#hope everyone has a great week ahead!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leah-lover · 4 months ago

Text

Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!reader

Who is going to replace Lewis Hamilton? This question has taken the f1 media by storm for a whole season. Some believed it would be Andrea Kimi Antonelli, while others hoped for Max Verstappen, or Carlos sainz. However none of them expected you. A woman would join F1 in one of the most decorated cars in recent years. A woman would take the seat of the legendary Lewis Hamilton.

The support was significant but the pushback was overwhelming. Many people applauded you for entering a male dominated field. They went on saying how much of a role model you were to young women, how you would change the f1 world forever, bring in new fans , and make f1 a more equal place in real life not just on paper. The other drivers welcomed you with open arms in their interaction with you or in the way they talked about you most importantly lewis.

As a result of your new found fame you were asked to join events and panels talking about women's sport or women in sports. Throughout your pre-season you were fully booked from training to preseason testing to the media event.

The only time you ever thought about something other than how radical what you are doing is or what you were going to do next was when you saw a particularly stunning person.

A tall blonde woman with a great mind you took a glimpse through when she answered the questions she was asked in the BBC panel you were on. She was educated, beautiful, well mannered, beautiful, very good with her words, and very very beautiful.

You answered your questions to the best of your ability, took some pictures and headed towards the green room. When you came in you looked at the table and saw snacks and one lone mini chocolate bar. As you extended your hand to grab, you were met by another one going for it too. You extracted your hand quickly and looked at the eventual winner of the mini chocolate bar. It was her, the blond beauty that goes by Leah Williamson.

“ Uhmm sorry. Here, take it.” Said the smiling young woman.

“ No it's fine, you go ahead, I shouldn't anyway. It's pre-season.” You responded.

“ We can split it then. I am sure half of a mini bar isn't going to hurt.” She added.

You two then split the bar. “ I am Leah Williamson.” She said as she extended her hand. You told her your name and shook her hand.

“ You were very good there. Very good answers.” You complimented Leah.

“ You too.” She said shyly.

“ Do you want to get out of here?” You ask.

“ Does that line work on everyone you meet?”

You laugh nervously. “ No. I don't use it much. Uhmm, I am hungry and I want a buddy to go get food with.”

“ I am sorry, I have to go to another press conference. But maybe someday soon.”

You hand her your phone so that she can save her number in. When you look at the name she saved her number as “ arsenal's number 6.” Which gave you a glimpse of her sense of humor.

Your season started a short while after you two started to date. You clicked instantly and one might say it was love at first sight since it only took 6 dates over 2 weeks for you to reveal that you two loved each other.

You both understood that your careers were busy, her with arsenal's and the lionesses and you with traveling around the world and driving your fast car.

The start of your season was expectedly slow. You were decent throughout the qualifiers. You started at p6 in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Australia, all the way through china. You were a little overwhelmed by all the media attention and scrutiny. But by round 8 you scored your first p4 which you interchanged by p5.

You were very excited for your home race on Silverstone. You were excited by the presence of your friends and family, and most importantly your girlfriend. While other lionesses were invited in my McLaren you insisted on Leah being in the Mercedes garage with you.

Knowing your girlfriend was going to watch you for the first time, knowing she was there for you and only you, gave you more motivation than you ever hoped for. You got in your car for qualifying ready to impress. As soon as you left the garage, you pushed the car to the limit which gave you your first ever pole position in F1. You were ecstatic and the team was happy for you too.

Race day was crazy, you couldn't see your girlfriend because you had to prepare yourself for what probably was going to be a rainy race.

The track was dry and empty in front of you. You were in pole, you just had to keep your position. As soon as the light turned green you pushed as fast as you could. Your team informed you of a few crashes behind you and an angry Max Verstappen in a red bull. The red bull team expressed their concerns about foul play in my result in qualifiers which led max to have an alleged grudge. You didn't think much of it, you just focused on staying in p1.

“ Careful Max is being reckless trying to overtake you “ said one of your guys on the radio. You couldn't let fear creep in after all your girlfriend was watching. She to whom you promised the win.

You went on denying him every opportunity to overtake and in time the race was just about you and Max going head to head with all the others being a full lap behind. You kept thinking of Leah and the sex you two would have after the win and how proud she would be of you. That was what gave you the edge over him .

