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#and i'm planning to make more from time to time
ssahotchnerr · 1 day
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begging for nanny!reader x hotch
aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈
right now
🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵‍💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k
"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."
Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.
When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."
"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"
You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."
"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.
"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.
Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."
Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."
Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.
"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"
"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."
He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"
"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."
"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.
Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."
You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.
Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.
"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.
"What's he like?"
You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.
But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.
You were caged in, and not complaining.
It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.
Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.
"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.
Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.
Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."
"I think you should cancel it."
"Excuse me?'
"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."
You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"
"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."
"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"
A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."
"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.
"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."
You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.
"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."
You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.
"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."
A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.
"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.
And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.
"Yes."
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sceletaflores · 2 days
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couldn't help it, i had to kiss the teacher!
pair: professor!logan howlett x fem!reader wc: 3.6k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, age gap (reader is mid twenties...logan is...his age), gratuitous nickname usage, public sex (classroom), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), an impromptu clitoral anatomy lesson, scent kink, hair pulling, light traces of a foot fetish (i'm literally not even sorry), nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, nat trying to sound smart, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. a/n: based off of me going to my a&p lab today and getting super bored which somehow led to thoughts about professor logan who teaches a&p…that then spiraled into this very quickly. p.s this is like a t.a!reader not a student lol
professor logan has a special way of helping you retain information...
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You've been huffing and puffing for the last twenty minutes.
Logan has been blatantly ignoring you for the last twenty minutes, because that's the only way a man with enhanced hearing can ignore someone.
Blatantly.
He's been at the chalkboard since you came in a little after his last class ended, busy mapping out his lesson plan for tomorrow.
The chalk squeaks rhythmically as he writes, you tap your foot in time with it.
You're perched on top of his desk, different stacks of papers messily scattered all around you like a tornado of ungraded essays and homework assignments tore across the glossy cherry wood of it.
You glare at Logan's back harder, forcing yourself to ignore the way his muscles glide and flex beneath the thin fabric of his flannel with every move. You've got your chin resting on the palm of your hand that's propped against your knee, the other holding a red pen down by your shoe.
You sigh, long and overdramatic, for what feels like the millionth time.
Logan doesn't turn around, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all. His hand hardly even slows, jotting down different tissue structures with infuriating disinterest.
You shift on his desk with a huff, dragging your eyes back to the paper in front of you. You scan over the messy handwriting and tiny diagrams littered over the page as you tap the pen in your hand against the toe of your shoe absentmindedly.
"Knock it off," Logan mutters from across the room, not looking at you as he does. It's the first thing he's said to you since you showed up.
You instantly perk up at the attention, flicking your eyes back to him.
“Knock what off?” you ask innocently, tapping the pen on your shoe harder than before. The tiny 'clack' sound it makes is sharp in the quiet of the room.
Logan finally turns, fixing you with a look that’s equal parts annoyance and amusement. “The sighin’, the tappin’, the huffin’ like you’re a broken radiator. You’ve been makin’ noise since you sat down.”
You narrow your eyes at him, unrepentant. "I’m bored."
He lets out a dry chuckle, turning back towards to board with a amused shake of his head. “Not my problem, sweetheart.”
You frown, dropping the pen and sitting up straighter, as if you’ve just been handed a challenge. "You could try and help me," you suggest, gesturing to the scattered pile with a wave of your hand. "You know? Like a good professor would."
"I don't grade papers, kid. That's what you're here for." Logan shoots over his shoulder, seamlessly picking up where he left off. “Besides, I’m good with the chalkboard for now. Better company.”
“Chalk doesn’t talk back,” you grumble under your breath.
“Exactly.”
“Oh, so now you can hear me?"
Logan doesn’t bother replying, but you can see the barely there smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.
You scoot forward on his desk, pushing papers out of the way so your legs can dangle over the edge. You swing your feet back and forth, just enough to disturb another pile of papers sitting nearby, watching them slide closer to the edge.
One more swing and the corner of a stack teeters precariously. You bite your lip, considering whether or not to send it tumbling just to see if that would get him to turn around again.
Logan, of course, somehow knows exactly what you’re thinking without even glancing towards you. “Don’t,” he grumbles lowly, a warning.
You freeze mid-swing, but the urge to push his buttons is too tempting. "What?" you say, all wide-eyed innocence, nudging the pile ever so slightly with your knee.
Logan lets out a deep sigh, giving you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, you know that? I doubt Hank's help nags him half as much.”
You grin, taking that as a small victory.
"I was recommended," you remind him, tone overly cheery and saccharine.
"Must've been desperate," he mutters, finally stepping away from the board and dusting chalk from his hands. Logan turns, crossing his arms as he leans back against the chalkboard, giving you a look that says he’s just on the edge of being amused
You raise an eyebrow, fixing him with a blank stare. "I’ll be sure to pass that along to Professor Xavier."
Logan shakes his head, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “Yeah? Be my guest. Make sure you tell him you’re spendin’ your time testin' my patience instead of your job.”
You slump back on the desk with a groan, head tilted towards the ceiling. "It's been forever since I've taken this class," you whine, rolling your head to the left lazily. "I hardly remember any of this, how am I supposed to grade it?"
"Barely remember any of this?" he repeats back to you, brow raised in disapproval. He pushes off the chalkboard and starts to make his way towards you. His steps are slow, deliberate, like he’s sizing you up—though you know it’s mostly for show. 
Mostly.
You watch him through half-lidded eyes, still splayed back on your palms and kicking your feet languidly. There’s chalk dust littered over his chest and the front of his thighs, coating them in a thin layer white. Your gaze trails the path of his steps, a slow smile tugging at your lips the closer he gets.
Logan stops in front of you, his towering frame almost filling your view entirely. You’re able to look him in the eyes perched on his desk like this, the green of them is darker than normal.
He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes glint with a teasing challenge as he tilts his head slightly, like he’s daring you to keep going.
“You got cotton in your ears when I’m up there talking or what?” he asks, voice dipping lower than before.
Your smile widens, and you shrug, trying to keep your cool under his heavy gaze. “You know I can’t listen to you when you wear jeans that tight.”
His eyes lock onto yours, their usual sharpness softened by something more dangerous, something that sends a thrill down your spine. "Maybe if you paid a little more attention," he says, voice a low rumble, "you wouldn’t need to whine so much."
You roll your eyes, even as the heat between you starts to curl in your chest. "Or maybe," you counter, leaning back a touch more and tilting your head up to meet his gaze better, "you could actually help me instead of being a complete pain in the—"
Before you can finish, Logan’s hands slam down on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours now, that barely-there smirk playing on his lips again.
You can feel the warmth radiating off him, the sharp edge of his stare cutting through your casual defiance.
“—ass,” you finally finish, voice slightly more breathless than before.
Logan just stares at you, the intense and unwavering attention you were itching for earlier makes you want to squirm in place now. His gaze is almost predatory, as if he’s taking in every flutter of your eyelashes and the quickening pace of your breath. 
Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down.
You lean forward a little, tilting your head. "So, what’s it gonna take to get you to grade just one of these?" You pick up a paper from the pile and wave it in front of him teasingly. “I really need your help, professor.” 
The word drips from your lips like a challenge, a taunt.
Logan’s eyes flicker with something dangerous, a flash of heat that tells you he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. His fingers brush against the desk right beside your thigh, close enough to feel the warmth of him but it’s still too far.
He leans down slightly, inches away from your lips. His breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting, as the tension in the air thickens.
The scent of him—woodsy and masculine—invades your senses, and you can’t help but feel exhilarated. Your pulse starts to race, a mix of excitement and a hint of challenge flashing between you. 
You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut as you lean forward almost involuntarily.
Just as you’re about to close the gap, he pulls back, straightening up with a smug grin.
“Tell you what,” he starts, voice gone casual like he isn’t testing the very limits of your sanity. “I’ll help you.”
You open your mouth, cocky victory speech on the tip of your tongue, but Logan cuts you off.
“Not with grading,” he clarifies with a shake of his head. “It’s more like a," he takes a slow pause, like he's trying to find the right words, "personalized lesson.”
You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse thunders in your ears. "What kind of lesson are we talking about?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but it still comes out breathless.
His hands move from the desk, gliding up your legs until they rest just above your knees, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve ending in your body. 
“Logan—”
Anything you were going to say dissolves into a breathy gasp when he drops to his knees in front of you.
Your thighs clench together, arousal pooling in your panties sticky and wet. Logan's nose twitches, eyes darkening as he scents the headiness of your essence in the air.
His mouth twitches into a slow, deliberate grin as he catches the shift in your scent, the change in your body language betraying your desire. 
His hands, firm yet careful, slide higher along your thighs, fingers brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. The fabric rucks up ever so slightly under his touch, exposing just a little more of you to the cool air of the room and the heat of his gaze.
"Real quiet now," he teases darkly, voice husky and thick with tension, his thumbs tracing small, maddening circles against your skin. "Not so mouthy anymore, huh?"
Your breath hitches, a low heat sparking in the pit of your stomach and spreading outward.
Logan's grip tightens slightly, as though he’s testing the weight of your response, the way your thighs tense beneath his hands. He looks up at you, eyes dark and gleaming with an intensity that makes it impossible to think straight.
“You talk a lot of game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill down your spine, “but I think it’s time to show me you can learn something."
You tilt your head back, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. Your body’s betraying you, hips shifting slightly forward, your legs spreading just so, inviting more of his touch—inviting him to make good on that unspoken promise that hangs between you.
Logan’s smirk deepens, dangerously close to devouring the last of your composure. "All you gotta do," he drawls, his breath hot against the inside of your thigh, "is ask for it."
His hands slide up a little more, his fingers catching on the edge of your panties. You can't help the sharp inhale that escapes you.
His challenge hangs in the air, thick and heavy, but you're past the point of hesitation. The words leave your lips before you even realize it.
"Teach me."
Logan’s grin spreads like wildfire, the kind that sparks and sets everything in its path ablaze. His eyes never leave yours, holding you captive as he flips your skirt up.
Something low and gritty tears its way from his chest at the sight of your panties, soaked fabric melded against the shape of your aching pussy. The sound echoes in the quiet room, low and primal, stirring a deep thrum of excitement in the pit of your stomach.
He shoves his way between your thighs, spreading them even further to make enough room for the width of his shoulders.
"You're a smart girl," Logan says easily, leaning down to trail kisses along the skin of your inner thigh, just inches from where you really need his mouth. "You should be able to tell me what tissue this is made of."
He dips his head, trailing his nose along the soaked fabric of your cotton panties until it nudges against your clit.
"Logan, I– ah!”
A sharp slap to your thigh cuts you off, pinpricks of pleasure making you cry out as they bloom red across your skin.
“Is that what you call me?”
It takes a second to click in the haze of your mind, what he’s asking for. When it finally does, you're whole body shivers, a broken moan falling from your lips as you take in the expectant look in Logan's eyes.
Your mind whirls, but the answer tumbles from your lips like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
"Professor," you gasp, voice soft and laced with need.
Logan's grin is devilish, hands gripping your hips tight enough that you can feel the strength behind them.
"Good girl," he growls, voice thick with approval, the heat in his gaze burning you from the inside out. 
You let out a soft whimper, hips instinctively tilting toward him, silently begging for more. But he doesn’t move. Instead, his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you firmly in place.
“Uh-uh," he rumbles, his mouth inches from you, but not close enough to touch. "You know how this works. You haven’t answered my question."
You can’t respond, silent as you stare down at Logan, wide-eyed as your mind races for anything to say that’ll get him to keep going.
"Come on, baby," he urges, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin. "Just tell me somethin' smart, I'll give you what you want."
You try to focus, try to remember something—anything—about what he taught in class. But all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your thighs, the heat of his breath, the maddening nearness of his mouth.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your panties, just shy of where you need him most, and you can't help the frustrated groan that escapes you.
