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chososluv · 5 months

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P L U G T O J I !

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: i just got the thinking about toji fucking you with a chain on and how drastically different he would be from plug!choso and well... she came out!

🏷 tags/warnings: smut. fem!reader, reader has vagina, black coded, big dick toji, pet names (ma, mamas, daddy) daddy is used as "hey zaddy" not in a ddlg kind of way, slight size kink bc toji is huge squirting, fingering, some degradation, toji being a meanie its why we love him. dom!toji, cervix touching, deepthroating, weed smoking, mentions of criminal activity, toji is as toxic ass mf, reader is a fly ass bitch, toji fucking you w the chain on cuz duhhhh! Also subject to be edited

✎₊˚ word count: 6.5k sorry i had a lot to say about plug!toji yall!

Plug!Toji who is drastically different than plug!choso from personalities and down to how you meet.

You were college girl and Plug!Toji is the king of the city you moved to. You two lived in separate worlds until you decided further education was not for you and dropped out. It wasn't the fact that you weren't making grades — you were on the dean's list the entire time you were there — but you suddenly felt bored. Destined for more, you submitted those drop out papers and felt instant relief knowing that was the right decision. Now that you had time to pursue something other than college, you started bouncing around jobs. Retail job here, customer service agent there, eventually you tried out being a bottle girl at a local luxurious nightclub after being referred through a friend of a friend. That decision led you to be tangled with the notorious Toji Fushiguro.

Plug!Toji flew back to the city on this particular day. He touched down and decided immediately he need to be fucked up with a pretty woman in his lap. He went to his penthouse condominium, ridding himself of his clothes to start a hot shower before he got ready to go to one of his favorite clubs.

The same one you happened to work at full time now

Plug!Toji waited for the shower to get hot when one of his trusted men, Gojo Satoru, sent him the details of the section booked, followed with a selfie of him and an unknown's stripper's ass, grinning really hard. Toji could only grunt out a small laugh, tossing his phone onto the counter and climbing into the shower.

Originally not scheduled, you picked up a shift that fateful night Plug!Toji arrived back in town. You wanted the extra cash — and needed to justify spending money on getting your hair done into a smooth silk press. Your hair was long and straight down your back, and you looked absolutely divine. You garnered more attention that night from both clients and coworkers. You only laugh off each compliment, saying thank you, before tossing the strands over your shoulder. You had time for nothing more. You were here to get your bag and go.

Absorbed in your bag chasing, you failed to notice Plug!Toji watching you from his section. Satoru had the section packed with a plethora of strippers and bottle girls but you were all he could find himself focused on. Strippers kept trying to get his attention but he shooed him away every time as he watched you bring a bottle to a table. He saw your gorgeous smile all the way from his section. He continued to watch you and he took a generous swig from the Hennessy bottle. He doesn't flinch as the dark brown liquid raced its way bitterly down his throat. He still didn't care. His only focus was on the pretty woman with the exuberant personality he saw from across the way. You.

"Wait, I think the Toji is staring at you." One of your coworkers peeped as you were walking to the bar to prepare another drop on a table. The other one looked over and saw the big brooding man staring shamelessly in your direction. She quickly looked back to the rest of you before joining in the confirmation.

"He's definitely looking this way, but could he really be staring at y/n?" The other asked, clearly not attempting to hide her jealousy and you laughed. You only shook your head, not even bothering to look at who they were talking about because again, you were here to get your bag and not fawn over men. Money was the only thing on your mind and these men had to prove they were worthy of your attention. The three of you approach the bar before you replied.

"Girl not you sounding like a damn hater," you checked her, "we'll revisit that comment later, but either way I have no idea who that man is." You continued as you watch the bartenders finish up the last touches on the bottles you were delivering. The girl only rolled her eyes.

"Even more reason why I hope he's not looking at you. You're too new around here and you getting all the high end clients-" You looked directly at your coworker.

"You worry about the wrong damn things. Focus on ya bag and maybe you won't be so hurt when someone new comes in and takes up your clients." You snapped, not bothered — or concerned — if customers heard. This coworker in particular had been testing you since you got here and were sick of the unwarranted attitude. The witnessing coworker whistled.

"Y/N got a point. Step ya pussy up and maybe you'll party with Fushiguro one day." She said, defending you and that was all you needed to hear. You heard her fix to say something else, but then your manager popped up next to you three. A big grin was on his face

"Ladies, Yuki is going to fill in for Y/N. Toji Fushiguro just bought Y/N for the rest of the night." You raised your eyebrow and turned to face your manager. You didn't even bother to sneak a glance at your hater coworker. You knew she was fuming but that wasn't your focus. You had a smile stretched across your lips.

"How much?"

"Shit, probably enough to pay off the remainder of your loans from school. I know I could go out and buy a car with the money he just offered off tip alone." He said honestly and that was all you needed.

Plug!Toji who watched your manager fill you in from a distance. He immediately got up from the section, not wanting to share you with anyone. He descended from the stairs with suave arrogance as if he owned the place. Shit, he pretty much did one way or another with the way he ran this city. Everyone ate out of his hand whether they knew it or not. He continued his descension and that's when you finally looked in his direction. You unknowingly clenched your fist when you settled on his face, the look of an adonis but eyes of something so evil and sinister. You felt the tides change in that moment and knew your world was about to shift tremendously.

Plug!Toji stalks up on you, towering over you and your manager. He offers his free hand that wasn't holding the Hennessy bottle. His hands are cold. . .

so why was your palm so hot when he held it?

"You're y/n?" you nodded, "you ever fucked with someone who could buy you fucking the world, pretty girl?" Toji asked, quickly inspecting your empty wrist and empty ring finger. Perfect. That meant it would easier for him to snatch you up if you didn't have anyone at home waiting for you.

"Nah, but I assume you're about to change that, Toji?" Your mouth moved before you could stop yourself. He could only smirk and he bit his lip as he looked at you up and down. Your manager sensed he was no longer needed and walked himself away as he felt the wad of cash in his pocket - courtesy of Toji bribing for your time.

"Had a feeling you had a mouth on you," he brought his lips close to your ear, "glad to know I was right." A shiver skated down your spine and you felt goosebumps prickle on your arms. You brought your face back to look at him, shooting him a mischievous grin and Toji felt something adjacent to love in that moment. A desire to have you to himself had grew even more. You leaned close to him and he brought his ear back down to you so you could speak clear into it.

"I'd love to know what else you suspect about me, Toji." You challenged, voice something sensual and thick with sultry honey. He traced a thumb over your knuckle and replied back.

"Careful with me, baby. I just might snatch you up and never bring you back." Toji warned. You probably should have took some time to think about what he was saying, but you felt high off this banter alone and wanted to do anything to keep it going. So, you licked your lips, stepped close to him and placed a testy hand on his stomach and spoke.

"What if I been waiting for you to come do that, Fushiguro?" You said. You removed your lips from his ear to capture the look in his eyes. Sensual darkness passed over and he grinned sinfully, that scar lifted at the corner of his mouth. You had only just fully realized how eerie he looked with it, but for some reason you wondered what it would be like if he let you licked it. . .

"Then," he broke your thoughts, "lets go ahead and get acquainted, baby. Whatcha say?" He questioned and you nodded. He smirked again and took a final swig of the Hennessy bottle. He looked to his left to see your coworker from earlier gawking at you two. He motioned her over, excitement came across her face as she thought she was joining in on you. However, Toji placed the empty bottle in her hand, patted her cheek, and shooed her away. He focused his attention back on you before witnessing the crestfallen look on her face. You couldn't even attempt to shoot her a fake sympathetic look because you started squealing.Toji literally snatches you up and takes you out of main room and to the lounge he faithfully rents out.

Plug!Toji who had you squeezing your legs tight as he carried you to keep your cunt from fluttering. The brute exhibit of his strength had you swoon as he balanced you with one arm. He took you to his favorite lounge where drinks and pre-rolled blunts were already waiting. He took a seat on the plush couch and you slid down next to him. He stared at you all over, not bothering to hide his wandering gaze. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke.

"You smoke?"

Plug!Toji who offers you a blunt - to which you gladly take. Smoking on the shift with this handsome man? That's a dream come true. You take a couple puffs, barely coughing and Toji is impressed as you passed it back. He takes a hit before passing it back to you.

"You be smoking, huh baby?" He asked you. You chuckled, nodding as you take another generous hit. This time you stifle a small cough and he laughed at you.

"Yeah. It's how I decompress." You admitted, coughing again and he chuckled at you once again. He rubbed your back jokingly to help you through your fit.

"Can't smoke my shit like its regular baby this shit pressure." He said, taking another hit to hold the blunt for you. You rolled your eyes, looking at him to see he scooted closer to you. You felt the heat from his body waft off his and onto yours, words dissolved from your brain as you looked at his appearance appropriately. His all black outfit with a black tee, jeans, and shoes - a simple yet sexy monochrome moment. A thick gold herringbone chain draped around his neck to provide a pop of color and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering how the weight would feel on your face while he fu-

"What you looking at, y/n?" Toji asked, smirking at you once again as he caught you staring at him in deep thought. You subconsciously licked your lips as while staring at his chain and he felt compelled to call you out on it. You snapped from your gaze, trance lifted and your eyes shifted back to his. You only smiled.

“Your chain, daddy.” You teased and he shifted at the pet name that rolled off your tongue. He didn't even try to hide his sleazy ass grin.

“What about my chain, ma?” He took a final hit of the blunt, ashed the rest in the tray. Leaning back into the couch, he stretched out his legs and patted a broad hand on his lap. You knew this signal, and usually you ignore it but with Toji? You obeyed and got up to slide into his lap. You placed an arm around his shoulders to steady yourself against his frame. His broad arms circled around you and caged you in possessively. You sunk into his hold and then you spoke.

“It's pretty.” You reached up and your fresh manicure set brushed against the herringbone. He swallowed when he felt your nails scratch against his neck and he only stared at your face in the lounge lighting. He’s allowed to see your pretty complexion in this space, gorgeous set of pump lips, and lashes extended for days. Your eyes looked from the chain to see him staring at you. You smiled and tossed your hair over your shoulder.

“Want one?” He asked you, eyes flickering to your naked neck and picturing how a matching one would look on you. He thought about adding a T charm to it so people know you were his. A smile on his face when he thought about it but it looked like he was mirroring yours because you had also smiled.

“Maybe. What I gotta do for one?” You teased and played a dangerous game consciously. You played dumb, but you knew the whispers about Toji Fushiguro. He was the top boss of the city and he did highly illegal things. Too many of the people he was affiliated with were fighting charges and RICOS. And you had sat in the most dangerous man in the city’s lap, and flirted with him as if it were nothing.

When you look back on your behavior that night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you always knew you were secretly made for this kind of life with Toji.

“Let me take you out of here and I’ll show you everything you can do for me, pretty girl.”

Plug!Toji didn't need to ask you twice. You immediately left without telling any of the girls and your manager. You texted your roommate you would be out late and shared your location with a trusted best friend and that was as much as you did.

Plug!Toji met you out front. He grabbed your hand and led you to a vehicle, opening the door for you to the backseat of a sleek, black suv. The leather interior had you wondering how much it cost as Toji slid in the backseat with you. The driver greeted Toji and he responded with grunted instructions to go home.

“Ayo you know the rules. Don’t look back here. And shit with this one,” Toji looked at you, licked his lips, and wondered how yours would taste, “if you even think about looking back here i’ll cut those eyes out.” You didn't have time to register how serious Toji’s threat sounded because he placed his rough lips against yours. You immediately shut your eyes, melting into his lips and you felt immediately brazen enough to grab onto his t-shirt to bring him closer. Toji could only smirk against your lips, seeing how you were bold and never terrified to be in close quarters with him regardless of his criminal status. He only wanted you more that night.

Plug!Toji who didn't give a fuck his driver was less than a foot away and he pulled down the raunchy work top you wore. You gasped when his calloused fingers pinched at your hardened nipple. The action earned a twitch between your thighs.

"I been wondering how pretty these tits were since i saw you and i'm not disappointed. They real aint they?" Toji said against your lips, he paused kissing you to cast a gaze down at your breast. He saw the perky bunch prickle with goosebumps as your nipples stood at the cold air and stimulation. You only moaned at his compliment before you snaked your hand that was on his shirt to the back of his head to bring him closer, aching to devour his taste of mint and hennessey again. You're stuck your tongue out lewdly as you drew him closer and he smirked sinisterly before you two kissed yet again. This time was sloppy and spit swapping with teeth bumping against one another as tongues traced one another. The taste of your strawberry gloss and tongue left Plug!Toji feeling greedy and he needed more.

Plug!Toji and you only managed to kiss on the car ride. When Toji was about to place you in his lap the driver alerted you two that you had arrived to his apartment. He grunted, pulling away from you to see your gloss smeared around your lips and pupils blown sexually. He took a thumb and rubbed the gloss off your chin as you tuck your breast back into your shirt. Toji reached into his pocket, took out a wad of wash, and threw it into the lap of the driver.

"Good job not looking. Y/N, baby come on."

Plug!Toji who wasted no time and fucked you crazy in his apartment that night. He brought you up to his apartment and was nice enough to let the door close before he had began tearing your clothes off. You can't recall who took off what, but what you do remember is the first thing he made you do was lay face down ass up on the edge of the bed. His hands caressed your ass as his tongue lapped up and down your cunt ravenously. Salvia and dripping cream dribbled down his chin and lips but he didn’t care. Your angelic wails melodic to him and each time you went an higher octave he felt his cock swell another inch.

“Sexy as fuck when you moan,” Toji complimented you, “pussy pretty and soaked too think you ready for this dick?” You were so delirious you agreed. Your cunt lusted for something inside it and you felt him tap on your ass. You got up from your position, turning around to face him as you sat on the edge. You looked up at him, his massive frame towered over you as he slowly undid his jeans, his shirt long gone but that damn gold chain still sitting grandly on his chest.

He settled onto the middle of his bed, free from his clothes and he gave you a look. You didn’t need to be told, and you crawled towards him, swift hands at the band of his boxers and you languidly pull down . . .

you gawked at his immense cock that flopped against his stomach, stiff and flushed at the tip. You attempted miserably to hide your overwhelmed countenance but Toji saw the way your eyes widened and snickered. You don't notice him laughing at you because you were still so mesmerized by how huge it was. The veins are engorged around his shaft and even though it’s so brawny and intimidating it’s so pretty.

"Never seen a dick this big before huh?" Toji teased you, a playful thumb coming to caress your cheek as you continued to stare at his cock. You shook your head, just astonished. His enticing mauve shaft with a pink tip had you licking your lips at his color. The tip bubbled with precum and you leaned forward and kitten licked his slit. Toji hissed, but then grumbled as you took his tip in your mouth. He moved his hand to your hair and held it back, his brawny fingers fisting it into a ponytail. His thighs jerked when you kept trying to take as much as him as you could. What you couldn’t take you caressed with two delicate hands.

"Y/N." Toji hissed your name again and gripped tightly onto your hair. You answered with obscene noises coming from your throat and mouth as you performed the best oral of your life. You were so determined as you were determined to claim him with your mouth. Toji noticed your stubborn nature and one of your hands snuck away to fondle at his balls. He cursed and bucked his hips up in your mouth.

His tip bullied its way down your throat and it caused you to gag, but you took it obediently. He carnally bucked his hips into your awaiting throat, more obscene noises tumbled before you pulled your mouth off of him to breathe. You gasped as spit and a little bit of precum slid lewdly down your chin from the excess on your lips. You only smiled, giggled, and then continued to massage his balls with your hands.

"Dick so fucking big, Ji." You said, fucked out just from sucking his cock and Toji could only smirk. He saw that look in your eye and could not believe you were drunk off sucking his cock alone. He almost replied but then you tucked him back into your mouth. Toji groaned as he watched you hungrily slide his dick past where you stopped last time, deep throating him.

"Fuck— mouth so fucking good let me fuck that throat again." Toji said desperately. You barely gave his thigh a gentle caress as a go before he bucked inside your mouth again. You released a sound that was a mix of a whine and a gag and Toji felt his dick jump in your mouth. He bit his lip, relishing in the feeling of your wet and hot mouth and pictured what your cunt felt like. He casted a gaze down at your legs to see you grinding your poor thighs together. He smirked.

"Rubbing your thighs while sucking my dick is crazy. Get cho ass up here and fucking ride it."

You pulled your mouth off his cock, lungs gasping for air as you let oxygen fill them once more. You got up to your knees, quickly placing a few fingers at your entrance to feel the slickness. You're beyond drenched and your glossy fingers were indisputable proof. Toji snatched your hand as you straddled his waist and stuck your fingers in his mouth. Your taste danced on his taste buds and he sighed with pleasure.

"How I taste, daddy?" You inquired, finding your voice now because when he ate you out earlier words were scarce.

"Fucking delicious now sit on this dick."

Plug!Toji had a feeling he was going to fall damn near in love with you the moment you deepthroat his cock, but the way you rode him with something serious he felt in heaven. His arms were crossed behind his head as he enjoyed the way you slapped your hips against his pelvis erotically. His groomed hairs sticky and soaked with your nectar. You huffed, tits bouncing as you ignored the burn that plagued your inner thighs.

"To-ji!" You moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock. You strived to ignore the fact that his girth was literally splitting you in half. You could feel him in the depths of your soul each time you managed to bottom him out completely. Your cunt quivered each time and you panted out pathetic gasps between moans. Toji only continued to smirk at you, drinking in and loving the way you moaned his name. Why was everything about you so perfect?

"You're so fucking sexy taking my cock like a pro, mama." Toji grinned and the scar at the corner of his mouth lifted. He decided he can't take not feeling you against his skin anymore and removed a hand from behind him, bringing it to your waist to steady your body. You mewled when he touched you, not realizing you missed his touch until he placed his hand on your hip. You take one of your hands that was at your breast and move it to hold onto Toji's hand.

"Cock so fucking big." You sighed as you continued to feel his tip deep in your cervix. His cock pulsed inside you this time, twitching when your tepid walls embraced him. Your cunt throbbed, hugging him tightly to beg for his seed. Toji groaned at the feeling, moving the hand from your hip to your ass. He caressed the fat before spanking it ruthlessly. You shout and threw your head back as the sting echoes throughout the surface.

"Biggest cock you ever fucking had, huh mama?" Toji asked of you. He witnessed your face contort in pleasure as you nodded shamelessly.

"MMmmm, yes Ji." You're drunk off the thickness, feeling your cunt tightening up and that thread deep in your belly become taut. You felt it coming and you were biting your lip to brace yourself for the messy spout about to erupt from between your legs.

"You a squirter, y/n?" Toji already had an inkling what was fixing to take place. You nodded, hurling your hips down faster as you felt it coming promptly. The feeling knocked into you when Toji's cruel thumb traced circles on your nub. You wailed, screeching as your cunt sprayed all over Toji, soaking his pelvis and hairs once more.

"Toji!" You panted while you rutted your hips greedily to let the last few spurts of squirt leave your cunt. He grunted and sat up before throwing you off of him and to the side on the bed. You weren't given a chance to register anything before his raven locks dove between your legs.

Plug!Toji has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as his tongue assaulted your folds the second time tonight. His tongue reveled in every last drop as it oozed out of you. Arousal coated his lips and he doesn't mind. He licked his lips before he suckikg at your trembling hole. You whimpered, wanting to run away because of how good his hot muscle felt against you. Toji only gripped your thighs roughly, surely to leave violet reminders that following morning.

"Fuck you think you doing running from me, y/n?" He swore, slapping your thigh and you whimpered.

"Sorry, Toji—" You attempted to apologize but he cut you off.

"Nah, don't "Toji" me now wheres all that daddy shit from earlier huh?" He taunted you, bringing a finger to your awaiting hole and you sighed at the intrusion. You completely forgot he asked you a question when he sunk a second finger inside. A loud squelch sounded out and your eyes rolled back and you moaned. He slapped at your thigh again.

"Fucking answer me, y/n."

"I'm sorry, daddy. Please—” You tried to speak but his fingers curling deep in that one spot left you winded..

"Please what, pretty girl?" He teased, fucking your hole with his fingers and he earned a nasty squelch. His tongue circled your clit and you cry out. Toji’s fat tongue was so mean and overpowering your poor little clit as he fucked it. He earned another gush to coat his fingers and on the sheets.

"Want that dick, daddy." You finished your thought finally. Your pussy finished its second round of squirting and Toji licked at your clit one last time. He traveled down and sucked the arousal from around your folds before he came back up to you. He grabbed onto your face and you opened your eyes, seeing him stare down at you with that precarious darkness in his eyes.

"Open, and I just might give it to you." He said and you obeyed without question. Mouth open, you stuck your tongue out as he gathered the spit and arousal left in his mouth. The liquid is on your tongue and before you can swallow it Toji's mouth chased after you. You moaned in the kiss as your tongues swirled together in a salacious dance. You were so distracted by the kiss you fail to notice he was prepping to slide in until he eased in you.

"Toji—fuck—feels ssssogood!" You slurred underneath the brute man as he fucked you into his mattress. You couldn't keep up, pathetic gasps and whimpers fell from your lips each time he pistoned into you. He only smirked, drunk off the sounds that left your lips. He knew you ain't ever had dick like this before.

"Could say the same about you baby," he looked down at you, his chain bumped into your nose but you don't care, you're in heaven at the feeling, "pussy so pretty, leaky, and creamy can't have no one else fucking my shit." He spoke about you filthily but you don't care — again. You only get enraptured off his words and nodded frantically.

"It's all yours, daddy," you're drunk off his cock as it continued to send you in a lustful spiral, "i promise." You approached your orgasm and threw your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Toji only grunted and continued to fuck deeper into you as you squeezed him tighter.

"All mine huh," you nodded as your eyebrows scrunched up, face contorting into a euphoric expression once more, "that's what i like to fucking hear." He fucked into you faster, his thumb coming to rub on your clit again and you cried. You threw your head back, screaming as you felt your body succumbing to the orgasm.

"To—ji!" You're choking, pussy tight and leaky on Toji's thick cock as you came. You creamed, sucking him in and gushing hard around him. Toji only kept fucking you through your orgasm, his cold chain continuing to dust lightly against your face. You became a whimpering mess underneath him, unable to comprehend anything as overstimulation took over.

