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celestialtarot11 · 3 months ago

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Your sexual appeal 18+

Hey friends! Welcome to another PAC. I was feeling generous to do another on top of my busy week :) enjoy! Don’t be afraid to like comment and reblog to share the love! Lol ya’ll are being fed.

Pile 1: Hey pile 1! Kicking off strong, Wild thoughts by Rihanna is playing in my head. So you guys already have such a powerful energy—I feel it does permeate the room that you enter. Instead of everyone else’s energy affecting you, you are the one influencing the energy and it is felt strong! That’s part of your sexual appeal. Your legs can be very sexually appealing, like I’m seeing people would imagine you wearing garters, knee length boots, stockings, ripped tights. Or skirts that show off your legs! Maybe it’s toned and your skin is really smooth, and I heard it gives off an airbrushed appearance so people find that very alluring. I would imagine you guys walk with a powerful stride too, you’re always looking to where you’re going and not necessarily at people which makes them feel intimidated. Definitely not your fault you’re confident! Some of you may also walk delicately and quietly and you may scare people lol. But it’s also part of your allure because you scare people when they least expect it ;) you have them standing on their toes! I feel also you may be surrounded by a lot of people. Everywhere you go, people notice you’re remembered. So that’s hot, seeing other people look up to you and walk up to you shows your confidence! People trust you, right? And I also feel you may be foreign. Your eyes may be different from the rest, your hair color can stand out in a friend group, and your voice as well. Maybe you can speak multiple languages which is sexy to others, they love your cadence and tone. And people may think your cultural background is appealing. I feel as though you guys stand out a lot which is sexually attractive to others—even if you don’t necessarily mean to. Because I’m getting two piles here where one is confident, assertive. And the other appears soft and angelic yes, but also carries an undertone of seduction. Or maybe you play both. Maybe you pull both personas out when it serves you :) super intelligent! I heard their beauty and brains—so your intelligence and when you show off what you know is considered sexy. Thank you for being here pile 1 <3 please like comment and reblog!

Pile 2: Hello there pile 2! Immediately I saw someone countering someones idea, opinion or argument. I feel you know how to argue, and not through yelling or cursing necessarily. But by fact checking people and it puts them in their place. People feel intimidated by your knowledge, and are especially drawn in by the banter you provide. I feel like you’re a diva, and you know this! You know beauty also comes from intelligence as well and maybe you’re an air sign! Libra aquarius and gemini. Or have an air venus. You can earth too, taurus virgo and Capricorn. Ya’ll are sarcastic, and have a dry humor other people find themselves reeling towards. I think people also give off strong reactions around you, whether it be from love bombing to rejecting you, and it’s not because you did anything wrong or you’re “different.” Your ability to alchemize is felt very strong, so maybe you have pluto strong in your chart—but your energy is felt leaking into peoples subconscious. Especially those who haven’t healed from past wounds its enlightened even more when they’re with you, which makes people feel the need to deflect, hide and project onto you. Because your knowledge scares them. And it also turns people on around you, with what you know. I also feel you may prefer to dress modest, simple and it leaves more to the imagination. People may wonder what you look like under neath. When you go to the gym, people may wonder what your progress looks like under that hoodie or sweatpants. They’re enamored by what they can’t see and they love it. Someone here could be muslim, I’m also getting that message. If you wear a hijab, people love your eyes and your features that pop out beautifully. They find your eyes to be striking and this goes for those who wear a hijab or not! Your eyes are deep and piercing. I heard Elena Gilbert from the TVD, so maybe ya’ll like her, or dress like her at times. You guys come across as detached, yet grounded and rooted in. It reminds me of earth & air energy which I already mentioned. You guys keep up with the trends and I think you try to not follow it necessarily, but you adjust it to your advantage. So if you see clothes that are trending you’ll adjust it so it isnt a direct copy, but a mixture of what you like and its sexy. Sexy because it works for you. I feel as though people want to peek into your mind to know what you’re thinking and feeling. How does your mind work? It’s mysterious and hidden which leaves people guessing which adds to your appeal. People also may fantasize about being “chosen” by you. Having your time, energy, attention, smile, jokes, etc. they can feel jealous when you’re giving that to someone else. Thank you pile 2 for being here, I sincerely appreciate it <3 please reblog like and comment for more!

Pile 3: Hey pile 3, I don’t know why but I saw Mariah Carey singing “its time,” for Christmas 😭 so maybe y’all like that meme a lot, or you love winter and you’re excited to celebrate. Or your energy is super fun! My ear is ringing so—someone has a strong presence of spirit guides and angels here! Or a loved one that passed away is what I heard which I know isn’t a focus of the reading, just needed to say it. Moving on, I feel as though people fantasize about being in your arms. Like, your gaze might be very soft and loving and people fantasize about being held that way when they look at you. You may have a doe eye gaze, so they fantasize about you being below whilst giving them that look. Or holding them and cuddling </3 but also, I feel your sexual appeal is driven by this soft nature. This soft feminine energy which we all have regardless of our gender. So maybe you’ve been working on pampering yourself, going with the flow emotionally, allowing not forcing, etc. all this is very sexually appealing to those around you, and people feel “at home” with you. They feel like it’s a lovely night and it’s sensual with you. I keep getting Christmas memes and concepts 😭 someone here is super excited lol. Its cute. I also feel that people may view you as a present like they need you. They feel like a hopeless romantic around you, because your energy is incredibly nurturing and touches their heart. I also feel that you guys can be witty, sharp with your words which also makes people sexually attracted. It goes straight to their core, so maybe you speak softly, or have an accent that people love. You might prefer to wear light loose fabrics, lots of bright colors, ribbons, or material that is slinky or silky. People feel as though it’s sexy, because it’s soft and feminine like, which adds to your allure. They may imagine you being tied up in ribbons like a present literally. People feel they can escape in your arms—you’re like a drug. People can’t get enough. I feel you already know this, and you come across as sweet as those cute heart candies. Sweethearts. I think thats what you call it! Lol. I think people like when you ask for help even when you know you’ve got it—and when you do the arm brushing thingy, you hold it, people swoon. Your touch is so gentle and yet grounding and they find themselves falling heard over heels <3 People may also think you’re intelligent or skilled in an area of your life which—adds contrast to your softness. And they love it. They’re surprised and turned on by what you know. You may go on rants about your interests and they love to listen! So the more you share your passions it’s such a turn on! Because you’re so deeply involved with your emotions and what makes you feel good internally, that others feel this. They feel your authenticity! I also heard babydoll aesthetic so I have no idea if that is someones theme, blog, way of dressing, etc. thats cool. Thanks pile 3 for being here <3 dont forget to like comment and reblog!

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teamred · 7 months ago

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obvious

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k

SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.

WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story

RATING | teen+

NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)

///

In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending.

Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves.

While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.

Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him.

So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.

“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”

Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.

A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first.

But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–

“Why aren't you like this around him?”

Him referring to your shared master.

The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons.

“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”

“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.

“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then…”

Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again.

And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.

“Maybe…” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.”

The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self.

“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him.

Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.

“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.”

There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration.

You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand.

The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.

“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”

In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.

You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”

You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm.

“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes.

This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.

“Well, there's that…” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–

“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”

You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession.

“I am?”

His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.

Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin.

“Huh. I guess I am.”

You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.”

The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise.

“You wouldn't.”

You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk.

“Oh, I absolutely would.”

You stare at each other, holding your ground.

But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.

Your breathing hitches.

In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.

“Do you…” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”

“You mean…” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?”

“Mm-hmm.”

You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him.

“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”

Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list.

A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind.

“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”

“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.

“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect.

You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear.

“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm.

“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”

You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?”

You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off.

“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.”

“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly.

You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often.

“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”

You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead.

“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.

“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.”

The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”

Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”

“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?”

“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom.

“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.”

“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.

“Qimir, get back here!”

“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!”

Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.

///

A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.

And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.

You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face.

How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?

Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.

You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly.

“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?”

“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently.

“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?”

“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.”

You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind.

Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.

“Uh, I… You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion.

You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.

“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.”

Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul.

His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.

“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”

This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor.

“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.

“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”

You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.

For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for.

#qimir x reader #qimir x you #qimir fluff #qimir fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars fluff #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction

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deansapplepie · 2 months ago

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daryl vanilla sex 🫣

Sex Deck

Summary: You’re having a dinner with one of your closest friends, and you just bought a deck of cards from Princess which is to play a friendly game. You just didn’t know the deck wasn’t friendly at all.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, sex, talks about sex, a sex deck, smut, virgin reader, virginity loss, age gap (but reader is probably around her late 20s/ early 30s), p in v, fingering, oral (female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (you know better than this kids), bad written smut, etc. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

Word Count: 5,4 k

A/N: this was a request for Vanilla sex with Daryl and as I had never written anything virgin reader related, I thought it was a good time to try it. This is not proofread, I have been writing it for months already. Started in Colombia and finished writing in Brazil. My summary sucks. I hope this goes with the expectations of the person who requested and all of you can enjoy it.

You had invited Daryl to your house that night, you’d make burgers and you’d drink beer. You had found a card game in a store in the Commonwealth, you were told to play with friends at parties. So you thought, why not? When the outbreak happened you were very young and didn’t have the opportunity to party like other people.

You stayed for some years with a group, but your life really changed when you found Alexandria. You were alone, you had just lost your family and most people thought you were crazy when you talked about a weird herd of Walkers that seemed to be intelligent, until it started happening to all of them.

You made friends, between them Daryl Dixon and now that you were in the comfort of Commonwealth you weren’t changing that. When the bell of your small apartment rang, you knew it was him. When you opened the door and he saw you he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “A dress? Never saw ya wearing a dress” he observed, you were always wearing jeans and boots.

“Well, now that we’re relatively safe I can wear a dress and be comfortable at home. You should try.” You said.

“Wearing a dress? Nah, thank you. It’s not ma style.” He joked while entering the apartment.

“Being comfortable asshole…” you answered closing the door behind you and heading back ti the kitchen where you were finishing the preparatives for the burgers.

“I thought ya were joking about the burgers.” He observed leaning on the counter.

“I’d never joke about it, I’m really trying to do my best with what we have. It will be nice of it tastes like in the old days.” You finished chopping some vegetables while the burgers finished grilling. “I really liked those kind of food.”

“I wasn’t one for it… to be honest didn’t have the opportunity to eat it many times.” Daryl confessed, a little embarrassed, sometimes he forgot how different his experiences could be from other people’s, especially you, you were younger than him and it bothered him in more ways than he would like to admit.

“It’s ok. Nothing wrong with that. I hope you enjoy mine, well… I hope I also enjoy it, we have more access to things here but it’s still limited.” You finished setting the burgers with vegetables and the bread. “I think it’s ready.”

You ate The hamburger contently, it was delicious even with the limited ingredients you had. Daryl devoured it, for him it was the best burger he had ever ate in his life and he was kinda old so it had to mean something

When you both finished eating you sat on your sofa, beers in hand and you took the pile of cards you had bought earlier. “Look, I got this cards with some questions and challenges for friends to play.” You said excitedly. “It’s gonna be nice, I didn’t have the opportunity to play it before the world ended.”

“Oh yeah? I never hear about it, not popular around my time I guess.” He observed.

You took the cards from your bag, you hadn’t really looked at them before and they looked beautiful, a little aged but the red hearts on the back of the cards were really pretty.

“How’s that played?” He asked observing the cards, he had a weird feeling about it.

“I don’t know, there was no instructions and I never played it. Let’s just take a card at a time, we read it and we both answer, maybe the challenge we tell the other to do?” You had no idea what to do, your time to be a “kid” and mess around had stayed on the past and you couldn’t live it.

“Okay.” He agreed, you put the cards between you too.