“What's sweet thing made of?" He nudges the soaked fabric against your clit again, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
"Fuck...erectile tissue," you manage to breathe out, mind fogged as you claw for the right answer. "But it's—it's surface is covered in epithelial tissue."
Extra credit.
Logan hums, the sound low and approving. 
"Very good," he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin sends a shiver of pure pleasure through you, your body arching off the desk in response.
His fingers tease along your slit, and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to spill out. Logan watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he spreads you open with his fingers, exposing the slick heat between your legs.
Your back arches off the desk with a loud moan, hands gripping the edge hard enough that your knuckles turn white with it. 
“Fuck, look at that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, sliding his index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. “This is all for me? This pretty pussy all wet for your professor?
He presses a finger against your entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip inside before pulling back, relishing the way your body instinctively arches toward him.
You shake your head, peering down at him with glassy eyes. “You were never my professor,” you shoot back breathlessly, unable to keep from pushing against him even now.
Logan hums absentmindedly, eyes glued to the space between your legs. “Lucky you,” he drawls, sinking two fingers inside you without warning.
Your head falls back with a cry, thighs tightening around his shoulders as sparks go off at the base of your spine. 
“Now, tell me how you feel,” Logan prompts, his voice gravelly and filled with that dark, teasing edge. His fingers glide up, slick as they draw tantalizing circles over your clit that set your nerves ablaze.
You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with arousal as you wrestle with the overwhelming sensations. “I—uh,” you stammer, trying to organize your thoughts, but they slip away like sand through your fingers. “I feel–ah!…good.”
Logan lets out a chuckle. “Good, huh? Just good? You can do better than that. Don't get shy now, baby.”
His hand speeds up, the lewd noise of your slick pussy fills the room with each thrust. “What’s it feel like when I’ve got my fingers in you, hm?”
The dam breaks inside of you, all the embarrassment leaving your body as your hips start rocking down against him lightly.
“Feels so good,” you slur, head lolling to the side to watch him through half-lidded eyes. “Your fingers feel so good in me, professor.”
You’re playing with fire and you know it, but when your eyes slip down his body to find the hard imprint of his cock more than visible through his jeans, you can’t help yourself.
You slide your foot up his toned thigh until the chunky sole brushes against the tented denim.
Logan’s eyes flutter shut for just a second, his grin turning almost feral as he feels the pressure of your foot against him. His hips rock forward slightly, just enough to acknowledge your touch.
“You’re pushin’ your luck, kid,” he bites out, voice rough as gravel, but there's a thread of amusement running through it—like he’s enjoying this game just as much as you are.
You give him a slow, languid smile. "Maybe I like pushing," you breathe, dragging your foot up and down the length of him slowly.
Logan groans darkly, sliding his fingers out of you in one slick motion that makes you whine in protest. His hand moves to grip your ankle, firm but not painful, keeping you pressed against his cock. 
“God, you smell so fuckin’ good,” he says quietly, the words passing through his lips like he couldn’t hold them in anymore. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. 
"Taste even better." His voice is rough, filled with desire that matches your own. You can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily, begging for more.
His grin widens, and finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, he gives in. Logan lowers his head, his mouth pressing against your clit in a slow, deliberate kiss that has your back arching off the desk, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.
Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as you guide him closer, urging him on. His tongue flicks against your clit expertly, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin with every drag of his head. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.
Your body feels like it’s been set on fire. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap. 
“I—I think I’m going to—” you stammer, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he picks up the pace, fingers moving faster.
“Tell me,” he growls, the rumble of it vibrating against your clit as he holds your gaze, plunging his fingers back inside of you. “I want to hear you say it.”
“God, Professor! Fuck, Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body trembling, ready to explode. Your pussy weeps around the stretch of his thick fingers, soaking his hand and his wrist with your wetness.
"Atta' girl," he growls, pressing his thumb over your clit to send a jolt of ecstasy through your core. "Makin' a fuckin’ mess all over my desk, just like that.”
He leans in, wrapping his mouth around your clit and sucking while his fingers keep up their relentless pace. With barely any pressure, he drags the harsh edge of his teeth over your clit and sends you tumbling over the edge, your body arching into his mouth as you come. 
The sheer force of it has your whole body tensing, your foot pressing on the clothed length of his cock harder than before. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as his hips buck up against the heel of your shoe. 
As you ride the waves of ecstasy, Logan’s eyes stay locked on yours, watching. Greedy eyes taking in every detail of your face, every moan and whimper that falls from your slick lips, every tremor of your body.
He doesn’t relent, his fingers working you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left breathless, heart racing, and utterly spent. 
As you come down from the high, you glance at him, chest heaving with exertion. 
Logan’s already looking at you, his gaze has a little more softness mixed in with the heat still simmering. He drops one last kiss to the slick skin of your thigh before pushing your foot off his lap and standing. His lips and chin glistening with your release, that cocky smirk still firmly in place as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Your eyes fall to where he’s still hard and tenting the denim of his jeans, pre-come leaking from the tip to stain the fabric darker.
“Ready for another one,” he whispers, leaning in close. His lips brush over yours, hips slotting between your thighs to grind the hard length of his cock along your sensitive pussy.
You can’t help the smug smile that takes over your face, your arms raising up to circle around his neck. Your eyes trail along the boards forgotten lesson plan over his shoulder, to the papers that were sitting on his desk scattered on the hardwood. 
Your legs circle his waist, draagging him closer.
"I think so."
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tpwk-formula1 · 3 days
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Omg hi. I just found you and cheered. I have a order.
Lando Norris, Thick Crust, Red Sauce,
Cherry Tomatoes, Root beer, Mango Smoothie,
Aftercare
If you could maybe make it a dizzy, inconcent reader where people flirt with her and she dosnt now and flirts back and Lando thinks the only way for people to leave her alone would be if she pregnant with his child. And he definitely has feelings for her. 🤭
✨️THANK YOU ✨️
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex cherry tomatoes "I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies" root beer daddy kink mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Lando Norris
Lando x Ditzy! reader
AN: Okay! So I am so sad that I had to close my requests early but in a week I got over 100 requests which is fucking amazing and I am so happy for them but I want to make sure requests are coming out in a timely manner so I will be completely all requests within the next few weeks and once the Pizzeria is back open it will be a rebrand... So if you have any prompt ideas, kinks, or overall things you want to see get added to the menu just send me a message and I'll see what I can do!
TW breeding kink, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, rough sex, creampie, jealous Lando
WC 1200+
Y/N POV
"Danny! You can't just say things like that," I laugh loudly with the Australian in front of me. I can feel my cheeks growing red from the sexual joke Daniel just cracked.
I can feel a hand on my lower back making me look over my shoulder to find Lando making my smile grow more before I lean up and place a kiss on his cheek.
"What are you two up to?" Lando questions with a slight edge in his voice.
"Was just telling, Y/N about my summer break," Daniel says with a smile. I watch as Lando's face grows in a smile before he's ushering us towards the bar.
"Don't wander to far," Lando tells me making me look up and smile.
"Okay, babe!" I say when I place a kiss on his cheek.
"Are you okay?" I ask Lando softly making him nod his head before flagging the bartender down and ordering both of us drinks.
As time passed I found myself talking with Charles and Ollie.
"Charles! You'll have to invite me over sometime!" I tell Charles as he finishes telling me how he finally got Leo to stop peeing in the kitchen.
"Hey, sorry to interrupt but I'm just gonna steal her away. We have early morning plans so I gotta get this one off to bed," Lando says randomly interrupting making me raise a brow before trying to speak.
"Say bye," Lando tells me before I can even say anything.
I just turn back towards the two men waving a good bye before following Lando out of the club.
"I literally told you not to wander off," Lando snapped when we finally hopped into our Uber.
"Lando, I could see you the whole time," I reply back softly not understanding why he was so mad.
"Could you? Cause there was a solid 5 minutes where I was wandering around to find you," Lando tells me roughly making me huff and turn my back on him to look out the window.
Lando and I sat in silence for the rest of the car ride when we finally pulled up to his apartment building instantly making me get out and march to the front doors not waiting for Lando.
When we get into his apartment I lock myself in his bathroom still not wanting to talk to him, but eventually I had to face him and when I walked out of the bathroom I was changed into a silky sleep dress while Lando was sitting in bed in his boxers.
"I don't wanna see you entertaining men anymore. You're mine," Lando says not even looking up from his phone.
"Last time I checked, you were the one who was adamant we were nothing more than sex and money," I reply back while climbing into the bed next to Lando.
"Do you see the way you walked into my home like it was yours? How you climb into MY bed like it was yours? The way you have half my closet full of your stuff? That's all because you're mine, whether it has been a discussion or not, you have come into my life and fucked up any prior deal, so fucking sue me if I set a boundary with you," Lando finally snaps back making me look around his room realizing that over the year of us hooking up for money I had basically moved in. I had made his home our home and I didn't even realize.
"Lando, I think we should have this discussion when we are both fully sober," I tell him softly. I knew what I wanted sober or drunk I wanted Lando to be mine but was this just some drunk game Lando was playing.
"No, I'm barely fucking tipsy., I didn't even realize you didn't realize you were mine. I thought it was unspoken," Lando tells me softly before turning towards me and placing a soft kiss on my lips.
"Do you know how many men want to fuck you?" Lando questioned with a raised brow making me laugh slightly.
"Lando, you're the only man who wants to fuck me," I reply back with a roll of the eye.
"You're mine," Lando said moving topics again and pulling me in for a heated make-out session.
I quickly climb into Lando's lap and grind my bare pussy against his briefs making his groan slightly.
"I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lando tells me softly making me sit up and stare at him in complete shock.
"The fuck are you on about now?" I ask Lando before he pulls me back into for a kiss where he flips us over so I am now under Lando letting him grind into me backing me whimper.
"You're mine and when you walk around that fucking paddock in 6 months everyone will fucking know you're mine," Lando said while trailing kisses down my neck making it clear he was marking his territory.
"You're insane," I whisper back but it quickly turns into a moan because Lando is leaning down and taking a soft lick out of my clit.
"Daddy," I moan when Lando starts sucking on my clit while lightly teasing my soaked hole with his fingers.
"Oh fuck," I scream out when Lando slips 2 fingers in and finds my G-spot.
"I want you to cum on my fingers," Lando says while speeding his actions making me feel the band in m stomach start to grow tight letting me know I was close to cumming for Lando.
"Daddy," I scream out when the band finally snaps and I'm cumming all over Lando's fingers. Lando helped ride my orgasm out before he's pulling his briefs down and roughly shoving his cock deep into my pussy.
"Oh! Daddy," I gasp still not fully recovered from my previous orgasm and can already feel a second one building up.
"Fucking hell, so damn needy already gonna cum for me," Lando said with a smirk while bringing his hand down to my clit and giving it a rough rub bringing me closer to the edge.
"Daddy," I whine when I feel myself reach the point of no return, cumming all over Lando's cock with a shout. I was shaking and so long in my own pleasure, I don't feel Lando's hips shutter as he fills my pussy full of his cum.
"I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies," Lando groans with a smirk while slowly pulling out of me.
"Lando, I probably didn't get pregnant from one time," I tell him softly with a laugh falling from my lips.
"I'll fuck you until you do," Lando says with a shrug. That night we fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.
6 weeks later
"Fucking hell," I gasp while staring down at the positive pregnancy test.
"I told you, you were gonna have my babies," Lando said with a proud smirk.
"Lando, what the fuck are we gonna do?" I ask starting to panic.
"Hey, calm down! It's all gonna work itself out," Lando tells me softly while pulling me into his chest.
"I can't wait to see everyone's face when you show up to the paddock supporting a bump caused by me baby," Lando tells me making me laugh lightly.
I knew we would figure everything out. It wasn't how I pictured myself getting pregnant but boy am I happy it's how it happened.
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kumkaniudaku · 2 days
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Stay A While (3)
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Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 5,049
Part: 3 of ??
Warnings: Smut (18+)
One. Two.
