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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 day

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weekend away

words: 3.2k

a/n: of course inspired by these precious pictures of drew <3

warnings: 18+ only, dad!rafe, mom!reader, established relationship, theyre maaaarried <3, VERY FLUFFY, descriptions of breastfeeding, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), rafe is like the best dad everrr

“okay…” you look into your trunk, mentally going through your checklist. stroller, check, folder up and ready for daisys car seat to be placed on. diaper bag, check, with extra diapers just in case. pump, check. carrier, baby carrier, check. extra change of clothes, check.

you have everything you could possibly need for daisy, not even realizing that you completely forgot about yourself.

“got your suitcase packed, baby?” rafe asks, daisy in his arms, happy to be cradled there, looking up at her daddy with wide eyes.

“shit!” you squeal, before covering your mouth. daisy may be too young to understand your words, but you still try not to curse in front of her.

“hey, it's okay.” rafe can instantly see your nerves skyrocketing. of course you were too focused on getting everything for your daughter that you completely forgot that it's a weekend trip you'll be going on too.

“okay, i um- ill just throw some clothes in a bag then-”

“baby.” rafe easily switches daisy to one arm, wrapping his now free one around your shoulders. you relax into his hold, reminded how protected you feel by rafe. “we aren't in a rush. we can delay taking off for a bit, okay? it's not that long of a drive.”

“okay.” you nod, arms circling around his waist as you turn to face rafe, pressing your cheek into his side as you smile down at daisy. “hi baby. mama is a bit of a mess right now.”

“don't talk about yourself like that.” rafe says softly, leaning to press a kiss to the top of you're head. “you're doing amazing. you juggle so much, it's a surprise you don't forget things more often.”

you let out a little chuckle, which daisy copies as her little mouth turns into a smile.

“okay, ill go get started.” you sigh. you can't believe your mind has been so scattered and focused on getting daisy ready that you completely forgot about doing anything for yourself.

“we will help.” rafe closes the trunk, heading back inside to follow you up the stairs. “not sure how much help daisy will be, but you got me at least.”

you end up packing pretty quickly, especially since you're bringing a big suitcase, way too big for just a couple days out of town, so you're easily able to throw in more than you need, just in case.

“alright.” rafe hums. “both suitcases loaded, we just need to get daisy in her car seat.”

“great.” you groan. daisy recently developed a hatred for her car seat, after you planned a nice weekend trip a few hours away from the outer banks.

“how about i try?” you know it won't make a difference, but you nod, letting rafe carry daisy towards the car, trying to distract with coos and even snuggling his nose into her tummy, but by the time she's over the seat, she turns straight as a board.

you can barely watch as her sweet face turns to one of sadness, tears falling down her cheeks.

“oh my poor baby.” you coo after rafe gets her all buckled in. “you want mama to ride back here with you?”

you're not sure it will help, but you climb into the backseat to sit next to the car seat while rafe gets in to drive.

“it is almost nap time, maybe she'll fall asleep quickly.” rafe shrugs as he pulls the car out of the driveway, always extra careful when he's bringing you or daisy anywhere.

“maybe.” you hum, petting over her forehead and down her nose until her cries stop, eyes close, and her chest begins to rise and fall slower.

you don't even realize as rafe happily drives you to your destination that as daisy falls asleep, so do you, head resting against her car seat as you catch up on some rest.

rafe smiles when he sees you in the backseat completely knocked out, even snapping a picture when he stops at a toll.

he keeps the radio down low to not wake either of you until he arrives to the airbnb, a delightful cottage right on the beach. it's not too different from home, but the bigger city offers more things to do, and you plan to take advantage of your time away and show daisy all the things she hasn't experienced yet like zoos and museums.

“babes.” rafe calls out. “we're here.”

“oh my gosh.” you let out a yawn, stretching your back out from the awkward hunched position against the car seat. “that went by so fast.”

“thats what happens when you sleep the whole way.” rafe chuckles.

“shut up.” you giggle, leaning between the front seats to press a kiss to his lips. “thanks for driving us. we love you so much.”

you know you can speak for your daughter, it's so evident how much daisy loves rafe, even if she can't find the words yet.

“love you too, baby.” rafe looks back at daisy, the mirror set up on the headrest of the seat to give him a view of her face. “we should get inside quick, she's gonna wake up hungry.”

“ugh, my poor boobs.” you whine. you love getting to breastfeed daisy, and feel so lucky that you have a good milk supply, but it is hard on your body as well.

“you're amazing.” rafe says earnestly. you turned his life around completely when you began dating him, and it only got even better when daisy was born. he made a pact while she was still inside your tummy to get his shit together, mend his life that was broken.

“oh, shush.” you blush, rafe still able to make you feel shy to this day.

you get out of the car, looking at the airbnb. you swear it looks even better in person, the warm sun beautifully illuminating the white stand as you walk in, punching in the code that you had already memorized.

you know rafe is bringing daisy in, so you take a moment to inspect the house, the two bedrooms and one nursery as well as the open living area, big windows pointing out to the ocean.

you hear daisys cries before rafe enters with her in his arms. “she's ready for you.”

you take her quickly, sitting down in the plush armchair as you adjust your shirt and nursing bra to free your nipple, which she quickly latches onto.

you can hear rafe bringing in your bags and everything you need for daisy as you nurse and stare out at the ocean.

“all done, baby?” you ask her after she pulls away, a blissed out, happy look on her face.

“ill burp her.” rafe picks daisy up from your arms before you even realize it, clearly missing his girl as you close up your bra and pull your shirt down. you follow rafe out onto the back deck, wrapping your arms around his waist as you listen to the familiar sounds of waves hitting the shore.

“are you tired from the drive?” you ask him. “you can nap and ill entertain daisy and make us dinner.”

“im okay.” rafe turns around to tug you into his side. “and let's just order pizza or something, this is vacation, you don't have to cook.”

“okay.” you get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before leaning back against his side. you'll order later, after you've started out at the ocean with him, the uninterrupted sea of blue.

“ah, ah, ah.” rafe stops you, taking the baby carrier out of your hands. “ill wear her.”

you nod, grabbing the diaper bag and slinging it over your shoulder, which rafe also takes after he puts the carrier on.

“baby, i can carry something.” you laugh as he gets poppy out of her carseat, her cries instantly stopping now that she's free of the car.

“i know you can. but im a good husband, and i got it.”

“okay.” you shrug. “whatever you want baby.”

rafe loads daisy into the carrier, adjusting her to face outward so she can see all of the animals as you walk through the zoo.

“sunscreen.” you remind rafe, putting the cream onto daisys delicate skin. you swipe it across rafes nose as he makes a face.

“you need it too.” you chastise, smearing it across his face, rubbing it all in so he's not embarrassed. you'd already applied sunscreen underneath your makeup at the cottage earlier, so you just refresh your exposed shoulders.

you make quick work of admissions at the zoo, having already bought your tickets online.

“what do you wanna see first, baby?” rafe asks, hand looped together tight with yours.

“umm, how about the red pandas?” you motion towards the asia section of the zoo.

“sounds perfect.” rafe very willingly follows you throughout, daisy happily watching the animals as well as smiling at anyone who passes by.

“stop, they're so cute!” you coo as you look at the pandas. “i want to pet one.”

“don't tempt me to figure out a way for you to do that, baby.” rafe laughs, your pout quickly disappearing off your face, knowing it's not beyond rafe to bribe a zookeeper to let you feel the red pandas fluffy tail.

“what would you like to see, daisy girl?” you coo, rubbing your fingers over her cheeks.

“let's check out the chimpanzees and then we should probably find a place for you to nurse.” rafe is well aware of daisys feeding schedule, and you had to choose between taking her to the zoo during nap time or having to figure out feeding her during the trip.

“sounds good.” you allow rafe to loop his arm around your waist.

rafe is just as delighted by the chimps swinging across their play structure as daisy is, her hands clapping together, chubby cheeks pushed up in a happy smile.

she cries when you walk away, but you recognize that the attitude is mostly from her being hungry.

“come on, baby.” you coo, finding a quiet shaded area with a comfortable bench.

you cover your front with a light blanket as rafe sits next to you, gently rubbing your shoulder and stroking over your hair as daisy feeds.

“she's probably gonna take like a 15 minute milk nap after this.” you say to rafe. “we can go check out the natural history museum.”

“good idea.” rafe nods. “i know how much you like to read random ass signs.”

“ugh, not my fault i like to learn information! unlike you, dummy.”

“hey.” rafe tickles his finger into the crook for your neck.

daisy falls asleep when she's done nursing, just as you predicted. you tuck her into the crook of your arm, not wanting to risk transferring her to the baby carrier, she'd most certainly wake up.

rafes hand stays on your back throughout the entire museum. you look through every sign, every taxidermied animal and the prehistoric scenes of the area the zoo has set up.

daisy stirs in your arms as you walk outside, the afternoon sun on her face waking her up. “hey princess.” you tell her, always surprised how quickly she recovers from her naps, now wide awake seconds later.

“wanna go to daddy? yeah?” you hand her over to go back into the baby carrier, heading towards the north america section. you like seeing the moose, and rafe the brown bears, while daisy gets an absolute kick out of the american otters, watching them swish through the water and flip off the glass partition.

you continue through most of the zoo, deciding to rush through the aquarium and skip the africa section as daisys nap time quickly approaches.

you exit the zoo hand in hand with rafe, and for once daisy doesn't fight being put in her carseat as she instantly falls asleep.

daisy is sitting in between your legs, giggling as she runs her hands through the sand. you keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't try to experiment and eat any, but you're also distracted by rafe sitting shirtless next to you.

“when daisy is older, we should take her to the west coast so we can watch the sunset over the ocean.” he says, moving closer to you to wrap his arm around you.

“id love that. its so fun bringing her places.” you know daisy is too young to remember this trip, but she has loved staying someplace different, getting to see all sorts of new things.

you head back home tomorrow, back to the reality of the outer banks.

“baby girl is gonna be beyond spoiled.” rafe laughs softly, leaning forward to readjust the bow on the top of her head.

“if you spoil her as much as you spoil me, she sure will.” you lean into rafes side, gently watching the waves until daisy starts to get tired and bored, crawling back towards you.

“nursing then bedtime, alright daisy?” you coo at her, picking her up as you walk with rafe back into the cottage, dusting your sandy feet off before going in. “it's a long drive again tomorrow and daddy needs a good sleep.”

“mmm, i was hoping after you put her down we could…” rafe clears his throat. your eyes widen, understanding what he means.

“yeah.” you nod, sitting down in the armchair that has become your prime feeding place over the weekend trip. “id really love that.”

“perfect.” rafe bends to press a kiss to your forehead. “im gonna go shower. let me know if you need any help getting her down.”

daisy happily latches onto your boob, pulling off when she's about halfway done as she gets fussy.

“oh, girly.” you giggle. “you're just tired!”

you move into the nursery to change her into pajamas as well as make sure she has a fresh diaper before finishing feeding her. by the time you set her down in the crib, she's out like a light.

you grab the baby monitor and bring it into your bedroom, smiling when you see rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, towel wrapped around his hips, hair still slightly wet from the shower.

“she's asleep?” he confirms as you place the baby monitor on the dresser.

“she is.” you move quickly over to rafe, bending to press a kiss to his lips as your hands move quickly to undo his towel, opening the damp fabric to reveal his cock.

you kiss as your hand explores his length, feeling it harden beneath your fingertips before you begin to stroke.

“you're gonna kill me, baby.” rafe groans against your lips. “ive missed your hands so much.”

“missed this too.” you confirm. sex with rafe has been scarce since daisy. your body took a while to recover, and while he was patient throughout that, even once you were ready to have sex, daisy often interrupted you by needing her diaper changed or to be rocked back to sleep.

“come on, i want to see you.” rafe tugs at your shirt.

you stand to lose your tank top, removing your bra next. you still feel a little insecure about your stomach. you lost a bit of the weight you gained throughout pregnancy, but you don't know if you'll ever get back to how you were before.

“hey-” rafe stands, seeming to sense your feelings. “you're beautiful.”

“thank you.” you say, tears welling up in your eyes, but not from your insecurities, but from the sheer love you have for rafe.

“now get on the bed so i can show you how beautiful i find you.”

you take your pants and underwear off as you lay down, placing your head on the pillows as you look up at rafe. you used to be much more adventurous when it came to sex, trying out different positions or even introducing toys, but just like in many other ways, being a parent has made your sex more boring.

rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your folds. until daisy is much older and always sleeps through the night, there's still a chance she will wake up, so speed is of the essence.

rafe lines his cock up, pushing it inside of your tight heat with a low groan, needing to stay pretty quiet to not wake daisy, glad that the ocean out the window is providing her some white noise.

“god, you feel so good.” rafe says, eyelids fluttering closed as he stills, allowing you to adjust to his length.

you let out a moan, reaching up to wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling his body against yours.

your chest rubs together as rafe begins to thrust, thankfully not moving too much as your nipples are so sensitive they sometimes hurt.

“i love you.” you whisper to rafe. “i love you so much.”

“we should have a wedding.” rafe says mid-thrust, making your eyes widen as he continues talking. “we should renew our vows when daisy is old enough to be our flower girl.”

“okay.” you nod. you have no problem with throwing an actual party to celebrate your marriage, considering when you found out you were pregnant and told rafe, you settled for a small and quick courthouse wedding with just a few family members and friends in attendance.

“i just love you so much.” he says, voice slightly strained as he continues thrusting.

“i know.” you lean up again to press your lips against his, his mouth staying slightly ajar as he pants.

“i love daisy too. i love our family.” rafe is moving so fast inside of you, rambling as he fucks you. “i wanna have more kids. after we renew our vows and i give you the wedding you deserve.”

“okay.” you giggle, smiling up at rafe. “we can do all of that, baby. we have all the time in the world.”

rafe nods, eyes closing as he concentrates on moving his hips just how you like it, the same motions that got you pregnant with daisy, now prevented from happening again with your daily pill.

“close.” rafe warns, and you're not far off either, only needing a couple more thrusts before you cum with a muffled shout, having covered your mouth with your hand just in time.

your cunt squeezing around him as your high pushes through your body is all rafe needs to spill inside of you with a soft moan of your name.

his arms give out as he rests on top of you, but you don't mind the weight as you stroke your fingers through his short hair.

it's comforting, the silence, the way your bodies are pressed together, but it's interrupted by a cry through the baby monitor.

“i got her.” rafe says before you can even react. he pushes himself out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats before rushing into the nursery.

you take a moment to reach over to the tissues on the nightstand, cleaning yourself off at least good enough for the night as you wrap the blankets around yourself.

you try to stay awake until rafe comes back in, to tell him yet again how much you love him, but by the time he's done changing daisys diaper and gets her back to sleep, you're deep in sleep.

rafe smiles as he reenters the bedroom, seeing you all wrapped up with a slight smile on your face as you dream. rafe lays down next to you, wondering how he ever got so lucky.

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chilling-seavey · 3 days

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Dreamland (ln4) - Part One

↳ A/N Big thank you to @starlightiing for taking the time to talk this out with me & mega thank you to @norrussell for being my un-official beta reader and hyping this new universe up 🤭

↳ [Very Loosely] Inspired By: 'Heat Waves' by Glass Animals

↳ Summary: As a flunking university student in dreary Bristol, Lando is sure there’s another life waiting for him elsewhere. A life that he can only dream of living with the girl with a million dollar career, verified instagram, and a stunning smile that he swears was created for him. But maybe those dreams stray no farther than his phone screen.

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 6.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, male masturbation, he humps his bed a little (whoops), dirty talk (stemming from his imagination and his inner most desires), Lando's so incredibly down bad for a girl who doesn't know he exists

In the large university classroom, Lando tapped the end of his pencil against the edge of his calculator, his thick textbook open and his notebook page resting on top of it, blank. At the head of the large lecture hall, his professor was walking through the lecture on the overhead projector, showing step by step instructions for their task that day. As an accounting student, Lando might have at least feigned a bit of interest in the lesson on revenues and expenses but his eyes were nearly glazed over, his mind lost in thought, and his page far behind his peers.

His mind only ever drifted to one thing when his interest wasn’t being immediately taken and that was you. You didn’t know it - in fact, you didn’t even know who Lando was - but he spent his daydreams letting his mind wander to various instances with you that he could only pray would be real some day. That day in particular, he was thinking about how sunny and warm it probably was in Monte Carlo for you compared to the late-winter rain that was pelting Bristol in that very same moment. The rain on the windows caused the professor’s voice to nearly be drowned out despite the fact that he spoke loudly to try and speak over it. Lando was too far past bored to bother trying to listen harder.

As his classmates worked diligently around him, Lando slouched back in his chair near the back of the classroom and glanced down at his phone that was lying face up on the table beside his textbook. As if meant to be, the screen lit up with a silent Instagram notification indicating that you had just posted.

His heart did a little leap and he glanced over casually to his professor still lecturing as he slid his phone off the table and held it in his lap to peek. Your birthdate was his passcode - two digit month and two digit date - and he tapped on Instagram from his home screen that was wallpapered with a selfie of yours (a picture he used to tell strangers whom he wouldn’t see again that you were his girlfriend…long distance of course). Your post was at the top of his feed and before his eyes even processed the image, he double tapped to like it. The little white heart appeared in the middle of the post, right over your chest, and then disappeared.

“Mr Norris.”

His head snapped up from his lap before he could graze your post with even a sliver of as much attention as you deserved, only to see his professor staring at him from the front of the lecture hall with a displeased expression and his arms crossed over his chest. A few students turned to look at Lando. He locked his phone and slid it shyly into his pocket.

“Mr Norris, I certainly don’t think your current GPA is permitting you to take the risk of slacking off on your phone in my class, now is it?”

Lando swallowed thickly as everyone was staring at him and a few of the other students chuckled to themselves at the professor’s diss.

“No. Sorry.” Lando answered softly.

“Manners and respect, Mr Norris.”

“No…s-sir.” Lando forced out, physically shifting in his chair at the discomfort it brought him to follow the strange order of his professor to call him sir as a form of respect. Of course, Lando would never outright admit why it made him uncomfortable. He certainly wouldn’t want to face the embarrassment of admitting how he secretly savoured that title for your lips only, how he fantasized of you calling him that and only you. Having to refer to his sixty-something male professor as such left a nasty taste in Lando’s mouth.

Without the distraction of his phone, Lando was stuck spending the rest of the class dooling on his notebook paper to make it seem like he was working. He might have been a twenty-year-old adult but he still found himself pulling the tip of his pencil along the lined paper to form the curve of your silhouette that had been engraved in his mind since you posted that beach picture back in the summer. His bottom lip was captured between his teeth as he distracted his mind from the post he had yet to appreciate by sketching his pencil lightly to form the curve of your breasts. He erased his messy sketch before anyone could peek over his shoulder.

The three hour class was far too excruciating even if he only had to endure half of it wondering about your post he had yet to see. It was driving him crazy in near suspense. The moment the class was dismissed, Lando rushed to put his textbook in his backpack and nearly shoved himself between the crowd of classmates taking their sweet time descending the stairs in the lecture hall towards the exit.

The university hallway was a relief of cool air and Lando hiked his backpack higher on his one shoulder as he stopped just around the corner out of the classroom door and he pulled his phone from his pocket. He ignored his dozens of missed messages and went right back to your profile and opened your new post.

At only the first glance his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and he slouched his shoulder against the nearby wall with a deep exhale, eyes unblinking as he admired the pixels that made up the image of you on his screen. Additional images from a magazine photoshoot, you were wearing nothing but an oversized white button up shirt, the collar pulled open and unbuttoned near the top to show your collarbones, and your lips were painted in a glossy red. Naturally cut hair fell in a purposefully messy hair sprayed style around your shoulders and the direct stare you held to the camera with your very light makeup dusting your eyes had Lando’s chest clenching. He had to physically hold a hand to his heart for a moment as he swiped through the three similar images you posted, each with a near perfected lustful stare with your lips just slightly parted and your hands hiding your chest from the slightly see-through material of the white shirt.

Quiet among the bustling university hallway, Lando breathed out a soft, “Jesus.”

He turned to rest back against the wall properly and he brought both hands to his phone to bring it a little closer to his face to really stare. He licked his lips habitually and then opened the comments on the post. He liked a few from your just-as-well-known friends and ignored the ones from other fans that would just make him cringe and he started to compose his own comment.

landonorris: holy shit you’re so beautiful 🧡

When he posted his comment he scrolled back to the picture and zoomed in to take in every single part of you that he could before he was opening his messages. Lando didn’t have too many friends in university but he didn’t mind because he had a good few internet friends instead who honestly were so much better than ‘physical’ friends. They understood and accepted Lando’s little love sick crush on you and nothing felt better than that.

alex_albon: MATE DID YOU SEE alex_albon: LANDO!!!!! alex_albon: DUDE SHES HOT alex_albon: COME GET YOUR GIRL alex_albon: LANDO alex_albon: LAN ARE YOU STILL ALIVE???

Lando could hardly hold back his grin right in the middle of the hallway as he quickly responded to his closest friend.

landonorris: MATE IM NOT OKAY landonorris: I had to wait through my entire class until I could look properly omfg landonorris: She’s literally so fucking stunning oh my GODJHFHFJ landonorris: Minemineminemine 🤤 alex_albon: YES I KNOW OMG alex_albon: YOURS alex_albon: GO GET HER landonorris: God I wish she wasn’t so fucking far away UGJGEBHRG this is UNFAIR 😩 alex_albon: Finish your degree and then go have BABIES 🤪 landonorris: HAHAHAH MATE omfg relax!! alex_albon: Hey you said it first, I’m just being a supportive best friend

Lando swiped out of their dms only to return to your post and he couldn’t hide his smitten grin as he admired you. Alex wasn’t wrong because Lando often thought about a future with you; having babies with you, living in Monte Carlo with you, and following you around the world on your book tours. He was adamant that he was going to make that happen one way or another. He was going to have you fall in love with him just as he had with you.

alex_albon: Wow leave me on seen okay landonorris: Sorry sorry sorry I was a little busy staring at a certain someone alex_albon: Don’t drool on your phone mateeee 😉😉

Lando had met Alex online only a year prior through his online blog he kept about you. He had wracked up a good following by posting little journal entries and sketches and a few short concepts here and there and, of course, posting your pictures like it was his day job to run an update account. Alex wasn’t as much of a fan of yours as Lando was but from the moment they first messaged, they hit it off and became close through the distant connections of the internet. With Lando in Bristol and Alex in London, they weren’t too far spread but they had yet to meet and that probably wouldn’t happen for a while since neither had the money nor means to make a trip cross-country. Their daily messages certainly made up for the distance.