“Since, I’m a nice person, you can take the first one.” You said before taking a sip from your beer, damn was this expired or was it just bad?

He didn’t believe he was really playing a silly game with you. If it was some years ago, he would have rolled his eyes at you, said some shit and telling you to forget it. But he couldn’t it was you, the one that caught his eyes immediately when he returned to Alexandria during the period he was away and had that gentle smile for him. The one that brought a smile to the corner of his mouth while playing with little Judith. The one that prepared delicious different food and shared with him. The one that started to visit him by the river to take supplies, kind words and silly toys for his dog.

“Nice person…” he snorted, he knew you were afraid of what could be the first card and let him do the job. He extended his hand and took the first card. He furrowed his browns when he read the question.

“What’s it?” You asked curiously.

He wasn’t really sure how this kind of question was in a deck of a game for friends, but times were changing so he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. “Ugh… how was yer first time?”

As soon as the question left his lips he instantly blushed and you almost choked on your beer. “What?”

“That’s the question.” He passed you the card so you could read. “Well, maybe this is something friends should talk openly… I dunno.”

“Er… maybe… you should start then. You took the card.” You threw the bomb right back at him.

He cleared his throat, it was difficult to talk about the theme even with Carol that was his old friend, talking it with you felt like sin. “It was weird, I was young the girl was older than me… I dunno.” He felt just like a teenage boy at that moment, when he was far from being one. “Yer turn.”

“Hmm…” what could you possibly say, he had had a bad experience but it was better than… “I… I can’t answer that.”

“Come on, I answered it.” He told you nudging your leg with his.

“I… it’s not that I don’t want to answer it. I really can’t. I never did it.” You finally answered the question, now the terrible beer looking very interesting.

He cleared his throat. He was half shoked and half embarassed. It was impressive a lady your age that had never experienced the delights of life, but he also could feel how it was embarassing for you having to tell that to a man. “Ok, let’s take another card.”

He reached for the deck and completely ignored it was your time. His eyes popped when he saw the next card, it was a challenge. “Why?” He asked instead.

‘The next question can’t be why’, you thought. That was weird. “That can’t be the next question Daryl. You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not, it’s the next question.” He lied and it was clear it was a lie, but you answered, it was him after all.

“I was young when the world ended, not very popular before. So yeah. That’s why.” You answered.

As soon as you finished answering you reached to take a card, but he was faster than you and took another one.

“In case you don’t know we should take turns to take the cards.” You complained.

“Ya never explained the rules sweetheart, in fact ya didn’t even know them. Next question…” He looked at the next card and… what the fuck in the fuckering fucks was this deck? Because for sure it wasn’t a deck for friends to enjoy. “How would be your ideal first time?”

What the hell was this questions? He couldn’t be reading the cards. He was messing with you for sure. “In a bed!?” You answered the obvious. “It can’t be the real question, you’re messing up with me. Give those cards, I wanna read them.”

“I ain’t giving you shit.” He answered and you could just think he was being a prick.

You tried to reach it, leaning your self in his direction, extending your arms and hands. It was a lost cause, he was bigger than you taller than you, he extended his arm in the opposite direction. You were practically on his lap trying to reach the pieces of paper in his hands when you lost your balance and fell sitting right into him.

“Who sold this deck of cards to ya?” He asked, now holding you in place.

“Why?” You could have answered, but now you were a little angry at him for not letting you read the cards.

“Who sold ya this?” He asked again, firmly.

“Princess, she told me it was a friends game and we would have fun.” You explained. Damn, he couldn’t beat her ass…

“Ya didn’t even took a look at this, did ya?

“No, I was in a hurry and I just took it. I was happy we would have something different to do.” You answered.

“Hmm…” he hummed, his fingers delicately tracing forms on your arm and waist. “Read them.” He gave you the 2 last cards he had took from the deck.

‘Challenge: Kiss your partner’s ear.’

‘Question: Would you do a threeway?’

You almost choked when you read the cards. What were these? You took the rest of the deck and couldn’t believe on all the things you were reading. Princess had sold you a Sex Deck or something. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I know. Now, my questions were better, weren’t they?”

“They weren’t more innocent.” You observed.

“Hm…” he didn’t released the hold on you, you didn’t move to leave. “But how would you like it be?”

‘With you’, you thought. You didn’t have the courage to voice it so openly. “In a comfortable place probably, so in my bed. With a person I trust, older probably…”

Older… did you have anyone in mind? Who did you know that was older than you and you trust? He started to make a list of people on his mind.

“Do ya have anyone in mind?” Very subtle Daryl. Very subtle.

“I…” You took a quick glance at him. Why did he keep doing this questions? And why did you keep answering them? “Older, tall, broad shoulders, a provider and protector, probably someone that can hunt…” Fuck you were describing him, was it too obvious? Damn everything. You looked at him. “Medium length wavy brown hair, blue eyes, serious, sometimes let out a cute smile…”

Was it possible that his heart stopped? Because he felt like it. Were you really describing him? Or maybe there was someone with those same characteristics that you liked? “Do I know that guy?”

“I’d say yes…”blush. Blush. Blush. Avert his eyes. That was it, you could lose everything. Which means him, but you had put yourself in this situation even if by mistake. “I’m talking about you.”

Silence.

Silence in the room. But not on both of your heads that were now pure chaos and inner screaming. “D’ya mean that?”

“Only if it’s not ruining things between us.” You were already regretting all of that.

“Nothing could ever ruin things between us.” Daryl said, if he thought his heart had stopped beating before, it was working on full force right now. Specially with you still so close and sitting on his lap. “Can I kiss ya?”

“Yeah…” You whispered as if you spoke any louder something would break.

Silence again. This time with expectation. He neared his face to yours and you held your breath. His lips grazed over yours, you wanted it for so long… you wanted him since you saw him entering the gates of Alexandria, Jude on his arms after rescuing her with Michonne.

The hesitation in him made you close the smallest of the gaps there were between you and pressed your lips against his. That awoke him and his lips started moving with yours. He first took his time knowing your lips, gods… did he want to do that for a long time already. Not even in his wildest dreams he could imagine it would come true. You opened your mouth slightly giving him access to your mouth, you could now savor his taste like you imagined many many times before. One of his hands locked fingers with your hair near your nape, the other holding one of your thighs. You tangled your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his brown locks.

You wanted him closer, you needed him. He needed you closer, he wanted you. There was no way you could be closer than this… unless he was inside of you. At the same time Daryl was lost in his mind he came back to his senses and slowly broke your kiss. “We shouldn’t do that. Ya drank.”

“I didn’t even drink half of the bottle, Daryl. This beer is horrible. I’ve wanted you for nearly 6 years, I don’t think I’m stopping any moment soon.” You looked at his face, your eyes buried deep inside of his. “If you want me, I want you.”

“I dun know if I know how to be delicate.” He said, ironically, caressing your face delicately. Damn, you’ve wanted him basically for the same amount of time he has wanted you.

“I don’t mind as long as it’s you” you answered. “I know you’re gonna try.”

“I’ve wanted ya for a long time, sweetheart.” He gave you a kiss on your cheek. And another. He descended his kisses to your jaw, he went up kissing under your ear, your earlobe… getting a mix of a squeal and a moan from you.

You were still sitting across his lap, his right hand made his way up your thighs lifting the dress you had on. He licked, kissed and bit your neck when his hand found your clothed pretty much wet pussy. “Ya’re so wet, sweetheart…” An open mouthed kiss on your neck. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He nibbled your skin.

“I’m a virgin, not a saint Daryl.” You were as sassy as you could while the man melted you into a pool. He put your panties aside, his fingers finally meeting your heat.

“And what do ya think about when ya do so?” He wanted to ask who you thought about. He wanted to ask if you thought about him.

“I think about…” He pressed your clit making you gasp. “…about you, touching me, fu-fucking me.”

His fingers ran through your folds while his thumb pressured your clit caressing it in circles. Moans escaping your lips as jolts of pleasure ran through your body. “Daryl… kiss me, please”

“What a cute needy thing ya’re…” He said his lips already covering yours. He teased your entrance with his index finger while still playing with your bundle of nerves. When his finger entered you, you held him strongly, it was a weird sensation his finger inside of you, but as he kept moving it inside of you, kissed you and pressed your clit, it passed and all you could think about was about the pleasure he was making you feel. Your moans were muffled by his kisses and your hips bucked against his hand. Fuck, your fingers could never do it so good like him.

He broke the kiss, but his fingers never stopped. Your walls clenched around his finger while he added a second one. You gasped, you moaned… a different sensation. “Daryl…”

“It’s ok, baby…” he whispered in a soothing way, while still working on you feeling you contracting against his fingers. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah… does…” You didn’t even had words anymore, you just wanted to give in to the feelings.

“Yer so pretty like this, totally surrendered…” He whispered on your ear, his raspy voice sending tingles through your body, his fingers pressing all the right places over and over again. “Do ya wanna let go sweetheart? Let it go, let me see that pretty face of yours when ya cum.”

You never believed someone could cum because a person told them to. But there you were throwing your head and arching your back in pure ecstasy after hearing the words from Daryl’s lips. You felt like you were floating, your head a dizzy mess that no alcohol would be able to do something similar. Your body trembled while your walls contracted against his fingers. Your hands in fists on his shirt, while you waited that euphoric wave to subdue.

“Daryl…” You hid your face on his neck, your nose caressing his skin and your breath sending chills all over him.

“Ya good sweetheart?” He asked, his free hand now roaming your back.

“Yeah, super good…” You answered.

“Do ya want to continue?” Gosh? He really wanted to keep going, but it was you and he had to be a gentleman even if he thought he was the farthest thing from it.

“This isn’t even a question Daryl, the answer is yes. Always going to be yes.” Your hands went to both sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his one more time, needier, hungrier, eagerly… You could get used to it, kissing him, you’d have to. He was now prohibited on not kissing you, you needed his kisses like a fish needed water.

He reciprocated, of course he reciprocated, if he was living the dream he was going to leave it properly. The hand that touched you just a few minutes before went under your legs and got up with you on his arms and walked in your bedroom's direction. You had said you wanted a bed, hadn’t you?

Your feet landed softly on the floor, but you didn’t break the kiss, your arms tangled around his neck trying to bring him closer into you. His hands traveled down your body finding their rest on your butt, he had looked at them before, but touching… he tugged at the hem of your dress bringing it up your middle, your breasts just to painfully break the kiss and take it off by your head.

“Yer too damn beautiful sweetheart…” He said taking you in.

“You’re making me shy, Daryl” You said your fingers battling with the buttons of his shirt while your eyes were fixed on his face, the way he looked at you, he hasn’t done it before.

“Ya shy? The one who bought the sex cards…” he teased you, that same look on his face but a smirk on his lips.

“You know I was fooled into buying it.” You answered. “Wouldn’t buy if knew it.”

“And we probably wouldn’t be here now.”

“Probably not.” You took his shirt off revealing his torso, he was handsome. All those scars had a story which made him who he was. His manly body, his small fluffy stomach… you wanted to lick him.

He captured your lips with his one more time and guided you to the bed getting you sat and kneeling between your legs. His hands went up your back and opened your bra with an easiness that you wondered if you should be concerned, he slid it off and soon his hands were engulfing them.

Your hands touched his abdomen with such delicacy that he thought he was in heaven, your fingers ran up and down and to the sides. Casually brushing on the hem of his pants. You undid his belt while sweet moans escaped into his mouth. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and your hands were going incredibly south.

“Take it easy, baby. Today’s ‘bout ya.” His hands that played with your nipples went lower touching your curves and ending on each side of your panties. “And I’m still taking care of ya.”

“Is it prohibited to touch you, or something?” You asked, your hands tentatively half the way to hover his aching cock still protected by his boxers.