"Well, James, how you been?" 
"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 
Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 
James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 
With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 
After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 
Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 
"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 
"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 
"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 
"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 
"And you too." 
Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."
The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 
"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"
"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."
"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 
Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 
"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 
"Ah, Pop, I don-" 
"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 
Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 
Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 
"What's this?" 
"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."
"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 
"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 
"Pop." 
"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 
In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.
Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 
"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 
"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 
Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 
"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 
Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 
"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 
"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 
Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 
Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 
Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 
When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 
"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 
Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 
"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 
Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 
Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.
"I missed you." 
Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 
Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 
"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 
"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 
She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 
Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 
"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 
Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 
"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 
"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 
Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."
Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 
"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 
Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 
Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 
Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 
But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 
"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."
Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 
Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.
Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 
"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 
"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 
"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."
"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 
"I'll speak up. I promise." 
Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 
They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.
Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 
Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 
"What's this?" 
"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 
"When's the last time you used it?" 
"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.
"Since I've been here?" 
She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 
The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 
Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 
The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.
In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 
She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 
Desire. 
Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 
Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 
He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.
Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 
Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 
Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 
Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 
Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 
There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 
Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 
Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 
"You trust me?" 
"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 
"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 
Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 
Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 
The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 
Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 
"You're beautiful. You know that?"
She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 
"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 
A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 
"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 
"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 
"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 
A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 
"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 
She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 
Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?
"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 
A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 
"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 
Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 
"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 
Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 
It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 
Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 
Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 
Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 
When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 
Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 
Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.
Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 
Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 
Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.
The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 
Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 
"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 
Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 
The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 
She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 
Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 
Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 
"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."
"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 
He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."
Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 
"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 
Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 
Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 
He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 
His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 
"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 
"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 
"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 
"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 
Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.
Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 
"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 
He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 
"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 
Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 
His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 
"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 
Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 
Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 
After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.
He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.
From: McBride 
You check your mail? 
Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down
Know you said you weren’t coming back
Do it for Mike
---
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r
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BTS Reaction || You're Friends With Benefits and you're Pregnant
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☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024
☪MASTERLIST
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SEOKJIN:
You were sitting across from Jin, your hands trembling slightly as you muster the courage to tell him the news. it was something you'd been meaning to do for a few weeks now but every time you'd tried to do it you'd lost all of your courage. 
"Jin..." You whisper a little. His warm smile faded as soon as he saw the seriousness in your expression. The two of you had been friends for years and he knew how to read you like a book.
"I need to tell you something important." You started a little and he leaned in slightly, concern etched on his face.
"What is it? You know you can tell me anything." You take a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. You knew you could tell him anything but that didn't make what you needed to tell him any easier to say.
"I'm pregnant." For a moment, Jin is silent, his eyes widening as he processes your words. You can see the surprise flash across his face, but it quickly gives way to a calm, thoughtful expression. He inhales deeply, letting the news settle before responding.
"Okay," he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
"Okay? T-That's all you have to say?!" Your voice cracked as you let out some of your own panic but Jin took your hand in his and gently soothed your skin a little.
"Let me finish," He laughs softly as he looks at you,
"This is unexpected, but we're going to get through this." he squeezed your hand a little as he looked at you.
"I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, step by step." You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was already thinking ahead, trying to be strong for you. 
"We need to talk about what you want," he continues softly. He didn't want to force you into keeping the baby or force you into not keeping them. He was going to be there for you no matter what you wanted.
"Whatever you decide, I'll support you 100%. We don’t have to rush into anything right now. We can take our time to figure out what’s best for you, for us, and for the baby." Jin’s calmness made you feel better as you nodded at him.
"I want this...I-I want the baby." You whipped as he nodded, bringing you into his arms.
"We’ll get through this together. A mini me or you would be cute to have around," he promises you as you giggle a little.
YOONGI:
You and Yoongi are sitting in his studio, the soft hum of music playing in the background as he tinkers with some tracks. The atmosphere is relaxed, but your growing anxiety makes it hard for you to stay calm. Yoongi knew it wasn't like you to be quiet, and he frowned, glancing over at you with a concerned look.
"You’re quiet," he observes, as he looks at his computer. The two of you had planned to go to dinner but he was working late. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as you try to find the right words. This was something that wasn't expected, the two of you were just supposed to have sex and nothing more and yet now everything was going to be changing.
"Yoongi, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s... important." He turns his chair to face you fully, sensing the seriousness in your voice. His usual laid-back expression shifts slightly as concern creeps in. 
"What is it?" he asks, his tone calm but tinged with a subtle tension. 
"You know you can tell me anything." He finished,
"I’m pregnant," you say, the words coming out in a rush before you lose your nerve.
For a moment, the room falls into a heavy silence. Yoongi just stares at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes widen slightly, but his face remains largely impassive, his usual calm exterior giving little away. He blinks a few times, his mind clearly working to process the unexpected news.
"Pregnant?" he finally repeats, his voice quiet, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. He leans back in his chair, his gaze drifting away from you as he tries to make sense of what you’ve just told him.
You watch as his expression darkens, his usual calmness giving way to a troubled look.
"This… this wasn’t supposed to happen," he mutters, his voice low and strained. 
"We were just… It wasn’t meant to get this complicated." There’s a coldness in his tone that you’ve never heard before, a detachment that makes your heart sink. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh as he stares at the floor, his thoughts clearly racing.
"I don’t know if I’m ready for this," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 
"I don’t even know where to begin." He whispered. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check. Yoongi was always been someone who values control, and this news has clearly thrown him off balance. He’s retreating into himself, his mind turning over the implications of what you’ve just told him.
"Yoongi, I’m scared too," you say softly, hoping to reach him through the wall he’s starting to build. You weren't going to let him shut down.
"But we need to figure this out together. I can’t do this alone." His gaze finally shifts back to you, and you can see the turmoil in his eyes. There’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or guilt—but it’s quickly swallowed up by the storm of emotions he’s trying to suppress.
"I know," he says after a long pause, his voice rough around the edges. 
"I just… I need time to think. This is a lot to take in." He stands up, pacing the small space as he tries to wrap his head around the situation. His usual confidence is shaken, replaced by a deep uncertainty that weighs heavily on him. But despite his inner turmoil, there’s still a part of him that cares about you, that wants to do the right thing, even if he’s not sure what that is yet.
"I need time." He repeated and you could hear the distance in his tone, a hesitation that lingers, but there’s also a flicker of determination in his eyes. Your eyes teared up as you realised you were probably going to have to do this all alone.
"But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll talk more, figure out what’s next… together." He whispered as he sat back down, 
"We're doing this together, no matter what." He promises, kissing your hand softly.
HOSEOK:
You and Hoseok were sitting at your apartment, you'd invited him around like you did most weekends and he'd been ready for it. What he hadn't been ready for was the serious look on your face as you sat across from him,
"Hoseok, I need to tell you something… It’s big." His smile fades as he focuses entirely on you, worry now evident in his eyes. "
What is it? You sick? I know you've been off for a while, did you finally go to the doctor?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with anxiety.
"I’m pregnant." You rushed out. The words hang in the air for a moment as he processes what you just said. His eyes widen in surprise, and you can see a mix of emotions flashing across his face—shock, concern, and something else, something softer.
"Pregnant?" he repeats, almost as if testing the word out. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. 
"Wow, okay… this is... a lot to take in." He whispered as you nodded a little. You knew it was going to be a lot for him.
He falls silent for a moment, his mind clearly racing. But then he looks at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his lips as he reaches for your hand.
"I won’t lie, I’m a little scared," he admits, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. 
"But… we’ll get through this, okay? It might not be what we planned, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work out. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time." You can see the concern still lingering in his eyes, but he’s trying his best to stay positive, and to be your source of strength in this unexpected situation.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.
"Are you okay? This must be really overwhelming for you." You nod, a small smile breaking through your nervousness as you see how hard he’s trying to stay optimistic for you. 
"I’m okay, just… scared, I guess."
"Me too," he admits, his smile widening just a bit. 
"But you know what? We’re a team, right? And teams stick together, no matter what." He smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into a warm hug,
"We’ll take it one day at a time," he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with determination. 
"We're gonna have a baby," you whisper as he runs his hand down to your stomach, touching it softly and smiling brightly. 
"I'm gonna be a dad." He grins down at you, kissing you softly.
NAMJOON:
When you'd invited Namjoon around he thought it was for the same reason he'd been needing to talk to you,
"We'll go at the same time," he chuckles as you nod a little. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking. 
"I’m pregnant."
"I love you-" Your heart launched into your throat as you stared at Namjoon. For a moment, Namjoon is silent, his mind clearly working at a million miles an hour. His initial reaction is one of shock, his eyes widening as he absorbs the news. He quickly pulls himself together, though, and his expression shifts to one of focused determination.
"Wow... okay, this changes everything," he says, his voice calm but thoughtful. He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. 
"First, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" You nod, relieved that he’s handling the situation so thoughtfully. 
"I’m… I’m okay, just really overwhelmed." He leans back, exhaling slowly as he runs a hand through his hair. 
"I get that. This is a lot to take in, for both of us." His tone is measured, as if he’s already planning the next steps in his mind. 
"We need to talk about all our options. I want to make sure you feel supported, whatever you decide. This isn’t just about us anymore—it’s about what’s best for you and the baby." Namjoon’s mind is clearly in overdrive, but he’s making a conscious effort to remain calm and focused for your sake. He leans forward, his gaze serious yet caring.
"Joonie..." You trail off, remembering what he had said to you, he looked at you, forgetting for a moment he'd confessed that he loved you.
"I love you too." you smile, kissing him softly as you touch his hand on your stomach and relax a little. Knowing that you weren't alone was going to help a lot with all of this.
JIMIN:
You and Jimin are sitting in your living room, the atmosphere a mix of nervous excitement and underlying tension. You’ve just told him that you’re pregnant, and while you’re were still trying to process the news, Jimin’s reaction was… intense.
His eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at you in shock. Then, almost as if a switch flips, he jumps up from the couch, his mind racing a mile a minute. 
"Oh my god, you’re pregnant!" he exclaims, running a hand through his hair. 
"We need to get everything ready. You have to start taking vitamins, right? And what about your diet? Are you getting enough nutrients? Oh god, we need to make sure you’re eating all the right things!"
He starts pacing back and forth, his face a mixture of concern and sheer panic.
"Do we have a plan? What about the doctor? You need to see a doctor, like, right now. And we don’t even have a nursery set up! How are we going to do this? I don’t even know the first thing about babies! Should I be reading books? I need to read books, don’t I?" You watch him, trying to keep a straight face, but the sight of him spiralling into a full-blown panic is both endearing and amusing. A giggle escapes your lips, and soon you’re laughing, the sound light and infectious. Jimin stops mid-pace, turning to look at you with wide eyes.
"Why are you laughing?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. 
"This is serious! We have so much to do!" He panicked at you and you couldn't help but laugh harder. You shake your head, still giggling as you reach out to take his hand, pulling him back down to the couch beside you. 
"Jimin, calm down," you say, trying to suppress another laugh.
"We don’t have to do everything all at once. We’ll figure it out together." You smiled at him, out of the two of you, you thought you would be the one to react like this. He looks at you, his expression softening as he realizes how worked up he’s gotten. 
"I’m just… I don’t want to mess this up," he admits, his voice small and vulnerable. "I want to make sure you’re okay, that the baby’s okay. I’m freaking out because… I care so much." You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 
"I know you do. But you don’t have to do it all by yourself. We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?" He nods, taking a deep breath as he tries to calm himself down. But as he looks at you, something shifts in his expression—something deeper, more serious. He hesitates for a moment as if weighing his words, before finally speaking.
"I need to tell you something," he says quietly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. 
"I’ve been freaking out, not just because of the baby, but because… this is so much more to me than just being friends." Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, his voice trembling slightly. Your heart raced as you stared at him,
"I love you," he confesses, his eyes shining with emotion. "Not just as a friend, but as something more. I think I’ve loved you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to say it. And now, with this… I can’t keep it to myself anymore." For a moment, the room is silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face as you reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.