Lando had one more unread message in his Instagram dms and he left the thread with Alex to choose a song, slide in his AirPods, and tend to the next waiting friend as he started to walk back towards his dorm.

georgerussell63: Oh wow she always posts when you’re in class huh georgerussell63: Blimey she looks stunning in this post too geeeeez georgerussell63: Ugh mums calling me for supper but I’ll be back georgerussell63: Message me when you’re free!!!

George was the farthest away from Bristol in King's Lynn right on the opposite coast of the country. Just like with Alex, George and Lando met through his blog and became close quickly too. Lando was sure there were no two more supportive friends than Alex and George and their daily reassurances that someday you were going to love him back honestly was the one thing keeping Lando going.

Lando navigated the busy university hallways with ease while he typed his excited reply to his other close internet friend, tuned out from the world by his curated playlist and wandering mind.

landonorris: Mate I KNOW I’m literally not okay pfjfjfkjng landonorris: It's like she KNOWS I’m busy omg but how can I be mad at her landonorris: LOOK at her landonorris: Like plz ruin my life???? 🤤

The rain that came down hard onto the Bristol university campus didn’t phase Lando as he tucked the hood of his sweater up over his head and hurried down the pathways back to the dormitories. He clutched his phone in the front pocket of his hoodie as if the lingering memory of your image would somehow be left behind in the downpour on his walk home. Like hell he was going to let you go that easily.

The dry lobby of the residence building had him sighing in relief from the rain and he pulled off his hood as he fished his key card from his pocket. With a swipe to the interior doors, he was permitted into the elevator lobby and he smacked the call button a few times impatiently as he brought your Instagram back up on his phone. Safe from class and passing students, Lando let his thoughts drift to less of just she’s beautiful and more of I wish she wasn’t covering herself up.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Lando stepped in without a look up and pressed his floor button out of complete muscle memory, all without taking his eyes off your images. He zoomed in again as he slumped against the back wall of the elevator and his lip was captured by his teeth again as your lightly manicured hands covered your breasts from the camera but the fair material of the white button up shirt had him able to see the slightest colouration of your nipple in the second image. His finger moved the zoomed in picture so he could see more of you and his eyes greedily soaked up the way the shirt hung loose around your thighs and rose up almost to your hips with how you were professionally positioned.

His thoughts were turning dirtier faster and he nearly hurried down the hallway to his room to have some privacy. Lando closed the suite door behind him and glanced into his roommates room only to find it empty before he was dropping his backpack to the floor just inside his own room. He had never been more thankful for his roommate to have later classes and despite the fact he was alone in their shared suite, Lando still closed his bedroom door behind him just in case.

His room wasn’t much different than that of any other twenty-year-old college boy with a bit of mess around the corners - clothes tossed aside and stray papers littering his desk - but on the shelf of his closet he had lined up in pristine condition, your few published novels in date release order. Lando never once called himself a reader and in fact he had always hated English in school, but when he came across a promo video on social media about your recent release, he became a little intrigued. He was more intrigued by you at first and he spent one night scrolling through your verified social media feeds before he ended up adding your debut novel to his Amazon shopping cart in a sleep deprived, curious, heart-eyed rush at 3:00 in the morning.

He would proudly admit that yours were the only books he had voluntarily read since he was a kid.

Finally back in the comfort of his own room, Lando pulled off his rain soaked hoodie and tossed it into his laundry pile in the corner of his closet and flicked on his bedside light. The rain outside caused the sky to turn dark far too quickly for mid-afternoon, but Lando couldn’t be bothered to close his blinds before he was flopping stomach first across his double bed to spend the next however long admiring your complete existence shamelessly.

He literally felt warm all over when he looked at you, his heart always squeezed so tightly in his chest until he could feel each thudding beat that he swore was only ever just for you. You drove him crazy and you didn’t even know it.

Lando blindly kicked off his muddy sneakers from his feet dangling off the end of his bed with his gaze captured all on your image. Having admired your body in the elevator, he took to your face now, making sure to give every pixel its deserved share of attention. Despite it being a magazine shoot, you only wore limited makeup so the focus was all on your red painted lips but your eyes that were lined with thin eyeliner and magnifying mascara had his attention all over you regardless. He swore you were staring at him like you knew what he wanted from you, like you knew what you were doing, and he could only stare right back.

He shifted on his bed with a small hum as the admiration of your beauty was going right to his crotch but he barely paid any mind to anything else as he focused all on your lips. Lando’s mind was whirling with so many thoughts as his gaze lingered on your glossy red lips that were parted just so and looked nothing less than fucking irresistable.

A message popped down from the top of Lando’s screen in the middle of his admiration session.

alex_albon: What r u up to?

Lando tapped it to open their messaging thread and he typed his momentary string of thoughts without second guessing, always able to word vomit into his friends’ dms without fear of being shamed for a single word.

landonorris: I want her to suck my dick alex_albon: DAMN okay I see what you’re up to alex_albon: Just dreaming about your wife haha landonorris: No mate you don’t understand landonorris: I literally want those perfect red lips around my dick landonorris: I fucking crave it landonorris: And I want to kiss her literally all over and worship her body and grab her tits and smack her ass and I want to make her moan my name landonorris: And I want to cum all over her face while she’s looking up at me like in that pic giving me those fucking eyes alex_albon: Oh my God mate 😦 pffhjffjfj you're down bad landonorris: FUCK ME THIS ISNT FAIR alex_albon: I know!!! She’d be fucking stupid to not want you Lan alex_albon: You’re literally made for each other landonorris: PLZ I want her so bad it's not funny landonorris: She’s so fucking pretty landonorris: I want to knock her up mate alex_albon: Only if I can be the godfather landonorris: Maybe we’ll have twins so you and George can share the honour lol alex_albon: Honestly I’m down landonorris: Literally just looking at her gets me so fucking horny it will NOT be hard to make twins first try ngl alex_albon: LMAO 😏 landonorris: Haha okay it’s raining here and I just got back to my dorm so imma shower brb alex_albon: Yeah okay go enjoy that 😏 landonorris: Lol stfu landonorris: 🧡

Maybe his friends kind of knew him too well but Lando didn’t want to let on too much so he played Alex’s teasing off before closing their messages and returning to your post. He screenshotted all three images and then held himself up on his forearm with his phone in hand as his other hand slid down to unbuckle his belt. He shifted onto his side just enough to take his belt off and then pop the buttons on his black jeans before pushing them down his legs and he flailed his ankles a little to get his pants to drop to the floor with his discarded shoes. Now in only his underwear and his t-shirt, Lando rolled back onto his stomach fully with a small sigh.

He could feel himself getting a little hard by only the thoughts rushing through his mind - and by the sight of your new pictures of course - and he kept them going as he turned back to his phone. The screenshots of your post were in his camera roll and he opened them up to crop out the instagram banners and comments so it was only you taking up his screen. He smiled at the sight of you in the dim sultry lighting of the photoshoot studio you were in and the crisp warm light that lit you up like an angel.

The second image was his favourite of your post between the teasing little slip of your breast behind the fair shirt and the way your eyes were a bit wider, more innocent and sultry, and he could nearly see the line of your panties with how the shirt was slightly raised at the bottom. He imagined them to be as red as your lipstick and lacey and tiny…imagining that peeking up the bottom of the oversized shirt you wore would give him a greedy view of your soft hips cradling the red lace that barely covered anything.

Lando was nearly staring at his phone like he was staring right into your eyes right beside him, nothing but adoration spread through his eyes and the blush of growing lust staining his cheeks in pink. He barely noticed how he was grinding down slightly against his bed, his body swirling in slow precise motions, dreaming for the touch of your soft hand.

The very same hands that covered your breasts in the images you posted, resting gently against your chest to keep yourself decent - you were a modest artist after all, thank you. He just knew you’d be so soft, that you’d touch him in all the right places, tease him with the sight of your body meant just for him. He had never been with anyone before which was another thing he would have hated to admit to anyone, but he knew more than ever that he wanted to give it up to you. He wanted you to be his first for everything that he had yet to check off…he wanted you to be the first woman he ever had in his arms and ever had in his bed. He just knew you would treat him right.

That concept was only solidified by the third book of yours that he had read, engrossed in the pages, illuminated by the light beside his bed back at home, as he was privy to the filthiest, hottest, most intricately detailed sex scene he had ever read. Well, the only one he had ever read. Lando didn’t know it was even possible to publish something so risky but the knowledge that you equipped into your writing only proved his concept that you would be the best partner he could ever have.

With a swipe from the top of his screen, he put his phone on do not disturb to prevent any notifications from popping up while he was trying to have a moment alone with you. He cradled your picture on his phone in both hands as he let the lust work for him, shamelessly grinding against his bed without breaking his gaze from your body, your face, your everything. He couldn’t nearly feel the warmth of your skin right next to him and the plush feeling of one of your thighs nudged between his legs. There was nothing he craved more than the friction of your body on his and his imagination thrived at the concept of having you underneath him, just like that in the picture with your light makeup and plush red lips, wearing his shirt.

Lando just wished he could kiss you too, staining his lips with your lipstick and how you would leave a trail down his neck in your wake. He zoomed in on your picture some more and set his phone down on the sheets between his forearms, staring right into your captured eyes as he pulled his body back and forth against his bed and his hands wrapped around the edge of the mattress. He moaned breathily at the friction and rolled his hips into his sheets strongly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth slightly, dreaming it to be you he was grinding against.

The ache between his legs was growing and his cheeks only flushed more as he grew harder at the simple pleasure of the sheets against his clothed cock and the image of you beneath him. With a soft exhale, Lando propped himself up a bit with one hand flat to the mattress so he was on a bit of an angle and he glanced down his body as his hips ground in strong precise curling thrusts against the bed.

He breathed your name into his room as he looked back down at your picture, soaking in your nearly lustful gaze staring right back at him. He moaned lightly as his hips started to move faster and he was nearly humping his bed in overwhelming pleasure, fingers gripping onto the edge of the sheets.

“Fuck, okay,” Lando huffed out as he forced himself to stop quickly, groaning at the sudden halt of that sweet friction. He slid his hands underneath him and pushed himself onto his knees, sitting back on his heels, and took a second to stare down at the bulge in his underwear. It physically ached and he just wanted you to touch it for him. He wanted you to see how hard he could get for you.

The image of you standing at the side of his bed in front of him in only that white button up and nothing else had him quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor and then shuffling out of his underwear. Left completely naked, Lando only dreamt of you staring at him, and his eyes gravitated to that picture again just to remind himself of how fucking stunning you were to him. It would be an honour to have you.

“Want you to suck my dick.” he whispered into the air as he faintly traced the head of his dick with his fingers, “Wanna feel that pretty mouth, baby.”

If you created stories, he was going to create stories. The filthiest imaginative little stories of everything he wanted to do to you, for only you to (hopefully) be privy to one day. He leaned over slightly and tugged open the drawer of his nightstand and fished around for the small clear bottle he had hidden in the back. He had no experience but he figured if he were to replicate your mouth as realistically as he could, he would need to make it as wet as possible. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten himself off to the thought of you and the small bottle of lube that he kept hidden away was of no thanks to the spiciest, hottest scenes in your romance novels. He may have been a raging virgin but he was no stranger to touch.

There had never been one time that he jerked off and didn’t think of you. It was always you. He could only imagine you crawling slowly towards him across his bed in only that white shirt and your tiny red panties as he poured a generous glob of lube into his hand before tossing the bottle haphazardly across the bed sheets. Still sitting back on his heels, Lando spread his thighs apart slightly and smeared the lube in his right hand to warm it up a bit before he was staring down at your picture in front of him and he wrapped his hand around his dick.

Lando sunk his teeth into his bottom lip with a small groan and slid his hand up the shaft of his cock slowly, savouring the soaking wet feeling from his palm. He thought of you between his legs, draped on your stomach with his shirt riding up your back so he could see the curve of your ass in those tiny lace panties and spank you as he wanted, all while you could take his dick in your warm, wet mouth. He could imagine it so well that his eyes literally fluttered as he exhaled strongly on the downstroke of his hand, dreaming about the lube being your spit instead. He wanted it so badly he was burning for it.

“Yeah, baby.” he breathed out, “Suck it.”

He moved his hand in steady strokes up and down his dick as if trying to mimic what he could only imagine your mouth would feel like. The lube smeared messily in his palm, between his fingers, and dripped down the length of his cock as he worked himself slowly but he was all too addicted to the disgusting wet squelch that it filled the room with. His breathing was heavy and his light grip he kept up pulled soft moans from his chest.

Your name fell from his lips again in a breathy whimper and he slid his hand up higher to pull little twisting strokes right around the head of his cock, his thighs physically flinching at the sensation. His head fell back with a groan and he moved his hand faster right there.

“Yeah.” he whimpered out, naturally starting to thrust up into his own touch a little, “Yes, yes, yeah, baby, fuck-”

But he slowed it down to make it last, choking out a soft cry as he dragged his hand down in long slow strokes to ease the rising pressure again and he lolled his head to the side as he peered down at your picture again resting up on his bed sheets. His breaths fell heavier and as his impatient desperation grew, he had to move to a better position.

The images in his mind followed the shift as he grabbed his phone with his left hand and could almost vividly picture you climbing on top of him as he draped himself backwards against his pillows. He craved to touch every inch of your skin for real but his imagination did him temporary justice as he pictured you unbuttoning his shirt to drape it open and give him a greedy view of your bare breasts and beautiful body. Lando bit his bottom lip again as he gave himself a few more lingering seconds of soaking up every inch of your picture in his phone before he was making a fist and lowering it down onto the tip of his dick so he could imagine what it would feel like to truly slip inside your cunt.

“Oh, God, baby.” Lando whimpered at the tight squeeze of his lubed up hand, not tearing his eyes away from your image for even a second, “Shit, you feel so good.”

But if he shut his eyes, it almost felt so real; like you were truly there in his dorm room and bouncing on his dick. The image was so vivid in his mind to the point that he could see the bounce of your breasts and the mess of your hair and the smudge of your fair makeup, your tiny lace panties simply pushed to the side. The sound of his hand on himself was easily enough replicated and he sped it up a little more with a lingering groan, his head tossed back against his pillow.

Lando’s breathy praise was spoken to no one, “Good girl. Fuck- good girl, baby, just like that.”

He took one last look at your picture on his phone before he had to drop it to reach out and grab his thigh with a strangled whimper. He knew your face better than anything so resorting to just his imagination wasn’t a difficult task and he did so gladly. Being alone, there wasn’t too much of a need to be quiet but Lando tended to anyway, only letting out the smallest little whimpers and moans between his shallow breaths as the pleasure drew through his veins.

The craving for you was so intense Lando felt almost dizzy and he fabricated you taking his whole cock deep inside you over, and over, and over, faster and faster. He choked out a little moan as his hand sped up and his head tossed back sharply against the pillows as his nails raked up his thigh in overwhelm.

“Fuuuck-”

Lando’s hand flew to his hair and he grabbed a tight handful as his hips started bucking up into his hand slightly, his moans only getting louder and he could nearly hear yours too, he swore. He just wished he could get his hands on you to grab your hips and fuck up into you or to grab your breasts and watched your face fall into pleasure. He dreamt of what your pussy felt like when you would cum around him, definitely knowing that his hand would never compare no matter how hard he tried to attempt to replicate it.

“Oh God.” he squeaked out, his voice tightening in strain as he grew closer. His jaw clenched as he raised his head up to watch his lubed up hand get faster as the tip of his aching cock leaked for orgasm, groaning through his teeth, “Yes, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.”

Lando’s brain was flooded with your face, your body, every single one of his favourite pictures of you making up this never ending flow of stunning brilliance that he wanted to absolutely take advantage of in the best way. If you were anything like your writing, you knew how to fuck and Lando wanted all of it. Most importantly, he wanted you.

Faint sweat was forming at his hairline as he fucked up into his hand that was feverishly stroking his cock, his chest rising and falling in anticipation as he gripped the back of his hair and spread his legs a little wider. His moans were getting more pathetic, more desperate, more pleading and he couldn’t stop picturing you on top of him.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he squeaked out quickly, “Lemmy cum inside you. Please, let me cum inside you.”

He fell silent for a second, only rasping out a ‘yes’ and your name, and his hand worked him right into orgasm. His mouth fell open and his head dropped back against the pillows as a little dribble of white spurted gently from his tip and fell onto his hand followed by a second. He stroked himself slower, really pulling and twisting to get more out as his hips ground up and a good shot streaked right up his faint abs.

“Yes.” he breathed through his teeth, slowing right down, and his breath froze in his chest for a second as more leaked from his tip and he could feel his cock physically pulsing in his hand. Lando bit down on his bottom lip as he moaned out of his orgasm. “Mm, fuck.”

He took a second to steady his breathing a little - and to imagine you falling onto the bed beside him and swallowing him up in pleasurable blissed out tired kisses - and then he reached over to his night stand to grab a tissue from the box. He wiped off his hand and then grabbed another to clean up the few streaks across his stomach and the tip of his dick before throwing them into the small garbage bin beside his bed. With a little pleased smile and a soft sigh, Lando rolled over to grab his underwear from the ground and pulled them on as he got off his bed.

When he glanced back over his shoulder at the wrinkled sheets, he could only see your picture still on his phone as the true shape of your body laying there watching him get up, your cheeks flushed and hair a mess and shirt left unbuttoned to expose your chest to him. And you’d smile at him so adoringly that it honestly made his heart flutter and he wished he could really see you leaking with his cum right onto his duvet.

In his underwear, Lando slipped out of his room into the silent suite that was still missing his roommate and helped himself to the bathroom sink to wash his hands. He took one last look in the mirror, brushing his hand over his once styled hair, and then returned to his room and closed the door behind him.

Lando smiled at your picture that was still on his phone screen when he returned and he sat back down on his bed and slouched back against the headboard as he closed the photos app and removed do not disturb from settings. Instagram popped up with two notifications and Lando’s guess was correct that it was his two friends waiting for him. Since he hadn’t been able to properly talk to George yet since he was eating, he opened his messages first.

georgerussell63: I’m back! georgerussell63: She just left you a little treat for after class lmao georgerussell63: I’m surprised I didn’t come back to spicy messages from you georgerussell63: Who are you and what have you done with Lando? georgerussell63: Haha

Then, a few minutes later, his friend’s casual banter shifted into the kind of messages Lando dreaded to read.

georgerussell63: Mate, wait did you see? :/ georgerussell63: Wait probably not because I know you have him blocked georgerussell63: Do you want to know? georgerussell63: Idk where you are but I’ll just tell you anyway georgerussell63: It’s HIS shirt that she’s wearing :/ georgerussell63: Hello??

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he shifted in place at the sudden feeling of a sharp blade piercing his chest ached his heart. He rubbed his hand over his chest and then worded a simple response.

landonorris: What the fuck

He swiped out of his conversation with George and opened Alex’s to see similar messages waiting for him.

alex_albon: Oh my God mate alex_albon: Ok warning now, you’re not going to like this alex_albon: She reposted HIS story on hers alex_albon: He was at the photoshoot and it’s his shirt she’s wearing in the post alex_albon: I’m literally so angry for you alex_albon: Lando? alex_albon: Hope you didn’t drown

Lando didn’t know what to say other than a repeat of,

landonorris: What the fuck

It had been a few months since you had publicly announced that you were dating some random influencer guy that Lando had barely heard about. Another thing he’d never admit? That he cried four times that day over it. It was a part of you that he should have been supportive of knowing that if you were happy then he should be happy, but it honestly just made him feel like trash, like some irrelevant stupid fanboy, and completely hopeless in love. In fact, to put it truthfully, Lando loathed the sight of your boyfriend. He loathed the sound of his name. He never would dream to hate another human being but your boyfriend pushed him pretty damn close to that.

Lando just knew you could do so much better.