You two changed tires at the same time. While Mercedes was faster, Red Bull was fast too. You speeded out of the box, felt a shock wave throughout the entire car. You didn't register what happened quickly. Your brain went silent then you said some words to yourself.

“ Silverstone, Leah, pole, win, box, max.” You thought. The car was getting hot, and you were getting light headed. You heard a voice through your ear but you couldn't register what they said.

A few seconds passed before you saw an ambulance, you heard sirens and saw white foamy gas. The kind of gas they used for fires.

“ Fires, I crashed, the car is on fire.” You thought again and quickly tried to get out of the car.

You wanted to get up but couldn't. You were dizzy. You were going to die.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you

703 notes · View notes

hollandsfavbabe · 6 months ago

Text

Wet & Wild II

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: SMUT, porn with a plot, sexually explicit language, cursing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, nipple play, locker room sex, swimmer lingo

word count: 5.5k

part 1

tags💜: @midnightwrriting @no1runawaymilkdad @ihave-aboringlife @blahhucantmakeme @laniirackssss @blood-bloss @lmaoyani @geminiflanagansblog @ruyaas-world @hrlzy @povobsessed @stephstephstephsteph @chakin @10ava01 @lem0ns77 @velvrei @hdhdhdndhdndk

masterlist

a/n: sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried to include everyone that wanted it. lmk if you have questions on anything. hope you enjoy!!

A week has passed since the last time you’d seen Art and you try to rid any thoughts of him from your mind as you enter the women’s locker room, the day so early that the sun has only just risen. You’d only spent a few hours with him, but he feels more important to you than a mere acquaintance, especially considering you’d let him have more of you than most people would ever get to. You try to tell yourself it won’t matter if he shows or not, but deep down you know that it will. Regardless, overthinking won’t help you in the water so you shove it down as you steadily pull on your tech suit, careful not to rip the delicate fabric. Your headphones are currently blaring your hype playlist in your ear, but you slide them off once you notice movement to your left as Chloe opens her own locker.

“You ready?” she asks you, pulling out her own racing suit from the depths of her swim bag.

“Not really,” you admit, giving up on stretching your tight suit to your full body frame for the time being as you opt for a tie-back bikini top instead. Your shoulders are ever so grateful. “I’m so nervous.”

“Why? Because of your race or your little tennis boyfriend?” she teases, lips quirking into a classic Chloe smirk. As your best friend, she was the first and only person you told about your interaction with Art at the party and, of course, she had been teasing you about it since. While during practice it was amusing, you are not in the mood for jokes right before a race, especially one of such importance.

You furrow a brow, shaking your head to signal that it’s not the time for such jests concerning the blonde. As the good friend that she is, Chloe immediately understands as she moves to help tie your suit straps, a simple task that you are unexpectedly failing at due to the pressure of the meet ahead of you.

“You’re going to do great,” Chloe comforts, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder once she’s finished with your straps. “I’m sure of it.”

“What if I don’t break the record?”

“Who cares? You can try again next time. If that’s the worst that can happen, you don’t have anything to be nervous about,” she smiles in assurance. “Besides that record is as good as yours -” she makes a gesture to your tech suit that has the most magical of time bending abilities if wielded by the right swimmer. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Nothing can stop you now.”

“Thanks Clo.” you grin at her appreciatively, and though your nerves don’t settle in the slightest, you feel more comfortable living in cohabitation with them now. They’re so much easier to manage when you’re not alone.

It’s only minutes before the rest of your team has arrived and you have hours before your event is scheduled to take place, yet it only feels like seconds before you’re being seated in the waiting room amongst your competitors, tech suit finally fully on. Rousing music plays through your headphones though you are sure to skip any songs that seem even the slightest bit romantic. You try to slip into the right headspace, the line between confident and cocky that has always aided you in not panicking just before you step up to the blocks in the past. You try to find it, using any method at your fingertips, but it’s no use. You can’t seem to find it no matter how hard you try and suddenly it feels as if the weight of the world is crashing down on you when the door opens and your event is called. You stand with the other women and together you line up behind the blocks.