"I love you too, Jimin," you whisper, your voice full of warmth.
"I think I’ve felt this way for a long time too." Relief floods his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His eyes soften as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. 
"We’re going to be okay," he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "We’ll figure this out together. And I promise, I’ll be there for you and our baby every step of the way." He runs his hands over your stomach.
TAEHYUNG:
You and Taehyung are sitting on the bathroom floor, your knees pulled up to your chest as you wait for the pregnancy test results. The silence between you is thick with tension, the air heavy with the gravity of the situation. Taehyung, usually so calm and collected, fidgets beside you, his fingers tapping nervously against the tiles. He glances over at you, his eyes filled with concern. 
The two of you had been worried for a while since you'd been sick lately and he was the one that thought of the pregnancy test first.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks softly, breaking the silence.  You nod, trying to muster a small smile despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. 
"I’m okay, just… scared." You admitted. If you were pregnant everything was going to change. It wasn't just going to be sex without strings anymore, There would be A LOT of strings.
Taehyung shifts closer to you, his hand gently finding yours. He squeezes it, his touch warm and reassuring. 
"I know this is scary," he says, his voice steady despite the fear you can see lurking in his eyes. 
"But whatever happens, I’m here for you. I mean it." You look at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you see is sincerity. 
"Taehyung, this… this wasn’t part of the plan. We were just… you know." He nods, his expression serious but tender. 
"I know. We started this as friends with benefits, and I thought I could keep it casual, but… it’s never been just that for me." His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. 
"I’ve cared about you more than I ever let on. And now, with this… it just makes me realize how much I want to be there for you. For us." His words hang in the air, their weight settling into the pit of your stomach alongside the anxiety. 
"You really mean that?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly as tears begin to run down your cheeks.
"I do," he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with a determination that leaves no room for doubt. 
"No matter what happens—whether the test is positive or negative—I’m in this for the long run. You’re not just someone I’ve been seeing; you’re someone I care about deeply. We’ll figure this out together, okay?"
The timer on your phone buzzes, signalling that the test is ready. Your heart races, but Taehyung’s grip on your hand tightens, grounding you in the moment.
"Whatever that test says," he whispers, his voice calm and soothing, 
"We’re going to be okay. We’ll face it together." He nodded at you.  Taking a deep breath, you both lean forward to look at the result. As your eyes scan the test, your emotions swell, but before anything else, you feel Taehyung’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.
"We’ll be okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere." He promised you as you nodded. His words fill you with a sense of security you hadn’t realized you needed, a promise that no matter what the future holds, you won’t face it alone. 
JUNGKOOK:
As soon as the words "I'm Pregnant" left your lips it had left Jungkook in a state of shock. You almost worried he'd had a heart attack and you weren't sure what you were meant to be doing.
"Jungkook?" You touched his hand softly and he looked down at your hands that were intertwined together. This whole thing had never meant to end this way and yet here you were. One drunken night, one broken condom later and Jungkook felt his whole world changing. Jungkook’s heart races as the words hit him again and again, he slowly looks up at you. 
"Pregnant?" he whispers, almost to himself. His expression shifts from shock to anxiety, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The two of you agreed that this was meant to be something that was only stress relief. Friends with benefits. That was it. 
"This wasn’t supposed to happen… I didn’t mean for this to get so complicated." He looks at you with conflicted eyes, struggling between his feelings for you and the fear of what this means for both of your futures. 
"What do we do now?" He took your hand in his and squeezed softly, while it might not be what he had planned for you there was no way he was going to let you go through any of this alone. It was the two of you that had created the baby and it was going to be the two of you raising them.
"I wanted to talk to you first, and see what you thought I-I should do." your voice shook a little and he smiled weakly, while it might not have been the best scenario he was happy he was going to be a father.
"Well, we get you booked in with a doctor, we get you all the medications you're gonna need and then we go to every single scan together. Do you wanna know the gender? Do you wanna have a baby shower-" Your hand slowly covered his mouth as you let out a small giggle.
"You want to go through with it then?" You asked him before he nodded behind your hand, a giant smile taking over his face.
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283 notes · View notes
chelseeebe · 2 days
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wanna be yours
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18+. smut. voyeurism ig? eddie, steve and reader are all freaky little fucks;) steddie x reader.
this is just something short and sweet to ease myself back into posting lol. idk if anyone read my post, but i will be going ahead with my plans for a spooky week on my blog!! i'm super excited about it!!!! i need to organise everything but when everything is finalised, i'll update you all :)⋅
───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───
eddie had known he and steve were never going to be the best of friends, that was clear from the moment he’d moved in. 
donning a basketball and a polo shirt rather than a bass guitar and an amp. 
when his girlfriend had started coming around, he didn’t think she liked him much either. 
there wasn’t a day where you weren’t arguing or bickering over something stupid.  
eddie just kept his head down, sliding his headphones over his ears instead of listening to the yelling. 
he did that a lot while you were around, keeping his head low so as to not make it completely obvious that he had a serious boner for you. 
he doesn’t think that steve was the type to take lightly to something like that, more likely to beat his ass than to fist bump over your appearance. 
well. 
maybe you’d caught him looking a few times. gormless in staring at your tight jeans or the tiny skirts you went out in. but that was all. 
you’d usually smile a little, maybe even twirl to give him a better view and then flounce out of the door on steve’s arm. 
but now, his eyes stay clamped shut. 
he’s not stupid. 
the blanket rustles in a certain way when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be. 
contrary to popular belief, eddie had had sex before. he knew about the little sighs and muffled grunts, that’s why he could tell instantly what was happening five feet away from his bed. 
you whisper something to steve, too mumbled for eddie to really make it out. 
“nah.. he’s asleep,” steve reassures, louder than you had been. 
he wasn’t. but he doesn’t want to look now, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and attempting to control his rapid breathing. 
the mattress creaks as steve pulls your body closer, his chest pressed against your back as his hand fusses with your tiny pajama shorts. 
you exhale softly, signaling that this was no longer just a raunchy make out session and instead a manifestation of both his biggest dream and worst nightmare. 
there’s not much you can do on a university of chicago single bed. but you were sure giving it a try. 
“shit,” your voice shudders, now accompanied by the unmistakable sound of skin against skin.
eddie doesn’t mean to, honest. 
but his eyes flicker, forcing themselves open to witness the x-rated scene in front of him. he can’t help it, his mind going positively crazy trying to picture what was happening. 
he just needed a reference image, something to help him fall asleep. 
you’re already looking back, eyelids flitting shut with every stroke of steve’s cock, your mouth hung open with wetted lips. 
he can’t pull his eyes away. not with your gaze solidly meeting his, not when you were already looking at him. 
your lips quirk into a smile, throwing your head back against steve’s shoulder but your eyes steady on him. 
the blanket bobs up and down, consistent with the rhythm of the old squeaking mattress and steve’s low grunts. his face buried into the back of your neck, acting as a muzzle. 
his hand snakes around your body, fist wrapping around your exposed neck. 
eddie almost chokes on his breath, his fingers curling around his blanket. his cock was throbbing at this point, aching in his tight boxers. 
fuuuck. 
how is he even in this situation? he should be out partying or pulling an all-nighter in the library or maybe even meeting his very own girlfriend. 
no. 
he’s laid up watching his roommate fuck his girlfriend instead. 
your eyes glitter in the low light, just before you pull out the big guns. 
“oh fuuck steve,” breathlessly whining into the room, zero regard to the volume of your mewls. 
steve hums, the hand that enveloped your neck now sliding down slowly to your tits, grabbing hungrily at the flesh. 
eddie’s own hand palms at his skin, pawing pathetically at his thigh in a bid to divert some of the blood rushing to his dick, elsewhere. 
steve’s pace fastens, his own moans getting louder, deeper even. his mouth sucking at the taut skin of your neck. 
you weren’t trying to hide it anymore, blinking slowly as steve pounds into you. the headboard now joining in on the chorus of sounds, repetitive and loud in the otherwise quiet room. 
eddie’s cock twitches, forcing a strangled huff from his throat. he needed to touch you, badly. fingernails leaving half-moon markings in his thigh, counteracting the gnawing ache settling in his cock. 
what steve does next very nearly sends eddie to fucking mars. 
his hand leaves your chest, sliding back up your neck, his middle and fore finger circle your glossy lips before sliding slowly into your mouth. 
holy fucking shit. 
“just like that, honey,” steve coos, his lips cock to the side.
he’s known this entire time.
eyes peering out from over your neck, watching eddie watch you and your performance. 
eddie’s eyes flicker between the two of you, unsure of where to settle. 
this all felt so strangely intimate, like he should get up and go join the two of you. he would, of course, if that were even an option. 
to steve, this was probably some weird power play. a real, dirty kink, maybe. he’d hold this over eddie for the rest of the year, goading and taunting him about the time he watched him fuck his girlfriend. 
but you, he can’t figure out. 
you were looking at him first. 
that had to mean something. 
you draw him out of his thoughts with a thick, raspy moan, stifled by steve’s fingers still between your lips. 
“c’mon baby,” steve groans, averting his eyes back to you, “you gonna cum? give it to me princess,” his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he obviously nears his own orgasm. 
your eyes close fully now, leaving eddie to watch on his own. squeaking out intoxicating mewls with every stroke, every slap of skin. 
your body goes limp in steve’s hold, “ohh shit- don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop,” desperate pleas turning to whimpers as steve comes to his own climax. 
throaty gasps for air mix with your whining words, frazzling eddie’s poor, hopeless brain for the rest of his inadequate life.  
his dick hurts, straining in his hole-y boxers, begging to be touched. he’ll have to tiptoe out to the bathroom once he’s sure you’re asleep. not that it even matters now. 
eddie can’t help but let his mind wander, had he cum in you? was it dripping out of your pussy?
he’s disgusted with himself for even going there. 
steve sighs, placing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck, glancing at eddie one last time before embracing sleep and letting his eyes flutter shut. 
it takes longer for you to come back down to earth, still reeling from your orgasm when your hazy gaze meets his again. 
there’s something different about your eyes, something that was missing from steve’s. the warmness, the friendly crinkle that sat on the corner. he’s not sure but it makes his heart thud even faster. 
you blink a couple times before turning over and nestling into steve’s chest. 
eddie’s left reeling. 
a churning in his stomach that he’s not sure he’ll ever be rid of.  
he waits until your breathing slows completely and steve starts snoring before padding out of the room, an obvious tent in his boxers and a dying urge to make it disappear. 
life wouldn’t ever be the same again. 
290 notes · View notes
heich0e · 11 hours
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unckuna 🥹
Sukuna is heavy.
It's a nice weight, you think. Blanketing and comfortable as he bears down on top of you. The weight makes sense; he's firm and sturdy and broad through his shoulders, tapering down into a trim waist that you can't think about for too long or it makes your head spin.
He's warm too.
There's a heat that seems to perpetually radiate from him, regardless of the climate, against all odds. It's just as soothing as his weight to seek out and leech from him—particularly when the two of you are out in the cold, inching closer to him on the sidewalk just to fight the frigid breeze or twining your fingers through his own to keep your fingertips from pricking with the chill. His hands are one of your favourite parts of him, usually.
But not at the present moment.
"Sukuna—" the warning is lost to his esurient mouth, mumbled into soft lips and swallowed down before it can elicit any actual response. Sukuna has you pinned down on the sofa, underneath his warmth and weight, and those hands you usually like so much are creeping dangerously up, up, up under the hem of your t-shirt—even in spite of your repeated insistence that this wasn't allowed to proceed any further.
His breath huffs against your slick lips, a laugh you think, and that familiar heat of his hands slithers back down towards your waist like it has every other time you've cautioned him.
"Stop bein' a tease," he mutters, slipping one hand underneath your back and pulling up so your spine arches and presses the two of you even closer together in that impossibly narrow space you occupy on the sofa.