"Fucking tight pussy tryna get me to cum in it the first night," Toji chuckles, "shit should I, baby?" You nod your head so fast you should have felt shame for it.

"Want it all, Ji." You tell him and Toji didn't need to be told twice.

You're cumming again when he finally spills himself inside. He grunted and groaned, the sounds melodic to your ears and your cunt twitched around him more. He felt it, continuing to milk his cock with your silky walls and coming down from his high. He looked down at you and saw the roots had turned curly and a light smirk came to his face. A moment passed when you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

You mewled, coming back to Earth and you studied the man who lingered above still. His chain is still swinging against your face but you don't flinch. Dark eyes peered down and you hold his stare for a moment. The scar caught your attention, and the fingers that were on his back found themselves sliding forward to trace along the abrasion.

Plug!Toji tried to ignore the electricity he felt when your manicured finger traced along his skin. The moment felt slightly tender as he held a gaze with you. Something short of vulnerability flashed briefly until he snapped out of it. He hooked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you up from laying on your back and into his lap.

Plug!Toji who sparked a blunt before speaking,

"Once you with me there's no backing out." A subtle warning that once you were tangled with him and his lifestyle that was it. There would be no take backs. You only held his stare and took the blunt from him. You spoke.

"Long as you don't play me for no goofy bitch we good." A subtle warning from your side and you took a hit from the blunt. Toji could only smile sinisterly at your attitude.

"Yes ma'am." He chuckled darkly, taking the blunt back from you before he thinks to himself.

yeah, she'll fit right in.

flash forward a few years later and your life has changed drastically.

You're no longer a bottle girl. Why would you need a job when you had Plug!Toji to take care of you and spoil you to death?

The same went with your apartment. Why did you need to continue to pay expensive ass rent with a mediocre roommate when you had Plug!Toji who was ready to move you into his two floor loft after that first night of fucking?

And last but not least? You're the queen of the city.

Just as violent as Plug!Toji, you always get your way and opposition was always dealt with quickly and efficiently. If one didn't like you, you just prayed for their sake you never met them. Probability very high that the day you two crossed paths would be their last.

Plug!Toji has you as his iced out baby girl who he spoils. He always gets you what you want whenever you ask and men who stared at you a second too long always got punched out by him. Everyone wanted to know who was this one that was always next to Fushiguro. They knew you were someone special to him because Toji never showed up with the same woman more than once, never had a protective hand on their backs at times...

but it was the gold herringbone chain with a "T" brandished clear as day that marked you. Everyone knew it Fushiguro's way of marking you as his.

And you can't help but relish in this new found life of yours. The luxury, opulence, comfort, and excitement it offered to you was unimaginable. Soon after that first night with Plug!Toji, he took care of you instantly. He settled your loans and paid your roommate off to let you break the lease to move into his apartment a month later.

"I need you close to me this shit dangerous. Here, buy you that Saint Laurent bag you been eyein' or somethin just stop that fuckin poutin'.'" Plug!Toji argued, tossing his credit card in your lap on the drive back to his apartment with all your essential stuff in the rear area.

And you did in fact stop pouting and purchased the Saint Laurent purse you had been fawning over. This wasn't the first time Toji asked you to do something and rewarded you when you gave in. As mentioned earlier, you quit your job a couple weeks after meeting him because one time he wanted to see you but you had a shift . . .

"Mane, fucking quit that place, y/n. I take care of you now." You could hear the annoyance in Plug!Toji’s voice as you spoke over the phone, but you were feeling reluctant to agree. Relying completely on him after what you had in your account was gone? You felt uneasy and Toji could sense it. You heard him shuffling on the other end.

"Y/N." He said your name that day and he sounded like he was in a building.

"Yeah, I don't know To-" You started to tell him your thoughts until you heard knocking at your door. You went to answer it, seeing on the other side is none other than Toji. You can't help but roll your eyes as you two hang up. You take in his sexy all black appearance with that signature thick gold herringbone.

Plug!Toji showed up with a present. You two went to your room, you huffed and puffed about how he was going to make you late for work but he ignored you. Toji occupied himself with the jiggle of your ass as you lightly stomped into your room. You had went to the side of the bed, placing the bag there before opening the gift. Toji stood behind you and watched you remove the tissue. You saw the black box, raising your eyebrow as you feel his mischievous hands on your waist and slowly slide up your body. He hands were at your neck when you finally began opening the box.

Plug!Toji sported that signature devilish smirk, moving your hair from your neck as you revealed the gift. You gasped so loud that day.

The gift: a thick gold herringbone necklace similar to Toji's, however yours brandished a "T" in the center. You gasped at how pretty it was but also the slight meaning behind it.

"Toji.." You were still in awe as he began kissing on your neck, moving his hands back down to your waist. He naughtily licks a stripe along your pulse, causing your knees to buckle. He held you up before bringing his lips to your ear.

"Quit that fucking place, y/n."

You didn't even hesitate and immediately agreed that you would.

And moments later, you were riding him with nothing on but that pretty gold herringbone chain.

bonus scene:

present time: you lay pretty in a bathtub, rose and cinnamon filling the air. The ambience relaxing and romantic with your plenty bubbles and aromatic candles lit. Your muscles were slowly releasing the tension from a long day of shopping. A way to decompress after a stressful week of being the fiancé of the notorious Plug!Toji.

Plug!Toji who finds you sitting beautiful. Your eyes are opening, sensing he arrived and your lips shift into a sensual smirk. All day you missed your man and seeing him waltz through the door all tall and delicious you were ready to pounce. Your eyes sank seductively and Toji watches that look pass over you. He sits on the side of the tub as you speak.

"I missed you today, daddy." You speak.

"Missed you too baby," his eyes look you over before speaking, "come out that tub we both know you aint tryna bathe right now." A cocky smirk on his lips and you can only chuckle. However, you get up, standing up from the water and letting the suds and bubbles run with the water down your enticing frame. Toji licks his lips, watching the bubbles fall from your tits, stomach, hips, and between your thighs. He watches intensely as you step out, water lands on the floor but the two of you didn't care as you stand before him. You grab the towel from the sink and hand it to Toji. He leans down and grabs your wet calf, bringing your foot onto his knee as he begins drying your leg off.

You look at his lap, seeing his dick laying against his leg through the tight slacks he was wearing. You bring your foot up, sliding it until your toes were pressing into the print.

"You hard already, Toji" You tease him, he only looks at you sinisterly, knowing he was about to have fun with you tonight.

"Don't play these games y/n you know I aint the mufucka for that." He warns.

"What games, daddy?" You press your toes harder and before you can register the mean look he gave you he swiftly pulls you into his lap. The towel is gone and you're squealing, giggling even because you know you're about to get put in your place.

"Oh we actin' brand new? That's cool." He strikes your ass, earning a lament of shock.

"Get your fucking ass on the bed so i can break this fucking pussy so you don't fucking forget shit again."

©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!

#ohhhhhh I THINK !! this is it #she’s subject to be edited but im ready to bring her to the WORLD #𝐑𝐈𝐕.𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #plug!toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

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soliarus · 9 months

Note

hi!! could i request kindergarten teacher sana and reader fluff? reader goes to her nieces open house and bumps into ms. minatozaki, the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. sana mistakes reader for being her nieces mom, but reader explains that her brother just had a sudden work event.

*sigh* Young Love

-fluff

: falling for your niece’s teacher is crazy

words 1k

teacher!sana x fem!reader

────────────────────

The smell was the first thing you noticed about the small classroom. It smelled wonderful, like roses. The little girl holding your hand pulls you past the doorway, “Over here! Over here!” Your niece pulls you towards the cubbies, pointing out hers. Each cubby had its own little custom name tag; your niece’s had a little pink flower on hers.

“Wow, Eun, is this your cubby?” You ask, watching the girl squeal and describe every little detail, “Yes! Yes! My backpack goes on this hook! And my shoes go down here! Oh! And my lunchbox stays here until snack time!” You smile at the girl kneeling next to her as she reenacts how she puts everything into her little cubby.

“Eun! It’s good to see you made it!” A cheery voice flows into your ears. Turning around, you see the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. Your niece runs towards the woman, “Ms. Minatozami!”. She stumbles over the name slightly, going in to hug the woman.

“You must be Eun’s teacher,” you mumble. Your niece talks about her teacher a lot, but she always says a different name each time you ask. She eats dinner gushing about how she’s the best teacher and the most beautiful woman in the whole world. And now you think you agree.

“Yes, it’s Minatozaki, actually, Sana Minatozaki; you can just call me Sana.” She holds up her hand for you to shake, and you take it. Staring at your interconnected hands, you hear someone clear their throat. You look down and notice your niece looking at you expectantly, and then you look up and see Sana with her head tilted. Your hand is still holding her’s.

“Oh- um,” you quickly bring your hand back, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you prett- I mean beautifu- I mean Sana! It’s nice to meet you, Sana!” You embarrassingly blush, as Sana giggles, “and it’s a pleasure meeting you, Y/N”. She smiles as you look away, hiding your hands behind your back. Her thoughts ran wild before she forced herself to stop. That's your student’s mother, your student's young pretty mothe- jeez Sana; get a hold of yourself! She internally scolds herself before another student begins to call her over.

“Oh, I must get going. I hope the two of you enjoy the open house. Little Eun has worked really hard on all her projects this year. I'm sure you’ll love each one.” She smiles at the two of you before walking away. You continue to stare at her as she talks to another student and their parents, hearts in your eyes, as Sana moves a piece of hair behind her ear, as she leans into one of the desks, as she points to one of the posters on her wall, as she-

Damn,” Eun says, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. “You’re down bad!”

“W-what!” You look down at her, surprised. “Where did you learn that!? You're like four!”

“Five actually... Come look at where I sit!” And you’re being dragged across the classroom.

────────────────────

Sana sighed. She’s getting slightly irritated; it’s been 30 minutes, and no one has come to pick up the little girl beside her.

“Eun? You said your father is picking you up today?”

The girl beside her, who is busy kicking a rock, nods, “Yes, miss, he always picks me up.”

Sana almost groans, “He’s sure taking his sweet time today, huh?”

“Eun! Eun!” Both of them look down the path and see a figure running towards them. You stop in front of them panting, wearing what seems like work attire. “Eun, sorry I kept you waiting; your dad had something come up at work so I’ve come to pick you up today.”

You ruffle the girl's hair, picking up her backpack. “C'mon up, we go.” You pick her up with a grunt, “god girl, you’re getting heavy.” Eun didn’t like that comment very much, and she showed that by smacking the side of your head.

“Ouch, Eun I was just kidding.” You look up and notice the same teacher who’s taken over your mind since the last time you saw her.

“Oh, Sana!”

“Hi Y/N!” Sana can’t help but admire you. She thinks you look so pretty in your work clothes, even if they’re all ruffled up from your running and your hair is slightly tossed. She can’t help but want to be with y- wait, wait, wait—you have a child; she can’t be with you; you’re married, for goodness sake.

She turns around and sees you walking away with Eun waving back at her, “Byyyee, Ms. Manatozapi!”

“Bye Eun! See you tomorrow!” Sana happily sighs while watching you walk away from her sight, she's feeling guilty falling for who she thinks is a taken woman. “It’s Minatozaki,” she says to herself, chuckling.

────────────────────

“Why aren’t you outside with the other kids, Eun?” Sana asks the little girl, who’s busy doodling something with crayons,

“Oh, Ms. Minatoki!” The little girl beams up at her teacher. “Mmm, I just don’t feel like it today,” she shrugs, going back to coloring.

The older woman sighs, shaking her head with a smile, and takes a seat across from her. “It’s Minatozaki, Eun.” Sana looks at the girl who’s peacefully focused on the paper in front of her. “Sooooo,” she starts, “how’s your mom?”

That seems to get Eun’s attention, “You know my mom?” Sana looks confused. “Yes? She came to the open house, remember, and she picked you up that one time?”

Eun stared at Sana in disbelief. “You mean Auntie Y/N?”

Sana froze, Aunt? Oh, my god, you were her aunt. Sana felt like she had won the lottery. Eun swings her feet, looking at Sana confused, “Auntie Y/N always asks about you too,” she exposes.

“She asks about me?”

“Mhmm and she’s single.”

“Oh…that’s good to know.” Sana mumbles, a soft blush on her face, a paper slides in front of her, and Eun is looking at her with an innocent face.

“Maybe you should write your number down.” Sana looks at Eun, surprised. She laughs at the little girl’s action, picking up a crayon.

“You’re a little wingwoman, aren’t you?”

"You should pay me then, Ms. Minatozaki"

"You said my name right!"

"Well duh, it's going to be my aunt's name soon"

────────────────────

Later that night, when Sana’s getting ready for bed, she's humming a little tune she caught from one of her students. She was doing her skincare routine, her bathrobe loosely tied.

Her phone goes off, and her humming stops.

Hey Sana!

It’s Y/N! Got your number from Eun!

Sana��s smile grows, and if she wasn’t standing up right now, she would be kicking her feet, but the next little ding causes her eyes to widen.

You thought I was her mom?

#twice x reader #twice imagines #twice imagine #sana x reader #sana imagines #sana #twice

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itoshiexx · 10 months

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mi vida

synopsis: sae never thought someone could become his life, but that changed when you came.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 749 | warnings: established relationship, fluff

notes: welcome back to "things i wrote on a whim when my boss wasn't at the office"!! apparently i write a lot better in english without much planning, so yeah. this idea came to me based on a personal experience, since i call my boyfriend "minha vida" (which is the same for "mi vida"/"my life" in portuguese) and i never really thought i could consider someone to be my life before him.

i really really hope you like it, and i wanna thank you all so much for all the love you've given to Unworthy (but chosen), every note and follower made me super happy! <3

and also, i'm so sorry if my description of the spanish culture is not accurate and for any english mistakes!

during his time in spain, sae learned a lot of things. mainly, how to improve his soccer career even more, striving to become the best in the world after already being the best in his country.

he was a genius, of course, so it wasn’t really hard to learn the language or get acquainted with the city of madrid, which was a lot warmer than japan — in many ways. however, it was really fucking hard to get used to the customs of the spanish people and its culture, considering it was so different from the japanese. they were extremely welcome, and sae was anything but. if anything, he was even more closed than typical japanese people.

in spain, people were always greeting each other with a kiss on each cheek, showing off bright smiles and making conversation with strangers. friends talked loudly among each other, giving hugs and always touching somehow. the concept of personal space? totally nonexistent. in short, it was weird.

but nothing was weirder than couples.

the concept of love was already foreign to sae. he didn’t understand how a feeling could envelop one so much and make it forget about the rest of the world. he didn’t know how such an abstract thing, with no sense of logic whatsoever, could be so overwhelming to the point of taking one’s life completely, until all you could see, think and feel was your significant other.

most of all, he couldn’t fathom how someone could become your life.

“te amo, mi vida,” was what he used to hear an old couple say to each other. they were the owners of sae’s favorite restaurant, a small little place in the suburbs of Madrid, and always treated him with a kindness he didn’t deemed himself worthy of.

at first, he wasn’t able to comprehend what the sentence meant. he could barely write it on google translate to try to get its meaning, and he didn’t really care enough. though, as the time went by and sae became more fond of the couple, he eventually gathered the courage to ask the woman about it. and he was very surprised to hear the answer.

“it means ‘i love you, my life’,” she said, smiling from ear to ear and handing a glass of salted kombucha tea to sae. it was one of the reasons he adored the place so much — it was the only restaurant he found that served his favorite drink.

the older itoshi could only stare, dumbfounded, and mumble, “…why?”

the woman laughed at the boy’s naiveté. “why, you ask? because that’s what he is to me.”

sae only stared in silence, too stunned to speak.

“i… i don’t understand,” he confessed. it sounded silly, and kind of pathetic, but at that moment he didn’t really care. the woman gave another smile, this time an understanding countenance, and placed her wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

“you will understand one day, boy. and when your person comes, make sure to bring them here, right? i’d like to meet them!”

the soccer player wanted to tell her that it would never happen. that the itoshi sae had no time for foolish things like love, and he most certainly would never love someone so much to the point of seeing them as his life. his life was soccer, and his goal was to become the best in the world.

there was nothing else.

oh, how he bit his tongue.

it was at the age of twenty two when he entered the restaurant once again, and this time, not alone. you were walking by his side, with your hand intertwined in his, chatting excitedly while he just listened. a small smile was on his face, and his features were impossibly soft, in a way they only got around you.

you, who were light in the darkness, who were comfort after a long day of practice, who was the one he loved most. you, who was the definition of home in every sense of the word. the only one that could make his heart swell so much it made it hard to breathe.

he pulled your chair for you to sit like a true gentleman, and sat right next to you, always in need to touch you somehow. a hand was placed on your thigh while the other one opened the menu. and he turned to you, voice gentle like you could break:

“so, what would you like, mi vida?”

you, who was his life.

#bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock sae #sae x reader #sae fluff

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soothinglee · 12 days

Text

coffee shop breakdowns──★ ˙☕️ ̟ ¡!

| choi beomgyu x fem! reader ─ 2.69k wc✔︎

my notes⎯ i've always wanted to write something coffee shop au and at first i was going to write for yunjin of zb1 but change of plans lol ! (ill still write for yunjin in the future though !) I hope you enjoy, i tried to make it funny( 〃．．). (i know the ending is abrupt, it's 1 am and im exhausted and i really want to publish this). warnings⎯ swearing (mainly f bombs), mentions of exhaustion and overworking (?), and taehyun makes a brief appearance. songs⎯ 사랑으로; wave to earth

나의 작은 마음도 그 안에 작은 파도처럼 부서지고 밀려와선 네게 녹아내리고 그제서야 보이는 나의 영원

⎯ navigation✰ [requests are open]

THE COFFEE SHOP was always busy between 9 to noon, when the college students came in for a fix of caffeinated shots after staying up late cramming in assignments, or partying.

The line of people continued to grow until it reached the door, making it hard for newcomers to come in. Some opted to hop back into their cars and into the deserted drive-through. With each order came more glassware, covered in sticky toppings and cookie crumbs. Unfortunately for you, you always seemed to get scheduled on busy days. Even more unfortunate, the glorified task of dish duty was assigned under your name at the start of your 8-hour shift.

You reach up to nudge the tight knot on your apron's neck.

If exhaustion doesn’t kill you by the end of the night, the choker on your neck should do the trick.

After putting another load into the dishwasher, which was on its last leg due to its slight malfunction when you got a spoon stuck in the disposal, you bend over the sink. There was a slight twitch in your eye out of the sheer annoyance that yet another person went on their break when you had yet to get your own.

The screaming baby in dining is not helping the raging headache pounding in your temple.

“Will someone shut that thing up?” a grunt rises from your throat as you go to stand, wincing when your back cracks loudly.

In the corner of your eye, you see a hand place another dish in the black tub, and a laugh follows. “That's not a nice way to talk about a paying customer.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“If you think a baby works a 9-5 job, with enough money to afford a cup of coffee in this economy, you have another thing coming for you.” The rebuttal comes easy from your lips, months of practice and debates working in your favor with fast responses.

“I mean if they really put their mind to it, babies could take over the world.” The response is quick and witty, an unconscious choice of words followed by a playful hip bump that makes you keel over and onto the wall. Your knees were so close to giving in after standing all day. The thought of sitting on the floor, though covered in unidentifiable grit, seems like heaven for the joints. “Long day?”

A scoff leaves your lips as your head connects to the wall. A way of saying you have no idea. The weight of your eyelids grow heavier with every passing second. No matter how many times you try to keep them open, it’s to no avail.

You look like a toddler fighting sleep.

The question passes through one ear and out the other. Your co-worker waits for another second (perhaps for a response) then giggles when there is none. Though you can’t see him, you can vaguely imagine what he’s doing with all of the commotion going around the cramped space. There’s a slosh coming from the three-compartment sink, a rag hitting the dishes hurriedly, and then the dishwasher handle being pulled up paired with a strenuous huff.

“Holy fuck this thing is heavy,” is mumbled quietly as more thumping continues. Something in the more conscious part of you can't figure out if the room is spinning beneath the dark in your eyes or the headache that spreads itself to the base of your skull.

Where's Tylenol when you need it?

“Beomgyu,” The name comes out weak- a thick coat of fatigue blankets your throat. You clear it a couple of times before trying again. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

Please, please, please do it for me.

He stops pouring out the unused coffee grains to look down and give you a judgmental once over. His eyes flit to your frizzy wannabe ponytail that has one too many flyways, to the apron string on your shoulder that was one fast head turn to the man upstairs, and then to your jeans, that were covered ankles up in milk and chocolate sauce?

Beomgyu hopes that it's chocolate sauce.

With the way he looks at you, a fire lights your cheeks ablaze and you have to turn your head away from him. It feels like you're on RuPaul's Drag Race getting judged on the dress you made but it looks like a ten-can special and a bottle of mid-life crisis. The embarrassment wants to conceal itself with a “Bitch you don’t look better!” retort, but your mouth is glued shut.

“With the way you’re slouched over, I don’t think I have a choice.” He sighs almost pitifully, who knows for you or himself. Even though he was the one who willingly started doing your tasks for you. After a second the tap stops, and then some shuffles of footsteps. They become louder until it stops. “Get up, you look pathetic.”

Get up?

Without realizing it, at some point your body went dumb and slid itself onto the floor. It was a relief to be off your feet and to let your body rest but at the same time,, you can’t remember the last time these floors said hello to a mop and pine-sol. Oh boy. Good thing today is wash day.

“Can’t.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow and lets out an agitated breath. “The hell you can.”

“Can’t.” You repeat, throwing in a piteous whine, lifting up your arms so forcefully that he flinches back quickly. “Up.”

“(Name)…” The desperation in his voice is comical. He does not want to lift you like a child. “You are a grown woman, this is embarrassing for you.” He says it like multiple people are watching, a crowd to be sheepish around in your debilitation. You give him a look; eyebrows scrunched, lips upturned, and the worst case of stink eye. Your arms are still dangling limply in the air.

He hesitates for a second.

And another.

Then finally, he grabs you by the wrists, and for a second it feels like you’re flying. It seems as though he might have underestimated how much strength to put into the haul because after what feels like minutes in the air you go crashing into his arms.

