#and it probably is compared to most other brands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theafterglow83 · 11 days

Text

Stray thoughts from an unhinged mind caused by a song called Robin

Since my teens, I have always been a Karlie Kloss fan. No amount of vitriol from the Swifty’s has ever strayed or strained my conviction that Karlie is on many levels, and aside from being absolutely gorgeous, a better human being than Taylor Swift.

By that I mean she seems to project a warmth and a level of kindness and humanity out into the world that is so pure and honest, when compared to Taylors, sometimes vengeful and darker persona ~as well as her being Queen Mother to one of the worlds most vindictive and exhausting cults who would gladly fillet anyone at “Mother’s “ request. Taylor (the brand) has made a career and a fortune from feeding her tales of romantic misfortune and presumed ex lovers to her hungry mob with merchandise to match.

Karlie on the other hand has a nurturing and supportive side to her and don’t let her beautiful and seductive exterior fool you for below that sultry surface she gives off a warm and fuzzy golden vibe- like a puppy. She’s sophisticated, highly intelligent, NYC chic and street smart , often silly and maturing like fine wine while somehow becoming more beautiful as she ages. She also appears to be one Hell of a good mother to those babies.

All that being said about their personalities is exactly why I believe Karlie’s sunshine is the perfect match for Taylor and her moody, broken, impulsive ,often over indulgent, midnight rain personality. Not only are they equal in status - they have a Yin Yang balance to them - Only that sunshine can dry up the rain in Taylor .

I’ll continue.

While listening to songs off of the TTPD I was stopped dead in my tracks when I came to the song, Robin. I listened three times and found a tear rolling down my right cheek. I was choked up and the tiny hairs on my arms stood up . To say I was moved would be an understatement. There was something so raw, so pure and so loving in those lyrics. I had to sit with my thoughts for a while but I feel the need to share them now among those who i consider “my people”.

The Kaylors.

Sidebar confession: Yes, I’m a Kaylor.

I firmly believe Taylor Swift, and Karlie Kloss had a long running romantic relationship. They were more than friends. They were lovers too. The level of denial it takes to doubt that is astonishing. It wasn’t just Kissgate that sealed the deal. It’s the way those two looked at each other and communicated in a secret language all their own. They were deeply in love.

I believe it all started prior to the public meet up at the VS Fashion Show and even long before the “your kitchen or mine cookie “tweet.

I believe Taylor and Karlie first met when Taylor was showing up at fashion shows that Karlie was walking in as far back as 2009. Where they had a relationship then? Probably not because they were both involved with others but the sparks were flying. Thats when the foundation was laid. The attraction was there. The seeds planted. Destiny and the Universe did the rest.

Think Love Story lyrics

“We were both young when I first saw you” which I believe Taylor wrote about Karlie and which also happens to be Karlies favorite song. I believe they had an ongoing relationship that continued on until late 2017-early 2018 and then I believe something happened and they broke up, as many long-term relationships often do. My guts tell me it was cheating and it was on Taylor’s part and the regret from that will haunt Taylor for her entire life because it caused the trajectory of their path to change.

Karlie married in 2018 yet many speculate they were still together and the unofficial story is the real trouble actually came in mid 2019.

Taylor was furious over the masters, fingers were pointing everywhere, cheating rumors flew. This entire story certainly has all the drama of a Netflix series that could easily do 8 seasons

There’s so much more to this Masters incident than the public is aware of. Also the fact that Josh’s families company ~ the Carlisle Group provided the funding to Scooter is an often overlooked storyline.

Was Taylor angry at Karlie for that but how could Karlie control that if she was even in that loop of that drama. Or~ was there more -because in any good mystery - there’s always several layers more .

What did Scooter have to leverage getting that kind of money from them to buy the masters? Being Karlie’s manager at the time perhaps he has something on her or Taylor or both of them and used it as that leverage . It’s a whole other rabbit hole that I don’t have time to visit right now but regardless Taylor is still angry about to this very day which tells me it goes way deeper and my gut feeling is that Taylor’s dad was the one involved with knowing things and not Karlie Kloss who got fed to the sharks over the situation.

So I’m going on record here saying I never believed Karlie had anything to do with Masters Heist. I believe that story was used as an explanation to explain their separation. I know there’s a whole other level of messy lore involving this and a love blackout and Trumps election and Karlie’s association with the Kushner’s but I’m going to skip over that season and move on -except to say that it was absolutely shameful the level of hate Karlie was forced to endure because of that and still her sun shinned while she was being made the villain online and much of it still continues to this day. At any point during that scandal Karlie could have spoken out but she didn’t. She quietly took one for the team.

I’m not going to pretend that I know what happened during that murky period or what is happening now - because honestly -I do not…but there have been a strange set clues and way too many “koincidences to simply chalk up to being coincidences.

It’s just a gut feeling but I also don’t believe their connection went fully went away or ever will for that matter. They are and will forever be tied together even in the times they are apart but I kinda think they reunited ( again) in early to mid 2020.

I’ve read all the theories. I’ve heard all the rumors ,I’ve been to the rabbit hole, I’ve climbed out, I’ve fallen back in, and most days now you’ll find me sitting on the edge dangling my feet still and kinda wondering. I live my life ~ they live theirs.

So am I a LSK?

No, not really, but some days …ok, maybe. You see for as much as I try to say no…there’s just this tiny string I can’t help but see so I keep my feet planted on the ground but my mind open.

By open I mean open to the possibility that Taylor and Karlie are in one of those kind of “relationships” where as hard as they try ~they just can’t seem to quit each other and they go through periods of on and off times. “pauses” is what I like to call the brakes or bumps along the way. You know that couple that’s over but they’re never really over ?

Where are they now? I have no idea.

Taylor has another year of touring and promoting and probably Travis. My money says Taylor Swift will be the halftime show at next years Super Bowl.

Karlie, along with her modeling contacts ( Carolina Herrera, Estée Lauder, Donna Karen etc ) is venturing into the business world. Along with running Kode with Klossy, she’s CEO of her newly formed media company. She bought I-D magazine and also Life magazine, which Josh also invested in , this year. She’s got a lot on her plate

Yes, Karlie is married but is she really married in the traditional sense of what we all consider marriage to be? On the surface, yes… but once again- the layers and the lore here is incredible.

What a character she’d be on that Netflix show I imagine in my head . Just give her an Emmy already.

Does she love Josh? I’m absolutely sure she does- but the real question is…is she IN love with Josh? You know- romantic love -which, I as an observer ~don’t believe she is or ever has been. You can just kinda tell and no matter how many pictures she posts the connection just isn’t there and whenever I see her with her beautiful babies (even if he’s in the photo) she gives off that “ single mother vibe “

That level of chemistry, no matter how the pictures are posed~ or the hand in hand walks are staged -the passion ~ the look in their eyes - it just isn’t there and honestly it never was.

They have always given off that bff energy and frankly ~ Karlie’s friendship with her “big brother “ Derek actually feels more real, relaxed and genuine.Then there are the gay rumors ( past and present) surrounding their entire little multiverse ~but we won’t go into them right now either. We’d be here all night.

And yes, Taylor has had her share of public relationships but have they been real? Have they had their moments? probably. Did some become more than PR for a brief period of time. Possibly She’s been linked to everyone she even walks by or talks to but somehow it all pales and fades in time. I’m sure there have been flings along the way but flings don’t fly and usually run their course in that 9 1/2 week period that flings seem to take.

If I’m being honest, as I observe from the treetops all of Taylor’s relationships and Karlies relationship with Josh, they never reach the level of the real connection and happiness that I saw between Taylor and Karlie. That’s something you just can’t fake or reproduce with another .

Whatever is going on with Travis is so cringey and sadly embarrassing.I tend to think it’s PR but if it’s real then he truly is her obnoxious karma and karma isn’t usually a good thing. But hey the moneys good. Maybe they’ll even get lavender married so she can stay in her closet and continue to throw red meat to the $wifties.

The future is yet unwritten.

All that being said, I’ll get back to my original point of this ramble and that’s a song called Robin.

So yes, I’ve heard the rumors, I’ve read the theories, I’ve seen photographs of visual evidence. Karlie Kloss was in Los Angeles during the pandemic, the same place where Taylor was in fort part of 2020. When she returned to NYC if you count the months - she was pregnant even if she didn’t look it. I also believe Karlie was there in the shadows during the Long Pond Studio recordings in Upstate NY. Jack kind of gave it away when he referenced “Joe the dog” as being who he thought Taylor was talking about when she said “ Joe and I wrote a song”

I’ve also heard the rumor that there was a ceremony between them that they tried to pass off as a ceremony between Taylor and Joe which Tree later denied that there was ever a ceremony of “any type”.

Ok buckle up because here it comes

I’ve seen the ��turkey baster”( IVF ) post that Karlie made. Like who uses a turkey baster in May? What an odd thing to do unless you were signaling an IVF pregnancy situation. Regardless ~ she was extremely happy that day.

I’ve seen the cinnamon buns post ( think the expression “buns in the oven ) that Taylor made a few days later back in May 2020. She was “proud” of her cinnamon buns.

Happy & proud …hum

Is that a crazy set of coincidences? Hand on whatever holy book you set before me ~ I’d have to say “yes”

And it’s Absolutely crazy considering the fact that Levi was born a little over nine months later.

Add in the fact of how emotional Taylor got accepting her Grammy for Folklore when Arron thanked his “ wife and kids “during the acceptance speech.

For a few moments there you could feel the raw emotion in her as she nearly burst into tears andJack tried to console her. Blonde was gutted. It cut deep.

Sidebar:

Yes Aaron has a son named Robin but he’s 9 years old and other than the name cleverly used for gentle cover of the truth in case damage control is ever needed~ there is no connection to that child or a secret, no showmanship to cover it up or anything that would make Taylor react as she did. Other than his name there is no connection to the words in the song

But the fact that Levi’s birth was announced during the Grammys absolutely does connect.

So I’ll just put a pin in that and move on.

Listening to that ballad yesterday rocked my entire world . It was so soft, gentle and living. So heart wrenching that I just let my emotions flow through me as my mind wandered back gathering and processing all the previous rumors and lore I had heard along the way. It left me rattled as it tumbled through memories. Could it all have been true?

So now I’m just gonna say it out loud running the risk of being attacked and also sounding like a supermarket tabloid…here goes “could Levi be Karlie’s and Taylor’s child?”

I know it sounds crazy…secret love child but …

I’m not trying to out anyone and I want to respect the fact that a child is involved here. Honestly I had second and third thoughts about posting this but if I’m being real ~ it’s also a collective of things that have been shared openly about Taylor and Karlie here for years. Somehow the song was like a puzzle piece that snapped into place.

…those loving words ,the emotion in Taylor‘s voice as she sings about her strong heartfelt attachment to a young toddler, as she encourages him in being wild and free in his wonder years, playing with abandon and roaring at the dinosaurs~

There was real love in those words

Looking out his window over his kingdom (NYC) and speaking gibberish

She also advocates for him keeping his innocence for as long as possible and then speaks of a secret that a inner circle of people have chosen to keep from him” in sweetness” to protect him and the “showmanship” to cover up that secret that he has no idea of.

And as she watches his unabashed play in his toddler purity she prophesies there will come a time in the future when the world he faces will have harsh words for him and she reminds him that he will bounce back like he now does on his trampoline.

“ and you have no idea

Buried down deep and out of your reach

the secret we all vowed

to keep it from you in sweetness

strings tied to levers

slowed down clocks tethers

all the showman ship

to keep it from you in sweetness

way to go, tiger

I’m not crying , you are and Levi looks just like his mommy 🤍

Let’s keep this in the family ✌️🤍🏳️‍🌈

God I love this show .

Stay tuned for next season

#karlie kloss #taylor swift #kaylor

198 notes · View notes

enditen · 10 months

Text

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck.

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse.

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

833 notes · View notes

sh0tanzz · 2 months

Note

Hiii💞 i wonder how they act when they have a crush 👀 cant wait for delulu Wonbin 🤣

RIIZE WHEN CRUSHING~ based on their birth charts

Authors Note: Im really scared I made this wayyy too long but enjoy everyone LOL

Shotaro

Stalks your socials once he gets them, but not in a creepy way ! Just to see the person you are outside of the settings he usually sees you in 😭. Tries to find out a lot about you..sometimes it’d -feel- likes he’s probing but it comes from a good place I swear. Would become your friend or at least well acquainted with you pretty fast and would be more forward with his interest. Super charming and would be pretty bold; would make a crazy amount of eye contact with you to where you can’t help but become flustered. Wouldn’t be too afraid of skinship tbsh.

Eunseok

You probably would barely know he liked you until you realize him bothering you was him having an excuse to be around you without raising suspicion; the fact every time you turn around he’s just..there 😭 even if he’s in the midst of hanging out/conversing with others he manages to be in the same place as you. Affectionate at the most random times like if you stubbed your toe he’d laugh at you till he cried but if you were upset about something so simple he’d be so empathetic. Would come at you with a mixture of teasing you whilst also trying to seduce you at the same time ???

Sungchan

Straightens his back and tries to stand out whenever you’re around. Oh you have a bag that’s hard to carry ? Isn’t it sooo crazy that he, Sungchan can carry it for you without breaking a sweat. Will ask for your input and opinion on his work/dancing/rapping even if he knows he did well just to hear your praises and compliments. Suddenly starts wearing a certain brand that you mentioned you liked more often. Reiterates the fact you can depend on him..if you need a listening ear he’s there if you need advice or someone around he’s there. Showersss you in compliments and small gifts until you collapse.

Wonbin

I’ve noticed a lot of people think Wonbin is some type of toxic fratboy when it comes to romance but…no, not really. I won’t lie he’s been around the block before 😭 but when it comes to someone he GENUINELY LIKES. A damn simp he is. Would text you more compared to talking to you in person in the beginning out of shyness. Tries to bond with you via things you’re both interested in. May use artistic details to express how he feels..example: playing a song you like on his guitar for you. His approach is more slow and hesitant once he understands this requires actual effort and has to be genuine.

Seunghan

A literal flirt bot ohmg. Tries his best to be on your good side and for you to see him as someone you can easily trust and get along with initially. Invites you to come with him whenever hes about to go out to a fun activity, trying something new or about to party/drink. Compliments you SO MUCH and is more outwardly affectionate. Make fun of you A LOT (rip if you’re sensitive) but luckily he’d dote on you like right after. His venusian influence makes him popular with women so he’d try super hard to swat them away so you don’t get the wrong idea of him. Boasts to people that he has more of a chance with you than anyone else 😭

Sohee

Similary to Shotaro he’d get acquainted with you pretty easily. Ik a lot of briize view Sohee as soft and sweet but ngl his sag mercury makes him pretty blunt plus it’s square mars so he might talk a bit reckless 😭 He might mention liking you without MENTIONING liking you yk. He’d say it so plainly to where you think it’s a joke BUT ITS NOT HES VERY FR. Jokes his way into your heart and hangs out with you in fun locations. Definitely makes fun of other guys to ensure to you he’s the one for you LMFAOO. He’s typically the one being doted on but once he likes you he’d switch the role.

Anton

The biggest. Friends to lovers trope. Occurrence ever. Hed be introverted and keep his distance in the beginning but as soon as you were more closer he’d do small sweet things like spam your phone , give you snacks, have you tag along with him whenever he’s heading somewhere random. His aries influence makes him competitive and taurus venus slightly makes him possessive so he’d def try to get your attention more than others. There’d most def be a funny limbo of both you and him not knowing whether you two were friends, together or in some kind of in between 😭.

256 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

What are your fav romance tropes and to which TWST men would you give them to? Since they're fairy tail inspired anyways there's probably some you could apply to them easily.

