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beachbxtchforev · 7 months ago

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I’m Wearing UNC Blue for Him

after you support Rafe at his big game, he shows his appreciation for you on the way home.

pairing: basketballplayer!Rafe x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: 18+, fingering, slow burn, some curse words, use of “baby”

1:37 left on the clock. the Heels lead the Huskies 78-72. Connecticut possession.

this was one of Rafe’s biggest games of the season. going against last year’s NCAA conference champs, UNC needs to pull off this win to secure a top bracket position. the roar of Chapel Hill was mind numbing, your ears were ringing from the chanting that surrounded you. today, you opted to sit with the Cameron’s instead of cheering from the student section because they often secured seats closer to the court. you wanted to be able to see Rafe up close, maybe even give him a glimpse of you showing your support for extra motivation.

the ball is thrown in from the sideline, making its way up the court towards UConn’s basket. their player goes for a layup and makes it. 78-74. 1:24. Kelce checks the ball to Rafe, with the two of them making their way back towards their hoop. UConn’s impressive defense forces the ball to be passed until Rafe can make his way into the paint. he once again gets the ball and is quickly fouled. just as you expected. you hate when the game is close in the end with both teams doing whatever it takes to prevent points.

you stand for Rafe’s free-throws, thumb nail up to your mouth out of habit, feeling the stress of 20,000 fans watching his every move. he bounces the ball, shoots, and sinks it. thank god, now just do it again. and he does. 80-74. 1:10.

the minute left of game play really takes ten, anxiety seeping into your every move. Rafe has the ball with four seconds left, taking a shot from the 3 point line. its in! the Heels win!

you fly out of your seat, hands reaching the air, quickly turning to Sarah at your side to embrace out of relief. Ward high fives you as Rose’s smile beams.

Rafe always takes a while to join the group after a game, especially one as big as tonight’s. when he comes out of the locker room you are so excited to see him that you run to jump into his arms. “you did it baby! im so proud of you,” you exclaim as you wrap your legs around his torso. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, pecking the side of your head.

once he lets you go, he shares moments with each of his family members and you walk hand in hand out of the facility.

a winning game day is always your favorite because it ensures a good mood from your boyfriend for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe that last shot you made, you just had to rub the win in their face babe?” you jokingly question as he opens the passenger door to his truck for you.

“what can I say, im tryin to make some noise in prep for the tourney, baby. plus I really want to start getting NBA scouts’ attention.”

you watch as he rounds the front of the truck to get in.“well you got my attention, that’s for sure.” you smile at him, leaning over the center console to give him a peck on the mouth.

putting the car in drive, you guys head back towards his apartment. Drake plays through his speakers as you look out the window at your beautiful campus lit up by the moon. you’re pulled out of your trance by Rafe’s hand reaching out for your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. just like you predicted, he’s in a good mood from his win, so you might as well let him bask in it.

you’re wearing just a UNC vintage pullover that you stole from Rafe and some jean shorts, which you feel his hand working towards. biting your lip and sneaking a glance at him, you decide to unbutton the denim and slide it down your legs, revealing your lacey thong to the darkness of the truck. Rafe’s hand moves higher, grazing over the fabric of your shorts to meet the now bare skin of your hip, while his left hand controls the wheel. you let out a gasp when his fingers dip into the top of your panties, grazing your slit.

his actions are followed by a whimper from your mouth, already feeling yourself getting soaked. however, you have been turned on since you saw him in his Heel blue jersey on the court. his fingers apply pressure, finding your clit and moving in circles. your legs spread, giving him better access as he multitasks his way into giving you and orgasm. what can’t this man do?

“Rafey, inside me. please” you beg, wanting to feel his fingers.

“ya baby? want to get fucked by my fingers? huh?” he teases as he continues to maneuver the truck through the emptying streets.

“y-yes! yes, pl-“ your words are cut off my your own moan as Rafe’s middle and ring finger thrust into your entrance. he too groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers, blood rushing to his cock.

his fingers move in and out, working you open. he adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm can apply pressure to your clit while his fingers work your hole, warmth invading them. he adds a curling motion to his thrusts, finding the spot that almost always has you cumming.

“shit y/n. squeezing my fingers baby? you gonna cum?”

“please Rafe! im so close,” you moan out. band in your stomach ready to snap.

as soon as he turns the truck into the parking garage, fingers moving rapidly, you release, wetness coating his hand, your heavy breaths filling the cab. after a couple more pumps, he removes his fingers from you and slides them between his lips, collecting your juices. you turn your head to face him, hair slightly disheveled and sticking to your forehead.

“you taste so good baby,” he says, as he takes his fingers out of his mouth and tucks a misplaced piece of hair behind your ear.

leaning over to give you a needy kiss, he grasps your wrist, pulling your hand to feel his hardened cock.

“now how about we go upstairs and you give me a three celebratory rounds for that 3 pointer that impressed you so much?

let me know what you think ✨

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe outerbanks #rafe smut #outer banks #rafe cameron edits #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #basketball #drew starkey smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months ago

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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angelwhisp3rs · 10 months ago

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∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass.

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?”

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months.

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up.

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed.

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure.

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up.

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him.

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed.

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure, busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #infinite darkness #leon kennedy infinite darkness

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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The Younger Kind Part 37 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realized on the way to the lake house that he hadn't taken a vacation in years, but he already knew he was going to want to go on so many more with you and Noah. And you weren't going to let Bradley get away with an omission of precious information. In fact, you had several things to surprise him with as a result.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

The next morning while you made breakfast for yourself and your boys, you could hear Bradley on the phone in the living room. You stopped mixing up the bowl of pancake batter just in time to hear him say, "Hey Tracy, can you go ahead and finalize that updated copy of my will?" There was a short pause, and then he said, "Right, but if any assets need to be combined later, we can discuss it then. We can both come in and meet with you."

You wondered if he was talking about you, but then his voice got a little quieter at the same time Noah bounded into the kitchen. "Mommy, I don't want to go to the lake," he said, face practically crumbling into tears.

"Why not?" you asked, setting everything aside to kneel and pull him in for a hug. "What's wrong? I thought you were so excited."

Then he started crying as he asked, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake? I don't want to see any big bears."

"Oh, sweet Noah," you whispered as you hugged him and tried not to laugh. Then it dawned on you that you actually weren't sure if there were any bears there or not. You knew it was a good three hour drive from San Diego up into the mountains, but you hadn't even considered that.

When Bradley walked into the kitchen to see you and Noah on the floor and his son in tears, he asked, "What's going on?"

You covered Noah's ears and whispered, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake?"

Bradley laughed for a few seconds, and then his expression turned contemplative. "I... actually have no idea. I'm going to go ahead and call Maverick." Then he was gone again, and you were left to try to coax Noah over to the kitchen table with the promise of some pancakes covered in melted butter.

You were wiping his tears while the batter sizzled on the griddle. "It's okay. Daddy won't let anything bad happen to us."

"I know," he muttered, sniffling.

Bradley poked his head back into the kitchen. "It's very unlikely, especially this time of year," he said with a shrug.

"What does that mean?" Noah asked, and you were afraid the tears would be back as you flipped the pancakes.

If they wanted you to be the mom, then you were going to go ahead and be the mom here. "It means you have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? Now do you want to eat your breakfast on the red plate or the orange plate?" you asked, holding up both options. Noah pointed at the red plate, and Bradley walked in and kissed your forehead.

"Good save," he whispered. "You're a natural." He ran his hand along your tummy with a wink, and you felt yourself flush with heat.

"You get the orange plate that nobody else wants," you told him with a breathy giggle. "Now go sit."

He did as he was told, and when you handed him his plate and a larger one with a stack of pancakes on it, he started to get one ready for Noah. "After this, I'll pack up the car and we can head out."

"Sounds good," you replied, adding a pancake to your own plate. You had discreetly packed some snacks for Noah on top of the box of items you didn't want Bradley to see, so you thought it was fine for him to pack the car. Once you were done eating, you took Noah into the living room and watched Bradley cart bag after bag and box after box out to the driveway.

He was looking a little sweaty when he came back inside one last time. He took you by the hand and scooped Noah up as he said, "Can't forget to pack these two." He led you outside and kissed Noah all over his face while he laughed hysterically. After Noah was buckled in and reassured that you had packed him ants on logs to eat during the drive, Bradley was pulling away from the house.

Once he was on the highway and you had started up the kid friendly playlist, he sighed. "I'm so happy you made a playlist for Noah so I don't have to listen to the Sesame Street soundtrack or something equally egregious."

"Isn't Sesame Street from the '70s? Just like you?" It was so hard not to laugh as you asked him that.

"Funny," he deadpanned. "I was born in 1984. You know how old I am."

"Do I?" you asked, your voice taking on an accusatory edge as Noah asked you to hand him more snacks.

"Mmm," Bradley hummed as he drove. You and he held hands, and you offered to drive if he got tired. "I'll be fine," he promised softly. "Why don't you just relax? It looks like Noah is about to doze off."

"Okay, Daddy." You squirmed down in your seat until your cheek was resting on his hand, and then you fell asleep, too.

-------------------------

Bradley tried his best to drive one handed up the rough trail toward the house, but he really needed two hands at this point. His right hand also happened to be asleep from the way you'd cuddled up with your head on him. "Princess," said, wiggling his fingers beneath you. "I need my hand back."

You moaned as you sat up, but when you looked out the window, you gasped. "It's beautiful here!" The early afternoon sunlight was reflecting off the lake and the mountains beyond. It was stunning, and Bradley realized it had been years since he'd taken any proper time off from work that didn't involve a day at home with Noah while he was too sick for daycare.

"If you enjoy this weekend together, you're going to have to make sure I take some vacation time. Because I actually never do."

"Is this some sort of joke? Of course, I'm going to love this weekend! I get to spend it with my boys! And wait... are you telling me you've never taken Noah to Disneyland?"

"Never."

"Daddy!" you complained loudly. "I thought you were a good parent!"

Bradley laughed as he looked for the correct driveway. "Clearly we needed you, Baby. You make us better."