“You need to take a shower.”

“And you need to change your clothes. Looks like you got shit on your pants.”

He maneuvers your arms first, throwing one of them over his shoulder while trying to keep you upright with his other hand. You were exhausted to the point where you couldn’t keep your eyes open, but not to the point where you couldn’t stand. You allowed yourself to fall limp to give him a hard time.

He struggles for a few seconds, panicking when you almost slip from his grasp. You can tell that he's nervous about holding you, the way his hands stutter trying to find a place to put them to hold you up. They move from your waist, to your side, to your stomach, finally finding its home in your belt loop. If that would’ve lasted any longer you would have just placed his hand wherever and told him to hurry the hell up.

“You don’t look any better,” you grab onto his left shoulder, holding the material in a tight grip because you do not trust Choi Beomgyu to keep you steady, “You got a little something…” there's a small smudge of coffee dust in the middle of his chest and you put your finger on it.

Beomgyu looks at you funny then at your finger, and after a moment a sly smirk plays on your lips.

What a dumbass.

With a slick flick of the finger you pop him in the nose. Effectively making him reel his head back in pain. “There.”

At his reaction you start to cackle loudly like a deranged person. You have to bend over to catch your breath, taking Beomgyu down with you. He tries to shimmy your hand off of his shoulder but you have an iron clasp, and after a moment he gives up seeing you aren't detaching yourself anytime soon. “Ow-! You bitch!”

There's an instant change of emotion. A sarcastic frown replaces the beaming smile. Beomgyu feels heat rising up his neck. For some reason, it’s not because he feels mad, but the way you're looking at him makes him feel…uncomfortable?

He’s unsure.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You reply, allowing him to drag you like a rag doll to the break table. A small school desk hidden behind an enormous ice machine that admits heat hotter than the Sahara.

“Nothing about you is considered ‘a lady’.”

“Girl fuck you.”

As you pass by the short hallway leading to the front a head peeks out of the main office. Tufts of black hair and wide eyes look around the corner towards Beomgyu (trying) holding you as you still cackle from the childish trick you pulled on him. The look on his face is indescribable, blank but definitely annoyed.

“Everything… okay out here?” Taehyun asks before he actually takes a good look at the two of you. After a second of staring he blinks, “Beomgyu, why are you holding (Name)?”

He points to you without looking and responds monotonously, “She’s going on her break now. Have Iseul take over for her in the meantime.” Taehyun nods and slithers back into the office without another word.

“Aww Beomgyu,” You coo, letting out a breath when he throws you into one of the two chairs, “You’re so sweet, you didn’t have to do this for me.” Your hand finds its way to his cheek, pinching the skin lightly like a grandma would a young child. Who knows why, but he allows it to happen a second longer, your face scrunched up affectionately as you mumble out praises.

He swats your hand away, rubbing at the reddened skin, “You’re right, I didn’t.” You frown again, “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart.”

“You have a heart?”

He doesn't say anything in response. His hand connects with your forehead, pushing it back with enough force that it sends you backward, leaning against the wall. There's a shout at the register that you can’t quite make out, but by the way, Beomgyu takes a glance at you and then back towards the cashier and then runs off, you can only imagine that it's regarding you and the lack of clean cups up front. Man forget those cups. Your entire body feels sluggish and your brain feels insanely heavy. A nap sounds so good right now but you're not even halfway through your shift and still have 5 hours left to complete.

Somewhere in the conscious part of your mind, you make a mental note to change your hours.

If you remember.

You don’t know how long it's been since Beomgyu left you but at some point you began to doze off. Roughly around NREM 1 and 2 a voice abruptly breaks the silence, “Whipped cream or no whipped cream?”

A snort leaves your mouth as you jolt up, startled. “What?”

“Whipped cream or no whipped cream?” He repeats back, irritation lacing his words as he taps his foot impatiently as if he has anywhere else to be.

“Um…” You respond after a moment, still not coherently present, “Whipped…cream…?”

Beomgyu nods his head once and disappears again.

He’s so fucking strange.

Your relationship with Beomgyu has always been a little weird. From the beginning when he first joined the team he was this nervous ball of energy, always messing up orders and occasionally spilling coffee on customers. You had, obviously, given him shit for it because it’s not that hard to mess up a latte. To your surprise that nervous energy made him a good fast talker because it took you two days to finally understand the insults he spat back. The next shift you two had together was not… pleasant, to say the least.

It was mainly a game of cat and mouse, you’d say something to aggravate him and he’d respond, and vice versa. It was fun, it kept you on your toes and gave you something to look forward to every time you had to work. Having a job at a coffee shop always keeps you moving and a lot more times than you’d like, it makes you extremely exhausted. Unfortunately, like today.

However, despite not being completely present- it made you realize that this was the first you’ve interacted so…civilly with Beomgyu. Sure, there were a few back-and-forth in the last forty-five minutes but still. You were mainly known as enemies so the fact that he didn’t ditch you to fend for yourself and did some of your work was surprising.

The feeling of perspiration on your fingers immediately wakes you up again. When you open your eyes you find Beomgyu back in front of you. Hands wrapped around a medium iced latte that was covered in a mountain of whipped cream. And funnily enough- chocolate sauce.

You choose not to say anything about how he didn't mess up this time.

“What's this?”

“What does it look like, dipshit? It’s coffee.”

You ignored the comment, “Okay yeah, duh, but why?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes and pushes the plastic cup to your hands. You don’t pick it up, “Look at you,” he starts, his eyes downcast towards the pool of water collecting on the table, “You can barely keep your eyes open. You work at a coffee shop, I thought you’d be smarter than this.”

You still don't pick it up.

Instead, you narrow your eyes at him.

“You poisoned this shit, didn't you?”

“Excuse me?” he crosses his arms defensively, “Why would I want to poison you?

You shrug, reaching up to toy with the straw. It looks so good. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Beomgyu lets a long exhale and aggressively pulls out the second chair, quickly taking a seat. He wastes no time grabbing on the straw and bending it slightly so it curves at the top and vigorously brings it to you lips. You pursed them and turned your head away, “I don’t wanna.”

“Stop acting like a child for a second and please drink. I am not your babysitter.”

“You probably spat in it.”

“I didn’t- you know what?” He hastily brings the straw to his own lips and takes a brief sip. “Mmmm- Mmm! Yummy! So good and no spit, Mmmm!”

You eye the drink and then his lips for a second indecisively before grabbing onto his wrist and bringing the drink to you. “Give me this, you freak.”

A pleased smile plays on his lips as he watches you almost down the entire thing in one sip. He doesn’t comment on how you still hold onto his wrist when you finished, or when you let out a satisfied sigh while staring at him…warmly?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why’d you make the drink?”

“Because you needed it…” he trails off but then adds, “And no one else can take the rest of your shift today so you need to wake up and do your job.”

You continue staring at him and Beomgyu can see the wheels turning in your head, then a burst of energy makes you sit up straight, pointing accusing a finger in his face. It wavers in the air as your eyes go to slits, trying to sniff him out. He tries his best to seem unaffected. There's a beat, and then, “You like me, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He shouts a little too loudly and defensively for someone who doesn't like you like that. He really doesn’t-

“Helping me with my work, finding my stand-in, covering for me, making me a drink to feel better.” You list off on one hand, the other one still attached to his wrist. He tries to pry your fingers off but you’re stronger than a bull. He’s not going anywhere, “If you don't like me like that then it seems that at least you want to be my friend.”

-does he?

thank you for reading ! (don't forget to like and reblog please !)

#x reader #x y/n #x you #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x fem! reader #coffee shop au #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fanfic #txt beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu x you #txt beomgyu x y/n #soothinglee #txt imagines #txt fanfic

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malikselfindulgence · 7 months

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RED SON X READER BLURB ☆ 1K WORDS

Description: How Red Son tends to show his love to his partner :3

Content: RED SON REFERRED TO WITH HE/SHE/THEY PRONOUNS! I personally see her as genderfluid but any hc is cool. Reader is gender neutral

Fic under the cut!

Red Son doesn't really ever say "I love you"

He might have whispered it once, but you were half-asleep in his lap and the warmth from his hands threading through your hair turned your brain to mush, so you could've been imagining it. Besides that, he's never said the dreaded L-word.

You're not sure why- perhaps an aversion to such disgustingly vulnerable words in general, or his parents hammering lesson after lesson of how displaying emotions so openly is weak. Or maybe it's a lot simpler than that, and the thought had simply never crossed his mind.

Red Son does love you, though. You know this, and they know it too. They tell you they "tolerate your company" and that you're "just adequate enough to be in their presence"- both code words for I like being with you.

Red Son's love is his driving force- it builds up in his chest and overflows out of him, despite his insistence that his heart is black and cold.

For her family, it's countless nights spent in her lab, working on their next plan to overtake the world, it's trying to live up to her father's legacy, not allowing a single smidge of dishonour to smight her family's name, it's continuing to live in the demon bull fortress, despite the fact that she's over 400 years old now and old enough to live in her own house.

For his friends, it's reminding them of their self worth when needed- however brash and blunt he may be, it's watching Mei's streams as he works, leaving small comments to show her he's listening, it's helping MK fix up his dreadful noodle-cart while begging him to put it out of its misery and purchase a new one already.

For you, however, it's a bit of a mix of these.

For the first few months of your relationship, it was a lot of trial and error. There was a cultural gap between you and Red Son, demon courting being completely foreign [and frankly concerning] to you. And even if there wasn't, Red Son had no relationship experience. They were still reeling from having friends now, never mind a romantic partner.

Red Son would try to read up on mortal's courting customs [or "dating", as he's come to learn], he'd sit through those crappy rom-com movies and shudder each time they did something over the top, he'd even thought about asking Mei for help, which was just wholly embarrassing, and he totally didn't try to subtly do so only for her to call him out on it and laugh immediately.

It started out with a lot of choppy romantic gestures that just weren't….Red Son, despite how hard he tried to enjoy them, and after a long conversation [or two, or three-], you two eventually found your rhythm, one you both enjoyed and found comfort in.

Red Son built you things- trinkets and machines and the like. If you mention off-handedly that you'd been wanting this thing for ages but just never had the money or time, you best believe they'll be showing up on your doorstep the following morning with a box hidden behind their back. They also fixed things for you- your fridge, your washing machine, your kettle. They grumble the whole time about how out-dated and rusty and repulsive your tech is, but they've never once turned down your requests. They've even offered to upgrade your TV a few times, but you're just too attached to the old thing.

Red Son spends a lot of time with you, even if you two aren't actively engaging in conversation. You'd sit across from each other, or in each other's laps, doing your own separate thing, just in each other's company. Every once in a while you pipe up with a random thought or question, and he shares his own as well before you two fall back into comfortable silence. You like watching him work with his hands, and he likes seeing how passionate you get over your hobbies. He shares parts of his life with you and you do so as well in turn.

Red Son's also shockingly touchy with you. She's not one for grand acts of physical affection- picking you up in public and hand-feeding you syrupy fruits and whatnot, but she will loop her pinky finger around yours when you walk, she'll kiss your forehead just before you head to bed, hug you from behind when she's freshly awake and still sleepily dazed, and once she gathers up the courage to do so, kiss you when her feelings rush through her body and send her hurtling towards you. She always has to be touching you in some way or another.

Most importantly, Red Son tries for you, and for themselves. They still mess up sometimes, they still get scared and terrified and defensive, they're still figuring themselves out, but they try for you. Red Son'll try out a new food just because it's your favorite, or will dabble in new music genres for your sake. Even more than that- Red Son tries to be more open, they try to talk about things they've never spoken aloud before, they try to listen to you- they start taking breaks more often, and eating better, and their self confidence rings a little truer and a little less fake each day. It's more than you could ever ask for.

So, no, Red Son doesn't really say "I love you", but you don't mind. You hear it in the shared space between the both of you, in the mugs of your favorite drink freshly brewed and handed to you when you're stressed, in the angry notes scolding you for not resting properly, in the brush of his hand against yours. You hear it loud and clear, and you whisper your response into his hair every morning, every evening, every night,

"I love you, too."

#malik's writing #requests opeenn!!!!#btwww #!!!!!!#send me requeststss!!!!#red son x reader #redson x reader #lmk x reader #lmk red son x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk headcanons #lego monkie kid headcanons #x reader #self insert

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flokali · 2 years

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post!imposter au where everyone is soooo desperate for your forgiveness. honestly, seeing so many of the genshin impact characters get on their knees and beg and cry for you had a sick and twisted sense of pleasure coursing through your veins.

so imagine telling zhongli that you would give liyue another chance if he became your disposable little sex toy. and the geo archon is already hard beyond belief, many of his fantasies coming to life as you stepped on his hard-on without a trace of shame, harshly rubbing your shoe against it. he comes a fucking lot and you have to punish him somehow once his cum stains your bare skin. he doesn't even remember why he was there in the first place, he just wants you to ride him until his balls are empty or rail him until his hole basically takes the shape of your cock. slap his face, tell him how stupid he is for not being able to recognize you as the real creator as he sobs sorries pathetically under you, coming for the nth time that night.

and imagine how whiney venti would be once he finds out about this. you should be fucking him!! not that boring old man!! please!! and he can act like he's doing it *for the sake of mondstadt* all he likes but you and morax know better. especially when he's humping your leg like a crazed, air-headed dog. he'd honestly be so desperate for you- i mean, your forgiveness, that he'd basically do anything that you ask of him.

alternative idea: everyone recognized you as the creator the moment you arrived in teyvat and months later you started a new custom in which you put hand-picked characters in a giant room and order all the characters to put on a show with each other (imagine all the ships, hehe) until you can eventually choose the best amongst them and add them to your new list of toys.

Warnings: yandere themes, sagau, gn! and dom reader, smut, mentions of cum, sub! venti and zhongli, implications of past mistreatment, jealousy, ask to tag.

Literally speechless at how big brained this concept is, like it’s genuinely god sent. This isn’t particularly long but just know I’m going to think about this everyday until I die.

18+ UTC

Zhongli is immediately intrigued when he hears about a way for you to possibly forgive Liyue and its people, his heart still ached at the memories of your past treatment. He wondered how exactly it was he could possibly make it up to you, he’d be willing to do anything – he had told you so himself – but he never expected your request to be so lewd, nor did he realize how much he would like the sound of it either.

It’s uncharacteristic how fast he replies, even when it comes to you; a contract is a contract and he prides himself in always analyzing each and every single one he, himself, partakes in. Maybe, you tease, it’s because all the blood that normally circulated around his brain flowed straight down into his dick.

He had always been a bit shameful, some habits die hard; even the ones he’s had for thousands of years, even if it includes some from his younger and more, let’s say, aggressive youth. All this to say, Zhongli had always thought of what it’d be like to have sex with his beloved creator.

He doesn’t even remember how or when his clothes were torn off, the normally pristine suit he always wore was sullied with dust as he kneels in front of you, he can’t even remember when his hard on had grown so painful; all he knew was that your feet feel too good rubbing his cock. His face begins to twist into one of unrecognizable pleasure, his normally wise and pristine personality long since crushed under the intense bliss he was feeling in the moment.

It’s funny, you realize, how even when clothed you could feel the way he pulsated with every touch, his face was turning impossibly red as he let himself be toyed with, he couldn’t help the way his breathing began coming out as pathetic pants, you wondered if maybe this was something he’d always wanted; to become someone’s toy.

You doubted the shoes you were wearing were comfortable down there but he didn’t seem to mind as the wet patch in his pants grew in size and dampness, it was pitiful how easily worked up he was. Eventually, you let him take off his pants, which he does in a manner too sloppy to have come from a man such as Zhongli, and you son come face to face with his dick, and maybe it’s the sudden release from its confinement in Zhongli’s trousers, they always did appear to be quite tight, or maybe he had been close to shooting regardless, because soon enough you find splatters of cum in your skin. The pearly liquid is thick as you scoop it out from your arm and it’s not hard to look down at the archon with a questioning look.

You chuckle as you slowly remove your underwear and clothes; “Already coming, Mr Zhongli? I’m afraid you still have an awful lot to make up for…”

The news of your sexual randevouz with the Geo Archon travels quickly through the winds to the eager, and jealous, ears of Barbatos, the deity of Anemo. It’s as such that he immediately requests your presence in his humble region under the pretense of a much needed apology.

That is, until you arrive – soon enough he’s throwing himself at your feet, tears in his eyes as he begs for your forgiveness. Oh, how was he so blind? To hurt you was the last thing he’d ever dreamt of, he can’t even live with himself for what he and his people have done!

With faux tears, and an aching cock, he asks what could he ever do to receive your blessed forgiveness before bringing up what the wind had carried.

The minute you agree he’s back on his knees, desperately humping your clothed legs, he was so grateful for how revealing his Archon outfit was because it only took a few movements until his cock was free and he could excitedly rub himself against your skin.

“I-I just can’t-t believe you’d go to that – oh, ah! Fu~ck! – that old hag first! He’s s-suchgh… a brute with no brain…!”

Venti makes sure not to cum on you nor your clothes, completely and utterly focused on not commuting the heinous crimes his fellow archon had given way to. It’s incredibly hard to part his cock from your body but he makes sure to angle his cum in a way that will ensure your precious skin is clean.

“S-see? ‘M nothing like that- hmm?” You decide to just kiss and shut him up, “Ahh~ My lord, hah, if you wanted to kiss me s-so badly… you could’ve just said so… heh.”

He lets you unrobe him, in fact, he relishes in the way you undress his form; the intimate way you tug and pull at his clothes is so enchanting to him, he’s basically panting by the end.

“Oh no,” he moans, letting you push him on the marble table, “what will you do to me? Don’t tell me you’ll defile~ No! Don’t leave, please! I was just joking, your grace, you know I want you, I want you so bad… just, use my body~ Please?”

By the end of the night, his beautiful voice is but a mere whisper, his throat long since hoarse from screaming and moaning.

“Ha-ah!” Tears swell in his pretty, round eyes, “Ye-esh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou- hghhh…!”

Now, all you have to do is see if Ei will take your offer too.

#๋࣭ offerings #๋࣭. hidden devotee #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #yandere venti #yandere morax #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere #yandere au #sagau #yandere sagau #zhongli smut #venti smut #yandere harem #yandere male x reader #male yandere

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Dream's a software developer (I could see either as an architect for that large-scale view mentality or as the Senior level dev that keeps getting asked to move into management type positions and just straight up refuses because he's been doing code happily for the past fifteen years and doesn't plan on changing that now).

He enjoys his job enough. He likes computers and code. It functions exactly as told (for better or worse) and appreciates the straightforwardness of it all. He's a bit insufferable to work with, but if you have an issue, he'll readily help (just be prepares for critiques on your code in the process).

Hob works at the same company as Dream, but as a front-end dev. The work he does for his day job is kinda boring. All standard corporate style web design. No fancy scripts or fun colors. But in his spare time, he weaves Javascript and CSS like a wizard and creates magical, animated scenes across the page. Would it be easier to just make a video and play it on the page instead? Sure, but where's the fun in that?

Dream and Hob get paired together on a small side project for work. Hob does the front-end work, Dream does the back-end. They get on each other's nerves at first, until Dream spots Hob tinkering with his personal code on their lunch break and is honestly a bit in awe. He's found code beautiful in its own right (the way one appreciates a well-oiled machine) but he's never seen it wielded in such a fashion before. This is the moment he falls just a little bit (read: a lotta bit) in love with Hob. He was already starting to fall for that endless charm and wit of his anyways.

The company hits the first quarter of the New Year and with it come layoffs. Hob gets fired along with some other devs from Dream's same team (a younger pair of devs: Matthew and Jessamy). A fellow named Will comes along to help Dream finish the project in Hob's stead and Dream hates every moment of it. He misses Hob, more than he ever thought he would.

So, in an impulsive rush of anger and longing, he quits the company because how dare it toss someone as good as Hob Gadling out the door without a thought? He's halfway to the café he and Hob had started frequenting together when he realizes that he's just thrown away a career fifteen years in the making. But when he finally gets to the café and sees Hob tapping away on his laptop, he knows he's made the right choice.

Dream slides into the seat across from him and proposes that they build something wonderful together. So they create a small business of their own. They become a freelance web dev team (and steal Jessamy and Matthew as well) and with their skills combined, they take off. It's not huge, but for their size, they're incredibly popular. And Dream's certain he's never enjoyed his work more than when he's working beside Hob.

Later on, Hob proposes to Dream via a custom website with the most beautiful web animations he's ever seen before. And of course, he says yes.

(If you're curious about what inspired this, here's the website: http://www.species-in-pieces.com)

This is such a good concept for a story!!! I really really love aus where Dream and Hob are coworkers. Dream being the grumpy, awkward guy who hides behind his coffee mug while Hob is the popular, chatty one who tries to get Dream involved in fun office activities or socialising after work - it makes so much sense to me.

And Dream quitting his long-term dream job because he's mad that genuinely talented people have been laid off? I love it. Dream just has this inate appreciation for hard work and good art, and that's exactly what Hob (and Jessamy and Matthew) do. How dare the stupid company not understand that they're firing people who deserve to thrive and grow in an environment which actually appreciates them? Everyone is shocked that Dream has quit (not only that, he sends around an email to everyone in the company from the ceo all the way down to the work experience guy, outlining exactly why he quit) because he seemed to be the type to play by the rules and never leave his comfort zone. Apparently, Hob has really helped him bloom into a much more confident person, able to express his principles and strive for better.

And Hob isn't surprised, because he always knew that Dream had the courage, talent and ambition to strike out on his own. Maybe he just needed a bit of love and understanding. Which Hob is only too happy to provide.

Their work together sometimes involves long hours and stress, but Dream wouldn't ever want to go back to the slightly soulless corporation where he used to be. Even if he's tired and a little frustrated by Hob’s disorganised workspace, Dream is perfectly content. There's nothing better than curling up in Hob’s lap while he taps away on a line of code. Plus, he has a great time building their wedding website. Hob got to propose, so Dream gets to celebrate their upcoming marriage with his own expression of love through code. The theme colours are, of course, black and red <3

#kydrogendragon #the sandman #dreamling

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breezybangtanbebe · 4 months

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💭❤️‍🔥Boyfriend Hoseok❤️‍🔥💭

The Gentle Giant Boyfriend

Emotionally💕:

Hoseok is no stranger to attention. Everything about him, from his handsome face and healthy physique to his fashion sense and warm personality, he attracts just about anyone with eyes and a pulse. But everything was different with you.