As much as I like writing romance I'm not much of a romance movie watcher so everything I do say here will be based on... well mostly anime and fanfic stuff.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, teasing, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, sneaking around, secret relationships

A/N: All of these are also tropes I enjoy writing about a lot, which I'm sure you already know if you've been following me for a while.

Riddle is the shy, withdrawn love interest trope who wants to catch your eyes but doesn't know how to approach you. He spends a lot of his time watching you, blushing when you look at him but not approaching you. He honestly feels like he could wait forever for you, you're the apple of his eye, you're worth waiting for, and if needed worth fighting for but hopefully you can realize your feelings without it ever coming to that.

Leona is the cold shoulder trope. He wants to be left alone, he wants nothing to do with you at first and finds you annoying more then anything else. He can snap at other pretty easily which leads him to be branded a bad boy and delinquent, only adding to his isolation. He's not a brute, he just values his space, which you keep stepping in and making him lower his walls until eventually you're sitting shoulder to shoulder in the garden, him purring and his tail loosely wrapped around you.

Azul is the enemies to lovers trope. You heard many stories about him, you want nothing to do with him when you meet, hell you even see him doing shady things which only adds to your negative feelings. He seems to enjoy riling you up, thriving on it actually. He doesn't like you that much at first either, thinking you to be too much of a goody two shoes. It would be very fun if he could somehow get you on his side. If not he'll be happy with seeing you get flustered around him whenever he feels like he's won and kisses your cheek as a reward only for him.

Kalim is definitely the childhood friends to lovers trope, he has loved you since the day you met, but was never brave enough to say it. Even when you enrolled in the same school as him, the same class, he couldn't confess. It was only after he saw how popular you were that he started being more bold with his feelings towards you. He would talk about funny past memories, recalling the jokes and the sleepovers. In fact... you haven't had a sleepover in a while, what do you say? He'll leave the window open for you, just sneak in, just like old times. With... extra kisses maybe, if he confesses.

Vil is the popular guy in school trope. Everyone likes him, the students, the teachers, hell even the animals love him. Because of that he is a little hard to approach. Luckily you're the one that catches his eye, so he approaches you, much to the amazement of others. Compared to him you're boring, nothing special, but that is exactly why he wants you, someone who just transferred, someone new, someone exciting, fun. And you're a cute girl, how can he resist.

Idia is the guy next door trope. You see him every day but you don't know a lot about him when you first arrive. He's hard to get a hold of and not too sociable. At least you walk to school together so that's already more then most people get to see of him. Over time he begins to wait for you, bashfully offering you his jacket when its cold, or offering you his hand when it's windy. He definitely has a protective, soft side to him, and you are one of the few to see it.

Malleus is the quiet outcast, the one wolf, or dragon if you will. Besides his tight circle of friends he doesn't talk to many people so it's not easy to get ahold of him either. Well... he can talk to you quite easily, he wants to actually, he's very quick to develop feelings and worst yet he falls hard and fast. Once it starts it's not easy for him to shake and he's been hurt before, another reason why he tends to keep mostly to himself. If he opens up to you you might hurt him too. You won't will you? If were to kiss you, would you push him away?

975 notes · View notes

wasjustred · 1 year

Note

ahhh iloveyourworkssomuch!! 💖 i'd like to request something along the lines of sugar mommy!larissa (maybe with smut, who knows *wink*) 'cause she's all i can think about these days... anyways, happy early new years!!!

Easy Does It - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: Larissa spoils you beyond comprehension. Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x f!Reader Warnings: Smut. A lot of it. (Cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on — all Reader receiving) Word Count: ~4.7k

Author’s Note: I hope this meets your expectations, anon! I originally intended to make Larissa way more domineering, but once I began writing it just didn’t feel like her——I tried to stay true to her character where I could. As always, feedback is welcome ﹠. appreciated! ♡ (un-beta-ed as per usual!) ╱ AO3

The arrangement you and Larissa have has been smoothly gliding along for about six months now: you meet for dinner every weekend, in a town about half an hour outside of Jericho. You wear an outfit she’s picked out for you, she pulls your seat out, you share conversation and good - expensive - food and drinks, and you end on the stoop of your apartment, leaning into the kiss she places on your cheek, with a weekly allowance in cash in your purse. It’s the perfect set-up, nothing you’d dare protest, but sometimes you honest to god wish she’d just break her own rules and rail you ‘till the bed breaks.

Tonight you meet her at The Aviary, draped in a black satin dress with a deep slit up the leg––one of her favorites. Larissa helps you into your seat as she usually does, but before she takes her own, she places a long velvet box on your empty appetizer plate.

“Ooh, what’s this?”

“Open it and see.” A small, proud smirk turns her lips, eyes sparkling. You run your fingers over the velvet and lift at the seam, features going slack with surprise when you realize what’s hidden inside: a collar necklace, glittering diamond-cut, softening into a single falling arc of gems which ebbs, finally, into a small, shining teardrop. Light from the restaurant’s fixtures seem drawn to it, gleaming to and fro in a scattered stream of reflection. Your gaze snaps back to hers almost immediately, heart pounding.

“Larissa, I–”

“Do you like it?”

“I– Of course I do, it’s– it’s so beautiful..” Your voice softens and tapers off as you return your attention to the box before you. It’s probably the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given to you, but you stop short of admitting this. “Help me put it on?”

Larissa’s smile grows as she gathers the box in her hands, lifting the necklace from its cushion. She moves to stand behind you and tenderly brushes your hair aside; her hands are as soft as anything, so gentle in the way they handle you, securing the piece around your neck. Your own hand raises to rest atop the new weight at your clavicle, and when she sets her palms along your shoulders and squeezes, you shift your hand up to capture hers.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Do I need one?” Larissa presses her lips to your cheek from behind before she retakes her seat, arching a brow in challenge. The answer is no, of course; this is how you work, special occasion or not. She always manages to keep you on your toes, though, far more thoughtful and intimate than any other ‘financeur’ you’ve ever humored in the past: Tennis bracelets set with gemstones which perfectly match your eyes, a new coffee bar set-up when you mentioned off-hand that Starbucks had discontinued your favorite drink, a signed first edition copy of your favorite book she ‘just so happened to come across’ while out of state. Much more than the simple, routine bank deposits and luxury brand pieces that were never quite you which you received from others. Larissa’s gifts have always been astoundingly personal.

You’ve never told her this, but you stopped dating altogether once your little dynamic began. How could anyone else compare? She makes you feel important without ever having to work for it ––– like you’re lovable, worthy, because you exist, and nothing more. You’re breaking your own rules, being so enamored with her, but you refuse to dwell on it.

“No, you don’t…” You trail off as your food arrives, ducking your head in thanks as the waiter sets everything out before you. Any discussion of her gift to you ends there on Larissa’s own accord, swiftly and advantageously moving on to a new topic as soon as the waiter has left you. The rest of the night is spent sipping expensive wine and musing instead on all of the high-culture goings-on you never get to discuss with anyone else: Art, ballet, classical music. Larissa’s a delicious trove of knowledge and opinions and she impresses you with each turn of a new topic. You often find yourself wondering - not just tonight, but many nights whilst basking in her presence - why she’s chosen you. You can hold good conversation, of course, and have an appreciation for the finer things in life usually reserved for those older and/or wealthier than you, but what’s always been curious, what’s always given you pause, is that she never asks for anything else in return. You have no choice but to ask yourself what it is you possibly have to offer to a woman like her––but you almost always fall short of a satisfying answer.

She’s talking you both through an analysis of the most recent play she brought you to when you take one of her hands in your own, tracing the lines of her palm as you listen. Larissa stumbles over her words at first contact, a rare occurrence for her, and blushes pink at the sensation. When you glance up at her in question she quickly averts her gaze and carries on, moving to smooth her thumb over yours as you continue. You love her fingers: they’re long, delicate, awfully reminiscent of the Greek statues she enjoys waxing poetic about. It’s an instance in which you’re reminded art, very often, echoes us in a continuous cycle of give and take.

You don’t say a word when you notice her face darken another shade as you press a kiss to the inside of her wrist before moving on to dote upon her other hand.

She’s not once explicitly told you, but Larissa’s never expected you to take a physical liking to her. She set the rules she did early on for a reason, knowing she could live with looking and not touching, taking care of you and watching your face turn alight with each gift or special night out without ever ending the evening by your side. No sex necessary, no physical affection expected. But here you are, fawning over her, and she’s never been more conflicted.

To assuage the feeling, she convinces herself it’s the wine that’s made you this way––a good bottle will go a long way, thus your touch must be the product of inebriation, not genuine affection. You’ve both long since finished off your meals when Larissa pays the bill and drives you home as she normally does, to an apartment she partly finances (not fully, at your own insistence that there are some things you should take care of yourself) and walks you to your door, stooping to kiss your cheek. Routine.

She is right about one thing, however, and that’s the potency of the house wine tonight. Not on your reasoning, but your self-control. You spent the car ride home admiring her profile in the passing streetlamps and traffic lights, studying the way each red light cast itself across her, how the passing headlights of opposing traffic bathed her in a cinematic glow you associated only, appropriately, with Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire. Ghostlike, almost. Ethereal. And at that same wine’s behest, you lean further now into her goodnight kiss than you’d normally allow yourself.

It’s as she prepares to leave that you decide - anchored by the weight of the diamonds around your neck - that this is the night you’ll throw caution to the wind, fervently hoping it won’t backfire and end with her rejection and a ruined arrangement that you’d both worked to preserve over the past six months.

“Do you want to join me for a nightcap? I know we don’t usually, but.. I’d like you to. If you’d like to, of course. If you don’t that’s–––”

“Y/N,” she interrupts. You can hardly tell but her heart’s just about burst out of her chest. There’s an inner battle waging right on the precipice of her ribcage and your bright, hopeful eyes staring up at her aren’t making it any easier to parse out. Do you feel obligated somehow to pay her back for the necklace? She knows you know she’d never ask that of you, that your arrangement is not a traditional one, but has she unknowingly pushed the bounds all the same? Did you simply imbibe too much and don’t really have a clue what it is you’re saying?

Or, perhaps.. Most dangerously: Do you mean it?

“I don’t want you to feel as though you have to… ‘pay me back’ for tonight. That was never my intention.”

She volleys her own inner turmoil dead straight in your direction and stares down at you with what might be, if you squint hard enough, a nervous expression.

You lean sideways against the door and cross your arms over yourself, appraising her. Does she really not want you? What the hell does she get out of this if she doesn’t? You just can’t wrap your head around it, and while you insisted to yourself you’d never outwardly question the bounds of your relationship and why they’ve settled where they are, you’ve put yourself at a crossroads.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

She balks.

“What? Of course I do. What does that have to do with anything?” Larissa’s expression is a mixture of incredulity and apprehension. You decide to bite the bullet then as she lingers uncertainly beneath the moonlight.

“I don’t understand what you get out of this. Am I not–– you think I’m pretty but you don’t want to touch me? You pay for my livelihood but you don’t want anything tangible in return?” You both purse your lips simultaneously and you’d laugh if the situation weren’t so dire all of a sudden. “You confuse me, Larissa.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a small cloud bursting forth as she sighs.

You fucked it, didn’t you? Fucked it right to hell, and now she’s never going to speak to you again.

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” The air goes still.

…

It’s news to you.

Larissa suddenly pushes forward and traps you against the front of your door, hands leveled at your waist. “I’ve always wanted you,” she grits out, her arms tensing at your sides. “I just didn’t want you to feel as though you had to. Return the sentiment, that is. You’re too precious for that.” Her voice is low and rough in your ear, strangled. You grab hold of her forearms to keep yourself upright when her tone shoots right through you, breathing heavily. You gradually lift your gaze, poring over every curve of hers as you do, and meet her eyes. They’ve nearly gone black with lust, and a subtle quiver in her lip tells you everything you need to know.

“Kiss me.”

Larissa groans, which is admittedly not the reaction you’d expected, and presses further into you, her nose brushing against your cheek. You can feel the heat of her grow, ensnaring you in perfect contrast to the cool night air.

“You have to tell me you want it, darling. I need you to say it.” … Oh. A new wave of arousal surges through you as you turn your head ever so slightly, her lips hovering just out of reach. The shared breath between you has become fraught with possibility, with the overwhelming, unspent energy that’s been collecting over the last six months without either of you quite noticing. Of course this is what she needs: confirmation, not that you’re hers but that she’s yours, by choice and choice alone.

“I want you, Larissa. Please,” you whisper, squeezing her arms in an attempt to ground yourself. She says nothing in return, instead immediately closing the distance and engulfing you in a desperate, searing kiss. Your cheeks burn and it’s all you can do not to melt into her fully, sucking in a sharp breath as her tongue slides against your bottom lip. This, this, you realize, is exactly what you’d imagined: Feeling her against you, wrapped up tightly in her arms, being drawn in and freed all at once, struggling to contain the desire you feel pulsing within yourself. It’s like Larissa’s split open your mind and picked through every thought there, coming away with only the most indecent imaginings and putting them to use as her hips pitch forward and her hands grasp achingly at the roundness of your thighs.

“Open the door,” she husks, suddenly ripping herself away and turning you at the waist to face the door. You fumble for your keys as she scores your neck and shoulders with hot, open-mouth kisses, running the tip of her tongue along the muscle that pulls taut there.

“F-fuck.” The chuckle she gives in response to your whimpering, shaking when you can’t fit the key into its slot, only weakens you further. Larissa must know her effect well as she wraps an arm around you to hold you upright, the other grabbing the key from you and swiftly unlocking the door in one go.

“Trust me, I’m trying.”

Laughter follows you both as you take the stairs one at a time, pausing every few to take her tongue in your mouth and run your hands along her front. You bypass the living room once you reach the landing - a feat in itself - and lead Larissa straight to your bedroom, kicking one heel off in the hall and the other at the threshold of your room.

She stops you just before you reach the bed and holds you steady for a moment: “Hold on, I want to look at you..” You hair is mussed, curls losing their hold in the heat of your entanglement, chest heaving and red. Larissa steps forward to brush her thumb over your lips, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

She doesn’t find any.

“Christ, you’re a pretty thing,” she hums. The pad of her thumb pulls at your bottom lip and you acquiesce, tilting your chin up before taking her finger into your mouth, rolling your tongue against its tip, watching her with wide eyes that imply an innocence you don’t possess. A hiss escapes her when your teeth come down around her knuckle and she scowls, gripping your jaw with an intensity that rivets the surrounding atmosphere as she rips her hand away, smashing your lips together once more.

In the next second the backs of your knees are buckling against the edge of the mattress and you squeak; Larissa had slipped a hand over your sternum and shoved, launching you down hard into the bed. Wet heat urges your hips forward as she crawls over you, but her hands swiftly come down to force them back into the mattress, trapping you there.

“Patience, darling.” You scoff as she begins the journey down your body, placing lazy kisses to your lips, cheek, jaw, chest while her fingers deftly work to pull your dress from you. You lift your back so she can snake a hand around and drag the zipper down to its end at the top of your hips, wriggling free and moving to pull at her own dress–––but she grabs your wrists, pinning them above you with a devious smirk.

“Ah, ah. Let me spoil you,” she murmurs into the crook of your neck, one hand traveling to cup the dampness between your legs. Electricity cracks against your spine at her touch; you’re sweltering and freezing all at once, watching her eyes rake over you with a hunger you’ve never seen on her before. Her fingers draw idle circles around your clit as she works her way down your body, leaving a trail of wetness in her wake where tongue meets flesh, nipping at the precipice of your hip bones, glancing up at you before she licks you through your panties. There’s no helping the whine you turn free when she all but purrs at the taste she gets of you from the soaked fabric.

