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feirceangel · 2 months

Note

Okay so you’ve written protective/possessive Feyd—what about protective Paul seeing his wife badly hurt or narrowly escaping an attack? I live for the “who did this to you” trope, got me weak at the knees 🥹

I sorta missed the whole wife part, whoops! But I hope you still like it!!

Imagine | Beloved (Paul Atreides)

Word Count: 1,820

Warnings: reader is harassed, I invented an OC to be the antagonist, protective! Paul, hurt/comfort

The halls of Castle Caladan are cold tonight.

Goosebumps are already forming on your arms as you walk through the dark.

Perhaps going for a late night stroll wasn't the best idea, but you just couldn't sleep tonight.

So you stroll instead, peering out of the windows to observe the rain clouds forming.

Castle Caladan has been your home for ages, even though you are not an Atreides. You've lived alongside House Caladan, having come from one of the lesser houses in an attempt to give you a better standing in society.

You're not angry about it.

In fact, you're grateful to live on this oceanic planet. And, you're happy to be alongside your best friend, Paul Atreides.

There weren't any others your age in Castle Caladan, so naturally you sought each other out early on.

Being friends came easily.

Paul has always been sweet, adventurous, friendly - and you are much the same.

Of course, you both had different teachings and priorities, but you always found each other whenever possible.

There was no greater joy than racing through the castle and playing near the waves alongside the boy with dark hair.

And now you're both older.

Life has intruded upon those times of peaceful play and brought forth more schoolings and politics that the young aren't susceptible to.

Although he has a higher standing in society, Paul always manages to remember you, make time for you. He vowed to never abandon you.

And you believe him.

But the subtle glares that Lady Jessica sends your way are not easy to ignore, nor are the signs that others in the castle are uncomfortable with the situation.

You try not to dwell on those things. Because the only thing that matters is being there for Paul. He deserves to have a friend that isn't a mentor or a parental figure.

As you walk though the sleeping palace, your find your mind troubled. Maybe that's why you can't sleep tonight.

Footsteps silent on the stone floor, you arrive before Paul's chambers. You hadn't realized you were walking here. Unconsciously, you sought him out in your time of uncertainty.

Resting your palm on the door, you close your eyes and sigh. You wouldn't disturb him at this hour- you know how bad it would look.

Before you can continue on your way, a voice calls out from the shadows.

"What are you doing here at this hour?"

It's a male's voice, one that you wish was unfamiliar.

"I didn't realize I couldn't roam as I please, Aric," you reply comply to the guard who walks closer.

His grin is wolffish, "I didn't realize you were stupid enough to come to him after dark."

"I was not going to disturb him."

"Oh no, I imagine he'd be excited to see you at this late hour."

"I don't like what you're insinuating," you start to walk away, hearing him continue after you.

He is right beside you, “I meant no insult, I assure you.”

“Your assurances are as empty as your head,” you retort, not even giving him a glance.

You’ve never liked Aric, so you see no reason to be civil with him. He’s always been an ass to you, finding any reason to make your life a bit more miserable.

“That was uncalled for,” he growls, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

You fix him with an unimpressed stare.

“What do you want, Aric? It seems like you’re always following me,” you say calmly as he releases you.

He regains his composure, “I want you.”

You blink at him.

“I’m serious, I want you to stop fawning over Paul and turn to me instead,” his whisper is harsh and grating to your ears. “Be my wife. You’re of age now and I know you have no other offers.”

You can’t help but scoff. Stepping back from him, you cross your arms, “I do not fawn over Paul, and I am certainly not fond of you. I will do is both a favour and pretend you never asked.”

Rage lights up his features, his hand forming a fist at his side.

“I could give you everything you could ask for.”

“And you would take everything from me in the meantime. I know you, Aric. You are not kind,” you hiss, stepping back while he steps forward.

“Kindness gets you nowhere in this life.”

You shake your head, “Your actions in this life determine the outcome. And so far your actions are untoward. Cornering me at this time of night?”

“Paul will never marry you, you know,” he changes tactics.

You roll your eyes, “Admit defeat, Aric. I will never be yours.”

Suddenly, he is right in your face, sneering down at you, “I can take what I want. Like you said, it’s late, no one is here.”

“I will not let you.”

He laughs, grabbing your arm in a bruising grip once again. He wrenches you forward but you twist out of his grip and shove him into the wall.

He groans and recovers quickly, shoving you violently. You hit a corner and collapse on the ground, your arm dripping crimson.

Infuriated, you stand and glare at the smug bastard.

“Leave now,” you command him, using the Voice. You’re not a master at it, by any means, but you’re trained enough to get this brute to back down.

He leaves without a word, and you realize that you should have done that right away.