You werent one of the typical cases fan girling over his persona or obsessing over his body parts. (something I honestly think is a big ick for him but he just tolerates it because of how much of a people pleaser he tends to be.)

On your first date, you barely even looked at anything below his chin and held him in your eyes for most of the conversation..

"You have really pretty eyes.." you remarked, stirring your drink mindlessly with your cheek resting in the palm of your other hand.

Hoseok's mouth twitched in a tiny reluctant smile of confusion. He too toyed with the straw of his drink, mashing the ice cubes about before taking a sip.

"Um..thank you." he swallows, blinking as if he were on the brink of choking. It wasn't hard to fluster him, you picked up on that early on when you met him at that pottery class you took up as soon as the pandemic was over. Any reason to get out of that apartment that felt even smaller when you had no where else to go.

It was his eyes that caught your attention first, mainly because it was all you could see of his face since the mask mandate was still enforced. Apart from his hulking frame under his oversized hoodie and the way his massive legs made the stool he was perched on look like it was designed for a child, there was a soft innocence there when he focused his fingers on the sepia ball of clay.

When he wasn't focused, those eyes had a way of finding you on the other side of the room, looking away bashfully when you felt his stare..

Crinkling cutely when the teacher made a joke.

Widening comically when the perfectly shaped bowl he was working on collapsed into a squishy warped ball of disaster.

This went on for a few weeks before he finally worked up the nerve to sit beside you at the beginning of the next class, introducing himself. Up close, you got an even better gauge of his size.

"Good lord he must work out every day.." you thought, but its only on your mind for a second after resuming eye contact when he asked you a question.

The most gorgeous combination of browns melded in the ridges of his irises. From afar you couldn't notice but this close, you couldn't see anything but those eyes. Eyes that told so much about a man you hardly knew.

Honesty.

Joy.

Sadness.

Pain.

Soul.

It was you who asked him for his number despite him being the one to ask if he could see you again outside of class. So you did, grabbing tea and coffee at the bakery near the pottery studio.

"Youre blushing again." you smirk triumphantly and Hoseok immediately resents himself for being such an easy read. Without his mask to hide behind, you were given a full view of his face that was as equally charming as his eyes.

The colored apples of Hoseok's cheeks lift slightly as he shook his head in pure denial.

"No Im not."

"Im looking right at you. What do you mean?" You tease and Hoseok tucks his lips against each other to fight his bodies natural response to flattery.

"Its the steam from the tea or something, I don't know.." he shakes his head again, turning his head at the bakery's door chime as a few customers walked in and you couldn't help but think it was to hide the way his blush worsened. There was no steam. He wasn’t even drinking tea so the excuse was as ridiculous as it was adorable.

It made you smile knowing he was this affected and you vaguely wondered what else your attention to detail could do.

"If you say so.."

You were different to him because you saw him in ways others didn’t. No one compliments a man’s eyes when all attention is on his body. The amount of times he caught women and men alike struggling to keep eye contact when he wore a fitted shirt that accentuated his upper body. And while he did work diligently to achieve such a body, it felt good to be seen and not just something to look at. Which in his profession,was often a feeling he faced.

Water signs tend to be very emotionally connected and Hoseok will know what youre feeling before you say anything because he's just that observant. That's just him. He can walk into a room and get a gauge of everyone's energy and while he may not show it, he's affected by it.

He appreciates a person thats similar. Someone who can tell when he's bothered or uncomfortable but too polite to express it. He appreciates someone who can anticipate his needs the way he will anticipate yours. And he absolutely would. If you like coffee in the morning and he's up before you, he puts on a pot because he knows you hate waiting for it. He'll put things within your reach without thinking about it. He’ll cover sharp corners with his hand if you bend down suddenly too near them. Just a quiet caretaker.

He's very emotionally intelligent (it took him going through ALOT to get this way) , and he too has very little patience for games or things that don't make sense. So talk to him about your feelings vs acting impulsively. Don't push him away when you're upset. He may chase you for a little while but if you're not reciprocating his energy , he'll lose interest.

Physically💋:

Very reserved in front of others because he's just polite but will hold your hand and kiss you proudly in public. He keeps it cute though, nothing outlandish.

He is the jealous type so if someone is looking at you a bit too hard, expect him to mark his territory with one of those little kisses. Or a few.

In private, He's big and warm and soft and hard all at the same damn time. Hoseok loves cuddling,prefers to be the big spoon most of the time because he feels like he's protecting you but occasionally enjoys curling his big ass into you while your massage his scalp until he falls asleep.

He's much more touchy feely. Lots of stolen kisses and booty grabs. Although I predict that you'd be most inclined to want to touch him all day because...well. Look at him🌚

It was a day worth shutting the world out for. Raining and relentless. Plans were cancelled ,alarms were snoozed and clothes were optional at Hoseok's apartment.

Its been several months since that day in the bakery and those routine meet ups next door to the pottery class evolved into evenings spent at his place. He'd been to yours plenty but you preferred being with him at his because his felt more comfortable.

Plus he had all the snacks.

The morning light creeped its way despite the sun being hidden and the bed felt much too big when he wasn't in it. So after pulling on one of his t-shirts and slipping into his bathroom to freshen up, you were relieved to find the object of your desire in the kitchen.

He's shirtless with his magnificent back on display for you as you watched him busy with something on the counter. His hair was wild, sticking up in all directions and his pajama pants hung just low enough on his hips for those two delicious dimples to be visible.

You stepped silently over the warm wood floors, one bare foot after the other until you were creeping up behind him.

Hoseok flinched a little when you snaked your arms around his waist but he soon relaxes at the feel of your lips pressing against the middle of his back.

"Hi.." you grumble against his warmth, skimming the tip of your nose over his skin. Hoseok chuckles softly as one of his hands covers your two that clasp below his naval.

"Morning. Did I wake you?" He looks over his shoulder and you shake your head, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.

"Just missed you." You respond sleepily and the sound of it has him chuckling softly.

"Ive been up for less than ten minutes.." he chides and you shrug.

"10 minutes too long. I got cold. What are you doing anyway? I thought you had nothing to do today." You mumble, peaking around his body to spot him organizing several different types of capsules into little baggies.

"Im putting my supplements together for when I go out of town next week."

"Oh yeah.." you say. You return to nuzzling his muscular back, settling in the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades with a solemn sigh.

Detecting you sulking, Hoseok takes one of your hands and pries it from his tummy to lift towards his face.

"Its just a few days. Don't pout, big baby.."

A gentle kiss to your knuckles was all it took to send a tingle through your body, making you tighten the back hug you had him in . Your affection evolves due to an intrusive thought and you accentuate the embrace with an unexpected bite of his flesh. Your teeth pinch a healthy bit of skin between them and you pull back on the release.

His yelp makes you snicker evilly and you soothed the faint toothmarks with a few kisses before pulling away from him.

"Look who's talking.." you tease.

He didn't appreciate the way the temperature changed the moment you weren't touching him and he turns around, spotting you leaning against the kitchen island. This had to have been the moment he realized you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt, noting the stiffness of your nipples poking through the fabric.

His gaze drops from your breasts to your shapely thighs that were unsubtly pressing against each other.

With a sultry look in your eye, you smirked up at him as you hopped up on the marble countertop and spread your legs just enough to hint at your lack of panties. Not that any hint was needed.

If you had any on, it wouldn't be for long.

Sexually💦:

Hoseok seems like a massive giver. So he's not at all a selfish lover. Whatever your satisfaction requires, he's pretty open to it if its not uncomfortable. If any kinks, I could see some bondage or food play. Maybe some sensory deprivation. Hes not afraid of toys at all. I actually imagine him owning some of his own for his solo sessions.🌚

Not super dommy. If anything, he's a switch (both dom and sub depending on the mood). When he's the dom, he teases your body alot with whatever he has at his disposal.

He praises you heavily and rewards you. Would much rather do that than punish you, but if he has to, he confirms that all of those muscles aren't just for show. He'll never hurt you though, thats actually one of his worst fears so don't expect him to get TOO TOO rough. Some hard slaps on the ass and a hand around the throat might be aa far as he'll go with you. Even then, hes very careful.

As a sub, he's very bratty and mischievous. He wants the punishment 100%. He wants you to talk shit, scold him, pull his hair a little. He wants you to make him feel small even though hes literally a hulk. Some orgasm denial would drive him crazy. But once you finally let him cum, put as much into the aftercare as he would for you. Talk to him nice and touch him alot. Slow Kisses with lots of tongue.

He's an ass man. Touching your booty actually brings him some sort of comfort, like a human stress ball. In the morning, its customary for him to rub yours for at least a minute when he greets you. He probably enjoys eating you out from the back so he doesn't have to waste time bending you over after. I also think he's most attracted to thick women🌚. He just gives me that vibe.

Large hands grip your ass underneath the tshirt,holding you up with your legs wrapped around him as he walked you back to the bedroom.

Your lips suckle his bottom lip, making him groan and squeeze you when you lips finally part to invite him in. Hoseok wasn't a sloppy kisser by far, always intentional with each stroke of his tongue and little nibble of your lips. He's passionate and most dominant when his tongue needled its way in and massaged yours.

You let him in gladly, earning a grateful sigh from him as you sucked his tongue greedily.

That always turned him on and you simulated the way you planned to suck him off by bobbing your head slowly, slurping his tongue loudly and shamelessly until it's too much for him.

You giggled when he tossed you on the bed, bouncing against the fluffy white comforter as he climbed on top of you. He cages you under the canopy of his huge body and doesn't hesitate to snatch his t-shirt from your body.

Now that he had you naked again, his lips found every place begging to be kissed.

Your neck.

Your nipples.

That spot just below your breast.

With both of your hands trapped under his above your head, Hoseok teased your body with his tongue until your back was arching from the bed.

He was kissing a trail down from your naval to the mound of stubbly skin of your pelvis. You felt you needed to shave but Hoseok didn't give a damn about some hair. In some ways he preferred it because he could smell you so much better that way.

His chin grazes your clit and making you twitch, making him smile against your skin.

"That sensitive huh? What am I gonna do with you?" He teases, moving down to hold you at your hips. You lift up just in time to watch his tongue extend and flick a few times over the throbbing nub before sucking on it obscenely hard.

You called his name again but he ignores you, simply combining flicking and sucking on your clit in favor of paying you any mind.

Seems as though he had his mouth set on your pussy for breakfast from how he alternated between sucking your clit and tonguing at your hole.

He knew what he was doing and you could keep your composure anymore. Damn his neighbors, they would just have to hear you.

Your hand found its way to his messy bed head, tugging at the strands from the scalp. He moans with his lips wrapped around you, the vibration of his tone making your legs shake.

Without warning, Hoseok pulls away from your heat and pulls you up by your arm. He grabs you by the neck gently to kiss you as he was before. But instead of him tasting like mouth wash and strawberry yogurt, he tasted like you.

With your legs spread wide enough to fit his huge frame, you hooked them over his hips to lock him in place. He chuckles at the desperation he felt on your lips, guiding you down to lay on your back one more.

"What baby...what it is it?" He asks, eyes black as night on yours. Long gone were those innocent eyes you'd fallen for at first.

Hoseok reached between your bodies to pick up where he left off, strumming over you back and forth.

Back and forth.

Your mouth gaped in a gasp when he upped the pace, rubbing you so good that you were sure you'd cum any second.

"Baby..please yess yess yess.." you cry and Hoseok kissed your trembling lips casually.

"Feels good?" He asks and you hum in response.

"More?" He lifts his brow.

"More..more.."you pant, now gripping the hair at his nape. With that, his fingers slipped inside of you, fucking you slowly as his tongue found yours. You moaned senselessly amidst kissing and Hoseok only took that as you begging for his fingers to go deeper.

"Is this what you want, baby? Hmm? Want me to suck on this pretty pussy some more? Wanna cum on my tongue like you did last night?" He mumbles, planting another wet pussy flavored kiss on your lips as he awaited your response.

"Please.." you shudder, too lost in the way his fingers went back to toying with your clit to kiss him back properly.

But this was how he wanted you anyway and he was only getting started.

Love Language:

I believe our big boy is a Gift giver/receiver and Physical touch. The gifts don't have to be expensive (even though he will for sure spend his monies on his gifts he gives you), it just matters to him that you know what he likes and that you're thinking of him. And touch on that man. Big boys need love too.

Quality time is big for him as well. He just wants you around. It doesn't have to be for any specific reason. Just be there and exist with him.

Pet names/Terms of endearment:

Calls you his baby or his world. Not much in between. He's very playful and light hearted so you might be his brat or headache from time to time, but takes his relationships very seriously. You don't have worry about any fear of commitment with him. Once he's locked in, you've got him.

So dont hurt him please🥹 He's very soft hearted.

#monsta x smut #changkyun #jooheon #wonho #hyungwon #shownu #kihyun #minhyuk #changkyun smut #hyunwoo #monsta x boyfriends #monsta x fanfic #monsta x #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #wonho smut

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ageofwagner · 9 months

Text

Clone a Jake

pairing: Jake Kiszka x fem!reader

summary: Jake surprises Y/N with a special gift to keep her fulfilled while he's away on tour.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! oral m & f receiving, sir kink (kinda), explicit language, slight overstimulation, use of sex toys, slight degradation, bad grammar. (lmk if I missed anything!)

word count: 5.2k+

a/n: hey guys! I've had this idea for too long and I just had to write it for all my Jake girlies (gn) <3 since this is the first one I’ve done, any feedback is greatly appreciated! also, let's not talk about the research I had to do about cock molds <3

masterlist

The beginning of the Starcatcher World Tour was just a couple weeks away and while Jake was eager to get back on stage and do what he loves most, he was torn about having to leave his love behind once again. Though Y/n has been there by his side since the beginning, it never got easier having to part ways when he had to leave for months at a time while touring the world.

Y/n was always supportive of Jake and the rest of the band, who she considers to be just like her own family; she joins them on the road when she can, though it isn't nearly as often as they had hoped. While the two are together, they are inseparable in every sense of the word, it's as if their souls were designed from the same stardust; a perfect match.

The nature of their relationship came with its fair share of obstacles, between the differences in time zones and long days, it was difficult, yet the two of them always found time for each other. Communication, while long distance, was an obstacle that could be easily overcome, but the one thing that Jake felt he couldn't remedy was the physical aspect of their relationship.

It was no secret that Y/n and Jake were usually all over each other, often times Sam would make a point of loudly gagging at their PDA wherever they went. It's safe to say that, while apart, the lack of intimacy was something they both hated. There were always other ways for them to recreate some semblance of intimacy, and relieve each other despite the distance, but it never came close to the real thing. Suggestive texts and late-night facetime calls got the job done but the lack of physical touch was hard, and Jake hated leaving his girl alone and unfulfilled. The two of them were no strangers to experimenting with toys in the bedroom, but Y/n had always insisted that it could never match the feeling of him stretching her, no matter what she tried while he was away.

Jake kept mulling over the idea of how he could keep his girl satisfied while on the road, knowing how much she loves the feeling of him filling her up. Keeping what Y/n had said in mind, Jake thought of the possibility for him to create a personalized dildo for her to use while he was gone, that way she could still be full of him no matter where he is. He did some research, seeing how he could pull it off, and quickly discovered there are several kits available for you to customize your own sex toy. Selecting the first website, he laughs at the title 'Clone-a-Willy' He finds exactly what he was looking for, adding the item to his cart and selecting the fastest shipping option available, eager to give it to his girl.

Jake anxiously waited for the package to arrive and hoped that Y/n wouldn't accidentally open it thinking it was one of hers, or ask him what it was. Thankfully, the package arrived while Jake was home alone; he didn't have much time so he quickly opened the package, read the instructions, and began mixing the molding powder with water. He ignored the initial feeling of embarrassment before prompting himself to get hard, just thinking about Y/n using a replica of his cock had him rock hard within minutes. He filled up the cylinder with the molding mixture and carefully inserted his cock, holding it there for two minutes. After removing his member from the mold, and piecing the remnants of his dignity back together, Jake got to work mixing the silicone and skin color powder before pouring the mixture into the mold. Finally, he carefully inserted the vibrator which he had added as a little something extra to make his girl feel good. The dildo needed to sit for 24 hours so Jake decided to hide it in the back of the closet in his office until then.

The next day Jake was eager to check on the mold, he had less than two weeks left with his girlfriend before he had to hit the road again and he wanted to test it out on his girl before leaving. He carefully peeled the mold away and found that it turned out perfectly, much to his relief. While attempting to ignore how bizarre it was that he was holding a silicone replica of his cock, he hoped that his girl would love it almost as much as she loved the real thing. Jake couldn't keep the secret much longer, so with a crooked smile on his face he pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Y/n, cluing her into the gift he got for while he's away on tour.

To say that Y/n was intrigued by this was an understatement. She knew that they had less than two weeks before he would be leaving for a few months, and though she always insisted that he didn't need to get her anything, Jake loved planning small moments together and would surprise her with things like these more than usual in the months leading up to a world tour. Y/n stared at the clock urging the minutes to go by faster, it seemed like hours before it finally hit 6:00 and she eagerly made her way to her car, shooting Jake a quick text letting him know she was on her way home.

Y/n walked through the front door to find that there were lit candles throughout their home, a vinyl quietly playing from the living room, and the smell of Jake's homemade pasta that she always said she loved so much. She smiled to herself while kicking off her shoes and padding through the house to find Jake with his back turned to her, quietly singing along to one of her favourite songs, this man really does not miss any detail she thought. She slowly crept behind him wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder causing him to jump at the unexpected contact. She giggles at him "Hi honey" she says sweetly, he turns around and melts into her embrace, gently cupping her cheek before placing a kiss in her lips, "Hi" he smiles, turning back around to finish the dinner he made for them.

Y/n moves to stand beside him, studying him carefully "So..." she begins, he raises an eyebrow at her urging her to continue, "What's the occasion?" he smirks at her "Who said there had to be an occasion? I just wanted to spoil my girl" he says, winking. She feels her face heat up, despite being together for 7 years, Jake still made her blush like a school girl with a crush for the first time.

After finishing dinner and a bottle of wine, Jake popped open a second, topping up their glasses as they moved to the living room, lit up solely by candles, the soft hum of a new vinyl playing in the background. He moves to sit next to Y/n on the couch and she turns to face him, perching an arm on the back of the couch, resting her hand on her palm as she looks at Jake, noticing he seemed to be lost in thought.

Jake finds himself suddenly apprehensive about the whole idea, how was he supposed to bring up the surprise? Would she hate it or think it was stupid? What if she took it the wrong way? What if- "Hey, did you hear me?" he blinks a few times, not realizing he spaced out, "Sorry" he chuckles. She inches closer resting her hand on his knee, "Is everything okay love?" he meets her gaze, sighing "Yeah, it's just" he pauses trying to find the right words "I got you something, the surprise I mentioned earlier, and I'm worried you won't like it" he looks at her nervously. "This," she gestures to the dining room and candles "Wasn't the surprise?" he laughs "Of course there's more, I'd give you the world if I could. You know that" She leaned forward, tightly clasping his hand in her own, "First, you didn't have to get me anything" she gently scolds "and second, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it, especially since you put so much thought behind all of this" she assures him "It's a bit unconventional" he admits making her laugh softly "I've never been one for what's conventional" she smiles "C'mon Jake, you won't scare me away" he studies her for a minute before standing, collecting their wine glasses and placing them on the table, he extends his hand for her to take, "right this way then" he winks, all nerves temporarily dissipating her her reassurance as he leads her to their shared bedroom.

Y/n stands by the edge of the bed, waiting for Jake to make the first move. As if he could read her mind, he steps closer moving her hair from her neck and tucking it behind her ear as he leans in to trail kisses from her jaw down her neck, grazing his teeth and biting gently before kissing over it again. He pulls away to see her biting her lip, and he makes a noise of disapproval, "You know the rules" he scolds, leaning in, he takes her bottom lip between his own, biting softly. "I want to hear every noise that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours, understand?" he pulls away, waiting for her confirmation, "Yes sir" he smirks at her already seemingly fucked out state, the lust clear in her eyes "good girl"

Jake slowly moves them backward until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, she lays back as he slots himself between her legs, taking his time biting and kissing from her neck down to her navel at an agonizingly slow pace.

She whines at his teasing, squirming under his touch as he places a kiss on her clothed heat, making his way up her body and taking her lips in a searing kiss. He drags his tongue across her lips asking for entrance and quickly takes control as she wraps her legs around his waist, fumbling to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt. As she pops open the last button he pulls away, both breathing heavily, she looks up at him, a mixture of confusion and frustration painted across her face as he gets off the bed.

He turns to face her with a smug look on his face, "you ready for your surprise?" she huffs at him "I just want you." she moves off the bed, standing inches in front of him before whispering in his ear in a sultry voice, "can the surprise be your cock?" she takes his earlobe between her teeth, pulling slightly. "I've been a good girl, sir" his breath hitches as he leans in, their lips barely brushing before he orders "Go lay down, I'll be right back" leaving her with a light smack on the ass.

Jake makes his way to his office to retrieve the gift from its hiding place, feeling reassured by her desperation for him, maybe she would love the gift after all. He walks back into their bedroom to find his girl in nothing but one of his shirts, groaning at the sight of her with her legs spread just enough to see she had removed her underwear as well.

He sits on the edge of the bed gesturing for her to join him, she bites her lip in anticipation as Jake pulls out a black gift bag "Close your eyes" she does as he asks with a giddy smile on her face "now give me your hand" he takes her extended hand, directing it towards him so she can hold the bag, "use your other hand and slowly reach into the bag" she can feel her pulse quicken, hesitating slightly before carefully sticking her hand into the bag.

As she pushes past the tissue paper she feels something long and firm, wrapping her hands around it she feels ridges on it, wait it almost feels like-"What does it feel like?" she heard him whisper as she continued to examine the item; she trailed her fingers up to the top and instantly knew what it was. But why did he get us another one? They already had a collection of various toys to experiment with. "I don't-" she cut herself off, trying to organize her thoughts "Jake, you didn't have to get me another, we already have" he started fidgeting with his hands, worried that she didn't like the gift.

