echoing boom in the thick, looming silence. Without acknowledging your presence, he starts walking away and you scoff in utter disbelief. His quiet footsteps echo through the courtroom, leaving behind a sense of emptiness and rage inside you that you don't know how to grapple with.
When he is almost at the door, he turns around and stares at you blankly. “For what it is worth, I really do respect you.”
The door slams quietly behind him.
1 week later
You stroll through the bustling streets of late-night Seoul, the faint hum of traffic mixing with the distant chatter of people at the little roadside shops, drinking with their friends. The air is slightly chilly, but comfortable, just enough to make you pull your coat a little tighter around you. 
It has been a week since your victory. Throughout the week, you have waited for that feeling of accomplishment to come to you, the sense that will force you to look on the bright side. It has not come. 
Victory should feel sweeter than this. You won the case, defending your client with everything you had. Yet, as you weave through the crowd, your thoughts keep drifting back to him— Jeonghan. You can’t help it. You keep revisiting your last interaction with him; that pained look in his eyes and the quiet depth of his words. It gave you a glimpse of a Jeonghan you never saw before, one you thought did not exist— one who has a heart.
You tell yourself it’s just the lingering adrenaline of a hard-fought case, but it bothers you more than you’d like to admit. So much so that you feel tempted to pick up your phone and just call him.
“____!” A sudden loud voice makes you jolt as you stop on the pavement and look around. You spot Kai, a law school friend and Jeonghan's colleague, sitting at one of the roadside restaurants, holding a bottle of soju with one hand and waving at you with the other.
You smile and walk over to him.
“Sit. Have a drink. It has been a while since we had a chat,” he smiles, offering you a seat. You grab a blue plastic tool and sit, eyeing the empty shot glass and some leftover food on a plate next to him. You tease him, “What? Got ditched by your date?” 
He snorts, pouring you a shot. “By date, if you mean Jeonghan, then yeah, sure.”
Your ears perk and you sit up straight. “Jeonghan was here?”
He hums, pushing a glass towards you. “Yep, he just left.” He downs a shot and makes a noise of satisfaction. “This guy, I swear to god. He’s been weird all week. Right after the hearing on Thursday, Jun Gi stormed into the office, calling him a traitor and whatnot. Jeonghan didn’t even flinch. Just sat there, cool as always.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink. “At some point, the guy shoved him. And, get this— Jeonghan threw a punch. Didn’t even hesitate. I swear I’ve never seen him like that. Gave Jun Gi a black eye and then kicked him out the door in front of everyone. Insane, right?”
Holy shit. You gape at Kai. “Jeonghan... hit him? His client?”
“Ex client, but yeah, he did. He never loses his cool like that, you know. I tried talking to him, but he just shrugged it off. I think this case messed with his head. Not like him to get that... involved.” You sit on the rickety plastic stool, stunned. The nagging in your brain finally becomes too much to ignore and you ask, “Did he say where he was going?" “Jeonghan? He’ll probably catch the bus. You know the stop two blocks down that runs till midnight.”
Your heart starts racing. “Thanks, Kai,” you murmur, quickly chugging a shot down before hurrying down the sidewalk. You pick up your pace, the chill of the night air pushing you forward despite the uncomfortable feeling of your heels digging into your feet. You don’t know what you’ll say to Jeonghan when you find him— you just know you have to.
You start running at full speed, pushing through the busy sidewalk and murmuring apologies to the people you bump into. The bus stop comes into view, fairly empty, and your heart stops, realizing you missed Jeonghan. However, a second later, your view gets clearer and you spot the man standing there with a cigarette between his lips, his jacket slung over his shoulders as he looks around with boredom.
“You!” You charge at him, yelling. “You! Explain. What really happened that day? Why did you change your mind?” You pant, catching your breath when you finally stop in front of him.
Jeonghan, busy blowing out a thin stream of smoke, whips his head upon hearing your voice, shock flashing in his gaze. His half-lidded eyes widen, before he frowns, “What the hell are you doing here?’’
“Answer me, Jeonghan.” You glare at him, still gasping for air. “What happened that day in court?” He keeps staring at you with keen eyes that make you feel like he can see through you, reading your innermost thoughts. He takes a drag of his cigarette before speaking, his voice smooth as always. “Since you're so curious...I did my duty at first, you know. I believed my client. That’s what a lawyer does…even when everything else tells you your client is a bastard.” “But you knew that from the very beginning. You knew he wasn’t fit to take care of his son. You don’t just flip like that. What made you change your mind?”
Jeonghan pauses, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze trained on the poison stick thoughtfully. “Look, I’ve defended plenty of rich idiots. Comes with the job. But this one... he just slipped up.” You raise a brow. “Slipped up?”
He smirks, but rather than the usual cockiness, there’s a shadow behind it that leaves you wondering. “Let’s just say I overheard him running his mouth on the phone. Something about how he didn’t really care about the kid. He just didn’t want to ‘lose’ to his ex-wife. Didn’t matter if his kid hated him. As long as he came out on top, he was happy.”
You frown, processing the information. Jeonghan flicks the ash off his cigarette, his tone a bit sharper now. “Turns out our model father also bribed the nanny to keep her mouth shut. When I got her alone and told her I’d keep her safe if she talked... well, a lot more things came into light.”
You hold your breath. “Was he…abusing him?”
Jeonghan huffs out. “Let me know if Mina wants to file a case against him. I have enough evidence to make her win.”
Fuck. You sigh, your gaze trained on the gravel of the pavement. “So that’s why you went against your client.”
Jeonghan scoffs lightly, still not looking directly at you. “Don’t make it sound noble. It was just bad strategy to keep lying when the truth was that obvious.”
You fold your arms and narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not that selfless. You don’t just risk your reputation for a lost cause.” Jeonghan remains silent for a beat, his jaw tightening before he finally looks at you, something unguarded flashing in his eyes. “Let’s just say... I’ve seen that look before. In that kid. Eyes that don’t know whether to hate or hold on because neither makes sense when your old man never really gave a damn. Figured I didn’t want to see another kid grow up wondering why he wasn’t enough.” He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, but the hint of vulnerability lingers. You catch it— just a flicker before his usual cocky smirk slides back into place. “Jeonghan…” “Don’t get all sentimental on me now. The kid just deserved better. That’s all.”
He takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it to the ground, crushing it under his heel as you silently watch him. The tension between you lingers, charged and unresolved. You want to say a lot of things to him, but you don’t know where to start. It feels like a cactus is lodged in your throat, pricking at your skin every time a word manifests on your tongue.
“I’m sorry!” You blurt out. Jeonghan’s head turns towards you slowly, his eyes blown out like he just saw Santa Claus flying through the sky. 
“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes.
You bite your lip. “I… am sorry. For the things I said that day. For…I don’t know…Everything, I guess.”
He keeps staring at you like you have grown two heads and you drawl out a groan. “Can you not stare at me like that?”
“I am…lost for words.”
You try to make a joke. “Wow, very unlike Yoon Jeonghan to be left speechless.��
“You tend to do that to me,” he murmurs so softly as if he did not want you to hear it but you do, and your heart starts drumming loudly in your ears. His eyes never stray from you as he flicks the cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the heel of his shoe.
Then, he takes a step towards you.
You don’t step back, looking up at his eyes, slightly breathless. His eyes shine, mirroring the lights of late-night Seoul and something deeper, something foreign. It is a look you have never seen before that fills you with hope and joy.
Jeonghan’s hand reaches for yours, his fingertips ever so slightly tracing the lengths of your fingers and your knuckles, giving you goosebumps.