The sun shines much higher up in the sky than it had been when you dove in during warm ups, blaring down to reflect off the red of your cap that bears the Stanford logo in white along with your last name. You take your rightful place behind the starting block of the middle lane, and though you already wrote your heat and lane in black sharpie on your forearm just to be sure, you can’t help but worry that you’ve already missed your race.

It’s only when the head announcer calls your event on the loudspeaker that you stop dwelling on it, her voice echoing through the stands that seem so much taller now that you're in the center with so much pressure resting solely on you. You rake though the rafters to your left, hoping to be comforted by the sight of Chloe or one of your other teammates until you realize that they are more than likely preparing for their own events in the warm up pool.

It's then, just when the swirling hurricane of emotions is hurtling toward you, that you see him. He’s seated in the first row, blonde curls circling his head like a golden crown and a wide smile lighting up his face when he sees that you’ve finally spotted him, one that you can’t help returning as he mouths sweet wishes of luck to you.

Art came. He actually came!

The storm subsides and all of a sudden you’ve lost all your inhibitions. Instead of buzzing anxiety, you are filled with a new light and the confidence of a record breaker. It’s all so clear with Art in the stands and as his presence wafts away your storm of worries, you come to the realization that you can do it. You know you can.

The whistle of an official blares through the speaker and on cue you slide on your goggles and mount the block. You’re really starting to feel the compression of your suit as you bend into your diving position, waiting for the magic words. The signal that it’s time to race and leave everything you have in the pool as you go.

“Swimmers, take your marks…”

You take one last breath before the sound blares and you dive off the block. It all comes naturally to you and with the help of your suit, you find yourself breaking out farther than ever before.

You only have a few strokes until you’re at the end of the pool when out of nowhere, the girl in the lane beside you starts to catch up to you until the two of you are neck and neck and it doesn’t escape your attention when she flips a split second before you’re able to.

You know it’s not about winning, you told Art that, but it’s as if a fire has been lit behind you and you’re suddenly determined to go for the gold. You push yourself harder than you ever have before and though you're not sure where the energy has come from, you know it’s exactly what you need. You’ve failed if you’re able to get out of the pool without stumbling.

Before long you catch up to the swimmer beside you, taking your first and only breath as you summon the last of your power, pushing through the water like a jet-ski. At once you’re behind the flags and unlike before, there’s no one beating you to the touch pad resting on the side of the ending wall as you slam your hand down and come up for air.

The crowd erupts with applause once you finish and at first you’re under the impression that it’s because of your win until your eyes glaze over at the scoreboard and nearly burst from your skull at the sight of the result.

You had accomplished your goal. There it was, a time faster than the Stanford record glowing right beside your name. But you didn’t just pass it by a few flimsy hundredths. Your new record was more than a second faster.

You can hardly believe it and you know if the proof weren’t right in front of you, there’d only be disbelief instead of this crashing wave of accomplishment and pride. Though you’re in severe oxygen debt from the race, you find yourself screaming in excitement at your gigantic accomplishment.

“We have a new record!” an official announces through the loudspeaker once the other girls have returned to the starting wall, followed by your name and new time. You search for Art again once you’re out of the water, all but failing to suppress your grin as you find him clapping in the stands and smiling down at you as if you were the most precious stone in the world.

Your teammates are filled with the same immense pride when you join them in the locker room once the meet is over. You’ve since changed from your tech suit, switching out the tight fabric for your cozy hoodie, tie-back bikini top, and a towel tied around your waist. The suit in question now hangs in your locker with the rest of your clothes that you had been in the middle of putting on before the congradulations began.

“I fucking told you!” Chloe shouts, clapping you on the back like you had just won the lottery. You imagine such a feat couldn’t match the pride you feel now.

You almost say that you can’t believe it, but the words stall on your lips. You actually can believe it, this is something you’ve been working tirelessly for. And now, after a long hard race, the record title is finally yours.

“Did I see a certain blonde in the audience?” Chloe smirks, nudging you as you wave goodbye to one of your other parting teammates.

“Maybe,” you drawl, trying your best to hide your growing grin, but the thought of the man makes you feel like flying through the air as year worth of buried emotions bubble up to the surface. You haven’t felt anything like this for a very long time.