“Larissa, please,” you huff, lifting your hips up to meet her mouth. She takes three steps then in quick succession: chuckles into the skin of your inner thigh; pulls your panties down and off of you; and presses a series of messy, teasing kisses to your bare sex. Your fingers clutch at the top of your duvet as she finally begins to devour you, breath hitching as her tongue circles your entrance and delves into you. In a moment of white hot desperation, you hook your legs around her, calves flexing against her back as you shudder into her touch. She’s ravenous, consuming you with long, uninterrupted strokes that ride on the flat of her tongue, lapping your slickness up and winding into you all at once. The coil is tight within you already, pulsing with every movement of her mouth. You’re almost worried it’ll be over before it scarcely has had the chance to start, but a quiet, bemused voice in the back of your mind ridicules you: Larissa is nothing if not generous.

“You taste divine,” she breathes, before returning her ministrations to your clit, sucking and popping with the filthiest fucking moan you’ve ever heard. The feeling of her tongue against that tight bundle of nerves prompts your eyes to roll back, eyelids fluttering, and imbues your hands with a mind of their own, working them swiftly into her hair and pulling her as close to your cunt as you can get her, hips lurching in an unsteady rhythm. You can feel her amusement at your desperation as distinctly as you feel her mouth, but it’s quickly forgotten when she slides two fingers into you with an ease that makes you lightheaded. The sound of your wetness is sinful, and you have to admit it only spurs you on.

“Fuck me, fuck me, pleasefuckme––” Larissa’s grinning against you as she pumps her fingers, curling into you with a startling accuracy that leaves you breathless and aching. You press your cheek to your shoulder in a feeble attempt to keep yourself above the threshold dividing pleasure and bliss, useless as she slips another finger into you and flicks her tongue against you, quickening her pace as she follows the mounting tone of your pleas. Every touch spreads a warmth through you impossible to ignore, stirring a frantic need beneath the surface of your skin.

“Cum for me, darling, cum for me, that’s right.” Larissa presses the heel of her hand into the space just below the swell of your stomach and the coil snaps suddenly, sharply, sucking all of the air out of you at the same time that you yelp and tense with equal force, clamping around her face as your orgasm tears through you. She continues to lap at you even as your hands push at her, holding fast to your thighs to keep her place. Your legs shake as she builds you up in the same breath that you’re coming down, a second orgasm already rearing its head.

“I can’t,” you keen, but Larissa shakes her head and unlatches briefly to disagree.

“Yes you can, Y/N––be a good girl for me.” It washes over you when she lowers her face again and wraps her lips around your clit, sucking with an unfazed firmness that shocks you to your center. You’re tingling over every limb, pacing your breaths to ride you through this second crest. “That’s it..” Larissa coos, running her hand over your leg comfortingly. You can hardly breathe as the shockwaves roll through you one after the other, and the darkness of the ceiling above you seems to double in size as you stare in a daze.

Your muscles melt into the mattress one by one, sinking deep as Larissa finally pulls her head away and crawls forward to kiss you; you can taste your slickness on her tongue, familiar and tangy. When you part, gasping for air, you wrap a hand around the back of her neck and press your foreheads together, gazing up into her eyes with the softest look you can muster after so thoroughly falling apart in her hands.

“My turn?” She laughs loud and heartily at your doe-eyed demeanor. You’re itching to touch her, to taste her, and she knows it.

“Mmm, maybe.” Larissa shrugs and rises up from her position over you, sliding off to the side of the bed where you can’t reach her––and not for lack of trying. A whine catches in your throat when she shoots a withering look over her shoulder, patting the space beside her. “Help me with my dress, darling.”

You waste no time in flipping over onto your knees, shuffling over to her and grappling with the zipper of her dress. You flush when she laughs both at your inability to get it down in one swift motion and the frustrated little growl that bubbles up from your chest.

“Not funny,” you complain, gritting your teeth as she shifts and the zipper gives, revealing the smooth, snowy expanse of her back. Instilled with a renewed sense of hunger, you push the fabric away from both of her shoulders and continue the journey down and around to her breasts, thrilled she’s forgone a bra tonight as you palm the supple flesh there and roll her nipples between your fingers. The sigh she expels is a ragged one, her hands dwarfing yours whilst her head falls back against your shoulder. You revel in the sight of her lip caught between her teeth.

“I want to fuck you.” You just barely catch it in between her labored breaths and your own thunderous heartbeat, but you do, and you turn to glance at her curiously before her meaning hits you square in the face.

“But––”

She cuts you off. “I want to destroy you, Y/N. You can taste me later,” Larissa mutters, pivoting without another warning and capturing your lips again. You wouldn’t complain if it weren’t for the utter distress you felt to get your hands on her. She doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, however, as she slips out of her dress and climbs over you, guiding your hands to grip her ass. “Later, I promise.” She pulls back to appraise you, taking a rigorous inventory that she’ll commit to memory if it’s the last thing she does: Your flushed skin, the way you can’t keep still under her touch, the unmistakable shine of desire in your eyes.

“In th-the nightstand,” you stammer. Suddenly the realization that Larissa is here, in your bed, and you, at her mercy, is too much at once. You’re trembling with need and anticipation. She tilts her head at you, one second, two passing before she follows your guidance and pulls the drawer open, grinning wickedly at what she finds there.

“Harness?”

You nod vigorously, propping yourself up on your elbows and directing her through another drawer of your dresser. The slow, methodical way in which she fastens the leather around herself surely burns itself into your brain, and you can’t help the shameless moan that seeps out when she smooths an indulgent layer of lubricant along the silicone from base to tip, a delicious sight between her legs.

Larissa approaches with an emphasized swing to her hips, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to your lips before she nudges you to scoot back into the middle of the bed, positioning herself above you with a hand on either side of your head. She dips her face down into the hollow of your throat.

Her voice vibrates against you despite her hushed tone. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

Your brain short-circuits at her words, imperfect timing. God, she’s fucking hot.

She lifts her head again to catch your gaze and smirks, nibbling on the tip of your chin. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, I’m ready,” you rasp, drawing your nails down the broad expanse of her back in anticipation.

The moment she slides into you is pure ecstasy: your toes curl and you haphazardly clamber for purchase upon her skin as she buries herself deep within you, stalling for a few moments to give you time to adjust. The way Larissa groans into the motion draws out an amusing - filthy - rumination about her being able to feel every stroke as with her own body, delighting in your wetness. She fills you seamlessly, snapping her hips against you before slowly drawing herself back, only to repeat the pattern and plunge into you as deeply as she’s able. It’s bruising and pleasurable all at once, how she brushes up against your walls and the ridges of the toy hit what your mind insists is every nerve-ending within you.

You rock together desperately, bodies moving as one as if you’d been doing this for centuries, mapping each other out and bringing each other to your peak. You savor the novel, tangled scent of sweat and arousal, a newly formed association with the sound of Larissa’s broken whimpers now frozen in your psyche.

A startled breath leaves you as Larissa abruptly anchors her weight to one side and pulls you on top of her, flipping your positions. Her arms wrap tight around you, looped at your back and around your shoulder as she fucks up into you at a crushing pace. You whine into the crook of her neck and realize you’re on the verge of tears, an overwhelming wave of pleasure and desperation wracking your body. Quiet grunts accompany her each thrust, slowing just so until it’s a steady pattern you can count to like clockwork, brutal and sharp at every buck of her hips. Your knees are aching, folded as they are, but the tight, coiling sensation within you overrides any and all discomfort, merely a quiet nagging in your brain; your focus is settled precisely on the angle of her cock and how her nails dig into your skin as you grind against each other. She’s close, too. You can feel it. It’s there in the shallowness of her breaths, in the urgency of her pelvis against yours, in the subtle arch of her back. You try to meet her where she’s at in your muddled state, pitching your hips backwards and down when she thrusts upwards––and you know it’s worked when she gasps and her hands scramble to lock together at the small of your back.

“Yes, that’s it darling. Just like that,” Larissa pants, using the leverage of her hold on you to help you fuck yourself. The only sounds permeating the room are that of your mingled breaths and her cock driving into you with a consistent, almost unforgiving rhythm.

“Pleasepleaseplease, ohfuck––”

“Y/N–––”

She tenses with you and cries out as your orgasms hit you both at once, ravaging you beyond reason. You’re hyper-aware of the way her breasts feel pressed against you, the way one of her hands flies up to bury itself in your hair as you ride her through your climax. Larissa’s hips stutter as she whines into your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you, and you marvel at the feeling of her muscles clenching around you, from the sinewy stretch of her arms to her thighs rested between your own.

Everything you’d hoped for. Fantasized about. Greedily deliberated again and again whilst watching her across the table in another fancy restaurant in another unfamiliar town.

Larissa is careful as she pulls out of you, slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tenderness there. You remain curled on top of her but she doesn’t complain, rather rubbing your back in long, languid movements and whispering affirmations in you ear, a sweet mixture of ‘breathe darling, I’ve got you’ and more headily, ‘you did so well for me, you’re so good, you took me so well’. When you allow yourself to fall to the side of her, she shimmies out of the harness and tosses it somewhere off the edge of the bed, ignoring its clatter as she wraps you up in her arms. You burrow yourself further into her warmth and sigh at the feeling, content.

“Now is it my turn?” you ask, voice low and raked over with exhaustion. The belly laugh she gives is worth all the weariness in the world. “You’re incorrigible!”

#i also tried not to dive too deep into any specific kinks since there was no request for any #i think what i’m gonna do is add to my masterlist what kinks i will and won’t write and go from there!#that way ppl can request as they please :)#if anyone has any constructive/technique-specific comments on the smut pls send them my way!!#i have a tendency to be super explanatory/forward in a way that i don’t think always works for smth so intimate #so i’d love any help i can get!#ANYWAYSSSSS enjoy #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x f!reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #answered (request)#wasjustred

2K notes · View notes

pitifulbaby · 5 months

Text

Battle Of The Bands

summary: most people do rather traditional gender reveals, but how does a couple who aren't traditional do one?

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnancy, eddie has some big feelings, day million of alice not knowing how to do warnings, probably bad writing

a/n: i have been trying to write this for honestly wayyyy toooo long, longer than i should have but! i hope you enjoy this! thank you to the ever so cute @eddieschains for helping me with this! i hope you enjoy! 3.5k words

stranger things masterlist

Parties were never your favorite thing, the crowds were always rowdy and the smell of cheap beer and weed seemed to linger even after you left. But you never minded smaller parties- more so just a friends and family get together. Sure at times they could get loud, but it was never as intense as other parties.

In an odd way you compared it to a spider, the bigger a party gets the more uncomfortable you are, much like a spider. Small spiders are bearable, but as they get bigger? Nope.

So never did you think you would ever have a gender reveal party, you figured if you had kids you would always just find out the gender through an ultrasound, and that never seemed to be a problem for you. It had been Eddie’s idea to do a gender reveal party. He wanted your child to get to experience things he never got to- even if it had to start way before the baby was here yet.

You don’t blame him because you were the same way, you both grew up with hardships and not getting to have things other kids your age did. So you both vowed to give them as much as you can. You two were already obsessed with the baby, only being five months into your pregnancy.

The baby wasn’t fully planned, but that doesn’t mean you two weren’t welcoming the baby with open arms. Things happen for a reason, some good and some bad. But this seemed to be a good thing. Sure you both were rather young to be starting a family, but you two loved each other more than anything in this world, so you knew things would be okay.

Eddie searched for all the ways people reveal the gender, cutting into a cake with the inside being blue or pink, opening a box to reveal balloons, popping those powder poppers, but Eddie thought those were boring and overdone, and truthfully you agreed with him. Maybe it was because those were rather traditional reveals and you two were probably the least traditional in anything. And finally the idea came to him.

The two of you often shopped at thrift stores or garage sales for things, mostly going shopping there for clothes for either of you- wanting to save money to buy brand new things for the baby. Currently your normal clothes just didn’t fit right anymore, some of the oversized shirts you owned still fit, but anything else was just too tight on your stomach that was housing another human. The thrift store you two often went to the most was smackdab in town, a mixture of modern and vintage things mingled into one shop. It was pretty big for a locally owned thrift store, with a section for clothing, furniture, books and movies, and well, everything else you would find at a place like goodwill, but with much nicer things for lower prices.

You were both looking through the maternity clothes, your brows furrowed as you tried to find something you liked. Eddie stood next to you, his hand on your lower back and rubbing soft circles against the fabric of the shirt you wore- that was also one of his shirts. Your gaze wandered over each and every clothing item you looked at, asking Eddie his opinions on whatever you pointed out. He gave you his honest opinion, which was that you would look good in anything, everything and even better in nothing. To which you would either scoff, roll your eyes, feel flustered or all of the above.

After managing to find a good bit of things you liked, you two decided to head to the front to check out and pay. The owners of the store were an older couple, but today it was just the wife running the store. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the younger couple, she knew you both by name- always raved about how you were both her favorite customers.

“Hey you two!” Her voice was cheery, a bit worn from years of smoking and just being as she was older, a southern drawl laced through some of the words she spoke.

“Hi Mrs. Mabel,” Eddie replied with a smile, placing your clothes on the counter. The elder lady simply rolled her eyes at Eddie, smacking his arm softly, “I told you to stop adding ‘Mrs’ to the beginning of my name, makes me feel old and I already feel one foot in the grave.” Mabel scowled at the boy, which only caused you to laugh and lean against Eddie ever so.

Mabel started to ring up the clothes that were priced amazingly low, smiling at the two love birds in front of her. “How have you been feeling, Mom?” She questions, eyes landing on you and letting her gaze shift to your swollen stomach. You simply let out a soft groan at her question, leaning more against Eddie as the woman lets out a snort of a laugh. “I get it honey,” She replies with a soft smile.

The rest of the transaction goes fast, her quickly ringing the clothes up and bagging them. Before you two leave though she turns to Eddie. “This is a bit random, but someone dropped off this guitar and it's rather banged up so we aren’t going to sell it. Do you want it?” She questions as she brings up an older looking, wooden acoustic guitar. There was a large water stain on it and it looked like someone went to town on it with markers and crayons. There were scratches on it and one of the strings was snapped.

As Eddie looks at the guitar, you could almost see the lightbulb going off above his head, a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “You sure?” He asks, in which she simply nods, “You would be doing me a favor.” She says handing over the guitar. He grabs the neck of the guitar, “Thank you.”

Once you two were seated in your car, Eddie seated in the drivers seat and you in the passenger, but before driving away he turns to you with a big smile. “I figured it out.” He says, a sense of pride evident in his voice. You arched a brow at him, leaning back against the seat and after moving the vents to blow air directly at you. Your head is turned to him, staring at him. The car is silent, which is much different from when you first get in his van and he puts the keys in, music usually will blast out- but he doesn’t play the music super loud in your car. It's always turned down to a respectable level.

You two blink at one another for a moment before you finally speak, “Are you gonna tell me what you figured out or do I have to guess?” You ask with a cock of your head, Eddie blinks and lets out a small laugh, “Sorry, got distracted looking at you.” Somehow his smile manages to widen as he speaks. You roll your eyes to try and hide how flustered his words made you, feeling heat rise in your chest. “Stop it,” You manage to get out, words breathy.

“No sweetheart, I’m not gonna make you guess. I figured out how we are gonna do the gender reveal.” Eddie’s words are sickeningly sweet, leaning over the console to press a kiss to your lips before he is seated normal and driving the two of you back home.

Though you never enjoyed parties, you couldn’t help but be excited for this one. Nancy had helped you and Eddie plan the whole thing, letting you two come up with the ideas and came up with a few herself, and then she would help get the things needed. Since you and Eddie were far from traditional, you two planned it all differently than a normal gender reveal. The dress code was simple, if they thought you were having a girl you wore red, and if they thought you were having a boy you wore black.

The party was being hosted at yours and Eddie’s home. Though the dress code was black and red, you two kept the other stuff the traditional blue and pink, only for the fact that it's rather hard to find baby items for parties in black and red.