He could practically feel you preening next to him as he put on his turn signal and pulled up the long driveway. "You need to take that sweet child to Disneyland. And you need to get him a dog," you said, kissing his cheek as Bradley pulled up next to Penny's car.

"So this has nothing to do with you wanting to go to Disneyland and you wanting to get a dog?"

"Not at all," you said, but you were smiling. "This is about what's best for the child."

"Right," he said once the engine was turned off. Then he kissed you, wrapping his hand around your neck before letting his fingers dip down into your shirt to toy with your bra strap. "Hey," he murmured against your lips.

"Hmm," you hummed, pulling his lip between yours and nibbling softly. God he just wanted to take you inside for some uninterrupted sex, but he knew he'd have to get through the afternoon and evening first.

"I love you," he whispered, running his fingers down to cup you through your bra.

"Daddy?" Noah called from the backseat, and you broke the kiss immediately.

"Yeah, Bub?" Bradley asked, his eyes still on you as you smiled at him. He couldn't seem to help himself; thoughts of diamond rings and the perfect proposal were always near the surface now. He kissed your nose and then turned to look at Noah.

"Don't let the bears come out, okay?" he asked softly, a smudge of peanut butter on his cheek.

"I won't," he promised, and you were already climbing out of the Bronco and walking around to get Noah. Bradley was just so impressed with the way you pulled a wet wipe out of your purse to wipe Noah's hands and face before you got him out of the car. You always had everything under control in a way that he just never seemed to be able to do alone.

"We'll be inside saying hi to everyone," you called over your shoulder, and Bradley was left to unload everything. Every time he carried bags inside the house, he could hear everyone talking and laughing. When he finally made his way into the sprawling kitchen where everyone else had congregated, Penny rushed over to give him a hug.

"Pete and I are so happy the three of you could come!" she said, giving him a tight squeeze. Amelia was chasing Noah around the room while you talked to Maverick. The house was beautiful, and he finally felt relaxed.

"Thanks for inviting us," he replied as Maverick kissed your cheek and headed toward Bradley.

"Grab your sunglasses. It's time to test out the boat."

"Boat?" Bradley asked. And about five minutes later, he was holding on tight to the side of a speedboat as Maverick drove it around the lake.

"This thing is fast!" Bradley shouted over the engine. The man was addicted to pushing things to the limit, and Bradley would have to make sure he was driving the boat if Noah came with them next time.

Maverick finally eased off the throttle once they were out in the middle of the lake, and Bradley was able to let go of his death grip on the boat. "Grab a beer," Maverick said, gesturing to the small cooler he brought along. "So, tell me, Bradley, you going to make that girl a permanent fixture?"

Bradley laughed as he opened a can and took a sip. "The thing is, she's pretty much been a permanent fixture since the beginning, at least as far as Noah is concerned."

Maverick nodded and opened his own beer. "I heard him calling her his mom."

"Yeah," Bradley replied, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as his brow creased. "I encouraged that. Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Like ever. But that felt right."

"Well, if you're keeping her around, and you plan on marrying her, then she really is his mom."

Bradley thought better than to mention his updated will, but he nodded. "Been thinking about it a lot, actually. I'm going to propose soon. In a few more weeks, we will have known each other for six months. Noah and I are sure about her, and that seems like a good amount of time to wait before buying a ring."

"That sounds like a very solid plan."

Bradley smiled at his dad's best friend. "Don't you dare tell Penny. She talks too much," Bradley warned.

"I won't."

"I want to surprise her and make everything perfect." He already had some ideas, but in his mind, you deserved perfection. You'd put up with just being his babysitter for way too long while he tried to convince himself you weren't the one for him. And you'd dealt with Meredith like you would have protected Noah with your life. You'd be the best mom, and Bradley wanted you to be his wife. He was thirty seven now. He knew you were the one. It was time.

Luckily, he was able to convince Maverick to let him drive the boat back to the dock, and he took things at a much slower pace. He passed a few other people out boating on the way back and decided he'd bring you and Noah out with him tomorrow or on Sunday when it was supposed to be even warmer.

On the walk back up to the house, Bradley's steps slowed as he asked, "Were those lights hanging up like that before?"

Maverick looked at the strings of sloppily hung twinkle lights all over the porch and scratched his chin. "I don't think so?"

"This was definitely not here earlier," Bradley remarked when he opened the front door to reveal an eight foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the living room. It looked like someone had thrown strands of lights at it from across the room, and there was Christmas music playing. "What the hell?"

"Happy birthday!"

Bradley and Maverick both turned toward the kitchen where Noah was sitting on the island and the three women were standing. You looked absolutely delighted with everything that was going on as you waved them in.

"What's going on, Baby?" he asked as you walked over and took him by the hand.

"It's your birthday party! Mav's too!"

"Why is everything decorated for Christmas?" he asked with a laugh, because you, Penny and Amelia clearly thought this was normal. And Noah was giggling as he colored in a Christmas coloring book.

"It's Christmas in July!" you explained, still leaving so many unanswered questions.

"Apparently the house is a popular holiday rental," Penny added as Mav hugged her. "And all of the Christmas decorations were already here, so we just rolled with it."

Bradley pulled you tight to him, careful to keep his hands on only the most appropriate of body parts. "My birthday was a month ago. When I was deployed."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me know," you said sarcastically, lightly smacking his cheek before kissing it and pushing your fingers into his hair. "I had no idea until I saw your driver's license out last week. You deprived yourself of a proper party, so now you get Christmas in July."

"And Maverick's birthday is in August," Bradley added with a huge smile.

"We don't play by the rules," Amelia said. "We have Christmas cookies to decorate and a movie to watch."

So Bradley spent the evening of what actually wasn't his thirty seventh birthday licking frosting off your cheek while you laughed and then holding Noah during the movie Elf. It seemed absolutely ridiculous as the oversize French doors were open to let in the summer air and the sounds of crickets chirping. It was also somehow exactly perfect, and it reminded him that he was allowed to have all these things in his life now that you were there. You'd probably want to do things like celebrate his birthday every year and decorate the house. And Noah would get to benefit from all of it.

"I want another birthday movie," Noah said as he yawned uncontrollably.

"Not tonight," Bradley told him as he carried him to the small bedroom where you'd already unpacked his things for the weekend. He changed Noah into pajamas and read the dinosaur book you'd left out on the dresser, and pretty soon his son was sound asleep.

It wasn't too late yet; Bradley could still hear the others out in the main living space, but he decided to see if you'd gone to the bedroom already. "Princess?" he called as he walked into the pretty wood paneled room that had a view of the lake and the last bits of purple sky as it got darker. Then you came strolling out of the en suite bathroom in nothing but a tiny lace bra and matching panties.

"Are you ready for your birthday present?" you asked sweetly, draping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips.

"Oh, I like my birthday present," he murmured as he ran his hands down your back to cup your ass.

You kissed along his neck and whispered, "You could have had some special treatment sooner if you told me when your birthday was, Daddy."

He grunted, both from the feel of your lips on his skin and because he knew you'd find out when it was eventually. "I just feel a little self-conscious sometimes about my age."

Your mouth paused, and then you were looking up at him like you were embarrassed. "But I tease you all the time."

"I know," he replied right away. "I know, and I love it when you do. It's not that." You combed your fingers through his hair and gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm just more than twelve years older than you. Sometimes it seems like a lot."

"That doesn't matter at all," you replied, holding eye contact with him. "In fact, I think I like it more this way. It's so much better being with someone who is serious about me and has his life together." One hand trailed down to his chest as you added, "It's almost flattering, the fact that you love me."

"I do," he said, watching your hand slip lower down his body. "I love you."

You smiled softly as your hand rested on the fly of his pants. "Happy birthday." You undid the front of his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his underwear. He was semi hard and getting harder by the second as you bit your lip and sank down to your knees. And then you opened your mouth so Bradley could set his cock right there on your glossy bottom lip.

"That looks pretty," he muttered, already breathing harder as you ran your tongue along his tip. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently, eyes bright and cheeks hollow. His cock was throbbing for you now, but he was enjoying the way you weren't taking him deep yet.

He kept his hands soft on your face, stroking his thumb along your chin and jaw. And then you reached up with both hands and wrapped them around his base as you withdrew him and kissed along his shaft. "I love you, Daddy." Then you took him deep in one go until you were gagging and he was seeing stars. His hands were rougher now at the back of your head, holding you in place while he grunted and groaned.

When you moaned around him, he released his grip on your head, and you popped him out of your mouth with a little gasp, and some strings of saliva dripped down to your chest. "More?" you asked, and he just nodded as you took him deep over and over again. Every time you gagged, you let him push a little harder, and you had tears in your eyes as you pulled him free and abruptly stood to kiss him.

Your tongue was in his mouth, and Bradley's hands gripped your ass as you ground against him. "Mmm, Bradley," you whined. "Ready for your present?"

He tucked his fingers inside your lace underwear and teased at your holes as your eyes went a little wider. "Is this not my present right here?" he grunted, trying to decide how he wanted to get off.

You shook your head in a jerky motion and whispered, "Not exactly..." Your voice was breathless and broken as you said, "If you think we can financially support a baby, and it's what you really want, then I'll let you flush my birth control down the toilet."

Bradley was gaping at you. A baby. With you. No more birth control. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," you replied. "I'm ovulating and I skipped my pill yesterday, and I want you to fuck a baby into me."

Bradley tipped his head back and moaned at how perfect that sounded coming from you. "Where are the pills?" he asked.

"Bathroom counter," you replied, and he kissed you so hard you were clinging to him.

Bradley hauled you into the bathroom with him where he popped each remaining pill out of the packaging with unsteady fingers and his erection hanging out of his jeans. You were squeezing your thighs together and whining softly as he swept them into the toilet and flushed it before he rounded on you.

"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he asked, voice dark and rough.

"Yes."

"Then I'll fuck a baby into you." He picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, and Bradley carried you to the bed. He set you down gently on your back and marveled at how perfect you looked for him. You were playing with your tits and already getting a little loud as you watched him get undressed.