“Absolutely not, just… don’t feel obligated to, I wanna this be good for ya, right?” He prohibiting you from touching him? he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him, he’d be completely at your mercy, that is if that night wasn’t the very night he was introducing you to the practice. Then he tugged lightly on each side of your panties and asked you “is it okay if I take these out?”

“Yes, it is. Daryl, I give you consent for everything, so please just do it.” You said. It was cute him being so careful and asking you all the way through, but damn you trusted this man with your life, he could do everything he wanted to you.

“Eager, are we?” He teased you one more time, before sliding your panties down your legs and take a good look at you. “We did a pretty mess here, didn’t we?”

His hands went up and down your legs stopping on your thighs, he lowered his face to kiss your inner thighs, starting right where your knees started and going real close to your core that was aching for him. Just to go back and start the same process with the other side. The sounds that came out of your mouth were sweet and gave him the fuel he needed to keep going.

His facial hair was tickling you and adding to the pleasurable sensations going through your body, at the same time you sighed with bliss you giggled with it. That was till the moment his lips made contact with your pussy, at first a small kiss on your clit, then an open mouth kiss to your center. You gasped, you trembled, you bucked against him.

Instinctively your hand went to rest on his head, your fingers finding his brown locks. He didn’t complained, he just grunted while he made out with your pussy. “Oh, Daryl…” you had no words to say, only moans and his name.

He took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder. “Scoot over, sweetheart.” As he commanded you did, moving yourself up in the bed while his face was buried between your thighs. “Lay down and just enjoy, darling”.

You did as he said, at this moment you’d do anything he asked. If he told you to jump from a bridge, you’d jump from the damn bridge. You mewled as you felt his tongue all over you.

He moved his lips to suck at your clit making your hips buck into his face, with one hand holding on your thigh, he took the other right at your heat again. This time when his finger entered your warm sweet cave it didn’t feel foreign anymore, it felt familiar as if it belonged there. Your fingers massaged his scalp while you whimpered at his stimulation. As his fingers curved inside of you and hit that spot, you contracted against him, a signal you were close.

He got more engaged on his ministrations, he wanted you to reach your peek one more time. He wanted your juices all over his face. Gods! He wanted you well prepared for when he finally put his dick where it belonged, inside of you. When you came, you came harder than the first time, a mess of moans of his name and little cries of pleasure. Of course you weren’t aware of it, you were too lost in the bliss.

He helped you through your high, till it passed. He got his head up from between your folds, his face glistening with your cum. He squeezed your thighs seeing you didn’t seem to be back yo this world. “Ya there sweetheart?”

His voice brought you back to reality. “I’m here.”, you finally answered he crawled the bed to look in your face, his knew and thigh between your legs.

“Ya’re doing so well, baby.”, he said right before kissing you slowly and sweet, the taste of you inside his mouth mixing with the flavor of your mouths. Your hands traveling from his head, to his neck and shoulders, sliding down his arms and finding it’s way down his chest. Your hand finally palming him over the fabric of his boxers. He hissed, the feeling too much for him to take. Your pretty little hands weren’t even touching his skin and he felt his control slipping through his fingers. Damn he was feeling like a teenager, he’d cum right there if he didn’t took control over again.

You slid your hand inside bringing him outside, your hand slowly going up and down on his skin. He tried to hold on, keep composed, you were exploring and he was loving every minute of it, he had to let you before taking control again. Your hand moved from the base to the tip of his dick, delicate and precise. “Darling, I can’t let you keep with it… I’ll not be able to hold it if you continue.”

While you did it you analyzed it, it was big, tick and veiny. It was beautiful and glorious, you wondered how would it be to have it inside of you.. you even wondered how it would be to do other things with it, like putting it in your mouth. “Sorry, just wanted to feel it…” you managed to say, almost pouting.

“Sweetheart, don’t be sorry. Do you have any idea for how long I wanted you? I’m… so excited that I’m losing control.” He confessed, it was cute, you let go of it and took your hands back to his face and neck.

“It’s ok, I share the same feeling. That’s why I couldn’t help myself.” You confessed looking into his eyes, raising your head to peck on his lips. “You can have me Daryl…”

“If ya ever want to stop, just let me know, al’ight?” He said, eyes on yours, noses brushing.

“It’s ok.” You answered capturing his lips in yours right after and closing your eyes.

You kissed slowly, tenderly and intensely. Both of you shifting your bodies into more comfortable positions while doing so. He stopped the kiss, giving your lips some pecks before speaking. “It’s not gonna be like my fingers, are ya ready?”

“Yes, please.” You looked at his blue eyes and felt he was more worried than you. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he knew that was the only way of doing it, the only way for your first time. At least he had tried preparing you, he didn’t know of it was going to work, he never had a woman that hadn’t experienced it before. “It’s gonna be ok, Daryl…”

“Ok, love…” the words rolled from his lips easily before he could notice them.

He kissed you again, passionately, his hands traveling down your body. He took a handful of your thighs pressing your body more against his, you could feel his hardness pretty much alive rubbing against your sensitive folds. He stopped the kissing again, looking at your eyes and you nodded as if you said ‘yes, do it. Let’s start.’.

He pumped his cock, spreading your moisture on it before positioning it at your entrance. He pressed it against you, slowly trying to make his way in, to break the barriers and do what both of you wanted. He pushed himself inside little by little, the stretch felt like too much to start with it, but you held yourself like a big girl and when he finally broke that barrier the stretch was nothing compared to the burning sensation you felt down there, tears automatically coming to your eyes. “Definitely not your fingers…”, you wanted it to be a joke, but sounded more like a complaint.

“Wanna stop baby?” He asked hands caressing your face and hair. You shook your head unable to answer. He kissed the tears from your face, one of his hands traveling down to your clit, rubbing and pressing it in hopes the pain you felt would go away. “Whenever you’re ready to continue sweetheart.” He said kissing your neck.

As he pressed and rubbed your clit the pain started to subdue and you started to feel mote pf him and the jolts of pleasure being sent throughout your body. The way your walls contracted around him a signal your body was now accepting him. “I’m ready…” you said when he could continue and he continued to move until he bottomed out, not very difficult with all the slickness inside of you.

When he finished going all the way in, you let out a moan while he grunted. He started moving slowly, not going out too much. You braced yourself on him, your arms going around him and your hands soothingly slipping on his skin. He increased the speed in small portions, never going too fast, but now going almost the way out just to go back again.

You felt in a very sensual dance with him, the way his body moved against yours and the way your body responded to his as if you were in sink. Sighs and moans left your lips, making a symphony he so much enjoyed. “Sweetheart, ya feel so good… so tight. Ya’re doing so well.”

He kept on caressing your head, his fingers moving on your hair, his eyes never leaving yours recording in his memory every reaction he saw in you.

“Oh , Daryl… please…” Even in a heated moment like this, he thought you were so cute.

“Please what, baby? What do ya want?” He nuzzled your neck, his voice hoarser from lust.

“More, I want more… please…” You pleaded by his ear, so driven by him that you just wanted more of whatever he could offer you.

“As ya wish sweetheart” He didn’t increase his speed, but increased his precision looking for that spongy place inside of you that would make you see starts. When he hit it for the first time yesterday you moaned/screamed at the feeling huge if compared to his fingers doing the exact same thing.

After it he continued trying hit it over and y again, his fingers drawing circles on your bundle of nerves. You a complete mess, surrendered to him, closer and closer to your sweet destination as your walls spasmed around him. “Are ya close, love? It’s ok, ya can cum… I’ll go right after ya.”

With a few more trusts of him, you came messy and hard, your vision getting white as your body convulsed held by him. He kept trusting inside you and as your walls held him so tightly, he got to same place as you. Ridding both your highs for as long as he could.

His body collapsed on top of you, the crushing sensation of his body over you making you feel safe and protected. Both your breaths trying to regulate your fingers massaging his scalp and running on his hair while his mouth couldn’t help but press little soft kisses on the skin on your shoulder. When both of you had calmed down, he propped himself to look at you. “Are you ok? How do ya feel?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” You said looking at his face. “It was so good. Thank you…”

“Sweetheart, don’t have to thank me for that.” Gods, he was the one that need to be thankful. “I guess it’s time we take care of ya.”

He pulled out of you, immediately regretting and missing your warm walls. He went through your things looking for a towel he could use and found a small one. He returned to find you sprawled on bed with both of your cums and a little bit of blood, leaking from you. “Damn… I could get used to this view.” He didn’t think before speaking.

“You can get used to this.” You said, he could see it everyday if he wanted to.

He used the towel to clean you and afterwards the bed. When he finished taking care of you, he laid by your side, covering your bodies under a comfy blanket. You laid your head on his chest while he held you in his arms and you could listen to his heartbeat.

“I was serious when I said you could get used to this. You could have this everyday if it depends on me.”

His heart skipped a beat or two listening to your words. If you wanted him, he would have you like this everyday. Instead of letting his past insecurities overcome him, he decided now was the perfect time to use that sassy remark you threw at him earlier. “Will ya show me how you’re not a saint in the next times?”

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33

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alilobsessive · 12 days ago

Text

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x gender neutral reader #x reader #neglected reader #crow reader #villain reader

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finelinevogue · 27 days ago

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Hiii, I love ur work and I’m so down bad for Hotch rn :) I was wondering if you could write something like he’s always opening doors for her or pulling out her seat and just cute littler mannerisms he does for his BAU gf :)❤️

omg hi thank you so much my lovely! i’m so in love with this ask tysm!! <3

pairing - aaron hotchner x girlfriend!reader

word count - +1k

Aaron Hotchner’s love language was acts of service.

He wasn’t very confident with his words, having historically always managed to say the wrong things to the people closest to him.

What Aaron hadn’t quite understood, however, was that his actions were often ten times louder than his words. He didn’t have to constantly reassure you he loved you in words, because he was always doing something to show you he did.

1. He holds the doors open for you

It had been moving office day.

You were struggling to balance all your boxes in your arms at the same time as looking over them to watch where you’re going.

After climbing up the stairs from the third floor to the fourth floor, you came across the glass doors to enter the main office area.

“Sorry, excuse me…” You said as a man walked past, but he didn’t stop.

“Hi, sorry to bother you…” A woman walked by but didn’t stop either.

You sighed, trying to peer for where the door handle was without dropping anything.

Luckily your new boss, and boyfriend, came to your rescue.

“Honey, careful. What are you trying to do?” Hotch appeared at your side, taking off a box from the top of your pile and opening the door all in one sweep.

He held the door open for you to walk through first, looking over you to make sure you’re okay.

“Everyone’s clearly having an off day. No one would help me open the door, even when I asked politely.” You pouted.

“Give me names.” Hotch said seriously as you walked through the door.

“Aaron…”

“Names, please.”

2. He peels your oranges

It had been a weekend and you and Aaron hadn’t been on a case, so you were both enjoying some time together at home.

Aaron had just asked you to pause the movie you’d been watching whilst he went and got you both a snack.

He had been gone too long now and so you had to investigate - like the special agent you are.

“Aaron? Love?” You called out.

You walked into the kitchen to find him stood behind the counter, peeling an orange - your favourite fruit.

There was a little bowl of melted chocolate and a little bowl of strawberries which had been cut and sliced the way you like.

He continued to peel the orange and take off all the white stringy bits, the way he knew you liked it to be. It made it easy to eat for you without getting your hands the slightest bit messy.

“Honey.” You pouted with loving eyes.

He was just the best.

“What?” He smirked, showing off a dimple he only reserved for you.

“You know what.” You said, rounding the counter to hug him from behind. You held him tight, squeezing your love into him the best you could.

You loved and appreciated him so much and after everything he does for you, a hug was the least he deserved.

3. He warms your clothes

An odd act of affection that Aaron does that you love is when he warms your clothes.