Nancy had come over at around 10:30 in the morning to help finish setting everything up. She came wearing an outfit that didn’t correspond with either red or black because she was the one who knew if it was a boy or a girl. Nancy was given the gender in an envelope, the ultrasound technician writing the gender of the baby down and sealing it up for you to give to whomever. So she was tasked with knowing.

Though the set up was simple, it screamed you and Eddie. Pink and blue guitar picks decorating the table, balloons shaped like music notes, lots of sweet treats and salty foods, you had gotten a cute journal and put it on the table for everyone to either sign their names or just write something sweet for the baby to read when they got older, and then a sign on the wall that said;

“Battle of the bands! Cast your vote, BLACK Sabbath vs RED Hot Chilli Peppers!”

The black was colored blue and the red was pink, and to cast your vote all you had to do was write your name on a little music note sticker and stick it under the respected side of the ‘band’ you were voting for. There were some other little things here and there, but the thing everyone was here for was of course, the reveal.

Eddie had thought long and hard about how to go about it, but the day Mabel gave him the old guitar that was honestly needing to be trashed, he knew what he had to do. Eddie explained to Nancy to get that colored powder that they use in the gender reveal videos, stick a bunch of it in the soundhole in the body of the guitar and then seal it up so none of the color seeps out.

And then it would be simple, the guitar would be smashed and the color would fly out.

Eddie had given you the opportunity to smash the guitar, but you told him you thought it would be better if he did, and after a bit of back and forthing he finally agreed to be the one to smash it.

The party was in full swing, it was full of your closest friends, the people who you thought of as your family. You weren’t close with your biological family, never really were. You were always the outcast, the black sheep so to say, of the family. And truthfully you can’t remember the last time they tried to contact you, so you never contacted them. So they weren’t invited to the party.

The only person Eddie was truly in contact with in his family was his uncle Wayne, who was Eddie’s saving grace. So he was the only blood family there.

Then of course there was the rest of corroded coffin, plus the other close members of the hellfire club. And then the other members of the close, tight knit family you created.

Eddie was glued to your hip for most of the pregnancy, and today wasn’t any different- and to some others it would be annoying, but truthfully you didn’t mind it. Maybe you two were in the honeymoon phase, but it had been like this since you two started dating when you were both sixteen. But you were both now freshly twenty three, so perhaps this was just gonna be how you two would always be.

A gentle hand was rubbing up and down your back, your lover letting you lean into him as you stood talking with Wayne.

Wayne Munson was a wonderful man, a hardheaded gentleman with a heart of gold. He never doubted that either of you could take care of a child- though you knew he kinda hoped you two would’ve waited a little later in life. But, he was happy for you both and excited to be a grandfather, though he joked and said he was too young to be one.

“Now you tell me if this boy isn’t helping you, alright?” Wayne spoke, a southern twang laced in his words as his hand reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a small shake. His words caused you to laugh and Eddie to groan, “Wayne-”

“He is very helpful, wont let me do anything myself.” You said with a bright smile, enjoying seeing Eddie embarrassed. But before the conversation could continue, Nancy was wandering over to the three of you, a soft smile on her face as she reaches a hand and places it against your arm. “You guys ready?” Nancy had told you guys to stay inside while she set the rest of the stuff outside, planning to do the reveal in the driveway.

“You ready to smash a guitar?” You said as you turned to Eddie, you weren’t surprised to see him already looking at you, he pouts softly. “It's gonna feel like I'm committing a sin, but yes.”

In truth he was scared as hell, not for the fact of smashing a guitar, but knowing the gender. It’s not that he wants one more than the other, it was more so the fact that the moment he knows what it will be will be making it that much more real. He was excited to be a father, but he still had that lingering fear of fucking up the kids life. He didn’t want to turn out like his dad, and it feels like everyday that passes the memories he had with his mother become more hazy.

He had Wayne and he was the father figure he needed, but he still had that anxiety that no matter what, that it would happen. No matter how many times you reassure him he can’t help but wonder, what if it's just in his genetics? What if sometime down the line something in him switches and he becomes a carbon copy of his father?

But everytime you look at him with that smile, each time he feels a kick, looking at the sonogram, that fear seems to slowly start to fade.

Moments later the gaggle of your found family is crowded in the driveway, Eddie holding the guitar carefully as his gaze finds yours. Jonathan was in charge of recording it all, which he had no problem in doing so, Nancy was stood by a radio, shoving a cassette tape in and soon Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses was playing through. The song causes Eddie to laugh, his grip on the guitar tightening as he holds it safe and nearly doubles over in laughter, which in turn causes you to laugh at his enjoyment.

Neither of you were expecting the song choice, but boy was it welcomed.

Once again Eddie was looking towards you, “Ready?” He yelled out to you over the song, placing the guitar over his shoulder and gripping the neck tight. Your left hand went and rested against your stomach, nodding with a bright smile. “C’mon! I wanna know what I’m growing!” You soon exclaimed back, you knew no matter what gender you were having you would be happy, and you knew you sounded like most every parent out there when you said all you wanted was for the baby to be healthy, but it was true. That was all that mattered to you, that the baby was happy and healthy.

With a playful eyeroll Eddie was then rearing back the guitar before smashing it against the concrete. And with the single smash the neck of the guitar snapped off, causing pink powder to puff out of the body of the guitar and settle against the ground.

Eddie is then letting go of the broken neck, jumping for joy as he hollers excitedly. You, of course, were an emotional mess. The moment the color appeared the tears pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks. Everyone around you was screaming and cheering, but they got tuned out the moment the gender was revealed.

It didn’t take a second longer before Eddie was sprinting towards you and taking you into his arms. A second later he was pulling away, resting his hands against your cheeks. “We are gonna have a baby girl!” You sobbed out, hands grasping the sides of his shirt. His only reply was an excited laugh, pressing his lips to yours- but it was difficult to kiss as you two smiled so intensely.

The kiss was interrupted as a pop! Sound was heard, which turned out to be Gareth and Dustin popping streamers over you and Eddie. The male pulled you into a hug once again, pressing kisses to your forehead as your friends swarmed over.

“I told you guys it was gonna be a girl.” You heard Max say to Dustin and Lucas, her arms crossed over her chest as she smirked at them. “I should’ve bet money on it.” She added, which made Dustin roll his eyes and Lucas to shrug his shoulders.

The rest of the party seemed to settle after that, the younger hellfire members helping clean off the driveway- which was just hosing down the driveway. Everyone chatted for a bit before starting to leave, not before giving the two of you a hug and words of congratulation. Nancy, Jonathan and Wayne had stayed back to help clean, there wasn’t much to clean and you know it wouldn’t take long for you and Eddie to do it, but they took the chores upon themselves.

Each and every single time you tried to help you were just shooed away, which in a way you were okay with- you had been on your feet for quite some time today and you were really feeling it now.

Wayne ended up staying the longest, helping Eddie make the three of you a nice dinner before he decided it was time for him to head back home, leaving with a kiss to your forehead and a soft smile. Eddie had walked Wayne out to his truck, which you knew that they would be outside talking for a good while. So while they were outside you had gotten yourself ready for bed, laying under the downy soft comforter with a book.

Eddie had wandered back inside almost half an hour after he walked his uncle out, a tired glaze in his eyes and his features relaxed. He locked up the house before stepping into your shared bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of pajamas- which consisted of an old pair of sleep pants and a shirt he cut the arms off. Once he had gotten under the covers he was propping himself up on his side, gently taking your book from your hands and putting the bookmark in.

He placed the book on the side table before settling back where he just was, his free hand nudging up your cotton sleep shirt and resting upon your bump. You two just laid there and stared at one another for a moment or so, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You could feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, letting yourself curl into Eddie. “Oh honey,” He cooed softly, laying back flat on the bed and taking you with him. Your arms wrap around his torso as you rest your head against his chest- not fully laying on him, more so half on him. “What's wrong?” He asked quietly, “I don’t mean to cry,” You start with a sniffle, “I’m just, really happy.” Your words were sincere, giving Eddie a squeeze as you spoke. With a small laugh he is pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Me too, a baby girl. In just four more months we will have a daughter.” Eddie spoke with awe in his voice, his hand starting to rub your back while the other one takes a hold of your hand and rests it against his chest. Your tears had subsided, more so just watering up but they never fell. You find yourself relaxing as you listen to the thud, thud, thud, of your lovers heartbeat. Feeling any tense muscles in your body ease up as your eyes slip shut.

“We are gonna have to come up with a name, and we still need to paint the nursery- how is it that nine months feels so long but, fuck, its going by so fast.” Your words were slightly slurred as you felt the tug of sleep pulling at you, “I still think that Ozzy is a kickass name.” Eddie said after a few moments of silence, causing a laugh to bubble up, moving your hand from his hold and reaching over and gently pinching his nipple.

“Hey! Stop- what if I gotta breast feed?” Eddie nearly squeals, using his now free hand to cover his nipple. “You grabbing my nipples is how you got pregnant.” He grumbles, “If I remember correctly it was the other way around.” You retorted back, “Also, if you somehow magically start producing milk, I am taking you to a doctor.” Was the last thing you managed to say before sleep finally took hold of you.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x pregnant reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader

211 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 [Part 1/Intro]

In which Jungkook has never fallen in love before- not until you came along, at least.

Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Munchkin Cat!Reader, Siberian Tiger!Jungkook, DDLG aspects but they're very mild in this chapter, Daddy!Jungkook, height difference, strangers to lovers, mild Angst, Fluff!, quiet!Reader, Model!Kook, mentions of death & grieving (but only brief), romance, manhandling, strength kink (implied), biting, hybrid behavior (scenting, marking, grooming and other)

Legth: Long ~7K words

Additional Content: None (yet)

A/N: Dinner is served, but split into multiple courses cause tumblr app can't handle this buffet.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"And this is where most level 4 hybrids usually reside, plus a few of the more social level 5's." The CEO explains, walking into the large hall together with Jungkook and his management.

He's a little upset at some of the things he's seen until now - so many of his own kind kept in a place like this simply because they're alienated by society. "Older hybrids above the age of twenty-one statistically stay permanently in housing, so once they reach that age, they don't have to wear any identification within the facility here." The man explains further, motioning towards some hybrids who sit at a table without any collars on, some eating, others talking.

"Would it be possible to involve some of them into the campaign?" Jungkook's manager asks, while he himself takes a look around, hands in his pockets. It's not often that his hybrid senses notice anything at all- having become more or less 'dull' from lack of use, really, since he's mostly surrounded by humans in his daily life. He's not around hybrids often, so today, it's quite overwhelming.

In an exciting way though, weirdly enough.

Jungkook and his management had been thinking and planning such a campaign to raise awareness and money for hybrid care for a while now. As a hybrid himself, he's pretty vocal about his opinions on certain topics- though, of course, he can't always say what he wants to in order to stay 'brand safe' down the line.

"I wouldn't recommend it, honestly. You know, most of these-" The man motions towards the table where Jungkook can spot a very short-looking cat hybrid, sitting by herself alone with her head on the table, legs swinging around as they fail to reach the floor from the height of the bench. "-Are, like I said, either 4 or 5 on the scale, so they probably won't understand what you want them to do." He chuckles.

"What about her?" Jungkook asks, nodding towards where you sit at the table, wearing a simple cotton dress, socks and no shoes, fluffy hybrid tail hanging almost entirely unmoving down to the floor.

It's unnerving to him. As if you're lifeless.

"Very good eye. I've seen her earlier- I think she could make for a very good contrast compared to you." The manager agrees- though the CEO clearly seems not on board with idea.

"I mean, she's got a pretty face, but that's really about it." He, in Jungkook's opinion, rudely comments, making him harden his gaze at the man. "Listen, when you run a place like this, you've got to stay realistic. She's got a lot of health and social issues and doesn't really respond well at all in general, so I'd suggest we look more into the other hybrids." He offers-

But Jungkook is an untamed tiger that rarely ever listens, so it's not surprising that he just decides to walk over to you to find out for himself what this is all about. Mainly because somehow, something feels off about this whole situation- and also, because there's an odd pull he feels towards you, like he's met you before but can't remember.

When he sits down next to you, with some distance of course, you sit up- looking at him for a moment, as if you're going through the same thought-process he had just moments prior. "Hey." He greets, waving his hand a little, unsure for a moment-

Until you smile, waving back, tail starting to move now. So much for 'she doesn't respond', he thinks to himself.

"You seem pretty bored." He asks you, getting into a more relaxed position next to you, his own tail curling over his lap- something you notice with interest, it seems like. "Is there nothing to do here today?" He asks, resting his head on his hand as his elbow is perched up on the table.

You shake your head. "Never." You answer him, and he pouts in sympathy. "I want to- hm.." You seem to think hard about how to voice out your thoughts. You stutter a lot, no matter how much you concentrate- and since the careworkers here get frustrated with your speech easily, you've taught yourself to talk more shortened to avoid stuttering. "Back home. I.. go to- no.." You seem frustrated now, and Jungkook chuckles- something you might mistake for something it's not, he realizes. "Sorry. I don't talk well." You offer, but he shakes his head.

"No no, you're completely fine, take your time." He nods, and you nod as well.

"Back home." You start again, and he nods, making sure you know he's following. "I took, speaking class..es. Classes." You explain, and Jungkook hums a reply, understanding what you're talking about. "But now.. not anymore. He says- I don't need. Them. Don't need them." You explain, your own hybrid tail now curling around you as well so you can hold onto it, a clear sign of self-soothing. "Because I stay."

"I'm sure someone like you has no issues finding someone to live with." Jungkook offers, and you seem to not take it seriously. "No, really. I know a couple of people who'd love to offer a place for an older hybrid." He shrugs.

"No. I stay." You tell him, almost with a disappointed undertone- a bell suddenly ringing, making you stand up and grab your empty cup from the table. "Uhm, thanks." You say as a form of goodbye, bowing politely to him- before you follow the other hybrids into a different area it seems, leaving him alone at the table until his manager finds him later.

Now he's definitely sure something's not right here.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The next day when he arrives, still a little sleepy, he doesn't spot you until he almost throws his stuff on top of you by accident. You're asleep in a corner, and a careworker immediately picks up on it. "I'm so sorry- she sometimes sleepwalks!" The lady apologizes, and before Jungkook can even say anything, she's already calling your name, shaking you awake. You don't even seem to realize what's really going on as the worker pulls you away- leaving Jungkook by himself, only trace of you left being a small flower shaped pillow he stares at for a moment. Your scent still clings heavy onto it- though there's a slightly burned bitter hint to it, a hint of something sad.

In a way, he doesn't know if he believes sleepwalking to be the actual reason here. His friend, Namjoon, owns a hybrid as well after all- and Jimin does this too, sometimes, because he doesn't like to sleep alone.

And later, when he's in makeup and the hybrids in the main hall close by are all eating breakfast, he's aware that the facility must be putting more effort into things than usual with him and his entire team present- because he's not stupid. A lot of the hybrids seem confused about certain things, while others flat out appear nervous and uncomfortable by the unfamiliar energy today, bad at hiding their behavior due to their lack of social understanding. Meanwhile you're almost falling asleep at the table, clearly not awake at all yet.

Or maybe you just didn't sleep well?

There's definitely something about you he can't explain. It's like there's a voice inside his head that's not his own that keeps feeding him ideas of what he could do. Maybe he could share his own food during his break with you? He also needs to make sure you get your pillow back at some point. Or he could take it home to have something of you with him-

"You've got an eye on the munchkin?" His makeup artist giggles as she does his hair. "Weird that she's here, isn't it? She doesn't seem like one that's hard to find a suiting home for." She mumbles, and Jungkook agrees with a hum. "One of the workers here told me the CEO denies all potential adoptions though." She shrugs.

"Why would he do that?" Jungkook asks, a little wary of the answer he might receive. After all, he's heard many horror stories of what goes on behind closed doors in some hybrid shelters.