And then he was on top of you, his cock aching to be inside you. He just kept thinking about you all pregnant and swollen as he pushed the lace covering your perfect pussy to the side and thrust into you hard and sure.

"Bradley!" you nearly screamed, scrambling beneath him and clawing at his shoulders. But he didn't stop the steady powerful thrusts that pushed you down into the mattress. He had to bring one big hand up to cover your mouth as he grunted.

"Keep quiet, Baby. Unless you want everyone to know how good it feels when I try to knock you up."

You nodded and moaned against his palm, but he just fucked you harder. Your legs were shaking as you spread them wider for him, and your fingers were tangled in the bedding. When your tits bounced free from that tiny bra, Bradley put his mouth on you, pulling your nipples gently one at a time.

Soft squeaking noises and moans escaped you as he pressed his lips to your ear. "I'm gonna cum. You always make me cum. You always give me everything, don't you? Don't you, Princess? I'm gonna give you a ring, and you'll give us a baby. I'll give you anything."

You were shaking all over as he rammed deep and spilled himself inside you. He was panting hard when he slipped his hand away from your mouth, and then your lips were on his in the sweetest kisses.

"I'm sorry I was rough," he whispered, running his fingers along your skin. "You okay?"

"I'm so good, Daddy. That was hot. I hope you liked your birthday present."

Bradley eased his body away from yours a few inches and gazed down to where you and he were still so perfectly connected. "Not sure if you or the unprotected sex was the actual gift, but either way, I liked my birthday present a lot."

You giggled as he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, keeping you close. "You said something about a ring."

"Did I?" he mumbled. He knew he was rambling while he fucked you, but he wasn't sure exactly what he'd been saying. Apparently it was a lot.

"Mmhmm," you hummed as he ran his fingers along your lace bra, but you didn't push for more. "So what's on the agenda for the rest of the weekend? And when are you going to get us a dog? And when are we taking Noah to Disneyland?"

Bradley narrowed his eyes at you playfully. "Boating and barbecues for the rest of the weekend. And as for the dog and Disneyland? Just let me enjoy my fake Christmas-birthday in peace. Because I'm sure it will be my last one without a dog who is constantly bugging me to let it outside or to play with it."

You settled down on top of him, placing a kiss to his pecs with a smirk. "That's absolutely correct. You just enjoy yourself while you still can."

--------------------------

When Bradley kissed you the next morning and whispered, "I'll be back. Going out to buy fishing bait with Noah and Mav," you just grunted in response. The sun was barely up, and as you rolled over, you could feel the delicious aftermath of the way Bradley had fucked you so hard. You were tired and a little sore in all the right places. Very carefully, you extracted yourself from the bed and padded along the floor to the bathroom.

He had flushed your birth control instantly, and you giggled just thinking about it. There was no turning back now, and you were so excited. You already had a family, and like Bradley, the idea of adding to it was enough to make you melt inside.

Since you didn't have to rush to get Noah ready, you took your time with your hair and makeup even though you were just going out on the lake for the day. You changed into your purple bikini and slipped your purple sundress over it, both of which you had purchased using your credit card.

When you made your way out to the kitchen, Penny was assembling sandwiches, and you could tell she was wearing her bathing suit, too. "Where's Amelia?" you asked, washing your hands so you could help her.

"She's a teenager," Penny replied with a laugh. "She sleeps until noon. You'll see one day when Noah is older."

You pressed your lips together, because you weren't so far removed from those years yourself. But you also felt butterflies in your tummy as you thought about the fact that Penny stated so confidently that you'd be there when Noah was older. And now you were hoping you'd be there with Bradley for more than one teenage kid.

"He's so sweet," you said as you cut the crust off one of the sandwiches for Noah. "Don't remind me that he'll be a surly teenager one day."

Penny eyed you carefully. "You'll handle it well. You already do. I still can't believe you started out as the babysitter, while Bradley was delusionally going on dates with other women. And I can't believe I didn't notice the way he looked at you at first."

You ducked your head. "I didn't notice for a few weeks myself. I just knew I was already attached to the two of them."

"We're back!" Bradley called out, carrying Noah into the kitchen. And he was immediately looking at you just like he always did, and you couldn't help but smile.

"And we have worms!" Noah said, holding onto a little styrofoam container.

"And more beer," Maverick added as he set two six packs down on the counter.

"Well we have sandwiches and ants on logs and lemonade and kisses," you said, taking the worm container from Noah and kissing his cheek and then Bradley's.

Amelia finally emerged from her bedroom as Noah started whining that he wanted to go on the boat and go fishing. "I'll take him down to the marina now so he can look at the water," Bradley said, but you shook your head.

"I'll take him. You help carry the coolers," you said, taking Noah by the hand and leading him past the Christmas tree. "We'll meet you all down there."

You grabbed your tote bag which was filled with coloring books and other activities for Noah, and then you and he walked down toward the boats while you sang his favorite dinosaur song together. And then you realized you didn't actually know which boat was yours for the weekend, so you led Noah out onto the long dock to wait for the others.

"Make sure you hold my hand. The water is really deep here," you reminded him as he peeked over the side to look into the water.

"Where are the fish?" he asked as he looked up at you. At least he was no longer asking about the bears.

"I think the fish are out in the middle of the lake," you told him.

"Well, how do we catch them? With our hands?"

"Oh, sweet Noah, I love you so much. The boat has fishing rods."

"What does that mean?" he asked, still looking down into the water.

You looked around at the boats docked in the slips and pointed to one behind you. "Fishing rods are those long things sticking up into the air on that boat. Come look." You led Noah down the narrower wooden dock between two large boats so he could see what you were talking about, and that's when you saw a man about Bradley's age looking down at you and Noah.

"Hi there," he said with a wink as he looked you up and down. And now you felt like your cute little dress was nonexistent as you awkwardly stood there looking up at him.

"We were just checking out your fishing rod," you told him, but he wasn't looking at Noah at all as he grinned. And you realized that it sounded like you were talking about his penis, and you wished you could just disappear.

He jumped down onto the dock with a laugh. "Oh yeah? I'll let you touch it if you want."

"No thanks," you replied with a grimace. You turned to leave, your hand still gripping Noah's, but the man headed you off. And now you were looking around for the others, because he was blocking the narrow path with his body.

"Now just hang on a minute," he said, pulling his sunglasses off, presumably so he could see you better. "You look beautiful. What do they call you?"

Noah looked up at him and said, "She's my Daddy's Princess."

The man was finally looking down at Noah, and you didn't like that either. So you mumbled something as your heart pounded, and you shoved past him, making sure Noah didn't walk too close to the edge of the dock. He kept calling out to you as you walked along a different part of the pier, but a moment later you could see Bradley walking down in the distance holding one end of a long cooler and sipping a beer.

"There's Daddy and Mav," Noah said, and you picked him up to rush in that direction.

"Let's go get him." They were setting the cooler down next to a boat that was smaller than the other one with the huge fishing rods, and thankfully it was in the other direction as well.

"Hey, Bub!" Bradley called out, and when you got closer, he took his son from your arms as you were slightly out of breath.

"We didn't know which boat to go to," you told him.

"It's this little white one," he said, kissing your cheek. "You look beautiful."

"That's what the other man said," Noah told him.

Bradley's brow creased instantly. "What other man?" he asked, looking around everywhere.

"It was nothing," you said, but Noah pointed toward the other boat immediately.

"In the big, blue boat. Mommy was looking at his fishing rod, and he told her she was beautiful, and I said she's my Daddy's Princess."

Bradley kissed his cheek, and said, "Good job, Noah. She's your Mommy and my Princess." He set Noah down inside the boat where Maverick immediately started getting his life jacket buckled before he helped Penny and Amelia onboard as well.

But Bradley had one of his big hands on your hip as he slid his aviators down on his nose and smirked. "You were looking at a man's fishing rod?" he asked softly, an edge of annoyed humor in his tone.

"Oh, come on," you said, rolling your eyes and laughing. "I wanted Noah to see what a fishing rod looks like, and there were a bunch lined up on that boat."

Bradley nodded and kissed your forehead. "We've got some fishing rods on this boat, and I have a special one just for you."

You bit your lip and tried not to laugh. When Bradley said it, you absolutely wanted to learn more. When that other guy said it, you wanted to jump in the water and try to swim back to San Diego. "Really, Daddy?" you asked in your most eager voice. "When can I try it out?"

He groaned softly and cupped your face, kissing you softly as he said, "Try to behave for a couple of hours, and it's all yours."

---------------------------------

Welcome! We are in our baby making era now! Even more lake house goodness coming soon! Also, if Noah sees a bear, he will never forgive Bradley and Princess. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 38

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@pieceuvmind

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

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blorbocedes · 6 months ago

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let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

#welcome to my dark twisted evil mind #if you read the whole thing... I hope u shared this journey with me. kiss!#the effort behind a stupid shitpost lol. this is what nobody sees #nico rosberg #Bahrain Grand Prix 2012 #lore hunting

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strawberrysainz · 11 months ago

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supercut of us. max verstappen

“ you weren’t expecting him to join the holiday. so when he does . . . you’re not sure how to refrain yourself from both slapping him in the face or pulling him into bed with you. ”

max verstappen x fem!reader

a mini enemies to lovers “blurb” (it’s 1.5k words lol) for my max lovers.

a warning — slightly mature scene, profanity, alcohol consumption

3:36 P.M.

“My heart is pounding,” you admit, and your hand that absentmindedly clutches your moving chest allows you to let out a deep breath.

George chuckles. You’re both waiting for his girlfriend to come back from the bar with your cocktails - you for a drink, him so he can leave you two alone.

The bird that’s just made a grab at your bowl of snacks squawks from a metre away and you stare at it menacingly. Carmen comes back clutching two strawberry daiquiris, and George takes that as his cue to leave, hurriedly. You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s the man got to do at -” you check your watch -“three forty two pm on holiday?”

Carmen shrugs. “He had to get to the airport to pick people up, last I heard.”

You nod knowingly and lean back on the sun lounger, taking a sip of your drink.