You could do so much better with him.

georgerussell63: I’m so sorry mate alex_albon: I’m so sorry buddy alex_albon: I will literally fight this man for you

Lando suddenly felt so dirty but not in the way that he had planned as the concept of having been staring at you in his shirt and jerking off to you in his shirt suddenly made him want to throw up. Cheeks pink with anger, Lando did the only thing he could honestly do in that moment: rant to his best friends in their group chat.

landonorris: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me landonorris: Why is he literally everywhere landonorris: Why is he all over her all the fucking time??? landonorris: Does he not have a job??? landonorris: Can I not have one nice thing?? landonorris: These were her best pictures yet and he fucking ruined them landonorris: Why is she wearing his shirt in a photoshoot? landonorris: WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE?? georgerussell63: This is so fucked alex_albon: I’m literally pissed off too alex_albon: I couldn’t even tell you what this man's job is georgerussell63: Don’t worry Lan you’re gonna get to her some day and she’s going to fall all over you 🤍 georgerussell63: You’re literally perfect for each other she just doesn’t know you yet alex_albon: But she will!! georgerussell63: Hell yeah she will alex_albon: He may be someone she’s in love with now but you’re gonna be the one she’s in love with forever georgerussell63: Oof Albono spitting facts 🔥 landonorris: Like what does he have that’s so great landonorris: He’s brunette?? landonorris: Oh wow nice georgerussell63: Is now the time to mention that so are you? landonorris: Whatever mate I’m desperate landonorris: It fucking hurts and I hate that it hurts georgerussell63: It’s gonna make you stronger georgerussell63: Like Kelly Clarkson said lol alex_albon: You’re gonna be so strong it’ll be like WWE level gains up in here 💪🏼💪🏼 georgerussell63: She’s gonna be all over those guns mate georgerussell63: Unbelievably sexy 🥵 landonorris: Omfg guys 😂😂 alex_albon: Ripping through shirts kind of strong georgerussell63: Absolutely demolishing weak boyfriends kind of strong landonorris: Might go to shake his hand like a gentleman and -oops sorry didn’t mean to break your arm mate georgerussell63: PFFFF LMFAO alex_albon: HAHA dkm omggg georgerussell63: 1000% alex_albon: Plus you can race and what kind of girl doesn’t literally swoon over a guy that can race fast cars landonorris: Bro barely landonorris: Talking about not even getting past F4 is not the way to impress a girl georgerussell63: Fuck F4 mate alex_albon: What do they know about talent georgerussell63: Yeah and you’ve got serious skill georgerussell63: Fly to Monaco and drive circles around that woman alex_albon: And bring us too!! georgerussell63: That’s a given

Lando smiled lightly to himself and slid farther down on his bed as his friends eased his conscious like it was their day jobs. His heart beat for you, that was undeniable, and there was a second of any day that went by where he wasn’t thinking about how to get to you.

landonorris: Next book tour idc I’m lining up at 4am to meet her landonorris: I bet she smells so good alex_albon: Siiiimp georgerussell63: Just please don’t say that to her face

PART TWO

Tag list: @brettlorenzi3

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

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arsenalfanf1 · 18 hours

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can I request a smut? if you don't wanna do it you can just ignore me ig, but i'd like something where lando is the one that always gives, he'd rather be the one to give than receive, but one day we're desperate so we basically beg him to sit down and let us suck him up, and when we do that he just becomes a mess, he ends up thrusting into our mouth while whining

You were desperate, you had saw photos of Lando on your timeline and how hot he looked and now all you could think about is pushing him onto the bed and sucking him off until he saw stars.

“Baby I’m home” you heard a voice say, you didn’t even realise the time, he had been out on the track today and had an early morning so this was the first time you would see him. “Hey love” you said meeting him in the kitchen, he had a tight fitting shirt showing off his abs. “I missed you today” you complained “I missed you too but I’m here now” he replied “Saw you showing off on twitter today looking all hot, made me horny” you complained “Sorry love” he kissed your mouth, before moving down to your neck thank god you wore a oversized top today.

He unbutton your jeans but before he could get any further you stopped him “please let me suck you off, all I’ve been thinking about all day please” you didn’t care how desperate you sounded you were desperate “Please sit down let me pleasure you for once” you very rarely got to give him head he would always been the one to pleasure you, he was never a selfish lover.

“I’m never going to say no” he unbuttoned his own jeans pushing them down to his ankles before sitting down on the seat, you had never done anything in the kitchen before thank god you spent the day cleaning it.

You got down on your knees and you pulled down his pants and took out his dick before you started stroking him, he was always hard “I can’t wait to put your cock I’m my mouth” after a couple seconds you felt he was ready, you licked the tip first licking his pre cum, moaning while doing so.

“Fuck we should have done this sooner” you complained. You took as much of him as you could in your mouth, playing with his balls. Lando was a moaning mess, he was so use to being the one giving head, he forgot how much he liked receiving it.

You could tell he was desperate, grabbing your hair and putting it into a ponytail gripping on it. “Fuck you take me so good pretty girl” he moaned out. “As much as I love it if git to fuck your mouth you would like that would you?” He asked already knowing your answer, you just nodded too focused on sucking him off.

He kept a hold of your hair and held you in place so he could thrust into your mouth “Fucking hell baby” he moaned, you had never been so turned on before, you wish you did this earlier.

“Look how pretty and desperate my girl looks” he said all matching with his thrusts. You couldn’t care how desperate you looked you were, you had been thinking about it for so long, he went too deep at times making you gag over his length.

“I’m gonna cum” he moaned out “where do you want it? Tits? Or mouth” he asked letting you reply “mouth” before he thrusted back into your mouth.

He cummed right in your mouth, slowing down his movements, talking about how good you did and how you would definitely do that again soon. “You taste so good baby” you moaned, trying to give him a kiss “no kisses till you brush your teeth I don’t want to taste myself” he complained, instead of fighting it you got up brushed your teeth and even used mouthwash before making your way back over to him to give him a big kiss.

—

Sorry it’s a short one trying to get my requests out I’m struggling a bit

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula one #formula 1 smut #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #formula one smut #f1 smut #f1 2024 #formula #smut

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bueckersstrap · 3 days

Text

ride it, then

cw: strap, smut, i think that’s it ? idk. a/n: first one shot (i think ?) i haven’t written since like 2021 so uhh if it’s bad dw ill get better 😪 not rly proofread dnt kill me .

“please Paige get off your game im begging”, i whine to paige. she groans and rolls her eyes, “bro in a second, give me like- FUCK ICE GO LEFT” she cuts herself off, instead of trying to argue with her i climb back onto the bed, sighing harshly at my girlfriends dismissiveness.

im wearing shorts and a large shirt, one of paiges old hopkins tee shirts. as paige keeps yelling and getting frustrated with ice i decided to start to take of her shorts, underneath lacy white underwear. i slowly spread my legs to start rubbing my folds just to bother her. paige turns around to ask to grab her water but her mouth slowly gapes open, my whimpers inside ask i dip a finger inside myself. she stares watching me in awe.

“see something you like, paigey” i tease

“what the fuck do you think your doing, can’t wait ten minutes?” she spits

i shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows, rolling my eyes to the back of my head and i dip another finger inside myself.

“ice, give me a bit imma hop back on later”

she puts her headset down and shakes her head, “your such a slut, you know that?” she climbs onto the bed, “can’t even wait for me to get off, fuck such a needy whore”

she pats the edge of the bed where she sits, i pull my fingers out of me and crawl over. she holds up her two middle fingers, “suck” i do as im told putting her fingers in my mouth, slightly gagging as she shoves them deeper.

her big hands spreading my legs as she aggressively spits on my cunt, heat spreads throughout my body as she sticks one finger in.

she moves aggressively fast, occasionally flicking my clit just the way i need.

“paige, fuck, im so close im so close im so clo-“

right as i clench around her fingers she pulls out.

”what the fuck?” i ask, my mind still hazy from my attempted-orgasm

“you wanted to act like a slut, your gonna get treated like one.” she gets up off the bed reaching for the shoe box that hold the 8 inch purple dildo.

“on ur stomach, now” she spits

immediately my face is shoved in between our silk pillows as one hand hovers on my lower back while the other holds my hip while she slides the plastic dick in.

im whimpering at the contact after my failed orgasm not short of around 10 minutes ago.

“you like that, baby?” she coos

“yes, yes, oh yes!” i plead, im getting dizzy from how much pleasure im feeling

“you gonna come all over mommy’s cock?”

“please mommy, let me cum!” i cry out, so close to reaching my climax

paige pulls out.

i whine at the loss of contact, my eyes welling with tears at the second denied orgasm. she crawls to the top of the bed, laying down, stroking the plastic cock like it’s an extension of herself.

“you want to cum so bad, ride it, then”

my legs wobbly from the past denied orgasms im unsure if i can last enough to make myself cum.

i climb to paiges waist as her hands attach themselves to my hips. i ease onto the dick, tears streaming down my face as she goes so deep

“oh my god paige, your making me feel so good” her hands guiding my hips slowly as i bring onto her

“good job baby, doing so well”

i shift my weight to my heels, bouncing faster trying to chase my high on my own

“f-fuck paige, i can’t do it, please”

“use your words, ma. what do you want me to do for you?” she looks at me through hooded eyes, propping herself up on her hands

“please paige, fuck me”

she nods and flips us over, she pushes my thighs apart and starts grinding into me, rubbing my clit at a speed that makes me buzz with pleasure

the way she thrusts into me, pushing down on my stomach lightly

i screw my eyes shut, my stomach tensing up feeling the knot tighten

“you gonna cum, come on, let go for me baby”

just with those words alone she thrusts sloppier and harder, hitting my g-spot, it’s almost too much

“fuck pai- ohh, please im gonna come, im coming”

i release onto the plastic dick, she keeps thrusting just to let me ride out my high

after ive cooled down she places sloppy kisses down my body, “ugh, i love you so much baby”

“i love u more, p”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #dom!paige #first post

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souliebird · 2 days

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease.

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye.

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt.

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask?

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you.

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?”

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem.

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate.

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her.

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can.

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS.

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too.

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse.

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes.

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing.

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life.

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room.

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there.

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped.

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply.

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte.

But you don’t.

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid.

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake. The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted. So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers.

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are.

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring.

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?”

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.”

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more.

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.”

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night.

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.”

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips.

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response.

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse.

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning.

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way.

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it.

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it.

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all.

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down.

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you.

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile.

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck.

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you.

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you.

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek.

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can.

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up.

You can’t get to Minnie.

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts.

“DADDY!”

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter.

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

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7ndipity · 3 days

Note

I just had a dream with Namjoon cuddling me and now I'm soft and in need of someone to cuddle with me 🥲

Soooo how do u think each one would cuddle with their S/O? I think Hobi would totally be braiding their SO hair if it's long enough, and maybe Namjoon would be kissing their SO cheeks?? Idk but that's what I've dreamed about and everytime I remember about it it makes me giggle 🥹🥹

How They Cuddle

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: These made me so soft while writing, I need someone to cuddle asap!🥺😊

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: Jin likes when you sit across his lap with your head on his shoulder, so he can wrap his arms around and keep you safe and cozy while you watch tv or smth. Whenever he feels particularly tired or stressed, he likes to lay on your chest or tummy, listening to you talk about whatever until he eventually dozes off. His favorite way to sleep tho is with your head resting on his chest, feeling you slowly relax into him.

Yoongi: I think he likes it when you lean against each other as you sit side by side. It’s not exactly full-on cuddling, but it just feels comforting to him. He’s also a sucker for classic spooning, pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, face tucked against the back of your neck, breathing in scent. Sometimes when he’s in a needy or teasing mood, he’ll just come over and lay on top of you and refuse to move bc “you’re comfy”.

Hobi: Like you said, Hobi tends to let his hands wander, not always in a suggestive way(though that definitely happens sometimes) His braids/plays with your hair, traces patterns and words on your skin, counts your freckles, etc. He basically does all the same things that he loves that you do to him. He doesn’t really have a preferred position, tho he def dies a little whenever he wakes up to you spooning him from behind. It makes him feel so safe and loved.

Namjoon: Joon, I think, is a big fan of back hugs or having you lay on his chest. He likes that he can keep one hand free to hold a book or his phone, while the other is looped around your waist, keeping you close as you’re laying together. Sometimes at night tho, he seeks you out in his sleep, curling into your side with his face buried in your chest in the same way you do to him, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, clinging to you as if his life depends on it.

Jimin: Jimin loves any form of cuddling, but one of his favorite positions is when one of you lays back against the other's chest. He loves wrapping his arms around you and gently rocking you side to side, or how you play with his hands as he talks, how he can hook his legs around your waist to keep you from getting up, even though you told him you had to leave three times already. He also loves when you lay in bed facing each other, legs tangled together as you talk about your day.

Taehyung: Tae adores skinship, so he doesn’t really care what form it comes in. He likes laying on your chest or resting his head in your lap while you play with his hair. His actual favorite tho, is when you lay facing each other, an arm thrown over your waist, legs tangled together as you talk in hushed tones before bed or first thing in the morning, faces close enough that if he wanted to, he could connect your mouths with just a slight tilt of his head.

Jungkook: I think he likes any position that allows him to wrap his arms around you. Sometimes, he comes home and just latches himself to your back, following you around while you do your thing(in the same way that he does with the other members). Whenever you’re sitting together on the couch, he likes to pull you or your legs to rest across his lap, playing with your hands or jewelry as you watch tv. He’s almost always the big spoon, unless he’s feeling particularly needy, and then he likes to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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2hightocare · 1 day

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from the vault pt2 🤍 kuwtb au’

"Haul time!" You squeak as you skip to the living room with the big box that you just got delivered a few minutes ago.

"What did you get, baby?" Your husband cranes his neck backward from the couch to catch you doing a happy dance with the big box covering your face. A small chuckle escapes his lips as he watches you make your way to him.

"Let me help you, that looks heavy as shit. Don't want you having back problems," Jungkook begins to stand up, only to be stopped when you drop the gigantic box in front of him on the carpet with a loud breath. "I got it, I'm independent," you click your tongue, dramatically flipping your ponytail to the side.

"Okay, not too much now," Jungkook shakes his head before reaching for your waist and pulling you on top of him in a swift motion. "Hey! I was going to show you my outfits," you giggle, pushing on his face with your left hand as he tries to pepper kisses on your face.

"You can show me later, but for now just let me love you," he mumbles into your collarbone before situating his head in between your boobs. His teeth graze the top of your tube top before trying to pull it down, making you squirm with a laugh-pushing him off.

"You took a long-ass nap, had me staring at the wall— bored, baby," Jungkook pouts, before cracking into a full-on smile. He runs a hand through his hair before putting it behind his head-his eyes trained on your flushed face while your fingers play with the seam of his T-shirt.

"Could've napped with me," you shrug, your fingertips slowly making their way under his shirt, slowly tracing his v-line.

"Yeah?" He smirks, his dimple popping out.

"Yeah. It was a good nap," you giggle before retrieving your hands from under his shirt and getting off his lap, making your way to the box full of clothes you had ordered online a couple of weeks back.

"Baby!" Jungkook whines as he watches you drop to your knees on the gray carpet in front of the box, ignoring him once again.

"Baby," you mock him; he playfully rolls his eyes at you.

Jungkook throws his head back in defeat before joining you on the floor with a happy sigh.

"Okay, gimme your haul, princess," Jungkook leans back onto the couch as he watches you open the box with your acrylics, like you always did. He takes notice of your mismatched socks, smiling to himself-your ass up in the air, as you look into the box, your light purple gym shorts hugging your curves perfectly.

"I got so many clothes it's actually insane," you say to your husband, who's watching you with hooded eyes.

"You still got space, nah?" Jungkook asks, talking about your walk-in closet, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

"Yup, I still have so much space," you pipe happily, opening the first bag. A small short sundress you forgot you had ordered stares back at you.

"That's cute, baby," Jungkook says, bobbing his head approvingly at the white lace sundress you're holding up.

"Cute, right? Should I model?" You wiggle your eyebrows, folding the dress into you. "Oh, for sure. I'll give ratings like that game we played with Jiho on Roblox," Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to remember the name of the game, snapping his fingers as if that's going to help him remember faster.

"Fashion Square?" He raises an eyebrow, the sly smirk on his face making you giggle at his attempt. "Fashion Famous," you correct him, biting your lip.

"Yeah, that," he smirks, with a final snap of his fingers.

"Can't believe the ugliest ones always win— when they’re not even on theme," Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you burst out laughing.

"Sassy Men Apocalypse got to you, Jeon," you tease, clenching your teeth and making a 'tsk' noise. "You are my biggest hater, I'm afraid," Jungkook shrugs before pulling you into him in a quick motion, catching you off guard.

"Baby, what? I'm literally in the 'I Heart Jeon Jungkook' club! And I have a shirt to prove it," you say, straddling him. The pout on your face makes him want to kiss it off.

You lean forward, dropping your head on his chest, looking up at him while he looks down at you.

He gives your left ass cheek a soft squeeze. "Oh, tell me more about this club. How many members are in it?" He taunts playfully.

"Around twenty," you reply nonchalantly, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He questions, playing with your belly piercing.

"If all my personalities count, then yeah," you shrug.

“Leave some for me, fatty,” the raven-haired boy says, slapping Namjoon’s wrist when he tries to reach for a piece of chocolate cake that’s sitting in the middle of the counter—you just baked it.

Taehyung snickers. “You look like you’ve had enough cake for a year.”

“The fuck? For your information, I’ll let you know that it takes hours in the gym to look as good as I do,” Namjoon retorts, a dramatic roll of his eyes eliciting a laugh from the petite, curly-haired girl beside him— Ari.

“Hours with your head inside a fridge, that’s for sure,” Eunbi pipes in, inserting a bite of cake into her mouth before reaching for the cold glass of milk that your husband just served and taking a sip with a knowing smirk.

“Crazy,” Namjoon points his fork at everyone who just came at him.

Taehyung’s eyes are filled with amusement as he shrugs and lets out a chuckle. “Can’t take constructive criticism,” Jimin joins in, as you try to hide your laugh behind the fork in front of your mouth while your husband leans on you, his chin on your head, hearing everything.

“He’s not fat, guys, he’s just big-boned,” Jungkook inserts himself into the conversation, which has Namjoon’s head snapping to him. “You did not just call me big-boned,” he gasps, as Eunbi and Taehyung burst out laughing, giving each other high fives like they’re six in second grade.

“I’m trying to defend you!” Your husband raises his hands in defense as Lora shakes her head, digging into the cake, ignoring everyone.

“Yeah, but big-boned is crazy!” Joon gapes at Jungkook, who actually seems confused. “Personally, I wouldn’t let that slide,” Eunbi points her fork between Namjoon and Jungkook, trying to instigate.

“Why you out here being messy for?” Lora jokes, nudging the blonde to the side, making her giggle.

“What I actually meant to say is that you’re buff as fuck and they’re obviously jealous of you,” Jungkook explains before turning his attention to your best friend.

“Damn, blondie. Being my biggest opp even after I bought you the stupid ferret you wanted so much for your birthday,” Jungkook points his index finger at Eunbi, who gasps while chocolate cake is shoved into her mouth.

a/n: here’s some more unfinished works that I want to get rid of, so here’s a lil gift🤍

#ask! kuwtb💌#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jjk #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeongguk x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 days

Text

end of beginning

summary: your perfectionist self can't settle and wants to improve your grades. no matter the cost... pairing: johnny x reader genre: smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), dubcon, power play, neck-kissing, biting, spanking, fingering, slight dumbification, size kink (duh), unprotected sex, creampie, forbidden relationship, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart) word count: 1.5k

You have never felt so foolish as you do now, standing outside of your professor’s cabinet, waiting for his office hours to start. This isn’t like you at all. You are usually at the top of each class, amazing students and teachers alike with your well-written assignments and outstanding participation in the discussions. You are usually the one that professors praise.

To say you feel embarrassed would be an understatement. You are not used to this, asking for help, admitting that you are falling behind, that your grades have never been worse. But if you want to graduate successfully, you have to swallow your pride and face the problem head on.

You don’t know what it is about Professor Suh’s lectures but you just can’t seem to focus. You try to take detailed notes as you do in your other classes, but you end up getting so lost in his beautiful voice, staring at his pretty face and thinking about his big hands as they flick through the pages that your notes end up being messy, incoherent and awfully inaccurate.

You have tried different strategies such as asking other students for their notes but nothing seems to work. So, in your desperation, you end up here, waiting for Professor Suh to put you out of your misery. You hope that no one else shows up during office hours ‘cause it would be too mortifying if other students find out and start making fun of you for being so behind on the material.

“Oh, Y/N!” Professor Suh exclaims in surprise as he unlocks the door to his cabinet, letting you in. “How long have you been waiting? Usually no one comes to these office hours so I’m a bit late. You should have emailed me.”

You stand nervously, your fingers digging into the tender skin of your already sweaty palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” you start to explain.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, it’s just unusual. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” he tries to reassure you in his calming voice.

You take off your bag, putting it on the ground and sit in the chair against his. God, you feel so stupid…

“So, what brings you here?” Professor Suh asks.

“You’ve probably noticed but my grades have been plummeting,” you murmur awkwardly.

“Well, if that’s what you call a couple of B’s, then sure, I guess,” he laughs softly.

“You don’t understand…I know other students may be happy with such grades but this is unusual for me.”

Professor Suh looks at you over his glasses in disbelief.

“You do realize that in real life nobody cares about grades, yes?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” you reach to grab your bag but he stops you.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help you.”

You exhale in relief.

“What is troubling you the most? Is it the material?”

“I don’t know…It doesn’t make sense because I love literature, it’s always come easy to me. I just have a hard time focusing during your lectures, for some reason.”

“Must be my fault, then,” Professor Suh smiles knowingly. “My teaching method isn’t engaging enough.”

“N-no, that’s not what I m-meant,” you stammer nervously. “I’m just…easily distracted, I guess.”

“Oh? Are you like that in your other classes, as well?”

“Not really, no,” you admit, feeling even more embarrassed.

“See? Then I guess I need to improve. Find a way to help you focus,” Professor Suh insists.

“Please help me. I really don’t want to fail your class, it’s very important to me.”

“Is it important to you because you care about your grades or because you don’t want to let me down?” Professor Suh asks staring into your eyes.

The question is so direct that it takes you off guard. You want to look away but you are so captivated you don’t dare to blink.

“I…don’t want to disappoint you, Professor Suh,” you confess. “Your lectures are very engaging and I enjoy listening to them.”

“Do you enjoy the content or the sound of my voice?”

“Professor…” you break eye contact and you are far too gone to think clearly. What is this man doing to you?

Suddenly, he stands up in all his glory, walks to your chair and lifts your chin up with his finger.

“Answer the question.”

“What…what was the question again?” you ask dumbly.

He shakes his head in disapproval.

“Just as I feared. Helping you focus would be quite difficult.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’ll try harder.”

“You better.”

Grabbing a book from his desk, he opens it and puts it in front of you.

“Read. Out loud. Don’t stop unless I tell you to, understood?”

You nod eagerly and start reading.

“We like to think of the old-fashioned American classics as children’s books. Just childishness, on our part.”

Professor Suh starts playing with your hair gently, surprising you but you don’t dare to stop and continue reading to the best of your abilities.

“The world fears the new experience more than it fears anything.”

He is kissing your neck, biting even, eliciting soft moans out of you. How is that going to help you focus?! You feel like your brain is no longer working.

“Keep reading,” he reminds you.

“Cutting away the old emotions and consciousness. Don’t ask what is left.”