“Your words really hurt that day, you know,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes deeply intimate. He comes even closer to you and you love it. You love having him in your personal space, feeling the warmth radiating off him, the smell of his cologne and cigarette mixing into an addictive scent. “But, now that you are looking at me like that, with those beautiful eyes of yours,” he pauses, tantalizingly slowly linking his fingers with yours. His tone is serious but also contains a softness that makes heat pool in your belly, “I have no choice but to forgive you.”
You make a broken sound of acknowledgement. Too busy trying to get your heart to calm down. You feel like a giddy teenager, ready to have your first kiss.
And boy, do you want to kiss him.
“But,” he pauses and you hold your breath. “When you say you’re sorry for the things you said that day…does it also include that?”
“What?” You blink.
“You said it was a mistake. Are you sorry for saying that?”
Your breath stops. You gaze into his eyes, deep, dark pools of honey and you feel a sense of vulnerability grow in you. Unconsciously, you hold his hand tighter when you whisper, “Jeonghan?”
“Hm?” He leans closer to you and it physically hurts not to kiss him.
“That night…was it a mistake for you?”
He remains silent, looking at you unblinking. His eyes search your face for something you don’t understand.
“No, it was not, ____.” He says quietly but the conviction in his voice is louder than anything. “I meant every word I said that night and I do not regret having my fingers deep inside your cunt. In fact, I crave to do it again.” Only Jeonghan can say something so filthy with so much emotion. Your breath stutters and heat blooms all over your skin as you fight to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Me too,” you whisper, hypnotized by his gaze. “It was not a mistake. I am sorry I said it was.”
The look in his eyes instantly darkens. His free hand snakes around your waist, pulling your body tight against his. Your arms find home around his neck and your eyes trail to his lips before you whisper, “I want to kiss you, Jeonghan.”
“What’s holding you back?”
Nothing.
You lean upwards just slightly and press your lips to his. His arms engulf you, pulling you in deeper into the kiss. It is perfect, it is magical. The taste of cigarette in his tongue, the caress of his thumb on your lower back, the feeling of his warmth encompassing you whole— it is all perfect.
The signature cocky smile is back on his lips when you break the kiss, that familiar mischief twinkling in his eyes. You cannot help but smile. 
“Wow, Lawyer ____.” He is grinning. “Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?”
You feel giddy.
“Not so fast, Counselor. At least take me on a date first.” You tease, adjusting his collars. He leans down to come to your eye level. “How about this? You come home with me tonight and stay over. In the morning, I’ll take you out for breakfast. In fact, we will spend the whole day outside.”
“Sounds like a date,” you mumble, looking into his eyes.
“Yes, it is.” He hums, leaning back. His hand finds yours and interlocking your fingers, he starts walking. 
“You’re not going to take the bus?” You ask, trailing after him. He has that incredulous, love-struck smile on his face. “Nah. I feel like walking with you. What do you say? Shall we take the long road?”
You grin. “Yes.”
© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.
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A/N: what was originally a 6k word fic turned out to be almost 10k. whew! i feel like i wrote another fic set in sibilance universe unintentionally. bc Jeonghan was a lawyer over there too?? anyway, i hope this was an enjoyable read. i'd love to hear your thoughts so do comment or drop an ask! as always, please like and reblog! toodles!<3
984 notes · View notes
jinwoosbabyboo · 27 days ago
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𝚂𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎
My personal headcanons to how the LADS Men react to being flirted with and if you ave to step in and save them or not. [Requested by: goddessesofeverything]
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Your man was perfect. A one of one without a doubt. From his character to how he treated you was immaculate. The fact that he was absolutely stunning was a cherry on top. From the slope of his nose to the strong veiny hands that handled you as if you were fine china. You could admire him for hours and never get tired of looking at him. He was a dream come true and too good to be true all in one.
However, you never doubted him or ever felt insecure in your relationship which is why seeing women constantly staring and swooning didn’t bother you. A few of them flirted from time to time and you laughed every time you watched their flirty smiles turn to shock or disgust when they were immediately shot down by your man.
Usually it only takes the initial rejection to keep them from coming back, but some are a little more persistent. So who better to save him than you.
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𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎
acts dense when someone flirts with him
so monotone during the conversation the person flirting ends up awkwardly walking away
tells you what they said and you have to tell him “yea Zayne she was flirting with you”
the type to just walk away if he feels uncomfortable
gives you a look when you stand by and giggle while his eyes are screaming for help
the times when you step in the save him he smiles to himself with butterflies in his stomach.
the type to definitely name drop “My wife is right over there” "I'd rather have drinks with my wife" even if you're not married yet he would say this just to make your relationship more serious
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𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕
a master manipulator right here he can play the part so his faux kindness can get taken for flirting
when you’re not around he is rude as hell
when you’re around he’s dramatic as hell with it
“My girlfriend can fight” “Unhand me!” “My girl will kill you and me so I suggest you walk away or you better get right with God because you’re about to meet him”
expects you to come to his rescue every. single. time.
the type to run and I mean literally run and hide behind you “that lady is trying to get me!” “Raf… “Don’t let me get took!”
if you don’t verbally abuse the person flirting with him he’ll bring it up any chance he gets
throws a fit when you just watch instead of helping “Why do you hate me?” “I don’t hate you” “So you just don’t care about me huh?!” “Here you go” “No no it’s fine when I get kidnapped by a crazy fan I hope you feel terrible”
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𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛
Responds to the flirting with confusion or just stares
Brings them to you and says “Do you know her?”
Unintentionally makes the situation so awkward for them that they end up walking away
name drops if they’re too persistent “I only eat with my girlfriend and you’re not her” “My girlfriend is waiting for me”
if someone flirts with him while you’re there expect to get those big doe eyes if you don’t step in “Were you going to let her flirt with me?” “I trust you” “Save me next time”
complains to you about being tired after the encounter
doesn’t say it but deep down he wants you to be jealous like he is when some guy simply talks to you
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𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜
9 times out of 10 he doesn’t get approached directly ; usually notes or a small gift sent his way
on the rare occasion he does get approached he’s sassy but it just sounds like they’re being scolded by their boss “You’re quite brazen wouldn’t you agree?” “Did you run through the possibilities that I'm not for the taking?”
quick to mention he’s taken and will tell you everything that she’s saying
if you are there to witness someone flirting with him he’d simply stare at you the entire time “Would you really let another woman have me?” “As if anyone can take you from me”
doing a mental happy dance when you do step in to save him from bold harlot who has the audacity to flirt with him right in front of you
will be sarcastic as hell when asking why you didn’t step in sooner “What took so long? What if she threw me in her car and drove off?” “If someone ever managed to throw you anywhere it’s because you let them” “I thought you’d grown tired of me for a minute there” “Are you done?”
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𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋
is honestly used to having girls throw themselves at him so he’s a pro at ignoring it
wants you to step in but you never do because he’ll tease you about it later “Were you even slightly worried I'd be swayed by her?” “Let's see she’s twirling her hair in your face while you’re happily pulling mine out of your ass crack in the shower so no i'm not worried” silenced his ass
100% name drops if they’re too persistent “My girlfriend will kill you and me I suggest you back up” “I’M MARRIED!” “My girlfriend is right there”
jokes about wanting praise when he rejects someone “Don’t I get a kiss for my valiant effort?” “For doing the bare minimum?” “I wouldn’t say it was the bare minimum” “How about you just don’t say anything you're so handsome when you shut the fuck up”
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751 notes · View notes
sooniebby · 1 year ago
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ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
w.c. › 4.9k
Plot › if you had told yourself six weeks ago, that you would meet the camboy you’ve been faping for a year, you’d laugh. But meeting Gojo was a curse from God. Part 2 of this post!