Carmen starts to talk about drama from work, and you peer at her through your sunglasses as the warmth of the sun and the comfort of previous tipsiness starts making you drift off.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

4:56 P.M.

Around an hour later you’re rudely awoken by multiple cheeky voices; you can identify George’s loud voice through the squinting of your eyes through the sunlight, but there’s one voice that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s raspy - in a smooth way - but the short cackle that follows it allows you to realise that it's someone you definitely don’t want on holiday with you.

Pure annoyance makes you open your eyes. Carmen is nowhere to be seen; four men stand above you. You sit up, yawning, and hope that you’re not red with sunburn. (Looking down for a split second, you’re not.) Then you look up with some kind of synthetic smile and your blood boils as you look Max straight in the eyes.

“Hi boys,” you say, smiling, and get up to give everyone a hug; Lando spins you around and runs across the sand, and as you scream he throws you into the ocean.

Now you need a drink, for real.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

LATER. 11:37 P.M.

Head heavy in your hand on the counter, you’re woozy, blanketed by too many cocktails, and Lily and Carmen sit across from you stealing blocks of chocolate from a bar Alex bought.

Max strolls in and you grimace.

The anger hasn’t dissipated- being in a serene setting hasn’t changed what happened- and you toss him the drink he nods to; he turns straight back around and leaves.

“What’s the beef with you two, anyway?” Lily says curiously, and Carmen laughs. “It’s so dumb.”

“When we were sixteen-” you interrupt yourself to cough- “he dated two of my friends and caused us all to break up our group. Then he asked me out for a date, we went out, then he ghosted me. I was left with no friends. Then we met again two years later and we had a screaming fight outside a club, which ended up in a Dutch gossip mag. I was so embarrassed.”

Lily scrunches her nose. Carmen has zoned out, but she laughs to herself.

You look at her with the hint of a smile, tilting your head.

She nudges Lily. “They have to share a room tonight.” She whispers, and she throws her head back laughing and you stare at her incredulously. “Sorry?”

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

2:16 A.M.

“Max, I don’t fucking care, I’m sleeping on this stupid thing.” You kick the hard wooden bench at the foot of the bed. (It looks like a terrible place to sleep).

“Can you fucking get over yourself?” He says, rolling his eyes, and you’re drunk and upset and trying not to cry because he makes you so angry. “Just sleep in the fucking bed.”

You stand there in the room with your arms crossed, breeze softly blowing. He huffs and stalks off to the bathroom.

You get dressed for bed, in a big t-shirt because it’s hot and humid. Max walks out of the bathroom as you’re sliding on the shirt and you know he’s gotten a glimpse of your stomach and your underwear because his gaze changes from something frustrated to something you witnessed at the age of seventeen, across a dinner table as his hands move over your thigh.

He seems to be moving without knowing; suddenly he’s in front of you, eyes wild with desire you haven’t ever known, and it’s a test of patience, standing there under the twilight; the curtains blow.

You stand there with trepidation rattling your body and turn around, getting into bed like a stubborn little child.

He closes his eyes, opens the door and leaves.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

9:23 A.M.

The morning air greets you as you walk outside; Lando’s made mimosas on the wooden table next to the swimming pool, and you take a champagne glass gratefully. You wave to Lily and Alex who sit with their feet in the pool, and sip, the sun bathing you in light.

Lando comes to sit next to you by the pool loungers and you raise your glass as a thank you to him. “I heard you two had a little spat last night,” he says carefully, and you snort. “He instigated it and left.”

He laughs. “He went past my room to sleep on the couch. His footsteps were so fuckin’ heavy, I couldn’t even sleep for a good twenty minutes.”

You laugh.

George yells from inside that he’s made breakfast and everyone gets up with a yawn. Lando grabs a spare bottle of champagne and you all walk inside.

There’s some nearly burnt pancakes, heavenly smelling bacon, some sausage, and fried eggs. You all praise him heavily (Alex wraps his arm around his waist and pretends to kiss him) and Max walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge you and instead greets everyone else. You roll your eyes.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

13:43 P.M.

You’re a bit tipsy already, enough so that you can chat to Max amicably beside the pool as George and Alex play some mix of water polo and volleyball.

Your empty glass seems to shout at you from your side, so you pick it up and make your way back to the house.

As you enter the kitchen you hear someone stepping behind you. It’s Max - you know it from the soft thud of his foot against the wooden floor. Your eyelids flutter shut with some emotion you don’t know yet when he comes to stand next to you. You watch him out of your periphery, his hands, the soft, flowing movement of his body. His resting face, squinting with concentration to pour drinks. You bite back some words and carry on pouring.

As you turn around to go back, you two face each other, and your breath hitches when his eyes slowly move to meet yours, clutching your glass like it’s your protector. His gaze is… tender. In the kind of way that blurs out everything else.

The only thing that comes to mind is kissing him, so you move to go, and he sets down a glass to grab your arm. You clear your throat, and Christine McVie’s voice croons in the background when you look back. His eyelashes brush his cheek every time he blinks, and you study his face, forgetting all that came before.

Lando and Alex call, and you both leave. The feelings are left there, back in the house, when you go.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

12:34 A.M.

Stumbling back from the restaurant, everyone bids eachother a good night after a quick drink of a glass of water each. You find your room and start getting undressed in the middle of the room, carelessly, and when you hear Max come in you get a fright and clutch your chest. He lets out a little laugh as he gets his things and moves to the bathroom.

Two minutes later, when he walks back inside, you’re bending over to see your face in the mirror to take off your makeup and you can sense the energy inside the room has changed. He’s in a shirt and those gingham pants that look divine on any man, and he stands still for a moment before moving over to the window. You bend back up and you’re met by his gaze again, frozen in place. Your lips part momentarily and he steps forward, and you’re reminded of how much you hate his stupid face when his lips meet yours. His hands wrap around your waist, one dipping beneath your shirt to rest on your stomach, and you’re kissing him, hard, desperately, messily; in a way that you don’t realise how much you wanted to until now.

He moves slowly to the bed, large hands grasping your waist softly, sending shivers up your spine. His hips press against yours as you fall on the bed, gasping with pleasure as his hands meet your neck.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

TWO MONTHS LATER. 11:56 AM.

In the garage, you’re busy chatting to some mechanics when he comes up to you, and his hands slide around your waist from behind. You twist your torso to smile up at him as he presses a kiss to your cheek, and to your delight he pushes you towards his driver’s room, shooting you a knowing grin as he looks away, holding up five fingers and then a thumbs up. You bite back a broad smile as you walk away.

i hope you enjoyed. heart, comment, reblog pls 🫶🤙 love u love u love u

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic

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lostberet · 3 months ago

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˚ ༘ ♡ ⋆.˚ WORLDTOUR teaser | ot7 (m)

𐙚 synopsis: The year 2026 has arrived, and instead of returning to their loving jobs as Idols, Bangtan is stuck serving South Korea after a mysterious outbreak. However, what these two jobs have in common is their World Tour.

༘⋆ genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , romance , violence, suspense , smut ; military au , idol au? ,

༘⋆ disclaimer: Violence, Gore, Graphic Violence, Use of Weapons, Mention of death, eventual smut, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

༘⋆ a/note: ANOTHER SERIES, hello my jelly fishies, this is a series that will be broken up into a mini-series for each member, please let me know who's tour you'd like to read first!

South Korea, Jeju Island time: 7:35 pm

“I apologize, but there is not enough space for you and your crew at this moment, captain.” There was commotion, each service worker going into their own phone calls answering, some sobbing and others yelling in frustration, “Please stay safe, I will send a boat whenever there is one available.”

Yoongi removed the head-phone caller from his head, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the large screen before him. A world map showing multiple red dots of the Korean Military’s location, and some of them were his friends.

“They’ll be fine.” A familiar voice said beside him, Yoongi turned his head, meeting NamJoon’s. Yoongi only remained silent and Namjoon took his silence as a rejection, “SeokJin wants to have dinner together.”

Namjoon tired again, trying to bring his older brother back from his dark thoughts, “I can’t stomach anything right now.” Namjoon nodded, a faint smile on his face as he patted Yoongi’s back, “I know.. But whole they’re out there━ surviving━ so are we back here.”

Japan, Tokyo time: 7:37 pm

“Hyung!” Hoseok turned from his still-position, his vision blurry from the heavy rain, “yeah?” Squinting, he was able to make up one of his members, “Hyung, time for dinner, chief also has some information regarding international news,” Jimin’s voice was calm, his body turning to look out into the city. The rain filled the silence between them. Hoseok only swallowed, he was worried, nervous━ yet, what he was feeling was nothing compared to what Jimin felt.

Jimin will be able to know more about the two younger ones. The two who were selected to actually fly across the world in where they had absolutely no contact. Hoseok held onto Jimin’s shoulder, “I’m sure everything is fine!” Hoseok chirped, a bright smile on his lips. Jimin only gave a small smile back. He was just thankful that among all this chaos, he had a brother with him.

United States of America, Texas - San Antonio 4:30 am

“We gotta get moving, let’s go soldiers!” an American soldier commanded as he waved the small group into a building, shutting the door behind him.

The American soldier removed his helmet, turning to another American soldier, “when is the plane arriving?” The American took a while to respond as he checked his watch, “In about 5 minutes, captain.”

The American Captain nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked at his small team, his eyes landing on the two foreigners, “Ya hear that, you two?” The Captain bit back a grin, “you motherfuckers are going back home.”

Jungkook leaned against the concrete wall, panting from running a few miles, a toothy smile visible as he heard the Captain’s words. He looked over at Taehyung, who smiled at the thought of going back to Korea.

“We’ll have to go down to Mexico, from there, the flight will be directly towards Jeju Island.” The American soldier informed the crew, earning nods in response.

The clock had struck 4:35 am, and the door’s of the safe house were opened once more, the American Captain commanding his troops to run towards the plane location━ 1 mile away.

Taehyung jogged behind the Captain and one other American soldier, Jungkook was right behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the dark morning. Taehyung wasn’t tired, he’d trained to the point that running miles didn’t make his heart pump to the point of fainting. So, why was his heart pumping so fast?