“You know what that means…” Chloe whispers to you after you pull away from a hug with one of the other girls who like everyone else, is on her way out. The night’s party is being hosted at a house that’s a longer commute than usual in honor of the women’s tenth annual win and unlike your teammates, you aren’t in any hurry to get there knowing the a portion of the celebration will surround you.

“Drinks on you?” you guess, pretending you are clueless as to what she’s getting at. You hope it’s enough to deter her from whatever inevitably grotesque she’s about to say, but you know it’s to no avail as she laughs and shakes her head.

“Nice try,” she smiles, nudging you with her elbow. “I meant that he’s definetly going to fuck the shit out of you next time you see him.”

You cringe bashfully at her words, hitting her on the shoulder as she backs away from your shrunken form.

“Chloe!” you chide, though you both know no real anger lies within your tone. She’s been like this since the day you’d first met her: always the same old loving, indecorous Chloe.

“Just saying.” she shrugs before turning to say her goodbyes to the last lingering one of your other teammates.

You turn to open your locker, finally ready to change out of your damp towel until you’re startled by the clacking footsteps of unfamiliar tennis shoes heading in your direction. You assume it’s another random spectator who had bypassed the many signs clearly stating that the locker room is for athlete occupance only, but at once you find you’re very wrong when you turn to see who it is.

Art stands before you and though it was his decision to invade the women’s locker room, he looks as surprised as you.

“Hey,” he says, almost breathlessly. You’re thankful when you notice that Chloe is fully dressed to your left, just pulling on her knit cardigan.

She smirks smuggly at the sight of him, swinging her bag over her shoulders before sending you a wink and a swiftly muttered, “Told ya.” Without another word she exits, leaving you and Art utterly and completely alone.

“You realize this is the women’s restroom, right?” you jab as you hear Chloe shut the door behind her, though it’s all in good fun. As far as you know, no one is coming anywhere near the locker room for the next several hours.

“I was waiting outside for you,” he states, gradually lifting his hands from their tense place in the front of his jean pockets. “I thought everyone else had already come out, but I guess I was wrong.”

“That’s just Chloe,” you laugh, gesturing in the direction of the exit path your best friend had just taken. “Don’t worry, she won’t tattle.”

He chuckles, amused by your jest before he takes a slow step closer to you. Like a sparkler to your stomach, you become acutely aware of the tension between the two of you, growing like the blush colored blossoms of a cherry tree in spring. “I’ve thought about what you said.”

This makes you smile.

“And?”

“You were right.”

You’re heart flutters, so light that if it weren’t encaged within your chest you’re sure it would’ve floated away. He pauses to take another tense step in your direction, now only a foot away.

“Do you know how Tashi and I met?”

“I don’t, actually,” you say, words laced with a twinge of sarcasm.

“Right,” he laughs, realizing the folly behind his question. It was more rhetorical than anything, but he begins the story like a spider spindiling its web. “Well it was only about a year ago. We met at the US open. Patrick and I both went after her and you know what she told us?”

You wait for the answer.

“She said she’d give her number to whoever won our match. That was the first time I ever lost and it was to my best friend.”

“That’s who was at your match, wasn’t it?” you ask.

Art nods solumnly, though the pain that had been etched on his face from your last meeting has vanished, as if the thorn in his side has been replced by a budding rose.

“I didn’t know Art, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he urges. “It’s all okay now. I’ve realized that none of it matters anymore and it’s all because of you. If I’m being honest, I thought maybe if I won my match, then Tashi would leave him. But it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to be the winner she’s running to. I don’t want to have to earn her love.”

“What do you want?”

There’s a pause, a distinct moment where the glint in his blue eyes from the bright lights above conveys a clever message to you than any words could. Then he speaks.

“I think you know what I want.”

It’s all the confirmation you need to know that he’s finally playing the same game as you. He’s unbearably close now as his head reaches up to gently rake through your stringy wet hair. You welcome his touch, breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his fingers as his lips hover just above yours. If you’re being completely honest, you haven’t stopped fantasizing about it since the night of the party. Since the moment he had kissed you.

“You were right,” he whispers as his hot breath tickles the tips of your top lips with every placid word. “I don’t care about winning anymore. The only point I want to score is you.”

“That’s a really bad joke.” you remark, pointing out the obvious from his corny declaration. But Art doesn’t share your smirk, his face settling in an expression that’s much more sensual.