You remember one time when you had gone to visit a friend after work and had come home late all you could think about was having a cup of tea, getting into your pyjamas and going to bed.

Luckily your boyfriend knew you all too well and had prepared.

You’d come home and everything was ready.

You dropped your keys on the kitchen counter with an exhausted sigh of relief.

Your boyfriend walked into the room moments later, empty cup of coffee in his hand ready to wash. How he drinks coffee this late you’ll never try to understand.

“Hey.” You smiled tiredly.

Aaron rounded the counter and leant down to give you a kiss. It was slow and sweet, feeling like you have all the time in the world when you’re in your home together.

“Hey.” He pulled away to kiss your forehead. “How was Claire?”

“Oh you know? Marital troubles as usual.”

“No. I don’t know.” Aaron washed out his cup as he spoke, giving you a hearty smile.

“And you never will know marital troubles if you keep washing your dishes like that.” You cheekily slapped his ass and he gave you a chuckle in response.

Just before you could leave the room Aaron called your name.

“Your clothes are on the radiator to keep them warm and there’s a tea on your bedside table.”

You just stared at him whilst he dried his now clean mug - it was the one you had bought him as one of the first gifts you gave him, because back then you didn’t want to seem like you were coming on too strong.

It almost made you want to cry with how thoughtful he was. Keeping your clothes warm and making you a tea were kind of the bare minimum in societies books, but in yours it was the mark of true love and going above and beyond.

“Aaron, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If that was your way of proposing, then yes I’ll marry you.”

4. PDA

If there was one thing that Aaron hated, it was PDA. Which is why it was all the more special when it did happen.

You remember this one time where you were on your way back from a case and on the jet.

“I don’t get why you two don’t share a hotel room when we’re on a case? You’d save the Bureau hundreds.” Morgan said, from where he was sat across from Hotch.

Morgan had noticed that Hotch kept looking at your uncomfortable frame trying to get some sleep on the chair next to him. It really was killing Hotch not to help you.

Hotch looked up at Morgan.

“We discussed it with HR. They said it wasn’t workplace appropriate.” Hotch answered in the most cryptic way possible.

“Mhm.”

“Doesn’t stop them from sneaking into each others rooms like a pair of coming-of-age teenagers.” Emily joked, but she was more a less correct.

“What HR doesn’t know, they don’t know.” Hotch said and that shut down that conversation.

“Well they won’t know if you hold her to sleep then either, will they boss man?” Morgan suggested, before getting up from the chairs and going to sit on the sofa with Reid.

Hotch looked over your trying-to-sleep body.

You had heard the entire conversation, but had been too tired to open your eyes or contribute in any way.

It was only when you felt your boyfriends hands move the arm rest up between you both that you became restless.

“C’mon.” He spoke softly to you.

His hands helped guide you to move in your chair, until your body was angled back against Hotch’s side.

One of his arms came around your body to hold you in place securely against him. The other came to hold your hand in his, making sure you were tightly held for comfort more than anything.

“Love you.” He whispered into your hairline.

“Mm.” You responded, too tired to form a coherent response but Aaron knew what you meant nevertheless. He always did.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff

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suguann · 7 months ago

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an. another ex-husband gojo fic because i'll die with this trope. this ends exactly how you'd expect (if you know me)

Satoru doesn’t take it well when you tell him you have a boyfriend after bumping into him in the grocery store parking lot. At least, you don’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, his expression inscrutable as ever behind his dark sunglasses—the sharp arch of his brow the only indication he’s heard you at all.

“Is that so?” he finally says, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. Has you grasping at straws to make something right that isn’t even wrong yet. Has any thought of this being an easy conversation shattered at your feet.

You clear your throat. “Yeah…he’s nice. You might even like him.”

No, he wouldn’t—a little voice in the back of your head tells you. Knowing it's because all of the unreadable parts of you are no longer connected to him, but instead to a man you've barely spent two months dating, and that must infuriate him.

He doesn’t ask (not that you expect him to) when you find yourself prattling on about how you met Rin through a friend, how he’s an investment banker and takes you out to his cabin on the weekends, that he’s predictable—stable is what you really mean, but don't say—with an ordinary life who wants kids—

Satoru seems to chew on that last bit of information like he’s suddenly tasted something unpleasant, the line of his brow flat and unimpressed, the slant in his mouth mutinous. He’s uttered all but three words, and so far, this entire conversation leaves you with nothing short of a stomach ache.

“He really is a good person,” you add, just because you have nothing else to say and your penchant for filling awkward, empty spaces.

Then he smiles, and you relax a little. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

You smile, too, a soft, sure thing this time that makes his widen.

But if you'd been more level-headed and less flustered about bumping into your ex-husband after several months of silence—since he signed his name beside yours in front of your lawyer—you’d realize how dangerous that smile is.

You’re unsure if it’s too contingent to be considered a coincidence, but he starts showing up in odd places after that all-too-uncomfortable one-sided conversation in the parking lot.

First, it’s at your favorite coffee shop you usually stop at on your way to work. It’s strange because you remember him hating coffee, how he'd always preferred to load it with creamer and sweetener just to get rid of the bitter taste. But you don’t mention it when he offers—no, insists on paying for your coffee and blueberry streusel muffin.

When the total pops up on the register, he doesn’t even blink when he opens his wallet.

Of course, you can't let him pay. There must be something in writing somewhere that says ex-husbands shouldn't pay for their recently divorced ex-wife's coffee.

He shrugs, smiling, after you tell him it’s expensive—has that ever bothered me?—and slides a shiny black card across the counter to the barista.

“You can't show up out of nowhere and start buying me things,” you hiss afterward, slightly flustered by the whole ordeal. The city’s big, but you still worry about one of your friends or colleagues seeing you with Satoru—they may get the wrong idea. “We’re not together anymore.”

"Do I have to message you the next time I want to get you coffee?" he tucks his hands into his coat.

"No, we shouldn't even be getting coffee together."

“Am I not allowed to be nice now that you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I said,” you huff. “And you didn’t even buy yourself anything. How am I supposed to look at it?”

He shrugs, “I decided I didn’t want anything,” and you don't even think he notices that he holds your hand when you go to cross the street.

Habit. You'll write that one off as a habit, but he doesn't let go until you're in front of the tall, shiny doors of your office building.

The second time he shows up unannounced is while you're walking through the quaint park near your apartment, which you know is far from his sleek penthouse on 5th Avenue, the one with a perfect view of the city and the bay—a thirty-minute drive, at least.

“I bought a house out here,” he tells you when you ask. “It’s up on the hill.”

You know which one he’s talking about. You’ve driven past it a few times. It's a cozy brick stone with lots of windows, a white picket fence, and a large backyard, something you’ve always wanted since before you were married. According to a real estate website, his house is a little over a million.

Interest must be written all over your face because he asks: “You want to see it?”

There are a number of reasons why you shouldn’t say yes, why you should politely decline and finish your last lap along the trail and run to the grocery store afterward to pick up something for dinner and call Rin to let him hear about your day—

“Okay,” you say, hands on your hips. “But make it quick.”

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling at the corners with something akin to affection. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to remind him, again, that you’re not together, so he’s not allowed to use pet names, but a large hand on the small of your back to usher you towards the shiny, sleek SUV across the street leaves you with a mouth full of cotton.

He watches you take in the hardwood floors and tall ceilings trimmed with crown molding. When you stop in the massive kitchen to run your fingers over the granite countertops, it almost feels bittersweet walking through the house of your dreams while your ex-husband eyes you questioningly as if he's looking for your approval.

“So? What do you think?”

The smile you give him is genuine. “It’s beautiful.”

Satoru matches your smile with a bigger one, almost blinding. “That’s good, that’s really good.”

You feel like you should ask why he bought a house this big in the first place, but there’s a pebble in your stomach if you think about family photos on the walls with him happy and smiling, his arm around a pretty wife who wears frilly aprons and kisses him on the cheek when he comes home. A future where you don’t exist, yet he’s letting you take a peak into it, anyway.

So you don’t say anything.

You meant to leave an hour ago, but he plied you with dinner— friends can have dinner together, can’t they? —which leads to two glasses of wine and then watching movies together on his very soft couch. If everything didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, you probably would have noticed the signs sooner, that he’s trying to—

(He presses you into the couch cushions, biting marks into your neck and chest until your breaths come out fast and high-pitched.

“We shouldn’t,” you manage to say, still tipsy and tongue heavy in your mouth from the wine you had. "Toru, I should really go."

He huffs a laugh against your cheek—you note how he still wears the same cologne you bought him all those years ago when everything was so new, and there wasn't a ring on your finger yet—pressing a messy kiss there that makes you squirm. “Doesn’t this remind you of old times, though?”

“B-but I have a boyfriend.”

In retaliation, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh around the fluttering pulse in your neck, just shy of too rough, though your fingers in his hair pull him into you like you can’t get enough.)

That maybe this means he—

(Satoru bunches the lace of your panties in his fist, shoving them up around your knees, trapping your legs together against your chest. A long, drawn-out groan rumbles in his chest at discovering the creamy mess between your thighs. “Always had such a pretty wet pussy, fuck. Do you get this wet for him, too?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs because he hears what you don’t say: No, you’ve never been this turned on when it’s with Rin. Satoru’s the only one to ever leave you wet and shaky just from a few words.)

It’s an insane thought, but it’s almost like Satoru—

(He holds his hand up to your mouth, telling you to lick before he wraps it around his cock, pressing the tip into the slick seam of your cunt. And you forgot how big he is, just on the side of too much, the bit of effort it takes for him to sink in a little, and then all at once, rending you right down the middle.

You whimper, fingers scrabbling clumsily for one of the throw pillows near your head, needing something to hold on to.

“There you go, pretty girl,” Gojo breathes, hips tight and close, grinding into you so that you can feel how deep he is. “I see she can still take it.”)

No, he wouldn’t—

(He fucks you hard enough to send you skittering up the couch, only to pull you back down again, grinding you on his cock to touch places inside you that he’s only ever managed to reach. You whine into where your face is pressed against the back cushions, biting down to muffle how loud you’re being.

He makes a displeased sound and forces you to look at him again with his fingers digging into your cheeks.

"What if I give you a little baby, huh? We'll be a family together. You, me, and our baby in this big house. Doesn't that sound nice? We'll fill the house with babies," he mutters, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, forcing your legs further against your chest.

The angle rubs just right inside you. You make an unintelligible noise at the back of your throat, unable to move or get better friction in this position.

“We did it your way last time, didn’t we, baby?” his little laugh is breathless, kind of mean. “I let you leave with all those silly thoughts in your head; thought you knew what you wanted, but now we’re going to do it my way from now on.”

His words should strike alarm bells, but when he fits his hand between your bodies to strum his thumb against your clit, your mind empties.

"You've always been mine." Words barely audible, he still sounds breathless; wrecked. "It's about time you get that through your head.")

Except you know he would.

A month later, you’re packing away the fine china in your apartment, wondering how the few things you own will fill a house so large.

#.things i write #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #fem!reader #gojo satoru

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thecuriousbeauty · 2 months ago

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A Bad Day- Harry Styles x reader

Synopsis: y/n has a horrible day and she can't wait to come home to the comfort of her boyfriend, who can make anything better.

A/N:-Sorry for not posting anything for so long guys, college has been hectic. In fact, this blurb is based on my own bad day, except there wasn't a Harry to help me feel better. Hope everyone's doing okay and sending lots of love to you all.

Word count: 1,661

Warnings: Harry being sweet! Fluff!

__________________________________________

You were hanging on by a very, fine, thread. A thread you knew could break anytime, with how much you’d been through today. You really didn’t believe that there would be days where everything you did would go wrong, or get messed up. A bad day as people called it.