Warnings › same as before. Gojo is a little shit and very annoying. A bit of dubious consent at first since reader doesn’t say “yes”. Nothing extreme. How yall not notice the porn I linked in p.1 though? Smh
Kinks › size kink, praise, rough sex, lite dry humping, creampie, manhandling, possessive Gojo, groping, brat behavior from reader, lite dom/sub,
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”
Oh, fuck.
You kinda just… stood there for a few seconds, staring at Gojo in shock. Before you screamed out in fear and ran into the back room.
So humiliating.
“Hahaha!!! Put your glass back on, your blue eyes scared (Name)!” Nobara laughed, walking to join you in the back room. Megumi only rolled his eyes.
Nobara found you in a fetal position on the ground, rocking back and forth as she stared at you in shock.
“Okay, I know his eyes are freaky but it couldn’t have been that bad,” she said, kneeling down to get on your level. She ‘comfortably’ patted your hair, twirling a few strands around her index finger.
It took a few minutes before you could really open your mouth.
“I…know…him…”
“How? This is his first time here.”
You sat upright, staring Nobara right in the eyes.
“Camboy.”
Nobara was quiet, her eyes slowly widening as she took in the new information. Her mouth opened as a shriek left her mouth.
“No fucking way?! Him?! You’ve seen his dick?!”
“Nobara!!!”
She lowered her voice. “Him? Really? The one I called a 4 inch? He’s…. The one you had the call with? Holy shit! Do you think he remembers you?”
“Hopefully… not.. but he said it’s his lucky day.. do you think…?”
“Maybe he’s still mad over the four inch comment.”
“Uhm.”
“Or maybe he’s upset that you were a guy.”
“I dunno…”
“Oh! Maybe he wants to fuck you.”
“Oh c’mon. Now you’re just saying shit.” You stood up with a grunt. “If I’m lucky, he was just saying something about getting a discount. Can you do the cake for him? I really don’t wanna talk to him.”
Nobara frowned but didn’t say anything else. She walked away to go do Gojo’s order. It was silent for the most part, the slight muffled voices of Gojo and Nobara talking. Though it seemed Nobara was talking shit about him.
Hopefully, Gojo wouldn’t come here again due to Megumi’s insistence.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“So, can you take my order this time?”
You blinked, staring right at Gojo as he leaned on the counter, grinning at you. It was in the evening and the cafe was mostly empty. So you didn’t feel bad about shaking your head. You had hoped this blue eyed freak would leave you alone but he seemed set on bothering you.
He’d even come on days Megumi wasn’t there yet or was off that day!
You didn’t speak to him directly. Too embarrassed. All you could remember was your desperate moans to know his name. Yup, no way in hell were you going to speak to him.
Nobara came over to the cashier and took over—you didn’t even have to ask. This had been happening for weeks now. Just a simple look was all she needed. Even Inumaki and Megumi knew what to do. Though the two didn’t know why you seemed so adverse to speaking to Gojo.
Megumi believed you hated him for being annoying. He could relate to that.
Inumaki believed Gojo must’ve did something because you hardly hated people.
So he did from time to time purposely put salt in Gojo’s coffee.
And would sometimes put jalapeño seeds into his food.
What could he say? A true friend.
Nobara was the only one to know the truth. And while she did think you were overreacting a bit—she knew how embarrassing your actions were. If you didn’t want to speak to Gojo, so be it. She’s not one to force it.
You were in the back room when Nobara came back, sighing to herself. She plopped down on the chair beside you, staring down at the table before looking over to you.
“That blue eyed slut keeps asking for you it’s annoying.”
“Slut?”
“Affectionately.” She said. “‘Why does he keep ignoring me?’ ‘Why isn’t he speaking to me?’ ‘Let me talk to him.’ ‘Aren’t you his friend?’ Blah blah blaaaah!” She cried, her voice rising in pitch out of frustration as her hands dug into her scalp, moving her hair around.
“What would he even want to talk about?” You whispered to yourself.
“Maybe he’s scared you’re going to tell Megumi.”
“What would I gain from that? The only thing I’ll tell Megumi is to ban him from the cafe.”
Nobara let out a soft huff. “Really though… if he’s making you that uncomfortable, tell Megumi.” She said, her voice suddenly serious. She reached out and rested her hand against yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t even have to tell Megumi the true reason… he won’t judge. If it comes down to it, we’ll tell Boss.”
She pulled away. Your eyes met hers, a bit shocked at how.. caring she was about the situation. You knew you were overreacting a bit and a normal person would’ve just told Gojo straight up to leave them alone. And you knew she was right.
Megumi wouldn’t judge. He would tell Gojo to stop coming.
But…
It was like you didn’t want him to go for some reason.
In the back of your mind, you truly wanted to know why he kept bothering you.
Was he angry?
Scared you’d tell people?
Well… it couldn’t be good either way.
You just hoped he’d get tired of you soon.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The sound of loud music was beating with your heart as you leaned against the wall. You, Nobara, and a begrudged Megumi were at a newly opened gay club in Shibuya. It was cool for like the first two hours but now your social battery was practically dead.
Megumi was somewhere… you remembered him saying he needed some fresh air.
Nobara was having the time of her life with some girls on the dance floor. Good for her.
You were dressed way more conservatively than most of the people at the club. Just a t-shirt and pants. You weren’t someone to dress up like that. As you drowned your drink and placed it on the bar counter, you asked for some water.
No one was approaching you which was great. You didn’t know if you could handle talking to someone right now.
But that soon changed when someone was suddenly right beside you.
A taller guy, black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be looking for one thing. You didn’t look his way at first, believing he was just getting a drink until a shot glass was slid over to you.
“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here all alone?”
Typical…
You forced a slight smile. “I’m here with friends. No thanks.” You said, sliding the shot back over to him. He shrugged and took it himself, downing in seconds.
It was quiet for a moment, even though the music still roared in the background. “Would your friends mind if I steal you for a little bit?” He suddenly asked, his lips right near your ears. You flinched but couldn’t help but grin in response.
“Why? Where are you going to take me?”
“Wherever you’d like, baby.” His hand slowly trailed down your shoulders to your hips, lightly squeezing before his finger teased the slight opening in your pants. Since you were so touch starved and the last time a man ever touched you was a hundred years ago, you didn’t push him away at first.
So what? You were desperate at this point.
Dildos get lonely…
“Mhm, I don’t—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence because suddenly the man was… gone? You blinked rapidly before looking around in confusion. Huh?! As you reeled in shock at how fast a man could just disappear, you felt a tug at the belt loop of your pants before the hand grasped it entirely and pulled you out of the club.
“Who?! Dude, you’re going to rip my fucking pants off! Get—”
The fresh air slapped you in the face before you were harshly pushed against the wall of the alleyway. Your eyes saw dark spots before you could fully open them, ready to scream bloody murder before you saw who attacked you.
Fucking Gojo!
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked away. No way he found you here! Did Megumi tell him? Nobara? No, they’d never do that to you. Oh… he was a fucking stalker!
But you didn’t get to accuse him as he grabbed your face and forcefully turned it so you would look him in the eye. No, your cock didn’t twitch. You’re just horny.
You didn’t speak. More so just because you knew it pissed him off that you weren’t. So you only gave him your meanest glare and closed your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t pry them open. Only to be wrong because apparently Gojo has no sense of boundaries.
He did force open one of your eyes and you quickly slapped his hand away. Fuck that felt weird. You looked at him shock, the fuck was his problem?
But you weren’t going to speak first! No way. You were going to be petty until the day you died.
Gojo was silent for a moment before groaning, deciding he had to be the one doing the talking.