“I’m not kidding.”

You feel the immediate shift in energy as your smirk fades to parted lips and Art’s longing gaze moves downward from your eyes. What little space left between you is squashed as you allow him to pull you even closer, noses prodigy one another as Art’s fingers drift from the tips of your hair to cup the back of your head. It’s almost salivating the way he looks at you and you’re suddenly eager to remember what he tastes like.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks through a whisper, so quietly that if you hadn’t been right in front of him, you surely wouldn’t have heard it. It’s milliseconds before you’re nodding exuberantly with more urgency than a speeding ambulance (something you might need if your heart decided to beat any faster).

“Pleas-” you start, but Art’s on you before you can even get the word out, covering your lips with his until all you can taste, smell, and feel is him. Everything is him.

He’s gentle with you at first, testing the waters as his lips pass smoothly over yours. You lift up your hands to invite him in, squeezing the toned flesh of his arms before you drag them slowly up to the nape of his neck. You toy with some of the curls that rest there, twirling them between your fingers while sinking into the sounds he makes in return. He lets out a soft moan into your mouth, and at once his tongue melds with yours. You match the new intensity, swallowing each low groan.

Unlike your last encounter, it’s Art who pulls away this time, forcing you to scowl at him in confusion, eyes squinting and lips puffy. He twists his head to the left, glazing at the wide space behind him as he slowly moves the both of you backwards to the nearest flat-board bench until one of its edges grazes the top of his shin.

“What are you doing?” you ask through a whisper, leaning forward so that your lips titillate the tip of his ear which sends inadvertent shivers through his whole body. Art turns back to you, smirking as he leans in for another sloppy kiss, earning a salacious sound from you before his lips shift from yours and trailing from the corner of your mouth to the line of your open jaw where his teeth scrape against your skin. You can feel him grinning as he makes you emit the softest of moans.

“I want to make up for the other night. I said some things - I’m not proud of.”

You give a giddy chuckle as you cup his cheek, amused by the fact that he thinks his past behavior was inexcusable until Art’s head dips to suck on the tender skin of your neck and you can’t help but whine. You’re glad you have the lung capacity of a swimmer otherwise you might’ve fainted from the near constant lack of oxygen.

“Art, honestly-” a sudden gasp is ripped from you as you feel him nipping at your sweet spot, crumbling like a tin can under pressure. “-it’s fine.” you barely manage to finish your sentence.

He places a few more steady kisses to the column of your neck, working his way down to your clavicle. You tip your head back, an unintentional effect from the sensation of his lips as he lays the last just near the edge of your collarbone before raising his head to look at you and it’s almost as if he can see right through you.

“Does that mean you don’t want what I’m offering?” he questions, glancing down at the steady movement of your chest as it rises and falls beneath your hoodie. You don’t recall when in the last few minutes he managed to move his hands down to your waist, but you can feel them now as clear as ever. He grips the sides of your hoodie, nimble fingers sliding under the thick gray fabric until they find the skin beneath and his touch feels like fire, sparking flames along your hips with every small caress. It’s so hot that you aren’t sure how Tashi could pick anyone over him. You aren’t sure how anyone could deny him for that matter.

“No…” you admit and at once his hands start to travel higher and higher until they reach the bottom band of your bikini, inflaming the whole of your torso as he meets the straps still tied neatly together in the middle of your spine forming a perfect bow. His fingers follow the provided path, meeting at the center of your back as he starts to twirl one of the tails of the knot around his pointer finger.

“May I?” he asks, his tone so deceivingly politely as he gently tugs on the string. He waits patiently for your consent as his eyes pan up from your chest to your expression. You can’t get the words out, already too overwhelmed from the sizzling sensation of his touch, but you make sure to nod with the utmost enthusiasm. Who were you to tell Art Donaldson no when he was so eager to touch you? And you, in turn, were so eager to feel him.

He smiled at your agreeance and instantly unfastened the tie of your suit, pulling on the strand until the entire bow came undone. He lips pressed against yours once more before he settled down on the bench and raised the hem of your hoodie just enough to expose your stomach, peppering kisses to every inch of you.