You liked to take on the world with a positive headset, and it usually helped you think with a clear mind so you could find solutions to the problems. But today, no matter how positive you tried to be, horrible things just kept piling on, burying you under the weight of it. You were grateful that the day was finally over, and you were back home.

Home, where you knew you wouldn’t be judged or frowned upon. Home, where you knew you had one person who would always have your back.

Harry probably didn’t hear you come in. You could hear him humming a tune while he worked around in the kitchen. You walk to the counter to place your bag, and see your boyfriend stirring a sauce, wearing your favorite red and white apron that has too many stains on it from your numerous cooking adventures.

He turns his head to look at you as he hears your footsteps, and smiles, emerald eyes immediately washing over your face as he tries to figure out how you were holding up. He knew about one of the reasons for your bad day today, which was your instagram account getting hacked. You don’t even use the app that often, just to maintain contacts with everyone, and you were surprised when your friend texted you in the morning asking you to check if your account has been hacked. Your private account had been made public, messages had been sent to all your followers and they even posted things on your story.

You were a little too panicked in the morning and the hackers had even changed the phone number of your account, so there wasn’t much you could do. When you were done panicking, you did what you could do and removed all your followers and deleted all your personal information from it before it got too late.

“Hey.”, you say to him, going behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back, sighing.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m making a new pasta recipe!”, Harry says, placing his free hand not holding the spatula over yours and squeezing.

“Smells good.”, you mumble into his shirt, inhaling his comforting scent. You appreciated that he was making food for you but you weren’t hungry.

“Still worried, baby?”

You release another sigh, closing your eyes. “I-It’s not just that. Things just kept going bad after that..”

“Oh, darling.”, Harry coos, switching off the flame and taking your arms, gently lifting them from his waist so he could turn around and give you his undivided attention. Harry tugs you closer, one hand cupping your cheek. “It’s okay, you’re here now..”

You willed so hard for the tears not to form, but they did. “H-Harry..”

“Come here, my love.”, Harry moved his hand to the back of your head and pushed your head into his chest, the other arm wrapping around you to hold you close to him.

“T-There was a surprise oral test, a-and I knew everything but I-I got anxious and d-didn’t do so well. I-I couldn’t focus, Haz. And t-then-”

“Take a breath for me, sweetheart.”, Harry interrupts you gently as you stutter, rubbing his hand over your back in gentle circles.

“A-And then during our practicals, a girl b-borrowed my pipette and i-it broke, s-so I couldn’t do the experiment. T-That’s gonna come for the finals, i-it was an important experiment.” You sob into his shirt, releasing all that had been building up and Harry lets you, simply listening and just being there.

“I’m so sorry you had such a rough day, baby.”, Harry murmurs into your hair. “But you know what? You are so smart. You are where you are because of your hard work and skills, so not doing well on one test isn’t going to define your knowledge. Don’t be too hard on yourself, love, with the kind of morning you had, no one would have been able to focus!”

Harry runs his fingers through your hair, smoothing out some of the knots. “You can go ask the professor if you can do the experiment again when you have free time right? And they’ll give you revision before the finals, so don’t worry.”

You nod, looking up at him through your tear filled eyes. “I-I’m still not able to delete my account, instagram help is of no use.”

“We’ll figure it out, darling. On the bright side, at least the hackers didn’t get anything personal.” Harry wipes his thumbs under your eyes, stroking away the tears. “Breaks my heart to see you so upset.”

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn��t planning on sobbing into you as soon as I walked in.”

“You were planning on doing it maybe after a shower and dinner?”, Harry smirks, and you nudge his ribs, weakly laughing. Harry chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad you feel safe enough to let out your emotions with me. Sometimes you really need a good cry!”

“That’s true.”, you agree, sniffling.

“Let me give my girl a kiss now.”, Harry says, gently taking your chin so he could press your lips to yours. You close your eyes, enjoying the sweet, comforting kiss. Harry knows just how to kiss you depending on the moment.

“Don’t let anything get to you, okay?”, he whispers when he pulls away. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

You finally give him a small smile, nodding. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Why don’t you go take a hot shower now, love? I’ll have dinner ready by that time.”

“Um, can you join too? I’ll help you cook later?” You really didn’t want to be alone.

Harry understands, and he nods, turning around to find a lid for the pan. He takes off his apron as well. “Come on, darling.” He places a hand on the small of your back, leading you to the bedroom.

Harry strips, turns on the water and adjusts the water as you strip down, and holds out his hand for yours when you’re done. You sigh as the warm water hits your sore muscles, it was just the right temperature too. Harry brings you into a hug again, and you accept it gratefully, closing your eyes and just standing there for some time.

After a few minutes, Harry reaches to turn the water off and takes some shower gel into the loofah before starting to run it over your arms and shoulders. “So beautiful.”, he praises, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and you can’t help but smile. “So are you.”

“I’m beautiful!?”, he sends his voice up by a few octaves, making you giggle. “Yeah!”

After he finished washing your body, he envelops you in a towel and helps you dry off. You both get dressed, and Harry picks you up, your legs tucking around his hips for support. “Did you eat today, love?”

“Um, I had a banana for lunch..”

“Knew it. You always skip food when you’re upset.”, he says, setting you down on the kitchen slab. “Not to worry though, you’re going to bed with a full tummy.”

“What can I do to help?”, you ask, watching him re-wear his apron.

“Why don’t you find something for us to watch?”

“That’s not helping.”

“I just have to toss the pasta in the sauce, baby, I got it. Go, pick whatever you feel like watching.”

By the time you found a show, Harry had plated the food and was bringing it to you. He settled on the couch next to you. You took the first bite and that’s when you realized just how hungry you were. You followed it up with another, and blushed when Harry looked at you with a grin.

“This is great, babe. Thank you.”, you tell him.

“You’re welcome, love. There’s enough for us to take seconds, so eat up!” You watched your show while eating, chatting up with Harry about it. Then you continued to cuddle on the couch. Harry rubbed your arm with one hand while the other was holding your phone. He wanted to try something one of his friend’s told him about when his account was hacked as well.

“There, think I got it to deactivate.”, he says.

“Really?” You take a look as well, and see the message that says that it should get deactivated soon. You sigh in relief and hug around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d wither and die.”, he jokes, making you gasp and he laughs, stroking back strands of your hair from your forehead when you look up at him. “Are you feeling better now?”

“A little.”, you nod.

“Only a little?”, he asks, kissing your nose and you try to trap in the smile that’s fighting to break through. “Mhmm.”, you hum.

“Well, I’ve got to take care of that.”, he says before holding your face in both of his hands and he leans closer so he can press little feather kisses all over your face. You start giggling, “Harry!”

Bad days and difficult times are part of life. You’re always going to have them. What you’ll always remember is that you have someone in your life that will help you through it. No matter how difficult of a time you are having, Harry will never let you deal with it alone.

“There’s that smile.”, Harry says in success, grinning as he rubs his nose with yours. “I love you so much, y/n.”

“I love you too, H.”

And you love that you get to come home to him.

___________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise @hermionelove

(Please let me know if anyone wants to be added to the taglist!)

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darlingdaisyfarm · 4 months ago

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Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal.

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.”

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.”

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.”

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.”

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls smut #stan pines smut #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stanley pines #stan pines x you #stan pines #stan pines x oc #gravity falls fanfic #gravity falls imagine #grunkle stan

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rikiislvr · 6 months ago

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✧ k. - nishimura riki

pairing: nishimura riki x afab!reader

summary: one wrong slip up, can shatter some hearts.

warnings: cursing

you and niki got into a heated argument, all because you tried to go through his phone for something, and he got really defensive about it.

and you immediately knew he was hiding something from you,

“you always let me look through it!? i don’t understand what changed all of a sudden.” you scoff and cross your arms as you stood from the bed, niki was sitting at the edge, his phone in his pocket as he rubbed his temples.

“just because i won’t let you go through it, means im hiding something?” he shakes his head.

“why can i just.. you never had a problem with it!” you tilt your head, “well i do now. and i don’t want you to look through my phone. now can we just go to sleep now? gosh- ive had a long day and i’m annoyed y/n.”

you scoff at his tone, “i’m good. i don’t wanna sleep in here tonight. i’ll take the couch.” you grab your pillow. “are you serious?” he watched you, you didn’t reply, you just left the room and went to the couch in the living room.

niki got up and followed you, “don’t be like this.” he sighed, “be like what?” you roll your eyes and laid the pillow down,

“you never sleep in here. can you just come to bed?” he pushed his hair back, “no. i’m fine on the couch.” you look at him.

niki was over it. he was frustrated with the day in general, back to back activities for the recent comeback, he didn’t have time to come home to this.

which is exactly why he was going to say something he was gonna regret for the rest of the night…

“you’re being so stubborn. you’re being so annoying all because i won’t let you look through my damn phone y/n?! it sounds like insecurity really..” he shouts suddenly,

you gasp softly, your eyes began to swell with tears as you looked down, niki immediately realized he messed up,

“shit.. no, hey.. i’m-

“i’m leaving.” you push past him and into the bed room, niki was confused at first but caught on what you just said, immediately chasing after you,

“babe..? where are you going?” niki asked, a hint of worry in his voice. you grab your bag, packing whatever you can, “i can’t stay here tonight.” you whisper.

niki walked over to you and grabbed your hands, “no no.. you don’t have to leave, please? i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.. i’ll-

“you don’t have to do anything niki. i’m just gonna go.” you zip up the bag, you walked past him and went to put on your shoes, grabbing your keys from the hook, niki followed after you,

“no baby… please, please don’t go? i’m sorry.. i really am. i don’t know why i even said that… you just.. you can’t go through my phone.” niki looked down, you wiped your eyes.

“it’s fine. i don’t want too anymore anyways.” you shrug and left the apartment door.

once the door shut, niki felt his heart shatter. “shit.. no no no..” he whispered to himself, running both hands down his face,

he knew he messed up.

he just didn’t want you to look through his phone.

not because he was cheating or.. talking to someone else.

it was because he had photos of the ring he wanted to buy to propose to you. and he couldn’t delete it.

and he knew if you seen it, it would spoil the surprise.

but he could’ve came off better with his words, he sighed to himself and sat at the counter in the kitchen, staring off at the wall.

he had to apologize to you,

and he knew the best way to do so.

a/n: this was kinda short but hey it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while, gotta post something! sorry for such a sad draft haha :(

tl: @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay @chaevibes @jiyeons-closet

#enhypen #niki enhypen #nishimura riki #enhypen niki #enhypen fluff #niki x reader #riki nishimura x reader #mae’s works —!

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cressidagrey · 9 days ago

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The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 2

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy, seizures and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

By the time Lizzie heard the knock on her door, she was almost regretting inviting Lando over.

Not because she didn’t want to see him—she did. But because she was still exhausted, her limbs felt like lead, and she hadn’t had the energy to change into anything more presentable than this.

Which was how she found herself standing in front of her door, dressed in sweatpants and a vintage Ferrari hoodie that was older than both of them, trying to summon the will to care.

She pulled the door open, and there he was—Lando Norris, grinning at her like she hadn’t texted him less than 6 hours ago to say, Hey, I had a seizure, so can we not do the fancy restaurant thing?

“Hey,” he said, then his eyes dropped to her hoodie. His expression morphed into pure betrayal. “You—Lizzie.” He pointed. “Is that—is that a Ferrari hoodie?”

She crossed her arms, ignoring the amusement bubbling in her chest. “It was my dad’s.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Lando said, still staring at it like it personally offended him. “It makes it worse. It’s, like, vintage blasphemy.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let him in. “You’re in my apartment. You don’t get to insult my clothes.”

“I absolutely do.”

“You really don’t.”

"You literally live in Woking," Lando said darkly as he stepped into her apartment. "A stone throw away from the MTC!"