“What’s your problem?”
“My—?!” You clamped your lips shut. He almost got you there. You reached up and began pushing at his chest but you didn’t even make him budge. Gojo rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, with one hand, and pushed them against the wall, right above your head.
“You avoid me like I killed your entire family. What the hell did I do?”
You pursed your lips and shook your head. For the next few minutes, it was Gojo spouting questions and you acting like a child being asked if they were the one who drew on the wall. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so stupid.
It took a moment before Gojo was finally giving up. He sighed as his hand released his grip on your wrists. You watched as he pulled away and suddenly, you didn’t want him to do that.
So without thinking, you grabbed the belt loops of his pants and pulled him close. Gojo’s eyes widened, his hands quickly moving to rest on either side of you so he didn’t crush into you. You didn’t like the sad look on his face.
But you were about to regret it as his signature smirk appeared. He leaned in close, his mouth pressing against your ear. His light chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, making you unintentionally arch your back.
“I see how it is… you’re into being a brat, huh?”
You shook your head violently, biting your lip. Okay, you were certainly playing into it. But it was the reason your ex broke up with you so you didn’t exactly like the word used in regards to you.
Something something ex boyfriends suck
You gasped as his leg was shoved between yours, rubbing right against your crotch. It happened so fast you couldn’t even think straight.
“I asked you question. Answer.” He said, pulling away so you could see his face. His blue eyes stared straight into yours, making you squirm in embarrassment. You kept remembering the incident. Cumming just from seeing his face.
Gosh, who can say they’ve done that?!
The only sense of light in the alleyway was the moonlight and the blinking neon sign of the club. It would occasionally light up Gojo’s face and you felt your cock twitch when you got a clear view. His eyes staring you down. Jaw tight. His lips no longer in a smirk. You didn’t know he could look so serious.
His eyebrow raised a bit when you didn’t answer. You wanted to see what he’d do and he was quick to show you. His leg began to rub your crotch but it was slow—way too slow for you to get anything from it. It felt like a taste to what you could truly get if you acted like a good boy.
As your cock began to twitch, straining against your pants, he stopped. You whimpered, staring up at him with pity as he tilted his head.
You knew what you had to do to get what you wanted.
“N…no…” You whispered, shaking your head. He let out a sigh, a hand moving away from the wall as it harshly gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“I don’t like liars. Tell me the truth. What happened to the good boy on the call, huh? The one who listened and put on a nice show for me.”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. When you felt his hand squeeze your cheeks, you slowly opened them only to see him looking at you with worry.
“Do you want to stop?” He asked.
Did you?
Did you want to stop?
You reached up and placed your hands on his shoulder, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft, way too soft compared to the debauchery you two were just participating in.
Gojo eagerly kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. He kissed you as if he was hungry. Like if you were to pull away, he’d miss his chance. You moaned into the kiss as he grasped your ass, gripping it tightly before moving downward to grab your legs and hoist you up.
He slammed you against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss as you gripped his hair for some sort of purchase. The innocent kiss you had given him was leaning to pure lust.
His teeth biting your lips, earning little gasps from you. You’d never kissed a man like this before. But even though it was pure lust, you somehow felt loved.
“Ahem..”
You both froze. Gojo was still biting at your lip as you both glanced to your right to see a pissed off Megumi.
“I called you to take me home, not fuck my friend.”
Gojo pulled away, though his hand still held you up, “Megumi~~ sorry! I just got caught—”
“—fucking my friend? C’mon, I found Nobara.” Megumi stormed away while you felt like jumping off the nearest bridge.
Jesus Christ!! You might as well replace your middle name with “Embarrassment!”
Gojo only chuckled slightly as he pulled out his car keys and placed it in your hand. He gently placed you back on your feet. “Go to the car, I’ll join you guys in a minute.”
“What are you doing?”
He simply smirked. “Taking out some trash.”
He was so weird…
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Nobara was conked out in the spare bedroom while Megumi slept on a futon in the same room. Gojo had driven you three to his apartment. It was actually quite nice. You wondered what his actual job was because you knew being a cam boy couldn’t actually pay that well.
While Gojo was looking for some spare clothes for you, you decided to take a look around. You found his office and instantly knew this was where he did his cams. It was surreal seeing it in person.
As you closed the door, you shrieked when you came face to face with Gojo. He was smirking, handing you a pair of pajamas he found that could possibly found you.
“How was it?”
“How was what?”
He rolled his eyes. “The room. Better in person?”
You simply let out a huff. “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”
“No need—change in my room. You’ll be sleeping there anyway.”
And then he just walked to his room. You stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Sleep? Sleeping? In there? His room?!
If there wasn’t two people already sleeping you would’ve screamed.
You slowly followed behind him, unable to stop the steady rise of your heartbeat. Your stomach felt weird, slightly churning as you thought about what could happen. But it didn’t feel like anxiety, more so like excitement. Though you couldn’t fight back the slight feeling of nausea.
You haven’t slept with someone in over a year.
And Gojo was so experienced.
Would he compare you to others?
Would you disappoint him?
You suck at giving blowjobs, haven’t gotten out of the habit of not using teeth. Your ex complained about that all the time.
Has he even fucked a guy before?
All these thoughts rushed in your head before you bumped right into something. You glanced up, grinning shyly as Gojo raised an eyebrow. His hands gripped your shoulder as he leaned down a bit to look you right in the eye.
“What’s wrong? Nervous?”
You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie. So you mutely nodded.
Gojo chuckled slightly, his hand moving up to lightly caress your cheek. “Don’t be. I’ll lead.”
His hand slowly slid down, his thumb lightly teasing your lips. It pulled down at your bottom lip before he switched to his index and middle finger. They pushed your lips apart before inching their way inside your mouth. It took a moment for you to not push them out—getting used to the odd feeling of them.
Slowly, you lightly suckled on them, closing your eyes to try and keep calm. More than likely, he was going to finger you open. And you felt your cock twitch at the thought.
You almost completely lost yourself, not even noticing the stuttered breath Gojo let out. Your eyes opened slightly, looking up at him hooded eyelids. He almost looked possessed. His throat bobbed as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.
You pulled away, taking his fingers out of your mouth. “What’s wrong…?”
“I wish it didn’t take me so long to fuck you.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Jeez, you’re tight, (Name), you don’t stretch yourself often?”
The sound of your muffled whimpers was filling the room, moonlight seeping through the curtains as you tried to keep still. You were sitting on Gojo’s lap, your legs spread open as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you deeper than you thought was possible.
Your back pressed against his chest as you had your hand clamped around your mouth. You only imagined his hands inside you. Especially during his streams. It was almost like a fantasy that it was happening right now.
That he actively sought after you.
“If they weren’t here,” he muttered, most likely referring to Megumi and Nobara, “I wouldn’t have allowed you to hide those pretty little sounds.”
You felt yourself blush.
He finds your moans pretty?
If you weren’t too busy moaning, you would’ve been giggling.
His fingers stretched you slowly and methodically, rubbing against your wet walls as if searching for something. You wondered if he was having trouble reaching your prostate. So you shuffled a bit, thinking maybe it was the angle you were sitting in that was giving him trouble.
“Uncomfortable?” He suddenly asked, his fingers stopping.
“Oh.. no… thought you… were having trouble reaching my.. uhm, prostate.”
“I wasn’t. I know where it is.” You felt his finger brush against it, causing you to whimper. “I’m avoiding it on purpose.”
“W..why..?”
A light chuckle left him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your nude lower half. He hummed slightly, his free hand trailing downward to tease your leaking cock. It was still taking you some getting used to being fully nude while he was still dressed.
“Because of this.”