Professor Suh makes you stand up and then pushes you down abruptly so that your breasts and tummy are lying on the desk and your ass is up in the air.

“And you can please yourself, when you read the Scarlet Letter, whether you accept what that sugary, blue-eyed little darling of a Hawthorne has to say for himself-” you continue to read, voice shaky and lacking any confidence.

He lifts your skirt up, touching you in all the right places in all the wrong ways. You are so terrified of what is happening but you are even more terrified of stopping to read.

Professor Suh spanks your ass harshly the second you pause briefly.

“N-no, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“Read,” he orders you and you have no choice but to obey.

“They didn’t come for freedom. Or if they did, they sadly went back on themselves.”

Professor Suh takes your panties off and slides his fingers inside your pussy easily, as you are embarrassingly wet. He assaults you vigorously, expecting you to keep reading.

“They came largerly to get away. In the long run, away from themselves.”

“You skipped a few sentences.”

Damnit, how did he catch that?

You go back to the parts you missed but your reading continues to be full of mistakes. Eventually, Professor Suh grows tired of that and takes the book away from you.

“I’m not sure this method is helpful,” he sighs and starts unbuckling his belt. “Might have to find another way for you to acquire knowledge.”

“S-sir?” your voice trembles, though you already anticipate what is coming.

“Stuff you full of it,” he explains calmly and enters you from behind.

You want to scream but you are so afraid of someone hearing that you bite your hand.

Professor Suh seems to notice your concerns, moves your hand away and presses his own against your mouth.

“Shhh, it’s okay, angel, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers gently while doing the opposite of what he’s saying.

He is so big that you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. Miraculously, you are still alive.

“You’re not good at focusing in my lectures anyway so I might as well give you something to remember during them,” he laughs. Oh, he’s so mean. You deserve it, though. For being so greedy. Not satisfied with a B. Stupid girl.

He removes his hand from your lips, trusting you not to make any loud noises.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Why ask now? He’s already gone this far…

“N-no, p-please,” you whimper helplessly.

“No as in stop or no as in keep going?”

You genuinely don’t know what the right answer is. If this is a test, then you’re surely failing.

Apparently, Professor Suh does not care what you have to say. Perhaps it’s your fault for being so slow…He keeps fucking you, going deeper inside of you than any man has ever been. Soon enough, he paints your walls white as if he’s an artist and not a literature professor.

You feel so dizzy, so brainless, so silly.

“Are you alive?” he asks, scooping you up into his big arms.

“N-no?” your response comes out with a questioning tone.

“Take all the time you need to recover,” he tells you thoughtfully.

“Can I ask you something, Professor Suh?”

“You should call me Johnny when we’re alone.”

“Oh, um…Johnny, what if someone had walked in?” you ask fearfully.

“Relax, sweetheart, I locked the door,” he laughs gently.

“Ah, that’s good.”

“Anything else you’re worried about?” Johnny plays with your breasts lazily as you sit in his lap.

“Um, yeah…”

“I’ll write you all A’s from now on if that’s what…”

“I don’t care about that anymore,” you confess teary-eyed. “Was this a one time thing for you, Johnny? Will I have to pretend nothing happened during your lectures?”

He caresses your hair just like how he did when this all started. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like the end.

“Oh, baby, this is just the beginning.”

The End

#nct smut #johnny suh smut #johnny x reader #nct #johnny #johnny smut #nct 127 smut #johnny suh x reader #nct johnny smut #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #nct reader smut #writing

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latenightdaydreams · 21 hours

Text

König x Stepmother!Reader Part 2 (fem)

Here is the requested part two!

Read part one here💘

Master List

MDNI🔞

>cw: fem/afab, cheating, argument, p in v, oral

1.3k word count

König has you bent over the kitchen island, one leg up, his cock ramming hard into your tight cunt. Your knuckles turning white from gripping the edges of the counter. You bite your lips trying to muffle your own moans. König grunts with each thrust, his hands grasping your ass, fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you back slightly to match his motion.

You simply came downstairs for a midnight snack, but König heard you walking and followed you down stairs. Seeing the erection in his pajama bottoms, you couldn’t just ignore it. Just like he couldn’t ignore the way your hard nipples poked out of your white, almost see through, top.

“Your ass is so fucking nice,” König groans while he slaps you ass hard. His hand leaves a mark and makes the fat on your ass ripple. He loves the sight.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimper pathetically.

“Say my name, Kleine Blume.”

“König, this is König’s pussy.” You moan out as he begins to pick up his pace making you pant trying to catch your breath.

You can feel droplets of his sweat falling on you and it’s fucking hot. His hand reaches over and grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head so he can see you.

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers before he rolls his eyes back.

His cock is sensitive and your velvety walls hugging him make him want too just cum deep in you now. He pulls out and drops to his knees. He spreads your ass cheeks apart and looks at how his cock has gaped your pussy. He smiles impressed with his own work.

Leaning forward he sticks his fat tongue in your pussy before going down and licking your clit. He buries his face in you, breathing you in and sucking on your clit. One hand on your leg that is bent on the counter to keep it up. His cock leaks precum, balls tightening as he hears your muffled moans.

“Please fuck me, König.” You beg.

“I’ll cum Liebling.” He goes back to burying his face in your pussy. He moves up to your asshole, tight and untouched. He flicks his tongue over it as he grasps your ass cheeks now.

“I don’t care, please just fuck me.”

König can’t deny you so he stands back up and slaps his cock on your ass cheeks, “Turn on your back.”

You turn and lay with your legs open. König grabs your hips and pulls you down towards him. He lines his cock up with your entrance before slowly pushing back in at first. A soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him stretch you out. You’ve become addicted to his cock the last few days. He puts your legs together and hold them with one arm.

“Oh, fuck yes.” You moan as he begins to thrust quickly into you.

His eyes glues to your breasts bouncing with his movement, he reaches out with one hand and squeezes one of your breasts. A low moan escapes his lips. He can’t hold on and longer. He picks up and pace until he finally cums deep inside of your pussy. He closes his eyes and squeezes your breast tightly.

He thrust a few more times before carefully pulling out. He picks his boxers and pajama bottoms back up. He lifts you off the counter and on to the floor. You grab your panties and pajama shorts.

“We should get back to bed…” You say looking up at König with lovey eyes.

He smiles down at you and brushes hair behind your ear. He leans down and kisses your lips; you taste yourself on his lips.

“Yeah, we should. I’ll let you go up first.” König whispers, breaking the kiss.

You turn and walk upstairs. You adjust yourself as you walk, getting to your bedroom door. Opening it up, you see Felix sitting up, stroking his erect cock. You close the door and look shocked. The shock hiding the worry that he heard König fucking you.

“You’re up?” You look at his cock, not nearly as big as König’s.

“I am, I was waiting for you to come back from the bathroom.” Felix pats the bed.

You smile, feeling sort of disgusted, but you walk to the bed. Felix turns on the bedside lamp as you crawl on to the bed.

“Take your clothes off.” He says as he moves to fully pull off his bottoms.

“I haven’t showered today,” you lie trying to get out of this. You just fucked König after all.

“I don’t mind a little stink.” Felix chucked.

You smile awkwardly and begin to take off your shirt followed by your pajama bottoms. You look at Felix’s nude body, covered in white body hair. You lay down and he moves over, latching on to your breast as if he were a starved infant. His hand moving down to your already wet pussy.

“Looks like you’re already ready for me, were you thinking about fucking me?”

“Yes,” you lie again.

“Good girl,” he moves to position himself in between your legs.

You spread your legs open for him and he strokes his cock before slapping it against your pussy, sore from the pounding König gave you. Felix stops and just looks at your pussy. You look up at the ceiling thinking he is about to push himself in, but he doesn’t. Silence.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and look at Felix. His blue eyes, like König’s, are just glued to your pussy still. His erection is slowly going away and his face looks confused.

“Felix?”

He slowly meets your gaze, “What is this?”

He points to your vagina and you just look at him. You doesn’t say anything. You don’t even know what to say if you did. You’ve been caught. Your heart sinks into your stomach as you feel a hot wave of anxiety flush over your body.

“What is what?” You swallow hard.

“Cum. You have cum in your vagina.” His eyes finally meet yours as you sit up and close your legs. “ARE YOU FUCKING MY SON?!” Felix explodes in a furry, his voice booming through the house.

A yell that triggers König, who is currently sitting in his room. He quickly stands and makes his way towards your bedroom to make sure you’re okay.

“Du bist eine Hure!” Felix shouts at you.

He gets off the bed and pulls his bottoms back on. Before you can move the door opens and König is standing there, shirtless, with a pissed off look on his face.

“Watch how you talk to her.” König’s voice deep and demanding.

Felix quickly turned to König. A look of disgust and rage on his face, a look König has been used to seeing since he was a young child. Except now he towers over his dad and doesn’t fear him.

“You’ve been fucking my wife?!” Felix shouts, his voice a mix of rage and heart break.

“Yes, since the first night I got here.” König snaps back.

Felix turns to look at you with his jaw dropped. He turns back to König and looks as if he wanted to kill him, but knew he couldn’t do anything but stand there. König feels no remorse for what has happened. You’re his now.

“You- you’re just like your mother, fucking useless and pathetic!” Felix barks in anger. “I never even wanted you.”

König doesn’t react, just looking down at his dad. He turns his gaze to you, naked on the bed. He walks past Felix and to you, he puts his hand out.

“Come with me.” König speaks in a soft calm tone.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Felix snaps, frozen in place knowing his son could end him.

You look past König at Felix, then back to König. His blue eyes soft and he nods his head.

“It’s okay. I can take care of you.” König reassures you. With him you aren’t losing anything. He can buy you everything you’re leaving behind. He could love you better than Felix. He already fucks you better.

“Y/n, don’t.” Felix realizes you’re truly about to leave him.

You gently place your hand in König’s big hand. A small smile spreads across his lips.

Tags: @nachofriess, @mariapallett

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #konig smut #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader smut #könig x reader smut #könig x you #könig x y/n

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worldofkuro · 1 day

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile IV

<- Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Some angst with a little but of fluff. There is the mention of death but nothing really bad yet. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it might be the last where the reader and Alastor are children. Next chapter, they might be around 16 or 17. Maybe I'll just drop some bonus scenarios when they are kids but we will see. Enjoy my deers!

You woke up with a tired yawn. You sat up, looking around. It wasn’t your bedroom… oh yes! You had a sleepover and it seemed like you fell asleep in Alastor’s bed. You hoped Marie wouldn’t be too angry, you did say you would go to her bed once you finished playing with her son. You looked next to you but Alastor’s spot was empty, there was only your plushie. You took him in your arms and smiled.

“ Did you sleep well ?” you stroke its fur before kissing the top of its head. You looked around and your eyes fell on Alastor’s microphone… You looked toward the closed door and then jumped off the bed, grabbing the microphone and holding it to your plushie’s mouth. You changed your voice a bit and spoke.

“ I have never slept better !” you nodded before giggling. You squeaked as you heard the door open to reveal Alastor who was staring at you with a teasing smile. You blushed and hid the microphone behind your back. He shook his head, still smiling and walked toward you before taking the microphone from your hand, his face close to yours.

“ I knew you would play with it.” you blinked at him, looking at his bed hair and couldn’t help but smile. He looked cute like this ! “ Eamon told me you were using the microphone.” You tilted your head.

“ Who ?”

“ Our deer. He needs a name, don’t you think?” he stroked your plushie’s head while mumbling “ even if he looks more like a fawn than a deer…”

“ He is a deer ! I’m sure you never saw one !” you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest. You quite liked the name, you were wondering if it had a meaning whatsoever…

“ Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.” he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. He looked perplexed as you took a step back.

“ You killed a deer ?”

“ No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.”

“ But… Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?” you asked, confused. Your father also liked to hunt with other adults but he always said that it was a man’s pleasure! Why would Alastor’s father take him with him? Wasn’t Alastor a little too young ? You watched as Alastor smiled at you, teasingly.

“ It’s not for little girls, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t bear it.” He teased you.

“ Hey! I saw things too, I’m not a little girl!”

“ Like what? What did you see?” he asked you with an intense glint in his eyes. You huffed and lifted your face to his, staring him in the eyes. You looked around, as if someone could hear you then you went whispering in his ears, and you were kind of happy to see him eagerly tilting his head toward you.

“ My father tried to eat my mother one day.”

…

“ What ?!” he shouted as he stared at you with a big confused smile. You grinned as you nodded, proud of yourself to have made Alastor react so strongly. “ Why ? How ? What?” you laughed as he seemed so lost.

“ We will talk about it… In our next broadcast ! Stay tuned Alastor~ ” you kissed both his cheeks, more of habitude than anything, it was your way of saying hello now. You took as step back as he tried to grab your arm, it seemed like he didn’t want to wait. You laughed as you ran and jumped on his bed, as he tried to catch you. Unfortunately for him, you were faster and you managed to ran out of his bedroom, running into the kitchen where Marie was waiting for you with breakfast.

“ Good Morning mes chéries, I hope Alastor’s bed was comfortable?” she kissed you on both cheeks with a big grin before laying a plate of pancake in front of you. You nodded as you held your plushie on your knees. “ I guess, this is Eamon, right?” she asked.

“ Yes, Alastor named him.”

“ Did he now? This name means, if I remember correctly, “ Wealthy protector.” “ she smiled genuinely at you. Your eyes widened as you stared at Eamon with a big smile. Did it mean that Alastor saw your plushie as a real protector now? You giggled as you began to eat what Marie prepared for you. Alastor came down five minutes after, washed up. He sat next to you and you put Eamon on his knees, you will not tell him that you now knew the meaning of the name, maybe another time.

“ Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !” you smiled excitedly. Never once did Marie or Alastor come to your parent’s house. Strangely, Alastor furrowed his eyebrows as he smiled who seemed torn.

“ I… I don’t like leaving my mother alone at home.”

“ But we will choose a day where your father is home!” you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. “ Please Alastor… I really want you to come.” you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. “ You don’t want to..?”

He jerked his head toward you with a twitching smile, staring at you. He seemed so torn at your idea. Did he really not want to come to your place?

“ Don’t look so down dear, we will find a date for you to have a sleepover with Alastor at your place” she held her finger in front of Alastor as he opened his mouth “ and you know what, I’ll do a sleepover with your mother too ! Isn’t it a great idea?” she said with glee. You nodded eagerly and looked at Alastor who seemed less tense, you could even say he looked relaxed. Maybe he was a mommy boy and couldn’t leave his mother for more than a day?

You finished eating and went to the bathroom to wash yourself up. Once you were dressed up you went into Alastor’s bedroom who was already preparing your broadcast of the day. Your smile widens as you see Eamon sitting on a chair next to the microphone. You sat down and let Alastor begin the show.

“ Welcome New Orleans to a new broadcast! We have a new guest here, Eamon our fawn–”

“ Our deer!”

“--who will keep us company for today’s broadcast. Now, today our singer will tell us about how her father tried to eat her mother. What is this story about my dear?” he held the microphone to you and whispered into it.

“ It was during Christmas, I was getting ready to go to bed but I was really thirsty so I decided to go in the kitchen but I saw my daddy.. He had his head in my mother’s neck, her head was tilted back and… He bit her!” Alastor gasped as you continued your story “ I ran back in my bedroom and the next day, my mother had a scarf around her neck even though we were inside the house!”

“ Now that’s a story to tell ! What do you think of it, Eamon?” he held the microphone to the plushie, both of you stayed silent for five seconds looking at the deer. “ Yes, me too, I have no words!” He said as you laughed at his jokes. You really loved hanging out with Alastor.

After hours of broadcasting, it was finally time to go home. You ran to your mother’s hug as she scrunched down to lift you up in the air. You laughed as you hugged her, you did miss her even if you did have a great time with Alastor.

“ Do you have everything sweetie? Where is Mister Deer?” she asked, looking around. Deep inside, you wished that you could take it back home, but Aalstor needed more than you. You were sure of it.

“ Mister Deer is now Eamon and he is staying with Alastor !” you claimed proudly. She tilted her head but didn’t ask any more questions. She kissed Marie goodbye as you hugged Alastor and you felt a pure sense of happiness as you felt him return your embrace. “ See you next weekend, Alastor! And Eamon, take care of him okay?” you whispered to Alastor’s ears “ and please… Take care of our Eamon, okay?” you waited for Alastor nod then smile” I’ll see you both soon, bye bye !” you waved them goodbye before leaving the house, almost tripping on Husker’ which made Alastor laugh.

You couldn’t wait for next week.

~~~

You couldn't wait anymore !

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Alastor ! You were making a scene in front of your mother as she told you that this weekend once again, you couldn’t go to Alastor’s house. You were crying, you have been such a good girl, each refusal you just accepted that you couldn’t go there but each week it was getting harder and harder. You stomped your foot on the floor even harder, not even hearing your mother who was trying to calm you down. Your father shouted your name, making you gasp as you lift your head toward him. You weren’t used to him raising his voice to you like this. He kneeled down in front of you, wiping your tears, sighing.

“ Sweetheart, I know you are sad because you haven’t seen Alastor for almost a month. But… I saw his father and he told me they had a bad hunting session and Alastor was injured. You understand that he needs to rest, right?”

Alastor…was hurt? You blinked the tears in your eyes, staring at your father. It couldn’t be. You look at the floor as you felt and anger you haven’t ever felt. It was Alastor’s father’s fault. Why did he bring Alastor hunting in the first place? And what if Alastor was dea–

You fell on the floor, your mother hugging you against her chest. You couldn’t think, there was a big buzzing in your head, just like a radio static sound. Was Alastor really so badly hurt that he needed a whole month to recover ? You lifted your head toward your mother, pleading with your eyes. You needed to see him. You would make him smile, laugh, you would do anything for him to forget his pain. Your mother stared at you for a moment then sighed.

“ I’ll take you to him, I’m worried too. But hush, not a word to your father alright? We’ll go tomorrow.”

That night, when you went to bed, you prayed that Eamon would keep Alastor safe in his room.

~~~

You gripped the plate in your hands. You tried to make Jambalaya with your mother, it was Alastor’s favorite dish so maybe it would make him happy. You watched as your mother knocked on the door. Long seconds after, the door opened to reveal a tired Marie. She kissed you as usual with a, what seemed, a sad smile. You didn’t even wait as your mother hugged her precious friend, you ran up the stairs, holding the plate against you.

You were going to see him, he was going to be okay, he was going to be alive, he was going to be in his room, you’ll play as usual, you’ll do your broadcast , he was going to make fun of you for being worried, he’ll tease you for crying, he’ll–

You opened the door which slammed against the wall. You were breathing hard as you looked inside the room. Where was he–

“ So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”

You turned your head toward his bed, the voice coming from under the cover. You walked toward him, your frame trembling.

“ I.. I made your favorite dish..” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud. His voice sounded weaker than usual. “ Can… Can I see you?”

“ No.”

“ Please…” you begged as tears began to form in your eyes. Why was he hiding from you? “ I was so worried… My father told me what happened–” You saw the cover flinched.

“ What did he tell you?”

“ That… That you went hunting with your dad and–” you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. You stood still, his hand was warm. He was here.. You felt tears streamed down your face. “ Because of your father you- you have been hurt.” you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands, the other still holding his plate. “ Alastor, I was so scared..!”

“ Keep your eyes closed.”

You heard the cover falling on the floor as you felt him hugging you against his body. You kept your eyes closed as you finally relaxed. He was okay. He was alive. You furrowed your eyebrows as your felt something soft between you both–

“ It’s Eamon. He stayed with me.” he said as he hugged you tighter. “ I… I wanted to see you, you know. It’s not something I’m used to but… Yes, I wanted to see you.”

“ Are you hurting?”

“ No. Remember rules number two: I’m the strongest here.”

You laughed as you sniffed. You tilted your head down and opened your eyes. Alastor didn’t want you to look at him but you could look at your deer. You gasped as you saw it. Your white plushie looked reddish? Some parts of its fur were pinkish, reddish? You sniffed once more, it smells metallic? What happened to him? You opened your mouth to ask Alastor but he did ask you to keep your eyes closed…

“ I want to see your face.”

You felt his body tensed but he didn’t say no. He took a step back but you kept your head down, waiting for his answer.

“ Be my guest.”

You’ve never lifted your head so quickly, you might have heard a crack. You stare at Alastor’s face. He was.. He was…

Completely normal.

“ But… but..”

“ You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.” he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest.

“ Why do our deer have pink…red spots on him?” you tilted your head, stroking its fur.

“ I’m sorry. I bled on him.”

You looked up at him, he looked ashamed of himself. You stared at him… Did he keep Eamon against him while he was injured? You sat on the bed, next to him and kissed his cheek with the most care you could conjure. You felt him flinching but he didn’t move away. You kept your lips on his cheeks, you hand against his.

“ I missed you.” you both said at the same time.

You both stayed together on the bed as you told him what happened in your life, even how you cried because you couldn’t see him. He smiled at you and teased you a little but squeezed your hand tighter. You ate the jambalaya you made, of course it wasn’t as good as Marie’s but Alastor didn’t say anything bad.

Before you knew it, it was time to go. Your mother was calling you from downstairs. You squeezed Alastor’s hand, ready to let go but to your surprise he stood up and went downstairs with you. Your mother smiled at him, saying she was happy to see him well. He nodded with his usual smile and then looked at you as both your mothers kept talking with each other.

“ I promise, I’ll see you soon.”

“ You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?”

He stared at you before smiling sweetly.

“ Let’s make a deal.”

He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed as your mothers were hiding their smiles behind their hands.

“ You always kiss me good morning, so now, I’ll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.” he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. “ Do we have a deal?”

You blushed but your smile was ten times bigger than usual. You squeezed his hand, never letting it go since you went downstairs.

“ Deal.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

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cixrosie · 1 day

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Dream Boy

Summary : In which the sweet dream boy you saw freshman year turns into Your dream boy sophomore year

You and Gavin first met a Umich your Freshman year in the first week in one of your many classes you had together . But you first saw Gavin at freshman orientation and immediately had a crush on him . You and Gavin basically had almost every class together . You can't lie he was hot and sweet but you didn't want to get in a relationship as this was your start to college and you knew most college guys that were freshman were just looking to hookup .