Your breath hitches as your hips grind against his, and the look on Sukuna's face is deeply pleased by the sound. You huff a little. "I'm not teasing."
"Yeah fuckin' ri—"
"Yuuji's only down the hall," you don't even let him finish his snark, chastising him firmly.
"He's asleep," the man above you tries to reason, dipping down to nip at your pulse. Sukuna's nephew had only fallen asleep a short while prior, and as sweet a little boy as he may be, you were all too conscious of his bloodline—you didn't trust Yuuji to stay asleep any more than you trusted his beloved jichan to keep his hands off you, just because you said so.
Using the hand he still has tucked underneath the small of your back, Sukuna effortlessly tugs you up against him. Everything spins as you're righted, and before you know it you're straddling his lap on the sofa in his older brother's humble apartment, peering down the dimly lit hallway in the direction of Yuuji's bedroom. Sukuna mouths at your chest through the thin material of your shirt, sucking against the visible bud of your nipple. He'd weaselled you out of your bra soon after the two of you started fooling around—what had started off as a bit of innocent heavy petting—slipping it off and tossing it somewhere in the living room, and you've lost track of it now that things had kept spiralling out of your control.
You should have known this was how things were bound to turn out when Sukuna had asked if you'd accompany him to babysit his nephew that night. You had plans to see a movie, maybe grab dinner, and then almost assuredly end up bent over some piece of furniture in your/his/a hotel room by the end of the night. That's how things usually go with Sukuna. But then Itadori Jin had called his younger brother only a short while before the two of you were planning to meet, pleading with him to watch Yuuji for the night since he had to stay late at work.
When you first learned Sukuna had a nephew, more by accident than anything, it had surprised you. He didn't strike you as the type to get along with children when he barely gets along with other adults. Then you met Yuuji—even more by accident than simply finding out, happening to cross paths with them one afternoon—and it surprised you even more to see with your own two eyes just how deeply he cares for him. Upon first impression, Sukuna is rough and crass and unsympathetic—and while yes, those things might be true to some degree, the more you've come to learn about him, the more you've come to see other sides of him that you're not sure many (if any) other people have the chance to.
You spent your evening playing games and colouring with Yuuji while Sukuna prepared his dinner (which Jin had left in the fridge, but still, there was a certain level of preparation involved.) The three of you ate together at the kotatsu in the living room, and you laughed every time Sukuna barked at his nephew to stop trying to sneak his vegetables onto your plate. You watched Sukuna and Yuuji roughhouse before collapsing into a pile on the sofa to watch a movie, watched the six year old fall asleep on his uncle's arm, watched said uncle pluck him up (more delicately than you've ever seen Sukuna treat anything) and eventually take him to his room and tuck him into bed.
The Sukuna you thought you met six months ago would have never changed all his plans, with relatively little hesitation or complaint, to babysit a six year old, and he certainly would never have invited you along to accompany him—a bit awkwardly, endearingly clumsy—just so the two of you could still spend time together.
Sukuna pulls away from your chest, a little string of saliva stretching from his mouth to the wet stain he's suckled into the material of your top. He blinks up at you, eyes heavy lidded and gaze hot. You trace your fingers through his unkempt hair, brushing it back from his brow.
"What?" he asks, his tone guarded, as though he's suspicious of how gentle you've suddenly become. "Aren't you gonna tell me to—"
"Hey," you cut him off, your hands settling on his shoulders. He pauses, his lips still parted in speech though the words have stopped. "Kiss me?"
There's not a moment wasted before he cranes up, obeying your request without any hesitation. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to give you the chance to change your mind. Maybe it's because he can't say no to you. Maybe it's because he wants it just as bad as you do.
This time you don't stop Sukuna when his hands slip up your top. Don't stop him when he takes it off all together, either. He's not as talkative as he usually is, having grown used to the way he likes to mouth off when the two of you are intimate like this. He's as conscious as you are of his nephew sleeping only a few rooms away. He's careful with you, not unlike how like he was with Yuuji, in his own particular way.
You don't plan to stop him at all, anymore. Your resolve to deny him (and yourself) having melted under a strange warmth you feel kindling in your chest. You're happy to let him—the Sukuna you think you might be the only one who knows—have you.
Or, you would be, if not for the unexpected return of his older brother, who flicks on the light in the living room with absolutely no idea what he's about to expose.
Thankfully you've learned from experience that first impressions aren't so important after all.
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Victoria gives me absurd powerbottom vibes tbh… making you kneel before her and lick at her pretty cunt before she decides when she’s done 😁😁
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abso-fuckin-lutely
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it's her favourite, really. her favourite spare time activity, her stress reliever — and she's got a lot of that. who needs coffee when you're here to make sure she has the best morning possible? so eager, too.
she once made you eat her out during dinner, and the taste of sautéed eggplant on her tongue mixed with the feeling of yours between her legs was absolutely delectable (you made her spill her wine on the brand new white tablecloth and got dicked down for it right on the table, too).
so, safe to say she gets slightly greedy about it.
thing is, she doesn’t like it when your mouth and her pussy part. it’s a union that, in her eyes, should be unbreakable. so no sticking your tongue out to flick at her clit, no irregular flat licks you try to sneak a teasing word in between. none of that. she needs you to commit to it, to devour her.
she wants to feel all of it — lips, teeth, tongue, so you better work it till your jaw is so sore you can’t even thank her properly when her slick gushes down your chin.
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“that’s it, sweet thing. just like that,” victoria murmurs as she watches you wrap your mouth around her cunt.
“s’pretty, vic,” you murmur, voice hoarse. “such a pretty pussy. you’re so—“
she doesn’t let you finish. a high-heeled foot pushes at the back of your head, guiding you right where she wants you.
"shh. less talking, more licking," comes the command she's so used to giving, her voice as sharp as the heel digging into your spine. "i didn't bring you here to blab. work it.”
you start slow, just as she likes it, your tongue tracing the length of her, from her entrance to her clit. you feel her shiver, her breath hitching slightly. encouraged, you continue, applying more pressure, more urgency.
"fuck," she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed as she lets out a soft moan. "pull away again and i'm tying you down and riding your face till you choke. don't fucking test me."
a very, very tempting punishment — but you don't exactly plan on disobeying.
you can't. not when she tastes so good, not when she feels so right.
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working under her for the fbsa is a whole new experience — completely and utterly unproductive for instance.
it’s also the reason victoria opts for pencil skirts instead of her beloved pantsuits these days.
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the only sounds interrupting the silence in her office are the gentle taps of her fingers against the screen and the wet softness of your plush mouth working for your ‘employee of the month’ title.
“hm,” victoria frowns at the numbers on her tablet, lifting it closer to her face. “now this can’t be right.”
she leans forward in her chair to get a better look, her free hand sliding under her desk, fingers wrapping in your hair to tug you off her – a string of saliva and juices connects your bottom lip to her leaking cunt. she doesn’t bother to admire the view — she has much more important matters to attend to.
you watch her brown eyes flicker through the report, a frown on her burgundy lips – something you'll have to work harder to get rid of. her hand still in your hair, manicured nails scratching at your scalp softly, victoria rechecks the numbers once more before scoffing.
“of course. i knew i couldn’t trust them with the percentage counting. honestly—“
her hand pushes at the back of your head firmly, and you hungrily slurp at the juices that have trickled between her puffy folds in the few moments you were separated from her warmth.
“—does anybody in this building know how to do their fucking job?”
you make a sound that sounds painfully reminiscent of a broken whimper, and victoria huffs out a laugh through her nostrils. brushes her hand up your scalp to move some stray strands from your face.
"no-no. it’s never you," she says, her voice a gentle purr as she strokes your hair. "you're doing just fine. it's everyone else who's the problem."
she leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving the tablet as she continues to scroll through the numbers.
"i swear, if i have to redo the whole thing myself," she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. "it's like they're all just waiting for me to bail them out."
she looks down at you, smiling softly, "but you're not like that, are you?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "you're my good girl. my little problem-solver."
you moan in response, the vibrations sending a shiver through her. she bites her lip, her grip on your hair tightening.
"gonna make my day so much better, aren't you?"
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victoria is very much aware the degree of your obedience varies from day to day, so you bet your pretty ass she's investing in a collar. no pet play— vicky isn’t into that, so don’t expect her name and phone number engraved on it, but it is a rather fancy thing nonetheless. the dark leather feels genuine and it smells exactly the way the inside of her mercedes does.
the leash attached to the collar gives victoria all the reign she could possibly have. at this point she doesn’t even let you breathe. you pull away? bad idea. she tugs you right back in, the slobbering mess of your face on her perfect puffy cunt the only view she’ll be having.
she might even give an idle tug or two just to hear you groan into her wetness, tongue-tied deep inside of her, and the pleasure from the vibration has her head tilting back, her thick painted lips parting with a soft sigh.
and when she cums — you don’t even want to pull away at that point, so pussy drunk she has to forcefully tear you away, lips swollen and eyes glossed over.
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velnna · 2 days
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I know you generally work fast but I'm curious on how long on average it takes for you to get out a page of ThUG? I haven't had the opportunity to read it yet (it looks SO good) but I'm making the assumption a page is the size of an average print comic style versus webtoon scroll episode length format. Also curious on what short cuts you might take to get them out faster/more efficiently. I'm currently planning a comic in a similar format and am trying to plan my process ahead.
Thank you!
I don't do whole pages in one go (I do all the thumbnails then all the lineart then all the colour) so it's hard to tell exactly how long but maybe around 3-6h per page? Which makes a chapter (25-30 ish pages) take around 150 ish hours. I definitely prefer this to the webtoon format for a number of reasons, one of which being the satisfaction you get seeing a bunch of panels come together versus having to scroll through them separately.
In terms of speed, my entire process is pretty optimised for it, both in comics and outside. I stick to an A5 format and downsize it further (I tend to work with pages at 1000px width and 300dpi) to keep myself from overworking details. If an eye closeup feels tiring to get right or loses proportion, my resolution is too high
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I also use textured brushes and leave the lineart more like a clean sketch, which allows me to not only skip straight from thumbnails to it but also to skip work on backgrounds, objects and figures at a certain distance
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The main point of comic work is to convey emotions, movement, etc, not to draw everything accurate all the time, and that's probably the biggest lesson I've learned over the past years. You want your art to evolve in a way that means even without a lot of shading/linework/detail the scene gets properly conveyed, imo
Aside from that, I skip work on SFX and just. Write the sounds down or sketch motion lines as basic as they get. That's a stylistic choice but it works for me. And I have a workspace + automated actions + keyboard shortcuts that are all sort of optimised to make me move as little as possible between tasks and screens etc
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velocesainz · 23 hours
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Oscar Piastri
friends to lovers(I wanted to ask if you don't mind adding that when they're going to have sex reader is insecure of her body)
Bathrobe: You're literally perfect
Mesh top: Why do you care so much
Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound
Tank top: I can't get enough of you
Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous
Cufflinks: Jealousy
Leg warmer: Degradation
Tie: Choking
Mirror sex
A/n: Thank you for the order! Enjoy!
Friend no more
F1 Masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist
Summary: Oscar and reader are best friends and garner feeling for each other. Reader thinking it’s a lost cause after being accidentally friend-zoned by Oscar tries to move on but Oscar has other plans
Pairing: Oscar piastri x reader
Warnings: smut, slight angst
Order receipt:
Bathrobe: You’re literally perfect
Mesh top: Why do you care so much
Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound
Tank top: I can’t get enough of you
Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous
Cufflink: Jealousy
Leg warmer: Degradation
Tie: Choking
Bucket hat: Mirror sex
Face mask: Insecure reader
Reader pov:
I sat at our apartment waiting for my best friend to arrive so we can get ready to go together to a party that Oscar decided to drag me to
One thing about me is that I care deeply for the people I love and will to anything for them, even it means sacrificing a perfectly good lazy saturday evening that I could've spent watching tv shows and binge eating chips.