You grasp your arm and walk back to your chambers. Luckily, the wound isn’t deep and you’re finally able to sleep.

~~~

The next day commences as normal.

That is, until Paul appears next to you as you walk down the beach.

“I was looking for you,” he grins as he approaches.

His smile could brighten the darkest corner of space. His eyes are piercing and perceptive, you fear you could drown in their depths.

You smile back at him, “You found me.”

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, has everything been alright?”

That’s Paul, always so considerate of you and your wellbeing. The reminder of his care brings a softer smile to your face.

“I’m fine, just been tired lately.”

“Why?”

“Sleep’s been evading me,” you chuckle, bending to pick up a stone near your feet. “I’ll catch it eventually.”

A sudden tension fills the air, bringing you upright immediately. You look at Paul and see his gaze fixed on your bandaged arm.

“What happened?” He asks, concern dripping from his words like rain.

You move your arm from his direct view, “Nothing, it was an accident.”

His eyes flicker up to yours.

“You’re lying.”

You curse his Bene Gesserit training which makes it so easy for him to read you.

“I told you it’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would’ve already launched into how it happened,” he points out. “Like that time you scraped your knee when you tripped down the stairs.”

You groan at the reminder, “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”

“Tell me what happened,” he reaches out to gently take your arm in his hands.

He examines the clean bandage before beginning to unwrap it. You shake your head but his eyes are pleading.

“Please.”

You sigh, unable to resist. He doesn’t even need to use the Voice on you, he controls you with his words, his eyes, his hands. You would give him everything if he simply asked for it.

He’d do the same for you.

“It was Aric,” you say, as Paul stares at the small cut on your bruised arm. “He got angry that I would never marry him in a million years.”

Paul’s expression goes dark, any mirth he might have had leaving him in an instant.

“Aric asked you to wed him?”

You nod.

“Then he did this?”

“Pushed me into the wall,” you confess. “I had ti use the Voice to get him to leave.”

You watch as Paul tenderly presses his lips to your arm, the contact warm and sweet.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You can’t be with me all the time, silly.”

He shakes his dark hair, “I promise, he won’t do this to you ever again.”

“How-“

Paul turns in a flurry, stalking back towards the castle. You race after him, suddenly unsure.

You knew you shouldn’t have told him what happened. This isn’t the Paul you know, this is someone else.

“Paul!” You shout as you run after him.

He’s too fast, storming to where Aric stands in the hall. Before Aric even notices his presence, Paul has punched him clear across the face.

Stunned, Aric stumbles back with a curse.

Paul doesn’t give him time to recover, kneeing him in the stomach so that he bends over in pain. You watch as Paul kicks him down to the ground, standing over him with a furious expression.

“I heard what you did last night, Aric.”

Aric groans in response.

Paul continues, “I know you tried to harm my beloved, tried to belittle her. Did you think you wouldn’t be punished?”

“Paul, I think he’s learnt his lesson,” you try to calm him.

“No, no he hasn’t.”

Paul watches as Aric rises to his feet, mouth bloodied.

“I should’ve known that whore would snitch.”

You wince, not at the intended insult, but at the fury blazing in Paul’s eyes. This isn’t going to end well.

“Stop talking,” Paul uses the Voice, before punching him once again.

“Get on your knees.”

You watch as Aric drops to the floor.

“Beg for her forgiveness and I’ll let you walk away,” Paul says casually. “If you don’t, I think you know what’ll happen.”

Watching with a flicker of amusement, you incline your head, “Go on.”

Aric grits his teeth, “I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t good enough,” Paul seethes, “Do it better!”

Aric slams his head on the floor, “Please, please, don’t let him kill me. I won’t ever speak to you again!”

“I know you won’t,” you nod at Paul. “I think all is well now.”

“Get up Aric,” Paul commands. “I don’t want to see your face again, you hear me?”

Aric nods and retreats with a burning face.

You turn to Paul, crossing your arms, “Beloved, huh?”

He rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Paul, hearing you call me that fills my heart to the brim. Your my beloved as well, you know.”

Paul bridges the space between you, clasping the back of your head and pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t think I could ever be without you. Even the thought of someone trying to take you from me, turn you against me…”

“Don’t worry, Paul,” you ghost your lips across his. “That will never happen, not as long as I have breath in my lungs.”

He wraps his arms around you, “I’ll cherish you always, protect you always.”

“I know.”

[A/n - It’s my first time writing Paul so I hope I did ok!]

#female reader #imagine #dune x reader #dune part two #dune #x reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides one shot #paul atreides x you #hurt/comfort

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attapullman · 3 months

Text

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head.

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?"

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester.

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed.

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg.

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse.

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily.

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester.

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!”

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch.

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house.

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare?

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face.

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats.

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest.

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe.

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?”

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them.

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself.

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher.

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder.

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.”

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you.

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent.

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good.

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind.

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right.

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands.

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses.

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out.

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light.

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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ja3honey · 5 months

Text

♡ 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞 𝐀 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your professors just want to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational...

『Word count』 : 2.3k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut.

Pairing: Professor!Yunho/Mingi x Student!Reader

[Warnings] : Age gape (reader is in her 20s while Yunho and Mingi are in their late 30s). Swearing. Dry humping. Oral. Deep throating. Pet names. Semi-public sex. Fingering. Dirty talk. Slight power play. Heavy cum play, saliva and fluids cause I lost control. IM SORRY. Filming, mention of taking photos. Reader is curvy and beautiful. Unprotected sex. Piv. Yunho and Mingi are huge!! Beefy men! Hehe. Some mxm and hints of prior seggy times with one another. Whoops what can I say I’m a yungi supporter. Also these two like to use terms that could consider the reader to be a “toy” of sorts. Which she is not and the boys do like her more than that I just got carried away like I normally do when I write things at 2 in the fucking morning. Oops.

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One

You gasped loudly, Yunho’s large hands slamming you onto the desk. Mingi had lifted you up off your chair, ripping your panties down while pulling up your skirt. It all happened so fast. Legs spread, Yunho's hot clothed crotch humping against your aching core. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, vaguely hearing both men whisper and chuckle. You felt so exposed under their gaze even though you were mostly clothed. Mingi’s deep chuckle caught your attention, making you shiver. “Look at that. She’s leaking down her thighs.” Mingi squatted down beside you, snaking his hand along your plump flesh. Picking up some of your juices that had spilled down towards your ankle. You had practically come just from them throwing you around like a rag doll. Yunho’s hips snapped against you, letting you feel his growing erection. He let out a groan, feeling your slick seep onto him.

“Fuck I might just nut humping this desperate cunt.” Yunho gulped, his hands digging deep into the skin on your hips, creating crescent shapes from his nails. Your ears were ringing, as you felt so overwhelmed and they hadn't even touched you where you needed them yet.

“Min..Yuyu..” You gasped, suddenly hearing a loud clank of a belt buckle. A hand gripped your chin, letting your wide eyes see Mingi’s cock leaking pre-cum on his exposed tummy while he held the hem of his shirt up.

“Be a good baby and open up.” he let go of your chin, moving to pump his dick, tapping his red tip against your sealed lips. You opened up obeying every word both men gave. Flattening your tongue, you let Mingi's large girth slide into your wet, warm mouth. “Fuck that’s it, baby. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your jaw went slack, stinging slightly as you tried not to gag. Mingi’s moans quickly filled the room, and he knew if they continued, they would only get louder. So he bit down on the fabric of his shirt he had been tightly gripped in his hand. You could feel him in your throat as he kept his thrusts slow and steady.

“Fuck look. She's getting excited just from sucking your cock Min.” Yunho had knelt down, coming face to face with your cunt. His mouth watered, studying the way you clenched around nothing every time Mingi thrusted into you. “Okay Tiny, for your first official lesson, let's see how quickly you squirt on my face.”

You whimpered around Mingi’s cock feeling Yunho’s tongue lap a long, slow strip of your cum, sucking on your lower lips before pulling away with a pop. His mouth was hot and abusive, his fingers slipping in next to his tongue. They were pumping at a pace that was making your lower tummy burn. Your jaw was slack, tempting to lock or close tightly around Mingi. He seemed to notice picking up his pace in order to release deep down your throat. “Fuck Sugar I think I’m gonna bust down this pretty throat of yours. Is that okay? I want to empty myself in your mouth.”

You whimper around Mingi’s cock from his filthy words. Your fingers squeezing his thighs, a silent way for you to say ‘yes, please, do as you please’. and so he obeyed, snapping his hips against you, spilling ropes of cum down your throat. You tried to swallow it all but it was like his seed was endless, and when he finally stopped and slid out of you, his fingers gazed over your chin seeing you trying your best to gulp down the rest of the white cream. “Awe, was it too much sugar?”

Your eyes were watering as you were now contemplating just spitting it out. But you were in a classroom, and you wanted to not make too much of a mess. Mingi sensed your panic, kneeling down besides the desk you were still leaning against. He brought your face to his, clicking his tongue. “well come here, Sugar. Let me help.” His dark smirk made your head spin. “Sharing is caring.”

His lips latched onto yours, letting his tongue slip into your half-full mouth. His seed spilled into his mouth, letting himself taste the saltiness of his come. He swallows quickly, making you cry out against his hot, wet muscle. Meanwhile, Yunho hadn't stopped his assault on your aching pussy pumping to fingers deep inside you tipping you over the edge. Your climax was unlike anything you’ve felt before in your life. Your eyes were rolled back and your whole body tensed. You were on fire. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.”

“Hmm.” Yunho chuckles against your cunt. “You got a potty mouth baby.” you had the temptation to bite back at him suddenly, knowing all they had been doing for the past twenty minutes was swear and spill out filth. But the gushing liquid flowing down your legs distracted you, moaning instead, feeling your knees buckle.