You released your hold on him to assist in pulling the hoodie over your head, tossing it behind you where it lands in a crumple pile near the metal door of your locker. Without any tension left to hold it up, the triangle cutlets of your bikini slump to reveal two perfect pebbled nipples, leaving the towel looped around your waist as your only source of coverage.

Usually you’d feel insecure being so bare for a man that’s practically a stranger, but from the dazed look Art gives you as he takes in the sight of your figure, you find that you don’t mind it in the slightest.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Art mutters almost involuntarily, sending shock waves down straight to your core. The words came bursting out before he could find the strength to hold them back, his brain too busy processing your beauty to have any control over any sort of filter. You return your hands to his head of blonde curls just as he presses one last kiss to the center of your abdomen, exactly below your rib cage.

The movement is so sudden that you can't count the seconds that pass before he grabs at your breasts, each hand perfectly cupping the mounted flesh. His mouth is slower, trailing kisses up the valley of your chest.

His thumb works the sensitive skin encircling your nipple, running over the hardened peak in an unperceivable pattern that forces another well earned moan from your lips. It’s encouragement for his other hand that immediately drifts upwards to mirror the actions of the other. Every pinch and slight movement is like gasoline to your fire, all pouring in a downward stream to the part of you that grows more needy with every passing second. You could cry from the sensation of it all, the intensity only growing when you feel him pass his tongue over your left nipple. You try to suppress any sounds this time, teeth biting down on your lip as you curve your head back, but it forces its way out despite your efforts. You grip the hair fixed to his crown and pressure him forwards so that he remains in place.

“Shit, that feels - really good.” you praise, your phrase strung together like an old beaded bracelet as changes in pace break apart each word. When Art does part from your breasts, it’s to press wet kisses down the line of your abdomen as flickering thumbs replace his mouth. He pauses as he reaches the softest portion of your stomach, stopping just above the knot that is covering your very bare lower half, and though you don’t recall informing him about your lack of undergarments, you are sure that he already knows.

“I need to taste you,” he whispers against your skin.

He doesn’t ask you for permission anymore, but instead glances up at you from his spot on the bench and it’s everything you need to understand what he wants from you. And of course you want it. You’re sure if he wastes a second longer to tend to your throbbing center, you might just pass out in his sturdy arms.

“Please, Art, I need you,” you’re able to get out, though it’s breathy and delicate from the way that he’s rendered you.

He’s quick to oblige as he takes the top of your towel cover in between his perfect white teeth and yanks the fabric hard enough for it to fall to your feet. He’s on you in an instant, one of his hands moving to support your shaky frame as he slides a knee between yours to spread you open.

He coaxes every cry out of you with his tongue, wet and skilled as he traces it along each fold, his nose bobbing against your swollen clit not dissimilar from his left hand that still lies atop your breast. You press him closer to you as he swirls his tongue around you, over and over and never in the same way more than twice in a row. It’s overstimulation at its best, overwhelming you until you're trembling in his grasp and before you know it, you’re riding the edge of the wave to pure pleasure.

“Fuck, Art! I’m- I’m-“ you can’t even finish your sentence, he feels so good. He hums against you in amusement, the vibrations of his voice meeting your core in a melting sensation that you find yourself grinding into uncontrollably.

“On my tongue,” he promotes against you before licking a steady stripe along your center. It’s then that you know you’re done for. Your cry is almost inhuman as you leap off the edge, diving into the heart of the wave as Art finally relinquishes his hold on your breast and uses the newly unoccupied hand to pierce into your arousal, calloused fingers curling into you as he helps you down from your high. Even after you cum you know you still have more in you. And you can tell from the growing bulge in his pants that Art isn’t done with you either.

He stands to kiss you with dampened lips as the taste of your own arousal invades your senses, but you withdraw from the embrace after only a few seconds to ask him your burning question, desire already regrowing like a flooding river of need.

“Art, I need you,” you start, pulling at the canvas material of his button up. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before pressing his mouth towards yours and back you up to the wall of lockers that are neatly arranged behind you.

Granted by his permission, you unfasten each button of his shirt until it’s enough to pull it off him which he happily helps you accomplish. You can’t tell who’s more desperate for you to feel the dense muscle of his chest as he places your palms face down on his pecs, granting you the assurance you needed to explore his body.