Suddenly, his fingers began to harshly target your prostate. Rubbing and teasing it relentlessly. Your body arched against him, toes curling as you screamed out. It was inhumane at how he was able to keep the fast pace with just his fingers.
No wonder those girls in the video practically screamed when he fingered them.
His free hand grasped your cock, thumb lightly teasing your sensitive tip. The constant between the harsh thrusts and slow, sensual movements on your cock was something you never felt before. Your hands gripped at everything beneath you—bedsheets, your leg, but soon found purchase gripping his thigh.
Wow, how often does he work out?
You couldn’t dwell too much on it as you began to feel the familiar sensation in your body. Your cock leaking pre-cum all over your tummy. But just as you almost reached your peak, it was over.
His fingers pulled out.
“Wha…?” You muttered, chest heaving as you glanced over at him.
Gojo only patted your thighs before motioning for you get off. You hesitantly stood up, legs feeling entirely like jelly as you watched him pull down his pants, his cock sprinting out.
It was huge.
That seven inch dildo certainly came in handy…
His cock was possibly close to eight. Seeing it in person was different from any video or live stream. The veins and just how much thicker it was.
“Condom.” He whispered, pointing at the nightstand beside the bed. He began to lightly stroke his cock, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his tip.
You didn’t move to get the condom. He didn’t use condoms when fucking those girls. Why did he need to use one with you?
There was some weird surge of jealousy within you. And it wasn’t because he fucked other people.
It was because he wasn’t going to cum inside you.
Well, what if you wanted that?
“Mhm, no.” You replied, pushing his hand away from his cock.
Gojo raised an eyebrow at this, watching as you moved to sit down on his lap. You grasped his cock and placed it right between your ass, lightly teasing your puckered hole. Your free hand gripping tightly at his shoulder, balancing yourself a bit.
“You cum in all those girls.” You whispered, smirking slightly as you leaned in. “What if I want it too?”
A laugh left Gojo as his hands reached over and grasped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You were sure this was going to leave a mark. Any sort of control you just tried to hold was pushed away by Gojo.
“Aw~ it’s okay, baby. You’ll be replacing those girls, no need to think about ‘em anymore.”
“Wh—?”
You screamed out as he pulled you down onto his cock. Your face squinted in pain as you whimpered and squirmed, trying to get used to his cock. It was different seeing it than feeling it stretch you whole. No wonder he spent a good amount of time stretching you out.
Gojo kept his grip on you tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock. You didn’t get no say in how he got to use you. Your voice filled the room, you forgot all about keeping quiet by this point.
“Ngh, sorry, hate this position.”
You didn’t even get to answer him back when you were suddenly picked up from off his cock and dropped onto the bed. You were now on your knees as he got behind you. His cock teased your hole for just a moment before he slammed right back inside.
Your face squished against the bed as his hands moved downward, gripping your ass tightly as he began massaging it. His cock stretched you fool, easily rubbing against your prostate with each thrust.
It was better than any dildo.
“You don’t even know… how much I masturbated to your moans,” he suddenly said.
You almost didn’t hear him at first. “H..hng..?”
“I recorded the sound of your moans during the call. How could I not when it made me cum so fast,” he reached down, pressing his chest against your back. He angled his hips against your ass and began thrusting again, his cock continuously rubbing right against your prostate.
You tried to say something but the only sound that left you was cries of pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers filled the room.
It was weird, totally. But…
You’d look past it.
Dick too good, y’know?
“Then you came from just seeing my face.” He chuckled slightly. “Knew I couldn’t let you get away but you blocked me everywhere.”
He pulled away slightly, his thrusting coming to a pause. You whimpered in disappointment, glancing back at him. Gojo grinned slightly as he grabbed your arms, pulling them back a bit before sliding down to grasp your hands.
The position wasn’t comfortable at all, having your hands behind your back. You couldn’t hold up your face anymore, being forced to just let it lay on the sheets.
“Imagine my luck when I saw you again. You’re prettier in person.” His hips slammed against your ass, earning a scream from you. But he didn’t move again, leaving you to calm down from the harsh thrust.
“But then you ignore me.” He muttered. “Thought I was going to have to give up on you… but today was my lucky day. Just had to throw that guy away and you were mine.”
You felt your cock twitch.
His?
You were his.
He released his grip on your hands and pulled out again. You didn’t even get to whine this time as you were flipped onto your back, staring at him now. He crawled over you, his cock easily sliding back inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him close.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours…” You whispered, “won’t… run away anymore… promise.”
Gojo grinned slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. His hand patted your head, his finger twirling a strand of your hair. Seeing him like this, so soft compared to his camboy persona was out of a dream.
“I’ll be nice—since it’s our first.” He sat back, his hands reaching down to rest on the curve of your hips.
As he began to slowly thrust inside of you, you couldn’t help but sigh. It felt nice. The soft rhythm of his cock going in and out. But it soon started to pick up, his grip tightening on your hips. You whimpered, gripping at his chest as you wondered how this was going to go.
“G-Gojo?!”
“Hm?”
“H…how is this nice..?!” You managed to moan out.
His hips slammed against your ass, the sound of skin slapping together returning in harmony with your moans.
“This is my nice.” He grinned.
Fucking asshole!
His hand moved up and gripped one of yours, tangling it into a handhold. Your hand was practically engulfed by his. Crap, he was making you feel crazy.
“You know my name now, so scream it.”
You gasped in shock, suddenly remembering when you had whined in the call about not having a name to moan. Your back arched as his pace somehow picked up even more, his hips slamming into you with a force you questioned was human.
If this was his nice… you didn’t want to know what his mean was.
Okay—that was a lie, you definitely wanted to know.
You started to moaning his name which soon turned into screams. Your cock spurted pathetically on your stomach, coating it with your cum. But he didn’t stop. He kept his rough pace as he used you for his own release.
His last thrusts practically took your breath away as he pushed deep inside of you. The only sound left was your gasps as he cummed, coating your insides.
Your hand was still entangled with his and he didn’t seem to want to let go. As he pulled out, cum slowly leaked out of you, coating the bedsheets beneath you. He laid down beside you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he tugged you closer.
It was silent for a moment, only your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down. Gojo buried his face in your neck, humming slightly. The moonlight shined down on you both through the windows, illuminating his white hair beautifully.
As your eyes felt heavy, you cuddled closer to him and fell asleep with a smile.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“I can’t believe you.”
You and Gojo sat kneeling on the floor in front of a disappointed Nobara and Megumi.
“I can believe Gojo… but (Name)…” Megumi whispered, shaking his head as he looked at you.
Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I thought he was killing you at first. Can you imagine the horror of hearing you scream in the middle of the night?!”
You froze, glancing up at Nobara. “Did you…?”
“Head back down!” She yelled, you quickly obeyed. “And yes, I did see Gojo fucking you! So traumatizing.” She whined, wiping at her imaginary tears.
“I wish I didn’t hear it.” Megumi muttered.
“So, were you guys role playing or something?! Why did you act like you hated him for almost two months straight?!” Nobara asked, staring right at you.
You pursed your lips, keeping your head down. “Uhm… I dunno… I just…”
Gojo grinned. “It was a brat tamer role play!”
“I didn’t need to know that!” Nobara screamed, covering her ears as she began to sing to herself as she ran away to the kitchen. Megumi only gave you another disappointed look, one that reminded you of a mother, before glaring daggers at Gojo.
“You still can’t bother me at work.” He said before walking away.
Gojo simply laughed, standing up. He stretched as he held out a hand to help you up. “Don’t mind Megumi, he’ll get over it.”