“Look at that.” Mingi had stepped back to stand behind you, taking in the view of your slumped against. Laying on top of the deck, your legs almost practically dangling limp and white cream mixing with clear liquid pouring down onto the floor below you. Yunho had stood up also, standing with his hands on his hips, looking smug of himself. “Maybe we should take a picture. Document the first time we got our girl off, huh?”

Mingi and Yunho were mumbling to one another as if you were just lying on a school table fucked out of your mind in front of them. Suddenly you hear a click of a camera and your mind, as if a miracle, unfogs. Using your shaking arms you prop yourself on your elbows, wiggling your ass slightly while trying to look over your shoulder. “Fuck stay still princess.”

You tried to obey, noticing Yunho’s flash on his phone. You’ve never been in such a dirty position, let alone filmed. You wanted to come just at the sheer thought these two very beefy men were so obsessed with what you looked like they needed to take photos for safekeeping. It made you have a sense of powerlessness. Strangely. “Mingi, Yunho. Someone please…touch me.”

You couldn’t explain where this newfound confidence came from, but your words made both males instantly by you. Yunho helped you up, leaning your chest against his while Mingi stood behind you, giving feathering kisses along your neck and covered shoulder blade. “We are here tiny. You want us to touch you. Fuck you right here in this classroom.”

“Yes please,” you answered so sweetly, Yunho swore he could have melted then and there. Mingi already had his slacks down, quickly following with his boxers. He grasps your hips, lifting your shirt up slightly so he can get a good view of your ass. His large hand almost covered your entire plump cheek, loving the way your body curves roll and fold beautifully. Like fresh bread dough, ready for Mingi to squeeze.

“Fuck, you gonna have to take us raw.” Mingi motioned, realizing he didn’t have condoms with him and He knew Yunho was definitely not carrying. “You okay with that Sugar?”

“Yes, please, sir.” The plea fell from your tongue before you could register what you had said. The pet name sent Mingi’s cock twitching. His fingers dug more into your hips, threatening to draw blood from the sheer tightness of his grip. His tip slid along your folds, picking up some of your slick, Yunho’s eyes were glued to where his best friend was almost connected to you. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.

“Fuck Baby, what did I say about calling us sir or Mr…” Yunho’s voice was deep, deeper than normal. With a grumble hidden beneath. You whimper out a simple ‘sorry’ feeling a weird form of guilt, feeling bad for making your boys upset… your boys. That’s it. That’s what your mind thought of them as. But that’s if they’ll have you more than just today. Your eyes opened, looking straight at Yun. Your brow was scrunched as you reached for him. He stepped closer, his left hand gripping the back of your neck so you were at eye level with him. “If you keep calling us sir. I can’t promise what I might do to you.”

“S...Sir. Please.” You gasp, suddenly feeling Mingi sink deep inside your cunt. Yunho growls, pulling his cock out of his slacks, pushing you down so you were bent on an angle, your ass flushed against Mingi's pelvis and Yunho’s angry tip pressed firmly to your mouth. Pre-cum smeared on your tongue as you lapped along his shaft before he pushed inside your warm mouth.

"Fuck you feel amazing doll." Yunho threw his head back in a groan. His fingers laced in your messy hair, tightly guiding you along his cock. Mingi, on the other hand, had his nails dug into your plump flesh, thrusting at a speed that left no room for oxygen. He didn't let you get used to his size, but the burn made your tummy rumble. He stretched you out perfectly, making your eyes roll back and saliva pool in your mouth, which Inevitably spilled out down Yunho's cock, coating his balls.

"Shit, Sugar. Why didn't we do this sooner? Your pussy is so fucking tight. And warm. Feels like heaven." Mingi's rambles cause you to clench around him, making his hips stutter a bit. Yunho’s cock still deep down your throat you mumble around him, making the vibrations cause Yunho to still himself, fearing he might come then and there.

“Come one, baby, why don’t you come for Mingi, hey? So we empty out loads in you.” You knew deep down Yunho’s desperate words were cause he was close, and given his thrusts were shallow and no longer timed. You were aware he didn’t have along. So you just moaned in response, wiggling your hips against Mingi in a way to tell him to hurry up. Mingi’s dark chuckle went straight to your core, making your high draw closer. You no longer felt the shyness from before but a newfound feeling brewing in your gut. One that made you well away that these two very large men were wrapped around your little finger. You let one hand go from Yunho’s thigh, bringing it down so you could rub your clit harshly, quickly finding a rhythm towards your release.

“Fuck I’m coming.” Mingi crossed his hands, placing them on opposite hip dips, slamming his cock just right into your soaked cunt, emptying his seed deep inside you. This made you cum, clenching tightly around him, milking him of his cum. Yunho on the other hand, with his eyes watching intensely at how his cock disappeared then reappeared from your mouth, he grabbed your hair into a messy ponytail, stilling his thrusts to come inside your slacked mouth. You tried you best to swallow but like Mingi, it was like his white creamy liquid was endless. So when he pulled out of you, he was quick to pull you up by your hair, smashing his lips against your own. His tongue slipped inside, taking his cum into his own mouth and swallowing. You have never known a man to taste himself let alone swallow his own load. God, it made you hornier than those female students fawning over these two super solider like men in front of you now.

“Come on, Yuyu. Come take a spin.” You could hear Mingi’s deep voice chuckling behind you. You pulled away from Yunho seeing Mingi swiftly move to stand beside the larger man. He grabbed Yun’s cock, tugging it a bit with a smirk plastered on his face. “You still have one more, why don’t you empty it into our sweet girl here.”

Mingi’s lips grazed Yunho's sweaty neck, licking along the other male's jugular before giving it a little bite. These two have definitely played this game before with one another. But whether or not it has been with another person involved is a different story. But you shook off any negative thoughts when you reminded yourself about what Mingi had called you. Our girl. God, these men will be the death of you. Yunho didn’t have time to say anything as you quickly stood up, grabbing his shoulders tightly, much to your poor imbalance. His hands, without hesitation, gripped your hips, holding you close against his broad chest. You leaned in and kissed him quickly, desperately, but there was a hint of something more. A stillness, caringness behind his kiss, something that was screaming, more, more, more.

Yunho’s left hand fell from your hip, snaking to grab a handful of your ass cheek, giving it a rough squeeze. His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, his sharp inhale through his nose.

His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, followed by a sharp inhale through his nose. Without breaking the kiss, he walked with you tightly in his grasp before the back of your legs hit the desk softly. You understood instantly what he wanted, removing your hands from his shoulders and then placing them down onto the oak table. You push yourself up with the little strength you have left, letting him shimmy between your spread thighs. he finally pulled away from your lips, so he could look down to where his cock was resting on your soaked tummy, “such a pretty baby. So ready for whatever we want. Are you are good girl darling? Going to be my good girl?”

“Yes, Yuyu. I want to be your good girl. For both of you.” You felt tears welt against the crease of your eyelids. Your nails dig into the wood beneath you. He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride from just how easily you submit to him and Mingi. How willing you are. He wonders what else they could get up to if they were in more of a private setting…

“That’s it, baby. Now, take a deep breath.” Yunho knew he was much bigger than Mingi and even though he had prepped you and Mingi as fucked you senseless only a moment prior. He was still going to be a lot to take in. Girth and length. So you obeyed perfectly, taking in a deep, slow breath as you felt him slip inside you, inch by inch. Your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape, following with a silent scream and brows scrunched. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever felt before. You tilted your head back, letting Yunho dive straight for your jugular, sucking a harsh purple mark on your neck, that would be very visible later. You were going to have to hide that tomorrow, but for now, you basked in the feeling of his teeth, tongue, or lips, as he thrusted at a slow but intense pace. Your body felt like it was on fire like you were a fuse box crackling electricity through water.

Everything was so sensitive.

And you needed more. Reaching up you grabbed Yunho's collar of his messy shirt, bringing his body close. His face nuzzled into your neck, snapping his hips at a pounding pace that quickly made you see stars. You were so close, just needed a little push, and then your eyes wander to a very desperate-looking Mingi with his fully hard cock again once again, pumping it like his life depended on it. His eyes were focused on the way Yunho's hips jackhammered into you, following the same rhythm with his fist. And that sight alone helps you climax, clenching tightly around Yunho’s cock, milking the older man for everything he had.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He mumbled against your neck, biting down hard onto your shoulder as he emptied his seed deep inside your womb. Everything suddenly went still, quiet. Even Mingi had stopped, coming all over his hand from the entertainment had was gifting before him. Yunho's breath was pooling against your shoulder, while your nose nuzzled into his neck feeling his rapid pulse. There was nothing awkward about what had happened. But comfortable. Like you three were always meant to do this. Like all these games of cat and mouse were supposed to end up with you in their arms.

“So uh, another round back at ours?” Mingi’s question just caused you and Yunho both to laugh.

Special Tags : @acetruepunk @i-love-ateez @hwa-sangsbbygrl @therealcuppicake @smileydk @kpop-mixes

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

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Hii sweetie, how are you? Are requests open rn? I'm soooo sorry if they arent and i'm botherig you, but can i make a sugestion please? How would batboys (including bruce if possible) would "react" to missing you while on a mission? And maybe in the end the reenconter? Just an idea❤️

I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to write this and I hope that it’s everything you want and more.

Dick; sits and sulks as he stares at his phone.

I’m joking…or am I?

He’d be mentally counting away the hours before he came back home to you once more. He tries to act professional and keep a level head seeing as how leaders aren’t meant to have room for errors, he’s learnt that the hard way many times. But he can’t help but yearn to be in your arms and fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing that you were close by and above all safe.

He would use this as motivation to get through the long, long night of patrol in hopes of making time take pity on him and go just that little bit faster, just for his selfish convenience. He just so desperately wants to see you and Hayley cuddled up together on your shared bed, or watching a movie together if you were still awake this late at night. You held a piece of his heart without even knowing it.

So when he feels the patrol come to an end, he’s gleefully beating the piss out of the goons he’s come across with a smile across his face. It’s borderline terrifying image that will forever remain burnt into the deepest parts of his teammates memory for a good long while.

The minute Dick came home and you so happened to be waiting for him, he was already scooping you into his arms and holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.

‘I missed you.’ He murmurs.

‘I’m pretty sure that’s my line you’ve just stolen.’ You joked as you ran your hand through his dark hair, relived in seeing him home safe and unharmed.

‘Well it’s my line now because I really did miss you,’ Dick said, tightening his hold on you, ‘you we’re all I thought about tonight and how much I wanted to come home and be where I want to be most, in your arms.’ He adds tired and you couldn’t help but coo softly at him.

‘Aww Dickie bird.’ You began. ‘You sound about ready for some much needed sleep.’

Dick lets out a deep sigh as he practically slumps against you. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Is Hayley in bed?’

‘Yes.’ You answered, rubbing his back soothingly.