"I mean, it's a rumor but-" She sighs. "-So her old owner was a retired hybrid specialist, right? He died of old age about two or three years ago, according to an employee I spoke with earlier." She explains, switching to a different comb to fix his hair into place. "But that's where it gets weird. Her old owner, right? Well he like, created a trust fund for her in case something was to happen to him, so she would be taken care of financially." She explains further what she's heard. "But, when she was given into the care of this center, apparently, the CEO took advantage of her grieving, and is now using the money for himself."

"Explains why he would want to keep her here." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself. "Because as long as she's here.."

"He can justify using the money to cover her expenses." She finishes for him.

"That's fucked up." Jungkook says. "Is there any proof of it?" He wonders, and she shrugs.

"Well the worker said she herself is pretty vocal about it. She knows what's going on- but no one believes her, because the CEO has her under file as a category 5 even though she's not." She tells him. "I mean, it's smart. Legally speaking, nothing she says would ever be taken into consideration because of that. I remember, my aunt has a 5 who witnessed someone getting assaulted near a grocery store when they went to Busan last year. But nothing he was saying could be taken as evidence basically because the legal system is so oddly structured." She sighs.

"It's a mess, isn't it." The model talks to himself mostly, phone in his hand as he spins it around. "I tend to forget how screwed up the system really is." He says.

"Well, a lot of people tend to forget you're part hybrid as well." She giggles, finishing up. It's true- while he's got his tail and his ears, he's become a pro at acting human- ignoring his own instincts in daily life to instead cater to the broader audience of the human world rather than appealing to his own kind. "Maybe this is all a good idea. An opportunity." She offers.

"Opportunity for what?" He wonders, and she shrugs.

"Who knows."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The more he observes and interacts with you, the less it makes sense to him how you could ever pass as a category 5 hybrid.

Sure, you've got some trouble articulating yourself, but you're also clearly aware of everything going on around you, you're very emotionally intelligent, you understand social concepts perfectly fine, and you're also pretty independent. You don't need much help with things others of your alleged category clearly struggle with.

He'd spotted you helping many of the other hybrids to button up their coats or tie their shoes (though he has to admit, your tying seemed like it was a pretty challenging task to you) or even collect the dishes and balance them perfectly fine to offer some aid to the kitchen staff at lunch. He knows what category 5 have problems with, they typically struggle with tasks like that. He's lived with one growing up, after all; the younger boy next door always coming over during the holidays because his parents were friends with his owners.

But you? No, you don't share much of those characteristics typical.

Maybe there really is some truth to those rumors going around.

"What're they doing?" He asks a janitor, who looks surprised to be acknowledged, before he watches all the hybrids as well as they all get dressed into outdoor-clothes.

"Oh, Every week they get outdoor activities, you know, to keep them healthy!" The elderly man nods. "Keeps the immune system up and running." He laughs, and Jungkook nods, agreeing. "You look like you want to go with them? If you ask Penny over there, she might let you tag along." He offers, and Jungkook decides, on the spot-

yeah, he wants to tag along.

So he finds his manager, tells him his plan- and leaves, before he can argue too much- though the man doesn't even attempt to do so, seemingly happy that Jungkook is growing friendly with you.

"Oh, careful." Jungkook says, holding the door for you as it almost closes behind another hybrid who'd forgotten to hold it himself. You look up at him, nodding, before you walk outside with him right behind you. "The janitor said you go outside every week." He attempts conversation, and you nod, in typical fashion, looking at the other hybrids in front of you holding hands as they walk behind each other in pairs.

All but you.

"You can hold mine, if you want." Jungkook tells you, and he can't help but grin a bit adoringly at the way you almost instantly take the offer, hand grabbing his as you hold onto it with confidence- your steps becoming a bit more bouncy as if boosted by his presence. It makes his own tail sway rhythmically with every step as well, especially when you all stop at a red light and he swears he can hear you purr under your breath, ears moving around to catch every noise it seems. "You're cute." He comments, and you look up at him with a smile.

"Thank you." You tell him, before you both follow the group of hybrids and the workers to a large field, most hybrids already running to get balls and other items to play with. "Do you.. sport?" You ask. "Like?"

"I do. I like sports a lot, actually." He nods, and you nod as well, watching the other hybrids. "You?" He wonders, and you huff a bit in disappointment, though you nod.

"Makes me.." Your hand goes to your upper chest, before pointing at it. "Cough." You try and explain and he hums in understanding.

"Asthma?" He asks, wondering if you know what he's talking about- and much to his surprise, you nod.

"I need, plastic..thing." You explain, hands gesturing as if to map out the inhaler as you're unable to recall the word in the moment. But the way he keeps reassuring you, keeps treating you so normally, makes you confident in communicating with him. "But- he says, no." You shake your head.

"The CEO?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down on the grass, leading him to do so as well, though he gently points to his lap for you to sit on. "So your dress doesn't get dirty." He explains, and you nod, happily taking your seat on his thighs. The purr he feels against his chest fuels his ego like nothing ever before, his tail wrapping around him and you to lay in your lap. "I heard he's.. doing some shady stuff."

"He takes.. money." You shrug. "But, hm." You just hum, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.

"What if you got an evaluation done?" He wonders, watching the other hybrids play with you. "To gain proof that you're not a category 5? That way you could go against him, no?" He asks, but you shake your head.

"Can't." You answer him. "Only owner."

"Shit.." He mumbles to himself, remembering as well. Only an owner can actually file in to get an evaluation done- and those things are expensive, not funded by the government at all. Without an owner, you're caught in the trap- and while caught in the trap, you can't get an owner. It's like the snake that's biting it's own tail; doomed.

And right now, he's got no clue how to help you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"But, let's say, technically speaking.." Jungkook starts to speak between bites of food, looking at Namjoon in front of him. "I'm barely a category 2, right? So, legally, I could own a hybrid." He asks, and Namjoon seems to think about it. Jungkook could in fact be counted as a simple category one if it wasn't for his ears and tail- but that might just be because these days, he's learned to ignore his instincts rather than embrace them.

"I mean, yeah, legally speaking, you can." He offers, nodding. "But like, why would you? You never had any interest in that." He asks confused, even a bit suspicious. Jungkook has been used for his kindness before, so the older friend tends to become wary of odd things asked.

"I think.. no, I found my mate. At the Seoul care center, where we're shooting the whole campaign right now." He offers, opening his can of beer. "And I want to get her out of there. There's some shady shit going on, and I don't want her to be caught in the crossfire before I pop that bubble."

"Jungkook, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all. Pop a bubble?" Namjoon worries instantly, putting his chopsticks down. "That's seoul central care we're talking about. Their legal team is crazy good." He argues, well aware of these things.

"I know." Jungkook nods. "But the evidence is better. Listen -" He shakes his head. "I won't personally be the one to do it. But some of the staff.. they've been talking. And for good reason." The tiger hybrid explains. "Someone is gonna blow that shit up soon, and I need to get her out before that happens. Considering what that guy has been doing already, I'm pretty sure he would, I don't know, send her overseas or some shit to avoid losing access to her money." He tells his friend.

"You know I can't tell you what to do, Jungkook." Namjoon offers, pushing his leftover food towards a sleepy Jimin, who silently starts to eat next to his owner. "But.. if things go south, I'll try and help best I can." he promises, making Jungkook nod in appreciation.

"Thanks."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It's safe to say that Jungkook is more than just friendly with you now.

He knows it pisses off the man that tries to present himself as a saint with realistic opinions on the modern way hybrids are handled- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook deep in his soul.

You're also a lot more vibrant it seems like, visibly perking up the minute he arrives at the center every morning to shoot his photos and small videos. It's adorable to see, really; especially today, when he offers you a new pair of boots, way better suited for you than the old worn down one's you kept wearing every time you went outside. They're of soft materials, pale pastel colors, fluffy accents on the sides, and your eyes widen in wonder at the sight of them. "I hope they fit. I bought those because they have laces- so you can adjust them if the size isn't perfect." He explains to you, and you nod slowly, holding onto them like they're some form of golden treasure.

You also continue to watch him during his shoot, clearly just as interested in him as he is in you at this point.

Staff has noticed, workers have noticed, his manager has noticed, and granted, everyone's pretty happy about it. You're seemingly a very nice fit, a good balance to the otherwise rather wild and untamed tiger hybrid known to sometimes act out of line. He's clumsy with his words at times, his actions often leading to consequences he's not thought of, though he never does anything will ill intend.

Right now, he's got you back on his lap, sharing a round cream filled donut with you, your tail going wild behind you as you enjoy the sugary treat. "Say, I've got a question.." He wonders, your ears turning on your head towards him, a clear sign that you're paying attention to him. "Would you like to.. you know, maybe live together with me?" He asks, and at that, you freeze, before you turn around towards him. "I mean it. I know, you think that might not be possible- but I want to try, at least, to make it possible." He explains.

"Busy." You tell him, before you watch his manager talk to some caretakers a little further away. "It's.. hm. Don't have to." You shrug, trying to grab the last bite he's holding in his hand, just for him to hold it out of reach.

"That's not an answer though." He teases. "You can also just.. I don't know- live with me as like, a foster situation maybe? Just to see if it would work." He offers, while you whine, reaching out for his food he'd been sharing with you until now, one of his arms holding you back securely while the other holds the last piece too far away. "Answer first, kitty." He hums close to your ear, making you freeze for a second as your tail swipes from side to side in excitement. He's so close now, and if he wanted to, a kiss would just be a tiny move now.

But he behaves himself. All in due time.

"Ok." You nod, because why not? He's nice, he's your mate after all, and you like him.

What could go wrong?

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He's still irritated. You don't deserve any of this.

He hopes he might be able to get the paperwork signed- and you out of this place as soon as he can. There's technically nothing speaking against it after all; he's a level 2 at the end of the day, his hybrid side a lot less dominant than in someone like you. And while it's made him feel like an outcast for a long time, feeling like he doesn't belong neither here nor there- looking at you now, his feelings have changed.

He feels glad, for the first time, that he's the way he is.

"If she's getting too much you can just tell her to go play or something." One of the workers tells him as she'd spotted him with you still somewhat laying on his thigh, his hand comfortably resting on your shoulder while you play with his rings on his other hand. "She tends to get clingy with anybody who pays attention to her." She snickers, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's really fine." He denies her, well aware that she's been eyeing him ever since he'd gotten here the first day, and he can't hold back on his next words. "I actually think she's cute." He smiles down at you, and your cat-ears twitch at that before you look up at him, making him laugh.

"I mean.. I guess? Maybe it's a hybrid thing that you like her." She shrugs, crossing her arms. "But she's gotta move soon, your manager told me they wanna take some more shots." She says with more bite to her tone now- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook.

He lets you rest on him for a little longer- until he pulls out something from his bag, brown paperbag containing a baked treat you know all too well.

He brings it every time, ever since you've told him you like it, after all.

"Nuh-ah." He chuckles when you instantly sit up and reach for it, turning his body a little towards you on the bench before he holds out the donut, testing the waters. And for his own amusement.

And much to his said amusement, you do exactly what he hoped you would.

Without thinking much it seems like, you lean forward to take a bite out of the sweet treat while he's still holding it- and he can't help but smile at the scene. You're so unaware of your own appeal, completely oblivious to how charming you are, and in a way, it makes him upset. You really are just a soft soul being used and nothing else- and he just feels like he's got to offer his protection.

Because you deserve it- and because he wants to be that protector.

Mostly because the connection you both have to one another is undeniable. Mates are an odd thing; but they're a real thing at the end of the day, and it's clear now that he's found his own in you.

You seem to have a moment of realization after the second bite, ears turning before your head follows as a worker says something Jungkook himself doesn't quite catch- but he knows he doesn't like it. "Hey- I'm over here." He tells you, and you look at him with a more shy expression now, almost embarrassed- letting go of his wrist as you sit back down on the bench, visibly uncomfortable. "Dont listen to them. I'm more interesting, am I not?" He teases to get your attention back, reaching out to wipe a crumb from the corner of your lips, making you smile a bit shyly to yourself.

You're so easy to catch.

"Why.." you start, seemingly thinking about your words. You do that a lot, he noticed- you either don't talk at all, or very quietly, and in a way, he's not sure if that's been something they pushed onto you in the carecenter here, or if you've always been this way. He wants to find out, that's for sure. "Why do you.. like me?" You ask, visibly unsatisfied with how you formulated that sentence. It's another proof of your difference in hybrid level compared to Jungkook.

But no matter, he will learn to understand you, until he no longer needs you to speak at all.

Jungkook simply shrugs at your question. "Maybe a mate thing. Maybe just because I like you." He answers. "I don't need to have a reason for it, though. You're a very sweet person, very likable." He tells you before he breaks off another piece of the donut, holding it out. "Now come on. Be a good girl and finish up, alright?" He teasingly tells you as he eats the other leftover piece himself, just to pull yours away from you when you reach out for it with your hand. "Nop." He chuckles, making you glare at him, tail swiping behind you from side to side, and he can't help but laugh at the scene, head thrown back.

Adorable.

Until he feels your lips brush against the tips of his fingers as you snatch the last piece of your treat from him, his gaze immediately back on you as you watch his reaction with a more challenging expression, and he can't help but be intrigued.

"I feel like it'll be a good idea. Jungkook!" His manager smiles, walking up to you both. "You've got her there already, perfect. We'd like to include her in the next few shots tomorrow, see how she does." He tells him, and Jungkook looks at you who seems visibly uncertain.

"You okay with that?" Jungkook asks, and you look at the camera set up close by with an almost fearful expression. "Dont worry. They'll tell you what to do, and I'll help as well. Or is it something else?" He asks, making you move to sit on the bench more properly, feet almost touching the floor, but not quite. He realizes what might be the problem when a staff member accidentally let's a brush fall to the floor, your ears instantly flattening for a short second from the harsh sound. "Ah- does the camera sound scare you?" And you nod at that, making his manager laugh a bit.

"Oh no, don't be scared! It's totally normal. Maybe Jungkook can show you how it works?" He says, before looking over at the careworker close to him. "My son has a hybrid too- he used to hate the sound of the microwave too until my son explained to him how it functioned." He chuckles. Jungkook remembers that. Namjoon and Jimin are an odd couple, but weirdly, they also fit perfectly.

"I don't think she'll understand that, but you can try." The careworker shrugs disinterested, clearly upset at Jungkooks lack of interest in her.

"Come on, let's have a look then." Jungkook simply tells you with no thought wasted on the woman, as he walks to the big cameras with you, Taehyung already looking your way. "Hey, can you maybe explain to her why the camera makes that noise?" Jungkook asks his friend, who nods at you.

"Its pretty loud, isn't it?" He tells you, and you nod- standing on the tips of your toes to try and see through the lens, but to no use. "You're so short!" Taehyung chuckles, and Jungkook can't help but be amused too.

"Hm, here, you can step on that." He offers, sliding an upside-down thick plastic bucket close to you to stand on; his hands instinctively on your body yo steady you as you step onto the container.

"Alright, so.." Taehyung starts to explain the camera to you, and Jungkook can't help but be thankful that his friend is clearly aware of the fact that you're not a stupid child- the photographer never oversimplifying anything, simply telling you the general mechanics to make sure you understand what's happening, that nothing is breaking or could cause any harm. And then the camera makes its distinctive sound.

Your ears still flatten for a split second, but your body makes no sign of being scared or surprised any longer. It worked.

"I can't turn it off, sadly. It's a mechanical sound, so there's no way around it." Taehyung shrugs towards his friend, and Jungkook simply nods.

"It'll be fine." Jungkook says, helping you down from the bucket as the manager says his goodbyes to the first staff. It reminds Jungkook of something in that moment he almost forgot. "Alright, go get your stuff now. I'll go change and then we can go, alright?" He asks, and you seem confused- until you seem to realize.