You nodded with a pout, hoping he was right. As you moved to go join Megumi and Nobara in the kitchen, Gojo suddenly grabbed your hand. He pulled you close, pressing his lips against your ear.
“I wasn’t lying about you replacing the girls, I wanna show you off.” He whispered before releasing you. He gave you his signature cocky smirk before walking away to go bother Megumi some more.
You stood there for a moment, reeling in shock.
Show… you… off…?
Did he mean…?
Holy fuck.
He wanted to make videos with you!
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
No part 3, stop bugging me
Tag list: @teyvat-writer @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @ofclyde @smellwell @flurrina @tomoeroi @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @honey-valentin3 @byul9158 @xiaovrsven7ti @vivian-555 @huboi @a-purple-person
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runwayrunway · 2 years ago
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condor's new planes are so funny. I have a bunch of folders for every airline I cover and I was going back through my condor one to find pictures for that ask and I'm losing my mind. Every front on photo of a condor plane looks sort of almost annoyed. Just sitting there on the tarmac mad as hell that her airline dressed her in these cringe stripes.
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Maybe it's just the way the nose is placed on the 753 but even from an angle like this she looks sort of angry. Oh? You're making me take off again? Every morning I wake up and take off and then fly somewhere else and land and then do it again and the whole time I have these stripes on and I look ridiculous. Also the first officer from the last leg left potato chip crumbs on his seat.
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You think it's so funny, huh. You think it's so hilarious that they made me look like this. Well wouldn't it be funny if I landed directly on top of you? Stop laughing. Why are you still laughing. Stop laughing at me.
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Ugh. Fine. I GUESS I'll land. But I am going to take the entire runway to stop so that I can delay having to sit on the apron where the other planes can make fun of me. This is just cruel. I hate you.
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kxsagi · 5 days ago
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bllk boys as protective girl dads plss🙏🤭‼️
“𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐝: 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”
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a/n: YES!!!
ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, aiku oliver, ness alexis
isagi yoichi
he’s nervous as hell. he’s been mentally preparing for this day since she was born. read parenting books. watched TED Talks. even asked bachira for advice (bad idea). 
when the doorbell rings, isagi opens it like he’s facing a final boss. his smile is forced. his eyes are analyzing every molecule of the poor boy. 
“hi! i’m yoichi. her father. her only father. her first love. the man who taught her how to ride a bike, tie her shoes, and dodge creeps.” 
he sits him down for a “casual” talk that feels like a college entrance interview. 
“so, what are your career goals?” 
“sir, i’m sixteen.” 
“oh. so no plan. interesting.” 
shows him highlight reels of his matches while staring directly into his soul. 
“this was my blue lock goal against japan’s U-20. see how i crushed that man’s dreams? fun fact: i still know his name and address.” 
when the kid reaches for the salt at dinner, isagi instinctively intercepts it like a midfielder and hands it over slowly. he’s in defense mode all night (despite being a striker). 
ends the night by pulling him aside like, “look. she’s my baby girl. if you touch her heart the wrong way, i’ll treat you like a soccer ball. and i haven’t missed a shot since i was 17.” 
itoshi rin
absolutely hates that this is happening. told your daughter six years ago that boys were banned until she turned 30. 
she threatened to bring the boy home while he’s at work. rin took the whole week off. 
opens the door dead silent, staring at the kid like he’s a crime scene. 
doesn’t speak for the first fifteen minutes. just lurks. behind doors. in hallways. watching. judging. 
finally breaks the silence with: “what’s your GPA.” 
doesn’t wait for the answer. “not good enough.” 
offers the boy water, and when he says yes, rin just replies, “figures.” 
aggressively peels an apple with a knife while maintaining eye contact. 
“listen. she’s not just my daughter. she’s her own person. and if you mess with her, i’ll remind you why i’m feared on and off the pitch.” 
“you play soccer too, sir?” 
“no. i play with fear.” 
daughter drags him away mid-threat, muttering “you’re so dramatic.” 
rin, still glaring: “i’m being merciful.” 
itoshi sae
acts like he doesn’t care. shrugs when your daughter tells him she’s bringing her boyfriend. 
but fifteen minutes before the kid arrives, he changes into his most expensive shirt, slicks his hair back, and lights a candle “for ambiance.” 
opens the door with that sae smile. soft, polite, terrifying. fake. 
“welcome. don’t mind the cameras. they’re just for insurance purposes.” 
takes the boyfriend to the living room and offers him sparkling water like it’s a talk show. 
“so. tell me. what are your intentions with my daughter?” 
“uh…we just hang out and stuff.” 
“hmm. you ‘hang out’ with royalty?” 
casually roasts the kid for every answer. 
“you’re a sophomore? cute.” 
“you want to study business? adorable.” 
ends the night by handing him a detailed contract: “if you’re going to date her, you’ll need to sign this NDA, consent form, and post-breakup damage clause. any questions?” 
nagi seishiro
forgets the whole event until the doorbell rings. opens it with a mouth full of chips, wearing a hoodie that says “sleep > people.” 
“yo. you the boyfriend? sup boss.” 
lets him in and lies back on the couch like it’s nap time. 
barely says a word until he sees the kid reach for your daughter’s hand. 
suddenly wide awake. sits up like a horror movie character. 
“hey. hands. off. my daughter.” 
your daughter rolls her eyes. “dad, we’re just sitting.” 
“yeah, well, sit apart. air needs space to breathe.” 
plays video games with him later, completely silent, except for the moments he whoops his ass and mutters “pathetic.” 
“you ever consider a backup plan? like, uh… not dating my daughter?” 
the boyfriend stutters. nagi yawns. 
“don’t take it personal. just don’t make me get up again. ever.” 
mikage reo
acts like he’s hosting the met gala. wears a suit. sets the table. lights mood candles. 
“this dinner is just to determine if you’re worthy. no pressure.” 
offers the kid wine, then dramatically says, “just kidding, you’re underage. see? already testing your judgment.” 
asks him about his financial plans like he’s hiring a CEO. 
“so. do you invest?” 
“uh. in like… snacks?” 
gives a 20-minute slideshow about his daughter’s achievements and how she deserves the best. every slide ends with: “can you match this energy?” 
subtly brags about the family trust fund, then smiles and says, “so if you ever think of breaking her heart… just know I have money. and lawyers.” 
when your daughter scolds him, reo winks. 
“i’m just protecting my ROI: return on inheritance.” 
kaiser michael
answers the door like he’s greeting a servant. 
stares the boyfriend up and down with his arms crossed. 
“you’re the one? huh. i pictured someone taller. and with… better taste in shoes.” 
drags the kid to his home office, where there’s a huge photo of his daughter framed like the mona lisa. 
“you see this? this is perfection. if you ever make her cry, i will personally make sure your life becomes a 24/7 documentary called ‘where did it all go wrong.’” 
keeps flexing his player stats while casually insulting the boyfriend. 
“you play a sport? no? then what exactly do you do?” 
tries to outdo the boyfriend in everything. laughs louder. lifts heavier. wears cologne that could knock out a horse. 
when he leaves, kaiser grins at your daughter. 
“don’t worry. he won’t last a month. he said he liked pineapple on pizza. oh, and he can’t speak german. instant disqualification.” 
shidou ryusei
is way too calm when he finds out. smiles. says “cool.” 
and then sharpens a knife for no reason. 
greets the boyfriend like a demon in disguise. shirtless. tattoos out. casually eating cereal from a beer mug. 
“yo, you the punk trying to date my little girl?” 
pulls him into a bro hug and whispers: “if you kiss her before i say it’s okay, you’re dead.” 
slaps his back so hard the kid almost collapses. 
makes the boyfriend sit through a slideshow of his red cards and fights. 