‘Her bed or ours?’ Dick asks.

‘Do you even need to ask?’ You reply with a chuckle and from that alone did Dick get his answer.

Jason; he’s a little impatient with having to wait to come back home to you, so much so that it tends to end with him brutalising his adversaries more then usual.

Whoops.

He doesn’t apologise at all.

He was so use to coming home to a empty apartment after patrol that long nights like these never use to bother Jason, as it often meant he had something else to do other then stare up at his ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch up to him. Now that he had you however, all Jason wants to do was come home as soon as possible just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping figure on his -now your- bed.

He’s grown addicted to being at your side no matter what that being apart from you for prolonged periods of time made Jason feel hollow, as though he was missing a vital part of himself somewhere and that vital part was you.

So when he gets home he’s already dropped his helmet off somewhere and kneeling before you as you held his face in your hands and groaning as he presses his face further into your hands.

‘I’ve missed you so much tonight chipmunk.’ He admits.

‘I’ve missed you too jay bird.’ You replied, pressing a kiss to his nose, squealing when he stole a quick peck from your lips as you smacked his bicep shortly after. ‘Someone’s feeling particularly loving tonight.’ You add.

Jason groans as he looks up at you with his pretty, pretty eyes that never fail to take your breath away. The mere image alone of this six foot something man kneeling before you was enough to make you feel like the most powerful being in existence. ‘Is it blasphemy for a man to show his partner how much he’s missed them now?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pressed another kiss to his nose, pulling away enough to see him smile dopily at your kiss.

‘No, but it would be great to be warmed ahead of time before you try to steal another kiss.’ You said and Jason smirks. ‘So you’re telling me there is going to be a next time?’ He says teasingly.

‘Don’t let it go to your head hotshot.’ You reply, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards the bedroom.

‘I think I already have sweetheart.’ Jason says with a smile, happy to be home.

Bruce: keeps tabs on you during patrol whilst also remaining vigilant and dedicated to the task at hand.

Bruce was a master at multitasking.

He would always make sure you were safe and decried whenever he got a couple minutes to breathe on his own. He even has a special alert made for you in the instance where you were in danger walking home.

He even finds himself looking at shops you’ve told him about going to, but never doing so due to scheduling conflicts and making a mental note to take you there as a treat to spoil you rotten.

Bruce had more experience in neglecting his own wants and needs for the betterment of Gotham and everyone living in it. So while he may miss you dearly, he knew that his dedication to bettering Gotham’s crime rate one villain, underground drug syndicate, crime lord at a time outweighed that greatly.

So the moment he comes home to you he smiles softly as he allows you to remove the cowl from his head, gently place it down elsewhere, before moving on to wiping the black makeup clean from his eyes.

Bruce knows he could easily done it himself but much rather prefers it if you were the one to do it instead, as it often allows him to have a moment alone with you. No interruptions nor distractions could make him break his gaze away from yours.

‘You’re doing Gotham a whole lot of good Bruce.’ You tell him as you finished wiping off the last of his eye makeup that he puts on under the cowl. ‘ Not many people would be willing to try to keep a dying city alive. Im so proud of you for doing the unthinkable.’ You add as you press a kiss to his cheek.

‘Someone’s got to shoulder the responsibility of this town and I’m more than willing to shoulder that responsibility everyone else who can’t.’ Bruce replies as he takes your hands in his own, kissing the backs of them as his thumbs caressed each of your knuckles. ‘But coming home to you reminds me I’m not alone in this endeavour and I don’t know how to thank you enough for standing by me.’

You smile. ‘You don’t need to thank me at all, just take care of yourself alright? We don’t want the Dark Knight running on fumes now when he’s just getting started.’

Damian: naturally goes by his father’s example and remains focused on the task at hand.

He was trained for long nights like these but you’ve become somewhat of a problem during them.

Damian had often found himself sat on a rooftop somewhere, looking down at two people enjoying the other’s company, and immeditly starts to imagine that it was him and you instead.

He hates how easily his mind drifted towards you during patrol with his father or his other siblings but he just can’t help it but crave for your presence. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable but ironically he doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should’ve. He’s even found himself wanting to count stars with you at one point during patrol until he got him act together to take down a few goons.

He doesn’t admit this to anyone as he’s already felt embarrassed enough that he didn’t needed to be embarrassed even further by the miscreants he’s made to called his family. For he knew they’d never let him live it down for being so caught up on you, they’d called him everything their small minds can come up with for the sake of teasing their younger brother.

So when he comes back to you, he doesn’t say anything other than hugging you uncharacteristically tight against his chest.

‘Someone’s missed me.’ You joked but when Damian didn’t say anything but tighten his grip on you and huff did you change your tune. ‘Oh you did. If it’s any consolation I missed you too.’ You add as you both stayed there in each others arms.

‘Just…hold me will you…please.’ He said softly as he sunk further into your embraced and he closed his eyes, secretly happy to be back home with you.

‘I’m fine with that.’ You replied as you concede to his wishes, just happy to see him home in one piece.

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

Text

(1) running into you ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: creepy man hits on r, flirting (r and w), mentions to past injury (r), some mommy issues mentioned whoops, the nephew’s name is Tyler (💀)

a/n: not proofread oopsies. DON’T steal/repost my works. anyways enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll come back and edit this later.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

It’s a transition going from spending every minute in the rink to living vicariously through your nephew’s newfound interest in the ice. You’ve been taking him to lessons since his parents, your brother, has had to work every minute to make a decent living.

Seeing an ice rink after two years was strangely nostalgic. Spending every waking hour here until you’d gone and screwed your leg during practice.

You would’ve been better off without your coach at the time, your mom, yelling in your ear to get up. It’s in the past and you’re hoping it stays there.

Your nephew was about young teen, unfortunately a stereotypical teen boy who played sports. He was a good kid, but too confident for his own good and feeling the need to size up other players.

The coach of the team had been running them through drills. They were mainly on how to skate and learning specific techniques for hockey such as stopping quickly. He was picking it up quick, again too confident in his efforts but it did get him somewhere.

“Who’s yours?”

You faced the man beside you, “I’m sorry?”

He pointed, waving his finger around and it clicked for you. You waved him off, saying you were here for your nephew.

“Is he your sister’s? Your brother’s?”

“My brother’s. He’s thirteen.”

“And picking it up now? That’s a bit late.”

You laugh, “what?”

The man shrugs and leans back, “he may not be able to make varsity. I mean look.”

The frustration burned through you, feeling annoyed at his audacity. You begin to grab your stuff and move down the bleachers.

“These are kids, and they can do it as a social pastime. I did figure skating and I made it into the region competitions. I was thirteen.”

The man scoffs, “I’m talking about the young boy here and an actual sport, not twirling on the ice. I mean you didn’t go far if you’re here on a Monday night.”

With a shake of your head, you leave and officially move away to the other set of bleachers, closer to where the players got off the ice. It was surprising how aggressive some parents were with their kids doing a sport. It concerned you how concerned they were with their kid succeeding in a sport they once did.

You had sat near the railing towards the bottom, resting your head on it. There was an attempt made to forget your coursing adrenaline, watching your nephew work on sliding across the ice.

It was futile, especially with the way the man was holding his stare in your direction. Whatever his problem was, you wanted nothing to do with it. Men were weird, especially when they’re under some sort of influence.

The group huddled together in the rink, the words being spoken echoed throughout the room. The only word you understood was when they announced their team chant.

You waved back at your nephew when he skated by the window, mouthing something about, “watching him.” It was practice time, where they’re given ten minutes to skate around and practice what they learned.

He flailed around but he still got up proud, acting as if his stop and falling onto the ground was meant to happen. It was amusing, but entertaining and failed for you to realize the man was walking near you yet again.

“Hey ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought you were quite beautiful.”

You cringe, “being mean is your flirting technique?”

“Usually chicks dig it.”

You nod and look back to your nephew but he’s relentless and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, even stepping closer to you.

“You alright here miss?”

A woman in skates appeared near you two. She was adjusting the heavy coat around her shoulders, moving to take it off with the obvious sweat on around her face and neck.

The man speaks for you, “we’re fine.”

She raises her eyebrow and tosses the coat onto the bleachers, eyes slowly looking to you for confirmation. You move away from the man and it was enough confirmation.

“Hey buddy, she’s not interested. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but a woman twenty years younger than you isn’t the move.”

With a patronizing smile and wave he began to yell at his son to leave. You thanked her, moving to do the same when she stopped you.

“Who’re you here for?”

“Tyler, what’re you here for?”

She looks confused for a moment, making a subtle gesture towards the skates on her feet, “I’m the coach.”

You swear you feel your confidence melt into a puddle. How long have you been taking him to practices and you’ve never cared to greet the coach?

“I’m terrible sorry,” you put your hand out to shake hers, “I should have introduced myself when I had begun to take him to practice. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles and pushes your hand away, “no need. How’re you feeling though, need someone to walk you to your car?”

“That’s quite alright, I believe I’ll be fine.”

Your nephew exits the rink then, coming to sit near you two and untie his skates. He either didn’t notice you two conversing or he didn’t care, because he had come barreling in. You take his helmet off, reminding him to not forget his bag in the locker room.

“You did a great job today, Tyler, how’re you feeling about your stops now?”

“I’m definitely better. I think I’m better than Micah too, he slides into the walls. Man has no clue on how to slide.”

She hums, “then I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”

He waved and begins to walk behind the bleachers towards the locker room, and she looks back to you.

“I could stand at the door and make sure you two get to your car? I can see him standing at the tables looking this way. My word, is he drunk or something?”

You look and find him standing outside by himself and accept her assistance. It wasn’t that you necessarily trusted her, but she was more trustworthy than the other.

She grabs her coat and stuff on the seat, ready to go just as Tyler had ran out from the locker rooms. He smelt terrible and for some reason felt the need to stand where his sweat melted onto your skin.

“Maximoff what drills are we doing tomorrow?”

She looks relaxed, her eyes focused on him and tone kind while it feels your nerves are spiking when you see the man in your peripheral vision. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind anymore, he looked distant while his son finished packing up.

“Okay, I’m heading off. Have a good night you two,” she looks to one more time, and you mouth your thanks. She jerks her car door open, throwing her stuff in and climbing in after.