Trying to keep his nerves down he instructs, "Keep your eyes closed for a minute and focus on what it feels like" she obliges, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration as she examines the item with her hands. She pulled the dildo out of the bag, wrapping both hands around it, trailing her fingers underneath the length of it she gasped quietly. Jake held his breath in anticipation as she repeated the motion, feeling his cock twitch at the sight of his girl stroking a replica of him.

Y/n knew what it was as soon as she felt the underside of the dildo, it felt exactly like Jake's, it was unmistakable; she had always loved running her tongue along the underside of his cock, the prominent vein that would throb as she gave him head. Her mind was swirling with questions as she repeated the motion, Jake's eyes were glued to her every movement, only tearing them away when she began to speak again, "I don't underst- how did you...is this you?" she stutters out, unable to sort the thoughts racing through her mind.

"Open your eyes" She opened them, her gaze immediately falling to her hands, examining the personalized toy carefully, "how did you do this? It looks and feels so real" he shot her a smile, "I'll answer all your questions later, right now I'd like to test it out, just to make sure it works"

Y/n looks at him with a smirk on her face, "So you're telling me I now have two of my favourite cock, to use however I'd like?" hearing her say that made his cock twitch yet again "anything you want. Tonight is all about you."

She sat up straighter, thrumming her finger on her chin, feigning contemplation, "strip," she demanded, though it sounded like more of a question; Y/n was rarely in charge as they both loved when Jake was in control in the bedroom. He smirked at her as he stood, slowly slipping the already unbuttoned shirt from his body, letting it fall to the floor as he moved to undo his belt. She felt her wetness pooling between her thighs as she focused on his hands sliding his pants down and stepping out of them.

She quickly slid from the bed and perched on her knees, already working to remove his boxers when he grabs both her wrists, scolding, "Babe tonight is supposed to be all about you" She sat back on her heels as she looked up at him "so we'll do anything I want, right?" he nods in confirmation, she inches forward pulling his boxers the rest of the way down before looking up at him through her lashes.

"Good because I really want you to choke me with your cock" Jake's gaze darkened as he called out her name in a warning tone "It's what I want" she replies sweetly. Jake's demeanor shifted "Then you know what to do, ask nicely" She grinned up at him in victory, "Can I please suck your cock, sir?" he smirks "Such a good girl, go ahead."

Y/n wasted no time wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, she pumped him a few times before running her thumb over his reddened tip, collecting his precum. She looked up to find him staring intently at her as she put her thumb in her mouth, making a show of slowly licking it clean, "no teasing" Jake gritted out between clenched teeth. She pumped him a few more times while holding eye contact, challenging him.

Leaning closer, she licked a bold stripe on the underside of his cock from base to tip, coaxing a shuddered breath from him. Unable to wait any longer, she took his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip as Jake moved her hair out of her face, holding it in a makeshift ponytail while Y/n worked to fit his length down her throat, inch by inch. He made sure not to hold back his moans, knowing how much it turned his girl on when he let her know how good she made him feel.

His head fell back, a deep moan coming from his throat as Y/n took him all the way down and swallowed around his length, trying not to gag. She took a second to adjust, focusing on breathing through her nose as she moved back, almost releasing him from her mouth before deepthroating him again. Jake tightened his grip on her hair, holding her against his base, groaning as he felt her swallow around him again, gagging.

He released his hold allowing her to breathe before she took his full length down her throat once again, a surprised moan falling from Jake's lips as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. He quickly understood what she wanted, adjusting his grip on her hair, he moved to thrust his hips into her, "Does my little slut like it when I fuck her throat, hm?" She let out a broken moan in response, the vibrations making Jake's cock twitch in her mouth, causing him to abruptly pull out.

Y/n took a few deep breaths as she glared at him "I wasn't done" he smiles at her as he extends a hand to help her up, "As much as I would love to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, I'd much rather cum in your pretty pussy" Y/n could feel her face heat at his comment, subtly trying to relieve some tension by rubbing her thighs together. Jake noticed her movements, a cocky smile on his face as he taunted, "I bet that pussy is weeping for me, isn't she?"

Pulling the shirt she stole from Jake over her head, she climbed on the bed, propping herself against the pillows and spreading her legs, "Wanna find out?" Jake stood there admiring her, his eyes exploring her body as he joined her on the bed, "that's my girl" he stated proudly, slotting himself between her spread legs.

Leaning in, he trailed kisses down her neck, biting harshly just above her collarbone and placing a kiss overtop the forming bruise. He continued until he reached her chest, taking time to pay extra attention to each of her nipples, sucking them into his mouth, biting slightly as she tangled her fingers in his hair, moaning his name. Jake continued kissing and caressing his way down her body at the same agonizing pace, he shifted lower down the bed so his face was hovering directly above where she needed him most.

Looking up at her with a teasing smile, he blew cool air on her soaked core, making her squirm. Her voice was dripping with desperation as she moaned his name, wiggling her hips toward him, begging him to relieve the building tension. Jake would normally punish her for using his real name instead of 'sir' but tonight he loved hearing her so desperate for his touch in the way she begs for him and how her body responds to his slightest touch.

Desperate to taste her, he licks a bold stripe from her entrance to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud before sucking it into his mouth. Y/n let out a breathy moan, reaching her hand down to lace her fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper into her core. Jake moaned at the sting, the vibrations causing her to squeal and clamp her legs closed around his head. He pulled away, slapping her thigh, "Spread your legs and keep them open, I'm not done tasting you" She spread her legs wider giving him the opportunity to spit on her pussy, watching it run down to her entrance as he dove back in, collecting as much of her wetness as he could on his tongue, shaking his head side to side making Y/n scream out his name, tightening the hold on his hair.

Jake began rutting his hips into the bed, trying to find some relief for his aching cock. The taste of her combined with the noises she was making was almost too much for him, but he was determined to make his girl cum at least twice before he would allow himself to.

He could tell she was getting close as she began frantically grinding her hips into his face and tugging his hair harder while he devoured her. He flexed his tongue, teasing her entrance before sliding his tongue fully inside her. She arched her back repeating his name like a mantra as he continued to fuck her with his tongue, moving his hand to rub circles into her clit.

She whimpered "Fuck Jake, I'm so close" he hummed in response, speeding up his motions as she bucked her hips more frantically into his face until her orgasm finally came crashing through her. The force of the orgasm had her legs trembling as Jake continued to lap her up until she attempted to close her legs, signaling her overstimulation. He pulled away with a cheeky smile on his face, glistening with her release.

Eager to get him closer, she pulled him up crashing her lips into his, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue, "I need you, Jake. Please" He kissed her again, reassuring her "I'll take care of you, don't worry" He reached for the toy that was temporarily forgotten about at the side of the bed, "do me a favour and get this all nice and lubed up for me, okay?"

Bringing the dildo to her mouth, he tapped it on her lips twice, she opened her mouth sticking out her tongue as Jake slid it in. They maintained eye contact as he slowly worked the toy in her mouth. The action of thrusting the dildo identical to his cock into her mouth made him feel like he could cum right then and there. After another minute he pulled the toy from her mouth seeing it sufficiently lubed up.

Jake ran the toy through her folds slowly, teasing, until finally pushing into her entrance. His jaw slacked as he propped himself on his knees between her thighs, watching the toy stretching her easily. His eye flick up to find his girl with her head thrown back, one hand massaging her breast, the other gripping the bed sheet and allowing her moans to flow freely.

Using his other hand, he rubbed soft circles around her clit, her hips jerking at the added stimulation. A combination of his name and curses spill from her as she nears the edge of her second orgasm.

"Jake-fuck I'm gonna cum" she whimpers breathlessly. He speeds up his movements, adding more pressure to her sensitive clit as he plunges the toy inside her, eager to see her fall apart by his hands once again.

She cried out his name as her orgasm washed over her for the second time, Jake slowed his movements, "that's it baby" he praised as her thighs began shaking.

Carefully removing the toy, Jake looked up and smiled at his girl's fucked out state, he shot her a wink before leaning in and capturing her lips in a kiss, "now that was a great investment" she breathed out making him laugh, "Oh baby we're not done with it yet" Y/n pouted at him, "Jake, I love the toy and don't get me wrong, it'll be my best friend while you're gone. But right now I need you" Jake feigned hurt as he responded, "You didn't think I was gonna neglect my girl, did you?"

Jake took his aching cock in his hand, stroking it a few times before lining up with her soaked entrance and sinking fully inside of her in one thrust. Both of them let out a loud moan; Y/n had missed the warmth of him as he stretched and filled her, and Jake had to fight hard not to cum too quickly as he had been edging himself for the past hour.

He kept a steady pace as he grabbed the toy again and put it in her hands, "I want to see you gag on my cock while I fuck you" She felt herself clench around him at his words, "If it gets too much you can stop okay?" she nodded at him before relaxing her jaw, taking as much of the dildo down her throat as she could.

Jake felt his cock pulse at the sight, groaning a string of curses as he tightened his grip on her hip with one hand, using the other to apply pressure to her oversensitive bud. The unexpected stimulation caused her to jolt, gagging on the dildo, she pulled it out, a string of saliva falling down her chin as she took in the sight of her boyfriend over her.

The toy had been long forgotten as she pulled him by his shoulders so their faces were just inches apart, "I'm gonna cum" he grunted as felt her walls clench around him, "Fuck baby, you want me to fill you up?" she whimpered in response, "Fuck, yes Jake!" determined to make her cum before himself, his thrusts became more erratic as he got lost in the feeling of his girl wrapped around him. "Let go baby" he encouraged as she came for the third time, he buried himself deep inside of her, feeling his release fill her up.

He remained seated inside her as he caught his breath, both of them basking in the silence, completely blissed out. After a couple minutes Jake slowly pulled out, making Y/n wince at the loss. He dipped his head down between her legs as she attempts to clamp them shut, "Babe no I'm too sensitive" he looks at her with pleading eyes, "Just a taste?" she lets out a laugh but obliges, letting her legs fall open.

Jake drags his tongue through her folds, collecting their shared release. His goal wasn't to get her off again, but instead to clean up the mess he had made. He loved the taste of them together, something that was completely unique to them. He repeated the action a few more times before moving to hover over Y/n once again, "I'll never get enough of tasting you and I together" he says before crashing his lips onto hers; she moans into his mouth at the taste of their shared release.

Pulling back, he stares at her with a loving look in his eyes, Y/n becomes very aware of how fucked out she must look, "I know, I'm probably a mess right now" She shied away from his gaze, he shook his head, "Beautiful," he corrected as he peppered her face with kisses making her giggle.

Jake stood up begrudgingly to grab a towel, soaking it in warm water and making his way back to clean up whatever mess was left. Before getting back into bed, he grabbed a new pair of boxers for himself and a fresh shirt for Y/n, both cleaning up before cuddling in bed once again. Jake put his arm around her as she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rubbed circles into her back, both exhausted from the day.

"I love you so much," Jake says, pressing a kiss on the top of her head, she craned her neck to look up at him, "I love you more" he shook his head, a smile on his face as he leaned down to press a kiss on her lips.

"Jake?"

"Yeah love?"

"What made you think of getting this for me?"

Jake thought for a moment before replying, "I know it gets hard when I'm away for so long. Obviously, it won't fill all aspects of our relationship that are affected by me being away but I figured at least this way you can feel me, even when I'm across the world" he winks at her before his expression turns more solemn, "It kills me that you can't be there experiencing it with me"

Y/n took a moment to process what he had said, "It was an incredibly thoughtful gift, I didn't even know you could do that" She laughed before continuing, "It is hard when you're gone but knowing that you're living your dream makes it worth it" she smiled at him, "plus, you already know that I will be coming to any show that I can" She moved to straddle his lap, lowering her voice, "After all, I have to show you what you're missing when I'm all alone with nothing but a silicone copy of you"

Jake groans, "I don't know how I'm going to manage, just think about you using that toy, feeling me, while I'm away" She giggles at his exasperation, "Seriously! I might have a permanent boner this tour! I could give Josh a run for his money!" they both burst out laughing.

"Did you really think I would use this gift without sending a little something for you? This was a gift for the both of us" he pulled her further against him, eliminating any remaining space between them, "I love the way you think, woman" he chuckles, placing a kiss on her temple"

"Okay one more question," she tries to conceal her laugh by clearing her throat, "so...how exactly did you make this toy?" she questioned with a knowing smirk.

Jake looks away, his face twinged pink with embarrassment as he clears his throat, "I'd rather not talk about that" she laughs, "it was worth a shot"

After a few more moments basking in each other's embrace, Y/n wiggles from his grasp, scooting to the edge of the bed, Jake questions "Hey where are you running off to?" She peeled the shirt from her body once again, "taking a shower, wanna come?" she asks in a suggestive voice "Hmm, round two?" he suggests hopefully, "I love the way you think...sir" she winks before running to the bathroom.

Jake quickly follows her lead, coming up behind her and circling his arms around her waist, "Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention" She turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face, "it vibrates too" he smirks.

Y/n groans in response, "You, Jacob Thomas Kiszka, will be the death of me."

Thanks for reading <3

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al-astakbar · 10 months

Text

☆ Good and Faithful Service - Thrawn x reader ☆

> title ☆ Good and Faithful Service

> summary ☆ Grand Admiral Thrawn gets dosed with a powerful aphrodisiac and then trapped in a room with one of his junior officers. She offers to help him through it

> pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [5.1k] ☆ warnings ☆ aphrodisiacs; mildly dubious consent; masturbation; blow job; PIV sex; power dynamics & imbalance; fraternization

> posted on ao3 ☆

“Sir,” you try to be discrete about clearing your throat. “Are you sure that’s… safe?”

The Grand Admiral gives you a quelling look and you immediately step back, determinedly not looking anywhere in the direction of your hosts, the rulers of this planet who had offered Grand Admiral Thrawn the drink in the first place.

It seems to be some sort of hospitality ritual, though nothing about the Nevow people is suspicious or threatening. Indeed, everything has gone perfectly to plan so far. The negotiations have been amicably concluded, the Nevow people have reaffirmed their strong loyalty to the Empire, and committed to a 1.5 percent yield increase in yttria mining productivity over three years.

Grand Admiral Thrawn had been very pleased with that. Or, you’re pretty sure he was. After almost a year serving as his aide de camp, he is still as enigmatic and aloof as the day you first reported to his command. Most of the time, you just can’t read him, and you still don’t know if that’s really what he’s like, or his sabacc face is just that good.

It’s been frustrating, to say the least. He is a good boss, you’ve decided, and an outstanding leader. You like serving under him, had even requested the Chimaera as your first duty station after hearing about its accomplishments. You hadn’t expected your assignment as his personal aide. There were rumors aboard the ship that none of his previous aides had lasted longer than three months. Either he had dismissed them, or, if they had connections, they pulled strings to get transferred. You can understand where some of the conflict came from. He has been cold, blunt, and uncompromising. But from the moment he caught you doodling on your flimsi in a meeting, and instead of reprimanding you, he’d nearly smiled, and had given you a quiet compliment in that soft, thoughtful voice… well, perhaps your allegiance is too easy to win. But you are loyal.

You watch him and the Nevow toast, and down their drinks at the same time. Well, whatever was in it, you only have one night left on the planet. Tomorrow, the shuttle will take you back to the Chimaera and you can get a little distance from him. Not that there is much privacy on an Imperial Star Destroyer, even for a mid-grade officer. You share a stateroom with another lieutenant, but this whole trip it’s just been you and the Grand Admiral in suites and generally close quarters, and it is very hard to repress a blossoming crush when you’re at his side every minute of every day and he’s sleeping just in the next room.

He purses his lips. Whatever was in the drink, it looks bracing, and definitely not to his taste. The Nevow Second Undersecretary of Mining and Industry steps forward with an elaborately-wrapped gift.

“And now, Grand Admiral Thrawn, it is our honor to present you with this ewer, fashioned from tempered yttria and embellished with precious sun-stones. This vessel was made in the traditional style of our people, used for our custom of imbibing the galvi root in preparation for the mating ceremony.”

Your gaze flickers to the Grand Admiral for a moment. Mating ceremony? Slightly odd choice for a diplomatic exchange. If he agrees, he gives no indication. He inclines his head to each of the Nevow leaders in rank-order. “I am honored… it is truly an exquisite example of Nevow craftsmanship and artistry.” He accepts it on behalf of the Galactic Empire, holds it solemnly as they pose for holos, and then it is handed off to a porter to be conveyed to the shuttle.

That’s your cue to approach with the gift the Grand Admiral had selected for the exchange. And it was his choice-- you know for a fact that any other commander of his rank and many lower would have foisted the task on a junior officer. He had delighted in it. He had spent hours poring over dealer listings, researching the Nevow, had asked your opinion on several options, as he had started doing more and more. That had been one point of friction, early on. You deferred too much, when he was really asking for your sincere thoughts. Even if you disagreed or questioned him, he did not punish you. Another odd trait of his, and so starkly different from any other senior officers you’d met.

The Nevow act suitably impressed and appreciative of the set of greenstone swords. You notice that a couple of their party have grown sharp-eyed, watching you and your commander a little too intently. Was the gift inadequate? Or are they looking for some other reaction…

The Second Undersecretary launches into a longer explanation of the ewer, describing its purpose and the significance of the mating ceremony as a religious rite, meant to be a sacrifice of pleasure to the gods.

Grand Admiral Thrawn seems unusually restless. You’ve been around him long enough to know that he has a stillness to him, that even when the Chimaera is getting rocked by salvos of turbolasers and cannons, and enemy fighters are trying to suicide into the bridge, he will stand there, hands behind his back, a center of calm authority in the eye of the storm. Now he’s shifted on his feet not once, but twice. He pulls at the high, stiff collar of his pristine white uniform, as if it’s too tight. When the Second Undersecretary starts in on some rather lurid detail about the joining, you think you see his jaw clench. To be fair, it has you blushing too, watching him wide-eyed until he gives a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised and then you swallow thickly, cheeks flaming even hotter as you quickly look at anything else.

At last, following some final pleasantries and exclamations about how late it is, your hosts bid you goodnight. An honor guard escorts you to your quarters. You follow dutifully along behind the Grand Admiral, noting that this isn’t the right way to get to the suite they had you staying in.

“Sir?” You ask quietly, trying to mask the trepidation in your voice.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He doesn’t turn to look at you, but you can tell from his tone-- he realizes, too. Of course.

The honor guard brings you to a different set of rooms, not the ones you’d been staying in, with an explanation about the refresher flooding, and water damage. “All of your belongings have been transferred here. We do apologize.”

The guards see you into the new room, then bow and depart, shutting the door behind them.

You go immediately to inspect your things, making sure none of the locks have been tampered with. “Everything appears to be in order, sir. Nothing’s missing.”

The Grand Admiral does not answer. You turn from where you’re kneeling to find him standing there, with all his impressive height, staring down at you. There is a strange intensity in his glowing red eyes, a hunger. Many of your crewmates find his eyes unnerving-- completely red, with no pupils or iris-- it’s impossible to tell exactly where he’s looking. But right now, there’s no mistaking the weight of his regard on you.

He runs his hand through his hair. Another strange gesture. Then he turns away. You move quickly to get out the mobile workstations and datapads, get them set up. He’ll want quiet, and a chance to catch up on work before tomorrow. He thanks you, and then you settle down to your own work at the smaller desk.

This room is stuffy and too small. It seems designed to force its occupants into close quarters. Several times, you glance up to find the Grand Admiral watching you. Intent. Appraising. It’s the same look he gets when he’s studying a newly-acquired piece for his collection. Very rarely, aboard the Chimaera, you’ve caught him looking at you like that, but he’s never been so brazen about it before. You shift in your seat, feeling your cheeks redden and the first blush of arousal heat your core.

You steadfastly ignore it. Ignore the fact that your commanding officer is looking at you like he wants to take you to bed.

You take a deep breath, and try to focus. Focus on anything else besides how darkly handsome he is. Besides how the low light in the room makes his blue skin more vibrant, and how something catches in your chest at the very thought of being attracted to him. How very not-human he is, and how you want to trace your fingers along the strong cut of his jaw, just to see what kind of reaction you’d get. He’s your superior, you keep reminding yourself.

After a time, Grand Admiral Thrawn stands, and you look up to see him unbuckling his service belt, swiftly followed by unfastening his collar clasp and then the sealing strip of his tunic.

You nearly choke. “S-sir?”

His eyes snap up, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Dismissed, Lieutenant. Get some rest.”

You can’t obey his order any faster, but when you get to the door to the adjoining room, you find it’s locked. Confused, you try it again. “Sir? I’m sorry, but it seems they forgot to unlock the door to the other room.”

His eyes narrow. “Galvi root.”

You look at him, bewildered.

“Galvi root,” he repeats. “Our hosts did not forget. The windows and the door to the hall will be locked as well.”

You stride over to try them. He’s right, of course, but-- “they didn’t take our blasters.”

He lets his eyes slip shut, takes a deep breath and shakes his head slowly. “The primary rare metal export of this planet, Lieutenant,” he prompts you.

Realization and dread sink like a weight in your stomach. “Yttria.” Highly resistant to heat and temperature fluctuations. Perfect to repel blaster fire. Every fixture in the room is probably imbued with it, including the locks and door panels and windows.

“Comms?” You ask hopefully.

“Jammed.”

“... Galvi root?”

He gives another one of his piercing stares. “The ritual, Lieutenant.”

Then, it all clicks, and your voice pitches up at the sheer absurdity of the situation. “They dosed you! To get you to- to carry out some ceremony for their religion?”

“For us to carry it out.”

A shock of desire pulses through you, you can feel it in your chest, pounding in your ears. You cross your legs under the desk, pressing your thighs together, seeking friction.

“It has already…” he pauses, uncharacteristically. Almost flustered. “It has already begun to take effect.”

You can’t help it. You have to look. Beneath the shadow of his open tunic, you can just make out a bulge straining the front of his trousers. He catches you, and raises his eyebrow at you. You quickly stare at your lap, face burning, mortified to even be having this conversation with him.