Over the first couple months after meeting Gavin you had gotten close, you guys had had study dates even though both of your friends you brought along to make it less date like told you they were just third wheeling and it was indeed a study date . You brought one of your friends from your theater class and Gavin brought one of his teammates from the hockey team .

After that you and Gavin got even closer now from the study dates you were now going to each others events you invited Gavin to your showcases and he invited you to his hockey games and sat with the other girlfriends . This went on for the rest of the year .

Then the day you had been dreading since you met Gavin had come the last day of classes , which meant not seeing Gavin as often due to summer break and you hated that .

At least for now you didn't have to think about that because there was one big event left : The Umich Hockey End of Year Party which the hockey team . Gavin had invited you saying that is was one last big hangout with all the guys and your friends to hand out before you left as his friends and your friends had kind of meshed into one big group. So as your leaving your last class you are texting Gavin and he let you know the dress code is just umich colors .

Later that night about an hour after the party started you are almost done getting ready. You decided to wear a dark maize tube top and blue shorts with a university of Michigan jacket but left it unbuttoned in the front . Just as you were putting on your shoes you got a text from Gavin :

Gav 🥰 : where are you I don't see you ? 😢

You : im done getting ready im heading over now lol

Gav : ok see you , when you get here park next to my car

About 10 minutes later you arrive to the frat house and park nexts to Gavins car . The house pretty crowded but thats to be expected with an end of year party . You enter the house and the sound of music and laughter fills your ears . You look towards the kitchen and see Gavin and his hockey teammates and some of the girlfriends laughing and drinking so you head over.

" hey Y/N's here " Ethan yells drunkenly , that makes Gavin turn towards you at the speed of light . You both make eye contact and it holds and you can feel the shift in your relationship. You had started to notice it about a week ago the subtle touches around your waist , the excuses made just so he can hold your hand and now this something is shifting and you aren't complaining

After coming back to reality and hear Ethan still screaming about the house reaching capacity but I couldn't really make it out since he 1. was drunk off his ass and 2. You couldn't stop staring at your boy . You can't believe your referencing him as your boy but you are and you love it

You and Gavin are still making eye contact but you are saying so many words his eyes are saying " come here " your eyes are saying " come get me " but both are saying " you feel it too" at this point Gavin has had enough and as you continue staring at his eyes as your standing against the counter he comes over to you trapping you in between his arms , " come to my room with me yeah" he asks . You nod your head as you look up at him.

He grabs your hand as he leads you up the stairs and his teammates see and they start whooping and whistling and you definitely hear Luca yell " Finally " you laugh as Gavin continues to lead you up the stairs to his room. You finally get to Gavins room and he ushers you in with his hand dangerously close to your ass which makes you smile and make your heart flutter a she closes his door .

Gavin walks to his bed as he takes off his shoes and sit on the edge . You stay back towards his door and lean on it as you both make eye contact . " c'mere pretty girl" he says. You walk over and you see him spread his legs open to accommodate your body , as you fit perfectly between his legs he holds the back of your thighs and pulls you as close as possible , he pulls you with so much strength you have to hold onto his shoulders , after you catch your balance you wrap your arms around his neck and stare into his eyes.

He inches his lips closer and closer as you say "Gav" in a breathy tone " I know baby I feel it to" " what are we now" you question " You're mine and I'm yours if you'll have me " he says. Thats all it takes for the damn to break and for you to crash your lips onto his , he groans as you quite literally take his breath away . He moves his hand from the back of your thighs to you waist as he pulls you so you're now straddling him and from there his hands move to your ass pinching and pulling which you take as a sign he's enjoying himself among other things .

After a while you pull away to catch your breath. "wow' you both say at the same time you laugh and blush as you hide your face in his neck. He then lays flat on his back as he takes you down with him so you're now laying on his chest . He laughs as you still blush with your face in his neck. " don't blush now baby you literally shoved your tongue down my throat a couple minutes ago" this makes you groan as he laughs even harder , that beautiful laugh you love so much .

After you both settle down and change out of the party clothes and into pajamas and for you thats just Gavins clothes you both cuddle up on his bed as he choses some random show to watch. The room fills with silence until Gavin says " its always been you since the day we met our first week of class " You look at him from his chest and smile as you say " its always been you too Gav ever since I saw you in freshman orientation " " But we didn't even meet yet we met a week later during the first week " he cocks his eyebrow " exactly my dream boy ive had a crush on you since I saw you during freshman orientation " . Gavin smiles as he leans down to connect your lips for the sweetest kiss you've ever had .

Note: HIIII I haven't written anything in a while but im back with this sweet piece for Gavin . As always requests are open send them my way if you have them

Im tagging my favorite people on this app who ive read phenomenal fics and AUs from and are overall great people and my mutuals . feedback's appreciated but done feel like you have to ok bye <3

@sc0tters @lennysfridge @yankstrash @heavenlyhischier @sweetestdesire @thatintrovertedwriter @starry-hughes @drewsbuzzcut @bedsyandco @slafkovskys @theywantedplayer @bitchinbarzal @babydollmarauders @nicohischierz @nicohersheys @sunkissed-zegras @uluvjay @letsgetrowdy43 @mirrorballmcgroarty @ilyasorokinn @hischierdevils @jackhues @swissboyhisch @perfectlysaltycat32

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 2 days

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

TW: NSFW, bondage, uncomfy situations

The next time you see Dr. Julian, (which isn’t at the jail, because you fucking tried to go bail him out and they just looked at you like you were crazy when you kept insisting Dr. Julian Mercer had to be in there) he has a red mark around his neck, a black eye, and a bump on his temple that’s almost the size of a chicken egg.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hiss, rushing over to him. He takes your elbow and ducks the two of you into a supply closet. You think he just wants to have a private conversation, until he backs you into the shelves with a tonsil-inspecting, toe-curling kiss, his big hands digging into your waist. You grab fistfuls of his lab coat, you are so surprised it doesn’t even occur to you to fight him. When he finally pulls back you are breathless—and in shock.

He seems to find this adorable, reaching up to caress your face. “Now all that was worth it,” he says cheekily.

You blink up at him, stupid as a lamb. “Did he hurt you?” you demand, trying to inspect the mark around his neck.

“We reached an understanding,” Julian assures you with a dark look, taking your hands in his own.

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. Really.” It comes out like an order, and you don’t really like it when he talks to you that way, but you guess you understand that he doesn’t want to talk about Ludlow anymore.

“Ok.”

You are so going to worry about it. You also know there’s no way in hell that he’s going to want to see you anymore.

He looks down at you with that soft expression that warms your insides. “When’s your next day off?”

You blink again. “Friday?”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You want…to cook for me?”

“At my place. Around seven. I’ll text you the address.”

You’re still not sure if that was a request or an order, but you’re so dumbfounded that it doesn’t even occur to you to offer an opinion.

“But what about…?”

“I’m not scared of him, y/n.” The marks on his face indicate that maybe he should be, but the set of this man’s jaw indicates that maybe Ludlow has met his match.

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

“I already told you, it’s not your fault.” There’s a flinty note in his voice, and you can tell he just wants you to drop it. Inwardly you flinch a little, but you nod.

***

You suppose because he’s banned from being treated by you at the hospital, pulling you over in the dead of night after your shift becomes his go-to game. Maybe you should have started taking a different route home, but the highway was the fastest (and usually safest) way to go, and the thought of changing your personal day-to-day just for this asshole makes you see red. You refuse, and so you keep getting pulled over, four more times for weaker and weaker excuses. Not signaling when changing lanes. Using your phone (you weren’t). An obstruction to vision hanging from your rearview. And the cherry on top—too dim fucking blinkers?

He even has the gall to check up on you, going so far as to inspect your wrists one evening, and turning your head from side to side with an authoritative finger hooked under your chin. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demand.

“Just making sure Dr. Bitch is behaving himself.”

“That is none of your business.”

“If he hurts you I’ll make it my business.” He just says it so casually. Water is wet, the sun is hot, and Tom Ludlow will fuck up Dr. Mercer’s day if he hurts you, even with consensual rough play. No one has ever stuck their neck out for you like that, and it is not helpful, what this misplaced concern does to your insides. This guy is 300% Pure Asshole. You should not be warming to him.

Truth be told, you are nervous about your date with Julian tomorrow night. Maybe he’s being sweet and cooking for you—but it will also be on his home turf, like meeting a wolf in his den. You don’t really think Julian would hurt you. In fact, the thought seems absurd. But then again…people never cease to surprise you. You see the result of mankind’s insatiable bloodthirst every day at work.

Despite your completely misplaced feelings for Officer Tom Ludlow, the fact stands that he is absolutely harassing you, and what he did to Julian outside the coffee shop was totally unacceptable. Maybe you don’t have any money to sue the LAPD like Julian does, but you’re not totally without a voice. The next morning you find yourself going downtown to the Police Headquarters to file a complaint.

The place is bustling, filled with uniforms and plainclothes and people from every walk of life. It reminds you of the hospital in a way, and a wisp of a thought occurs to you that it’s interesting that you and Officer Ludlow engage in the two professions that truly hold together the fabric of society. Politicians like to think what they do is important, but the two of you do the real dirty work to help people survive through their day to day. There could have been something to that between you—if he wasn’t such a fucking creeper in his off hours.

You follow the signs and the directions from various people behind desks to the Complaints Department. It’s a cordoned off area enclosed by glass. With your hand on the door handle you see who is sitting there behind a cheap mdf wood desk, looking unfairly handsome in his black beat uniform.

You freeze.

How the fuck is he everywhere at once? It dawns on you that if he’s working his shift here during the day—he’s fucking with you on his own time at night. It simultaneously creeps you out and thrills you to your toes, and you know you are one sick puppy.

You know you don’t have the guts to march in there and face him, so you decide to bounce. Of course, not before he turns his head at just the right moment. It’s like this man has a radar for your very presence, and your eyes meet through the glass.

He knows exactly why you’re here, of course, and he smirks at you as though to say, ‘Tell me all about it.’

Bastard.

You turn on your heel, and pray he doesn’t follow you.

***

Later that night, you find yourself seated at the island with a glass of white wine in Dr. Mercer’s Spanish Revival style home in Santa Monica, watching him cook for you. He’s utterly edible, in a pressed light blue button down and khakis that should look dorky but somehow he just makes them look GQ worthy. He’s even worn a tie for you. He’s also wearing an apron, and it’s not so corny as to say Kiss The Cook but you did anyway first thing upon walking through the door. You’d asked if you could help with the meal, and he’d declined with a gracious smile.

Now, you’re pretty sure he parked you here so you could get a view of his tight little rear end as he works at the stove.

You take another big sip of wine. It’s really not fair in the least.

He serves up chicken piccata with fresh vegetables out on the patio, complete with candlelight. The warm night breeze is like the breath of angels, and it’s possibly the most romantic dinner anyone has ever treated you to, and it makes you almost uncomfortable inside, how nice all this is. You know he’d said that he liked you, and he didn’t want a perfect girlfriend…but you can’t help but feel like an imposter here.

There were no candlelit dinners with homemade Italian food and fine wine back in Kansas. There were bonfires in someone’s daddy’s back farm field, copious amounts of beer, and you were lucky if you didn’t get knocked up on the bench seat of someone’s rusty old pickup truck before the night was out. Yee fuckin’ haw.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand.

You realize that you have zoned out, while he was talking, again.

“Fine,” you answer quickly, bolstering yourself with another sip of wine. You’re on your second glass now—you should probably slow down, but it’s so good. “I was just thinking…about how nice, all this is. Thank you, Julian. You’re so sweet.”

He smiles at you from across the table, a winsome and heart-squeezing curl of lips, and he’s so handsome even with the now healing black eye.

“I’m maybe sensing some anxiety stemming from Imposter Syndrome,” he says gently.

“Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor?”

You can tell he likes it when you talk this way to him, even outside of the hospital. You can see it in the sparkle of his lovely mocha-brown eyes. “Something like that.” He leans in towards you, his elbows on the little bistro-style table, pinning you with that acute stare. “I don’t know what happened to you, where you came from, y/n. Maybe you’ll trust me enough to tell me later. But I do know that it’s in the past, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something nice for yourself now. Does that make sense?”

It hits way too close to home, and with a sigh you lean back in your chair, unable to meet his eyes again.

“It sounds so easy, when you put it that way.”

He tilts his head as he examines you, and you’re afraid that attentive stare misses nothing. “I could make it easy, for you,” he offers quietly. Something about that soft but oh-so-sure tone lifts every little fine hair on your body, a wave of gooseflesh erupting across your skin. You feel like a rabbit flicking its ears at the sound of danger, not quite sure which direction it’s coming from.

“What do you mean?” you dare ask.

“It’s part of the appeal of submission for some people, to hand over complete control to someone you trust, to let them make you feel good. It can be an almost…therapeutic release. I think I could do that for you.”

Your heart chooses that moment to lodge itself in your throat, and it takes an embarrassingly long few seconds for you to find your voice again. As usual when you feel wildly uncomfortable, you opt for humor. “Wow, do you subscribe this to your patients often?”

He chuckles, and it is dark and rich as bitter chocolate. “No, though maybe I should.”

You can’t help but notice you haven’t even made it through the main course, before he is bringing this up again. It must be something he really wants from you—and a part of you still finds that so hard to believe. He’d said your defiance on that patient’s discharge triggered this need in him. You wonder if there are other things about you, that has made him zero you out. It’s happened to you before. Narcissists just seem to sniff you out like they’re fucking bloodhounds.

Is Julian like that, underneath all the good looks, the pleasantness, the charm?

Does he think you’d be easy to control? Or does he want a challenge because your dumb ass is stubborn as a mule?

Does he know that if things go badly, you have no one here to offer recourse?

Unless, of course, you count Officer Tom Ludlow, but dear lord that is not the backup plan you want to rely on.

“Well…I’m still thinking about all that,” you deflect, throwing your attention into coiling pasta around your fork, trying not to appear like a complete philistine.

He has the grace not to appear disappointed, though there is a certain sharpness in his look now, and you have a feeling Dr. Mercer is not used to not getting his way, eventually.

***

Julian does let you help with the dishes, and pours you yet another glass of wine. “Digestivo,” he says with a perfect accent and a little smile to himself. He explains it’s the word for the “after dinner drink” in Italy. Apparently it’s usually a liquor, but it seems he doesn’t want you that drunk.

At least, not yet.

He asks if you want to watch a movie or listen to some music? You agree, ask him to pick something out, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. When you return he is stretched out on the couch, looking utterly handsome, and you find yourself just staring while his head is turned towards the massive TV.

“I know you’re there,” he finally says with a little smile, turning to look at you knowingly. Cautiously you approach, glad for some reason that the tall back of the leather couch is between you. Perhaps the soft little woodland creature that will forever live inside you senses the wolf nearby, even if it’s wearing Brooks Brothers.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, soft-pawing further into the room. You dare to lean on the back of the couch to look down at him, not quite ready to join him on his level. He seems to understand all too well, and is completely amused by it.

“That’s ok. I can’t keep my eyes off you either. You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a long breath through your nose, never comfortable with what to say to it. You’d been assured by so many people in your early life, that you were in fact an ugly little toad worth less than nothing. Later, those that told you that you were pretty, hurt you in different ways. You wish you could just…take it at face value, and say thanks, without overanalyzing it six hundred ways from Sunday.

“You don’t think so?” He asks, looking up at you with curious eyes. Since you walked through his door tonight, you’ve felt like he’s been studying you, and you sincerely hope it’s not to find your weaknesses and exploit them but rather understand them.

It would be so nice to be understood by a man like Julian, even if he is chaining you to a wall and whipping you while doing it. The thought makes you giggle, and this seems to perplex and amuse him.

“Well?” He asks, reaching up to boldly smooth your cheekbone. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

You try to blame your honesty on the wine when you answer truthfully: “not really.”

Most men don’t want to hear about insecurities and flaws; they want self actualized, confident women who carry themselves in a way you’ll never be able to. It's hard to have self esteem, especially when you’ve spent the majority of your life getting told you shouldn’t have any.

“Hmm.” His thumb rests lightly on your chin, and he parts your mouth a little like he means to kiss you, although he makes no actual move to do so. “That’s another thing I could help you with.”

You're a little lost in the white capped crash of your thoughts, of the pleasant heat in his long, skilled fingers, of the endless dark in his blown black eyes. It takes you a full thirty seconds to think about the conversation, and even then you have to stupidly ask: “what?”

“Feeling beautiful, because you are.” Maybe you don’t mind the bossy, matter of fact tone as much when it’s demanding that you’re worthy and pretty.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You ask, because you can’t stop thinking about how good his mouth feels on your face.

“Ask me nicely.” That big thumb runs a torturous line over your parted bottom lip.

“You ask me,” you challenge, giggling at your own insolence.

Oh, he loves that, when you push back. The wicked, lazy grin says it all. “How about I make you?”

You press your tummy against the soft, worn leather of his couch to lift yourself up and over, cupping his cheeks and pecking a little kiss to his silky lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

Apparently this is the absolute wrong thing—or absolute right thing—to say to this man, to make him spring up and over the couch, lithe as a panther in his pursuit of you, a feral grin in place. You are not proud, but your first instinct is to bolt, a little scream escaping your lips.

Which is stupid, of course, because he has the body of a runner and legs that are a mile long. You have no idea where you are going, down a convenient hallway. You make it three steps before this man has you grabbed up in his long arms, and he is kissing you as though he means to inhale you. He presses you into the wall, his solid weight so delicious against you, and you know there is no escape unless he decides to let you go.

Somehow, you don’t forsee that happening any time soon.

You surge up on tiptoe to meet him with a moan, your hands sliding over the trim muscles of his chest. He easily grasps both your wrists in his one, obscenely big paw, pinning them above your head.

He pulls back to assess what you think about this, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. You can barely breathe past your heart thundering in your chest, your thighs pressed tightly in a sad attempt to relieve some of the ache between them. You lips are kiss-swollen and moist with his saliva, and you lick them, tasting him. His gaze fixes on your mouth hungrily, before lifting to your eyes again.

When you give the barest nod, he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, but no less claiming. His lips are soft, and clever, and wreak havoc with your ability to think coherently. And when he slips his lean thigh between your legs so that you might get some relief, you think you might just expire from the pent up desire threatening to burst you at your seams.

It’s not good, you know, when you can’t help but think about Detective Tom Ludlow, and how part of this aching madness in your loins is built up from his brash brand of torture, and you can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel his rough hands pinning you to the wall like a butterfly. Maybe it’s just the wine, but these distracted thoughts are not good at all.

Julian half carries you, half guides you in a halting walk further down the hallway, opening a door and ushering you inside. It’s a bedroom, though if its his room, you can’t really tell at a glance. It’s nicely decorated, fairly normal, no chains hanging from the ceilings or racks on the walls, and the bed is soft as he presses you back into it with another bone-melting kiss.

He props himself on his elbows so he can look down at you with a mischievous warm smile that lights up your insides. “You really are beautiful,” he tells you gently, tracing your hairline at your temple.

God. If he keeps telling you like this, maybe you will start believing him.

You tug on his tie to bring him back to you, craving another of his sweet kisses. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, and you watch with fascination as he reaches up to loosen the silk noose around his neck.

“Wait.” You halt him, hand on his chest, and he stops the little show.

“What? You okay?” It doesn’t occur to you that this man is just as needy as you are until you hear the heavy pant in his voice, the gravelly scratch of desire polluting his usual smooth pitch that reminds you way too much of someone else that you’re trying not to think about—and failing miserably at.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that,” you say honestly, opening up raw in exchange for the concern on his pretty, angled face.

“Being tied up?” He asks, smoothing your hair off your temple.

“No, I’ve been tied up before.” Although that’s a story for a different day, it’s not like you’re the Virgin Mary, and you don’t want to be—you don’t want him to think that you are—a prude.

“Was it…a bad experience for you?” As he asks this he strokes your hair, petting you like soothing an animal with his light touch.

You hate to say, it’s working.

“Kind of.”

“Maybe…they didn’t stop something you didn’t like when you asked them to?”

That was the understatement of the century.

You close your eyes against the sinking feeling that overcomes you, when you even slightly crack the lockbox that is your stockpile of unpleasant memories from your youth.

“No,” you answer simply, but you know he can hear it all in the roughness of your voice in that one small word.

“What if we have a safeword? If I do anything you don’t like, you say the word, and I promise you I will stop.”

You freeze like a rabbit that's been spotted by a predator, as you mull this over. You know that’s how these things are supposed to go. But once a man has you tied up and at his mercy…he can do anything he wants with you. And men can be so awful, when they feel like they have all the power in their hands.

Is this man awful? It certainly doesn’t seem so. But dear god, you have been so wrong before.

“Maybe….” You roll your eyes up to the ceiling, searching for the right words, determined, for once, not to hide your own needs in favor of someone else’s. “Maybe if you help me understand why this is something you need so much?”

You know it’s possible you’re killing the vibe with such a demand—but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to slow down and talk.

He blinks down at you, undoubtedly not used to being inquisitioned like this by anyone. “That’s…a big question.”

A surge of annoyance rises in you—as if dating isn’t dangerous enough for women as it is—he’s literally asking you to trust him with your life.

“Oh my god. Ok, get off.” You start to squirm beneath him, pushing at his chest. For a moment you panic, because he is big, and you know he’s not going anywhere, unless he wants to.

To his credit, and your great surpriseâ€“he actually does. He seems disappointed, and his breathing is heavy, his beautiful hair disheveled, but he’s not angry. At least, as far as you can tell. He shoves his hands in his pockets, maybe to keep them off of you.

It is hard not to stare at the sizeable bulge in his preppy khakis.