I love Oscar, much more than a friend and I have a suspicion that he feels the same judging by the way he cares for and looks at me . His mom herself told me she was sure that he liked me but you never know, I'm waiting for him to make the first move just to be sure
Me and him have been friends ever since we were in diapers. Our parents were best friends and so we followed the same. I followed Oscar around in the gap year I had taken before uni and we grew impossibly closer.
I was still working on my degree in aerodynamics hoping to join Oscar in his ventures in formula 1.
My train of thought was cut off by the doorbell ringing pulling me back into the real world
I quickly opened the door and let Oscar in
"So what are you planning on wearing?" Oscar questioned as he started picking out what he was going to wear
"I don't really know, maybe a pair of jeans and a shirt?" I responded still contemplating outfit choices
"Oh come on that's so boring, let loose, wear some dresses for a change" He told me and took me by surprise
I guess he was right, maybe he was going to confess and that's why he's making me dress nice.
I put on a short satin black dress feeling sort of exposed and insecure and quickly did my make up and curled my hair
"Ok I'm ready to go!" I called out to Oscar
I froze when I saw him, he looked so goddamn hot. He was in a simple pair of blue jeans a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up
I swear I was going to melt right then and there
"Y-you look absolutely gorgeous" He sputtered
"Getting a compliment for you? I must look really hot then huh" I replied sarcastically
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now. Let's get going or we will be late, not that we're not late already"
It was in Oscar's nature to be late to whatever or wherever he goes to do but he's been slowly working on it.
We both sat in his Mclaren and drove to the club where the party was
Upon reaching there we were met with a crowd. I had not met Oscar's friends in formula 1 as of yet so I was nervous as well as excited to meet them today.
Lando approached and brought us in
"So who is this beautiful woman you have with you today Oscar?" Lando questioned
"This is my childhood best friend y/n. We grew up together" Oscar replied breaking my heart
"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend mate?"
"I don't like her like that" With that my heart shattered into tiny pieces. I thought he liked me back.
I guess I was wrong this whole time. I was only his best friend, nothing more.
After we reached the table I quickly made my way away from Oscar to sit at the opposite side
I saw Oscar flirting with a really pretty looking model making me dig an even deeper hole in self hatred and insecurity.
I decided to speak to Lando who seemed interested in me. I mean I had to get over Oscar in one way or another.
As we were talking we slowly started flirting and touching each other softly
Oscar pov:
As soon as we reached the table y/n went and sat at the opposite end of the table which was very odd, she loved sitting next to me.
She was then approached by Lando which made my heart sink. I have liked her for years but I never had the guts to tell her and at this point I don't think she likes me anyways.
Observing th two of them I saw them flirting with each other and lightly touching each other all I could see was red.
I don't know what came over me but I walked over to them and grabbed y/n's hand dragging her out of there
"Hey what gives?" she shouted at me
I ignored her protests and threw her into the car and drive straight to our apartment
As soon as we got home I dragged her inside
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was having a really nice conversation with Lando until you rudely came and interrupted us" she exclaimed
"You both were getting too flirty and close to him. If I hadn't stopped it you would've ended up in his bed" I tried to explain
"So what Oscar? Why do you care so much?" she snarled out
"I care because you're my best friend and i don't want to see you getting hurt" I replied
"It was literally as if you were jealous of me and Lando being close" she said
Hearing Lando's name made me clench my fists.
"Jealous? So what if I am jealous" I replied my eyes getting darker
"W-what-" I cut her off with a passionate kiss
She broke the kiss quickly
"I'm just your best friend Oscar, go back to those hot models. I'm not as pretty and hot as they are"
This made me angry. How could she think of herself like that? To me and a lot of other guys she was the most beautiful woman ever.
"You’re literally perfect darling. I'll show you just how pretty you are darling" I whispered huskily into her ear and dragged her to my room while kissing her.
Reader pov:
Oscar took us to his bedroom and pushed me onto the plush bed
He took off my clothes one by one admiring my body but being the insecure person I am I tried covering myself
“Don’t do that. You’re literally perfect. Stop shying away and hiding from me” he told me and placed me in such a way that I could see myself in the mirror
“Watch yourself while I fuck you bitch. See how pretty of a slut you look for me”
With that he lined himself up and thrusted into me bottoming out immediately
I let out the loudest moan I ever had and as he continued to thrust into me I moaned non stop he felt so good
“Mhph your moans are my favourite sound. Keep moaning whore”
He then switched positions from doggy to missionary and thrusted into me again
He put his hands around my throat lightly choking me causing me to let out a moan
“Oh you like that little slut? You like when I choke you like that?” He asked
All I could do was nod in response
We both were approaching our highs and his thrusts turned sloppy
“Where do you want me whore”
“In my mouth please” I pleaded
He pulled and pumped himself to the edge while circling my clit which also brought me to the edge
Thick strings of hot cum entered my mouth and I swallowed it completely savouring the taste
“You’re so perfect for me baby. Never leave me” with that he hugged me and we both fell into a deep slumber
A/n: hello lovelies hope you guys liked this, it’s kind of a long one. As always make sure to send any feedback. Kissies ✨
Taglist:
@grantaires-waistcoat
@tellybearryyyy
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I made a spreadsheet listing all the keywords Dan and Phil have used for their DAPG videos on YouTube since October! Yay!
I have a few things to say that are interesting even for all non-data-obsessed people here, so you might want to stick around to read this first part:
THEY TAGGED PHAN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THREE OF THEIR RECENT VIDEOS!!!
The first one was the tatinof reaction. I haven't checked any pre-hiatus videos and only a very select few from their solo channels, so I can't say for sure but there is a pretty good chance that this was the first time they've ever done that.
The other two videos they've tagged with phan are the phanfic video and the latest phan twitter reaction video. for the latter dan also tagged phan here on tumblr.
(sidenote: the one phil tagged as phan here (dress to impress irl) is not tagged phan on youtube)
some more interesting things + infos about the spreadsheet under the cut!
All of the videos they've tagged with phan so far had phan either in the title or in tatinof's case in one of the original thumbnails:
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Phan aside, they seem to have a few standard tags that they use for many videos, always in the same order:
dan and phil, dan and phil games, danisnotonfire, amazingphil, phil lester, dan howell, gaming channel, games, daniel howell, play
However, sometimes they don't use these and I can't see a pattern to when they do and don't use them, if you do please let me know!
Now, some notes on the spreadsheet:
I am planning on keeping this up to date.
This is not directly about the spreadsheet but I'm just assuming everyone know what keywords are and how you can see them, if that's not the case, just send me an ask.
So far I haven't done much with the data (I only colour coded phan lmao) and I personally don't want to do much more with it. However! If you want to analyse it, make graphs or anything, feel free, go wild! (if copying/extracting the data doesn't work feel free to dm me about it)
You guys are able to leave comments! You can debate things there, point out funny tags, leave suggestions on how to format things differently...Just be aware that this makes your gmail address visible for anyone else who has access to the doc!
okay, that's it from me now, have fun looking through this!
(a lot of it is quite boring but there are some gems in there)
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fairsweetlonging · 11 hours
Text
truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.
during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.
he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.
the peak lords think he's cursed.
maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.
it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.
maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.
of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.
this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!
even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.
they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!
maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.
luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.
for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.
shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.
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hwaslayer · 1 day
Text
wildfire (cs) | three.
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—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut
—word count: 4.8k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, general bioengineering project descriptions/terms, very vague mention of mice research work, mentions of a lil cut (nothing graphic), a lil more oc x san!!, oc x san being subtle with their actions - they're def feeling each other/checking each other out tho lol, suave sexy san!!, jongho is onto him oop 🤨, it builds up from here i prawwwmise!
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When Sunwoo said he needed help, he truly meant it. A few weeks into the new quarter, you find yourself hustling in the lab in between your class schedule. You do enjoy it though, and you find that you still have time to carve out for your friends and nights out. But, you do feel your workload slowly increasing just because Sunwoo is trying to make significant progress with his project— a project that you hope to build off if you were to fully join Professor Choi's lab. A project that would hopefully get your name on another published paper, too. And, you weren't gonna lie, you wanted to do your best and work extra hard because you needed Professor Choi to see that you fit perfectly in his lab. You needed to show him that this wasn't any ordinary research work to you and that you weren't just winging your time here, especially after he gave you that friendly but stern pep talk during your kick-off meeting with him, Belle and Sunwoo.
—FLASHBACK
"Hey." Professor Choi says while sitting in his chair. The three of you walk in, with Sunwoo plopping himself down on his couch, and you and Belle sitting at the two seats in front of his desk. "How's everyone doing?" He asks while typing away, huge Mac screen taking up the corner of his desk with his laptop connected on a laptop stand.
"Good!" You all say in your own ways.
"How about you, Professor Choi?" Sunwoo leans back onto the couch.
"Mm." He hums. "Good as can be, I guess. Can't complain." He chuckles, now fully shifting his attention to you three. "So! How'd the talk go?"
"Well, I think Y/N would work well with my project. There's so many avenues she could piggyback off of if she joins the lab afterwards that'll help contribute to a lot of the dynamic foraging, brain-wide neural dynamics work we've been doing." You watch as Professor Choi nods in agreement, now looking at you and Belle.
"She could also help with the lab-wide project I've been heading and some other 2-photon and KCR work." 
"Sounds good with me. What about you, Y/N?" He leans onto his desk, eyes glued on you while his hands are clasped together. You lick your lips and nod, nervous that all the attention is on you especially from Professor Choi. You feel like he's burning holes into you, and you can't help but feel incredibly intimidated. 
"Yeah, that sounds awesome. I'm on board with Sunwoo and Belle's plans. I'm excited to dive in." He smiles at you.
"Cool. I think we'll get some great work done during your rotation." He turns to Sunwoo. "Sunwoo, can I trust you to take care of Y/N's badge access and getting her set up with everything she needs?"
"For sure!"
"Thanks." Professor Choi stands. "And just cause I have to lay this out there, there are some expectations I hold for the people in my lab— regardless if you're a rotation student, postdoc, undergrad, staff. It doesn't matter. I expect the highest performance out of everybody, and I want my people to succeed no matter how long it takes. I expect my people to do nothing but the best and I need that to show in everything you do. Presentations. Data. Papers. Everything. I don't want anyone to settle for less than that, and you have my support every step of the way."
"Of course, noted."
"We have lab meetings every Monday at 9am up on the third floor of the south wing. I'll get you on the schedule so you can do your rotation update towards the end of the quarter."
"Journal club!" Sunwoo says, making Professor Choi laugh. "One of us!"
"Yeah, we'll get you to do a journal club presentation too." He tucks his hands in his pockets.
"Professor Choi gets us free hot breakfast for lab meetings." Belle puts her hand on your arm as you all stand and start to get ready to leave. "It's so good." You giggle.
"So, all good? We're all onboard?" You three turn to Professor Choi and nod. "Nice. Welcome to the lab, Y/N." He flashes you a smile that only you catch, a look that only you see. Like it was meant to be that way.
Your time in Professor Choi's lab will be an interesting one.
—END
"Hey." You pull out a seat and plop onto the chair, sipping on the drink you just ordered.
"Hey pretty!" Eunchae giggles, while Felix, Jiung and Jurin wave.
"Where have you been?" Felix asks, poking at your bicep.
"Shuffling between class and lab." You let out a breath, bottom lip poking out into a pout.
"She's rotating in Professor Choi's lab." Jiung looks at Jurin.
"San?" You nod. "Damn, goodluck!" Jurin chimes in and you shake your head. "He's a hottie."
"Here we go." Felix snorts.
"I mean, are we wrong?" She looks at him and playfully nudges his side, causing him to groan in response. 
"I never said you were wrong!" Eunchae giggles at his pained response. "That's just the hot topic on campus. Him and his friends."
"So hot. They deserve to be the talk on campus." Eunchae rests her chin on the palm of her hand. "How has it been in his lab?"