Lizzie rolled her eyes once more, closing the door behind him. "And I'm still a Ferrari girl at heart."

Lando groaned, shaking his head. "You're breaking my heart here, you know that?"

"Is now the time to mention that Mara is also named after Ferrari?" she asked with a grin, as he followed her into the kitchen and sat down a grocery bag on the counter.

Lando blinked. "How is Mara named after Ferrari?" he asked her.

"Well, Mara is short for Maranello," Lizzie said brightly.

Lando's mouth fell open. "You have got to be kidding me," he said, staring at her. "Your dog is named after Ferrari headquarters?"

Lizzie just smiled, not even trying to hold back her amusement. "Yep," she said, popping the p on the word.

"First the hoodie, then the dog... what's next, a Vettel tattoo?" Lando asked her with a sigh.

"I mean, I was considering it," Lizzie said, completely deadpan.

For a moment, Lando actually looked worried. "You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."

Lizzie cackled, a deep, full-belly laugh. "Relax, Lando. I'm kidding."

His shoulders sagged. "You're an evil woman. An actual evil woman."

"What is even in there?" she asked with a nod to the grocery bags.

Lando smirked. “Backup nuggets.”

Lizzie frowned. “Backup nuggets?”

“In case yours suck.”

Lizzie snorted. “Wow. True trust issues.”

Lando grinned, but there was something softer behind it. She felt it when he looked at her for just a second too long.

She shoved the nuggets into the oven before he could say anything annoying about it.

"I also brought ice cream. I didn't know what you like..."

"Vanilla," she said immediately.

"Vanilla it is," he agreed. "Where's Mara by the way?"

Lizzie's eyes darted down the hallway. "She's probably passed out in the living room, honestly," she said. "Dad said she barely left my side last night, poor thing. Probably wore herself out."

Lando winced. "I can imagine. Must've been pretty freaked out, huh?"

Lizzie nodded. "She kept licking my face. Apparently they do that to wake you up when you have a seizure."

For a moment, his gaze softened, and he looked at her thoughtfully. "You don't get hurt, right? When you have a seizure, I mean."

"Generally, no," Lizzie said, "I might accidentally bite my tongue, and I'm usually sore and tired after, but I don't get hurt."

Lando nodded, but she could see the concern still lingering on his face. "But you're okay now?" he asked quietly.

Lizzie managed to bite back her smile. "I'm fine, Lando. I promise. This really is normal for me."

His head dipped. "You're sure?"

She softened, touched by the worry in his voice. "I'm sure," she said gently. "No need to look so serious, pretty boy."

“Excuse me, I’m not pretty.” He objected with a disgusted expression.

Lizzie snorted. “Yeah, you aren’t if you pull a face like that.” She shot back immediately.

“Excuse me, that’s not very nice!”

“Mate, make up your mind,” Lizzie said with a snort. “I say you are pretty, you disagree. I say you aren’t, you also disagree. What are you then?”

“I am ruggedly handsome,” he told her seriously.

She could only stare at him.

“If you somehow manage to grow a beard, then, maybe. But with that clean-shaven look you have going on right now? Not in a million years. You’re pretty, and that’s that.”

Lando's eyes widened, taken aback. "Did you just—" he spluttered. "Did you just insult my ability to grow facial hair and then go and call me pretty in the same breath?"

"I absolutely did," Lizzie said, barely able to hold back her grin. "What are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?"

What she hadn't expected was for him to advance and corner her against her kitchen counter.

She froze, eyes wide, her heart suddenly thumping in her chest. Lando planted one hand on either side of the counter, caging her in.

He leaned in, his face inches from hers, expression still tinged with faux offense.

And his eyes...she could spent a whole book describing their colour and Lizzie was quite sure that it was going to fall short. Even in the dim light of her kitchen, they shifted from blue to green and back.

The intensity of his gaze was almost unbearable. Lizzie's mind went completely blank, and she found herself staring at him, a flutter of nervous energy coursing through her like electricity.

Lando was so close now that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. She was suddenly hyper-aware of every nerve in her body, like this new, intimate proximity had set her senses on fire.

Lizzie wasn't even sure who moved first.

All she knew was that suddenly, his lips were on hers. The kiss started gently, almost tentatively. But something shifted in an instant.

It became hungrier, more desperate, like a dam had burst. Lizzie couldn't help herself; her arms wrapped around Lando's shoulders and pulled him closer, every part of her body pressed against his.

One of his hands threaded into her hair, angling her head to get better access, and she made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat. Her fingers curled into the soft cotton of his shirt, clutching at it as she kissed him back, dizzy with the feel of him.

Oh.

Lando groaned, the sound reverberating through her. His free hand slid beneath her hoodie, seeking out the bare skin of her waist.

Her own hands moved over his back, desperate and urgent. The kiss turned hotter, less controlled as her world narrowed to this, to him, to the intoxicating feeling of his body against hers.

And then the sound of the oven timer beeped. Loudly. She jerked in his grasp, managing to make one of her cookbooks clatter down onto the floor.

A second later, Mara was barelling into the room, clearly thinking that she had had a seizure and destroyed her house.

Lizzie and Lando sprung apart, both of them flushed and more than a little breathless.

Lizzie couldn’t help it; she burst into a fit of giggles, watching Mara skid across the linoleum.

"I'm fine, Mara," she said through her laughter. Her dog whined, clearly not convinced.

Lando was looking like a deer in headlights, his cheeks flushed and his hair messed up from her fingers. He stared at her as if he'd never seen her before, and she bit her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot.

"We should rescue the dino nuggets," Lizzie suggested.

Lando still looked stunned. "Right - yeah - nuggets-" he said, blinking.

Lizzie chuckled and knelt down to pat Mara to reassure her. The dog was practically whining with worry, licking her face and nudging her. Lizzie gently pushed her back in an attempt to give herself some space.

"I think you traumatized my dog," she said, looking up at him with a smirk.

He scratched the back of his head, still endearingly awkward. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't exactly...thinking when..."

She just shook her head, grinning. "Maybe we should focus on rescuing those dino nuggets, don't you think, pretty boy?"

He swallowed, glancing at her briefly before nodding. "Yeah. Nuggets."

Lizzie pushed herself off the floor, giving Mara's head a final pat before she headed over to the oven. Lando joined her in the kitchen, his gaze flickering to her every other second. Lizzie took the plate from the oven, setting it down on the stove top.

"They look fine," she said, inspecting the slightly-singed edges of the nuggets. "All things considered."

Lando leaned against the counter beside her. "Great," he said, but his voice was still a little unsteady.

She shot him a sideways glance, amused by the way his gaze kept dropping to her mouth.

"Was that..." he trailed off and she watched to see a slight blush cover his cheeks.

"What?" she asked, hiding a smile. He was even more adorable when he was embarrassed.

He cleared his throat, looking vaguely flustered. "That was okay, right?"

And just like that, her own cheeks grew warm. They'd just made out in her kitchen, and now he was asking her if... if it was okay?

She studied him, taking in the pink hue on his face. There was something so vulnerable about the way he was looking at her. It was like he couldn't believe it had happened, and now he was scared he had overstepped.

"It was..." she began, only stopping to consider her words."...pretty incredible."

Relief flickered across Lando's face. "Yeah?" he said, a hint of the cocky demeanor returning. "You liked it, then?"

In response, Lizzie just rolled her eyes, pushing the plate of dino nuggets towards him to end the conversation before he could say anything else.

"Try a damn nugget."

Lando raised an eyebrow, but his smile grew even wider as he picked up a nugget from the plate. "Bossy."

She just rolled her eyes again, biting back a laugh. "Eat your nugget before I regret telling you that I liked it."

He chuckled and popped the nugget into his mouth. "Not bad," he said, still grinning.

Lizzie found herself returning the smile. He was impossible.

But then again, she thought as she looked at him, she supposed she wouldn't want him any other way.

"Let's take this to the living room," she suggested.

"So is there even more Ferrari merch there?" Lando asked her. She just rolled her eyes.

"Not Ferrari merch, no," she said drily. “I keep that in the bedroom.” Lando gave a squawk in response. She just laughed.

Did her living room kinda look like the set of a fantasy movie had thrown up all over it? Yes.

She had a near life size portrait of Astrid and Ciaran, the main characters of her book series hung over her fireplace, which an amazingly talented fan artist had painted and she had purchased.

Lando was staring at the portrait with something close to amusement. He turned to her, eyebrow raised. "Okay, so who is that guy, and why does he have bat wings?"

Lizzie sighed, taking a seat on the large couch that dominated the room. "That would be Ciaran. Bat wings and all."

Lando took a seat beside her, still eyeing the portrait suspiciously. "And who exactly is Ciaran supposed to be?"

"He is the Dark Prince...The Heir to the throne of the land of Kasharia," she said with a wave of her hand. "He's the love interest in the Seasons of Fate Series."

Lando's eyebrows shot up, turning back to the portrait, studying it with more interest this time. "And the Wings are his thing, I'm guessing? Makes him the 'Dark Prince'?"

Lizzie bit her lip to keep a laugh from escaping. "Basically."

"Right, right." He was nodding now. "What about the woman, then? Blondie with the dagger?"

Lizzie found herself smiling, remembering the story behind that particular piece of art. "That would be Astrid," she said.

Lando looked like he was starting to put pieces together. He leaned back on the couch, eyes on the portrait once more. "And Astrid is, what? The princess or something?"

"She's a handmaiden of the Princess of another kingdom he's supposed to marry," she explained with a wave of her hand. "She ends up married to Ciaran instead."

Lando was nodding along as Lizzie described it, a look of fascination on his face. "Oh, so it's like one of those forbidden romance deals, huh?" he asked, sounding surprisingly invested.

"In a sense, yeah," she agreed, finding herself amused by his interest. "You seem surprisingly interested in this, considering you thought the wings were over the top a minute ago."

Lando shot her a look, his eyes twinkling. "Hey, I can appreciate a good love story, can't I? Besides, million of people adore your books. There must be something pretty special about them."

Lizzie felt a surge of warmth in her chest at his words. It still surprised her, at times, how much her books meant to people.

"I don't know about that, but people seem to enjoy them," she said lightly. "Still thinking you are going to pick one up?" she teased him with a grin.

"It’s probably gonna take me two months to get through the first book, between my schedule and my dyslexia, but the bat wings have totally sold it," Lando told her seriously.

She couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. The idea of Lando, who was about as far from a fantasy fan as you could get, actually trying to read one of her books was too absurd. "You are absolutely not going to read one of my books," she said, grinning.

"Hey, I could!" he objected with mock offense. "Don't underestimate me."

Lizzie shook her head, still laughing. "I'm not underestimating you. But let's be honest, you've got better things to do with your time than read about bat winged princes and handmaiden."

"Don't you have better things to do than too watch 20 men in their cars drive around in wobbly circles?" he shot right back. "You created these books. You poured your time and energy into them. I don't think there are many things that are more important than that."

Lizzie fell silent, taken off guard by his words. He had a point, she thought.

"I suppose you have a point there," she admitted quietly.

Lando seemed pleased with himself, his cocky demeanor falling back into place. "See? I do have some smarts in there."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the smile off her face. "You are insufferable, you know that? Besides, what's with your job," she teased him. "Isn't Miami coming up?"

Lando just snorted. "Yeah, we are all looking forward to hear the Dutch national anthem. Again."

Lizzie chuckled, picturing the familiar sight of the podium at a Grand Prix - the winning driver and the Dutch and Austrian anthems playing. "You are so dramatic. Maybe you'll win in Miami."

He gave her a look, his expression clearly communicating that he thought her words were ridiculous. "Uh-huh. You obviously don't know my luck. Second place is basically my second name."

Lizzie laughed, finding his complaining endearing despite herself. "You sound like Mara when I have a treat, but don't give it to her. Stop whining. Second place is still impressive as all hell, you know that right?"