You take your time, squeezing and prodding just as he had done to you until one of your hands is low enough on his stomach to palm him through his light wash jeans. The soft whimper he returns is nearly enough to send you over again. He pulls back as he lets you undo his belt, eyelids fluttering after you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped the only thing keeping you from him. You’re quick to pull him out, not at all shocked by how hard he is and it’s a major ego boost knowing it’s all because of you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers against your lips as if you needed more proof of his longing for you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Please,” you beg. “I need to feel you.”

Art is quick to oblige as his calloused fingers grip the soft skin of your hips, so rough that you can feel every callus from his racket as he pushes you against the lockers, thrusting up into you. While he’s dying to continue, he hesitates so that you can acclimate to his size. It takes no longer than a second as you release a guttural groan and wrap a leg around his waist, aiding him in hitting even deeper within you.

“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head back against the cold metal as Art nips at your neckline again. You’re drowning beneath the blissful rocky wave and from the sounds that he’s making, almost re-enacting one of his matches just for you, you can tell that Art is too.

It happens so quickly that your mind struggles to understand it, spinning wildly as the wave pulls you under once more along with Art who finishes in a similar amount of time. You lean into his chest, breathing heavily as you take in the heavenly scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne and slightly wincing as he pulls out of you slowly. He ducks to pick up your fallen towel as he starts to clean you up.

The realization that it’s over doesn't quite hit you until Art helps you get dressed, buckling his belt back up only once you’re decent and in return you hand him a spare shirt so he doesn’t have to redo every button on the one you’d nearly torn off him.

“Thanks,” he smiles gratefully, pulling on your shirt which fits tighter around him than it would around you, though it’s nothing to complain about as every miniscule ripple of muscle is on display.

You’re both thinking the exact same thing as you exit the locker room, hand in hand with the same guilty expression on your face as you pass an incoming janitor who is too busy scowling to ask Art what he was doing in the women’s locker room. It’s obvious from the encounter that it won’t be your last and as Art drives you to the planned frat party, you’re even sure that it’s not the last of the night.

Time proves you right as you’re seated next to Art a few weeks later, curled into his side as you share a large plate of the appetizer combo at a local Applebees. It was the only thing open after a long day of matches and meets and steamy rendezvous in between. The two of you were going on steadier than the trunks of ancient trees as you continue to support each other, you attending all of Art’s matches ( even if it meant skipping a practice or two) and Art cheering for you at all of your meets. You’re not sure if it’s the consistent attendance, but the both of you were only getting better at your respective hobbies by the day, particularly Art who hadn’t lost a match since meeting you.

You’re both jokingly arguing over who gets the last quesadilla when a familiar woman stops near your table, joined by a man you’d never seen before, though you recognize him from several of Art's detailed stories. He straightens beside you, gathering himself to greet the new company.

“Hey guys, long time no see!”

“Art,” Patrick nods to his friend before smiling to you and offering his hand, one that you take without a second thought. “I’m Patrick.”

“I know,” you admit. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You must be Tashi.” you turn to the girl and you can’t help, but analyze the peculiarities of her expression. It’s clear she is content with her own man of choice, but something about the way she looks at you tells you that she’s still involved in the tennis philosophy you managed to screw out of Art. She looks at you like you’re a player she’s lost to. And from what Art’s told you, you're certain it’s the first time Tashi has lost.

“It’s nice to meet you.” she fakes a smile before pulling Patrick to the door, careful not to stay long enough for the conversation to lead anywhere important. It’s awkward and strange, but you know it’s for the best. You’re not particularly interested in anything she has to say anyways.

“Did you see that?” you ask, pointing in the direction of the doorway that the couple had used for an easy escape.

“What?” Art wonders, looking towards you in anticipation.

“I think she’s looking for a new winner.”

Art leans in to peck the apple of your cheek, assurance that no matter the circumstance, he’ll never be available to the likes of Tashi Duncan again.

“Must be because I’ve won,” he reasons, “-because I have you and there’s nothing she can do to separate us.”