"It's been good! Just really fucking busy. Sunwoo is like.. at the peak of his project. He'll probably try to submit his paper within the year or something if all goes well."
"Fun times." Jiung looks at you while sipping on his smoothie. "You going back to lab after?"
"Yup!"
"I gotta head back, too." Felix says. 
"Same. I gotta run my gels." Eunchae adds.
"What about you?"
"Not today." Jiung responds. "I have a paper I need to start already for one of my classes. I've just been trying to troubleshoot some of the lasers in the lab for the other Professor Choi so I'm not entirely busy yet." You nod, checking your apple watch to peep the time. "Are you guys gonna be able to catch dinner later?"
"I should be."
"Yeah, same."
"Mm. I dunno." You tilt your head. "You can probably go without me and I'll catch up if I can."
"Sheesh, really putting you to work already."
"Yup." You sigh, finishing up your drink and your snack box full of cheese, grapes and crackers. "Anyway, I gotta get going. I told Sunwoo I'd try and fix our behavior rig today so we can start utilizing it soon."
"Text us if you'll be able to join dinner and we'll wait!" Jurin yells before you wave them off and start making your way back to the Harvey Center to finish up your tasks in lab. Part of you really wanted to stay with your friends and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, but you had promised Sunwoo you'd take the time to fix the behavior rig he had been working on for the past month. He just hasn't had the bandwidth to focus on it lately, so having you is tremendous help for him. 
When you get to the lab, there's still quite a few people lingering around in the office area in the basement, surprisingly. You pop over to their desks for small talk, getting to know the people in the lab and the projects they're working on. Most are situated at their desks, analyzing their data and coding between two monitor screens. Everyone's equally nice and passionate about what they do, it makes the environment less stressful knowing it's collaborative and engaging instead of being in a competitive nature. Belle pulls you aside to get your help just as Sunwoo is packing up for the day and thanking you for your help with the behavior rig. She takes about an hour or so of your time, giving you a quick rundown of the procedures she's working on and what you could help with in the next few weeks. It's after your time with Belle that you finally get to sit down at your desk and focus on the rig sitting on top of it. You don't think it'll take much time, and you feel like you'll actually be able to catch dinner with your friends.
Until you realize how difficult it is get everything situated on the breadboard properly. 
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San hums as he walks through the cold air, pacing towards the Harvey Center to get to his office. He's just had a good workout at the faculty lounge, and he doesn't expect too many people [if any] to be lingering around in the open office space of the lab. He knows people are cooped up in their own laser or behavior rooms right now, and it's not even the first time he'll be strolling in casual clothes. He tries to keep himself clean and pressed down, but he too, has his days where he just wants to head to work in some jeans. A tshirt. Hoodie.
Right now, the cold is pricking his skin because he's in a black Nike dry fit shirt and sweats. He's running to the office to finish up a few last minute things before heading home and relaxing. As expected, the hallway feels eerily quiet. He assumes there could be one or two people locked away in the rooms, but he won't bother. When he gets into the office space, he doesn't see anyone in particular until he turns the corner towards his office and finds you sitting at your desk in the corner. The computer screen is pretty bright, and you've got your hands tied with a rig. 
He definitely wasn't expecting you to be here.
"Fuuuck." He hears you slightly whine when the small allen wrench in your hand slips and tumbles to the floor, followed by a few screws sitting on your desk.
"Hey Y/N, you okay?" San asks, dropping his duffle bag right in front of his office door before slowly walking over to you. You look up in surprise, eyes quickly scanning Professor Choi in his casual outfit. You're stunned at how good he looks in something so simple, how big and defined his arms are in that tight shirt; he looks so good you almost forget to respond.
He sure as hell catches on though, a tiny smirk growing at the corner of his lips.
"Oh, yeah. I'm trying to unscrew this but Sunwoo's got it in there tightly. I'm afraid I'm weak." He laughs and shakes his head.
"Nah. You're not weak." He picks up the allen wrench from the floor. "Which one?"
"This." You point. "And this too, while you're at it." He chuckles.
"You got it, boss." San angles himself closer to you, face only inches away from yours when he dips to get a better look. You watch as his arm muscles flex when he gets the wrench in there and starts undoing the screw, loosening it in a matter of seconds. "I'll let you do the rest." He moves onto the next and loosens it shortly after. When he finishes, his face is only inches away from yours and he keeps a hold there. He's looking at you again, really looking at you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You're not sure what else to do besides nibble on your bottom lip.
"Thank you." You manage to choke out. He gives you a soft smile before handing you the allen wrench and standing fully upright.
"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" 
"Um, no. I didn't." San looks at your hand a little further and notices the fresh scratch near your pinky— probably due to your hand slipping from the force, scratching it against one of the mounts sitting on the board. 
"I didn't expect you to lie to me so quickly." He teases, slight whine in his tone while he clicks his teeth. "Can I see?" You show him your hand. "Come to my office, got some ointment for it." He nods towards his door and leads the way. San could damn well show you to the lab's first aid kit down the hall, but his office is much closer and he'd feel a bit better than just sending you off to fend for yourself. 
"Professor Choi, I can just find the—" Before you can finish your sentence, he's already swinging his door open and holding it open for you.
"It's much quicker than heading down the hall to the first aid kit." He laughs a bit. You give him a tiny smile as you brush past and walk into his office, feeling a bit awkward being in his private space for something as little as a cut. You fiddle with your fingers as he places his duffle bag down onto the couch before grabbing the first aid kit in one of the drawers near his desk. He grabs a small pack of ointment and a bandaid, approaching you in the middle of the room. "Mind if I..?"
"Not at all." You leave out your hand for Professor Choi to take and he gently tugs it closer. He applies the ointment on your scab, dabbing it lightly across the surface before grabbing the bandaid and placing it on top. 
"There."
"Thank you, Professor Choi."
"You're welcome. Be careful next time. Make sure Sunwoo does the heavy lifting."
"I know. He's good help. I just figured I'd help him get a head start." San gives you a small smile. "Mind if I ask? What're you doing here later in the evening?"
"Sometimes, I just stay to get my work done. Can't always rely on my home office to keep me productive." He chuckles. "Plus, I get my workouts in at the faculty lounge." You nod.
"I see."
"How long have you been in the lab today?"
"I've been in and out in between classes."
"You haven't eaten dinner?"
"Nope. Dining hall doesn't close until 9pm, though." San looks at the time on his computer.
"Which is getting pretty close. You should wrap it up." You look at him with a small pout and it feels too difficult having to keep his composure while you keep looking at him like that. His eyes quickly dip to the low cut shirt you're wearing before he manages to divert his attention back up to your eyes. The tension is palpable, but you don't say anything. Even if you caught it, even if you wanna tease him a little. You try to stick to your own lane in case all of this is pure delusion. 
You're so fucking pretty, though. It's bad for San. 
Unhealthy.
"I mean, don't get me wrong. It's nice knowing you're working hard in the lab." He follows up with a laugh. "But, you should also get some time in for yourself. Rest and eat well. You can always come back to the work tomorrow."
"What if I fall behind?"
"There's no such thing on falling behind if you're constantly working on so many different aspects, Y/N. Plus, it's not gonna be perfect. You'll have days that're slow, that'll feel like you aren't getting much out of your project. But, I promise it picks up again and things will come out of it regardless."
"Noted." You smile at him. "I appreciate that."
"How about I finish up in there and we head out together? I'd really hate to leave you here in the office alone, especially if I don't have to." You look at him and even though everything inside of you is fighting, pleading, to say no, you end up with—
"Okay." You softly respond. "I'm gonna go clean up."
"Sounds good. I'll be out in a minute." He gives you that look again and you hate that you don't know if he looks at everyone else like this or just you. You eye him once more even as he's turned towards his desk checking his phone before you head out of his office and to your desk. You did make good progress on the rig, which you know Sunwoo would be grateful about. The only thing he needs to do is add the part he created the other day, a tube where the mouse would be situated for lick behavior tests.
Meanwhile, San plops onto his computer chair and pulls up his emails, looping in the appropriate people to help fix certain issues. He's got a few emails regarding just-in-time information needed for the grants he's been re-applying for, making a mental note to hop on a quick meeting with the people involved so they can get their reports and data together and send it off in a timely manner.
It never ends, he thinks. 
All is his life consists of now is work. The lab. Collaborating in various projects across departments. Working out. Sometimes, San wishes there was something else he could look forward to. Something else that could take time out of his day, something that he could put his attention to. Something like—
jongho: still on campus?
He turns to his phone when the text tone goes off, seeing the message from Jongho. San quickly checks the time and finishes up the last email he was working on before he got distracted.
san: yeah, gonna head out tho. just working on some last min urgent emails that came in.
jongho: wanna grab something to eat? i'll meet you at your car
san: alright, give me like 10 mins. 
San sends off his last few emails before checking his calendar for tomorrow's meetings. He has a virtual talk after class that he needs to prep for, which he'll do later tonight. Plus, he'll need to gather that information for the grants. Just thinking about it makes San breathe out a heavy sigh, slightly feeling overwhelmed at his never-ending to-do list.
Yeah, a new hobby or distraction would be nice.
"Ready?" You turn to see Professor Choi locking up his office, duffle bag slung on his shoulder. When he's done, he turns and gives you a small smile; patiently waiting for you to be ready. You nod, locking your computer and grabbing your things before walking out behind him.
"So, do you always work out in the evenings?"
"I try to, yeah." You look up at him while he walks alongside of you. "Helps me release steam from all the stuff going on."
"I can only imagine." You tug on your bag strap. "I don't know how you do it with your busy schedule."
"I'm not too busy." He says in a playful tone. "Just enough."
"Sure." You laugh. "Everyone knows how busy and occupied you are, Professor Choi."
"What if everyone just hypes me up too much and has the wrong idea about me?"
"I doubt that."
"How would you know, hm?" He smiles when he presses the elevator door. 
"Oh, please. I never not see you in a meeting or talking to someone, or doing a talk somewhere." You slip into the elevator with him. He rests against the rail on the opposite side from where you stand, fully facing you. "You even did that episode not too long ago for Professor Young's podcast."
"Wow, you really keep up, don't you?"
"How could I not?" He chuckles.
"That's nice to know that you do." He means it. As much as he loves when people treat him like a regular person, he also loves it when people keep up with his projects. His papers. His talks. He's not gonna lie; it is an ego boost, and he likes knowing that people take time out of their day because they're interested in hearing what he has to say or what he's working on now.
It's definitely nice coming from you.
You quietly stand off to the side, watching as the elevator takes you from the basement to floor 1 of the building. San is subtly eyeing you from where he stands, noticing how you keep to yourself and shift your weight between your feet in some kind of anxious move to get off of the elevator. You can barely look him in the eye and he thinks it's cute.
"What're your plans after you get dinner, Y/N?" He breaks the silence as you step out of the elevator and out of the building. The night isn't too chilly— the stars are dotting the sky beautifully, crickets are beginning to chirp. There aren't too many people moving across campus anymore, which is the usual at this time. Most are huddled up in lab if they're the working night-owl type, or resting at their dorms or apartments to get ready for the next day.
"Finish my loads of homework and try to hang out with my friends for a bit if we all aren't too tired."
"That's nice, minus the homework part." You giggle.
"What about you? If you don't mind me asking." He smiles.
"I don't. I'm just gonna meet up with the other Professor Choi and grab dinner with him."
"You two are close, yeah?" He nods.
"Yup."
"That's cute." 
"Is it?" He asks in a playful, sing-song way that has you shifting your attention to your feet to bite back a huge smile.
"It is. Very." You finally look up at him and meet his eyes. "By the way, I hope I'm not making you walk extra steps tonight." You point at the dining hall just down the path. "I can take it from here if you need to get to your car or meet him somewhere else."
"It's alright, I parked right over here." He nods towards the parking garage coming up on the left. "Easiest garage to find parking at."
"Works out then." You give him a tiny, toothless smile.
"Your friends are able to join you for dinner, right?"