You're going home with him today. And tomorrow. And the day after, too.

Jungkook can't help but laugh when you dash off into the hallway to get your things, as he himself goes to change himself. He really hopes you'll like it at his place, hopefully enough to decide to stay- and if you do, all he needs are your papers signed and approved. He hates the way the system works, but he also understands it somewhat.

Even though it's clear that not everything goes exactly as it's meant to be.

But once you're with him, once he's got you safe, there will be no more of this. He'll make sure the world gets to know what's going on behind closed doors, having already discussed the plans with his management after all- and he can't deny his anticipation.

He can't wait to see that man lose all he's never even deserved to have in the first place.

But before he can even think any further about those things happening, you're pulling on the hem of his sweater to gain his attention, already dressed in scarf and coat and those fluffy boots he'd bought you yesterday- a lot better quality than those worn down things they'd given you. You deserve to be spoiled in his opinion, not tossed aside like you've been for God knows how many years- and he'll make sure that'll happen.

"Come on." He smiles at you, taking your bag for you as he walks outside the building to his car, opening the door. "We can sleep early or have some food delivered- what would you like?" He asks, getting into the car after you, the driver closing the door after him as he's finally seated next to you, seat belts clicking into place for the both of you.

You shrug as an answer, and he laughs, watching as you yawn, the tiger teasingly pointing his finger into your mouth- but he doesn't expect you to close it so quickly. While you don't bite down on it (at least not hard enough to ever really hurt), he still can't help but be affected by it. Especially when he pushes down on your lower lip, your tongue jokingly licking the tip of his finger, making him smirk at you.

Behind your innocent facade does slumber a tiny little tiger too, in a way, it seems like.

And he honestly doesn't know if he can handle having you around him like this for much longer, while not doing anything about it at all. He's already almost kissed you yesterday, and by now he knows you feel just as attracted to him as he does to you.

You're mates after all. Similar age. Technically in the same hybrid group. Nothing speaks against it.

And yet he's got to be careful. He doesn't want to end up breaking your heart if things don't go as expected- he'd hate leaving you devastated. And yet still he feels as if he'd die soon if he doesn't at least get to feel your lips on his- there's nothing wrong with at least a kiss, right? Maybe just a little further than that- his couch his comfortable after all, and he for sure won't be able to withstand the temptation of at least holding you close with you staying with him tonight. "Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? I can take the couch, no problems." He asks you to distract himself, ground himself again and get his mind off of things-

But then you visibly pout, ears drooping down a little as you look at him almost disappointed.

"Not.. with you?" You mumble, and his gaze focuses on you again, pupils dilated as he swallows thickly.

"I mean, I won't say no." He tells you, eyes never leaving yours. "But I probably should." He says, making you tilt your head in question. Though in your eyes, in the way they sparkle mischievously, he knows you're very much aware of the implications.

"You won't." You simply smile next to him, legs stretching and tail swaying from side to side, and all he can think of is brat. There's no trace of the shy little cat left it seems like right now, as you look at him all confident and almost challenging.

And yet, he can't disagree.

He won't say no.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He can't describe the feeling of watching you roll around on his couch, freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes.

You did an almost complete flip around from your usual behavior at the carecenter, right now completely relaxed, happily purring as you nuzzle the fabric of a pillow on his couch to cover it with your scent. You're so at ease, obviously feeling safe in his home, and it makes him incredibly proud, because that's exactly what he wants to provide to you.

A safe space.

"Happy?" He asks you with a chuckle, watching as you roll over, nodding at him while laying on your back.

"We'll stay home tomorrow, you know, to spend some time together." He informs you, sitting down close to your head. His hand is pushing into the couch next to your face, and you look at it for a second, seemingly very interested in the black bracelet he's wearing- before you grab his wrist, and bite into his arm.

It surprises him more than anything, thinking he might've come off too strong- but it doesn't hurt, and you're looking at him as if you're actually expecting a reaction from him. You're not trying to hurt him. You're not angry or upset in the slightest.

It's a love-bite.

"You are the most adorable thing-" He chuckles, grabbing onto your wrists to pull you over his lap and sit you up, "-I've ever met, you know that?" He flirts, looking at you, your tail swishing from side to side behind you in excitement, before your ears turn to the sides, flat outwards, as you wiggle out of his grasp, running down the hallway into your room.

He's laughing, entirely amused by your sudden zoomies, as you peek around the corner of your door, before you hide away again, this time running into his room instead. He's watching how you suddenly come dashing out, sliding over his smooth floor on your knees protected by your thigh high socks, holding onto the edge of the backrest of the couch he's sitting on, staring up at him with wide open eyes.

It sort of invites him almost, as his hands grab your wrists again, easily pulling you up and over the back of the couch, leaving you belly down on over his lap, his arms holding you down as he nuzzles into the back of your neck, making you laugh.

You like it when he plays with you like this- proves his strength to you, his capabilities of keeping you safe. Shows you that his physique isn't just for show and anesthetics.

"You know I like you, don't you?" He wonders, and you nod easily at that, turning over on his lap, trusting in the fact that he'll make sure you don't roll off- and he does in fact make sure you don't, carefully holding onto you, and even adjusting the hem of your dress for you. "How do you feel about that?" He wonders, and you shrug, hand reaching out to play with his necklace.

"Happy." You just state, your attention clearly not entirely on him but more on your chosen toy. He notices that, takes the pendant away from your hands before he throws it over his shoulder, effectively removing it from your reach. And you don't roll like that, fingers instantly pulling on the necklace at his throat to pull it back- though he now holds your hand in his.

"Eyes up here, darling." He says, and you pout, though you comply. "Good. Now give me a proper answer." He demands, and you stretch your legs a little before going limp again.

"Happy.. really." You nod. "You're.. my mate." You tell him, and he smiles, nodding.

"That I am." He agrees, looking down at your lips before his haze moves up to your eyes again. "And you're mine." He says.

"Am I?" You challenge, making his gaze sharpen as he notices your clear intentions as you wiggle out of his lap and instead of the couch next to him, feet pushing against the outside of his thigh.

And he easily takes on your little challenge, well aware that you're no match for him at the end of the day.

It starts as nothing but slightly tickling kisses, ends of his hair brushing over your skin and making you giggle, before be chuckles, and bites at your neck. It's a lot more gentle than you thought he might be- but it's also clear that he's simply playing with you, no intent for anything more right now.

He'd live to play with you like that as well- but all in due time.

Your tail smacks loudly against the leather of the couch, his antics fueling your instincts as your ears pin back. He wonders how much you can take- until you move as well, biting his shoulder, this time leaving a clear mark that tells him you're at your limit.

Cute.

"Now there's no question, is there?" He wonders, moving around with you in his arms to hold you, kissing his mark to calm you down. "Now you're mine." He hums against your skin, and you nod, his slightly rough tongue moving over the tender spot once.

He catches himself in the act, surprised at it. He's never done that before- never, not even in past relationships. He doesn't even know why he did that, it's a little weird, no? Sure, he's a hybrid, but he's mostly human. He's never attempted to.. Groom a partner like this before.

But you don't seem bothered- in fact, you're happily purring in his arms, relaxed and comfortable.

"Yours." You mumble sleepily, yawning before you turn to cling to him, rubbing your cheek against his shirt to get your scent on him.

And he can't help but curl his tail around yours, feeling like everything has finally fallen into place for him.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

450 notes · View notes

gaeasun · 8 months

Text

Cut Lawquane was absolutely a Commando

Ok, crazy theory time.

I think Cut Lawquane was a Commando, or least a Commander. But going with Commando for now. But I don't think he was a rank and file clone trooper.

All of the clone troopers i think should be shown as exceptionally trained, but Cut Lawquane showed incredible skill, even though we saw him compared to Rex the entire episode. Evidences are below:

A) Rex is both a Captain and one of the oldest of the CT's, but the entire time Cut acts as his equal and perhaps even elder. He doesn't talk quite down to Rex, but it reminds me of how people act when they're just a grade apart. Not like they know everything and the other knows nothing, but there is a definite difference between them. Also he instinctively recognizes Rex as a Captain, but is not phased by that at all.

B) He disables Rex, the Captain Rex, with a farming tool in zero seconds flat, and does it without hurting him.

C) He recognizes Commando droids, which are typically only used in special assignments. And he also knows that it takes a headshot to pierce their armor. On Rishi it was Captain Rex who recognized them and said they were brand new. So for Cut to already know exactly what they are, especially when he's been out of the war for months, at least implies he could have been on high stakes missions before right in the beginning of the war. Which is also why I'm leaning Commando instead of Commander, because it's more Commandos who go on missions while Commanders are still often with general forces.

D) He has a highly developed sense of individuality and creative thinking, which was encouraged more in the special forces than general troopers.

E) Cut also says, specifically, "everyone I cared about, my team, was gone." Commandos are specifically trained to work in groups of four as a cohesive team. additionally, with these commando units being so tightly knit, the feelings of complete loss could have played a large role in Cut's desertion.

F) Cut and Rex play a game of dejarik, and while the winner is not shown, by the end they're both down to the last piece, which shows that Cut is around Rex's level when it comes to strategy. And Rex is so good at strategy that Marshall Commander Cody, who the commanding officer of around 36,000 men, considered Rex to be one of the best they had in that regard. Not to mention that Cut is impressed with Rex too.

G) Cut has 3 blaster type weapons that are probably the weapons he had on him when he deserted: an older rifle, a blaster carbine, and a DC-17. Now, it makes sense for a farmer to own a rifle, and the blaster carbine is a general GAR blaster. but the DC-17 is the same blaster pistol that Rex uses, that we have only seen used by ARC Troopers, Captains, and Commanders.

H) This is probably the most obvious one of all, but Cut is an incredibly good fighter. Even our beloved ARC troopers Fives and Echo struggle to take on a few. Cut takes on 20 and lives (granted the droids are not top form but its still impressive). He makes three headshots in a row with his rifle in less than three seconds, and the next three kill shots are all headshots as well. he also throws a wooden rafter-beam off him (that might be dad-strength tho) and hits a metal droid with a wooden chair hard enough to break both of them. he also punched one of them in the face hard enough the droids eyes flashed red (and then slightly regretted it, but it didn't look like he broke his hand either).

I) Cut hadn't been fighting for at least several months, since he deserted almost right after Geonosis. so as incredible as his skills are, he had probably been even better before, so just think about that for a moment.

Edit: i forgot to put this in because it wasnt in The Deserter, but by bad batch he already has gray streaks and a receding hairline. guys an old teenager for sure

So, Cut is a highly trained and skilled fighter in both hand to hand combat and blaster combat, he's at least as old as Rex and is not intimidated by his rank at all, he was in a specific team and felt like everything had no meaning after they all died, he has the weapons of an officer, had seen enough of commando droids to recognize them and their weaknesses, is Rex's match in strategy and combat while being more independent.

All of this points to Cut being anything but a regular CT, and as far as I'm concerned he was absolutely a Commando.

#g gives a thought #cut lawquane #captain rex #the clone wars #tcw

262 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 4 months

Note

Hey! I appreciate your perspective on computer-based things. I think I need to get a laptop and would love your opinion on decent brands. If you don't have an opinion or want to answer please disregard the q.

Context: I'm often on the move and really want something small, light, and that will last a long time. I'm bad about buying new things or taking things to be fixed so ideally it's not something that dies quickly or needs frequent repairs. For a while I used an iPad for this but I need more of a keyboard than tablets have and the shelf life of an iPad is shorter than it should be for the cost. Mine is 7 years old and only works while plugged in... I liked my Macbook Pro I got for college but it's almost 15 years old and given I haven't needed a new one since I don't think spending all that on a Mac makes sense either. I use a gaming PC mostly but I'm going to need to travel a lot more in the upcoming year. I'm ok to spend up a bit since I want it to last.

I think you're going to have to adjust your expectations about the average functional lifespan of electronics. Seven years is a lot to get out of any tablet and fifteen years is way way way above average for a computer.

At work we estimate that the functional lifespan of a laptop will be around five years and the functional life of a desktop will be around seven years; we include upgrades in that lifespan, like adding RAM and storage.

It is not *unusual* to get more than five years out of a laptop or seven years out of a desktop, but if you are a heavy user of anything other than a browser and a word processor, that's about the time when you'll find that the computer feels slow enough to be frustrating. This isn't a hard limit, and it's not something that everyone experiences because people use computers differently, but if you're an artist and you use a drawing program that program will start to feel slow after a while because as updates and patches and drivers have been tweaked for newer devices they've slowly left your device in the dust.

This isn't planned obsolescence, by the way. Computer manufacturers try to "future proof" their devices to a certain extent, but you just can't anticipate certain kinds of changes. Maybe your laptop was manufactured before there were consumer SSDs available so its operating system doesn't take the advantages and limitations of SSDs into account. Maybe your desktop was built for DDR3 RAM and we're now on DDR5 and people aren't writing programs to the standard of the old technology, they're taking advantage of the standards of the new technology.

Since you were able to use your devices comfortably for such a long time, it sounds like you're not a very heavy user and don't need to worry too much about beefing up your specs. However it does sound like you want to keep your computer and use it as long as possible while paying a reasonable price for it (which is good! I think we should all try to extend the lives of our electronic devices as much as possible!).

I actually think you sound like a good match for a Framework laptop.

Framework is a company that makes laptops that are a lot more modular than what's on the market these days. They're mean to be easy to open up for upgrades and sturdy for heavy use. Most of the parts of the laptop are easily replaceable - including the screen - so you can use them for a long time and easily make upgrades that will help the computer feel fresher.

They're a bit more expensive than comparable PCs but much easier to repair if you aren't comfortable opening up your own computer (framework is intentionally built to be easy for people who are non-technical to work on their computers), and they are a LOT less expensive than comparable macs.

I still think you're probably looking at around 7 years of regular use out of a Framework and it won't *break* at that point, it will just. Probably be a bit slow and frustrating. You might not be able to get parts for it after a certain point. You eventually won't be able to upgrade the OS. But that's true of all computers.

I've still got my 2005 macbook. It still turns on, I can still use garage band on it. But it doesn't connect to the internet and uses such an old USB standard that it is extremely slow to transfer data on or off of and it cries and freezes if i try to use photoshop. It's not broken, it's just no longer useful as a daily computer.

What I'm defining as functional here is "Is able to run multiple programs (including at least one browser with 50+ tabs open and two office suites) at the same time for 8-10 hours a day without crashing, freezing, or losing data and restarting is not a major inconvenience."

In those terms, it does sound like you're probably in need of an upgrade (I can't imagine that your current machine is particularly quick) and I think that a framework laptop would suit your needs well.

If you're looking for something somewhat less expensive, you can generally find a decent thinkbook with a 12th or 13th gen i5 processor, 16GB RAM, and a 500GB SSD for around $700-ish, which is the low end of what I think you're going to pay for a decent laptop. I'm reccing lenovo here because I personally like them and have found them to be very easy to crack open for repairs and upgrades. Stick to the thinkbook over the thinkpad because that's the business line and is a bit sturdier and they are designed to be easier to upgrade over time.

Actually, here's a thinkbook with a 12th gen i5, 40GB RAM, and a 1tb SSD for under $700. That's a shockingly good price for that laptop; the reseller OEMGenuine is one I've purchased from many times before for work and I've found them to be reliable, though the reason those specs are so good is because they've added aftermarket parts, so your RAM and SSD won't be under warranty from Lenovo.

For Framework you're looking at at least $1000, but it's easy to plug and play with upgrades so you can start out with lower specs (except processor, don't cheap out on the processor) and upgrade later. The framework is a bit smaller and easier to travel with, but I have a laptop quite similar to the lenovo and it's not a huge pain to move around - it's very light but the 15" screen might be bigger than you're looking for.