He blows a long breath out of his nostrils, closing his eyes. “I like to be in charge,” he tells you quietly, not opening his eyes, “Because when I was far too young, my stepmother groomed me to be her pretty plaything. I thought I was getting revenge on my father, because I was angry at him for divorcing my mother. But the joke was on me. I did…anything she asked, and she asked a lot. I didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, until I went away to college. When she sensed she was losing her hold on me, she actually tried to get me to drop out, then she tried to get me expelled. She was a fucking piece of work, and that’s why I am the way I am.”

When at last he works up the courage to look at you, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed in your pretty dress like a rumpled flower, with tears in your eyes for him. “I’m so sorry, Julian…” You reach for him, even though you’re unsure he even wants to be held.

“And I like to bind my partners’ hands, because sometimes being touched during what should be the most wonderful act a man can enjoy reminds me of her, and I can’t stand it. Even…when I’m with someone who I want to touch me.” He gives you a pointed look then, and you understand, and you don’t think he’s trying to manipulate you. He’s just telling you an ugly truth.

Now, it seems you’re both agitated, and what had promised to be a lovely evening is now spiraling down into the abyss. You can’t help but feel responsible for that.

Julian shakes himself, and shakes his head. You feel him drawing away from you, even before he’s moved his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then he does start to retreat, but you reach out to him. “Julian, wait…”

He freezes in his tracks, looking up at you through the curtain of his silky hair.

“Pineapple.”

He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“That’s my safe word.”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you’re doing this because you want to, or because as usual, you sense someone needs a part of you for their own wellbeing, more than you think you do.

His mouth twists in a smile seemingly involuntarily. “I suppose that isn’t something one usually hears in the throes of passion.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yes.” His look sharpens upon you then, and you feel a fresh gush of moisture between your legs, your bare toes curling. Suddenly, he seems taller, somehow, as though he’s taking up more space in the room than before. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Not really, but this won’t be the first time you jump in head first to something you don’t know if you can handle. “Yeah. I believe you, when you say you won’t hurt me.”

Maybe you’re not sure exactly where the whole punishment thing fits in he was talking about earlier, but you assume you’ll get to that later.

He nods, his nostrils flaring as he looks you over again. You watch as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. And then he returns to loosening that shining blue silk tie from his neck, sliding the fine fabric between his long fingers. “I picked this color tonight because I thought it would look so pretty on you,” he admits.

“How…thoughtful?” You can’t help but tease him, even if your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest.

“Hmm. Someone always has something smart to say.” He strides across the room to you, boldly standing between your legs at the edge of the bed.

“I think you like it?” You can’t help the squeak in your voice, and it makes him smirk down at you. It’s unnervingly similar to someone else who likes to throw around an insouciant half smile, and your fingers curl in the bedspread by your thighs.

Do not think about Tom right now.

It’s too late, of course.

“Give me your hands.” There is that authoritative tone again, that makes everyone at the hospital and out in the real world stand at attention. Everyone, but Tom Ludlow, of course. Unbidden, the image of Tom’s fist making that irreverent gesture out the window enters your head—and like the idiot you are, you smile.

It causes Julian to look at you strangely, searching you out. “What’s so funny?”

You sigh, closing your eyes against that probing stare. “I don’t know,” you deflect, master of the witty riposte as always. Hoping to distract him, you offer up your wrists. “Like this?” you ask, and golly if your ploy doesn’t work.

“That’s my good girl.” A damning warmth spreads through you from his praise, and you watch with fascination as he loops your wrists with the blue silk, tying it off with a beautiful bow that does look pretty against your skin. “We’ll start with this,” he tells you. “If you really want, you can undo it with your teeth.”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, appreciating the gesture.

“Tell me the safeword?” He asks, lifting your hands up above your head, looking absolutely feral, ready to eat you alive.

“Pineapple,” you tell him, flexing your hands above your head and pushing your tits out for him. God, it’s been forever since you’ve had anything inside you besides your own boring fingers, and you’re more than ready for him to take the straining bulge out of his pants and slip it into your perpetually aching cunt.

“Keep your hands above your head for me?” You can tell by his tone that it’s more of a demand than an ask, but at least he's trying to be sweet despite wrestling internally with some beast that wants to bind you immobile and shove a gag in your mouth.

Every hair stands on end at just the thrill of having his silky, non committed tie around your wrists, so you wonder how you’d fair in something stricter. Apparently, your vagina likes the theory of it, because she pulses insistently for some kind of attention—Jesus, any kind of attention that’s not just from you.

You and her may argue sometimes—much more now that Ludlow has kicked the imaginary door of your life down and stormed in for a raid—but you still share the same brain, and both of you agree that Julian is very fucking hot while he takes off his upper attire to reveal toned, tight, thin muscle and perfect golden skin.

“Is there, um, anything you want me to call you?” You ask, little toes curling and flexing on his comforter.

“You want to properly address me?” His teeth peek out of the wayward grin, hands slipping the belt out of his pants and filling you with Tom thoughts again.

“Yeah, I do.”

“How about Doctor? Something familiar?”

“Something tells me you’ve thought of this scenario before,” you muse, toying with the wrought iron post of his bed. You have to admit, Doctor isn’t your favorite term of endearment, but you suppose that if it makes him fuck you sooner it doesn’t really matter.

Sans pants, his cock tents and fills his briefs, and that tiny creature living inside you comes out of her burrow to remind you that she’s very, very hungry. He really is a gorgeous specimen of a man. You could probably find his mimic in a museum statue or erotic magazine with only one huge, girthy difference.

How the fuck is that monster not going to hurt you after years of only having your own little fingers for comparison?

“Jesus,” you breathe, unaware that you say it out loud at first.

He pumps his hand once or twice over the silk coated shaft, showing off that big, beautiful cock and rubbing a bead of pearly cum over the tip. “Hands above your head, y/n, and don’t make me say it a third time.”

You bite your lip hard to keep from groaning in protest and place those conniving, sneaky limbs up above you again. “Yes, Doctor.” It would sound strange to you if you had any common sense right now—if your brain wasn’t currently leaking out of your cunt.

A little piece of you—actually and worryingly it’s more than just a little piece—wants to challenge him to see exactly what he’ll do.

“Do you want me to tell you what I wanted to do to you when you disobeyed my orders?”

“Spank me?” You ask, words too bold for how you’re feeling—how your whole body is overflowing with burning, bashful blood and sinking into the cushion of his bed to hide.

He laughs, low and wicked, and shakes his head. At least you get a little needy grumble from him, although you’re not sure if that’s because he’s stroking his cock or not. “No, not spank you. I think you’d enjoy that too much.”

“Then what?” You raise your chin a little bit, and the look he pins you with reminds you of what wild horses must see in the person’s eyes that wants to ride and break and domesticate them. A little panic alarm lights up your brain, and it gets louder the more he talks.

“Instead of rubbing these tired, sore feet, I would have gotten a thin piece of finished wood and whipped them with it.”

Your toes instantly curl and tuck in defense, heels digging into the bed to shy away from his mean words. “I don’t know if I’d like that,” you admit.

“That’s the point of a punishment, little girl. You’re not supposed to like it.” Julian transforms into something scary for the first time, and you think this might be that dominant side of him coming to bat again. You don’t really like it when he’s all business no play, void of jokes and grins, snarling like a rabid jaguar.

“Julian, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. It scares me.”

His ferocity goes limp right along with his dick, and the sight of that makes you want to scream and cry and pound your fists on the floor like a tantrum throwing child. Your vagina, who was just minutes ago getting along with you, once again wants you dead.

Dr. Jekyll sits beside you on the bed and puts a soothing, heating pad hand on your belly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I shouldn’t have gone into that so fast. I got carried away. It’s been a while.”

Although his apology is warranted, and what he says is true about going too far, that caretaker in your blood wants nothing more than to soothe him while he has a mini existential crisis about making you feel uncomfortable. You sit up and rub his shoulders with bound hands.

“Julian, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replies, combing a hand through his soft hair. “We should have discussed details before jumping in. I just”—he cups your cheek and kisses your head—“I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The thought of having to go through a detailed discussion before having sex with your partner every time has the opposite effect of Tom Ludlow’s—fuck, here he is again—spontaneity and makes your pussy dry up.

As though he senses you’re about to take your teeth to his very nice silk tie, he turns to unbind your hands with one deft pull. You feel fine, but you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your wrists. You sit there in the quiet together for what feels like a long time, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand, kissing your palm. “That thing I told you? It’s not something I offer up freely to anyone. Not even my playmates.”

You nod against him. “I understand.”

“I just…wanted you to know me.”

The human need to lay yourself bare in the hopes of acceptance is something you understand all too well—and something you never do anymore, because it just always ends badly. That he wanted you that much squeezes your heart in a merciless fist, because the healer in you wants to help him, but you’re not sure you can give this man what he really needs.

“Did you…want me before I talked back to you?” Suddenly the question is burning in your brain and you have to know.

Julian smirks at that. “You’ve always talked back to me, y/n.” With that he kisses your forehead, and starts to get dressed again.

What a goddamned shame.

It’s totally not helpful, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking that if Tom had you in this position tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk right, and not because you’d said the wrong thing and got yourself punished with a sliver of wood or whatever the fuck Julian kept in his closet.

You wouldn’t be going home feeling even emptier than when you arrived.

Maybe, you wouldn’t be going home at all.

Julian asks you to stay with him a while longer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie—some cheap new thriller that makes you both jump and gasp. It’s sort of funny, to watch the man that was just spouting off his desire to use ancient torture methods on you get scared at a guy with a shiny knife popping out of bushes.

At one point, while you’re laying on his bare chest and inhaling the citrusy sweat of his skin and becoming increasingly warm to the idea of giving his discarded silky tie another try, you start tracing your fingers down the hard line of his stomach, flicking over the elastic of his thin sweatpants.

He stalls your movement, and looks down at you apologetically. “Not tonight, honey.”

You know he was just fiending for your bound form with his dick in his hand, so you’re not sure why he’s stopping you, but your woe-is-me brain immediately, and as usual, jumps to the conclusion that he never wanted you in the first place.

You will not be the giving tree anymore. You will not be the obsessed, lovesick girl willing to do anything just to get that same love back. You won’t—you can’t—do it again.

“It’s late,” you sigh, sitting up. You’ve long sobered from dinner, and you’re tired, and you kind of want to be alone so you can go home and cry. “Thank you for dinner.” You’re not so sure about the rest, and in the rueful curl of Julian’s lips you can tell he’s well aware how disappointing all this was. For both of you, you suppose. He kisses you goodnight at the door, and you get in your car to drive home.

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #tom ludlow #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

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bkglovergirl · 1 day

Text

♡𓂃Oversized teddy bear?

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲Things start getting into motion after Bakugou set some ground rules for him to be your husband. Now, Bakugou doesn't retaliate against you in the dorm, but what happens when the couple has to train and battle together? Will Bakugou slowly start breaking down his rules? And you are under mental stress on why Bakugou is acting so weird.

Word count; 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You groan, stretching. It’s so bright, and this has to be one of the worst nights you've had in ages. You turn and face the TV, forgetting you passed out watching movies. “Why the hell are you out here?”

“Not too loud..” you sit up yawning.

“I wasn't even loud!” you winch giving him a death stare. He’s in the kitchen washing the dishes and he has.. an apron on? You can’t help but stare because he in fact doesn't have a fucking shirt on!

“No fucking way.”

“What!?”

“Are you wearing a fucking apron?!” You laugh at him which seems to be a pattern now.

“HEY I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE NICE AND DO THE DISHES FOR YOU!” The scoreboard goes up a point

“You just keep surprising me with how much of a big dork you are!” Bakugou quickly wipes off his hands and makes his way to you. You try catching your breath but seeing him in full view makes you laugh even more. He makes a low growl and pushes you down onto the couch, moving himself to sit on you. Not putting so much pressure as his weight would clear your windpipes but enough to make you trap. You stop laughing admittedly and stare right up at him, going quickly from finding everything hilarious a second to go, to now being turned on. “What are you doing dipshit! YOU ARE HEAVY!”

“It made you stop laughing at me, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it being a daily occurrence!”

“It's not my fault; your face is very funny!” Bakugou moves down a bit so that your faces are face to face, giving you a glare, and your face gets hot quickly. You chose to rationalize it that the heat is coming from him and not because you are blushing.

“Is my face funny now?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” You quickly glance over his body and look back at his face. You look like a full-on house husband.” Now it’s Bakugou’s turn to blush, and you decide to use this to your advantage. You put your arms around his neck. “Aww, does someone want a reward for doing the dishes?” The scoreboard shows four now.

“No. what your husband wants is for you to stop laughing at him!”

“I think we can achieve that ONLY if you do the dishes all the time.” You smile, “with the same outfit you are wearing now.”

“I thought you said I was a stingy bitch for having rules.” you move one of your hands to trace down his apron.

“Oh you still are.” and you push him off you. Bakugou blushing caught off guard mess falls on his ass and you quickly run to your room and slam the door before he could do anything else. You take a deep breath falling onto your bed, the heat on your face is overwhelming and you curl into a ball.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

An hour passes and you step back into the living room after changing into fresh school clothes. “I’m going out early for a workout,” Bakugou says putting on his shoes. You quickly grab his training bag and hand it to him. “Ok, you don’t want breakfast?” you're kinda happy he’s leaving and acting like nothing is happening.

“No it’s fine.” he grabs his bag and gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking out notably quickly. You blush hearing the score go up another point marking you guys at having five. Maybe things didn't go back to normal.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You and Midoriya are sitting in the common room, he is sitting extremely close to you as you said you wanted this to be top secret as you put it. “Do you remember how Bakugou gruesomely rejected me in middle school?”

“Yeah and you had sworn to me he was your number one enemy.”

“Well.. you know how he’s my Husband..” Midoriya nods, “He uh... Kissed me on the cheek this morning..”

“WHAT?” It looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head, “Our Kachan?”

“Don’t call him ours!” You hit his arm, and with an ouch, he held your hand down. Being both your self-proclaimed best friend, he’s had to watch this fake rivalry, and in his words, it’s been physically painful on him. As you both, without knowing, take your tension out on him, he has no complaints. This way, though, he knows more than both of you combined.

“What caused him to do that?” he lets go of your hand and you put your shoulder on his head.

“Shoto gave me this idea-”

“Shoto?”

“ANWAY! Shoto gave me this idea because Bakugou wanted nothing to do with this whole situation. It was to make this as competitive as possible. I threw you in there, and BAM! He’s in with a few rules, of course. He seemed not interested at all. I was doing things to get us points, and he just went along with it, with the most effort he could put in. I didn't do anything! He just did it.” He hums in agreement and lets you know he's listening and he starts braiding a strip of your hair. Just like when you were kids he lets you rant while he plays with your hair, it makes him think better when trying to come up with solutions for your problems. “He rejected me. I know I asked him just to take this a little bit seriously but that!? What does that mean? You're a boy what does that mean?!”

“What it means in simple boy logic is he likes you.”

“Simple boy logic?! He’s not a simple boy! He’s Bakugou!” He laughs at you.

“True. But Katchan wouldn't just do that.”

“I wouldn't just do what?” Speak of the devil, Bakugou walks in placing his bag on the table near you and Midoriya. He looks at the both of you. You two cuddled close with your head on his shoulder and Midoriya playing with your hair. This is normal. This has been normal since middle school but for some reason, the itch is back and his face gets hot with anger. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope! I was just leaving.” With that Midoriya stands up but you pull him back down.

“No, you weren't!”

“Yes, I was!”

“You both are a bunch of children.” Bakugou puts his two cents. Which weren't needed.

“Oh, were children? Let’s just bring up the chair, shall we?” You stand up, trying to intimidate Bakugou. To show that it doesn't work, he crosses his arms, but his shoulders are tense. “Or the fact that Midoriya here is points ahead of you.” Midoriya hearing his name be mentioned scoots away but you and Bakugou both give him a look and he stays still.

“Why should I care how much he has?!”

“Because someone can’t handle the fact he’s not number one at something! Clearly, he’s a better husband than you are.” Bakugou drops his arms in defeat. He’s ticked off, and it’s taking everything in him not to blow something up.

“If Deku is so great why don’t you be his wife!”

“I would but our points are so low I can’t!” Rolling his eyes he grabs his bag off the table and stomps off. You fall back down onto the couch and Midoriya itches back over to you.

“Well that could have been worse.” you kick him putting your face into your own hands.

“Shut up.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Of all the days these training scenarios could have happened, today was the worst day. As All might put it, we had to work out balancing Hero work with your “partner.” The first scenario involves working on a team against another couple, and the second involves fighting a villain with a high risk of a “married couple” losing a partner, and we don’t know who is getting picked as the ‘victim.’ Your quirk and Bakugou’s quirk do NOT get along and the efforts to make them mash together at all are zero to none. Your quirk controls plants, much like Shiozaki but a lot more advanced. You can control all plants and the lighting effects which plants you can use and how effective they will be. If you make the plant prick someone you can give them a negative or positive association with the plant. Now you see why Bakugou and your quirk don’t mesh well together, he can set your pretty plants on fire. You and Bakugou got dropped into a dark area with pipes and wires all around you both. You have no way of knowing where the other team is which is Shoto and Yaoyorozu and that gives you guys a big disadvantage. You start growing cast iron plants and slowly they glide into the pipes and start exploring them meanwhile Bakugou grumbles around stomping trying to find anything that could give him an advantage. He doesn't and it causes him to let off some explosives which causes your plants to shrivel and burn. “What the hell man!”

“What?!”

“Don’t do that I’m trying to find them! And you're making them find us!”

“Can’t you use Mushrooms or something so I don’t gotta fucking tiptoe around your stupid plants?!” You glide the cast iron plants back through the pipes.

“Well, one mushrooms aren't plants they're fungi dumbass and two my plants aren't stupid!” you shiver, “found them.”

“You did?”

“Yep, and no thanks to you.”

“Shut it.” You start running, and Bakugou follows behind. As you run down the corridor, ice starts forming all around. “STUPID ICYHOT!” Bakugou yells blasting the ice that's made his way towards him and only him. You let out a frustrated sigh and start using Lampranthus to move you around the ice having it attach to your feet and arms. It was going well, You see Shoto and Yaoyorozu and move closer to them but Bakugou blasts toward them and past you causing the plant to shrivel and causing you to fall. You panic not knowing which plant in the moment could handle the intense elements. The fall is big and over huge ice. You close your eyes and hug yourself but you overhear Shoto yell something and Yaoyorozu yell something. Instead of landing on hard cold ice, you land on a... Oversized Teddy bear? You look up and see Shoto smiling at you and Yaoyorozu gives you a thumbs up. Bakugou was right next to you. It looks like Shoto got to saving you before he could and he’s fucking pissed. His shoulder tense and so does his jaw. “DIE!” Bakugou blasts toward them with Shoto making an ice shield but with the blast's heat it doesn't do well and causes the pair to fall back. Shoto quickly incases the room with ice and causes some ice to form around Bakugou’s hands giving them time to escape. “Fuck!” he stands still trying to get enough sweat but it doesn't work, “Mother fucker!”

“Chill out! You are the reason they got away with the stupid impulse attack!” you run up to Bakugou looking at his hands.

“OH, I’M THE REASON?!” he looks at you like you just wished hell on his mother. “You're the one that let the enemy team save you!”

“Yes, because did you hear me say, Hey Shoto, save me? NO!” You open up your palm and grow a Deadly nightshade. “When I say now, you take this and eat it,” you grow the cast iron plants, and from your feet, they sprout, moving around trying to find the other team. “Got them.” Ignoring Bakugou’s grumbling, you start running, which he follows admittedly. You stop putting your hand out to stop Bakugou and before he can say anything you put a finger to your lips shutting him up. He’ll get you back for it later. Bakugou looks down at you, the purple plant wrapped around your hand and fingers like it’s home. He finally takes a look at your hero outfit. So engrossed in the fight he doesn't even realize that the new one you have been designing has finally arrived and don't ask why he knows you've been working on one. The dark green shirt is tight onto your skin and the sleeves go down enough to make gloves. The cut of the shirt shows off your chest and all over the shirt is little lines the plants could hold onto. You went from pants to a black shirt which is now really noticeable to Bakugou. The skirt's top and bottom also has attachments for your plants. You’ve always complained about your shoes and how they don't support your quirk and if you ask Bakugou why he knows this little fact he’ll say you complained about it so much it’s bolted into his brain but the truth is you only complained once. You have heel boots now and a normal person wouldn't want heels on your costume but you made sure you had them. The heels of the boots have a hole at the bottom, so one of your plants could slitter down and into the ground instead of having holes on a flat shoe which has always made you and your plants uncomfortable. You also changed your hair, it's half up from its normal ponytail. Bakugou knows why you made this change and it’s all for your plants. “I’ll distract them. Now eat this and when you feel the sweat break free and attack.” You hand him the flower and by hand, you bring it up to his mouth and he bites down. “Don’t eat it yet.” and you run out. You start spreading out Caladium, or heart-to-heart. You make the plant swarm around Shoto and hold down Yaoyorozu. Which works for a minute before Shoto shoots ice around your feet not causing you to get stuck but causing your plant to wither and even wither underground which was holding down Yaoyorozu. “NOW BAKUGOU.” And Bakugou trusts you. Bakugou trusts you so he eats the plant. Bakugou trusts you so he starts getting hot and sweaty but he also starts getting dizzy. Either way, Bakugou runs out and with the fever running through him, he’s able to break free from the ice and because Bakugou trusts you he sends his quirk full force which knocks out Yaoyorozu completely and causes Todoroki to stumble You take advantage of the heat caused by his quirk and send out the plant again, the heart to heart plant wraps Yaoyorozu and Shoto capturing them. A ding goes off and an announcement is heard claiming you and Bakugou as the winners. You celebrate smiling and run up to Bakugou, and in his confused dazz he smiles back before passing out.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Bakugou groans the pain in his head is unbearable. He turns his body and suddenly he smells… lavender? He slowly opens his eyes. He squints just seeing bright white and slowly his eyes adjust and see you. Your head is resting on your hand and your eyes are closed. Lavender is growing out of your hair and it's looped around like the flowers were meant to be there. He smiles taking a deep breath before, “Hey!” You open your eyes and his smile is gone, He regrets yelling as his head hurts right away.