“I will not-- we will wait. When we don’t return to the Chimaera tomorrow morning, searches will be launched immediately. If not before. We’re expected for morning comms check before our shuttle is scheduled to depart, and when we miss that, Commodore Faro will know something has gone wrong.”

“Sir, are you sure it’s… is it safe to ignore it?”

He fixes you with a knowing look, his voice low and soft. “No, Lieutenant. Are you offering an alternative?”

The words catch in your throat. You could rise. Go to him. Make it clear what you’re willing to do. You sit, keeping yourself very still.

Silence settles, thick and heavy and hot. You wish you could change out of your uniform, but that’s out of the question. You wouldn’t even dare undoing the sealing strip and pinning the flap open to the opposite shoulder like some officers do for a more casual, comfortable look. Never mind that it clearly violates Imperial Navy uniform policy.

The Grand Admiral appears to be meditating. Or at least trying. He is sitting perfectly straight, facing the latticework windows. His eyes are closed, his breathing deep and deliberate. But calm eludes him. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple— you’ve never seen him sweat, had wondered if his species just didn’t— his hands, which he has flat on his thighs, clench into fists.

Then one of his hands shifts, grabs and squeezes the bulge that has only grown more prominent. He stifles a pained groan.

You put aside your embarrassment. You have to say something. “Please, sir. I’ve heard of drugs like this. If you do nothing, it will maim you. The Undersecretary even said—“

“I heard him, Lieutenant.” He lets a beat pass, “You have a suggestion?”

You almost don’t. Can’t believe you’re saying this, but you do anyway, in your most professional, Graduate of Royal Imperial voice. “You should try… taking care of it, sir. With your hand, I mean. I’ll face the wall and…”

He stares at you, and for a moment you wonder if you’ve gone too far.

Before he agrees or refuses, you get up and do it, going to the farthest corner of the room, which isn’t very far.

Sound carries all too well in the oppressive, still heat of the small room. You hear, almost feel every one of his movements. He gets up, shrugs out of his tunic. Folds it with much less care than he normally does and tosses it on the desk. His rank plaque and epaulets clatter against the wood. More rumpling of fabric, and he quickly takes himself in hand. He exhales in quiet relief and then— flesh on flesh.

You shut your eyes, trying very hard not to imagine what you would see if you turned around. Your commanding officer, brow furrowed, mouth parted in pleasure as he strokes his cock. And that, too, is a singularly intriguing thought. Is he big? Small? Anywhere near human?

You shift on your feet, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. To be standing here listening to him get himself off is one thing, but if he were to see your body’s reaction to it. To him…

Soon, the rhythmic sounds get faster, louder. Harsher. His breath hitches and you can tell that he’s coming and with that realization you feel your resolve fracture against a powerful shock of need.

You listen to his breathing slow and even out, while struggling to keep yourself steady.

You don’t turn around until he tells you. He is more disheveled than ever, pacing in a corner of the small room in his black undershirt. His normally sleek blue-black hair is messy, stranded with sweat.

You track him, drinking in the sight of his tall, powerful build. Well-muscled arms, shoulders, chest, trim waist. Strong legs, which your mind unhelpfully imagines straddling. The Grand Admiral has always cut an imposing figure, but most people only credit his brilliant mind for tactics and strategy even though he is, at his core, a warrior first above all else.

He catches you staring, again, but makes no comment on your open admiration of him. To your surprise, he gives it right back, fixing you with an intent, lustful stare that makes you squirm. He wouldn’t, you tell yourself. He won’t take you to bed. But he’s thinking about it. He’s the first to break the spell, turning away as another spasm of pain wracks his body.

He sits again, resting his elbows on his knees, his shoulders hunched, head bowed. He stays like this, you aren’t sure how long. Whatever jamming they’ve got around the room has also affected your chrono. Long enough that you get worried, and he’s rocking slightly, breathing labored.

“Sir?” He doesn’t answer. Concerned, you finally get up and approach him. He’s still breathing, at least. “Sir?” When again he doesn’t respond, you reach out and very lightly touch his arm.

He open-flexes his hand, then clenches it into a fist. “Don’t.”

You yank your hand away. “Sorry… Did it help?”

He shakes his head slowly. “No. I--” his fingers grasp at his thigh, pulling at the now-rumpled wool “-- I think it made it worse.”

You digest this for a moment, and then, “can I help?”

Everything seems to stop, to go still and silent. You feel your heart beating in your ears, you’re staring at a spot on the wall across the room but your eyes won’t focus. You’d really gone too far.

When Grand Admiral Thrawn speaks, his smooth, modulated voice has an edge of amusement to it. “You’re proposing fraternization with your commanding officer, Lieutenant.”

“It’s a practical solution to the problem, sir.”

He draws himself up, holding himself with all of his usual commanding bearing, and the effect is not lost on you. “Tell me precisely what you are offering, Lieutenant. Be explicit.”

You swallow thickly, trying to regain some of your composure. “I-- I’ll…” You look at him helplessly, but get no reprieve. What have you gotten yourself into? “I’ll suck your cock, sir. And if that still doesn’t help with the effects of the drug, you can… you can fuck me.”

He leans back, and you can see the huge bulge in his trousers on full display, his erection straining the fabric. He taps the arm of the chair, a gesture you recognize as him thinking. You’re prepared for rejection, certainly. For the promise of a court martial when you get back to the Chimaera. For how little you, and everyone else really knows about Thrawn, you realize that propositioning him, even with the best intentions, was an extremely foolish idea. You’ve seen him shoot an officer before. Right on the bridge. The question is, have you made an error, or a mistake?

“Very well.” He sits back more, widens his legs.

You gape at him, blinking, before what he said sinks in. Oh. You respond as if it’s any other order he’s given you, anything else he’s entitled to compel you to do as your superior.

You move quickly, with purpose, get in front of him and drop to your knees. “You have permission to remove your tunic, Lieutenant,” he says rather dryly. You do, quickly, grateful to be rid of the itchy, high collar. Then, you look up once more, reaching for his fly with shaking hands; he nods, his red eyes gleaming as you pop open the buttons and pull the fabric aside. He hisses in sharply as the material drags over his erection.

You pull the material down more, and finally, his cock springs free. You can’t help your quiet gasp and the unprofessional holy shit, sir that escapes you. It’s gloriously long and thick and purple and, when you reach for it, you can’t quite get your fingers all the way around. He shifts again, getting his pants down more to expose his balls, large and heavy. Impulsively, you dip your head to lick them-- he tenses-- you suck on one and his hips jerk up.

The reaction sends another thrill of arousal through you. You switch, laving the hot skin, taking in his taste and scent. Part of it is familiar. The same wool and starch that’s standard throughout the Imperial Navy. The part that is all him is intoxicating, something crisp and wintry and wholly alien.

Though he’s trembling, his control over his own body tenuous, he does not hurry you.

He’s gripping the arms of the chair hard, and when you lick the underside of his erection, he exhales a shuddering breath. You do it again, dragging your tongue up that one prominent vein, tasting his pulse, and you wonder how you’ll fit him all in your mouth. How it’ll feel when-- if-- he fucks you.

You press your thighs together. Take him in your mouth, let him push past your lips and feel the huge, thick weight of his cock on your tongue. You grip him at the base, pumping your hand. Start to bob your head slowly and the Grand Admiral gives a strangled moan.

Your eyes flick up. You’d been steadily not looking, some ridiculous thought about giving him that little bit of privacy, even as you suck him. His gaze is there to meet yours, hooded and glowing and imperious. You hold it, keep moving with the head of his cock sliding over your tongue, feeling utterly filthy. Devoted. Loyal.

You force yourself to take more of his length, deeper, until your mouth is stretched uncomfortably full, until the plush head nudges the back of your throat. You brace your hand on his thigh, which is tense, the hard muscle flexing under your touch. For a moment you worry it’s too forward, too intimate, but he bucks up and groans your name. Not your surname. Not Lieutenant. Your given name.

You choke, spluttering as he starts to thrust up into your mouth. He says it again, so close to breaking, his usual effortless control over himself and everything around him threatening to crumble. Eyes wide and watering, you look up at him, greedily drinking in his expression as he surges up, fucking your warm, willing mouth, allowing you to serve him in this way.

He loses some internal battle with himself, relents, his hand going to the back of your head, tangling in your hair so he can make full use of you, his balls pressing against your chin. His neck is corded, his chest rising and falling with rapid, jagged breaths. You breathe through your nose, jaw aching, face shiny and slick with drool. Refuse to look away, refuse to close your eyes to him. He seems entranced with the sight of you between his legs, lips stretched wide around his shaft, swallowing his cock.

It doesn’t take him long to come, and he gives you little warning. Only a strained groan and a terse “swallow as much as you can, Lieutenant” and then his movements jerk and stall and he’s coming down your throat. His smell and taste overwhelm your senses, familiarly salty but with something else cool and crisp, and you remember, again, you don’t even know what species he is. You obediently do as he says before you can’t swallow anymore; he overfills your mouth, spurting more and more cum, so much you sputter and choke and pull back, a string of the viscous spend stretching from your lips to his cock. You’ve made a mess, or rather, he has, but you will be the one to clean it up.

Dazed, you lean in, licking his still-hard shaft as he continues to twitch and pulse. You’d swallowed as much as you could, but it had leaked out, dripping down your chin, and on him, already drying sticky and clear on his pants. Some on his polished black jackboots, even.

“Sorry, sir,” you murmur, sitting back on your heels.

Thrawn-- Admiral Thrawn, you remind yourself-- offers no praise or reassurance.

His eyes seem to glow brighter, unnervingly fixed on you, on the debauched mess he’s made of you. Your hair, your cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, his cum all over your mouth and chin. He reaches for your face, swipes some off your chin and offers his thumb to your lips. You suck without thinking and, to your ultimate humiliation, let out a desperate, muffled whimper.

When he withdraws you take a deep, shaky breath, eyes bleary, core throbbing with unmet need. He seems to have recovered his self-control, at least for now, though his cock is still achingly hard. He stands, grabbing it, as if it’s too painful not to touch.

“Did it… help? … sir?” You amend quickly, almost forgetting the honorific.

His jaw works, and he pumps his erection slowly, right there in front of you. You watch his hand, entranced as he slick-slides up and down his shaft. “Undress.”

You nod, unable to reply as proper military bearing dictates. Your hands shake, fumbling with your pants. He does it for you. Sits you on the bed and pulls your boots off one by one. Then undoes your trousers, pulls them off with your standard-issue skivvies. All efficiency, no lingering touches. He pushes your undershirt up over your breasts.

Conflict screams in your mind. That this is wrong, against regulations, that it’s the Grand Admiral and you won’t be able to look at him after this but… Your duty is to him. Your duty is to serve.

You are bare before him. He doesn’t bother shucking his own boots and trousers, but simply crawls over you, and kisses you deeply. You whimper in surprise, and allow his tongue to sweep into your mouth, for him to lay this claim on you as well.

You spread your legs wider for his rutting hips, driven by your need, a drunken, weightless feeling. Your empty cunt clenches in anticipation, he finds the angle where his erection slides over your clit, swallows down your moans and keeps doing it.

The head of his cock catches your hole-- he slips, you’re tight and so so wet. He breaks the kiss with a growl. Tries again, deliberate and slow, positioning himself and pushing in mercilessly.

It’s too much, his girth splitting you as he works to open you around his thick shaft. You pant, whining with the effort. “Thrawn--”

Too familiar by far, but he huffs gently, almost a smile. He rolls his hips, licks his thumb and presses it to your clit. You gasp, looking down to watch where your bodies are connected. You are close already, each new flush of pleasure opening you more to him, letting you take him deeper, harder, faster.

He pins you down with his well-muscled weight, makes you take all of his massive cock, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. The tight little circles on your clit drive your need higher, tighter, sharpening to a singular point and then you’re coming with a quiet, desperate little sound, waves of pleasure radiating from your core as you clench and flutter around him. Thrawn follows a second later, hitching your legs up, pressing your knees to your shoulders. He buries himself deep in your pussy, grinding relentlessly as he pumps his cum into you. Fills you up, more than you can take, just as he had your mouth. This, too, you can feel leaking out, sticky on your thighs.

He sighs and pulls out. Sated for now, barely. You lie there, breathless, turning your head to follow him as he goes to get a cup of water. He brings one to you before drinking himself. A small gesture. Senior officers always eat last after crew and junior officers.

He lets you rest for a time before taking you again, and after another respite, a third time, chasing his release over and over. By the fourth, you are too fucked out and exhausted to hold yourself up. He arranges you as he pleases, face down and prone on the bed. You cant your hips up for him and he climbs over you, sinking into you easily with an obscene, wet sound. He kicks your legs wider, lets his thrusts take him deeper until he’s driving into you with long, full strokes and all you can do is submit.

You wonder how long it has been for him. How long since he’s had a partner, or permitted himself this kind of indulgence. You can sense him giving in to some darker, wilder part of his nature. The instinct to possess, and mark, and dominate. You’ve seen hints of it before, very briefly. His sometimes brutal pragmatism. His cold calculus that would always find the most advantageous solution, even at the cost of lives. If he wanted to, he could just collect art. Instead he chose rank. He chose power.

Any shred of his self control is long gone. His movements are rough, he’s given over to a feverish lust. He pounds into you as if your body belongs to him, as if you’re nothing but a hole, something warm and wet for him to fuck. Still, the pleasure rises in you again, all of it has made you unbearably sensitive.

You moan into the sheets, helpless and wanton, giving yourself over to him and letting him use your body. He holds you down when you cry out, stretching you to your limit. You don’t struggle. Just take his cock as he reams you, as another climax starts to overtake you, harsh and hot and raw. Thrawn growls when he feels you. Accepts your good and faithful service and pushes into you deep deep deep and stills there so you feel his hot spurts of cum fill you up and overflow.

He pulls out with a slick sound. Empty again, you twitch and spasm, pushing some of his cum out, making it drip down your used, swollen cunt. You can feel his gaze lingering there. He likes what he’s done, likes the sight of it. For a moment, you imagine yourself not as his aide, not as a junior officer under his command but as a piece on display in his collection. Something prized and fascinating. Another time he might lay you out and touch you for hours, curious as to how long he could stimulate and tease you before you break.

Eventually, you drift quietly to sleep, and awaken under the covers. The light in the room has changed. Morning. The Grand Admiral is fully dressed, seated in an armchair with a steaming cup of caf and his datapad.

“We are free to go,” he says without looking up from his reading. You hear the unspoken command and get up immediately and get dressed, gathering your tunic and trousers and boots from where they’re scattered around the room. Again, he does not bother to look up.

Once on the shuttle, you aren’t sure how to act normal. He speaks to you as he always has, with quiet, direct instructions. You do your best but all you can think of is him telling you to swallow as much as you can. You look down at your uniform and find a dried blot of his cum on your pants. Shit. You try to scratch it off.

“Lieutenant.” The Grand Admiral’s voice cuts into your thoughts rather sharply.

“Yes, sir.” You sit up, properly chastised. It’s not like you to be inattentive, and he gives you a stern look before continuing.

“The galvi root. It has great potential as a bioweapon, of sorts, but will need further study. I obtained a sample before we left.”

You nod, dutifully noting all of this down.

“I’ll need you to test it, Lieutenant.”

“But I… it… alone?” Is all you can manage.

“No. Set aside twelve hours or so in my schedule.” His voice goes cool and soft. Full of promise. “Not to worry, Lieutenant. I will be there to see you through it.”

☆ link to part 2

#Thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x you #thrawn x reader #thrawn fic #thrawntent #thrawn x y/n #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn fanfic #thrawn fanfiction #star wars

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lillianofliterature · 2 years

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Hi Lillian! If your preferences are still open, could I please request a preference for what the LOTR Fellowship think of a modern woman appearing in Middle Earth and developing feelings for her? Thank you!

LOTR PREFERENCES || 3/?

a/n: hi, love! thank you for your request! I’m delighted to do it! 💚 Sorry it took so long to get back to you, I’ve been working on this on and off since it was sent in to be sure I wrote a good amount for every character (although my favoritism is palpable, oops). I would get through 1-2 characters and then my brain would shut off for a while. Very convenient of it. ¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

if gifs are not sourced, they were found ages ago on Google and have sat dormant in my gallery since. if they’re yours, lmk and I will credit or remove them!

some of my preferences are written like imagines, some are written like headcanons. this particular request fits the headcanon format best!

each character varies in length (I mean, some of them have A LOT and I hope you don’t mind, I just like to include everything I think of for headcanons!) and some ideas or descriptors may have been repeated a few times due to there being so many of them! On this particular request, it was so hard to make everyone’s unique because they’re all so kind and good? I feel like everyone would just dote on you and take care of you in their own way? I hope they’re unique enough!

I do my best to keep them gender-neutral for everyone! <3

warnings: repetitive ideas I’M SORRY I TRIED I PROMISE, some injuries and light gore mentioned, mental health issues implied (depression, anxiety, etc.)

(preferences below the cut-off)

| how they would react to developing feelings for someone from the modern world

aragorn | word count: 1.3k+

Aragorn was no stranger to forces of magic and otherworldly power he didn't quite understand, as he was exposed to such truths all of his life, so he wasn't as untrusting or suspicious of you as some of the other folks of Middle-Earth might be to someone claiming to be from another realm of a far advanced make and age.

He wouldn't develop feelings for you right away, he's the slow and steady sort who must get to know and become familiar with someone before even entertaining fonder, sweeter thoughts, much less full-fledged feelings. But you did have that mysterious air about you, being a stranger to his world, the era and its customs, and he always wished to understand you from the moment Elrond had introduced you to each other. You were intriguing, to say the least.

To be fair, you were slow in trusting people completely, just as he was, so your path in developing feelings for each other was equally stubborn and forgiving. He believed your story, of course, about how you'd come from another land that was quite different from his own, about the strange humming you'd heard one night and the stinging you felt in your toes and fingertips, about how you'd ended up in a forest somehow and had followed the Ford of Bruinen into Rivendell.

He was the first person to truly believe you and not just try to assuage your questions and anxieties passively. He made a point to validate that you weren't crazy or dreaming it up; he did everything he could to help you feel grounded and understood. Aragorn was humble enough to admit he didn't understand everything—and that he especially didn't have to understand something in order for it to be true.

At Elrond's request (and largely due to his own curiosity), he'd agreed to help you learn about this strange new world and its history and customs. Why he'd been tasked above any other elf of intelligence in Rivendell to be your guide and tutor, he hadn't the faintest idea, except for the fact that perhaps since he traveled more than those who dwelled comfortably in the elven lord's domain, his experiences might be of more value than knowledge gleaned solely from literature and speeches.

He was quizzical about the strange things you would do, the habits you admitted were hard to break. Such as how you would rub your knuckles against the wall by every door frame when you entered a dark room, presumably looking for "light switches''—and the way you searched for "buttons and knobs" when you entered a kitchen and asked if there was such a thing resembling a "refrigerator" or an "icebox" in this world. Whatever phantom switches and objects you were after, he found it amusing to see you chastise yourself for looking for things that weren't there in Middle-Earth. (But he also realized it must be difficult to enter a realm where nothing is the same and everything is new to you, even down to the most basic aspects of daily living.)

There was also the way you were afraid to drink from rivers and skeptical of sleeping on the ground and accepting food from people you hardly knew and constantly asking what it was you were eating or if it was cooked all the way through. He knew there was some wisdom to caution, but your caution seemed extreme, which made him wonder what sort of world you hailed from that food and drink could not be trusted and one would not be accustomed to natural resources and living off the earth.

He never once made you feel silly or cowardly, though, for whatever you discovered or worried about that made you feel squeamish. He merely taught you his own ways with generous patience; he taught you to hunt and forage, how to protect yourself from insects and parasites with herbs and salves, to trim your hair with shears, and use a specific type of tree branch to clean your teeth (you couldn't just pick up any stick on the forest floor, you know), and how eucalyptus was especially soothing for the scalp when washing your hair (so long as the water wasn't too cold when you rinsed, which you learned the hard way after bathing in the river after he concocted something resembling shampoo for you).

He'd been the one to hold you that night on your travels across lands (an idea Elrond had had to get you used to the world you'd been brought into, teaching you with firsthand exposure or something of the sort) that you'd finally broken down into tears after weeks of trying to make sense of your predicament. He'd sang to you in his elvish tongue until you'd fallen asleep in his arms under the warmth of his furs and winter coat. You missed your family, your friends, and some of the beauties and conveniences of your own land. People and things he couldn't replace. He did his best to calm your aching spirit. He knew what it was to miss people, to ache for them, to reach out and not find them reaching back, to not feel your mother's warmth any longer–no matter how much you longed for it.

It was that kind of sweetness, how in touch he was with his emotions and how readily he extended his compassion, that made you realize how special of a man he was.

And after months of helping you along in Middle-Earth and watching you blossom and grow with the changing seasons, essentially becoming part of his world, Aragorn began to feel deeply towards you. Not just his protective instinct that he'd developed for you since he'd been your confidante and ally since your arrival (he once compared you to a fawn just learning to walk in the afterbirth or a little bunny hidden away in a burrow that he had been tasked with - and obliged - to help grow and adapt) (all until you asked him to stop comparing you to wild animals), but also these funny little bouts of fluttering in his stomach and an innate need to be near you. The reprieve your mere presence gave him. The pure happiness your eagerness to learn and understand him and his world offered him.

It would be difficult for him to act on those feelings at first because the last thing he would want to do is add more pressure or discomfort to your already convoluted burdens. But when he did, after weeks of pining for you and feeling himself smile (momentarily free of any heavy thoughts or worries of his own that often tugged that smile flat) after your many failed attempts to mimic or poke fun at him for his quiet, mysterious "Strider" persona.

Luckily, Aragorn was not alone in his feelings, and his only regret was not telling you sooner.

Neither of you knew if your returning home was a possibility or not, nor especially how such a thing could even be done, but he hoped that the day would never come when you would disappear from his life. It wasn't that he wished you never to return home to your loved ones and your comforts, but that he needed closure of his own. He needed warning in order to prepare himself to lose you if he was fated to–not that any amount of preparation can teach someone how to nobly lose their soulmate. Or perhaps he needed at least enough preparation to follow you into that world if he was ever given the chance.