"Should be. I'll call them in a few." You pause in your steps when the garage is directly to the left now. "Thanks for walking me, Professor Choi."
"You sure you don't need me to walk you towards the end of the path?"
"All good. I'm a big girl." He laughs.
"Yeah." He's doing that thing again. That thing where he just looks at you with a certain glint in his eye— a certain glint that makes you overthink, makes you wonder if he does this with everyone he comes across, or if it's just you. 
"Goodnight, I hope you have a good dinner."
"You too." You give him one last smile and wave before you start walking towards the dining hall, creating more distance between you two. You don't catch the way he continues to watch you until you've managed to cross the street and approach the dining hall— phone pressed against your ear because he assumes you're calling up your friends to meet you.
When he feels comfortable to take his eyes off of you, he crosses the way to the garage and starts walking towards his car that's sitting on the current ground level, Jongho patiently leaning against the tail end of it.
"Uh." Jongho laughs. "The hell was that?"
"What was what?"
"I saw you from here, don't try and be slick on me now." 
"It was nothing?" San pops open his trunk and tosses his duffle bag in.
"Didn't look like it." Jongho snorts.
"Y/N was just in lab and I didn't want her to leave alone."
"Your rotation student?"
"Mhm."
"Okay. I'm all for being a gentleman but be careful." He gives him a look.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I've known you for years, bro. There's a certain look in your eyes and it doesn't exactly scream 'nothing.'" 
"Well, it is." Is all San says. He doesn't really have anything else to say because he doesn't wanna sound like he's defending himself way too much when he doesn't need to. He knows better. Maybe. Hopefully.
"Aye." Jongho shrugs. "Want you to be happy but just keep it safe, yeah? You've worked really hard for everything you have."
"I know." San lets out a breath. "Anyway, where do you wanna go for dinner?"
"Happy hour at the bar nearby? I can be passenger princess, or if you really want, we can drive separately to make it easier. I guess." He playfully huffs, making San chuckle.
"Just get in." 
On the way to the bar, Jongho gives San more details about the collaboration and that the group is incredibly interested in moving forward. San nods, agreeing that it would be good for them and everyone involved both funding-wise and opportunity-wise. Jongho then tells San about his recent grants that were finally accepted and re-awarded, giving him a little more leeway to purchase new equipment he's been having his eyes on for Jiung and a few other of his lab members to toy around with. There's a certain idea that's been floating in his head for awhile now, one that San honestly doesn't understand much about because electrical engineering is a whole other beast to him. He gets the gist, and he knows Jongho has only done incredibly work, continuing to one-up himself every single time he comes back around with a new idea.
"So, there's another thing I've been thinking about." Jongho says, as they finally arrive to the sports bar and follow the host to a table on the back patio. 
"Should I be scared?" San asks as they sit and immediately order their go-to beers and the karaage they love so much. 
"I was thinking of asking the dean for some real estate at the new campus building."
"Bartlett Hall? The one that just finished construction?" Jongho nods.
"Mhmmm." He responds in a sing-song tone. "I briefly mentioned it to him in passing and he told me we'd talk more, but was hoping to get you onboard, too."
"Why me?" San laughs, picking at a piece of karaage with a toothpick before popping it into his mouth. Before San can hear Jongho's reasoning, the server comes back to take their orders. They both order different burgers, planning to exchange a half for the other. 
"Was thinking we could open the joint department together, finally have a space for us to combine our work in electrical engineering and bioengineering." San pokes out his bottom lip and nods.
"Sooo, we'd have to write a whole pitch and sell it to the dean?"
"Yeah basically, but we can run it by Namjoon first and see what he says."
"I'm down. I dunno if the dean will budge without implementing certain requirements from our end, but, I'm down to try."
"Yeah?" Jongho laughs. "Glad to hear you're down. It'll be good! I've been thinking about it for awhile but I was always hesitant. Think it's probably just best to take the leap. Worst thing they can say is no."
"That's true. Yeah, I'm down. It'll be good for the students and the postdocs. They'll have a space for them to collaborate together. Pretty exciting to think about, actually."
"Thought so." Jongho sips his beer. "I'll start working on a proposal and send it to you for edits."
"Sounds good with me."
"How was that meeting with Zara, by the way? I never got around to asking."
"Oh, it was good." He shrugs. "We talked a lot about getting her lab situated and getting on more grants ASAP."
"Sounded like a productive talk. Have you met again afterwards?"
"Yeah, it was." San clears his throat. "We met a few more times just to talk a bit more on some finer details for her lab and plans. Hope it was helpful at least. I turned her to Namjoon most of the time cause who else would know more?" Jongho laughs.
"Yeah."
"She's cool, though. Really sweet." Jongho snorts. "What?"
"I see Mingi's plan isn't really working well." San rolls his eyes, stuffing a few fries into his mouth before taking a bite. 
"Yeah, no. It's not." San shakes his head. "Don't even think about instigating, either."
"It's kinda fun. Plus, she's obviously attracted to you."
"No." San shuts it down.
"Why not? Why don't you just continue seeing where it goes?"
"I am, and I'm still in the same position I was when I first met her."
"Which is?"
"I respect her as a colleague and a colleague only." San glares at him. "I'm not going to force anything that isn't meant to happen." 
"Okay, fine. You're right. I'll get behind that." Jongho dips his last fry into the ketchup before looking back up at his bestfriend. "But at least promise me you won't be entirely closed off to it if it does naturally develop into something?"
"Uh." San pauses. He pauses not because of Zara or whatever Jongho's saying right now; he meant to agree, but he finds his thoughts suddenly roaming to.. you.
His curiosity, the need to learn more about you.
"Hello?"
"Sorry." San shakes the thoughts from his head in case Jongho can hear it or something. "Yeah."
"Definitely not genuine. What's on your mind?"
"Nothing."
"I can hear you thinking."
"Can you? That's an invasion of privacy."
"It's her, isn't it?"
"I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Jongho stares and gives him a certain look, causing San to divert his attention away. Away from him, onto anything, anyone nearby.
"Yeah, okay. That's all I needed to know." Jongho quietly sips on the rest of his beer before pushing his plate aside and sitting back into the seat. "San, make your decisions wisely."
"I already told you it was nothing."
"Okay." Jongho says in defeat, leaving the topic alone. All he wants is for San to be genuinely happy, just like their other friends do. But, he's also hoping San is smart enough to make the right [and wise] decisions.
Not be blinded by anything, causing him to make irrational and impulsive decisions based on his feelings.
"Anyway, are you good to go?" San crumples the napkin and tosses it onto his plate before standing up and grabbing his keys, phone.
"Yeah, I am."
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—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd
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hedwig221b · 15 hours
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Do you by chance have BAMF Stiles recs? I'm reading your stories and all you rec so thank you for being awesome!!
Thank you so much! One wouldn't know by looking at my fics, but I absolutely adore BAMF!Stiles lol. He's a delight!
Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill
"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."
The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW
Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek.
Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.
Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer
After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.
This is Ridiculous by zosofi
There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.
A Tangled Refuge by wanderingeyre
The Hale House has been rebuilt for the past five years and for all five of those years, it’s been a sanctuary for supernaturals that needed a place to stay, a halfway point, a place to recuperate, or a place to be safe from whatever was on their tail. Word traveled quickly in the small world of the supernatural and now they rarely had to seek out people who needed help. Most came to them.
What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt
“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”
Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.
“What?! What was that sound?!”
“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.
“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”
“Mike,” she argued.
“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.
“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.
Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame
Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.
When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.
Dangerous by jjmash
There are a lot of things that the pack doesn’t know about Stiles.
Some of it is little things he simply has no reason to mention, like how he almost failed organic chemistry his first semester at Stanford. Some of it is bigger stuff that he just can’t bring himself to think about, like the nightmares that still plague most of his nights and trap him inside his own mind in increasingly horrific ways.
But most importantly, the pack doesn’t know all the ways in which Stiles has transformed during his time away from them. He doesn’t need fangs and claws to be dangerous.
The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.
Something More Than Human by gatergirl79
Stiles Stilinski has a secret, a huge secret. A secret that will change the way everyone sees him. No, he hasn't been bitten by a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski is the product of a government experiment to create the perfect soldier, a human weapon. As a second generation transgenic, Stiles has been living a normal life with his dad in Beacon Hills, playing the role of klutzy sidekick to his werewolf best friend. All that changes however when Derek saves his life, Stiles finds himself slowly embracing who he really is. - But at what cost?
Red Witch by rootbeer
The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning.
Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.
Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter
A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.
Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack
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weirdducky17 · 2 days
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𖤐 ℜ𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔬𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔩 𖤐
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ
ᴄᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴍʙ ᴀᴜ
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Heya! Hope you enjoy this AU I'm planning! Updates are gonna be slow cause I'm a nursing student so art isn't always gonna be my main focus but I hope you enjoy this!
Things to note about the comic— The first panel was made a while ago compared to the other two! I decided to shift the style of what I wanted to do for what kinda mood I want the comic to have which I decided to go with dramatic lighting ✨
I debated whether or not to redo the first panel to be more like the second and third but settled on keeping it as is to show that i wanted to change it a bit for later! If you notice any missing details, no you saw nothing! 🥲
I'm not used to making comics and my writing style changes from time to time but I hope to practice more with this AU!!
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peppertaemint · 19 hours
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Jikook & "Are You Sure?!" : The Beauty of Mundane
The much-maligned reality-TV format deserves most of the criticism and ire it provokes. Schlocky production values and pre-tense often lead to melodramatic fakery that people want to believe because they're bored. We've all succumbed to it; I've seen more than my fair share of Big Brother seasons. But the thing that reality can do, if it doesn't try too hard, is give us a window to life that sits between documentary and that unscripted faux-world, and I think Are You Sure?! makes a wonderful example.
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The situations are both planned and imposed on this show, from Connecticut to Jeju to Sappparo. Jungkook and Jimin planned the trip along with producers and agreed to film it as content, a loathsome word if there ever was one. What we see is not genuine real-life, despite what Jimin states in Sapporo; it's a mediated view into the pair's life on camera together -- a life they seem to want to share together and with fans.
What makes AYS work so well is their naturalness on camera and together. I'm struck by how comfortable both facets of their lives seem after just over ten years of vlogging together under agency Big Hit.
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We see how much they enjoy existing together, grappling with the highs and lows of the mundanity of travel. I say mundanity specifically because so much of travel is just that -- your life simply transported to a pretty view. It's still full of stomach aches and flus, good and bad food and wide-ranging moods. Seeing Jungkook patiently take care of Jimin, ensuring he took his medicine, and then creating a doltap, the traditional practice of rock stacking to ward off bad luck and bring in good energy, was a healthy glimpse into the everyday of their shared life.
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The most telling part of the show is, rather ironically, the worst part -- the three-episode interlude with their unexpected guest in Jeju, Taehyung. Our duo made no bones about the fact that the guest invited himself to their trip -- their special time -- and took every possible opportunity to remind him of his status as unwanted guest.
The entire vibe of the show changed because of Taehyung's presence, and not just because JiKook were put out by the whole thing. His presence changed their dynamic toward one another as well, seemingly disrupting their status as a duo. It was as though there was a need to cater to the guest, to an extent, and to put aside their interest in one another to a marked degree. That in itself is incredibly telling for their relationship.
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Luckily, the show bookended itself with JiKook solo trips, and it ended in Sapporo where the duo seemed to be most comfortable and in their element, embracing the romance and magic of the snow resort in Japan. This was a welcome contrast to the funny, fish-out-of-water vibe of NY and Connecticut.
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What will stay with me is the joy in the mundanity that the two showed throughout the show, but especially when left alone. The fun of grocery shopping when you're with your person. The enjoyment of playing cards, cooking, or simply going to bed when you're with your person. It's easy to forget there is a team of people watching over them for the majority of the show, filming or simply observing. And I wonder if sometimes Jungkook and Jimin forget, too.
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