It became so loud to the point that he only heard his heartbeat against his chest━ it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was right, his whole body felt it, but he kept moving forward. He’ll be on the plane home no less than a mile away.

“Get down!” Before Jungkook could process the foreign warning, a building on his far left exploited━ sending building pieces flying towards their direction and with it, the familiar grunts and screams of death. “Everyone run!”

It took a second for Jungkook’s body to react before he started springing to the desired location. His eyes focused on Taehyung’s back. As the group got closer to the military base, sounds of gun-shots started taking over the grunts and screams. Startled by the sudden fire, Jungkook dropped to his knees, covering his ears━ a bad reflex response his body had come up. However, his arm was being pulled by one of the American Soldiers, “Get up━we’re almost there!”

Almost being dragged by the American, Jungkook stumbled upon his feet, running alongside them. His reaction had cost him some time. Upon entering the gate to the military airport, he witnessed Taehyung entering the plane, along with 2 others.

20 feet more and Jungkook will also be in that plane. 19 more feet and Jungkook was tackled down on the floor, the sound of fire getting louder and louder━ but Taehyung’s call was the only thing Jungkook could hear.

And as the door of the plane closed and the plane rose from the ground up to the air━ the last image of Taehyung Jungkook will never forget was how he still reached for him. And the last image of Jungkook Taehyung got to witness was how he was being dragged off the ground by the American Captain, his gun firing at the dead.

It was 4: 50am when Taehyung threw his helmet against the metal floor of the plane, pacing around, his body trembling as he tried wrapping his head over what had just happened. He wasn’t going back home without Jungkook.

It was 6:00 am when Taehyung had come up with a plan to return to America and find Jungkook. It was also the time the plane began to share the same trembling as Taehyung’s body. It was 6:15 am when Kim Taehyung’s plane crashed into Mexico, Monterrey.

South Korea, Jeju Island time: 8:05 pm

The small lobby held a few soldiers, it only held the ones who had loved ones internationally━ So, SeokJin, Yoongi and NamJoon found themselves in that same room, awaiting their turn to receive their news.

“Jun-ha,” The Captain called out, “Your sister is doing just fine in Thailand. The Thailand Military will bring her home, she’ll take a plane back to Korea in about a day.” The sound of sobs echoed in the room,

It was 8:15 when the group was dismissed, bringing panic and confusion among the oldest Bangtan members, “Captain, what about our boys?” SeokJin called out, earning a few looks from the leaving soldiers, “Hoseok and Jimin are just fine in Japan.”

“We know they’re fine, we’re talking about Taehyung and Jungkook.” NamJoon butt-in, his eyes dancing across the Captain’s face, trying to find any sense of emotion. The Captain only licked his lips, avoiding eye contact, “about that..”

“I swear to god, if something happened to them━” Yoongi stepped in, panic running through his veins before the Captain spoke, “They are fine. Separated but fine.”

“What do you mean?”

Japan, Tokyo time: 8:10 pm

“Okay.. Taehyung is on his way..” Jimin muttered, his leg bouncing as he tried to calm his nerves, “What about Jungkook?” Hoseok looked between the Captain and Jimin, “Jungkook will take his plane from Miami, we’re not sure when, but he’s safe.”

South Korea, Jeju Island time: 8:13 pm

“Thank God..” Seokjin sighed, his head falling into his arms, relief falling into his body. His boys were coming home. Not together, but soon.

Japan, Tokyo | South Korea, Jeju Island time: 8:30 pm

Jimin and Hoseok stood on top of the military base, guarding and scanning the area. It was their turn to stand guard for the night. Jimin felt drained, his eyes only focusing on the far distance of the safe house. His thoughts eating him away.

“Park, Jung, you two copy?” The Captain’s voice echoed through their radio, Jimin slightly turned his head towards Hoseok. Hoseok grabbed his radio, “Yes, Captain, over.”

“Come to the lobby.”

South Korea, Jeju Island time: 8:33 pm

“You told us they were fine!” Yoongi yelled, his eyes burning with tears, “The plane fell near a safe base, I’m sure if━”

“Sure of what?! Do you even know if Taehyung is alive?” Yoongi cut the Captain off, SeokJin bringing Yoongi to sit back down on the chair, “Yoongi’s right.. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.. But.. we want to know if Taehyung survived..”

United States of America - Dallas, Texas 6:36am

“What..” Jungkook’s voice came out faint, almost a whisper as the color of his face drained, “We’re sending the Mexican safe house near the accident to check the place.. In the meantime, you will head to Miami for your flight.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I know about Taehyung.” Jungkook said, the American Captain only sighed, “You’ll know, but you need to get to Miami, go back home.”

Mexico, Monterrey 10:25 am

Taehyung coughed, his eyes opening as he scanned the area, the beaming sun burning his face. The air was very hot against his face, and with a grunt, he pulled himself from the ground. The moment he stood on his feet, he felt the pain run through his spine, he hissed and crunched down.

“Fuck..” he muttered, his hands running through his body. He hadn’t broken a bone, thank god for that, but his thigh was bleeding, a deep cut, too. He looked around, but there wasn’t much he could do. Just walk it out.

12:09 pm

Taehyung reached a point where his leg couldn’t keep up, causing him to stop near a small town. Silence welcomed him, no life in sight, and he didn’t mind. His uniform was becoming unbearable, and his thigh was hurting too much.

He stumbled upon a small store, entering and blocking the entrance behind him. And just like that, Taehyung found a small place that kept him safe for the day. When Night time fell, the heat of Mexico kept him warm, but his thigh still ached. He couldn’t find anything to fix it, he’ll have luck next time.

That was if he wasn’t found first.

#bts fanfic #x reader #bts fic #bts army #bts #bts x reader #kpop #min yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #kim seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #bts smut

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skbeaumont · 7 months ago

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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet.

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD.

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #AU!no outbreak

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago

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Garden of Secrets [37] - Amaranth

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Art lasts forever.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3600

Series Masterlist

The first thing you felt through the warmth of peaceful sleep was the blinding sunrays piercing through the darkness, causing you to make a face and wonder why on earth the curtains were open this early—

Oh.

You weren’t in your room.

A smile curled your lips as you shifted closer to Benedict who looked to be still in deep sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other kept you close to his chest even in his sleep. You had found a couple of soil bags last night to use as pillows along with a very old blanket that you suspected they used to carry the said bags, and thrown it over you. You let your hungry gaze wander down from his handsome face to his perfect torso; he looked like a statue one of his idols would sculpt in Renaissance in such an effortless way that even looking at him made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks burning when you remembered last night.

Well, as it turned out Benedict was right.

It felt absolutely divine.

You nibbled on your lip, dragging your eyes away from him to your surroundings. In daylight, the greenhouse looked so beautiful that it felt as if you were in a dream, making you heave a sigh. You slowly pulled away from him, careful not to wake him up and reached for your shift to put it on. It was dry unlike the rest of your clothes but it was so see-through in the sunlight that if it were any other time you would have never thought of walking around just in that, except that—

Well.

Considering last night, it wouldn’t be a scandal.

You bit down a smile and got off the floor, approaching the Middlemist Red. You still couldn’t believe it was yours, after years and years of dreaming of seeing it at least once in some sort of exhibition, now you could see it anytime you wanted in your own greenhouse. You gently caressed the petals with your fingertip, then checked the soil in the pot to see whether it needed water but it was still damp so you figured it could wait until later in the day. You looked around, taking in the sight.

This was actually yours. All of it.

“I thought you left.”

You looked over your shoulder and turned around to look at Benedict better, your heart skipping a beat as you did. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position with the blanket pooled around his waist, his hair messy as he ran his hand through it, that lopsided grin you loved so much playing on his lips. You took a deep breath to snap yourself out of the haze, then leaned back to the shelf.

“Well this is my greenhouse,” you said airily, motioning between you before pointing at him. “So hypothetically, if anyone was to leave…”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “Mm, should I leave then?”

“No,” you said with a grin. “In fact, I don’t think either of us should. Let’s just stay here for the rest of our lives.”

He stretched out his arm as if offering you his hand. “Will you come here please?”

You pretended to think about it, then approached him with a giggle that turned into a squeal when he grabbed you by the waist to pull you to his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart slamming against your ribcage as he leaned in to kiss you, making you heave a happy sigh.

“Good morning my love,” he muttered to your lips, stroking your cheekbone and coaxing a smile from you.

“Good morning.”

“Remind me again, why are you wearing clothes?”

You let out a small laugh. “For decorum, obviously,” you teased him. “I mean surely you cannot disagree with propriety, can you?”

“I absolutely can,” he said, stealing a kiss from you as his hand trailed up your leg, pushing the skirt of your shift up, awakening fire on your skin. “To hell with decorum.”

You felt nearly intoxicated as a giggle climbed up your throat and he rolled you over to get on top of you, settling between your legs, holding himself up on one arm to look down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I’ll never be able to paint this…” he murmured and you tilted your head, stroking your fingertips over his chest, right over his heart.

“Well I suppose you’ll have to settle for the feeling rather than the depiction,” you tried to joke, stealing a look at him before the thought hit you, making you furrow your brows. He knew you too well not to notice it, so he pulled back just a little.

“What is it?”

“This doesn’t change things, does it?”

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“You won’t take it back now that I…” you trailed off. “You won’t stop loving me now that I said I love you?”

That fond look appeared in his blue eyes again and he smiled at you, then reached to your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest, letting you feel his strong heartbeat.

“This life and beyond, remember?” he murmured. “I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.”

You pressed your lips together and he tilted his head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but I just don’t see how,” you muttered. “I mean I’ve— I’ve been terrible to you.”

“No you haven’t.”

You scoffed. “Ben.”

“What?” he said with a small laugh. “You haven’t.”

“Just yesterday I accused you of cheating on me.”

“I mean it brought us here to this so I’m not complaining,” he said, wiggling his brows and drawing a burst of laughter from your lips.

“No but ever since we met, I’ve been…” you mumbled. “Not nice to you.”

“You were.”

You shot him a look and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“It’s a subjective matter.”