And if you were to stay in Middle-Earth until the end of your days, he vowed to help you in whatever endeavors you faced, as long as he could be by your side for every one of them. He would gladly go on teaching, guiding, and needing you.

boromir | word count: 1.8k+

Boromir was definitely skeptical of you, not only because of your sudden appearance in his father's city, but also because of your explanations to their inquiries of who you were, where you were from, and how you had come to enter the steward's palace without having alerted any guards or centremen were never quite believable. It seemed as though your answers just brought on more questions, which only made his father's temperament even more fragile than normal.

For his father's sake, Boromir would take over the situation, reprieving him of any responsibility of having to deal with the "nuisance of a wench" that Denethor, Steward of Gondor, had so politely referred to you when you didn't admit to his accusations of your being a spy from Edoras or some sort of conspiring assassin having come to usurp his throne (because you weren't one and in light of your very sudden and confusing teleportation into an entirely different realm, couldn't care less about some rickety old man on some throne you didn't even know about, much less want)

(which you told Boromir to his face once he'd come to visit you in your holding cell to interrogate you further).

Your relationship was a rocky start, to say the least. There wasn't torture involved or anything, you were kept fed and hydrated from within your cell, and the cell itself was much more quaint living space than the stuff of dungeons. The door even had a lock on the inside to ensure your privacy as an individual, although there were guards placed outside the door and the windows were too narrow and too high to even see out of, much less clamber out of to escape further out into a world you didn't understand. In all actuality, as the hours wore on and no one came to remove your fingernails or dunk you in a barrel of icy water until you spoke, you began to realize that the steward's son–Boromir, you think it was–had most likely placed you in the guest or servant's quarters. There was no way that this room, furnished with a single bed, a vanity, a well-stocked bookshelf, a wardrobe, and even a small washroom was in any way dungeon quality. Where was the hay all over the floor? The rusty cell bars? Mice scurrying over your feet? Mushrooms and mold growing in damp corners?

So, had he lied to his father? Gone against his orders to let you rot in a cell for your lying impotence and instead given you room and board?

As the next day dawned and Borormir came to speak with you privately, he was an entirely different person than what you'd expected from your brief encounter in the throne room. Out from his father's scrutinous and demanding gaze, Borormir was much more agreeable and even somewhat patient. He wasn't quick to condemn you as a liar or some manipulative traitor, although he obviously still did suspect it. He was commanding, but he wasn't dominating.

In short, romance wasn't even on the map for either of you due to the circumstances of your meeting. No one falls in love with the man interrogating them for days on end about losing everything they ever had in an instant, about walking into an old alleyway back home to escape the rain, only to find yourself walking into the halls of some grouchy old steward who accuses you of treason and attempted murder. And no one falls in love with the person skulking through their father's halls unannounced and dishing out insults to that said father and kingdom at first glance, wounding their pride and dignity in one fell swoop.

In fact, he'd even chastised you for speaking ill of his father.

"You mean the man who just called me a nuisance? And a wench?"

Your pension for being very...communicative despite speaking to the son of the steward shocked him to say the least. Boromir wasn't used to being spoken to with such reignless freedom—especially not from strangers under lock and key.

He apologized for Denethor's crass and demeaning insults. You wouldn't have accepted his apology if it hadn't been for the forlorn sincerity in the man's eyes when he explained that his father was a changed man–and not for the better. Regardless, he asked that you respect the steward and his position of power, but even more so, respect that he is his father and he couldn't tolerate ill words being spoken about him.

You agreed to speak no such insults in his presence out of respect for Boromir in return for the patience and hospitality he'd shown you, but you made no vow to be tolerable of Denethor himself. He found that agreeable.

As the questions wore on and your answers remained much the same, Boromir realized that this story you kept explaining, about the alleyway and the rain, the smell of the bakery across the street, the soggy socks in your shoes, it was obviously what you believed–even if he wasn't sure if he could believe it yet. It was hard for Boromir to believe without seeing for himself. It's ye old "I believe that you believe it happened," two hairs shy of calling you crazy sort of response.

That is, until his brother gets word of the new visitor a few days after your arrival. Faramir was his name. He remembered how strange that passageway deep in the stone walls of the palace near the eastern wing had always made him feel when he passed through it. And when he heard of your predicament, he actually seemed rather aware of some sort of power or legend that once spoke of beings traveling between realms in some rare instances. Apparently, Boromir was much more trusting of his little brother. He took Faramir at his word, especially once shown several tomes and scrolls from across the ages of rare but unexplainable instances such as yours.

With Faramir's help (whom you found much more agreeable than his suspicious and impossible older brother), Boromir actually believed in what had happened to you. Not just that you thought it was true, but that such strange things do happen, things even the bravest warriors from great kingdoms cannot explain away.

When it was revealed that it did make factual sense, given your odd apparel that day you'd arrived and the baggy "sweatshirt" you'd refused to let them confiscate, the difference in your accent and dialect, the contrast to your world and Middle-Earth, how very little you understood about his kingdom and the way of basic living, you were then given a proper room in the guest housing just outside the palace courts, a few blocks from the courtyard and stories above the inner city.

You were viewed as an intellectual advantage (or at least that was how he explained it to his father in order for it to make sense to the paranoid steward to keep you nearby), given access to the libraries and studies under Boromir's supervision, and were assigned servants to help you learn to bathe without running water, how to brush your teeth without paste and a brush, how to lather your hair with only water and sweet-smelling oils and rinse within a basin, and a myriad of other daily changes you needed to adapt to. When you refused assistance beyond being taught how to live and function in his world, Boromir found it almost insulting–but it made him curious.

He'd never gone a day without servants, almost like shadows ushering about him, unseen and avoided beyond what they were needed for. He appreciated his people and had great pride for them, but your point of view (from someone of the working class) helped humble the entitled nobility woven into his countenance.

As time passed, Boromir found that it was he who took you for walks throughout the palace courtyard rather than silent guards or obedient servants under order; it was he who excitedly showed you his prized steeds and explained each of their individual personalities, who insisted that you venture into every reach of Gondor until you are as familiar with its villages and rivers as you are with the backs of your hands.

It was his idea, then, to show you parts of Gondor you'd never seen. Forests, plains, meadows, farms, and mountain passes, even the distant horizon of a vast beach shore toward the south. All of it grand, all of it foreign, all of it breathtaking. It was there, on horseback and walking through his father's kingdom, that you really saw who Boromir was. Free of armor and duties, he was just a man desperately in love with his country and his people.

He was flawed, yes. Greatly so. But then again, everyone bears flaws as much as any other person. Some are just skilled at hiding them from the world. Others use them to their advantage. But Boromir–Boromir just seemed like a boy some days when he was beyond the walls of Minas Tirith. The tours he gave you of his beloved land, free of expectation and any sense of obligation, were what allowed you to see everything differently, everything way back to the beginning, to months ago when you'd stumbled through those passageways between royal chambers.

And evidently, Boromir had started to realize much the same for himself. He wasn't one to take ladies for strolls about courtyards and offer them wildflowers that he nearly trampled under his boot; it wasn't like him to look forward to the days when he could spend his time riding into the villages and forests with company rather than being alone; it wasn't like Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the stewardship of Gondor, to find himself lost in laughter as he tried to teach you how to start a fire without a "lighter" contraption that you were used to and watching you fail miserably into the evening hours and cursing under your breath with risqué words he'd never heard. It wasn't like him to feel such relief, to feel so light and free of his father's burdens.

But love comes when you aren't looking for it, and it often brings people together who would never have noticed one another in any other circumstance.

So maybe that's why you were brought to Middle-Earth, to Gondor, to the halls of his very home, out of all the places and realms you might've ended up in. Whatever might've happened, it must have been fate, or some destiny tied to love. For Boromir, the greatest warrior of his father's vast army, to find himself believing in miracles and accepting the truth of the unknown and uncertain–it could be little else but love. For the first time in his life, not knowing was enough, as long as it meant having you.

faramir | word count: 1k+

Your meeting would definitely be in a forest somewhere, perhaps in Gondor or somewhere you can't even pronounce when he tells you. He's with his rangers, scouting and securing the borders of his country–but truly, his purpose for being all the way out there was to be far away from his father to drown out his disdain and favoritism.

The way you would meet would provide him with comical relief somehow, I just think that's something that would give your relationship such a different beginning than all the other people in his life. Not bound by blood or duty, just victims of circumstance, although he wouldn't want to say he was any sort of victim in having the privilege of meeting you.

He would be knelt by the river, scooping crisp water with his hands and sipping it as his men are some ways down the bank, offering him a moment of silence and reprieve from his own duties. His men, the rangers he lead as their captain, were more than just his "Inferiors" (as his father put it), they were his friends and most trusted advisors. They weren't sworn to serve Faramir, son of Denethor, younger brother to the great warrior Boromir, only because duty and station required it of them. They were both fond and loyal to him, to his humility and wisdom, to his feeling nature. His strength was different but no less honorable. So when their captain wandered off alone, they knew him well enough to give him space.

Although, that's not exactly what he would get.

One moment, you were on the hiking trail you'd taken near your local park for the scenic terrain and perfect reading spots when suddenly the trail had twisted in a way it hadn't before until it had completely disappeared from beneath you in the rapidly appearing overgrowth. Now in a forest you didn't recognize, with panic and anxiety pulsing through your body, running back the way you'd come from in desperate search of the trail you'd been vigilant not to wander from.

That's when Faramir hears the rustling in the forest behind him, he stands as he shakes the water from his hands and poises his bow, knowing his men would never rush him unexpectedly while in the wild (and they weren't even in that direction as far as he knew from where he left them). Before the poor man can react, your bodies collide as you appear out of the thicket and slam into him. I mean, you absolutely take this man out.

You'd both crash in a heap by the river, sliding down the bank and into the shallow edges of the freezing water. Your comfy tennis shoes? Sopping wet. His cloak? Might as well hang it on the laundry line next to the linens.

You'd scramble to your feet, still rushing from adrenaline, while he'd take his time getting up as he rubbed the sore spots you'd brandished him with. With one look in your direction, he'd do a once over and a double-take, completely befuddled by your apparel and whatever reflective material your tight leggings were made of. Not to mention the strange device in your hand with a long cord dangling from its end and the sack of books that had tumbled into the damp dirt at the river's edge.

Once he regained his footing with an adjustment of his jaw and posture, he'd be bombarded with your frantic questions of where you were, where the trailhead was, if his "phone" device had any cell power (whatever that meant, he hadn't a clue) or if he was a "LARPer" based on his apparel (which, mind you, he had several questions about your very strange clothing of choice as well). Simply put, you were quite confused by one another.

Much akin to how he would be of aid in Boromir's version, Faramir would be adamant in his studies and knowledge of many mysteries and forces in his world, from long ages past. He was quite the scholar, given his neglected childhood. He would at first be skeptical of your explanation, but it wouldn't take him as long as his brother to believe you. Faramir could sense things about people, he had that sort of discernment that helped him know whether people were honest or insincere. And you were honest.

He would be very empathetic to your situation. He would offer himself as a guide and a protector, teaching you gradually how to arm yourself in the wild during the long trek back to his home of Minas Tirith. Once there, you would be kept out of his father's reach and safely somewhere you could be comfortable and adjust to the changes of his world.

Apart from being a very mature aide to you in your time of crisis, Faramir would be as excited as a kid in a sweet shop. Your presence in Middle-Earth, the circumstances which brought you to him, were absolutely incredible. It was as if his whole life sort of made sense—all the hours spent with his head in the clouds and books upon books flitting through his hands as a young boy and into adulthood, it had all prepared him for you. This fantastical miracle that came hurling at him by some stream in the eastern forests and defied any and every law of science and physics he'd ever been tutored about.

Over time, once his feelings matured into something more than honorable duty (and giddy curiosity), he'd be absolutely devoted to you. He would spend his life trying to find the answers you needed, even if it meant finding a way for you to get home, despite how much he wanted you to remain in his life. He would cross seas and brave mountains to seek out others who knew of anything like your situation, he would risk himself to keep you safe.

Faramir would do absolutely anything for you, at all times, with the utmost sincerity and adoration from the deepest parts of himself. He would vow himself to you and leave you no room for doubt or insecurity.

eomer | word count: 800+

Eomer, Lord of the Mark and future King of Rohan, would definitely place duty above curiosity and emotion when first meeting a stranger claiming to hail from another much different world completely unrelated to Middle-Earth in its entirety. Albeit a respectful and honorable man, he would have his suspicions about whether or not your predicament was at all possible. And if possible—that was a big if—he would doubt your sincerity (if it had really happened or not). He's the type to need proof and evidence so he can work out how to respond and execute a plan of action. He wasn't one to meddle with ancient powers and mysterious magic—he was a man of law and combat.

What you don't know for the first few weeks, though, is that there's a reason behind his doubt and scrutiny of you, his blatant distrust and sheer callousness. He'd seen what the dark powers of wizards and warlords had done to his uncle Theoden. He'd witnessed firsthand how it had torn his family apart, stricken with grief and remorse. His sister had been plagued and stalked by one such man who was an ally to such dark arts. Magic and powerful entities had never brought Eomer or his people anything good.

Eventually, when you learn about all of this, you're more compassionate to his point of view and not so frustrated with him for being so darn suspicious all of the time.

However, despite his reservations about your situation, that would not affect his efforts in helping you (after you've been ruled out as a threat). You would never be treated like a prisoner or an enemy, nor as any sort of asset or property. You were simply a traveler, a person in need, and eventually a friend to Rohan and the people that dwelled within Edoras.

Something you noticed early on was his absolute devotion to his family. Not just his lineage or his people, not solely to the crown that still sat upon his uncle's head. His sister was his closest friend (and she soon became yours as well) and there was a bond between them you had never born witness to in your disconnected world. The loyalty and affection he showed freely were quickly one of the traits of his character that attracted you to him, as well as his consistent sincerity—there was never a word uttered from his lips that he did not mean or a promise that he failed to keep. He spoke with bluntness plainly, you never had to solve any riddles or secrets. There were never any tiresome games. He just was. The "once loyal, always loyal" sort of person.

And as someone used to a world full of people more concerned with themselves rather than those they claim to love, it's refreshing.

Because of Eomer's need for proof and evidence to be able to believe and understand things that were presented to him, your relationship was also rocky at the start. Yes, you knew he was trustworthy and you felt safe under his care as his sister showed you the ways of their people and clothed you in their garments. You knew no harm would ever come to you as long as Eomer kept watch over your wellbeing. But there was the disconnect between you where emotions and souls come into play–a need for him to have faith in your story, a need to be trusted above reason and common sense.

That would be the great battle throughout your developing feelings for each other; to understand and accept each other and your very different origins. It would be that discourse and the eventual change of heart that would convince Eomer he was in love with the one person who had appeared wandering aimlessly across the Riddermark. And when he was able to accept the heavy truth that you spoke—that not only were the myriad of powers and mystics of his world very real and prevalent, but there was another realm far beyond his own—it would not only prepare him for the throne he would one day succeed, but open his heart to the reality of love itself. That there is more beyond honor and duty, beyond loyalty; there is love, devotion of the heart, and the binding of one soul to another.

Truly, your crossing into Middle-Earth was more than mere chance. It was the dealings of fate, the weaving of a tapestry that spans beyond lands and stars, that brings union and contentedness to those it touches.

To Eomer, you would become more than a dangerous risk or a misunderstanding or a wearied traveler between lands. You would be his life source in a more intimate way than even what he had always known with his family–the love of one's life is one incomparable to all else. His fierce loyalty that you'd observed since your first meeting had become an unsplintering shield. You were now bonded by that same sort of unwavering devotion.

eowyn | word count: 800+

Eowyn, Lady of the Mark, would react much like her brother at first. Suspicious and protective of her people, she would do all she could to ensure that those around you were taking all precautions necessary when you are first brought before the throne. She wouldn't take as long to come around to you as Eomer would, however. She was more prone to trust people and offer them a chance to prove themselves.

You see, Eowyn has a sense about people. She could always read them like an open book, whether they meant to be read or not. And you? Well, she had a feeling you were a good book. Shrouded in mystery and understandably met with fear at first by most of her kin, Eowyn would be the first person of her people to reach out to you as an individual after the initial shock of your sudden arrival and concerning origins.

She'd be the one to bring your meals and stuff extra pastries under the napkin for you (she'd conceited her brother and his men to allow you a room with humble furnishings rather than a cell until they were sure you would not pose a threat) and offer up small talk as best she could. Eventually, though, that small talk turned into stories and memories shared between two fast-growing friends. You told her all about your world, about your home, about the technology and amenities you missed, about the pretty lights of the city at night and the twinkling strings of lights decorating your bedroom walls.

"They're like little bursts of fire within tiny shards of glass, led along a wired string of sorts", you'd tried to explain. You loved the way she listened to your every word, her smiles growing bigger and her eyes reflecting the warmth of the hearth.

You told her about your family and friends and some of your most memorable moments with them. Several of which derived a very contagious laugh from the fair Lady of the Mark. "Tell me more about your homeland!" She would exclaim, offering an encouraging nudge to your knee.

She would spend hours helping you adjust in whatever way you needed. Didn't know how to brush your teeth the medieval way? No problem; Eowyn walked you through the steps. Kept burning your fingertips while trying to light the lanterns and oil-glazed candles? She'd show you how she got around that herself as a child. Wonder what it would be like to fight like the soldiers training in the yard? Eowyn would teach you better than any man could.

You'd always wondered what it was like to experience that best friends to lovers sort of romance—and that's exactly what you found in Eowyn. Although her protective loyalty had set a boundary between you for the first week or so of your unexpected arrival, that loyalty was soon extended to you. She'd be the first person you would really trust, the one you would call for when your dreams turned sour or your loneliness weighed too heavily in the night. She'd be the one who would lead you around Edoras, showing you the beauty of her home and people. She would teach you to bond with your own horse and train you well to become a proficient rider yourself.

The horses (and Eowyn, of course) were really what made you hesitant to ever leave this realm called Middle-Earth if you could. Rohan, their whole culture, was surrounded by the rich history and generous communion with horses. Everything here was tied to legend or powers beyond humanity's limited understanding—but everything was beautiful and enchanting. Their ancestors resided in great halls of kings in the stars. Everything about these people was so rooted in family and kinship. You'd never known anything like it back home.

People in Edoras were kind to each other, save the occasional drunkard. And Eowyn—Eowyn was the brightest star among them all. Compassionate, loyal, and brave. Those were the words you thought of when she came to mind (which was more often than not).

It wouldn't be long after becoming best friends, perhaps a few months, that you would feel things slightly shift between you, and she, you. You wanted more of Eowyn. More hours spent riding together across plains of tall grass and wildflowers. More evenings unraveling the debris of the wind from her unkempt golden hair. Eowyn wanted to share with you her greatest secrets and desires, her darkest fears. She wanted to sleep alongside you, her hands entwined with yours, to ward off the nightmares she often suffered. Eowyn found herself always in want of you; your voice, your presence, your scent. You become her comfort.

No matter how harrowing your appearance had been and the implications of other worlds beyond hers—Eowyn would never once wish that the fates or ancestors hadn't brought you to her across realms. You were everything she'd needed and yearned for in a friend and a partner her whole life, just for someone to see her and hear her.

You'd become everything to each other.

elrond | word count: 1.1k+

The Lord of Rivendell would be no stranger to mysterious visitors happening upon his halls unannounced. In fact, he'd begun to think it almost routine at the rate hobbits, dwarves, and all manner of beings showed up on his doorstep. But there was definitely something different about you, the visitor who claimed to hail from another land—no, you clarified, not just another village or region; another world.

Where cars and trains and buses rattled the bones of the earth and ushered time and society forward at a harrowing speed. Where kingdoms and governments warred endlessly and stars were a rarity to see above the lights of growing cities.

He would be interested in this "advanced" world of yours and desired greatly to learn more about its vast variety of life—but not as much as he was interested in making sure you were acclimating to such a drastic alteration of life itself.

He would be wary of you, due to his wealth of knowledge on all manner of strange magic and ill-boding omens (do you know how many peddling sorcerers and distasteful necromancers this man has had to turn away at his doorstep?). However, Elrond would be much more hospitable from the very beginning than any of his kin. He wouldn't be as off-standish or suspicious of you—at least, not to your face.

You would be given lodging and hearty food almost immediately rather than a cell and modest portions, as well as a servant-guided tour of Rivendell and access to most of the beautiful city (save for the sacred archives and private chambers). He would not only meet with you in the hours he could spare each day to decipher your journey into Middle-Earth, but he would recommend several pieces of history and literature to get you acquainted with the customs and cultures around you. He would let you into the library at any hour you needed, even in the wee morning hours when you couldn't sleep.

A gentleman through and through, your experience with him would be much different than with any other host you might have stumbled across.

He would be undeniably patient as you're thrust into an entirely different way of living in every possible aspect, down to the very brass tacks of human nature. It feels like you're having to be raised again, like how children are taught to take care of themselves and understand the way things and people around them work and operate. There is never a grievance expressed or muttered from him as you excelled with some aspects and struggled through others.

His graciousness and soft-spoken wisdom were just the cusps of how intelligent and tender-hearted the kind elf truly was—all of which you would come to know well when he had had plenty of time to adjust to you. His introvertedness would definitely be a bit of a stunt in the development of your relationship from acquaintances to romantic partners.

He wasn't one to speak just to engage in conversation and keep busy; he only spoke if he truly had something worth saying. That of course makes it difficult for you to try to communicate beyond discussions about your unprecedented situation. But if you asked a question or politely pressed for conversation, he wouldn't deny you his attention either. While this leaves you being the one to strike a majority of the conversations between you (outside of his devoted interest in learning about your situation), you don't mind all that much. You could push through your own social anxieties as long as the person was receptive and open to engagement, and Elrond certainly made extensive efforts to be as much and more.

You liked his quietness, though. It was attractive in a way that made you hang onto every word he did decide to share. It gives you a sense of comfort. It's startling at first, the way you're able to trust him so fast, especially given the absolute madness of your traveling between realms themselves. Surely it was wiser to have your guard up at all times when in a strange new world with such stark contrasts to your own, right?