“I am so sorry.”

“What are you on about?”

“I’m sorry! Aizawa chewed me out, and he’s right. I totally should have told you the repercussions of the flower you ate, and you wouldn't have taken it if I had. He took all our points as punishment, and if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here, and we would be on to the next scenario training!” Bakugou stares at you, dazed.

“The fuck are you talking about? I trusted you so I ate it. Stop tweaking out, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't wanna. Simple.”

“But our points… and you won't get to train.” You grab your hair, causing some lavender petals to get all in it. Bakugou slowly sits up and starts picking the petals out of your hair.

“I said it’s fine, and we won anyway, so it's no big deal.” You smile at him.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Never mind it was a big fucking deal because why the fuck is that stupid fucking Teddy bear in your dorm? Bakugou feels like the bear is staring at him tauntingly. “Why the fuck is that here?” he points at the teddy bear. You were in the kitchen cooking dinner and you peek your head out to see what he was talking about.

“After the battle, Shoto gave me it.” So while he was dead weight, Shoto comforted you and gave you the bear that saved you when he should have. That was the cherry on top.

“Shoto, Shoto, Shoto.” He mocks sitting on the couch, huffing like a child. That’s all I ever hear!” You let him pout like a baby and finish cooking dinner. You bring the plates out and sit in front of the couch, placing them on the table in front of you both. A point goes up on the board and you are back to one.

“And your problem is?” You look at Bakugou as he quickly starts eating. He shakes his head and he keeps eating so you reach over and grab the remote. Or you try and grab the remote. Bakugou catches your hand and gives you a glare.

“No remote until you get rid of that stupid teddy bear!” You roll your eyes and laugh. Standing up, you grab the bear and walk into your bedroom. Bakugou watches you intently. You throw the bear on your bed, and with its size, it takes up a lot of space. “Not on your bed!” You look at him quickly.

“Why!?”

“Because I said so!”

“You are crazy!” You shut your bedroom door and walked back over to the couch. “What is the issue?” He ignored you, and his hand was tense around the remote. “So protective of the remote,” you mocked, eating your food. You heard a grumble from him, and you two sat quietly, watching one of his shows and eating. After you two finished, you got up and grabbed the plates, suspecting that he’d keep being protective over the remote.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up?”

“Why?”

“Because you wanna hold onto the remote like it's life or death.”

“I’ll clean up, that’s my job.” He stands up with the remote. He goes to take the plates out of your hands but struggles with one of his hands being occupied. So he puts the remote to his mouth and he bites down and grabs the plates. You look at him funny.

“Are you for real right now?” Bakugou ignores you and walks into the kitchen. He starts cleaning. “You are so stubborn; it’s annoying.” You sit back on the couch and notice the point board showing two. You smile. Once Bakugou is done he comes and sits back down, he left the remote in the kitchen so you both are stuck watching the News. “I’m getting the remote. I don’t wanna watch this.” Before you can stand up Bakugou lays on on, you blush with your hands hovering over him. “Get up.” he ignores you. “Bakugou get up.”

“Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Call me Katsuki!” You stare at him before slowly placing a hand on his back.

“Why? I thought you didn’t care for the first-name bullshit.”

“Well, I’m tired of Todoroki getting the special privilege! I’m your husband, not him!” He sits up a bit, and your faces are close together. Your hand falls onto his.

“Alright, Katsuki.” He blushes and looks at the kitchen.

“Yeah, whatever Y/N.” You smile. He has had enough and gets up, walking into the kitchen. He comes back out and throws the remote at you before going into his room. The scoreboard shows five.

Tags and notes;

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg @kukikoooo

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #mha x reader #mha

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ms--lobotomy · 2 days

Text

Don’t do energy drinks at 3 pm, lest you end up like me and can’t sleep. Thanks @kit-williams for the writer’s inspiration thing. 😊

Summary: One of your Iron Hands minis inexplicably disappears. Conversely, there is a very big Iron Hand man at your door. Uh oh

Word Count: 1216

Content Warnings: Attempted violence, a guilty pleasure trope of mine, uhhh that’s probably all?

A half-smile crossed your face as you put down the last mini and wrung the Mephiston Red off of your paintbrush. Finished. You admired your handiwork, turning him around in your hands a little bit. He was the only one of his brothers without a helmet, but half of his face was covered by metal implements anyways. Painting an Iron Hands space marine (Iron Hand?) was no small order. The brush you’d bought specifically to paint them was still too big, so you’d cut off some of the bristles. And it still frayed, blotching paint where it wasn’t supposed to go. But you’d covered it up well enough that you couldn’t notice most of it. Even though he was one of five of your first minis, he was perfect.

You looked out of the window of your apartment, a little studio think a ways away from anything meaningful. It was dark… kind of. Streetlights lit the scene with no concern for light pollution and cars still travelled outside, sometimes stuck behind a light and sometimes rushing past. Occasionally someone would blare music (and not normally music you liked.) The sound would reach your window, sometimes even piercing your headphones. No matter. It wasn’t happening now.

You opened your phone and checked the time, idly wondering if anyone had sent you anything. 1 AM. The only notification was from Instagram. “Top reels in the United States!” it declared. Lovely. You yawned as you reached for your medication, popping the pills down your throat. You grabbed first for your paint water, then for your water bottle to wash them down. You wasted no time in getting to bed, letting sleep consume you.

You woke up to a loud bang bang bang on the door. Someone with a deep, rumbling voice called out something in a language you didn’t understand, a language you couldn’t even put a name to. You tumbled out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and looked out of the window. Still dark. After that, you went to look at the peephole. And then your heart skipped a beat.

You beheld a man tall enough that he had to crouch slightly, and even then his head scraped the ceiling. Half of his face was replaced by mechanical implements, three red lenses where his left eye should be. The right side of his face was scarred and tattered, with a dark brown eye that looked human enough. There was a short chop of black hair on his head. You looked at his armor. There were the mistakes on the armor, blotches of white and little lumps where it was layered on too thickly.

He banged on the door again, causing it to shake. Before weighing your options, you cracked the door open. “Hello?” you’d asked groggily, wiping your eye with your hand.

Before you could process anything, he pushed past you as if you were nothing but a large weed. Your heart beat in your chest and you instinctively reached for the light. Your eyes widened as you processed that there was an intruder in your apartment, and he was large. You watched him scan the room. As he reached for your drawers, you felt your mouth open up. “If you’re here to steal from me, I regret to inform you that I don’t have much,” you yawned. Your eyes darted towards the congregation on your desk, next to your less expensive paints and brushes. “Please don’t take my minis, though. I worked really hard on th—“

He made a beeline for the minis, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed that there were only four on the table. All of them had their little helmets intact. He examined them carefully, only touching the bases as he picked them up and put them back down.

He was harmless so far, but an intruder nonetheless. You looked for a weapon while he was turned away. You hadn’t much in your apartment; the most dangerous thing in your vicinity was a mechanical pencil laying near your feet. You picked it up. Better than nothing. You began looking for a weakness in his armor, a chink in the metal that surrounded him. Could you reach the back of his neck..? There was only one way to find out.

As you jumped, he snapped back around, a detached look in his eye. The pencil deflected off of his armor and he grabbed you, stepping back into the desk a little bit to steady himself. The desk gave way a little bit, creaking against the faux wood of the floor. His armor was cold and rough against your skin. And he was so large against you, larger than anyone of your own kind. He said something in that language of his before he set you down, steadying you on your feet before he let go.

You watched him look over the mess that was your desk. He picked up a months-old painting done on some scrap paper—something that wasn’t too great by your standards, really—and looked at it for a few moments before gingerly placing it back where it was. Your eyelids slid down slightly. He had no intention of harming you or your apartment.

As his attention slid to your paint water, you chuckled. “What happened to ‘hello?’” you asked, your tone much lighter than it had been.

He turned around, extending a hand. “Hutri,” he said.

You blinked, before taking it. Your face went warm as his hand engulfed yours. You said your name quietly, hoping that Hutri was his name and not an expression in his native language. He repeated it before chuckling, his hand falling from yours. You half wanted to guide your hand to his, but you didn’t know how to do so naturally.

“I guess you really don’t have anywhere to go,” you said quietly. You surveyed your room. There wasn’t even a beanbag chair for you to sleep on. Your bed was made for a baseline human, but it could probably support him if he tried hard enough. You pointed at the bed. “You can take the bed,” you said. “I don’t know where you came from, but you probably need to rest.”

He looked down at you, then at the bed. He began to remove his armor, and you looked away, feeling your face go warm again. He said something, but you hadn’t a clue what it meant. Once you stopped hearing armor fall to the ground (and stopped praying for your downstairs neighbors) you turned around to see him in his body glove. Augmentations still poked out, making themselves known through little convexities popping up from underneath it. He climbed into the twin bed with ease, curling up on it so he could fit. And he left a little bit of room on the side. He beckoned you over wordlessly, pressing himself against the cold wall.

“I’ve had enough sleep,” you muttered, feeling your face warming again. Truth be told, you hadn’t curled up with someone like that in a long while. You missed feeling the warmth of someone close by, feeling their chest rise and fall against you. You looked at him, the right half of his face staring at you expressionlessly.

“Alright, just let me turn the lights off.”

#warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #iron hands x reader #reader insert #iron hands #oc x reader #warhammer lobotomy

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vivwritesfics · 2 days

Text

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Four - Not-Bob

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner) (Specifically this chapter has 0 warnings, it's just cute)

Series Masterlist

"You officially dress like a grandpa."

On the two other times they had met, she had been at the café before him, almost like she was waiting for him. This time, though, Bob was there first. He had her hazelnut latte with oat milk and a black coffee in front of him.

When she took off her bag and sat opposite him, Bob pushed the hazelnut latte towards her. "You know," she began as she settled into her seat. "I come here to write. You're making it really hard, Bobby," she said, wearing a smile. "But thank you."

Bob gave it a second. "You owe me a name," he said, one hand around his coffee shop mug.

"You're a terrible stalker." She shook her head, grin widening as she took another sip. It was perfect, her exact order. But then she gave him her name.

Bob repeated it back to her, letting it roll off the tongue. "It's nice," he said. "Nicer than Bob."

"Shut up," she said quickly. But it wasn’t malicious in any way. "If you don't like it, why does everybody call you Bob?"

Bob brought his coffee to his lips. "It's my Callsign," he said as he took in a too big sip, burning his mouth in the process. But Bob ignored the sensation as he looked at her.

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "What's a Callsign?"

"It's pretty much a nickname that's used for identification. There's probably loads of Roberts on a carrier at any one time but I'm the only Bob," he said and adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit.

She folded her arms over her chest, holding her elbows as she looked at him. "Well, I like Bob," she said, reaching for her coffee. "It's... nice." She couldn't tell him it was cute, even if that was what she meant.

Bob looked around at the café. On the two previous occasions they had met, she had been alone. Even now she was sitting with Bob. Not friends, not her boyfriend. She was alone, aside from Bob.

"What do you do for fun around here?" Bob asked as he leaned forward.

She let out a laugh, but only a weak one. "What do I do for fun? What do you do for fun, Mr Pilot Guy?"

"I go to The Hard Deck," Bob answered.

He stared at her as he waited for her to answer. But, for the first time since they had met, he had left her without anything to say.

Her eyes met his as she fiddled with her cream, cuffed sleeve of her sweater. "Is it... do you guys really have fun in there?" She asked him.

Bob's brows furrowed behind his glasses. "I thought you said you'd been there."

"I have!" She said quickly. "But, you know, it wasn’t all that fun," the last part she said quietly.

That look crossed her face again, the one she wore when he had asked about the book. As much Bob wanted to reach across and touch her hand, he didn’t. "You could come with us, if you'd like. I'd make sure Hangman behaves."

"Yeah," she responded quietly. "I might take you up on that."

She quickly changed the subject, making things light and fun once again. She asked him about Montana, she had so many questions about Montana. Bob answered all of them. He told her about his grandparents farm, about the little house at the bottom of the property. When he was eighteen he had promised his Grandma that he would fix it up, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. But he had certainly meant to.

She checked the time on her phone periodically, comparing it to the sky. Watching for when it got dark, Bob figured. He had hoped that, once again, he'd get to walk her home.

But, when the sky turned orange, she stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I've got to go," she said with a smile. "Thanks for the coffee, Bob."

He stood up with her, bumping the table as he did so. "Do you want me to walk you home? I'm more than happy to," he said, but she shook her head.

"It's okay," she replied and looked at the sky as it turned orange. "It's not dark yet."

But, still, Bob wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. "It's on my way home. It really wouldn't be a-"

"I said no, Bob," she said suddenly, firmly. "Drop it."

Bob just watched her as she walked out of the cafe, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked down the street. As soon as he couldn't see her, he walked out of the cafe and climbed into his truck. He watched her in his rearview mirror, at least until she turned the corner.

Bob couldn’t help but sigh as he drove off, heading in the other direction to his apartment. He hadn't meant to lie about where he lived and, while it felt harmless at the time, Bob regretted it.

When she disappeared, he let out a sigh and began driving back to his house, back to Frodo. Did she like cats, he found himself wondering. Would she like Frodo if she met him? Frodo would like her. He'd attached himself to the few women that had come into his little house.

***

On the Monday, Bob volunteered for the coffee run yet again. He was already patting his wallet as he began walking out to his truck.

But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I'll get it, Baby Bob," said Jake. He gave Bob no time to respond as he climbed into his own car.

"Wait!" Bob called as he watched the car disappear. "Hangman!"

Jake wasn't getting the coffee out of the goodness of his heart. He wasn't doing it to pay Bob back for all of the times he had paid for coffee. He wasn't doing it to give Bob time to prepare for his next lesson at Top Gun.

When Bob was gone for all of those hours on Saturday, he and Natasha had been discussing all sorts of theories. After going in circles, they narrowed in on the cute barista with the pink hair.

Jake parked up outside of the cafe. He climbed out of the car and strode in with the confidence of a saltwater crocodile (a notoriously confident animal).

He didn't spot the cute barista with the pink hair right away. His eyes scanned behind the counter as he stepped up to it. He rang the bell, waiting for someone to serve him.

The cute barista with the pink hair came around the corner. "Hey there," she said with a charming smile.

Jake didn't know what Bob's type was, didn't know that his type was sitting on one of the tables behind him, writing in her newly acquired notebook.

Jake wore his award winning, charming smile as he looked at her name tag. "Hello," he squinted at her name tag, "Mariana," he said, drumming his fingers against the counter top. "Can I get three black coffees?"

Immediately she turned to make coffee. "Do you like a man in uniform, Mariana?" He asked.

"Sure, hun," she said and placed the first coffee in a cup holder on the counter in front of him.

"Yeah," Jake muttered as he rocked on the balls of his feet. "Yeah, one of my fellow aviators has been coming in here a lot," he said. "You haven't seen him, have you? These geeky glasses, Callsign Bob?"

Mariana wore a contemplative expression as she placed the other two coffees in the cup holder.

"Yeah," she finally said, nodding. "Yeah. A hazelnut oat latte and either a black coffee or a tea," she said, looking past Jake. But her eyes quickly went back to him as she rang him up.

He pulled the money from his wallet. "So, Bob hasn't been flirting with you?" He asked with his brows furrowed.

Mariana couldn't stop the laugh from leaving her lips. "I wish," she said to him. "Hasn't he gotten a girlfriend? He always gets his drinks and then sits on one of the back tables with a girl in a knit sweater."

Jake picked up his coffees, thanked her and walked out of the cafe. He climbed into his car and looked back towards the café. Girl in a sweater. He was looking for a girl in a knit sweater.

Of the three people sitting in the café, none of them were wearing a knit sweater.

Jake let out a sigh as he drove away.

She had noticed him the moment he had walked into the cafe. His khaki uniform was the same as what Bob was wearing when they first met, when he threw the coffee over her. She couldn't help but hope it was him, until she looked at his face.

She was crushed with disappointment.

When Not-Bob started talking to the barista, she tried not to listen in. It wasn't her business what this navy man was talking about. He wasn't Bob, so why should she care? Even if it was Bob, she shouldn't be caring if he was flirting with Mariana.

But then Not-Bob mentioned Bob's name, and she couldn't stop herself from listening in. The questions that Not-Bob directed at Mariana, she couldn't help but think that they should have been directed at her.

She sipped her hazelnut oat latte, pen still against the paper as she listened. When Mariana told Not-Bob about her sweater, she grinned, holding back a laugh. Oh yeah, they were definitely talking about her.

Not-Bob thanked Mariana and walked out of the café. She watched him sit in his car for a moment before he drove away.

When he was gone, she closed her notebook and tucked her pen into the binder rings. Slipping her notebook back into her bag she stood up and left the cafe, making her way back to her office.

As she sat at her desk, she stared at the phone. All she wanted was for it to ring, just for something to do. Her notebook, the one that Bob had bought for her, was in front of her, open once again, but she didn't write in it, not with how her boss was staring at her from the office.

The phone finally rang and she directed the call to the salesman. At the sight of her finally doing her job, her boss looked away and she began writing in the notebook.

If she had been clever, she would have gotten Bob to give her his number. God knows she would have spent all day texting him if she had his number.

But then, if she did have his number, how long until Ken found out? How long until Ken broke this phone, just like the last phone she had?

She knew she had to get Bob's phone number, but she wanted to put it off. When Ken found out about Bob, there was no telling what he would do. There was no way she would ever see Bob after, and she enjoyed his company far too much for that.

She would go to The Hard Deck. Ken be damned, she'd go. It was all planned out in her head, what she would do and how she would do it.

All through the work day she imagined how that night would go. Drinking with him, meeting his friends. It sounded like a perfect night, better than any night she had spent with Ken in a long time.

But the more she thought about it, the more anxiety settled in her stomach.

Her boss cleared her throat and she picked up the phone, one she hadn't noticed was ringing.

Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess @darksparklesficrecs @primroseluna @littlemsbumblebee @wretchedmo @imaginecrushes @calpalsbestie

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #rober floyd fluff #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun bob #lewis pullman

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vibratingskull · 2 days

Text

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 10

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, masturbation

You wince in pain. You frown and sigh frustrated at your casts. Those wretched things get in the way of absolutely everything! You cannot wait to get rid of them and go back to your former life!

For Thrawn too it would be better... A Grand Admiral should be focusing on war and not losing time over a helpless officer. You are sure his patience must start to run thin with you.

In fact you are absloutely sure of it! It has been weeks since you are in his suite and you still need those stupid casts, forcing him to help you in everything. At least you manage to eat by yourself now, that’s little but still a win.

You sigh again, your eyes falling back on your drawing folder once again. Drawing with your non-dominant hand is a pain in the ass and the result suffers so much for it. You observe the drawing you’re currently tracing, pursing your lips. That is not good!

You had to abandon portraits and models studies to focus on more abstract figures and forms. You’re not exactly vibing with that style but you’re starting to get the gist of it. You raise your pencil, wondering what to trace now when you start hearing a loud noise coming from the living room of Thrawn’s suite.

What the hell is he doing?

You lay your feet on the floor and tentatively try to stand up. You are trembling terribly but manage to stand on your two feet, although uncomfortably! You jump one step to the side, taking support on the bed, and another one, and another one, and another!

Clumsily, you cross the bedroom to finally reach the door, taking support on the wall or furnitures. You take a second to take back your breath, joy slowly florishing in your heart. This is not optimum but you succeeded in moving from point A to point B all alone! Maybe you are starting to mend after all!

The door slides open and you pass your head inside. Thrawn is kneeling close to the sofa, a little machine in hand. You clumsily jump towards the big table in the middle of the room to change point of you. Thrawn is in his black tank top, his pristine white jacket folded on one of the chair. He is screwing something in the wall, but you cannot see what.

“What are you doing, sir?” You shout over the hellish sound of the drill. Thrawn instantaneously stops, raising an eyebrow at you over his shoulder.

First off : what’s with that ‘sir’ bullshit? Aren’t you on a first name basis? Second : What are you doing in his living room? Since when can you move all by yourself? Is your time together up already?

“What is it for?” You repeat, jumping funny towards him so see. You lean forward to discover a little metal hoop screwed to the wall. You look at him with a silent question in your eyes.

“This is prevention.” He responds enigmatically, his unbothered expression already back on, “Just in case.”, “In case for what?” You ask smiling. He hooks two fingers in the metal contraption and pulls on it to test it. It doesn’t even tremble. He nods satisfied and stands back up, “Do not worry about it. I hope it will never come to use, but one is never too safe.” He closes the matter, “How did you came here?”

You smile broadly, “I jumped! It sends unpleasant vibrations through my leg cast but it’s manageable.” Thrawn looks at you up and down with a closed expression “You should not do that, you will fall.”, “But you wouldn’t need to carry me everywhere!” you counter, “Until you break a bone again.” He finishes.

You sulk, lowering your head. You hoped he would be happy for you. He is right of course, but he could have let you savor this little victory. Everything would have been simpler if you had a wheelchair but Thrawn argued you could not navigate it properly in the suite. And faire, it would be difficult.

But still...

“May I see your latest piece?” Thrawn asks, his tone infinitely softer. You raise your gaze to him, not understanding. “Your drawing folder.” He explains, gesturing to the object in your hand. You didn’t realized you still had it!

“It’s not good.” You warn. “Nonsense, I am sure it is delightful as all your other art pieces.”he retorts. You flush, hearing him qualify your stupid drawing as ‘art pieces’. “Those are silly doodles, nothing more.” you chuckle, embarassed. “Allow me to contradict you. As an art connoisseur I can recognize talent when I see it. And your art shines to my eyes like any grand master work.”

You clear you throat, heat flourishing in your cheeks, “Will you allow me?” He asks again. You press the folder against your chest, still uneasy to let Thrawn rummage through your sketches.

He tilts his head at your silence, “Is there a problem?” He invastigates. “No... Not really.” you mumble. “Perfect! So can I?” He insists.