You looked around the greenhouse before turning your glances to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Why did you do all this for me when you didn’t even know I was in love with you?”

He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.

“I didn’t do this so that you would fall in love with me,” he said. “I did it because I want you to be happy. Simple as that.”

You felt as if your heart was melting and you leaned up to kiss him but the sound of a movement by the door reached you, making Benedict roll off you to shield you with his body as soon as the door opened and Mr. Binsted walked in.

“Oh—my apologies!” he exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on you two, then he looked up, his whole face going red. “Sir. Ma’am.”

“Mr. Binsted,” Benedict said, trying to keep a straight face as if nothing was out of the ordinary while you stayed behind him, your cheeks burning. “Good morning.”

“Hello,” you murmured, still hiding behind Benedict and Mr. Binsted nodded, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“Good morning, I’ll just—come back later,” he stammered and left, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You buried your face to Benedict’s shoulder, gripping his arm tightly and letting out a whine while he started laughing.

“Oh my God…” you said. “Oh my God, I can never look him in the eye again.”

Benedict tried to stop his laughter and shook his head, then turned to you.

“Could’ve been worse,” he commented and grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you let out a clear laugh despite yourself. “Besides, look on the bright side.”

You raised your brows, still smiling. “And what is that?”

“Well you see my love, now…” he dipped his head to brush his lips against yours, that familiar fire spreading through your veins as his hand pushed your skirt up. “Now we know no one will be disturbing us for a while.”

If somebody told you that one day you would have the greenhouse of your dreams, including the rarest flower in the world and you would spend the whole day away from it, you would have laughed in their face.

Yet in your defense, Benedict had a way of convincing you.

It felt like you were put under some sort of spell, that fire only he managed to breathe into life taking over you until the only thing in your mind was him. After leaving the greenhouse, you had every intention of going back once you had some breakfast but before you knew it, you both found yourselves in his bed.

You could not believe you had denied yourself the bliss for so long when you could’ve been doing this for months and more importantly, you couldn’t believe you were still hungry for him even after spending hours in the bed with him, completely lost in the pleasure.

And the worst part? You actually had to step away from his room and from him so that your maid could do your hair for tonight, for Gordon’s gala.

For some reason, every single act except the marital act felt entirely unnecessary to you now that you had gotten a taste of it.

Paula retrieved her hands from your hair, letting you look in the mirror to check your bun and you turned your head, then smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” she said as you stood up, and put your corset over your shift. She went behind you to put the laces into the hoops but you turned your head when you heard the knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

A bright smile warmed your lips. “Come in Ben!”

The door opened and he stepped inside, and you turned to Paula.

“You may leave, thank you.”

Paula curtsied and left the room, and you grinned at Benedict, leaning back to the vanity.

“You look too handsome,” you said, your lips pulled into a small pout as your gaze wandered over him. Unlike you, he looked very much ready to go outside and attend this gala you two were expected in, yet the only thing you wanted to do was to drag him to bed, outside world be damned.

And judging by the mischievous look in his blue eyes, he shared the sentiment.

“Let’s just skip this one,” he said, approaching you and your jaw dropped, an exaggerated shock clear on your face.

“We made a promise,” you reminded him. “It’s Gordon’s gala.

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and you giggled, turning around.

“Help me?” you asked airily, watching him on the mirror a playful smirk curled his lips, then his hands went to the laces of your corset. A giddy laugh climbed up your throat as you reached back to grab at his wrist when you realized the corset getting even looser.

“Lace up Ben, not unlace.”

“We can just tell them we had something to do.”

“Lace up,” you teased him with a small smile and he heaved a dramatic sigh, then tugged at the laces, the corset getting tighter around your body. The memory of earlier today flashed before your eyes, with his tight grip around your waist and you felt your cheeks burn, the familiar fire coming to life at your lower stomach.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss on the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered close for a moment before you tried to see through the haze of desire, willing yourself to turn around to look up at him.

“I owe Gordon,” you said, playing with the lapels of his jacket. “For coming to my aunt’s ball. Besides, is he not your hero in art?”

“He is,” he said, one hand playing with the front ribbon of your corset absentmindedly and you entwined your fingers with his. He raised your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making your stomach do a pleasant flip.

“What if his painting tonight is a masterpiece and you miss it?” you taunted him and he scoffed.

“I have the most beautiful masterpiece in front of me right now,” he said. “I’m not interested in anything else.”

A fire swept over your cheeks and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.

“You remember what you said about me being the death of you?” you asked. “Now to think of it, I think we might have gotten it backwards.”

There was no wonder why everyone in the ton was competing rather ruthlessly for the invitations for Gordon’s gala, because as far as you could tell, the guests only consisted of his very close friends. When you and Benedict walked in, you couldn’t help but notice that you had seen most of these people at the parties Benedict had taken you to, which meant the majority of them were artists.

Not that you had any chance to talk to them. Ever since the beginning of the gala, while waiting for Gordon to unveil the painting in the middle of the room, you and Benedict had been inseparable. Perhaps it was good that only a handful of people who were more open about public displays of affection were here with you because if it were any other ball or social outing, you were certain you would have been criticized and made to Lady Whistledown’s newest edition about your lack of decorum, and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care.

This daze you found yourself in his presence didn’t seem to be going away, and thankfully he seemed to have the exact same issue.

“What happens though?” you asked, comfortable in Benedict’s arms while he nuzzled into your hair, his fingertips running up and down your spine while you looked at the paintings on the walls. “There’s the gala, and then they put the painting in a museum straightaway?”

“In Gordon’s case yes,” he said, “It’s already sold I’m guessing.”

“The painting tonight?”

“Mm hm.”

“But it’s the gala.”

“Buyers see it before the ton,” he said with a smile. “And considering how famous he is, I’m willing to bet multiple museums and collectors climbed all over each other to get it, it must’ve been sold within minutes.”

You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“And are you excited to see it?” you asked. “The painting?”

“If you asked me before yesterday, I would have been,” he admitted. “Now, I don’t care much about it.”

“You’re an artist!”

“I’m a husband as well, and that side of me weighs much more at the moment,” he said and looked around. “You know, I’m quite certain Gordon has guest rooms.”

You tried to contain your laughter. “Shh!”

“No I’m serious, because there’s still time until—”

“Did you two not come here from the same house?” Henry’s voice cut him off, making you and Benedict turn your heads and then Benedict buried his nose to the top of your hair, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you two were alone. “Was there some sort of war and you just got back while I wasn’t looking?”

“Hello Henry.”

“Y/N,” he greeted you back with a teasing smile while Benedict rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt this, but I need to borrow him for a moment. Ben, Mr. Allingham is here.”

“Hm?” Benedict asked after a moment as if he was having a hard time focusing just like you and Henry blinked a couple of times.

“Mr. Allingham?” he repeated. “One of the directors of the Academy? Are you—is he alright?”

You bit back a smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Oh I’d say he’s more than alright.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Henry said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from you gently and you covered your lips to hide your grin.

“Henry, I was—”

“With your wife yes, she’ll be there after you’re done talking to Allingham. Artists in love, honestly…” Henry said as they both walked to the other side of the gallery and you looked around, then caught the side of Margery and Lucy. You took a glass of champagne from the footman, then approached them.

“Oh hello Y/N!”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. “Um—terribly sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to thank you, Margery.”

She raised her brows and gave you a small smile. “The surprise?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a wink while Lucy looked between you two.

“What surprise?”

“Benedict had a surprise for Y/N, I happened to know a person who could help,” she said airily. “I’m glad you liked it. Consider it my apology for all those stupid rumors about him and me.”

“It’s beyond me how anyone could ever believe those.” Lucy commented and you shifted your weight, nodding fervently.

“I know,” you said with a scoff, waving a hand in the air. “Complete nonsense, I doubt anyone actually believed it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,” you heard Gordon’s voice and the chatter of the crowd ceased immediately. You saw him making his way to the covered painting in the middle of the gallery and everyone followed him.

“Let’s see the painting first and then I have so much to tell you,” Margery said, squeezing your hand before Lucy winked at you and pulled her towards the rest of the crowd. You felt someone touching the small of your back and Benedict pressed a kiss on your temple.

“Come on,” he said, gently leading you closer to the painting and you entwined your fingers with his, leaning your head to his arm when you came to a stop. Gordon smiled at you two, then cleared his throat and turned to the guests.

“I’ve always thought a painting should speak for itself rather than the artist speaking for it,” he said. “But I feel confident in saying that love continues to inspire each and every one of us, may it be our actions or art. Therefore, I’m glad to share The Artist and the Muse with you.”

With that, he pulled the cover off of the painting and the crowd gasped, a round of applause rising soon after. You tilted your head and stepped closer to the painting, a slight frown furrowing your brows.

There was no wonder Gordon was a living legend in the art world, it was such a beautiful painting that it almost took you by surprise. The two figures in the garden under the moonlight seemed to be in an embrace, their faces hidden but you didn’t even need to see their faces to know that they were in love. You had no idea how Gordon had managed to depict it, but anyone who so much as laid eyes on the painting would be able to tell this was some sort of an escapade from the crowd, as if those figures were the only lovers left in the world.

“How did he…?” Benedict breathed out and you looked up at him.

“He really is insanely talented,” you commented. “I mean I feel as if they’re familiar, I don’t get that feeling from many paintings.”

Benedict turned to look at you better as if trying to see whether you were jesting.

“I mean I’d assume so,” he said. “Considering we’re looking at ourselves.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“Coleshill Ball,” Benedict said, motioning at the painting. “That’s the garden, that’s…that’s the gown you were wearing. We stepped outside for a moment, remember? Danced in the garden?”

Your jaw dropped as the memory flashed through your mind. Benedict was right, it was all familiar; the garden, the gown, the scenery itself. That was the night where you had apologized to Benedict and you two had danced in the garden, with him holding you close, away from the ton and their nonsense almost like a shelter.

Gordon had told you, way before tonight.

The storm and the shelter weren’t separate things as it turned out.

“Well you two look rather shocked,” Gordon’s voice snapped you out of it and Benedict let out a laugh.