“I love Maximoff. She’s a great coach, very professional if I could add.”

You shove him into the car, and start driving out of the parking lot. It’s fun to watch someone gain traction in a sport and see how much they enjoy learning the next steps to getting better.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

“I am. Your parents aren’t getting back until later tonight, so I’m staying over tonight. Anything you want to do?”

He doesn’t seem very interested in anything you suggest, wanting to go to bed right after you both have dinner. And it’s understandable.

He had gone to bed four hours before his parents had finally begun to come home, your brother being the first home. He found you on the couch, “hey, how’re you?”

“It’s swell. I got hit on at the rink, but other than that it’s fine. Tyler’s asleep now.”

“You got hit on at the rink?”

“Opened with insults and everything.”

He empties his water bottle, his voice slightly muffled from where he was in the house, “are you okay with continuing to bring him to practice? I feel bad enough as it is. We can’t thank you enough.”

“No it’s fine. It was just sudden. I enjoy being able to see you all often,” you dangle your keys, “I’m going to head back to my apartment, I unfortunately have work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, get home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can all eat dinner this weekend, we’d like to catch up”

“I’d love to. Sleep well, goodnight,” you wave before shutting the door behind you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Tyler,” you say while finishing tying his skates, “I don’t want you to hang around Josh anymore okay? He’s a terrible influence.“

“But he’s the second best. At least he isn’t sliding into the walls.”

“I mean his personally is shit, just focus on learning the fundamentals and talk with the others.”

“Isn’t that a bad word—”

“Just get on the ice.”

He puts his hands up in offense and stumbles into the rink. You wipe your hands on your pants, “I swear—“

“That you do,” she comes beside you.

She sets her bags down beside you, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Your attention follows her fingers, a part of you hating the way she’s tying her skates. The other part got caught judging from the expression on her face.

“Are you judging how I tie my skates?”

You get slightly flustered, apologizing and fearing you’ve made her uncomfortable but all it does is grow the smile that was already there.

“Should be sorry unless you have a valid reason.”

“I figure skated,” you blurt and she looks amused.

“Do you still skate?”

“Not anymore after an injury my junior year.”

She looks earnest in her apology. In a response to not spiral you laugh it off.

“I bet it’s painful to realize you won’t be able to enjoy your passion again, but you’re here supporting him.”

“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s disappointing,” you laugh, “And of course, Tyler loves hockey. Especially when he has a coach like you.”

She leans to grab her coat, “what’s special about me?”

It’s something you’re still learning. That being how you have a knack for being flirty when you aren’t usually meaning to. In this moment though? You don’t mind.

You smile cruelly, “it’s 2:00.”

She checks her watch for confirmation and dramatically steps back onto the ice with a sigh. You feel your heart race from within your chest at the look she gave you after.

It felt like you were being called out. Her attention was on you before and after each practice. You enjoyed familiarizing yourself with your nephew’s coach (by familiarizing you mean flirting). It would make sense to leave everything where it was, but you didn’t want to.

You learned it was more than a simple surface friendship with your nephew’s coach when she slipped her number into your back pocket. And maybe the details on there that she wanted to take you out that Saturday at 8.

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@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @emiliaisdead

@esposadejoyhuerta @shinysuitcloud

@xxsekhmet @casquinhaa @r0manxff

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #hockey coach!wanda

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hyuckiefluff · 10 months

Text

drunk in you | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)

part 2

A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.

"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...

Oh my god, what happened last night?

8 hours earlier…

Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up.

Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you.

Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.

Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.

Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath. But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops.

Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.

"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.

But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.

You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him.

"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.

"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you.

So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him.

He looked hot as fuck.

It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.

"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.

You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.

In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.

Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.

"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.

"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.

The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.

Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.

Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?

Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived.

"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.

Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.

"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.

"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.

"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."

An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.

Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.

"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.

"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.

"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.

You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.

The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.

But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.

"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.

Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."

You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.

"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.

"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.

When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.

"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.

"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.

a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it

also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol

part 2

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct imagines #nct smut #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #nct moodboard #mark lee x you #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream drabbles #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic

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gentlyweeps-world · 3 months

Text

Irregular occurrences

sequel to regular occurrences

SMAU / fic

summary: You managed to balance a relationship with a driver whilst being a Sky Sports interviewer- but you’re old affair isn’t a fan.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of cheating | suggestive tones | toxic Pierre

genre: fluff-ish

notes: I did itttt

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

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charles_leclerc 🤍🤍🤍

youruser 🫶🫶

skysportsf1 ??????

youruser whoops?

scuderiaferrari ??????

user7392 the reactions are killing me 😭😭

user9293 SAME OMG

francisca.cgomes cuties 😘😘

youruser 🤍🤍

francisca.cgomes you’re welcome 🫶

youruser thank you kika 🫶

user632 has anyone noticed that Pierre unfollowed Y/n AND CHARLES??

user632 He hasn’t liked any of her or Charles posts lately 🤨

user3729 I always thought he acted suspicious with Y/n

user0018 Y/n would never do anything with him, her and Kika are friends plus her and Charles are together

user632 still suspicious 🤷‍♀️

landonorris Hey guys…this is a little bit too random

youruser oops?

user7483 how tf is she with Charles

user7483 she’s not even pretty wtf

user7483 she’s such a pick me

user3391 And who’s the one leaving hate comments on Y/n L/n post?

user3391 So stfu and get a life 🫶

lissiemackintosh Congrats baby!!🤍

youruser tyyy 🫶

“Hey Charles..what I posted to instagram was okay right?” You ask, looking up at him from your phone, admiring how he looked basking in the sun.

You two hadn’t put out anything official, especially since you hadn’t told anyone- well Pierre knew, and Kika…but that was different.

It was sometimes nice that Charles knew about what happened with you and Pierre, but there were moments that you knew he didn’t fully trust you, which was reasonable!

But you assured him many times you only wanted him, you were tired of being the other woman, tired of empty promises from Pierre, tired of being casted aside.

“Yes it was okay cheri..you don’t need to ask..” Charles says with a chuckle, glancing over at you from his spot.

“Half of the media speculates that we were together anyway..” He adds on.

“Yeah..that’s true” You say with a small chuckle. You continue to scroll through some of the comments, mainly focused on the hate ones.

Charles catches onto that quick, and yanks your phone from your hands. “No need to care what others think..” He says, placing your phone by his, far out of reach from you.

“But…” You start to say, although Charles has you stopping mid sentence with a single look.

“Let’s just relax, yeah? Nice beautiful day out on my yacht okay?” He says with a smile, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to his side.

“Alright..” You mumble out, leaning your head on his shoulder as you two bask in the sun, the rocking of the boat slowly relaxing you.

“Yeah- yeah definitely..” You mumble out, heart racing a bit, you and Charles hadn’t really been intimate, sure you two have kissed but that was really all. You guys have only been together for maybe three months, and to be honest you were scared to do anything- after Pierre.

Mostly because with Pierre it was different, it felt great, amazing even- but it was wrong.

That was the issue, you felt guilty constantly.

“Are you still worried about Pierre?” Charles asks softly, his eyes meeting yours. You instantly feel like you’re on a different planet, his eyes are soothing and warm.

“You can tell me cheri…don’t be afraid….I’m here for you...” Charles adds as he squeezes your hand softly.

“I don’t know Charles…with him I felt so guilty, I felt like I was always the second option..”

“He’d say all these things, promise me he’d tell her and change- but he never did…”

“And I’m happy for him and Kika! I am, they are an amazing couple..but it still hurt, y’know?” You say softly, fidgeting with Charles fingers as you open up to him fully about that situation.

“I know Y/n…it’s understandable..” Charles says softly and wipes away the small tear from your cheek gently. “I will never make you feel like a second option.”

Charles smiles softly and caresses your cheek, it feels nice, it feels like he’s appreciating you for everything you have to offer.

“Thank you..” You whisper out softly with a smile, leaning into his hand.

But the tender moment is ruined- because of course it is. You can hear Charles phone vibrate with a call, and you’d only have one guess as to who it would be.

Charles lets out a sigh, moving away from you to grab his phone, “It’s Pierre..” He grumbles out, quickly answering it and getting up, starting to mutter some phrases in French to Pierre, none of it you could understand- but you did understand that it sounded heated.

After a few minutes the conversation starts to die down, but starts to get heated back up. You could tell Charles wasn’t having any of it.

“Leave us the fuck alone” Charles grumbles out then hangs up, quietly muttering a curse as he sits down next to you.

“What did he want..?” You ask out softly, sitting up. You were unsure what to say- or do. It all felt tense now.

“Don’t worry about it…it’s just Pierre being Pierre” Charles replies with a small sigh, looking out across the ocean and closing his eyes.

Charles looks over and smiles softly and the moment is back, the tension is gone and life is somewhat normal again.

“Alright…” You say with a soft smile, knowing it’s better to forget that, and move on from Pierre.

——

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” You ask Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he puts on his coat.