He never loses an occasion to rummage through your drawings, especially since he entrapted you with him in his suite. He delighted himself in your evolving view of his personhood through your abstract shapes. He picked upon the fact that you started to question yourself more than his actions lately, much to his pleasure.

He doesn’t deprive himself of gaslighting you into letting him access your folder. Today is no different.

“I suppose you can...” You back down and he gently takes it off your hand. He wins again!

“What are you doing here by the way?” You ask, realizing he should be on the bridge at this hour. “It is my day off.” He explains patiently. “Oh!” You exclaim, “The legendary Grand Admirals’ days off, seen only every six months if lucky enough!” You joke. “Indeed, they are quite rare.” He nods, “But that only makes them more valuable. I shall take my time to properly appreciate and admire your pieces once I am done with those hooks.”, “You’re going to screw more?” you investigate curious. “All over the suite, especially around the bed.”

You ponder what use those little hooks would have, especially near a bed but Thrawn can do watherver he wants in his suite. You are not going to question him for something so inconsequential.

“Do you want a treat?” He asks out of the blue. Your purse your lips, thinking for a split second, Thrawn proposing a treat? Unheard off! But you are a gourmand through and through! “Why not?” You accept.

He gently helps you sit on the sofa and brings you a chocolate cake. You frown with a light smile, “You have such treats in your fridge?”, “I know you enjoy a good cake so I always keep one at arm’s reach.” He simply responds like it was obvious. “Oh... Thank you...” You flush again, “You are welcome Ch’acah.”, “What does that means exactly?” you tilt your head as you gingerly takes the plate off his hand to not drop the precious cake. “It means friend in Cheuhn.” He lies with his most insolent smile. “Can I call you Ch’acah, then?” You ask with an elated smile. “I would be delighted, Ch’acah.” He grins, dark satisfaction growing in his heart, “It would be an honor.”

You nod with glee before focusing on your cake. As you eat it you hear Thrawn continuing screwing hooks all around the suite. You savor your cake like the rare treat that it is on the Chimaera, taking your sweet time, letting each bites melt into your mouth. You are only in the middle of the cake when Thrawn reappears in the living room.

‘’Do you mind if I exercise ?’’ he asks you as he approaches his exercise bench in front of you. ‘’Not at all, Ch’acah !’’ you grin.

He doesnt show it but his heart is pounding in his chest when you call him ‘love’ in his mothertongue. It just sounds so …right! He had lovers in his past that called him ‘Ch’acah’ too, but none ever got this reaction out of him.

You are just that superior to anyone else to him !

He simply smiles at your innocent enthusiasm and decides to offer you a little spectacle for it…

Out of nowhere, Thrawn takes out his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved chest and you almost choke on your bite. He throws it somewhere in the room and prepares his bench while tou cough your lungs out.

‘’Are you alright ?’’ he cannot help but tease you. You nod hurriedly, a fist pressed against your mouth. He pretends to go back to his preparation, hiding his satisfied grin to you. You are and remain a woman who appreciate masculine bodies, and his body is particularly well made. He took great care of it for decades after all. He flexes his well defined muscles to your view, pretending to warm them up to tease and confuse you.

He has been the ‘good friend’ long enough, it is time he becomes something more in your eyes ! Something powerful and irresistible, a man on top of his game.

You do not know where to look. He never undressed in front of you before, you were so unprepared by this sudden indecence from him. You’ve seen plenty of men’s chest but Thrawn always favored his modesty. Seeing his chest exposed so suddenly like that is almost…lecherous.

You slap yourself mentally. He can expose himself if wants to, you are in his suite after all. What is it to you anyway? You bite down another bite of the cake, trying to look at absolutely everything else but him. But the blue of his skin is so deep and vibrant … Your eyes are inextricably attracted towards him.

He finishes his warm up nonchalantly, flexing his wonderfully defined shoulders and shoulderblades, letting you appreciate the glory of his back.

With a discreet and quick glance at you he notes satisifed that the heat of your cheeks is rising, such as the heat between your thighs.

Good.

Excellent even.

He lays down on his bench and starts his rep like you weren’t here, focusing in his breath while you are almost drooling on your cake with that spectacle. You bite the inner of your cheeks, trying to only look at your delicious cake but you feel your mouth and throat going dry before such view. You gulp with difficulties, Thrawn is terribly well made you realize...

You noticed before the elegance and perfection of his face but now you are forced to admit the rest of his body may be a paragon just as much. You swallow your bite slowly while he keeps showcasing his muscular body with different exercises, your eyes betraying you and always raising back to ogle him as discreetly as you can.

You chastise yourself. Thrawn is a friend! He is your Ch’acah! How dare you ogle at him in such a way?! He innocently follows his training routine and you cannot help yourself but sexualizing him.

But he is so well made it is so hard to not stare...

You instinctively press your thighs together, trying to silence your core slowly waking up at such perfection. His body is just...

Glorious

You have no other word than glorious. Suddenly your flesh and body understand why the Captain was lusting after him. It is really hard not to when you are subjected to such a vision.

Get a fucking grip, (Y/n)! Friends don’t do that to each other!

“Is there a problem Ch’acah?” Thrawn’s deep melodious voice snaps you out of your trance and you realize that despite your best efforts your eyes where fixed on him again! “N-No!” You immediately responds forcing them back on your plate. “You were fixing me so intently.” He continues.

He takes great satisfaction at your startled expression. Of course he saw how difficult it was for you to not look at him. As it should! He wants you to realize what you could have if you just succombed to temptation, what delights he could give you, what he refused to so many people before you but is ready to give today.

Just.for.you.

Would it be anyone else but you he would be greatly displeased at being observed like that, but he wants you confused and drooling over him.

And you are doing so great right now!

You wail in your mind. Dear Maker he noticed you checking him out!

“I was just observing your technique.” You reply in a heartbeat, “It is quite different than mine and I might experiment with it once I can resume training.”

Nice save, he will give you that. “I can teach you all of my techniques if you wish.” He proposes politely, “It will take several hours but we are alone here, we will not be disturbed.” He lets his Chiss accent peak through, rolling his ‘r’ like a purring feline, like a promise, sounding exotic and lyrical.

You swallow your bite once again, nodding weakly as you desperatly tries to rationalize this entire situation. He doesn’t miss how your thighs muscles clench and unclench repeatedly, how your core shines brighter in his eyes now that all your warm blood is flooding to your southern muscles... He cannot help but lick his lips a that detail.

He lifts his weights with ease. He feels powerful under your gaze, pure and raw strenght running in his veins and mucles as you observe him. Is it childish of him? Most certainly. But he cannot help it. You are the anchor in his life, your mood dictates his entire course of actions, no wonder an admirative glance from you would boost his power and feed his ego. “Do not deprive yourself from looking, you will learn a great deal of my techiques by observation alone.” He nonchalantly invites.

“Okay...” You reply weakly, at war with yourself and your morality. Even if he gave you his consent to observe him it doesn’t sit well with you. You cannot help but cheking him out instead of platonically detailing his methods as you pretended.

He breathes deeply and longly between each movement and you cannot help yourself but wondering if he would sound like that in bed... Stop that immediately!

He knows very well what he is doing. He knows the of turmoil raging inside of you. Serves you right! This is what you get for bringing him to his knees every single day. “Focus on my breathing, respiration is an integral part of training.” He teases you when he sees you closing your eyes to not see him anymore. You shudder at his sounds, as they invade your ears and mind with dirty thoughts.

The heat signals of your face and sex are through the roof just as he hoped and planned. Good.

He finishes his training session as you ostensibly tries to look away, but he is not quite done with you yet. He wants to keep toying with you a bit more. You let out a breath of relief when you realizes he stopped. Now he is going to put back his shirt on and go take a shower and leave you alone to calm down! What a relief! Phew!

But as you blink you see him approaching you. He leans forward you, getting dangerously close.” Do not move Ch’acah.” He murmures.

Is he... fixing your lips?!

Before you can do or say anything, his hand come cupping your boiling hot cheek and his thumb very gently brushes your lips, pulling them slightly appart. You cannot help the gasp escaping you. “You have cream on your lips.” He simply indicates just above a whisper. He takes out his thumb now full of cream and licks it thouroughly without breaking eyes contact with you.

You are so shocked you cannot move or blink to save your life. He lets out his thumb out of his mouth with a sounding pop and a smile. “Very sweet and tasty.” He grins lightly.

You are hit by lightning and jumps on your two feet in a hurry. He looks at you with a raising brow, waiting for an explanation. “It was delicious, thank you very much! Now I think I need a nap!” You precipitadly announce, flushing terribly. “Allow me to escort you to bed.” He straightnes his back, towering over you with his height. “No, no,no,no!” you immediately stop him, “I’ll go by myself!” and you start jumping away in the most inelegant way he ever saw. You can’t have him carrying you to bed after such a spectacle or you will sponteanously combust!

He chuckles under his breath, satisfied with himself. At least until he hears a loud thud and realizes he was indeed right : you fell face first in the dirt.

“Ch’acah! Are you alright?” He is at your side immediately, kneeling down to help you. What a stupid idea to jump around with a leg and an arm in a cast! He makes you roll on your back and hears your laugh.

“I am so clusmy sometimes!” You laugh, more scared than hurt. He releases his breath, relieved. “Let me carry you. He decides, “Just help me on my feet an I am good to go!” You argue with an chuckle. He stares at you coldly, his grip on your shoulder tightening.

The message his clear.

“Alright, Grand Admiral...” You submit, your laugh dying down and your gaze low. “That is better.” he closes the matter. He scoops your bruised body and lift you without any difficulties, your head is rigth on his large, muscular pec and his musk invades your nose instantaneously making you squirm embarassed in his arms. He carries you easily to the bedroom and very gently lays you down the matress, “I will take a thorough look at your bruises during the bath.” he announces his sentence.

Oh no...

“It’s alright! I didn’t even hurt my head!” You try to get out of this with a light chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere. But he looks as dead serious as ever, pretending to modestly pulling on the little dress he chose for you to falsely cover your thighs. “Permit me to doubt your judgement, the groan you made when you hit the floor was really telling. Do not worry, I will dress any wound I will find.”, “I swear it’s fine! I don’t feel any pain or-”

He suddenly spins his head towards yours, bringing it dangerously close and seizing your chin in his fist, red shiny eyes fixated on yours making you shut up instantly in surprise and fear. “Will you ever stop making things difficult?” He demands with an icy cold tone, “I know what I am doing. The less difficult you are the quicker you will mend.” His eyes are dark, shooting you with his red glare. You can only gulp.

“I am sorry... Sir.” He looks at you black for several more seconds before letting his carefully crafted expression melt into a false sympathetic smile, “I am sorry Ch’acah. But I take your healing journey seriously, I feel partly responsible for what happened to you. Just let me help you in return, alright?” he intentionaly softens his tone to ease your nerves. “Alright, sir...” you abdicate.

“Please” he pulls the cover over your body to tuck you in good, “We are friend, (Y/n). Call me Ch’acah.” he presses. “Okay... Ch’acah.” you whispers on eggshells.

“Good girl.” He leans forward to very gently kiss your forehead, brushing his lips like butterflies on your skin. You wince at the petname, remembering that Chiss are more liberal with them than humans according to Thrawn’s words. Once again you get a whiff of his masculine musk, making your head spin again and your core contract demanding sweet attention. “I will take a shower. Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

You grasp his wrist to hold him back as he raise back to head to the shower. “Well, I know I already asked and I insisted before but... Could you give me back a comlink?” You ask.

He interiorly sighs. He managed until now to shut down your demand for a comlink, but as more time pass, the more legitimate your demand gets. To make you wait he lended you a datapad, but making sure you couldn’t communicate with anybody with it. “Why would you want a comlink?” He asks innocently like he doesn’t understand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “To speak with people, obviously! I want to speak to my family, to Karyn too. It gets lonely here when you are on the bridge.” I also need to keep myslef inform on the current mission of the Chiamera.” You argue.

“Comlinks are forbidden during remission.” He counters, “You should take this as an opportunity to meditate and recenter your focus on your discipline. A comlink would only distract you.” You frown, wrinkling your nose “I am not a child alright? I can have discipline and a comlink at the same time!”

He shakes his head with a sorry expression, “The Imperial protocols are clear : no comlink during remission.” You groan and let yourself fall on the pillow, frustrated, “Captain Faro is terribly busy at the moment.” He gently explained, “She volunteered to take on your workload while you are healing, she has very little time for a friendly chat. But I can greet her on your behalf, she would be relieved to hear you feel better.” He diplomatically proposes. Which is a complete lie of course, Faro heard about your death from himself, something she is still brooding over.

“And my familly? Did anyone warned them I was hurt? That I am better now?” you insist. “We do not signify families about every single wound an enlisted suffers Ch’acach, you know it.” He recalls you with just enough condescension in the the tone to still be subtle. You sigh, “This was not a simple wound, they have the right to know!”, “You will heal and walk out of it like it was nothing, why do you want them to worry? To them you are striving right now.”, “Am I striving to you?” You clap back, more and more annoyed. He slightly bows his head to you, “I mispoke, my apologies. My point is ; you will soon heal completely, there is no use to worrying them now. But I can transmit them a message from you if you wish.”

You exhale through your nose, “Forget it. You are right, no need to warn them now. I will speak with them during my leave.” He gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “You need rest, Ch’acah. Sleep soundly, I will remain in the adjacent room if you need anything.” You nod and he enters the bathroom. You roll to the side when you hear the water running, your mind in ebullition.

The entire bedroom smells like Thrawn and his delicious musk... Making your head spin dangerously. When you close your eyes to actually try to sleep like you pretended you will the vision of his mighty body imposes itself to you, making you shudder in shame.

How dare you do that to your friend? Sexualising him like that! He saw you naked everyday (to your horror) since you are in his suite but he never was troubled by it. As he said to you he appears completely desensitized to naked bodies.

You sigh, trying to get some sleep but the idea of Thrawn’s naked body next door is setting you ablaze, to your dismay. You wail, remembering that he will bath you once again and sleep in the same bed as you because you are so goddamn cold every night despite him checking the temperature each evening.

Nothing will get spared to you in this trial...

Far away from your confusion and guilt, Thrawn is enjoying his shower, imagining back your weight in his arms, the plump of your exposed thighs when you fell, the thinness of your human skin, the smoothness and infinite softness of it... He wanted to lick you so badly, every crook and crannies of your fragile body. A wretched smiles come stretches his lips. You would slap him across the face if he ever qualified you as fragile to your face

And he would surely adore that...

He sighs, letting hot water rolling on his thick Chiss skin. He wants you to dig your nails deep into his flesh so badly! To claw his back entirely, he wants to wear the scars of your passion in his flesh. He caresses his lips, remembering the plumpness of your own when he brushed them with his thumb. You were so surprised by his action you said absolutely nothing, letting him do as he pleased.

He feels fire igniting in his sex as he remembers your heavy gaze checking him out. You tried to be subtle about it, but nothing escapes him. Ever. He lets his hand brushing his pecs to slowly going down his abs, feeling the powerful muscles rolling under his blue skin, retracing the path of your gaze on his body. He lightly chuckles as he saw your flushing cheek getting worse as you couldn’t help yourself but gaze longingly at him. His hand reaches his groin and he takes it firmly in his palm, gently playing with his tip, toying with himself.

He always hated the way his past relationships complimented him on his physic, he remembers how he used to sleep with them in his clothes to not expose himself to their undeserving gazes.

Now that he knows true passion for you he came to the realisation he never was truly in love with anyone else before, that none really catched his eyes, it was more of a way for him to get relief without real, deep sentiments from his part. He admits, now looking back, that the feeling of dirtiness he felt after every night with his former partners was not ‘normal’. That he just convinced himself he had to go throught that to not appear more... Out of place that he always has been.

He is also naturally curious and wanted to understand, to try for himself, see what the fuss was about “couples” and “relationship” and “sex”. How disappointed he was, was that all? That was the things getting people crazy about? He remembers having to force himself to go to bed with his ‘lovers’ to get them off his back and being at peace, or they started to complain they were “neglected”. But he couldn’t help it, the act and the sentiments were just so utterly uninteresting and repulsive to him. He did derive pleasure from sex, but it definitely lacked something to truly be worth anything in his eyes. And even though he definitively appreciated the companionship and admiration his past lovers gave him, he now knows it wasn’t love on his part and he hated when they started to get “too” attached, too lovey dovey with him, it just got under his skin and when he was in their arms the only thing he could think about was the moment they would let go. So after several terribly unfruitful attempts he just threw everything to the bin and pursued his career and mission without a single look back. And he thrived, free of this burden.

Until he met you.

When he started to get interested in you everything became clear, obvious, evident... They simply weren’t you, his darling, his other half, his intended, his soulmate. He had to cross the entire chaos to finally meet you and understand what “love” truly meant but it was definitely worth it.

With you he wants to try everything! Every fancies, every kinks, every dates, every whims! Absolutely everything! He knows you would never disappoint him.

He sniffs in disdain thinking back at his now dead Captain, he spent a full hour scrubbing his entire body to wash her off him after she imposed herself on him! It was just so disgusting...

He deeply inhales. She is dead now, and she had it coming. He should focus on you, laying next door, so close but also so far away at the same time...

He gasps, desperantly wanting to feel your smaller hand around his girth. Will you ogle his cock with hunger like you just did his chest or recoil in fear of his size? Will you drool at the idea of having it in your mouth or panick at the possibility of it entering your little pussy? Will you cry of pleasure or pain when he will take you for the first time? Either way he will gladly lick your tears away, whispering sweet nothing in your ears to ease the tension and help you relax.

He is so much more taller and larger than the average human and Chiss man, you will absolutely strangle his lenght in your tight little pussy no matter the time he takes to prepare you. What will you prefer as roleplay to get you nice and wet? He really hopes you will let him eat you out! He craves it so badly he sometimes wonders where he find the will to not jump on you right here and there...

He closes his eyes as he starts fisting his cock, imagining your soft hand instead of his own. What kind of pace would you set? Will you play with his tip first or getting into it right away? Will you squeeze his lenght tight here and there or gently caressing it like a precious thing? Will you gently kiss his cheek and lips while giving him a handjob or will you avert your gaze and hide your face in the crook of his neck?

So many delicious possibilities, so many different ravishing scenarios...

He greets his teeth as he accelerates his back and forth movement of his hand, chasing his pleasure. He doesn’t have your scrupules and avidly masturbates at the simple thought of you. He doesn’t even need a lecherous vision, sometime just painting your gorgeous eyes in his mind gets him hot and bothered, carrying him to completion with ease.

But nothing gets him going as the thought of him getting handcuffed to the bed and you riding him as you wish, imposing him your own pace and your own desires. He wants your hand squeezing his throat until he looses consciousness or slapping him across the face. He wants you to dominate him entirely, looking down at him in all your glory... Is that too much to ask? He wants you to gag him, to chain him up, to degradate him until he is just a puddle of mess and completely on edge.

He never accepted his former lovers to take the lead. They never deserved to see that vulnerable part of him, he never wanted to reveal it to any of them.

But you...

For you he will relinquish all his powers and kneel before you to kiss your feet!

He gasps as the pleasure courses though his entire body, fisting his cock harshly. He lets silent pleas escaping his lips, calling your name in a mute prayer as he agressively caress his dick. He takes support on the wet wall with one hand, the steam invaded the entire bathroom making it almost impossible to breath but he keeps going, panting with desire. He greets his teeth, imagining you naked in his Grand Admiral jacket, seating proudly on his command chair on the bridge, allowing him to lick your glorious little pussy in front of the entire crew. He rolls his hand in a fist and bites down his knuckle to silence himself. He wants you to force his face against your sex, suffocating him entirely but he would work so well on you, he will docilely obey your every commands. He envisions himself rising his gaze to met yours, full of disdain and contempt for him...

He shudders, like hit by lightnings and comes at that vision. He comes all over his large hand, spilling his seed in the stall as he gasps, breathless.

If only it was your hand... If only it was inside your sweet pussy...

He lingers on that last thought...’If only it was inside your sweet pussy?’

He observes his seed smeared across his palm, absolutely fascinated like it was the first time he saw it. Yes... Why not after all? Why not inside your sweet little pussy? What if... You became pregnant? Round with his baby... He feels his breath catching in his throat, he likes that thought.

He likes it A LOT.

He envisions with new plump curves adorning your gorgeous body, your belly heavy with a baby. HIS baby. He imagines you walking around his suite with your proeminent belly, asking him for help because it gets in your way. He will need to satisfy every one of your needs and satisfy you throroughly to ensure a healthy baby!

He can do that! Bend over backwards to please you and your babies, no questions asked! He shivers in anticipation at that simple thought.

He realizes that this idea will not leave him anymore, no matter what he will do.

He brings his hand to his lips and he gives a little lick at his palm, tasting his semen.

Salty.

Would it be to your taste? Would it be compatible with your organism? Are Chiss and humans compatible?

Well, he has only one way to know it, doesn’t he?

He takes back his breath, letting the water washing away his seed and finishes to clean himself. He slicks his hair back perfectly in front of the mirror, like absolutely nothing happened and takes out your stolen toothbrush of its secret spot to brush his teeth with it, savoring your taste in his mouth.

As he exit the steaming bathroom he discovers you napping. You did end up going to sleep after all. He approaches silently, looming over your smaller form, his shining red gaze like a predator... He leans forward, devored by curiosity.

Do you still have a scar on your neck?

He pushes your hair out of the way to reveal your fragile neck to his vision, he lets the tip of his fingers traveling on your skin until he locates the thin scar let by the blade he stole from you. He gently caresses it, the taste of your blood invading his mouth once again. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and give a long, sloppy lick at your scar making you squirm and moan in your sleep.

He caresses your cheek with his knuckles tenderly. Oh how much he loves you... Sometimes he feels like he gone absolutely crazy.

And maybe he did...

He gently kisses your cheek and leaves you to sleep undisturbed. He has your new drawing to study and dissect, he will have the pleasure to bathe you later down the day...

@Bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbarstakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#yandere au #thrawn x you #thrawn x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'#mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn smut #fanfic #vibratingskull

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