“this one? i broke a guy’s nose. cute, right?” 
and then just flips the vibe. “but if you hurt her, i won’t just break your nose. i’ll ruin your whole career. even if you don’t have one yet. i’ll create one just to destroy it.” 
the boyfriend leaves early. shidou shrugs. 
“meh. he wasn’t even hot.” 
karasu tabito
takes it way too seriously. wears sunglasses indoors. chewing gum. holding a baseball bat “just in case.” 
opens the door like he’s interrogating a suspect. 
“name. age. GPA. zodiac sign. shoe size. go.” 
laughs at the boyfriend’s nervous answers, but never breaks eye contact. 
“you’re funny, man. but not like, ‘ha ha’ funny. more like ‘i’m watching you’ funny.” 
ropes the poor boy into a “casual” one-on-one soccer game in the backyard. goes full pro. 
“oops, did i slide tackle you? my bad, it’s muscle memory.” 
asks invasive questions the whole time. 
“have you ever cried at a movie? be honest.” 
ends the day by pulling your daughter aside. 
“he’s not awful. but if he ever makes you sad, let me know. i got a guy. he handles things.” 
aiku oliver
answers the door wearing his best button-up shirt (unbuttoned to the chest, of course), hair slicked, watch on, biceps popping. 
instantly goes full pretty-boy intimidation. “so. you’re the brave soul trying to date my daughter.” 
smiles way too nicely, like a mafia boss pretending to be a friendly florist. 
pulls the kid in for a hug, then leans down and whispers: “i know 17 different ways to make someone cry. without violence.” 
during dinner, he makes everything a competition. the boyfriend says he plays guitar? oliver used to be in a band. the boyfriend says he’s in honors classes? oliver once graduated top of his class while half-asleep. “wow, you're good at math? i once calculated the angle of heartbreak. it’s 47 degrees, by the way.” 
brings out baby photos and narrates each one like a TED talk. “here she is at 3. we had to buy seven unicorn plushies because one wasn't enough. you ready for that kind of emotional commitment, champ?” 
your daughter: “DAD–” 
as the boyfriend is leaving, oliver walks him to the door with a hand on his shoulder. still smiling. still terrifying. 
“listen, she’s the most incredible person i know. if she’s happy with you, great. but if she’s not? i will make your life a full-length drama. critically acclaimed. zero award nominations.” 
and as the poor guy walks off, shaken, oliver yells after him, “BYE SON! DRIVE SAFE! DON’T TEXT AND BREATHE!” 
ness alexis
greets the boyfriend with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. 
“hello! i’ve heard so much about you.” 
he has not. he hacked his daughter’s phone to find out. 
speaks so sweetly. guides him in. offers tea. but underneath? pure jealousy and panic. 
sits between them on the couch like a chaperone from the 1800s. 
“so! what made you think you were good enough for my baby girl?” 
“sir?” 
“oh nothing, just asking!” 😊
clutches his daughter’s hand every few minutes like he’s reminding them both she’s his little princess forever. 
follows the boyfriend on all socials. scrolls for hours. 
“you posted a girl emoji under another girl’s post in 2022. care to explain?” 
when he leaves, ness gives him a cheerful wave. “bye-bye! don’t do anything dumb! i will know!” 
turns to his daughter the second the door closes: “i don’t like him. his aura’s off. we’re doing a background check tomorrow.” 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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softlypossessive · 1 month ago
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Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day. I was wondering if I could request a strawhat x mute!reader. The reader has selective mutism, meaning she gets anxiety speaking to people in certain situations. When she does speak, which would be rare, it’s only when it’s just her and her crew. If she was in public she and had to say something she would whisper directly in their ear, otherwise she wouldn’t speak. The relationship could be either platonic or romantic, either is fine. I was wondering how would the strawhats react to their mute member being in a situation where pirates of a different crew surrounds and antagonizes her, trying to get her to speak to them. Also, may I ask that you not make the reader meek and defenseless? While she does feel anxiety when she’s in a situation where she has to speak to people, she’s not an overall anxious and docile person.
♡・゚𓏸 All Strawhats x Selectively Mute!Reader Headcanons 𓏸・゚♡
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♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Jinbe, Brook, Chopper, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, Soft protectiveness, mutual understanding, SFW, platonic, romantic if you squint?? mentions of selective mutism, quiet affirmations, crew-wide affection, no use of Y/N, ♡ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I really hope I did it justice <3 I went with a full crew interpretation (since it’s SFW) and leaned into that strong, warm platonic love—though if you squint, a few bits might read a lil more intimate. But overall? This crew would go to war for you, no questions asked. Not spicy, just full of love and loyalty.
𓏸⋆。˚☁️˚。⋆𓏸
🍖 Luffy
At first, Luffy doesn’t get it.
“Why don’t you talk to them? Are they stupid?” (Yes, Luffy. Yes, they are.)
But the moment it clicks—that your silence isn’t a weakness but a boundary—he respects it with his whole chest
He never pressures you to speak. Like, ever. He doesn’t even notice you don’t talk half the time because he just vibes with your presence
You're still his crewmate, still part of the adventure, still cool as hell in his book
When you do whisper to him? Man lights up like a SUNRISE
“WAAAH YOU TALKED TO ME!!!”
Cue excitement. He treasures those moments
He absolutely throws hands if anyone tries to mock or push you into speaking.
No hesitation.
One second of antagonizing you = rubber punch to the jaw
Thinks your ability to stand silent and still in chaos is scary cool
"You don't need words to be strong. I can feel it. You're STRONG."
⚔️ Zoro
Completely unbothered by your silence—he’s not exactly chatty either
You two could sit in silence for three hours and that’s a perfect conversation to him
He clocks your selective mutism immediately and never asks questions you don’t want to answer
If you whisper something in his ear in public, he listens like it’s sacred scripture
He’s incredibly protective—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he hates people who mistake quiet for easy prey
The moment someone tries to force words out of you? Zoro’s sword is already out
“You really think pressure makes people talk? Try bleeding first. Then we’ll compare notes.”
He absolutely respects that your silence is a form of control, not submission
Will stand at your shoulder like a silent wall of steel until you nod it’s okay to move
🍳 Sanji
Sanji is a soft king when it comes to your comfort
Doesn’t just “accept” your mutism—he adapts to it
Develops a whole love language around your silences: gestures, hand squeezes, looks, shared glances over food
If you whisper in his ear in public? He goes red every time no matter what you said
Treats your rare spoken words like poetry.
"Your voice... I could die happy now."
But if anyone dares try to “make you speak,” he’s fury on legs
“If you wanted a conversation, you should’ve kept your tongue attached.”
Elegant fury. Fires the first kick. Lights a cigarette after the last one drops
Thinks your silence adds to your mystique and honestly simps hard for it
“They don’t need to talk, idiot. They’re already unforgettable.”
🛠️ Usopp
Understands your selective mutism right away—relates through his own anxiety
Never makes it a big deal, just accepts it as part of who you are
Acts as your unofficial hype man 24/7
Narrates your silence like it’s legendary
“My friend here? Silent assassin. Writes poetry. Could kill you in three moves. Show some respect.”
Gets so excited whenever you whisper to him
“THEY SAID SOMETHING TO ME. PERSONALLY. ME.”
Makes little gadgets to help you communicate—flip signs, buttons, visual cues
If anyone mocks or pressures you to speak, he steps up immediately
Starts going off in a fiery, ridiculous, clearly-exaggerated monologue about how you’re a silent warrior who once stared down a sea king until it cried.
“You’re really gonna push someone who could take you out with one look?”