“I’m not sure cheri…I’ll text you though” He says with a smile, placing a kiss to your lips as he leaves his apartment, going to do some sim work.

You smile to yourself, it was nice with Charles. He was sweet and considerate, it was really nice.

You decide to busy yourself with some extra work you had to get done. Clicking away and your computer you’re pulled out of your daze when you hear a knock at the apartment door.

“Coming!” You say, moving off the couch and to the door opening it.

“Didn’t Charles tell you to leave us alone?” You say as soon as you open the door and see Pierre.

Pierre looks at you with a smug smile, his hands in his pockets, and he leans against the wall. “Well this is awkward…me here, you home alone…” Pierre replies with a smirk, his voice was like butter but there was a hidden underneath.

“Listen you should leave Pierre- what happened between us is in the past..” You say with a sigh.

“You’re with Kika and I’m with Charles, just move on please” You add on.

“Is that so?” Pierre asks raising and eyebrow and he steps in closer to you to close the distance.

“But you know how it is…I have a habit that is hard to break of coming to you when I need a bit of…stress relief.” Pierre replies with a grin, his voice is sultry and you can’t help but get butterflies.

“What we had was regular..I liked it, it’s simpler with you” Pierre adds on with a grin.

“Pierre what we had was a mistake, it can’t be regular anymore! I enjoyed it in the moment, but I felt guilty constantly!”

“You would promise me that you’d tell her, that you would break up with her! But you didn’t! So move on!” You say, your frustration growing.

“Guilt isn’t always a bad thing cheri..” Pierre replies with a smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you towards him, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

“Why do I have to let her go? Why not have more fun with you and keep her?” Pierre asks softly as he places his hand on your neck.

You feel a sick feeling start to form in your stomach, “Why- why are you doing this?” You say, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm away.

“Please just leave me alone Pierre, I don’t want you anymore, I don’t want to be casted aside anymore”

Pierre chuckles. “I like this side of you cheri.. the one where you’re feisty and defensive.” Pierre takes your hand and places it on his chest.

“How can you say you don’t want me when we have such great chemistry..all those times we spent together felt amazing…” Pierre adds on and you notice a smugness in his tone and on his face.

“You’re just jealous Pierre, now fucking get out” You say, moving him towards the door.

Pierre scrunches up his face in annoyance and looks at you. “Okay fine, I’ll leave…but I hope to see you soon cheri.” Pierre replies softly and leaves.

You’re glad he was out of your life now, but a part of you still misses him and the chemistry you two have.

No! No, you have Charles, you like Charles!

You let out a sigh and collapse onto the couch, deciding sleep was a much better option than work.

“Cheri? You awake?” You hear Charles whisper out, you feel his hand brush through your hair.

Charles’ gentle touch was soothing and peaceful, and you start to relax under his touch.

“Mhm…” You mumble out softly and your eyes flutter open. You see the smile on his face and you couldn’t feel anything but content at that moment.

Yeah. You’re happy with Charles.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

notes 🪩: I’m back and taking requests!🫶

taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @peachbly @minkyungseokie @minseok-smaus @zahhh709 @redcloudedelk @itsprashimusic @janeholt3

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jjsmaybank20 · 5 months

Text

Celebrity News 2

Jenna Ortega x GN!Reader

Summary: Once again, everyone thinks that you and Jenna broke up. In reality, you just wanted to cause some drama.

Warnings: literally all fluff, and my shitty writing

Word Count: 706

A/N: woooo part 2 cause I couldn't help myself. also, im back from the dead! for a bit. i have midterms right now which are whooping my ass so... wish me luck!

Part 1

navigation celebrities (romantic) masterlist

---

2,628,553 Likes

Y/N_Y/L/N: Sadly, after 1 ½ wonderful years, Jenna is not my girlfriend anymore. We are still on good terms, I promise, but I just thought I would let you guys know.

User57: WHAT?! THIS CANT BE REAL

User32: This is not happening. What the actual fuck.

y/n&jenna4life: No i refuse to believe this

arianagrande: I’m so sorry, Y/N/N!

jenniferlawrence_: dude that sucks! Hope you’re doing okay

>Y/N_Y/L/N: i’m okay, thank you for thinking of me

---

THIS IS NOT ANOTHER FALSE ALARM: ACTORS JENNA ORTEGA AND Y/N Y/L/N HAVE REPORTEDLY SPLIT

According to an instagram post Y/L/N posted last night, said actor and Wednesday star Jenna Ortega have split. A couple months ago, there was a false alarm in the end of the two’s relationship, caused by a hilarious dispute over a game of Monopoly. Well, this time, it seems that no one will be laughing. Ortega and Y/L/N are scheduled to be on The Late Night Show with Jimmy Fallon tonight, so maybe they will provide some insight as to why the seemingly perfect couple has split.

---

“You guys are on in 5!” A stage attendant calls into the dressing room, prompting you to stand up at the same time as Jenna. You grab her hand and bring it to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. She smiles at you, blushing, before squeezing your hand and making her way out of the room. You follow closely after Jenna, excited to talk about your new movie with her.

The introduction music begins to play, and you hear Jimmy Fallon calling out both your name and Jenna’s. Jenna walks out first, waving to the crowd, and you follow behind, buttoning your suit jacket and winking at some of the people in the audience.

As the two of you take a seat, Jimmy jumps right into the interview. He asks you questions about your roles, and just about the film in general. He also asks Jenna some questions about the second season of Wednesday. Finally, he gets to what he had been wanting to ask the most.

“You guys were absolutely amazing in this film, but I have to say. It must have been difficult working together, at least for a little while.” Jenna gives him a confused look, and you fight the smile that is trying to make its way onto your face as best you can. “Why do you say that?” Jenna questions.

Jimmy gives her an odd look, explaining, “Well, because the two of you broke up, right? At least, according to Y/N’s Instagram post.” You still manage to keep a straight face, even when Jenna whips her head around towards you. “What the hell did you do, Y/N Y/L/N?!”

You look around as if you can’t see her before turning back to Jimmy. “You know, sometimes I can still hear her, nagging me as if she were my girlfriend or something.” She finally breaks, letting out all of the laughter that she had been trying to hold in. Jimmy and the rest of the audience laugh with her, but they are clearly confused.

Jenna rolls her eyes at you, ignoring your laughter. She turns to Jimmy to explain. “Ignore this little shit, they think they’re hilarious. So what happened is, Y/N is not my partner anymore.” Jimmy becomes even more confused, exclaiming, “So what is it?!” Jenna holds up her hand, revealing the glittering ring that you had purposed with only a short while ago. “They’re my fiance.”

Jimmy gasps, not expecting this at all. “Oh my god! Congratulations!” You have finally recovered from your amusement, and you thank the man for his kind words. As soon as you fully sit up, Jenna smacks the back of your head. You wrap up the interview, and you and Jenna head home.

As you get ready for bed that night, Jenna turns to you. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that?” You just grin at her, replying, “But you love it. You love me.” Jenna can’t help but smile at you. “Fine. I do love you. So much.” She presses a kiss to your lips before heading into the bathroom. You just stand there in your room smiling. Life couldn’t get much better than this.

---

@lovelyy-moonlight @pnsteblnme @MrsLillithy @alotofpockets @theenglishswiftie @tundra1029 @ampitrit3 @didyoubringauntienat @jensortega813 @ortegalvr

Join my taglist!

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tripleyeeet · 9 months

Text

I'M STARVING, DARLING (8)

SUMMARY: For the first time in a long time, you and Astarion find yourself experiencing a sense of normalcy through the chaos.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,346

WARNINGS: Sexual tension (there always is with these two, whoops), a bit of bloodsucking, mentions of past abuse, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long! I'm back from vacay at work and died for four days straight but now we're back! Sort of!

Updates from now on might not be as frequent but I'm going to try and post weekly; maybe on Saturdays?

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

“Don’t you dare.”

At this point, you’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, locked inside his arms —unable to bring yourself to move thanks to the comfort you feel surrounding your frame. A comfort you haven’t felt in a long time as you listen to the raspy way his voice tickles your neck, prompting you to sigh and give in, knowing that resistance is futile.

“They’re going to kill us, you know.”

Shifting awkwardly to face him, you try not to smile when he peaks one eye open, quickly closing it when he catches your own. “I’d like to see them try considering I’m already dead.”

“Yes, well I’m not.”

He huffs, clutching you further into his chest. “And that’s my problem?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully smack his face before wriggling from his grasp, moving to sit upright with a groan. As you do, you quickly remember the events of last night and slowly roll your bare shoulders, feeling them click in and out of place before you raise your arms to the sky with a yawn.

Despite your better judgement, you stayed up far too late, enjoying the ever-growing intimacy the night had to offer. All of the lingering touches and longing gazes mixed between small bouts of passion and a rather lengthy dip in the tub were nothing short of worth it. In fact, if you were honest, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. A proper break from the chaos you’d been unwillingly thrust into as of late.

You knew because of that it’d be hard to wake up. To let your mind move from fantasy to reality as the sun hit your face and the reminder of the oncoming doom filtered through your tired mind.

What you weren’t prepared for however was Astarion’s lack of restraint as his curious fingers begin to slip across your back. Carefully drawing up and down your spine, his fingers move in delicate motions, sending an onslaught of shivers down your spine that have him chuckling under his breath, shuffling closer toward your frame.

“If you told me last night I’d be enjoying such a delicious view…”

When you turn to give him a narrow-eyed look he trails off, looking at you with feigned innocence as he kisses your shoulder blade, allowing his lips to linger as you stare him down.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

“And you’re lucky my blade’s still attached to my clothes. Otherwise it’d be at your throat threatening you back to bed.”

“Kinky.”

Immediately he snorts, pressing his forehead against your back. “For fuck sakes— come back to bed, please. I won’t ask you again.”

Biting your lip, you look around the room for a moment, picking apart the disaster of discarded clothes and muddied floors mixed between half-opened packs of supplies. Somehow despite the disarray of it all you still manage to smile as you crane your neck back, knowing that you should get up but ultimately give in to temptation, shuffling around Astarion’s frame to rest your head back on your pillow.

“Fine. You win.”

“Win?” He slips effortlessly into your side, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to your cheek before tracing the edge of your jaw with his finger. “And what pray tell is my prize?”

“My company.”

He scrunches up his face in false disgust, softly taking hold of your chin. “I was hoping for something a bit more exciting.”

It’s apparent then that he’s looking for a repeat of the hours prior. More moments of shared ecstasy before the inevitable shift in focus occurs and you’re most likely left wanting for another few weeks.

It’s tempting for sure. Especially when he slips a leg between your own, gently pushing his thigh against that spot that has you swallowing hard as you close your eyes.

“You and I both know—“

He cuts you off with a long kiss. One that’s devoid of anything other than the hunger of a starved man, reaching for that initial bite. It’s all tooth and tongue —a mess of movements that have him shifting upright to straddle your leg, breathing hard against your open mouth as he slots his teeth against your lower lip, making you groan.

“Sorry darling, what were you saying?” His grin is wicked when he pulls away, using the moment of dazed confusion to stroke your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. When nothing comes out he merely chuckles and places a much softer kiss in the same spot, resting against you for a second or two before pulling away.