“Gordon, is that…”

“You, yes,” he said. “Not to worry, I will never tell people it’s you. I just happened to be looking out of the window, desperate to get away from the ton and all that chatter and I saw you two dancing and…well, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how inspiration works Ben. Y/N, I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head fervently.

“No,” you said. “God no, not at all. I…I don’t know what to say, Gordon. It's an honor.”

Gordon bowed his head.

“It’s not the last painting that will have you as its subject I’m sure,” he smiled, nodding in Benedict’s direction. “I’d better go and say hello to Allingham, if you’ll excuse me. Enjoy the gala.”

With that, he walked away from you and Benedict exhaled, still in disbelief. You stepped into his embrace, keeping your eyes on the painting and he dipped his head to kiss the top of your hair.

“You know, Gordon is a legend,” he muttered. “Which means this painting will be gazed upon for centuries.”

“So will yours Ben,” you said as you rested your head on his arm, heaving a sigh. “And I don’t know. I still like your paintings better.”

Chapter 38

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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ateezthings · 4 months ago

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Thoughts are too much

pairing: bf!Changbin x female reader genre: angsty angst with fluffy ending warnings: body image issues (esp. regarding weight, hairiness, posture, sweatiness), mental health struggles, reader is a bit of an asshole, Changbin is a sweetheart word count: 1,4 k songs to listen to while reading: palaye royale – don’t cry enhypen – moonstruck i prevail – doomed ninety one – why’m sleeping at last – you’re enough a/n: to anyone who relates to these thoughts: I hope you find the courage to cultivate your own little Changbin in your head, who can fight those thoughts for you. Changbin is just my little safe place when it comes to body issues.

No, you were not gonna miss this train. You sprinted towards the closing doors, determined to make it to work on time. Just before the doors closed, you made it inside, the people around staring at you.

You found an empty seat and sat down, sweaty but feeling proud. As you took out your book you noticed you sat down opposite of an incredibly beautiful woman. It wasn’t so much her features that were pretty, it was more how everything about her seemed so incredibly well-proportioned. She also seemed to hold herself well, she definitely had good posture. Her shoulders were not drooping like yours often were. She also didn’t seem to sweat like you currently were.

A few years ago, you were deeply buried in your self-critical thoughts about your looks. Your mind didn’t need anything to attack every single thing about your body. ‘Your stomach is way too big’, ‘You’re way too hairy for anyone to be attracted to you’, ‘You should be ashamed of your weight’. Horrible stuff, day in, day out.

You’d worked long and hard to keep these thoughts and feelings in check. You knew there was no other way around it but to keep trying to be nice to yourself. Some days were easier than others. Today seemed to be a particularly tough day.

As soon as you looked at the woman opposite of you, all those thoughts you thought you had handled, came back rushing in without warning. ‘Look at her, she doesn’t look like a sweaty pig’, ‘You should suck in your stomach more, hers isn’t even visible’, ‘Sit up straight, you look awful’.

You were listening to every single thing your mind shot at you. You couldn’t seem to deal with them today and so you had no choice but to start believing all the horrible things again. They seemed true in that moment. You turned up the song on your headphones a bit more.

…

You’d made it to lunch, sitting next to a few colleagues, just chitchatting away. As you got up to get a second serving of the pasta bake, your coworker stated “A second serving, are you sure?”

She wasn’t a particularly good friend at work, but it was enough. It was enough to summon that dark cloud of thoughts again. ‘Nothing about you was or ever will be good enough’. She might as well have punched you in the stomach.

…

With enough distraction, panic about getting fired and more caffeine you’d made it through the work day. All you wanted to do now was get home, and lie down in front of your comfort show Gilmore Girls.

As soon as you shut your apartment door your bones seemed to get 37 kilograms heavier. You leaned against the door and took a deep breath.

“Honey?” His voice startled you. He poked his head around the corner. It was your Changbin.

“Hey baby… what are you doing here?”.

“Oh, I just went to the gym around the corner. By the time I was done I remembered this is usually the time you get home from work, I wanted to surprise you.” That smile, it melted away the tension in your forehead and shoulders. You got up to hug him. It was one of those hugs where you could let go, shifting almost all your weight on Changbin, who did his best to hold you together.

“Are you okay, honey?”

You didn’t feel like you could verbally express everything that was going on in your brain. “Yeah, of course”

He softly let go of your hug. “Then how about some dinner?”

“Uh, I’m not really hungry right now”

“Are you sure? You’ve worked all day”

You were getting more and more irritated the more he questioned you. “Yes, Changbin, I am sure. I am not hungry.”

He took a step back and put his palms up in defense. “Okay, okay… I’m just worried about you… You sure everything’s alright?”

A small grunt left your lips. “Yes, and I don’t want to be questioned anymore. Please just leave me alone” Your voice sounded louder than you intended.

And there it was: the hurt on his face. It wasn’t too obvious but you could read him. And he could probably read you. Which is not at all what you wanted right now.

“I need to leave.” You hadn’t taken off your shoes when you got home so you just opened the door.

“No, Y/N please talk to-” But you already shut the door on him before he could finish his sentence.

After a few steps you stopped for a beat to hear if he would come after you, but he didn’t. He knew you too well to assume you wanted to talk in a situation like this.

Of course, you knew you were behaving like an asshole. He didn’t deserve your bitchiness but it was all too much in your brain today. The thoughts, the anxiety, the depression, it all weighed too heavy on your shoulders today. Why was he even still with you?

You’d talked to him about your mental health struggles in the past, and he was always trying his best to ease the struggle. But every few weeks you started believing in the thoughts again and they were telling you to isolate yourself. Changbin didn’t love those parts of you anyways, so you deserved to be alone.

That got you thinking: Changbin sometimes had rolls on his stomach, he got sweaty at times. But that didn’t make you love him any less. You loved him for him, not because of what he looked like or didn’t look like. He made you feel safe and home.

There was a tiny voice on your head that said maybe, just maybe that was also the case for him. He never gave you much reason to doubt his love for you. So, what were you doing consciously sabotaging your relationship? Why were you walking around alone at night, instead of confiding in your best friend and boyfriend? How stupid of you.

It took you a good few minutes to find the way back to your apartment. In your emotional state you just walked wherever without looking about where you were going.

Eventually you made it back. You realized you didn’t know what to say to Changbin.

Before you could worry further, your apartment door swung open and Changbin stood right in front of you. He looked relieved. “Oh, thank god, honey, you’re here.” He engulfed you in a tight hug and lifted you off the ground. “I was gonna give you 15 minutes before going after you but I got too worried” He squeezed you a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry, Changbin, my thoughts are too much for me today.” Your voice was a whisper.

He let go of you to look at you. His eyebrows were raised and eyes big. “Will you tell me what’s going on in there right now?”

You nodded. It was time.

He took your hand and pulled you inside, on the couch.

After you somehow explained to him what’s been going on in your mind, you felt extremely tired but a lot lighter. A few tears fell down your cheeks while you were talking. Changbin listened closely the entire time.

“Y/N, please promise me, that the next time you notice these thoughts, you immediately text me. What you’re thinking isn’t the reality, not even close. I love you, and I love all of you, no matter what you look like. What you look like isn’t what makes you worthy, it’s being yourself. And I think you’re pretty amazing… and I am of course very objective in saying that so you can believe me… it’s based on scientific evidence.”

There it was, his stupid sense of humor you loved so much. Even in a situation like this he managed to make you smile without much effort.

“Oh really? I’d like to see this evidence someday, please?”

“Uh yeah sure, but I need to do one thing first…” He inched closer to your face eyes scanning your face. Then he gently kissed you, his hands holding your cheeks like you were a precious gemstone.

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thisisnotthenerd · 11 months ago

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as the fhjy premiere is upon us, i'm back with another edition of thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats. it's just the updates that are relevant, since relationship tracking is taking so long to do and i got sidetracked by polls for a few months. this will be sorted by the categories i have data for--you can look at the spreadsheet to find data for all d20 seasons. or you can read it on ao3. anyway:

player data:

runtime and episode data:

before the start of junior year, we have spent 88 hours, 40 minutes, and 14 seconds with the bad kids on-screen, including in oneshots. this is about 3 days, 16 hours, 40 minutes, and 14 seconds.

that's 41/221 d20 episodes, 22 of which were battle episodes.

we've spent 125 hours, 37 minutes, and 32 seconds in spyre as a whole, or 5 days, 5 hours, 37 minutes, and 32 seconds.

that's 57/221 d20 episodes, 32 of which were battle episodes.

cast appearances:

brennan at the top of the list, with 19 d20 appearances, 15 of those as a gm/dm.

next is lou, with 11 seasons as a player; 8 intrepid heroes seasons, 3 sidequests.

followed by ally, zac and siobhan, each with 2 different sidequests under their belts

second to last is emily, with 9, with acofaf

and in last is murph, with only 8. if aabria is in 2 of the 2024 d20 seasons, she's in the running to beat him.

seating preferences:

junior year tipped a lot of the intrepid heroes into a distinct preference, simply by setting them on one side of the table.

emily axford: strong left side preference (6/8), most commonly in L1 and L2. paired next to zac 5/8 seasons, and across from murph 5/8 seasons. fig sits in L1.

zac oyama: strong left side preference (6/8), most commonly in L2 and L1. paired next to emily 5/8 seasons, and across from ally 7/8 seasons. gorgug sits in L2.

siobhan thompson: weak left side preference (5/8), most commonly in L3 and R3. paired next to lou 7/8 seasons [doubled across 5/8], and across from emily 3/8 seasons. adaine sits in L3

lou wilson: even split preference, most commonly in R3 and L3. paired next to siobhan 7/8 seasons [doubled across 5/8], and across from murph 2/8 seasons. fabian sits in R3.

ally beardsley: strong right side preference, most commonly in R2 and R1. paired next to murph 6/8 seasons, and across from zac 7/8 seasons. kristen sits in R2.

brian ‘murph’ murphy: strong right side preference (7/8), the strongest of the intrepid heroes, most commonly in R1 and R2. paired next to ally 6/8 seasons, and across from emily 5/8 seasons. riz sits in R1.