If you're willing to spend a little bit more and you're very uninterested in doing your own upgrades and would prefer the most computer you can get for your money right out of the gate, this is a 12th gen i7 thinkpad with 40GB RAM and a 2TB SSD for $1150. (I've not ordered from this reseller before, so maybe check over their terms if you're considering purchasing from them.)

140 notes · View notes

professorhayforbreath · 3 months

Text

my blog probably gives the impression that i think the show is bad as a whole, but the reason this show frustrates me so much is because it's definitely NOT 100% bad

like... the movies are bad adaptations. everyone knows it. they have some great moments (an embarrassing amount of which are better than the show lol) but overall they are widely considered blatantly bad adaptations. it's easier to make peace with that

the show, however, is far less consistent and i find it much more difficult to wrap my head around. there are parts that are bad and i'm happy to say that with my chest, but underneath numerous questionable-at-best writing choices, there are glimpses of really, really good stuff. the first few episodes had so much promise—percy burning blue jellybeans and praying to sally, the consensus song. these are brand new additions but they're good, they capture the spirit of the story and characters successfully

and sprinkled throughout the rest of the show are other strong choices! for example in the last episode i really liked that they set the betrayal scene during the fireworks, it created a fantastic ambience. i liked that grover left camp at the same time as percy and annabeth so the three of them got to part ways as a trio on half-blood hill

there are good changes being made, but they're almost all small in the grand scheme of things. in my opinion, the bigger, more consequential things are where they missed the most marks, and that prevented me from fully enjoying the show as a long time book fan

when it comes to writing nothing frustrates me more than wasted potential. mediocre writing is one thing, but mediocre writing that could have clearly been so much better is INFURIATING. i don't dislike the show because i wanted it to be a 1:1 recreation of the book, i dislike it because it's just okay when it could have been great. it so EASILY could have been great and i don't get why it's not. a lot of the writing choices are just baffling in their mediocrity, and sometimes technical weakness, when compared to the well written and effective source material. i wish i could have been a fly on the wall in that writers room when they were making some of these decisions, seriously

the cast is phenomenal. their budget is more than sufficient. they marketed it as a "redemption from the movies", as the adaptation that would finally give fans book accuracy. and the show we got is... fine. it's all right. it's not all that book accurate even though it was advertised as such. there's plenty to like but it comes hand in hand with plenty to dislike. it's only natural for people to be disappointed

i know my critiques can come off as venomous but please never mistake my harshness as hating for the sake of it. i adore the original pjo books so i really wanted to adore the show as well, but unfortunately i can't get there yet. "yet" being the key word because there's still plenty of time for this show to pick up the slack, and for that reason i'm glad it got renewed. i don't have the most faith the writers will listen to the feedback but i'm rooting for them to prove me wrong

#going forward i'm going to try to be more diplomatic about this #i'm a cynic and a hater at heart <3 but even i'm annoyed by how much of a bitch i've been lately lol #pjo show crit #pjo tv crit #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo show #pjo tv show #pjo adaptation

106 notes · View notes

beyondthisdarkhouse · 1 year

Text

Feeling really nostalgic about July 17-18, 2008, the last time I believed in Joss Whedon

It was just cool, you know? Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog dropped in three separate pieces over the course of the week. We'd get 15 minutes of story, and then two days to froth over the whys and wherefores in Livejournal comments before the next piece came out. And those days were so good.

Buffy fans are so fucking smart, y'all. They could combine academic rigor with unselfconscious fangirl squee. Squee was a hermeneutical method, a mode of interrogating the text--one we often dismiss and diminish, because if there's anything grosser than teenage girls getting goopy over a vampire they like, it's 30 or 50 or 70-year-old women getting goopy over a vampire they like. But it's similar to what I've seen called a "redemptive reading". You approach a piece of media specifically looking for its best parts, the pieces you love the best, and you allow yourself to fully embody the joy of liking something and caroling your joy to other people who like it too. In a perpetually burned-out time, squee can be like a desert oasis.

So the people who liked Buffy and Angel and Firefly watched Doctor Horrible in a manner both squeeful and intersectionally feminist, and saw all the amazing interesting things it was doing, showing how insecure geek masculinity fundamentally self-sabotages the main character, Billy, because the relationship he wants has been there in reach for months, and it's his own perception that he needs to be an alpha male warrior that has kept him from it. It interrogated the entire genre of costumed heroes, with two men thumping their chests and comparing their dick sizes, and none of them doing anything as direct and helpful for their society as Penny, the woman who stands on sidewalks collecting signatures to help a homeless shelter.

Part II came out on July 17, and the series would end with Part III on July 19. So on July 18, I spent most of the day reading Livejournal comments about it. There were all these theories: Maybe Penny was secretly Bad Horse, the archvillain whose approval Billy has craved since the beginning. Maybe she will collapse the love triangle with Billy's rival, Captain Hammer, by acting on her clearly-demonstrated discomfort and dumping him. Maybe Billy will learn that relationships are based on intimacy, not being The Best. Maybe Penny will become a superhero and replace Captain Hammer as Billy's nemesis. Maybe Billy will succeed and rule the world and give Penny Australia.

And then... none of those things happened. Joss Whedon ended the series in a way less progressive, less imaginative, less cool, than even the most half-baked fan theory out there. The story opened up possibilities to break out of an old, tired, toxic set of stories around men and women and sex and heroics, and then hid under a rock rather than change a single one of them.

July 19 was the day I concluded that while Joss Whedon might have his own baggage to work through about toxic masculinity, and artists have the right to make work meaningful to them, he wasn't making art that was meaningful to me. And I basically stopped expecting anything of him.

And then, for years, Buffy fans, educated and squeeful feminists and sharp pop culture critics, got told they were crazy histrionic SJWs for thinking Whedon didn't shit solid gold. For years. (I recently saw a video essay that included the line, "If you have the phrase 'mewling quim' branded onto your memory, you probably need some Metamucil" and, ouch, rude.)

There was so much excitement! A lot of us actually believed in the guy (although even then, there was enough evidence for many people to suspect what we now know to be 100% true about him.)

We wanted it to be good. We wanted to enjoy it.

I miss that feeling.

#joss whedon tw #dr horrible's sing along blog

751 notes · View notes

your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 1 year

Note

Platonic!Yandere Batman!Damian with new young robin!reader headcannons (extra points if you include uncle Jon and the league somehow)

Platonic! Yandere! Batman! Damian Wayne x Robin! Reader

Damian Wayne x reader. Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader/ Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 5604 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, manipulation, adult Damian Wayne (based on Batman in Bethlehem), toxic family relations, obsession & Platonic yandere.

Okay, so I imagine that this all occurs at a time when Bruce has resigned and most of the others have moved on in some way, not only leaving Damian as the only one available and willing to take over the Batman cowl, but also making him impossibly alone. Desperate, abandoned and lonely.

Dick is busy with his life in Blüdhaven, (either married to Barbara or Koriand’r, maybe even with a kid), working primarily as a detective for the Blüdhaven police force. He’s juggling a career, family and, obviously, his vigilante patrols at night, so the time left to visit Damian is minimal.

Jason still occasionally patrols the streets at night, but he’s mostly out with Starfire and Roy, either playing uncle with Lian/Kori’s possible kid or doing Outlaws missions whenever Chesire/Jade Nguyen pulls herself together enough to take care of her daughter for a while. Jason is too busy getting his own life on track to even start worrying about Damian’s loneliness.

Tim is probably still in Gotham, although he’s also busy. He’s building his own life as well, either with Bernard or some other girlfriend/boyfriend of his. He’s probably busy renovating an apartment close to the manor, on top of Wayne Enterprise work and vigilante obligations, giving him no free time to come visit for leisure time. Sure, Damian communicates with him over the comms on a daily basis, but it’s not really the same as speaking to someone face to face. Not to mention that shouting orders, descriptions and coordinates probably doesn’t count as a proper conversation.

Alfred is probably dead. I know everyone always jokes that he’s immortal, but even if he was, no one can deal with the Wayne family for more than a single lifetime. So, whether he clocked out naturally or simply, using his all-mighty Alfred powers, just decided to let his life seep out of him like air in a balloon. Alfred is gone.

In Alfed’s place, Bruce has stepped up as a type of off-brand Alfred. He’s retired his superhero alias, and now only has his CEO duties to focus on, which would’ve been a lot for most people, but this is Bruce and to him, it’s too little. So he has learned to cook, hires people to clean the house, make the beds etc. and has, (through observing the best dry cleaners he could possibly hire), learned to wash clothes, attempting to emulate Alfred as some type of coping mechanism for his absence. That doesn’t mean he has the same emotional intelligence as Alfred, it’s still Bruce we’re talking about, but he has the practicalities down. So yeah, Bruce has become an elderly man. But since he still is good old Bruce, that also means that his emotional availability is practically non-existent, made in no way better by the fact that he shut himself in even more after Alfred’s passing and most of his children flying away from the nest. Bruce longs for the old times, longs for the comforting presence of Alfred and the jolly sounds of younger people chit-chatting. Yet, no matter how much Damian might attempt to engage in longer conversations with Bruce, it’s not happening.

If you have a hard time imagining how Damian would look like Batman, think of Batman in Bethlehem. He has exchanged the unhandy cape for the much more practical coat, which not only gives him a more serious appearance but also proves to be a great weapon against the Gotham cold, as well as leaving much more room for gadgets, weapons and, just like his father, a secret compartment for treats. He is a much more menacing and unforgiving Batman compared to his father, never letting a goon get away. He is thorough to the point of near-perfection, which is damn impressive, but it’s also draining on Damian, both physically and emotionally. His father had a horde of Robins, Batgirls and the sporadic extra orphan to aid him in his pursuit for justice, all Damian has is Tim, and occasionally Jason, the latter of which is slowly coming to the realisation that sustaining the same muscle mass as a cow for decades takes a toll on your joints.

So, even before Damian encounters you, he’s been in the search of someone to make the nightly patrolling of Gotham easier. Damian’s original intention hadn’t been to get a Robin. Actually, he considered “rescuing” an assassin from his mother’s army at the League of Assassins and reprogramming their mind through the various means that had been proven useful in war situations of the past… He did briefly consider asking Dick to contact M’gann for some “healthy” use of mind control. Yeah… Damian is not nearly as morally self-righteous as Bruce, another factor which has driven a wedge between the two.

However, then Damian met you.

I can imagine that you had recently moved to Gotham, either with your family or alone. You’re probably no older than sixteen at the time of your and Damian's meeting, so if you’re moving to Gotham alone, you’re probably going to be at Gotham academy’s boarding school. But no matter what, you happen to be a huge Batman and, ostensibly, Robin fan. You have posters hung on your wall and photos of you dressing up as Robin when you were younger. It’s not quite Tim Drake-levels of fanboy/girl/person, but you are a bonafide fan.

So, as a fan, you enjoy looking out into the Gotham night, spotting either Red Robin or Batman pass in the air with the wires of their gliders shining in the moonlight. It gives you a sense of safety, knowing that the city has its protectors. Like any other fan, you can’t help but fantasise about how it’d feel to be one of them. How nice it must feel to have the wind hit your cheeks as you zoom through the night sky, and how cool you’d look in one of those fancy superhero suits.

You have made multiple drawings throughout your youth of yourself as Robin or sometimes even your own made-up hero. You’ll prance around your room alone, listening to music, jumping from your desk chair to your bed to anywhere else with a flat surface, pretending that you’re a vigilante. Heck! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had begged your parents to send you to some type of martial arts as a kid. Begging, praying and practically kissing their feet until they oblige. That is, of course, if you didn’t have parents who had already sent you to karate/Jujitsu/you name it, before you yourself ever came up with that idea.

I can imagine that the day you and Damian’s ways cross, it’s while he’s out as Batman. For some reason you’ve been left alone to go home/to the academy in the late evening hours, (a recipe for disaster in Gotham). Maybe you had to attend some school-arranged art show/science fair/literature competition and the teachers hadn’t coordinated a way for students to come home/your parents had forgotten that you were out for the night. Whatever it was, you were scared and alone, walking through the streets of Gotham at night.

As will always happen in Gotham under such circumstances, a large shadowy man emerges from within one of Gotham’s many alleys. He’s neither quiet nor light on his feet, but he is big and the stench of piss, alcohol and decay attacks you before he even has the chance to. You might try to run, but his legs are longer than yours and he reaches you before you get anywhere. Huge grubby hands encase around your collar, heaving you up against a nearby brick wall, the rough texture cutting into the back of your head and back. You might try to use your martial arts knowledge to attempt to fend him off, and you may be successful. However, once you manage to make the man drop you, a swarm of similar-looking men emerge from the nearby alleys, alerted by the noise. They practically lick their lips at the sight of a young and defenceless school student, dumb enough to emerge after dark, it’s practically a Christmas gift for these degenerates. They surround you and you realise that you can’t fight them all, not at once. Your screams for help alert everyone in the neighbourhood, but none will come to your rescue, that’s just how Gotham functions. None…Except for Batman.

Damian hears your scream and within minutes the goons who attempted to attack you are on the floor, heads busted and limbs broken, some scramble away in fear, but end up with Damian’s grappling hook ripping a hole through their legs. The green-eyed Batman is surprisingly efficient, and it takes him no time to get you to safety, scoping you into his arms, as if you weighed less than a feather, and with his grappling hook, he flies through the air to the nearest rooftop. If you hadn’t been so traumatised and shocked by the near-death experience you just had, you might’ve been able to appreciate the experience of literally being saved by your idol. But alas you were, and the shaking of your limbs and rattling of your brain made you wholly unable to connect with reality.

Damian is patient with you, his glowed hands trace your back as you slowly gather your breath, and once the worst shock is out of your body, he reaches into his breast pocket, where he pulls out a lolly, offering it to you. Now, one should never accept candy from a stranger, but when that stranger is Batman, you can be fairly certain it won’t be tampered with. As such, you accepted the candy with wide burning eyes. Your attempts at slowly peeling away the plastic were a hard-fought battle and Damian had to help you, slowly guiding your hand towards your mouth as you popped the candy into your mouth. The sweetness helped ground you a little, not to mention that it also helped you regain some of your lost powers.

When Damian reckons that you are mentally present again, he prompts you to tell him what happened. With trembling lips, you started to mutter out an answer, about how you had to walk alone because no one was there to get you home safely, how you’d fended one of the men off but then more just came, you almost let a sob slip, but manage to keep it in. Your emotional control and fighting spirit impress Damian, but more importantly, the utter imbecility of the adults in your life makes Damian feel a rage unlike any other.

Damian would take you home in his arms, barging through the front door of either your parents’ apartment or the front door of the academy. He ignores the protest of any adults attempting to stop him, even daring to roughly push them out of the way, as he carries you to your room, following your directions. Once he’s there, he’ll carefully put you on your bed and tug you in like a little kid, no matter your age at the time. He brushes your hair out of your face, (if you have any), and gently swipes your forehead with his thumb. This may seem like inappropriate behaviour for a stranger, but he’s Batman and you’re traumatised and still in shock. It’s his best attempt at calming you down.

Once you’re tugged in, he goes to your guardian, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns. He’ll scream his throat dry, reprimanding them for their carelessness, and if you’re living with your parents, he’ll threaten to call CPS on them. He’ll leave the building with a huff and a last warning of revenge should anything similar ever happen again.

It’s after this that Damian has a hard time letting go. He can’t help but constantly fear that you’re being mishandled in some way by your carers. He has nightmares of you in an alley, getting shot like his grandparents or worse… No! It’s so awful that he can’t even bear the thought. These tumultuous emotions will move him to the absolute edge, and to satiate his anxiety, even just a little, he’ll take to stalk look after you. He’ll follow your movements every free minute he has between working at Wayne Enterprises and patrolling the city as Batman, and if you have a bike or pair of shoes you often use, he’ll somehow manage to slip a tracker in there to follow your every move, even when he’s at work or out patrolling. “It’s just to keep them safe”, he’ll tell himself, justifying his actions. But really, whatever his intentions might’ve been in the beginning, they slowly morph into something darker, more possessive. Damian starts to wonder if he might not be a better parent and mentor to you than your real parents. They’re neglectful, he surmises. Either they were the ones who let you walk through Gotham at night, or they simply shipped you off to Gotham Academy, which clearly had no idea how to take care of its students.