“You’re awful.”

“And you’re easy,” he muses, moving his thigh against you. “Desperate even.”

Immediately, there’s a part of you that wants to argue that the feeling of your legs suddenly tightening around his own as your breath begins to falter isn’t the result of your desperation, but his. That you’re merely just a victim to his charms like always. However, the bigger part of you knows he’ll probably make you feel otherwise. More than likely, he’ll retort with something far too clever and make you second-guess your words.

So instead, you merely give in to his claims, humming quietly as he explores your frame, quickly laying waste to your neck with an open-mouthed kiss that makes you crave that feeling again. The cold nothingness brought on by his teeth latching against you.

Despite its somewhat violent cause, you still long to remember the feeling. The incomparable bliss of that icy jolt before total numbness occurs, leaving you lightheaded and empty. Suddenly, it takes over your mind, flashing amongst the current movements of his mouth trailing down your torso.

All of it’s enough to say his name. Quietly through the haze of desire, you feel him pause and look up, raising a brow at your heavy chest as you cup his cheek. “Are you hungry?”

He looks at you confused. “If this is some sneaky way of trying to get out of bed, I can assure you—“

“No.” You shake your head, moving it slightly to the side to showcase your throat. “Are you hungry?”

For a moment there’s an undeniable tension that grows. Festering amongst naked skin and scratchy sheets, it builds by the second, making your chest ache with the kind of nervous anticipation that has you wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have spoke.

He may be a vampire but thus far he’s managed to keep himself from feeding on you since that first time. Something you were both surprised and disappointed by, considering you had expected him to ask for more. Especially after the reaction of his previous feed. It was obvious that it was enjoyable. A moment of pure decadence that left him wanting more despite the consequences.

“Wait a minute, am I dreaming?”

His face is suddenly inches from yours, his breath wafting against your face through a grin that makes you chuckle. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m sure I’ve dreamt of this exact scenario once or twice.”

“Have you now?”

He hums with a nod, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “Yes. However, the only difference is that I was in a castle and Cazador’s head was on a stick in the corner.”

You snort and wrap your arms around his head, pulling him closer. “Sorry to disappoint. Hopefully you can consider my offer the next best thing?”

“I suppose. But only because you were my first.”

First?

Immediately, you wonder if it’s a slip of the tongue —another one of his flirtatious lies sent to woo despite already having you. Given the nature of his past, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Considering his role under Cazador’s thumb was to charm and lure, you know that lies like this are still second nature. A mechanism of lust ingrained into his psyche.

Plus, it’s not like it’s possible for you to actually be his first. Having spent most of his time in spaces like this, a bit of bloodletting was bound to happen at some point. It was inevitable really when you think of Astarion’s voice and face and overall ability to manipulate.

Surely it’d be hard to resist. But then it dawns on you —the severity of his abuse. The tightened leash so carefully tied around his neck for hundreds of years. There’s no way Cazador would’ve allowed him such pleasantries. Despite his efforts —despite the countless opportunities to take his fill, it quickly becomes apparent that he wouldn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because despite the allowance to explore the city, he was still considering nothing.

It makes your heart simultaneously skip and break, watching the sudden nervousness that clouds his features. The way his cheeky grin sort of falls out of place, showcasing an underlying fear that has him licking his lips and searching your face.

“Is that true?”

All he does is nod his head, looking at you with such sincerity that the only way you’re able to respond is to inhale slowly. To stop and stare and subtly nod back, hoping that he understands.

When he does you’re met with nothing but anticipation. A breathless series of moments leading up to Astarion’s mouth against your throat, warming up the skin with languid licks that have you closing both your eyes, waiting for the pain.

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.”

The edges of his teeth scrape gently over your skin, making you swallow and sigh, unable to answer because you’re too busy preparing. Too busy expecting the pain before it eventually subsides into that numbness you so desperately crave.

“Thank you, for this. Truly.”

His voice feels like velvet on your skin. The way it coasts the expanse of it in the softest of praise before it’s surpassed by that first initial jolt, ripping through your flesh in one quick push. Groaning lowly, you feel the presence of his teeth slide inside before you can even process, his lips haphazardly slotting over top to suck.

Without much warning you find yourself lost. Laying slack against the bed, unable to even bring yourself to grab his hair like the first time, you merely ride the wave of pain and pleasure that repeatedly breaks against you. Allowing it all to sink in with a quiet hum that has him smiling against your throat, lapping up bloodshed after bloodshed until he hears the door crash open.

“It's way past sunrise what the hell are you —oh fucking— Astarion, seriously?”

Both of you look over in horror to see Karlach looking down at the floor —her one hand covering her face as she disapprovingly shakes her head, realizing what she’s just witnessed.

Upon noticing, you know she isn’t all that surprised —just disappointed. A feeling that makes you sick to your stomach as you work to sit up, swearing under your breath and reaching for the nearest sheet despite your head starting to spin.

“I know we’ve been without proper shelter for months but for god's sake Karlach doors exist for a reason!”

Mortified, you look between them as Astarion scolds, noticing the subtle smirk that rises over Karlach’s lips. “Well, maybe if the two of you got up when you were supposed to instead of lying around sucking each other off I wouldn’t have to fucking come up here in the first place!”

“To be fair, we never got to the part where I suck him off.”

Immediately, Karlach groans while Astarion snorts, prompting you to press your lips together to suppress a laugh as the energy in the room shifts toward your favour.

“You two are just —just… come downstairs, please. Gale was supposed to cook breakfast but his hand’s still sore from the fight yesterday.”

“What the hell does that have to do with us?” Astarion asks but unfortunately, you already know the answer.

“You know how protective he gets over the cooking duties.” Annoyed, Karlach rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her face to motion to you. “He won’t let anyone else but Blood-Bag over here do it.”

Both of you groan but relent, telling Karlach you’ll be down soon before she grumbles a low you better be before shutting the door.

When she’s gone you let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit up and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, trying your best to ignore the aching in your neck and the piercing gaze of Astarion’s frustration honing in on his handiwork.

“Don’t even think about it,” you tell him then, narrowing your eyes at the hunger that lingers beneath the surface, threatening to rise all over again at the sight of your bloodied skin.

Despite this, you know he’s most definitely thinking about it. Intensely and angrily, it’s probably the only thing he’s thinking about as he watches you push off the bed and move to your pack to grab a washcloth.

“Can’t I just finish you off?”

As you wipe down your neck, watching the way he frowns at the waste of blood you groan. “Astarion—“

“Please?”

He’s at your side in an instant, wrapping his greedy hands around your waist, pulling you in all over again. Convincing you that despite the importance of your compatriot’s breakfast, his fill still reigns supreme.

“Fine but—“

“I promise to return the favour.” He cuts you off with a smirk. One that’s laced with lust and quickly finds its way back to its home, stopping at the entrance with bated breath.

You can’t help but roll your eyes through your suppressed grin in response, feeling his fangs hit your neck only to stop when the door rings out in a series of knocks causing you both to close your eyes and groan, knowing it’ll have to wait till later.

A fact that stirs an anger in both of you as you begrudgingly clean and throw on your clothes, attempting to ignore all the tension as you head downstairs to the communal kitchen space.

Inside there’s about half a dozen bodies, slaving over pots and pans and chatting with their peers as they await their meals. In the corner, Gale and Shadowheart stand chatting amongst themselves, unaware of your presence until you’re standing before them, hands crossed grumpily over your chest.

“Ah! About time you two showed up! We were beginning to think you’d abandoned the crew —or worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than leaving all of you behind?” Astarion asks dully, prompting you to shoot him a glare that has Shadowheart cocking her head.

“Where’s Karlach? Did she find you?” she asks.

Both of you nod, trying your best not to reveal the events of her findings before quickly changing the subject, signalling Gale to go into some long-winded rant about the importance of breakfast.

After that Astarion zones out completely. Standing alongside you, you can tell his mind is elsewhere as you and the wizard discuss the various ingredients you have on hand, working together to ultimately decide on a simple breakfast hash you could’ve easily whipped up without the lecture.

“Do you want me to supervise or?”

You shake your head. “Seriously Gale. I’m fine. I’ve been cooking since I was five. Go rest with the others.”

It takes some further reassurance; mostly from Shadowheart who insists that you’re right because of how starving she is. But eventually, he manages to set aside his pride with a sigh, muttering something about spices before being dragged away, leaving just the two of you.

“I swear I’ve never seen a more uptight wizard.” Astarion shakes his head while you wander over to the nearest prep table, producing a cutting board and a blade from Gale’s leftover pack. “I mean, I know they’re all pretty tightly wound but him—“

“Can you start peeling potatoes for me?”

He looks at you like you’ve just insulted his character. With widened eyes and open lips, he takes a minute to look around the room to see if you’re speaking to someone else before he realizes he’s the only one there. “Me?”

“Yes, you. C’mere.”

He does, but only to further stand there and stare, letting out a laugh. “Oh darling, I don’t cook. Hunt, yes, but obviously considering the fangs and all that you and I both know I no longer have a need for culinary skills.”

Ignoring his words you hand him the knife and motion to the spot next to you, watching as he reluctantly obeys. “Peel these then cut them into chunks about this big.” You show him the sizing with your fingers, hoping he’s smart enough to understand before tossing a couple of potatoes in front of him. “Then cut these peppers about half that size.”

As you hand over the peppers, Astarion continues to look at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“Dead, actually.” You grin mischievously, procuring some eggs that Gale managed to trade off of one of the other cooks before you arrived along with a bowl. “Besides, I recall a moment earlier when you said you’d return the favour?”

“Sexually,” he states. Then, he grabs the nearest potato and begins to peel, shakily slicing off a piece of potato skin. “Also, if I recall we didn’t even finish your end of the bargain.”

“Yet.”

Realizing that you’re right, he merely huffs and continues to peel, wreaking havoc along the knuckles of his fingers in the process.

It makes you frown, watching him struggle as you crack your eggs and mix, remembering that he probably hasn’t done this in years. For the last two centuries, he was too busy hunting whatever he could find underground, desperately consuming whatever crossed his path —meaning he probably hasn’t used a knife for anything other than violence since before he was turned. A depressing fact that has you reaching for his hand and examining his wounds with tired eyes.

“Can I show you how to hold it?”

There’s a moment where he goes to protest but ultimately accepts, looking at you half-annoyed as you explain the angle at which the knife should sit in his hand and the amount of pressure you should use.