character data:

given what the bts's have shown, there might be some changes to these that i'll update during the premiere, but as of now, this is a quick summary of the bad kids' data, including dnd race, class, level, highest stat, feats, and age. you can go through the thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats tag for my previous commentary on this data, or check out the spreadsheet.

i'm putting them at level 9 for now because that's what we left off with, but more than likely they're starting at level 10 or higher. we know about riz's respec, but there may be others that crop up during the season.

fig faeth: tiefling. lore bard 8, hexblade warlock 1. CHA. actor, lucky. 17-18

gorgug thistlespring: half-orc. berserker barbarian 8, artificer 1. STR. orcish aggression/fury. 18

adaine abernant: high elf. divination wizard 9. INT. spell sniper, war caster. 16-17

fabian seacaster: half-elf. battlemaster fighter 6, swords bard 3. DEX. sentinel. 18-19

kristen applebees: variant human. twilight cleric 9. WIS. human determination, inspiring leader. 17-18

riz gukgak: goblin. arcane trickster rogue 9. DEX. healer. 17

all of the bad kids have some magic now--the ladies are all full casters, while fabian is a split multiclass, gorgug is a 1/2 caster multiclass, and riz re-subclassed into a 1/3rd casting progression. still an even split of multiclasses and pure classes, though that may change. riz's re-spec has bumped arcane trickster up to the most common rogue subclass, with 6 arcane trickster characters, 4 of whom sit in R1.

and that's it! all of the intrepid heroes/bad kids data that i have updates for! see you all at the premiere of fantasy high: junior year tomorrow!

#dimension 20 #intrepid heroes #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats #brennan lee mulligan #lou wilson #ally beardsley #zac oyama #siobhan thompson #emily axford #brian murphy #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #adaine abernant #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #riz gukgak #dimension 20 meta

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lightseoul · 2 years ago

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all too much (i'm sorry)

synopsis. the last person you want to see is Bakugou Katsuki. the one person you need to see is Bakugou Katsuki.

cw. depression, suicidal thoughts, depressed!reader, gn!reader, college!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~21 years old), hurt/comfort

word count. 1.7k words

Your eyes shoot open, and the first word that pops into your head is a curse. Fucking great, you think, I’m still alive.

Weakly propping yourself up on your elbow, you reach for your phone to check the time.

5:37 PM. You napped for one and a half hours. You frown, then shake your head in resignation. Better than being awake for an extra one and a half hours, really.

You wince at the feeling of your parched throat, and you contemplate whether or not you should get up and start getting your shit together. Motivation’s been getting difficult to come by these days, though, and your eyes start shutting closed again, but you startle awake when your phone chimes with a new text message.

Patrol’s over in 30. Same time?

Fuck—you forgot. You and Bakugou have agreed to spend Friday nights together to catch up and prevent growing distant. Maintaining your friendship has been a lot of work, but both of you put in the effort, and as a result, your bond has only gotten stronger in spite of the busyness that came with his becoming a Pro Hero and your entering college three years ago.

Your fingers hover over your screen—maybe you should call it off. You’re not in the mood to see anyone, even Bakugou Katsuki. Not to mention you look and feel like shit. Having your best friend and just recently, crush (because apparently, the heavens wanted to fuck you up even more) see you in this state will indubitably be embarrassing.

After a few more minutes of tired contemplation, you finally type out a response.

I’ll have to take a rain check, Kats. I’m studying for an exam this Monday.

Sighing in relief and exhaustion once you pressed send, you drag yourself out into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water.

The ice-cold liquid burns your throat and your head throbs in response, but at least you feel a bit more awake and alive now.

You’re seated on your couch, mindlessly scrolling through your Netflix recommendations on the TV when a loud knocking breaks you out of your post-nap stupor.

You don’t have the time to feel annoyance or panic over who could this person showing up unannounced at the most inconvenient time possibly be because the incessant knocking doesn’t let up. You rush to open the door and find yourself face-to-face with an annoyed Bakugou, still decked out in his hero costume.

He eyes you suspiciously, “I thought you were studying.”

You try to feign nonchalance, but you end up gulping before you can even think about it. “I was.”

Normally, at this point, you’d step aside for Bakugou to come in and make himself at home, though usually, he’d be in civilian clothes after having gone to his own apartment to clean up and prepare, but today’s not normal. He’s decorated with a few dirt marks from patrol, and that omnipresent scowl he wears is still there, albeit less prominent.

“What, you’re not even gonna let me in?”

You toe at your house slippers nervously, “I really have to study now, Kats. I just woke up from a nap to take a break.”

He frowns, “That why you look like shit?”

Normally, you’d hit his arm in fake offense before bursting out laughing anyway. But again, today’s not normal. His comment is wounding when it’s usually meant to break the ice.

“I…” you start, but resort to shaking your head in defeat. You don’t have the energy for this. “Just go home, Katsuki.”

With that, you turn your back to him and beeline to your bedroom. You end up closing the door far harder than you intended, and it shuts with a slam. You wince at the sound, feeling a sudden pang of guilt shoot you in the chest. He didn’t deserve that, you think to yourself. It doesn’t matter, a second thought follows immediately after.

Sighing for the nth time that evening, you plop on the bed and close your eyes, willing yourself to go back to sleep and hopefully, maybe, not wake up again.

Your eyes flicker open at the soft clanging noises outside your bedroom, and you immediately shoot up upon realizing that you forgot to lock the door before walking out on Bakugou.

In spite of yourself and the raging headache that’s been plaguing you on and off for quite some time now, you hurriedly climb out of bed and grab the nearest makeshift weapon in your room.

A blow dryer. Good enough.

Quietly, you tiptoe towards the door and, slowly, open it while thinking prayers for it not to creak. You didn’t even notice your shoulders were tensed up until you lock eyes with Bakugou through the crevice, the sight of whom immediately soothes your nerves despite yourself.

You stand upright, toss your blow dryer onto your bed, and step out of the room reluctantly. Under the white light of the kitchen, you can now see what he’s doing. Donning your yellow apron over the lounge clothes he keeps in your apartment, he’s chopping up green onions and other vegetables for what seems like a soup dish.

It smells heavenly, and your stomach grumbles in agreement.

“And here I was thinking you were gonna sleep through the entire night already.”

A whirlwind of emotions rushes through your body—relief, fondness, longing, embarrassment, guilt—but the one emotion you can bear to focus on, and is the most familiar, is anger. And you don’t fight it from taking over.

“I thought I told you to go home.”

The sentence comes out in a low tone, and somewhat clipped, though you didn’t mean it to sound like that. In spite of himself, you know Bakugou worries, and he definitely won’t be heading back now if he knows something’s off.

True enough, he visibly stiffens at the sound of your voice, and it hurts to see him uncomfortable around you. Another wave of guilt washes over you. Though it gets masked, yet again, with a familiar sense of apathy.

“I heard you,” he shifts on his feet, “but you sure as hell weren’t gonna cook yourself a decent meal, so I stayed to make sure you ate.”

You expected him to respond with some anger himself, but he’s uncharacteristically calm. It’s making you feel even more ashamed of how you’re acting. It’s infuriating. He’s infuriating.

“Well,” you croak as you shift your eyes away from his face, “I didn’t ask for your help, so you can go home now.”

Silence settles between the two of you. It’s unnerving.

You force yourself to look back at Bakugou, who’s now frowning. “I’m sure you had a long day,” you finished.

Unable to hold eye contact any longer, you turn to head back to your bedroom when Bakugou reaches out and grabs for your wrist.

You turn to face him, ready to spit some venom you probably don’t even mean, but the words get stuck in your throat when you see tears rimming his eyes.

You hurt him.

Yet, he proceeds in a calm, but stern, voice: “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, you finally lose it.

“I don’t fucking know, okay?!” you shout, ripping yourself from his grip, “Quit pressing!”

Bakugou doesn’t flinch, nor does he step back from you. He just keeps his ground.

You took his silence as a sign to continue. “I think I’m depressed. I don’t know. I just feel like a fucking corpse every day and I hate the fact that I have to wake up and go to school and talk to people and take care of myself as if the pain isn’t there!” you cry, “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Has this been,” he clears his throat, “has this been going on for a while now?” He remains calm, though you hear the shake in his voice when he asks.

You sigh, shaking your head. Shouting drained the last bit of energy you had left in you, “I guess. I don’t know—I just wait it out until I start feeling better and functioning like a normal person again. And when I do, I start wondering if I just imagined all that shit.”

The weight of the situation and your admission finally dawns on you in the silence.

You clench your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to cover your face in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Y/N.”

You brace yourself for some harsh, reprimanding words but they never come. Instead, your breath hitches when you feel a hand fall softly on your head, and an arm pulling you into a hug.

You can’t believe it—you half expected Bakugou to recoil, or even leave, in shock and disappointment, but he’s hugging you. He’s hugging you.

You can’t help it—you burst into tears. Bakugou’s quick to rub soothing circles on your back as you cry into his shoulder. You’re quickly forming a wet patch on his shirt, but you don’t pay it any mind in the meantime. You didn’t realize how much you’ve been suppressing your pain until now. It’s liberating, yet at the same time, the all-too-familiar feeling of shame is creeping in at the back of your head.

Shame over your situation. Shave over having let yourself go to this extent. Shame over breaking down. Shame over not being able to clean after your own mess. Shame over hurting the one person you love the most.

You clench your fist against Bakugou’s chest. It’s all too much.

His voice is low and gentle when he speaks up, “We’ll get you help.”

The mention of seeking help is enough to make you tense up.

“I don’t know, Katsuki,” you shake your head. “I’m scared. Of it not working out. I can’t afford treatment not working out. I don’t know what else I would do.”

You feel him press his lips to your forehead, fleeting, “It will. We’ll find a way. And I’ll be right here with you.”

At a loss for anything else to say, you mumble a quiet apology.

Bakugou scoffs, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Stop saying sorry, dumbass. I want to do this for you.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mehehee #this basically wrote itself #pls mind the warnings!!!#bakugou hurt/comfort

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