Damian might force Bruce to attend his retelling of the night he met you, how he had to follow you around...to ensure your safety, of course! He twists the story and paints your parents as the most horrendous of people, totally disinterested in the well-being of their child, it makes Bruce pity you. Damian suggests that they take you, and make sure that you get a safer environment, with Damian adopting you, in a sense. Bruce isn’t entirely convinced of this, citing that they cannot just kidnap you from your home. However, when Damian mentions how you’re pretty much like Tim, except a better person in every regard, Bruce’s longing for nostalgia slowly creeps back through the cracks. His mind swirls with memories of little Dick, Jason, Tim and even Damian. When was the last time they had a kid, or at least a young person, in the house? It’s been so long that he barely remembers. The house is too big just for two adult men, they could really use someone to spice up the atmosphere. And as such, Bruce is on board… Not that Damian would’ve listened to him if he said otherwise.

With the decision made that you will become the newest in a long line of adopted Waynes, Damian sets out to get you. He will attempt to make it look natural… like the way Bruce adopted Dick after his parents died… Yeah, wouldn’t it be a shame if all your aunts and uncles suddenly started having issues in their life leaving them incapable of ever taking care of themselves, let alone you if something happened to your parents?

And wouldn’t it be even more of a shame if… let’s say, after pretty much all adults in your family either died, was run bankrupt or somehow ended up in jail… your parents finally die in a freak accident. Perhaps it’s a car crash due to someone having messed with its tailpipe? Or maybe they went to the cinema, only for the projector to hit them… and only them? It could even just be that while you’re out of the house/at the academy that they suddenly have a carbon monoxide slip in their home, making them silently sleep in the arms of the grim reaper.

Whatever it is, your parents will mysteriously die, and with no one else in your family able to take you in, the Gotham police department is left at a standstill. If you came from another country than the US, they might talk about sending you back to an orphanage there… anything is better than Gotham… but if you’re American they’ll have no other choice than to start preparations to move you into one of the rat-infested shiteholes calling themselves Gotham orphanages.

Wherever you’re from, you don’t have to wait more than a day before someone unexpectedly shows up at the police station, just as the pitying policemen are trying to help you pack your last stuff into boxes, ready to be sent wherever you need to go. Multi-billionaire, Damian Wayne. Everyone at the station is suspicious about how the green-eyed Wayne heard about the sudden availability of an orphan without any family to go to, but he’s a Wayne, so they’re not surprised… They have a thing for adopting orphans after all. And that’s exactly what Damian proposes!

The broad-shouldered man will bow down to your level, reach out a hand, a gentle smile on his otherwise hardened features, and offer you to join him as his ward. With the horror stories you’ve heard of orphanages combined with the possibility of being adopted by a literal billionaire, you don’t hesitate to accept, albeit reluctantly. Whatever reservations the police may have is waved off by the thought that the Waynes have experience with orphans and they’ll be able to give you a life so much more engaging than anyone else ever possibly could. To most of them, this seems like the perfect ending to your otherwise sad story… If only they knew.

Any legal troubles with adopting you, or if any relative attempts to better themselves to be able to take over your care, will be solved with a wat of cash in someone corruptible’s hands and a slight threat of homicide. To anyone except Damian, the adoption went entirely smoothly and without a hitch.

Once you’re settled in with Damian and Bruce, you’ll come to realise that this life really isn’t all that you expected it to be. The trauma of your parents’ deaths is still fresh, but Damian expects you to get over it within the first few weeks, he is after all, (in his mind at least), your new “dad/mentor”, you’re not alone…Not like he’s been for the past many years… So why can’t you just settle into your new life with vigour? Or at least not mope around most of the time!

Bruce is more patient than Damian, he’ll let you open up to him, even if he’s bad with emotions. I can imagine that after the death of your parents, you might develop heavy night terrors, to which Bruce will attempt to calm you by sitting at your bedside until you fall asleep. If you feel especially anxious one night, Bruce will swear that he and Damian will protect you, no matter what. After a while, Damian will take over nightguard duty, realising that he needs to let you open up slowly… or at least not instantly…

Damian might start reading you bedtime stories, even if you’re technically too old for them. His voice is just so calming, its eclectic accent combined with clear brass undertones, both of which remind you of a certain hero… It makes you momentarily forget the fear and despair that came with the death of your parents, so, even if it’s a little infantilising, you appreciate Damian’s presence as you fall asleep, it makes you feel safe.

If you’ll let him, Damian will trace calming circles on your back while reading, and if you ask him to, he’ll tell you stories from his childhood… the censored versions, he doesn’t want your delicate ears to get hurt by him explaining how he knew a million ways to kill a man before he even turned ten…

You will live a relatively comfortable life with Bruce and Damian for a while, getting introduced to the others whenever they find the time to drop by to meet the new member of the Wayne legacy, as well as getting acquainted with Jon Kent, who, (as Damian’s best friend), demands to be called uncle, despite you not even calling Damian dad… At least not yet. If all this attention on you makes you uncomfortable and feel like a zoo exhibition, Damian will immediately ban everyone except Jon and Tim from visiting for the next long while, even Dick. Tim kinda needs access to the manor for when he and Damian are doing patrol debriefings and Jon refused to not come around, besides he’s so disarming that you’ll probably get used to him quickly… whether or not you end up calling him uncle.

After a while, Damian might come to the conclusion that to truly bond with you he must give you an outlet for your frustrations… And he only knows one way that ever really worked for him… Becoming Robin.

One day, when you come home from school, Damian will command you to follow him in a tone which you had never heard him speak to you with before. It is hard, serious and foreboding, chills will spread up your back and through your fingers, a bad taste will invade the back of your throat and your breaths cut short… What did you do? Was Damian going to throw you back on the path of an orphanage kid? What had you done?

What you did not expect was for Damian to strut up to an old grandfather clock, turning the arrows on the white disk to exactly 10:47. Whether or not you’re the type of person to be easily surprised, there’s no way you wouldn’t be at least a little taken aback when the large clock swung back, revealing the entrance to what looked to be a cave.

You had no context to put it up against and as such your fear took over, making you slowly back away from the hole in the wall that had just been revealed. Damian’s weird behaviour doesn’t make the situation any better either. Really, for you, there’s no telling what’s going on.

Damian notices your hesitation and briefly takes offence until he senses your genuine fear. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just a family secret that I trust you enough to know.” He’ll try to reassure you, whether it works or not doesn’t matter, as he picks you up like you weighed nothing and carries you down the metal steps… He doesn’t trust you to not fall and hurt yourself.

Once down in the cave, he’ll reveal to you that he’s Batman, the second one to bear the monicker. He’ll reveal the hero identities of all your “new uncles”, even Jon. All the information that he believes you could possibly need will be loaded onto you in a “brief” thirty minutes monologue. By the end of it, you’re floored… who wouldn’t be? This is probably the last thing anyone would ever consider when moving in with a new family. A bit of your fan behaviour might poke through, as you go from shocked to concerned to almost a little ecstatic… your favourite hero is your adopted father… Wow! The powers above really shone down on you after you had lost everything, huh?

But the pleasant surprises don’t stop there as Damian starts to describe how most Robins lost their birth parents somehow, (with him being the exception), and how most of them worked through this, (not really), by becoming vigilantes. You start to wonder and maybe even hope that he’ll offer the position to you, but multiple times have to remind yourself to stop dreaming, it would be unlikely, right? I mean, you might be able to fight, but not vigilante-level, right? Well… Damian disagrees, and he offers you to become his Robin. In all your star-struck wonder, you fail to see the possessive and obsessive glint in his eyes. You accept on the spot, feeling as if it’s a dream come true.

From then on, your days will be filled with nothing except school, family and Robin training, there’ll simply be no time for friends and going out doing your own thing, and Damian loves it! He believes you’re the safest when you’re within the manor or in his direct line of sight. Anywhere else is dangerous.

Damian will eventually start to suspect the safety of your school…The teachers probably don’t know how to defend you from rogues. Heck! Hey probably don’t even care for your safety! His mind ruminates on the topic for a while, until he decides to let you be homeschooled. He asks around to see if there’re any good private teachers whom he can trust, but there aren’t. None of the people he interviews ever fit his standards: One is too lax, the other too strict, one isn’t clever enough and a fourth doesn’t seem loyal enough. It’s next to impossible to fill out all the demands that the green-eyed Wayne sets up, but there’s one man whom Damian would trust with your education and safety. Bruce… If we’re all being honest, he’s probably a better teacher in all subjects than those who actually studied for the position. It’s actually Bruce’s own idea that he’ll be the one tutoring you, he can work for Wayne enterprises at home, and teach you at the same time, it’s great bonding, and Bruce enjoys your youthful presence so much. It’s a win-win situation for both men… Of course, this will also mean that you’ll become entirely isolated from anyone that isn’t Damian approved. Your social circles are suddenly limited to a bunch of adults, most of whom are vigilantes, hell-bent on keeping others safe… This has the added side-effect of depriving you of anyone who might support your suspicions, should you sound the alarm as Damian puts up more and more safety protocols to keep you out of harm's way.

With no one else but the family, you become entirely submerged in the vigilante culture and social circles, as you train to become the new Robin. The only people you’ll see on a regular basis will be Damian, grandpa Bruce, uncle Jon and uncle Tim. Perhaps great uncle Clark will semi-regularly swing by with great aunt Lois, but that’s rare, Bruce usually goes to them. You may notice yourself becoming quite dependent on Damian and Bruce’s company and attempt to rebel, this doesn’t fly with Damian. He loves you, but he’s not the most patient of people. He will have no qualms about locking you in your room for hours or even days, only letting you out to do your Robin training.

It’ll take a long time for Damian to let you become a true Robin, he wants to be sure that you’ll be safe and have the skills to defend yourself fully. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you had already reached the age of 18 before you got to actually patrol the city, not that this would change anything, Damian would either pay someone to fake your birth certificate so that you were still his legal ward on paper or maybe just refuse to let you have any more freedom, even if you protest… at that point, he would have had years to manipulate you into being entirely loyal to the family and more specifically him, so I doubt that it’d be a real problem.

Regardless, when he does bestow upon you the right to become Robin, it’ll be the end of a long road. He’ll invite everyone in your immediate social circle to come and celebrate, even some of Bruce’s old colleagues like Hal Gordan and Barry Allen might show up, it’s a big party and it’s all about you. Any fancy dresses or suits you want? it’s yours! The entire house will be decorated in your favourite colours and all your favourite food will be served! At the end of the evening, everyone will be gathered in one of the manor’s large living rooms, and Damian will present you with your very own Robin suit. You’ll be surprised to find that it’s a real-life replica of the ones you had drawn as a child. If you wonder how he got them, Damian will simply say he had found them in the rubbish the day you moved in and he had thought it a shame to throw them out… really he had stolen the drawing from you back when he was still stalking you, having collected the perfect materials throughout your years of training, it had sometimes been a struggle to find fabric that both matched your idea of the costume as well as being practical in a field setting, but he had managed it, and now you had the perfect costume, just the way you’d always wanted it.

Damian is overprotective of you the first many times that you’re out as Robin, to the point where he barely lets you fight, out of fear that you might get hurt. But slowly and with the reassurances of both Tim, Jon and Bruce, he’ll let you fight on your own. His eyes will still always find your form the second he hears a grunt coming from your direction, but he’ll let you handle it unless he deems the situation too dangerous… which he does quite often…

Life will be fine as long as you’re by his side, he’s your Batman and you’re his Robin, and Gotham is delighted by the return of the traffic-cone-themed sidekick. Bruce will look upon you and Damian fondly, and be reminded of good-old times when that was him and Dick, or the beginning of him and Jason… Back before it all got so complicated… which is ironic because the emotions involved in you and Damian’s Batman/Robin partnership are way more complicated, dark and obsessive than any of Bruce’s ever were.

You might wonder why Bruce never opposes Damian’s obvious yandere tendencies, but, in truth, Bruce refuses to see them. After all his sons, (except Damian), moved out, he got too old to be Batman, Alfred died and his entire life practically had to be narrowed down to Wayne Enterprises and occasional visits from his boys, (most of whom he was estranged from), Bruce had lost his spark, his reason to wake up in the morning. However, when you arrived, an entirely new chapter of his life opened up. He no longer felt like he was riding through the last fourth of his life without any meaning. No, with you there, he now had the responsibilities of a grandfather! He had someone to live for and to tell his near-endless anecdotes to! Your sudden appearance in his life saved him, and as such, he couldn’t even begin to let himself see the cracks in the happy facade he depended on to keep his life going. To him, you were all a happy and healthy family, three generations: Father, son and grandchild. And no one could take that away from him, he refused.

As you grow up, still living with Damian and Bruce, switching between the two identities of Robin and y/n, the wealthy socialite, adopted by Damian Wayne, you might start to consider whether you should create something of your own, instead of just living a life that Damian created for you. You might look at photos of the old Teen Titans and Young Justice, all hung throughout the halls of Wayne manor, and think to yourself, “maybe I could do something like that too”.

If you verbalise this idea to Damian, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes widening with fear and rage. “You want to leave us?! After everything we’ve done for you?!” You can try your best to explain that you just want to become your own person, but Damian will hear non of it. He becomes frantic and angry, making you sit and listen to him rant about how dangerous it can be for a bunch of sidekicks, not even fully-fledged heroes, to just team up and battle it out. He’ll list to you all the most horrific incidents that happened in both Teen Titans and Young Justice, the people that got permanently, the people that got seriously maimed and those who died horrifically. At the end of his hours-long rant, he’d have instilled sufficient anxiety within you to turn you off to that idea.

After your suggestion, though, Damian might realise that you could be in need of a friend around your age. He doesn’t like the idea, a mix of both jealousy and the fear that they won’t protect you makes him reluctant to seek out some of the other sidekicks, but for you and your mental well-being, he’ll do anything. So he finds a sidekick, it could be Jon’s… actually, it’s most likely Jon’s sidekick, I can’t really see him trusting anyone else. But he’ll go up to them and practically demand that they befriend you. If they’re anything like Jon, and I can imagine that they are, they’ll accept with a big smile.

You may have a hard time befriending Jon’s sidekick, especially if your personalities aren’t compatible, however, they’re the only other person around your age you have, so you’ll have to make do. Eventually becoming best friends, even if you can’t stand them.

Any other need you could possibly have, Damian will always find a way to satiate it without ever giving you your freedom. It’ll be the most infuriating game of pulling rope, he’ll always give in to your demands, but in a way that just further cements your inability to escape him.

Damian will never let you go, not as long as he lives. If you try to get married… hah! No. Not happening. If you wanna go to university, he’ll hire tutors to come to your home. You’re never escaping and Damian isn’t coy about showing his possessiveness and platonic obsession with you. You’re his kid, even if you refuse. Really, you should have just stayed home that fateful night when you met, because now you’re stuck as Damian’s Robin, forever.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it!

I'm really sorry that these take so long to come out lately, but I have my final exams in a little over a month, (they start on the 1st of May), so I'm in a pretty tight spot for time recently, I'll obviously become more productive when they're all done, and I do also have another full one shot of Damian in the works. For the anon who requested this, I would just like to say, you had a wonderful idea, and I hope I did it justice, it didn't really go where I had originally intended it to, but I hope that this is what you might've preferred either way.

#damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere x reader #batman #yandere batboys #yandere dc #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you

582 notes · View notes