Absolutely nervous but still defends you—protective even when shaking
Later brags about it like he was chill the whole time
Thinks your silence is mysterious, heroic, and honestly? Very cool
🍊 Nami
Notices your mutism instantly and adjusts without missing a beat
Communicates with subtle cues: touch, eye contact, quiet words
Always leans in when you whisper, gives you her full attention
Becomes your translator in crowds, sharp and effective
“They said back off. Before I make you.”
If someone tries to force you to talk, she doesn’t hold back
Fights with sass, smarts, and no mercy—protects you because you’re strong, not in spite of it
Never treats you like a problem to fix
Calls your mutism a boundary, not a flaw
Gets genuinely touched when you whisper something soft to her
“Only the right people get to hear that voice.”
Thinks you’re powerful in your silence—deadly, beautiful, and fierce
📚 Robin
Understands without needing it explained—she’s lived through silence herself
Views your selective mutism as deliberate, powerful, elegant
You’re not “mute” to her—you’re discerning. And that makes you brilliant in her book.
She’s very observant.
Not only does she notice the exact kinds of situations that make you shut down, she preemptively handles them.
Like casually standing next to you in crowds. Leaning in so you can whisper without stress. Ordering your drink without being asked.
You two become silent duo queens, communicating entire conversations with eye contact and head tilts
But when you’re surrounded, alone, and pirates are sneering in your face?
One of them laughs, “They mute or just stupid?”
Six arms bloom from the stone walls and grab all of them by the throat.
Robin walks up, smiling politely.
“It seems you’re the stupid ones.”
She looks to you and tilts her head.
“Would you like me to break their arms or their egos?”
You murmur a single word
“Egos.”
She smiles wider.
Later, you slip her a note with a tiny sketch of her stepping on the pirate’s face. She folds it into her book like a pressed flower.
🔧 Franky
Thought you were just “cool and mysterious” at first—didn’t realize your silence was tied to selective mutism
When he does figure it out? Immediate SUPER™ respect
Doesn’t try to make you talk—just makes sure you always feel welcome in the workshop
Builds you custom tools or a gadget to help if you want to communicate in crowded places—only if you’re into it
“You don’t gotta say a thing, dude. You just being here is already awesome!”
Treats your rare spoken words like a backstage VIP pass
Will absolutely body block anyone who corners you or tries to force you to speak
If someone mocks you? Cue cyborg intimidation mode
“Real strength ain’t about talkin’. It’s about doin’. And you? You’ve got that in spades.”
Loves hearing you whisper in his ear in public.
Instantly salutes.
“COMMAND RECEIVED!!”
Thinks your silence adds mystery and badassery—he’s kind of obsessed tbh
“You’re like… like a silent laser beam! Precise! Lethal! SUPER!!”
🌊 Jinbe
Understands immediately—doesn’t need an explanation
Has deep emotional intelligence and respects boundaries like a king
Offers quiet companionship when you need it, never pressuring conversation
Has an entire repertoire of gentle nods and thoughtful glances for when words aren’t needed
If you whisper to him, he leans in with the patience of a mountain
“You do not need to speak to be heard.”
Would stand calmly beside you if you're being antagonized—silent, unmoving, radiating “Try me.” energy
If someone pushes you to talk? He won’t raise his voice—but he will command the entire room’s attention
“If your ears are so desperate for sound, perhaps you should listen to your own foolishness.”
He believes your silence holds weight—calls it “the stillness before a wave”
Deeply respects how you fight without words—calls it “an elegant form of strength”
Makes sure the crew understands your boundaries without ever making a fuss of it
Absolute guardian energy, with the soul of a poet
🎻 Brook
Surprisingly intuitive about your silence despite being loud himself
Doesn’t ask invasive questions—just rolls with it, happily filling silences with songs or stories
Makes gentle jokes to ease tension but always watches your cues
“Ah, you didn’t laugh out loud, but I saw that smile! Yohohoho!”
If you whisper something in public? Dramatic swoon every time
“A private word?! For me?! Oh my heart—wait, I don’t have one!! Yohoho!”
He absolutely writes songs about you—like full orchestral ballads of silent bravery
Believes your silence is poetic and meaningful
“Some voices are loudest without sound.”
If someone antagonizes you? Brook’s polite tone goes cold
“Your disrespect will not go unnoticed, even by one without eyes.”
cue chill-inducing violin chord
Protects you through unexpected intimidation—he’s goofy until he isn’t
Thinks your energy is ghostly and powerful in a way he deeply respects
Refers to you as “the whisper between storms” in one of his songs
🧸 Chopper
Soooo gentle and sweet with you from day one
Was nervous at first like
“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t they talk to me?”
But once he understands, he’s all in: brings you tea, sits nearby while you write, never pressures you
“You don’t have to talk. I still know you like me, right?”
Will make you little cue cards or cute picture communication tools if you want help in public
If you whisper to him, he melts.
“AHHH THEY TALKED TO ME! I MEAN—I’M COOL. I’M NORMAL.”
If someone bullies you or gets pushy?
Normally sweet Chopper goes feral mode
“BACK OFF! YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE HOW THEY TALK!”
Will patch you up after fights and praise how you held your own, even without words
“You’re one of the strongest people I know… You don’t even need a voice to be amazing!”
Lowkey keeps a medical log of when you speak or interact more—only to make sure you’re doing okay mentally
Feels extra close to you because you both were misunderstood at first
♡。゚☁︎。♡゚
You were only gone five minutes.
Five minutes to run down the street and grab new ink, maybe peek into the bookstore. Five minutes away from the crew.
Apparently, that was enough.
They came out of nowhere—half a dozen rough-looking pirates, loud and posturing. One of them stepped in front of you as you turned to leave.
"Oi, sweetheart. Why so quiet?"
You didn’t respond.
"Too good to talk to us?" "Or maybe you think you're better?" "C’mon, just say hi." "We don’t bite… much.”
They leaned in. Circling. Testing.
You stared them down, face flat, spine straight, hand hovering near your weapon—but still, you said nothing. You didn’t owe them a damn word.
And that’s when the sound of boots hit the street behind you.
Not loud. Not rushed. But deliberate.
Zoro was the first. Leaning against the alley wall like he’d been there the whole time. He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t need to.
Sanji stepped up next, cracking his knuckles with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Smoke curled from the edge of his lips.
Nami lingered behind them, arms crossed, watching. Sharp gaze narrowed. Robin’s shadow moved just beside hers—subtle, but present. You could feel it.
And then there was Luffy.
No drama. No yelling. He just appeared beside you, hands in his pockets, staring straight at the loudest one.
They all paused, instincts kicking in. A shift in the air.
“…This your crew?” one of them asked, voice suddenly less cocky.
You leaned in close to Luffy’s ear, barely a breath.
"I didn’t need help."
He grinned. "I know."
Silence again. Until he tilted his head, smile gone now.
"I just didn’t like the way they talked to you."
That was it.
That was all it took.
The men backed off. Fast. No fight. Just the weight of the crew’s presence and Luffy’s quiet fury pressing down on them like a stormcloud. They knew better.
As they vanished down the street, Luffy turned to you, still smiling—loose and easy like nothing had happened.
You sighed and bumped your shoulder against his in thanks. He bumped back.
Zoro huffed a quiet breath, like he’d been hoping for action. Sanji smoothed his jacket, still glaring at the retreating pirates. Chopper poked your arm, worried, but you just gave him a nod.
The crew didn’t make a big deal of it.
No lectures. No questions.
Just a warm space carved out around you.
Safe. Quiet. Yours.
Because you didn’t need words for them to hear you.
And they didn’t need words to say “We’ve got your back.”
𓏸⋆。˚☁️˚。⋆𓏸
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