Mara perked up at the mention of her name and took that moment to jump up on the couch, and once again, not caring at all about personal space, just drape herself all over Lando.

Lando looked startled, his gaze flying down to where Mara was settling onto his lap. "Uh..." he said, his voice full of confusion.

Lizzie tried not to crack a smile at the way he looked like he'd never encountered a dog before. Mara, meanwhile, looked incredibly pleased with herself.

Lando looked up at Lizzie, his expression a comical mix of disbelief and alarm. "What...what is she doing?" he asked, clearly bewildered.

Lizzie couldn't help herself; she burst out laughing. "She likes you," she managed to say through her mirth. "Clearly a woman of excellent taste."

Lando gave her a dubious look, clearly not sure if he was being insulted or not. Then Mara shifted in his lap and let out a happy sigh, and he looked back down at her. Lizzie could see the exact moment he melted. No man was immune to dogs.

"I'll go against my core beliefs and root for the ugly orange car with your number on it if you promise me that you'll believe that you have a chance of winning."

Lando shot her a look, a little surprised at her request. Then his familiar cocky smirk spread across his face.

"You'll root for papaya? Over Ferrari?"

Lizzie just nodded. "As long as that big ego of yours lets you believe you can win," she said dryly.

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wikiangela · 2 months ago

Text

I'll be spending all Christmases with you

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: first [insert winter holiday/tradition] together

rated: G

word count: 3.1k

[also on Ao3]

Buck shows up at Tommy’s house right after his shift ends, comes in without knocking – Tommy doesn’t seem to mind, always just smiling fondly in response – kicks off his shoes and drops his duffel bag next to them, and goes straight to the kitchen, two full grocery bags in hands. “You’re off on Christmas, right?” Buck asks in lieu of a greeting as he walks into the kitchen, where he knows Tommy is, based on the amazing smells and the sounds of cooking and music playing quietly. “Hey, honey, how was your day?” Tommy answers, amused, from where he’s stirring in a pot on the stove. He eyes the bags Buck brought and put on the counter, but doesn’t say anything yet. “Mine was fine, a little boring, I missed you.” “Yeah, yeah, okay, hi, I missed you, too.” Buck rolls his eyes as he walks over to Tommy to kiss him sweetly. “So, you’re not working on Christmas?” “No, for once I’m not.” Tommy turns towards Buck, holding up a spoon with sauce on it to his lips. “Try it?” “Mmmm.” Buck exclaims when he takes the spoon into his lips. “So good.” Tommy smiles in response, turns to put the spoon away and lower the heat. “I was thinking of taking overtime, though.” “What? When?” “On Christmas.” Tommy shrugs, but he’s not looking at Buck, apparently deciding it’s time to start cleaning the mess he made while cooking. “Why?” Buck frowns. “Well, I don’t have plans. When I’m off on Christmas, I usually take overtime so someone who actually has a family can take a day off.” His tone is carefully neutral, and if Buck didn’t know him any better, he might've missed the note of sadness. He tries to turn away to the sink, which is full of dishes he’s used. But before he can fully turn, Buck grabs his waist and brings him closer to himself, Tommy’s back against Buck’s chest. “Baby, you do have plans.” Buck whispers in his ear, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It breaks his heart to think that this amazing man has been spending all his holidays working, because he didn’t have someone to spend it with. That’s about to change. If Buck has it his way, Tommy will always have a family to celebrate any and all holidays with. Buck is his family now, and he needs Tommy to finally believe that. “We’re spending our first Christmas together, I thought that was obvious.” “Oh. I thought- I know I got an invite for Christmas Eve dinner at your firehouse, but I thought the actual holiday-” “You thought wrong.” Buck interrupts, easily turning Tommy to face him. “Maddie invited us for dinner at their place on Christmas.”

“As in, us both?” Tommy asks, skeptical. Whoever hurt him in his life to make him think he’s so undeserving of love and affection and people actually wanting him around and to spend time with him – Buck wants to kick their asses.

“Yes, us both,” he rolls his eyes. “What, you think I’m gonna drag you along uninvited?”

“And you- you want me to go?” Tommy asks, frowning, as if confused. Buck really is about to ask for a list of everyone who ever wronged him. He’s never seen his boyfriend this doubtful and insecure, not this outwardly before.

“Tommy. Why on earth wouldn’t I want you to go?” He asks incredulously.

“I don’t know. It’s a family thing, right?” Tommy looks down, cheeks pink.

“Yeah. And you’re a part of this family now. You know that, right?” Buck asks, reaches out to grab Tommy’s chin and make him look him in the eyes. There’s a panicked look in his eyes when he does. “It’s important to me that you know that. The 118, Maddie and Chim and Jee, me. I’m your family, if you let me. And you’re gonna let me, too late to back out now,” he adds teasingly, mostly a joke, and it does get Tommy to chuckle. But he’s more serious than he’s letting on. Tommy has his whole heart by now. Buck wants him forever, wants everything with him, wants to move in together, wants to get married, have kids, get a dog – just everything. He wants to grow old together, wants to- he wants to share Christmas traditions and start new ones, just theirs, and continue them for years and years and years. He thinks it’s too much to say just yet, too scary even for him sometimes, the intensity and enormousness of those feelings almost overwhelming at times.

“Oh.” Tommy blinks. “I- Okay. I mean, if they won’t mind me joining-”

“Again,” Buck interrupts, “we all want you there. So, are you coming with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He breathes out, as if he still has trouble believing he’s being included. “God, sorry.” Tommy groans, buries his face in Buck’s neck. “I just- I’ve never spent Christmas with a partner before. It feels- big. And I guess I’m panicking a little bit.” His voice is muffled by Buck’s skin, his arms clinging to Buck’s back.

“That’s okay. I get it, it does feel big. We can panic together,” he runs a soothing hand down Tommy’s back, and feels him chuckle, and then press a soft kiss to the side of Buck’s neck. He’s just glad Tommy’s not running away, that Buck didn’t scare him off with all the family talk. He tends to go all in too soon, and sometimes, usually, it doesn’t work out well. But Tommy’s still here, telling him he’s panicking, communicating, so they can get through any freak outs together. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Tommy pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m fine. Just took me off guard. I’d love to spend Christmas with you and the Hans.”

“Great.” Buck grins.

“So, what’s that?” Tommy nods his head in the direction of the grocery bags.

“Oh!” Buck lets Tommy go and goes to start unpacking the bags, pulling out all the ingredients he bought. There are too many kinds of flour, a lot of chocolate chips, sprinkles, sugar – to name a few. “We’re gonna make Christmas cookies.”

“It’s a month until Christmas, sweetheart.” Tommy chuckles.

“I know that. We need to try out different recipes, though. I found a few and I’m not sure which one we’ll like best.” He says, feeling Tommy’s gaze on him as he pulls out everything out of the bag. “I used to always bake cookies with Maddie on Christmas Eve. My parents weren’t really in the holiday spirit, like, ever, and it makes sense now, but, you know.” He shrugs. He told Tommy his family history, his family secret, they shared bits and pieces about their lives by now. Tommy gets it. “Anyway, I figured, since it’s our first Christmas, of many,” he adds, looking back at Tommy expecting panic in his face, and there are traces of it still, but mostly he looks fond, hopeful, “we could share some traditions, and maybe do something new. I wanted a new recipe, though, something that we choose together.”

“Really? We’re gonna bake a crazy amount of cookies just so we can decide on a recipe together?” Tommy asks, and when Buck turns towards him, he’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“I know it’s silly, okay?” Buck rolls his eyes. “But I want it to be perfect, and I want it to be our thing.”

“Okay.” Tommy smiles, that fond smile of his on his face. “You’re adorable.” He adds, and Buck grins, feeling heat in his cheeks. He’ll never get used to compliments from Tommy, they always make him feel so giddy inside. Tommy makes him feel that way. Like he’s floating in the clouds. And at the same time, like he’s the most grounded he’s ever been, like he can finally put down his roots somewhere. He can really finally see himself doing that. He sees forever in Tommy’s eyes, in his crinkling smile. “When do you wanna start?”

“We can make the first batch after dinner.” Buck shrugs. “If you’re not tired."

“I’m not the one who just finished a shift an hour ago.” Tommy chuckles. “If you’re not tired, sure, let’s do it.” Tommy says, then turns to check on dinner, while Buck starts putting all the groceries away exactly in places they should be – well, he’s rearranged some things since they started dating, but Tommy says he got used to it and likes it better this way. One time he said he likes his space being so full of Buck. It was so sweet Buck kissed him about it, and then had to suck him off about it right there in the kitchen.

“So,” Buck starts after a moment of silence, only quiet music playing, “you got any traditions you wanna do?” He asks, not wanting to do just his own traditions. It’s supposed to be their first holiday together, he wants to incorporate both of their traditions, and merge them, and maybe one day they’ll transform into something else or get replaced by things they come up with together. But that’s years down the line, and they gotta start somewhere.

“Uh, we didn’t actually do much for Christmas.” Tommy says, and when Buck looks at him, he sees a sad smile on his face, as he starts to plate their food. “When I was little, maybe. I remember having a tree, but not much more.” He pauses, thinking. “I mean, one thing I do remember, pretty vividly, is this thing I used to do with my mom, before she died,” he sighs, turns to Buck, but doesn’t look him in the eye, gaze somewhere on the floor. “We used to take those walks around the neighborhood and watch how people decorated their houses. We used to compare and judge them like it’s some kind of competition.” He laughs, a faraway look on his face, like he’s back in time, with his mom, in those happy memories. “It was so much fun, those are some of my favorite Christmas memories,” he admits.

“That sounds nice.” Buck says quietly, abandoning the groceries to walk closer to Tommy, leans against the counter next to him.

“It really was. But then after she died-” his face drops, he swallows hard and audibly, “we stopped doing Christmas at all. My dad- he was never the same without her. He was never particularly great, but after she was gone, it all became worse.” He shakes his head. Buck’s heard some stories already, he has a pretty good idea of what Tommy means. “One year I got some old Christmas lights from the attic and put them in my room. I just wanted some Christmas spirit, you know? Feel closer to my mom again, in a way, she loved Christmas. But I got chewed out for that. So I just- I stopped celebrating as well.” He shrugs, looks up at Buck. “Anyway, sorry, my point is, watching people’s decorations was one of my favorite things to do during the holidays,” he cracks a smile, trying to shrug off all the sadness in his face, not show how it’s still affecting him. Buck can’t help himself, he wraps his arms around Tommy and just holds him. Tommy sighs, slumps against him.

“Okay,” Buck whispers, “so we’ll do that this year, if you want to. We’ll go for a walk and judge people’s houses after dinner,” he says and hears Tommy laugh.

“Sounds good,” Tommy pulls away, a grateful smile on his face.

“And we need to decorate the house, too. And we need a tree!” Buck exclaims, already doing mental inventory of every piece of decorations he has, and everything they need to buy. “We can put it in the corner next to the TV. Or move the armchair and-” He tries to move away to walk to the living room and start planning, but Tommy grabs his hand and stops him. He vaguely registers that he’s talking about Tommy’s house like it’s theirs, but when he looks at Tommy, he doesn’t see the panic anymore. There’s a fond smile on his face.

“Let’s eat dinner first, okay? And then we can start planning.”

“Okay.” Buck smiles sheepishly. They each grab a plate and go to sit down at the small table by the wall.

They get to eating, talking about their days, their ankles intertwined under the table. It’s always so easy with Tommy, getting lost in conversation, topics never ending. Tommy always gives him his undivided attention, listening intently with the fondest smile, even when Buck goes on a tangent about something totally silly and unrelated. Also, Buck just loves this part of the day, he doesn’t think he’s had that in a while. This – coming home to a person he loves, talking about their day, having them genuinely interested and truly get it – and hear about their day, their job, everything they’ve done on their day off. Just having someone to come home to. He loves this part.