But you just couldn't bring yourself to doubt someone so compassionate and sincere.

All the while you're slipping fast into fonder feelings with every day that dawns over Rivendell's many waterfalls and etched forests, Elrond is slowly dissecting every thought pertaining to you as it surfaces in his mind. He had already had one great love in his life, the mother of his sons and daughter, a loving lady who had led their kin alongside him. He would feel such a heavy burden of guilt when he realizes the same patterns of infatuation and fondness start to swell over him. The same fluttering, freeing feelings that he had felt with his wife in their early years together. The same wandering of thought, despite his very disciplined nature. The instinct to return to your side when he wasn't busy, as if that was suddenly where he belonged more than in his study or his chambers.

Within a mere few months, it was Lord Elrond who was escorting you to peer at moonlit waterfalls and forests set ablaze with fireflies and starlight. It was he, rather than a servant or guard, who taught you how to mount a steed more than half your height and ride with all the elegance of an elleth. It was he who felt his zeal for excitement return to him when you dared to race him beyond the forest and across the rushing ford. It was Elrond who sat with a smile on his face as he listened eagerly to the cultures that thrived in your world, specifically the details of your own home and heritage.

Although it took time to trust his own heart enough to feel more than politeness for someone, Elrond was no stranger to love or what it felt like. That's probably what would scare him so much when he first starts to feel himself becoming attached to you—the realization that somewhere along the discussions about your homeworld and the hours poured over tomes and memories...he was falling in love again.

Another facet of your growing relationship that would shock him would be the fact that he'd fallen in love with a human? Of course, he was the most tolerant of the race of men across all of his elven kin, but even that tolerance hadn't prepared him for the day he would face the same risk of love that his daughter had faced (you know, the courtship with a human that he'd told her to leave behind for immortality? Well, now he's facing the same question, darn it). He would absolutely need the approval of his children before even making a single stride in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, something permanent (spoiler alert, they would absolutely bless your courtship).

arwen | word count: 500+

Arwen Undómiel would be very open and intrigued by your arrival, especially when she notices how out of place you seemed to be, not only among her people but with the way of life itself in Middle-Earth. It isn't until she inquires about your odd behavior (the asking about cellphones and electricity and other foreign amenities) to her father that she realizes you had hailed from another world entirely—not just another region or from somewhere beyond the mountains. Learning this, her intrigue only grows.

She was a lady who adored her people and the comforts of her home, but was not a stranger to adventure and the restlessness that accompanies a free spirit. Because of her love for exploring and learning, you're like a perfect mixture of mysterious and confusing. She might not have understood how travel between realms was at all possible, but she didn't mind not knowing. After all, many of her kin were gradually departing to the Undying Lands beyond the sea—a place that, in its simplest explanation, was a sanctuary divided from the common world of Middle-Earth. If such a place as that could exist just beyond the western horizon, then surely it was not so outlandish to think that there were even broader realms beyond that.

Arwen, as stated before, is a very open individual when it comes to expressing her feelings and saying exactly what she means. There is no loitering about wondering about this or that—when Arwen desires to become your friend rather soon after your arrival in her father's halls, she does just that.

She would help you adjust to things with an abundance of patience and sincere interest. She would be excited to teach you about her people and her world—about its histories and legends. But even more so, Arwen would be of even more aid when it came to helping you work through your sporadic emotions as the shock and remorse of your situation became clearer with each day. Of course it was exciting to suddenly find yourself in a world as illustrious and peaceful as this one—but there was a home, a family, and a slew of friends and interests that had been left behind without warning. She doesn't belittle or rush your grieving process, and instead becomes your confidante and place of refuge.

She would speak on your behalf to her father, about what you might need or what you were struggling to understand. She would be your voice until you were able to get your bearings and become more and more comfortable while so far from everything you once knew to be true.

In short, she isn't one to be afraid of her feelings or have any reservations of expressing them the moment she becomes aware of them for herself. Because of that kind of communication and the way she would devote herself to helping you from the very first day, it doesn't take long before she confesses that she harbors a fondness for you, like how the moon has a fondness for the sea; how her father harbored a fondness for her mother, and still does.

It's her openness and her lack of fear in expression herself that draws you both together from the first moments you share. From then, your friendship developed naturally into something of romantic permanence. As your place in her world became cemented, your place in her heart flourished with unabashed sincerity.

legolas | word count: 500+

Legolas would be very suspicious and observant of you for quite some time before even engaging with you, much like his friendship with Gimli. Already being someone of very few words, Legolas would take his time in getting to know you before having even said a word to you. He was raised to be suspicious and discerning of "outsiders"; woodland elves, specifically those native to Mirkwood, were known for their suspicion and distrust of others, even their own kin.

So getting acquainted and close to someone who's not only not an elf or from Mirkwood, but also not even from Middle-Earth itself? That's gonna be a big barrier for him to get around and it's going to take time to achieve that familiarity and comfortability around you.

But when he does—it comes from seeing how you are with his friends, such as Aragorn and Gimli. His gradual trust builds up not from interacting with you for himself, but from observing how you communicated with others and treated his friends and allies. When he's more or less sure of your character, he would then venture into becoming friends. What he doesn't expect, however, is how quickly that friendship became something so much more to him.

Perhaps because he'd been getting to know you from afar and seeing how kind and generous you were with his loved ones despite the sheer confusion and fear you must be feeling every day in his strange world. It was one thing to venture away from home in search of adventure, even among unfamiliar faces, like he had. It was another entirely to be ripped from your world and everyone you knew, away from your kin and your people, away from your family, without any sort of warning or choice. He comes to admire you and the bravery you displayed every day just by choosing to exist in his world and trying your best to become a part of it.

Then he would notice how you'd been taught to fish with just a shaft and some thin twine by Aragorn's hand. How you kept absorbing skills as though you were a sponge, desperate to cling to any sort of help. This is when he would reach out and offer you archery lessons because "everyone should learn to have some skill with either a blade or a bow. It is better if you know both—but in your case, I think we should start with one." And you chose the bow, telling him how you admired how beautiful of a weapon it was, how graceful. You'd seen it in movies and read about great archers—you'd always wanted to be one. And so Legolas, though he had no idea what a movie was, vows to make you proficient with a bow.

It's really your devotion to learning about his world, about his friends, and eventually about him that really snares him in the end. The way you refused to wither and panic within the shelter of one of many great cities in Middle Earth, but instead wanted to see the world and get your bearings, despite how obviously unsteady it often made you feel. For you, you'd not only been brought to another world, but a world that was supposedly far behind in its technology. Everything had completely changed for you and yet you still worked hard to make something good out of your predicament. It's that bravery that pulls him to you.

galadriel | word count: 300+

Someone as wise and clairvoyant as the Lady of Lothlorien would not be surprised at your unprecedented arrival across realms. She had probably (listerally) seen you coming long before your arrival (remember that magic basin of psychic water she traumatized Frodo with?). Her ability to read the minds of others offered her an immediate leeway into your intentions and sincerity. This meant that while she was still careful with you, she was well aware that you posed no threat or harm to her people.

You, on the other hand, were more than wary of her upon your first meeting. It wasn't just the shock of entering a new world that made your heart uneasy to trust—but something about the ethereal, untouchable power about the Lady Galadriel herself that left you teetering into doubt and discomfort. While her beauty and gentleness made her alluring and with time to develop that trust, your doubts faded. Her goodness and generosity proved time and time again that her power wasn't something to fear.

Something that made her so wonderful once you grew trusting of her was how much she believed you—largely due to her ability to read minds and people themselves—and never doubted your character or motives.

Hailing from a world hewn with distrust and malice, the calm pace and sincerity in which Middle-Earth (and Lothlorien especially) was governed made you hopeful for what sort of life could be made there.

With the help and generosity of your hostess, you soon considered Lothlorien your home. Not just for its beauty and its sort of magnificence that you'd never seen in your world before—but also for the lady who watched diligently over her forest and her people. In time, you came to consider her your closest friend, someone you could wholeheartedly trust with your life.

Galadriel would find your naivety of her realm intriguing and would be more than happy to offer herself as your guide. She would find your tendency for loud bursts of laughter and curt outspokenness refreshing in a culture of hushed voices and gracious tones.

All in all, you're both quite a mystery for each other to solve. Luckily, neither of you mind the adventure of getting to know one another.

haldir | word count: 600+

To say that your first meeting had also been a bit of a rough start was the understatement of the century. I mean, who would react well to having a dozen arrows poised inches from their face while trying to find their way out of an unfamiliar forest? Your fear had quickly turned to frustration and anger, despite the threat of being pierced with the polished shafts of their arrows. Your quick turn to anger stunned the very poised marchwarden—it wasn't often that intruders grew hostile when threatened at the neck. Typically, people would stare back in silence like a doe stunned by fear.

A mixture of terror, exhaustion, hunger and dehydration had driven your more cooperative senses from your caliber of responses, evidently.

After you'd recovered well enough to be questioned over a generous meal, it was very obvious you were simply lost. Very, very lost. Of no threat to his people or the sacred forest they dwelled in, Haldir would have no issue in setting his pride aside to apologize for frightening you.

Soft-spoken and introverted, Haldir would have that wall of kind politeness that was at first almost polarizing to someone who'd just had the shock of their life by entering an entirely new realm in a split second. It would be many awkward attempts at sifting through your explanations and anxious emotions before Haldir was able to gauge how you would feel more inclined to trust him. And in order to achieve your trust, he would need to let you (a stranger, mind you) break through those carefully learned guards to see the real him behind the graceful countenance and elegant sentences.

It was your desperation to find answers, to understand if you had gone mad or if something so radical could have truly taken place, that sparked in Haldir the great need to console you. Generally, elves were calm and uninvolved beings—to those not understanding of their ways, they might even appear void of emotion. But that couldn't be any further from the truth. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

As your time in his homeland spanned from weeks to months, Haldir grew more and more attached to your side. Devoted to your wellbeing, he became more of a confidant and friend than the simple guide he had volunteered to be for you at the start. The softhearted nature that flourished within him bloomed around you, finding a home to take root in.

Your knowledge and straightforwardness about what you needed at any given time, whether it was a hot bath or an audience with the Lady Galadriel herself, struck a chord of admiration with Haldir. He didn't like having to piece together the riddles that strangers often gave when they were prejudiced or distrusting. Your sincerity in such matters, no matter how embarrassing or seemingly insignificant, quite honestly inspired the skilled marchwarden. With such honesty, he didn't have to work so hard to get the answers he needed to best help you.

In return, it's his diligence in his help that draws you to him. The absolution he promised with every request he listened to—there was never a question or a need he left unresolved for you. If you'd asked for your favorite meal from your world, he'd find some way to have it made for you. If you'd gone to him in a fit of tears and in need of comfort, his arms would be the first to be open to you.

It wasn't that you were a basket case, mind you (and if you were, he'd never let you or anyone around you use such insensitive terminology for your very validated expressions of distress). It was simply that you'd never been so vulnerable and in need of someone before. And Haldir, well...Haldir had never felt so inclined to a soul before, so effortlessly devoted and tethered as if some string was being pulled taught between you.

Haldir relished in being able to be of service to you.

And you held fast to the curious needing you felt for him.

gimli | word count: 400+

From the moment he met you, Gimli knew something wasn't quite right. Sure, you weren't waving the tips of pointy weapons or spitting out slews of evil curses at people—but you were like a shard of sea glass among grey stones. Everything about your stature, the way you spoke and carried yourself, the way you interpreted the world and its people around you...it was all so different from anyone he'd ever met before.

For starters, you're much more outspoken than anyone he'd come to know. You weren't afraid to speak your mind (and even include the occasional profanity to get your point across) in any given occasion or setting, even among elven nobility. The time you practically cursed his fair-haired elven friend Legolas out was an afternoon he'd not soon forget. Especially since the whole ordeal, which he conveniently didn't recall the details of, had most definitely been Gimli's fault rather than the prince's.

He wasn't too keen on trying to understand all the details about your predicament or how you came to be in this realm of all places. Gimli never asked for more of an explanation than you were willing to give, which was something you found quite refreshing amidst a slew of people who had been asking questions upon questions since your peculiar arrival to Middle-Earth. You knew you didn't have to explain yourself to him or try to make sense of it all in order to be believed—the red-haired dwarf simply nodded through his pipe smoke and moved on.

In all honesty, Gimli hadn't thought much of you at first, the same way he didn't think much about anyone until it was apparent their paths would cross more than once. He didn't give much effort into friendships that weren't of substance, despite the loss of much of his kin. If anything, it was harder for him to attach himself to friends now than it ever had been before due to the great losses he had suffered.

But when he does get accustomed to you, it's all over for him. Once Gimli gets attached to a friend or partner, his dwarven passion for loyalty and honor kicks in. He understands you're not familiar with this place, whether that meant Gondor or Edoras or any other region beyond Middle-Earth, and that's enough for him to believe you and offer some sympathies to your situation. He was kind of the same, you know. Far from home without any of his kin left to visit or send word to.

All in all, Gimli likes your modern gumption, your fighting spirit, and that occasionally sour tongue of yours. And although it's obvious he didn't have to protect you when you were very efficient in doing so for yourself, he would gladly spend an age or two by your side offering his services as a companion—and someday, perhaps as much more, if you'd allow it.

frodo | word count: 400+

Somewhat of an expert in the joys and terrors of adventuring, Frodo Baggins would be a most empathetic and compassionate companion to have upon crossing into his realm from your own homeworld. More than anyone, he would understand the pressures of having to keep it all together in the presence of unfamiliar faces. When he had been the ring bearer, shouldering an object with the very sentience of darkness within it, the fear and desperation had nearly overtaken him as he traveled into forests and mountains he'd never ventured to before. He couldn't imagine traveling between worlds—realms of existence entirely.

He would value the trust that you placed in him, handling it with the utmost care. His skill for listening is unparalleled, as is the wisdom he offers in return for your woes.

Frodo would find your situation extraordinary and fantastic. He wouldn't be able to resist asking all of his questions and brimming with excitement about this realm of yours beyond his reach. He would, however, do his best to temper his ecstatic humoring in favor of handling your delicate situation with attention and care. He found himself reminded of the years he spent as a young boy listening to Bilbo's stories of his grand adventures with goblin kings and dwarf lords and fire drakes from the north.

Imagine hours of pouring over books and scribbled notes his uncle had left behind for him, huddled near each other by a warm fire in his home. Papers and stacks of sifted lore and myth, anything pertaining to what had brought you to Middle-Earth, littering the floor around your folded legs and shared quilt. He would dedicate himself to helping you find the answers you were looking for, even in his small corner of the world (don't worry, he has this friend who's a king somewhere out on the southern plains who would be more than happy to lend some scrolls and tomes).

To Frodo, your mere existence is illuminating. Just having you pop up in his favorite glen while he was spending his usual afternoon reading was enough for him to strike an interest in you. You were yet another adventure, living and breathing, waltzing into his life. Sure enough, you become an answer to the hobbit's dwindling hopes for normalcy, thinking perhaps he was destined to the fate of bachelorhood and haunted memories, the same as his uncle.

You show him that it is possible for Frodo to have another adventure—one that won't cost him his soul or his life. (Just maybe his heart.)

samwise | word count: 500+

Samwise Gamgee knows a fool when he sees one—after all, he'd grown up with Merry and Pippin in his circle of friends. So when he's the first to believe you out of the tale-spinners and prank-weavers of the Shire, it's a relief to say the least.

He'd invite you into his home, seeing as you were so far away from yours and had no way of going back. He would offer you his pantry, his sunroom, his best linens and finest silk nightgown. There would be afternoons of gardening and learning a trade for yourself that would both provide food on the table and a bit of coin in the markets. Sam would be more than delighted to have a houseguest to cook for, seeing as his Old Gaffer wasn't one to spice up the recipes very often. But for you, Sam would cook a feast. He'd even sit down with you and help you write out recipes that reminded you of home, meals that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold day. He'd grow flowers you remembered seeing in your mother's garden.

Somehow, even so far away from your world and your home and your friends and family, Samwise Gamgee would give you a sense of home you'd never encountered before.

It was so exceedingly rare to find people so willing to lend such a selfless hand to others in need. Helping a strange person he'd never met find their way through Hobbiton was one thing—but inviting them into his home and giving them a place to stay and warm meals to eat without anything in return? Quite literally offering the (night) shirt off his back? You'd never been extended such kindness before.

When Sam realizes how much of a stranger you are to such hospitality, he would go all out with everything he possibly could. Finding it rather sad that you'd come from such a dismal world that was void of such simple acts of kindness, Sam can't help but want to display every possible act of kindness he can think of.

And Samwise found in you the purpose he'd yearned for all his life—the chance to be something for someone that no one else could, the chance to make a difference simply by being himself and doing what it is he does best. Although it was difficult for you to navigate through the differences and the culture shock of his world and his land—there was really very little to complain about when you find yourself in the Shire (except maybe those pesky neighbors who have nothing better to do than to stick their noses in your business between meals).

Eager to be at ease and belong, you are more than willing to learn all that Sam can teach you and his way of life. Your acceptance and sense of humor, joking about things he didn't quite understand (What was that you'd said about looking "at all those chickens"? Those had definitely been ducks swimming in the pond that day), worked together to win Sam's heart in no time.

It really didn't take long before Sam was fonder of seeing you disheveled in the mornings and in his borrowed nightgown than fixed up for the day ahead; for him to cherish those small domestic moments you'd both begun to share as time wore on. Before long, Sam found himself daydreaming of dances and the music of flutes and fiddles to set the pace.

merry | word count: 500+

This rascal would absolutely not believe a word that comes out of your mouth about whatever peculiar land it is you keep droning on about. Automobiles? Airplanes? Lanterns that work without fire? Portion control and food pyramids dictated by the government? What the bloody hell was all that nonsense? (Dark magic or the result of some soured Old Toby, he was sure of it.)

He'd volunteer himself to be your official tour guide to Middle-Earth, claiming he'd been as far as Mordor once (wherever that was, you had no idea) and was, therefore, the best guide anyone could ask for this side of Brandywine River.

For the longest time, Merry really thinks you're spinning tall tales about this world you came from with all these fancy doohickeys he hadn't a clue about. As someone proficient in telling exaggerated memoirs and pulling indulgent pranks, he would for the longest time assume that your explanation of origin was one and the same. Listen, he'd seen the weird stuff out there, probably as much of it as there was to see, and there definitely wasn't any Europes or Americas or Indias or anyplace else you kept mentioning.

When he's taking you on a stroll along his favorite trade route all the way to the Breelands and back home, any mention of your predicament (beyond being a lost traveler far from home) was met with a mischievous scoff and a twisted grin. Once, with a mouthful of fresh summer berry bread, he'd made such an expression of dubious skepticism that he hadn't needed to even utter the "uh-huh, sure" along with it.

He meant no harm in his teasing disbelief, of course, but sometimes the gradual accumulation of it got on your nerves. While Merry was fun, kind, and a very joyful and admirable hobbit to be around...sometimes it felt as though you were trying to convince a toadstool that its colors were indeed brown and not blue.

He's fond of you already, of course, nearly upon the moment he met you—who else was he taking on his little adventures across the many borders within the region of Eriador apart from Pippin and a batch of Old Toby?

As weeks pass and one day, his distrust in your explanations pricks a little too far beneath your skin, your bout of aggravated and fearful tears came as a shock to the hobbit. It's in that moment sat across from each other with a small campfire between you that his carefree persona faltered with guilt.

Oh, he thinks. You're telling the truth about all that.

From that moment on, he would be the most expressive and compassionate person you had ever met. He'd be sure you were getting your daily dose of sunlight and ale for the day, as well as whatever desserts or hearty meals you felt inclined to indulge. You'd become attached at the hip and wherever Merry (and usually Pippin) went, you were there with him (them). He'd already been welcoming and friendly to you, but now he had this sort of tenderness in his gaze that you thought might melt you through like a chocolate drop in the oven. And if anyone were to express the same sort of doubts or contribute to the rumor mill around Hobbiton about you, he'd put an end to it before it had gone beyond the hedges of Bagshot Row.

pippin | word count: 400+

Much like his rapscallion counterpart, Pippin's first impression would be that your whole story about arriving from another realm was a fabrication of your very active imagination. He and Merry had spun their fair share of tall tales and mischief as far and wide as the town of Bree and the little villages along the Brandywine river.

Unlike Merry, though, Pippin's reason for skepticism wasn't even so much skepticism as it was ignorance. He'd never knowingly poke fun at what you were going through, whether he thought it exaggerated or not. Pippin just truly didn't think it was at all possible for other places to exist. He really thinks you're joking or unsure of what you're even saying for the longest time.

But when Pippin figures it out after you become a sordid mess of blubbering tears over a pint of ale outside the Green Dragon Inn, he realizes everything you'd been trying to explain hadn't been a "really wonderful story" you'd been working on. It was how you'd come to be in the Shire, in Eriador, in Middle-Earth at all.

"There's no use cryin' ov'r a pint, (Y/n)! Ded someone let the barrel sour?"

You sniffled, trying to dry your eyes with the back of your hand before they were too heavy to extinguish. "It's not—it's not soured, Pip."

"Oh. Then what—?" He took a moment to understand. You'd been talking about a dog with two mismatching socks on its paws. A bedroom with fairies for lights and walls made of printed paintings. The way you'd been describing everything was almost too detailed to be off the top of your head...and then he realizes.

Pippin would buy you another pint, one untainted by salty tears. He'd do his best to listen more, although he still misinterpreted much of what you tried to explain. But it was better now, knowing that he was trying to comprehend this world of yours, rather than committing it to his memory as a tavern story.

He'd be excited to learn about what sort of drinks and food and pipeweed you had in your world and what sort of music your village danced to at seasonal festivities.

While Pippin may not be able to really grasp the extent of what you're explaining, that perhaps entire realms exist beyond the very vast one he had traveled across himself, you are reassured that he does at least believe you and understands the jest of it. And somehow, that's all you really needed—someone to just listen to what you were trying to say, to take your truth for what it was.

(Of course, this confirmation that you're really an "other-worlder" as he coined it means that he's designated himself to acclimate you to the life of a hobbit to its full extremities. This includes seven meals a day, which you're more than happy to oblige.)

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