“I don’t know why you insist on having me help. I don’t eat any of it.”

As he speaks he still takes your advice, letting the knife carefully slide across the potato, avoiding his knuckles entirely, making you grin. “It’s not about eating. It’s about making something you’re proud of.”

“How can you be proud of something that will no longer exist in an hour?”

You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to explain as the two of you then work in silence. As he peels and cuts, you prep your eggs before moving on to the sausage, dumping the meat into a pan with some simple spices that most definitely weren’t on Gale’s list.

You discover then how easy this all feels. From the moment you woke up, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a new life. One where the threat of danger is lost just like the stagnant tadpole behind your eye. In your mind, there’s not a care in the world other than Astarion’s knife skills and the hungry bellies that impatiently sit and it’s nice. Simple. The kind of life you quickly find yourself longing to have as the two of you continue to cook, occasionally joking about your peers between flirtatious touches and suggestive comments that have your chest feeling warm.

“You know with some practice you might actually be a handy prep cook.”

Bumping your hip against Astarion’s you notice a flicker in his gaze. One that’s filled with something foreign and happy as the two of you begin walking out your freshly cooked meal. “I’d say you’re wrong but considering my toxic pride, I’ll merely agree.”

Before you can respond the whole table catches your attention. Their eyes are wide with want as you set the bowl of hash at the centre of the table, barely blinking before they’re shovelling it onto their respective plates and expressing their thanks; filling Astarion with a new kind of pride that makes him fully understand just what you meant earlier.

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#i'm starving darling #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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rinstaro · 1 year

Note

Tbh I don’t have an idea for this one kore, but smth horny asf with my bb time or even wild cause I’ve been having a bit of a rough time

hope ur well and thank you!!

-💫

of course, anything for you dear. this took so long!!!! sorry i’ve been so dead lately, life is tryna whoop my ass. i was playing botw and changed into the barbarian set and…… yeah. you know how it “bolsters links fighting spirit”? in my head it just makes him a lot more feral so it makes him horny too. i hope you like it! and i hope you feel better soon! i promise that these rough times will pass 🌟

cw: he’s a little mean, doggy, forest sex, reader is implied to be shorter than him, slight predator/prey dynamics, y’all are just messing around… or are you? reader has a vagina no pronouns, not proofread <3

minors do not interact.

you played with wild’s stuff all the time. he didn’t mind so long as you didn’t hurt yourself. his swords, his bows, and especially his armor. no matter how many rupees he’d spend buying you whatever clothes you wanted, you were always fascinated with his instead.

his knights armor was heavy and sturdy. his climbing gear showed off his toned arms. his sheikah armor had you drooling.

the only set you hadn’t seen on him was the barbarian armor. you always wondered about the set. the headpiece was just a little scary, so you asked him what the armor was for when it covered so… little.

“it makes me a little more…. it’s easier to fight.”

he left it at that, but it made you curious. so it made him stronger, but you wanted to see that firsthand. you asked him if he’d put it on for you to which he shied away. “i don’t think you’d like it…”

you rolled your eyes, begging him to do it, just once. he eventually caved. when he did, you immediately realized why he was hesitant to show you his armor.

he looked fucking divine.

the way it exposed the best parts of him had you salivating. you circled him, trailing your gaze up and down his body. the tattoos that manifest on his torso and legs... you wanted to taste them for yourself. “i cannot believe you hid this from me,” you mumbled. you wrapped your arms around him, tracing his skin with your fingertips. you could hear his breath hitch as you teased him relentlessly.

suddenly he grabbed your wrists, looking at you with a hardened gaze.

“i’m not sure if we should… do that right now.”

you could tell wild was holding himself back, so you decided to kick it up a notch. you dropped to your knees in front of him, batting your eyelashes when he hisses. your hands trailed down to his thighs, nails scratching the skin ever so slightly. “come on, you don’t wanna have fun? at least let me– oh!”

the grip on your wrists tightened, and you were locked in place. your heated gaze met his, and you shuddered. he looked like he was about to eat you alive. wild’s nostrils flared as he stared down at you, seemingly trying to keep himself together. he slowly leaned down, eyes never leaving yours.

“sure, let’s have some fun.”

that’s how you ended up deep in the forest, heart racing and wild hot on your trail. this was harder than you thought, but it was definitely exciting. the deal he made you was simple. just a quick game of hide and seek.

“you get five minutes. if you win, you get your way. if i win, i get mine.”

you took off as soon as he uttered the word ‘run’, excited giggles ringing in his ears as he watched you. he waited til you were out of sight, and even gave you an extra minute. after counting, he started walking at a leisurely place in the direction you took off in, grinning to himself.

sure, this was a little unfair. you didn’t stand a chance against him without the set, let alone with it. but you didn’t need to know that. you wanted to have some fun, so he’ll entertain you. wild wondered how long you’d last when he finally got you under him.

you stopped to catch your breath, hands on your knees as you panted. surely this was far enough. you'd been running at full speed for a while, and you were sure at least 2 minutes had passed. you had to have gotten pretty far.

only moments later did you hear a loud “thud” from behind you. you spun around to be met with trees and shrubs, the silence making you uneasy. your eyes scanned the area only to find nothing. probably just some animal, right? even if it was, you weren’t gonna take the chance. you slowly backed away in the opposite direction of the noise, keeping an eye out for any movement.

when you turned back to run, you were met with the hard surface of someone’s chest. you groaned, rubbing your nose before your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend.

“i win, right?”

you opened your mouth to protest, quickly being cut off by him gripping your chin. his hold was gentle but the look in his eyes was anything but. “l-link?” he wore a twisted little grin, as if he’d just caught his first meal in days.

“so we’re doing this my way. i’ll still give you one choice. do you want it here, or do you want me to chase you back home?” your knees buckled at his words, your mind reeling. you couldn’t even begin to speak, sputtering out nothing but nonsense. wild huffed, grabbing your wrists and pinning you face first to the nearest tree. he pinned your arms on the side of you and spoke, “don’t move.” you nodded hastily.

“you know you look really cute when you run? it was hard not to take you right there. the wait was worth it, though,” he grinned. his fingers traced your spine, his hunger only growing as he watched you shiver.

wild placed a hand over your eyes and started trailing love bites down your neck. you whined. the bites felt hard enough to leave marks, yet you could still tell he was holding back. you pushed your ass back against him, trying to rile him up.

your boyfriend growled, suddenly biting down harshly on your neck. you whimpered loudly as your arms twitched with the need to move, which didn't go unnoticed.

"look at you, still trying to be a good pet. ah, its a little late though. you've already pushed me to my limit," he snarled, landing a smack to your ass. he watched the flesh jiggle, humming contentedly. without warning, your bottoms were ripped from you and thrown to the ground. the roles were now swapped, wild on his knees before you- well, behind you.

you felt him part your folds with his thumbs, watching your sex drip with arousal. you squealed at your sudden nudity, arms reaching back to grab him. he quickly put a stop to that, grabbing both wrists in one hand. "on the tree. don't interrupt me."

you obeyed his orders, bringing your arms back to yourself and placing them on the tree. once he was satisfied with your position, he gave no warning before licking a long stripe up your cunt. you moaned shakily, the pleasure between your legs making you tremble. wild hummed, tongue swiping across your clit at a rapid pace.

he ate you like a man starved, your position not allowing you any room to squirm. you moaned his name over and over, and it only seemed to make him more ravenous. a mix of spit and slick dripped down his chin while his nails dug into your thighs. he'd been waiting for this for far too long. "l-link, im gonna- keep going, please!"

your boyfriend wasn't listening to your whines, tongue fucking you until your eyes crossed. he was doing this for him.

only a couple moments later did you gush all over his face, legs shaking in his grasp. wild didn't stop even when you whimpered for him to slow down. he made sure you were licked clean before pulling away from your cunt.

"b-babe what- oh!"

you weren't sure when he undid his belt, but you felt the head of his cock push against your folds.

"you always taste fucking amazing. be sure to give me another taste later," he whispered in your ear. his buttercup blonde hair tickled your shoulder as he leaned over you. "that wasn't loud enough for me, though. maybe i just need to be a little rougher, then you'll scream for me right?"

without another word, he pushed his cock into your cunt making your eyes roll back into your head. it took no time for you to adjust to his size, and he took no time in starting up a mean pace. the sound of his hips slamming into yours rang in your ears, every pleasurable thrusts making your head spin. one hand left your hips to grab your hair, tugging slightly. you winced, the pain sending heat right to your cunt.

"oh, you like that? squeezing me so hard— so cute, baby, thinking you could beat me," he groaned. you could only respond with loud moans, your brain turned to mush. "sound so pretty, gonna cum?" you nodded frantically in response, begging for him to keep going. he watched your cunt suck him in, your ass jiggling with every mean thrust.

"p-please, feels good!" your words slurred together, drool beginning to drip from your chin. it was too much and yet you wanted more. he was hitting your g spot with every thrust, his balls slapped against your clit, and you couldn't imagine a better way for this game of yours to end. you heard him snarl before he picked up his pace.

"f-fuck! 'm my god yes!" a few more thrusts and you were spasming in between him and the tree. wild stopped his movements, relishing in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. he chucked to himself as he watched you writhe. he suddenly frowned, realizing he hadn't been able to see your face when you came. oh, well. he'll just make you cum again.

wild pulled out, turning you around and staring you in the eyes. he then watched as your chest rose and fell, mouth hung open as you tried to catch your breath. the ferocity that was temporarily sated was now rising again.

you yelped in surprise when he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your back rested against the tree as you furrowed your brows in confusion. "b-babe?"

"you're so gorgeous. how many times do you think i could fuck you til your legs gave out?" he questioned casually, a dark smile on his face. your legs clenched against him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders while he held you up by your thighs. you swallowed thickly, unable to answer. "hm? three? four? or more than that? well, i guess we'll see..."

wild never broke eye contact as he slipped his cock back into you, not even giving you a moment before fucking you at a savage pace. your back arched against the tree as you squirmed in his grasp. he pounded himself deeper into your cunt, his growls getting louder and your vision beginning to turn white. he was too much, fucking you so mercilessly and yet you couldn't bring yourself to want to stop. is this what he meant? he thought you wouldn't like this?

"l-link!"

"hm?" he answered, never faltering in his pace.

"harder!" your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he huffed in disbelief. you just continued to surprise him. he adjusted his grip on your thighs, leaning in so that you two were nose to nose.

"i've always wanted to see how much you could take."

#kore.writes #star.anon #link x reader smut #link x reader #loz x reader smut #loz x reader #legend of zelda x reader smut #loz smut #link smut

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