“So, here’s the plan,” Buck starts about halfway through dinner, getting back on topic, “we’re gonna make cookies a few days before, and then on Christmas we’re gonna have dinner at Maddie’s, watch Jee open presents. We’re gonna be the coolest uncles and spoil her by getting her every single thing she asked for, by the way.” He adds casually, noting Tommy’s eyes widen at the mention of ‘uncles’ plural. One day Buck will make him believe he’s a part of this family now. He’s an uncle now, whether he likes it or not. It’s not even because of Buck – last time he was at Maddie’s, Jee asked him, verbatim, where uncle Tommy is. “I have a list, and I’m gonna need your help.”

“Okay.” Tommy whispers, an awed expression on his face. Like he still can’t quite believe Buck means it.

“We’re also gonna kiss under every mistletoe branch in Maddie and Chim’s house,” Buck continues, “and trust me, there’s gonna be a lot.” He grins. He always finds it ridiculous and kind of sweet how Chim goes overboard on mistletoe just to have a cute excuse to kiss his wife at any opportunity, as if he couldn’t do that anyway. “And then we’ll go for a walk together and judge people’s houses. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.” Tommy says, that fond smile back on his face. “I can’t wait.”

“And-” Buck hesitates, but then decides to just go for it, hoping he won’t scare Tommy away. “Maybe next year, or whenever we move in together, we can host.”

“Next year?” Tommy raises his eyebrows, his voice shaking slightly. God, maybe that was too much, Buck just freaked him out. “Move in?”

“Sorry.” Buck shakes his head. “I know this is a lot and too fast, but- but I’m sure of this, of us, of my feelings for you. And I know I want us to spend the next Christmas together. And the next, and the next, and all the holidays after that.” He says, confident and sure, watching Tommy’s face shift between panic and affection. “But we can talk about it when time comes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“No, no, I’m not- okay, maybe I am a little bit.” Tommy chuckles, raises his arm to scratch at the nape of his neck, like he does when he’s nervous. “I’m just surprised. And I- I want that so bad, Evan, I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s just- let’s take it one day at a time for now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Buck smiles. “Whatever you want.” He swallows the three little words that have been threatening to spill for weeks now. He’ll say it soon. It’s not time yet, he’s already scaring Tommy enough with his plans for the future. They have time. Buck’s not going anywhere, he’ll be here and he’ll make it work. Maybe he needs to slow down a little, match Tommy’s pace better, he can do that. But there’s no doubt in his mind that Tommy is his forever.

It’s a few days before Christmas that they make cookies in Tommy’s kitchen, having settled on a recipe after a few tries. Tommy puts on some Christmas music and sings off-key and sways a little as he kneads the dough. Buck stands beside him, watches him with a soft smile, as he’s cutting out cookies from the first portion of dough. Tommy has flour on his nose and cheek, a happy smile on his face, and that sparkle in his eye that Buck’s not sure he’s seen before. He thinks Tommy’s getting his love for Christmas back. There’s a huge tree in the living room, dressed up in so many decorations and lights, a mountain of presents already under it, most for his niece. The entire front yard is brightly lit by lights around the trees, along the fence, a big, lit up Santa, and some other knicknacks they accumulated in the past few weeks. There’s hot cocoa in mugs on the counter, a Christmas movie waiting for them to finish the cookies, and cosy blankets spread out on the couch. It feels festive and warm, and like home and family. Buck’s never been happier, and he’s never seen Tommy happier, either.

In a few days they’ll go spend Christmas with Buck’s sister and brother-in-law and niece, and a few days after that he’ll welcome the new year by kissing Tommy, ensuring that he’ll spend the next year kissing him, too – if someone believes in superstitions and sometimes Buck really does. He thinks the holidays this year are the best in his life. And he can’t wait to see how much better it’s gonna get each year he gets to do this with Tommy.

But for now, they bake cookies, and once they’re in the oven, Buck grabs Tommy's hand and turns up the music, and they dance in the kitchen, among the mess, covered in flour and dough, badly singing along to Christmas music and stepping on each other’s toes, and laughing, and it’s absolutely perfect.

They dance to Christmas songs and make a mess while baking cookies, followed by a Christmas movie marathon with hot cocoa for years to come – when they move in together, when two matching rings show up on their fingers, when a set of tiny footsteps and helper hands joins them a few years later, and then another one. It becomes Buck’s favorite thing about the holidays – his family, warmth, laughter, love. His heart is so full. It can’t get better than this.

[also on Ao3]

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neowonderland · 29 days ago

Text

Roommates || l.jn, n.jm

Based off the yummy ask/post by @revehae with roommates! nomin but you’re aware Jaemin and Jeno are dating and they don’t really give you a choice to join them… Summary: You must be misinterpreting the looks Jeno sends your way, after all your two roommates, Jeno and Jaemin, are dating. Right? Pairings: Roommates! Nomin x reader Warnings: 18+, smut, noncon, choking, man handling(?), hard dom Jeno, soft dom Jaemin, mxm Note: Reader is referred to as "Princess" but is otherwise gender neutral Wc: 1.3k

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

It has to be all in your head.

You swear you’ve imagined the looks of pure hunger Jeno gives you when you’ve walked around the apartment in your baggy shirts and tiny shorts. You must’ve imagined it as he stared you down, eyes zoned in on the swells of your body or any revealed skin. You must’ve imagined his stiff length through the flimsy fabric of his basketball shorts as he caged you into the kitchen counter, your back against his chest, his arm stretched to get a bowl from the top cabinet.

Yes, that has to be the case. After all, your two roommates, Jeno and Jaemin, are dating each other. They’re in a happy, healthy, committed relationship. They compliment each other so well, each having their own roles and routines. Jaemin cooks, Jeno does the dishes. Jeno makes the popcorn, Jaemin picks the movie. They even have their own inside jokes and their own sense of humor, cracking little jokes to each other that you’ll never understand.

You don’t mind your two roommates dating, really. They don’t ever make your problem. Besides, it makes you feel a little secure that the two men you’re living with would never be attracted to you. They would never do anything to you, right?

You find out the hard way that you’re dead wrong.

When you stumble across Jaemin propped up on his arms, chest heaving and cheeks flushed, length enclosed in Jeno’s hands, Jeno only gives you the choice to join.

“Sorry” spills from your lips as you avert your eyes while trying to shut the door and dash away, trying not to intrude on this intimate moment. But Jeno’s fast, his movements quicker than yours as he makes his way towards you, one hand opening the door wider while another pulls you into his and Jaemin’s room.

“You’re always so rough, Jeno! Be gentle with them,” Jaemin remarks with a laugh as Jeno slams the door shut and drags you to where Jaemin is lounging on the bed. Jeno forces you to kneel on the bed, locking both your wrists behind your back. You’re trapped between them, Jeno behind you with an iron grip on your wrist, while Jaemin gets up to face you.

“Poor Princess, isn’t our Jeno so mean?” Jaemin coos, squishing your cheeks and peppering kisses on your face. You grimace and try to pull away from him which earns you a warning squeeze on your wrists from Jeno. You still immediately, eyebrows still creased in disgust and confusion as Jaemin continues to pepper kisses on your face.

“Jeno, let’s have our Princess finish me off? I want to feel their hands around me,” Jaemin says, leaning back onto the bed.

Jeno lets out a grunt in agreement, kissing the back of your neck before moving up to the shell of your ear to whisper, “Don’t try anything funny.”

Jeno releases your wrists and pushes you towards Jaemin. His eyes are still on you as you reluctantly crawl forward to settle in between Jaemin’s legs. You glance into Jaemin’s eyes, and try to plead with him to let you go. You tell him that he and Jeno don’t need you, that they could always find someone else other than you. But it’s futile as Jaemin smiles and shakes his head, clicking his tongue as he grabs your hand, bringing your smaller hand to wrap around his leaking length.

“Go on, you know what to do,” Jaemin says smoothly.

You hesitantly begin moving your hands up and down his length, pearls of precum trickling down his tip and flowing onto your hands, making them sticky. You can feel Jeno’s chest press against your back, his lips attaching to your neck and trailing kisses down. He tugs at the sleeve of your shirt, exposing your collarbone and part of your back. You try to ignore everything that’s happening, trying to ignore Jeno’s body pressed against you, trying to ignore the feel of Jeno’s slightly chapped lips against your skin, trying to ignore the gross stickiness of your hands wrapped around Jaemin, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Come on, look at Nana,” Jaemin coos, leaning forward and tapping your cheek.

You bite the inside of your cheek and raise your head, making eye contact with Jaemin as you speed up your pace. Jaemin’s pupils are blown wide with lust as he stares back at you, sweat beads on his forehead, dripping down his neck. Jaemin’s picture-esque, the example of a Greek statue with his toned, beautifully sculpted body, glistening with a light sheen of sweet. It isn’t long until you feel him harshly thrust into your hands before letting out a moan and cumming, his releasing dripping down his length and staining your hand.

You try not to let your disgust show as you quickly wipe your hands on the mattress before attempting to get down and leave, only for Jeno to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you back down.

“I’m not done yet,” Jeno says as pushes you on your back, flat on the bed.

Dread pools into the pit of your stomach as Jeno forces your legs open and crawls on top of you.

“Jeno, aren’t you tired? Why don’t we make them help you?” Jaemin chimes in, running his hands through your hair.

Your blood runs cold.

Jeno lets out a hum, before sitting up. Jeno leans back against the headboard and crosses his arms, his thick biceps bulging.

“Get up and take your clothes off, quickly,” Jeno orders. You obey, shedding your clothes as fast as you can in order to not irritate Jeno.

Jaemin settles behind you, with you in between his legs. You’re pressed flush against his chest with his hand wrapped around your waist. Now, you’re basically straddling Jeno too, his throbbing length leaking against your naval. You hear Jaemin grab something from the bedside table and pop open a lid. You briefly close your eyes and pray it’s just for another handjob.

You hear Jeno grumble and Jaemin repeating “okays” before Jaemin is rubbing his lube-slicked fingers over your sex and Jeno’s length. It’s brief and he doesn’t go any further than coating your sex in lube before you can feel both his hands on your waist, fingers digging into your flesh, lifting you up and impaling on Jeno’s length.

You let out a shrill screech in surprise and pain, and you can feel Jaemin wince behind you. You struggle against Jaemin, fighting against him as you try to get off Jeno.

If you weren’t crying before, you definitely were now. Large tears rolling down your face as you scream in pain, begging for Jeno and Jaemin to stop. It’s hard to see Jeno’s face with your tears blurring your vision but Jeno doesn’t seem very happy. Jeno’s eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance as he tongues the inside of his cheek, and the glare he sends you is downright threatening.

“Shut up. Stop whining,” Jeno seethes, hands wrapping around your throat and squeezing harshly. Your hands claw at Jeno’s arms, your fingernails digging into his skin and leaving bright red, angry scratch marks in its wake. Black spots dot your vision until all you can see is black. You’re gasping for air now, your hands falling slack to your sides. You swear you can hear some words being said in the background, but everything sounds so garbled and far away.

Jeno suddenly releases you and you gasp for air, collapsing backwards onto Jaemin, who tries to comfort you by stroking your hair. You swear oxygen has never tasted so sweet in this moment as you try to breathe in as much air as possible. You can slowly see your vision fade in as you tremble against Jaemin.

“See, that’s what happens when you don’t behave,” Jaemin says as he shoves you towards Jeno.

“Now ride him, Princess. You don’t want to get bruised up again, do you?”

#tw: noncon #tw: choking #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream smut #nct smut #dark nct #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin hard hours #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #jeno hard thoughts #jeno hard hours #poly! nomin

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