You smile at his sweet words, praying that he never ceases to use his talent for affectionate poetry as you lean in to kiss him. Whether he wins or loses or even never plays again, you couldn’t care less about the outcome of his career. As long as Art’s happy, you’re prepared to take on any challenge you’re put up to, whether on the court or in the pool.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic #stanford art!!!#art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fic #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers #challengers fanfic #swimmer life #swimming #smut #mike faist

1K notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 3 months ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | one.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.2k

—warnings: cussing/mature language, this is gonna start off kinda slow but i promise it'll get spicier lol, say hello to the rest of the professors in this fic ouweeee 🤪, some general bioengineering research terms, very vague mentions of mice research work, more of a glimpse into the yunho x san x iseul dynamic

—a/n: i'm also working on wooyoung's mini series so pls check it out! the next update will prob go up soon! ily <33

"Did you figure out your rotation for this quarter?" You walk alongside Jiung as you head to the Harvey Center, where Professor Choi's lab is located. Both you and Jiung had just finished up walking around campus to get your steps in, but to also check out the classrooms for all your upcoming classes this quarter and pick up books at the bookstore. Most of your classes were in familiar buildings, while two were entirely new.

"Yeah, I gotta meet with one more professor then I think I can send off my final decision." You nod. Jiung is holding his bag of books and yours, not wanting you to haul them around campus with how heavy they can get.

"That's good."

"Yeah, hope so." He repeats. "Are you meeting with the other professors this week just to see if you wanna rotate in any of them instead?"

"Mhm. All in one week. I guess it makes it easier on me since I don't have to wait on anyone. I can decide by end of the week."

"Are you seeing them in person?"

"Just Professor Choi and Professor Kim. Everyone else said Zoom." Jiung nods.

"Wow, Professor Kim in person?"

"I heard he really values in person meetings." You chuckle. "Which is nice? Maybe it's cause he's the department chair."

"That, too. He just seems like that kinda person, though. He's super active in all the events."

"Truth."

"Did you like rotating in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter?"

"I did. He was really cool. People in his lab are cool, too. I just.. I don't know? I didn't have a specific project I could focus on. Felt like I'd have trouble fitting myself in there and finding something to work off of. Everyone was great though, don't get me wrong. Just didn't click for me."

"Makes sense. You wanna be happy and feel like you can thrive somewhere."

"Yeah, exactly. Plus, after talking to Sunwoo and Belle, I think my interests lie more in Professor Choi's lab." You look down at the bags before looking at the Harvey Center ahead of you. "You know you don't have to wait for me, Jiung. You can go to the apartment if you want."

"Nah, I'll wait. I don't have shit to do anyway." You swing the front doors open and Jiung instantly plops down on a free chair near the lobby doors. "I'll be here."

"Shit, I just realized I think his office is downstairs in the basement. I don't know if I have access."

"Where's Sunwoo or Belle?" You quickly pull out your phone and try to dial Sunwoo or Belle to help you. Unlucky for you though, none of them answer.

"I guess they aren't here for the day yet. They didn't pick up." You sigh. "Why didn't I think about this early on?!"

"Relax. It's fine! Poke your head around, I'm sure someone is there to let you in." You pucker your lips in dismay, hoping it doesn't cause any issues and make you late for your meeting. You should've asked for assistance in the first place, but it kinda blew over your head when Professor Choi responded quicker than you expected.

"Welp. Let's hope I don't fuck this up already." Jiung pats your head.

"You won't." You wave to him before heading into the elevators, down to the basement level of the building. It's quiet, and you don't see many people walking around despite it being close to 10am. As you approach the door to the basement, you peek into the window to try and catch a glimpse of anyone passing by in the visible hallway. To your luck, the hallway is dead and there doesn't seem to be any moving heads in any of the nearby lab rooms. You let out a sigh and take out your phone, wondering if you should just email Professor Choi to ask for assistance.

No, maybe someone will pass by in the next 5 minutes.

Give it 5 more minutes, then panic and email.

You tippytoe and peek through the window once more, muttering small curses to yourself for being so unprepared with your meeting. Now, he's probably going to think you can't—

"Y/N?" You turn to see Professor Choi behind you with a soft smile on his face. He's dressed in a grey turtleneck, black slacks and boots— large silver square-shaped frames sitting on the bridge of his nose. He has his hands in his pockets, a heavy leather bag slung on his shoulder. You're surprised he even knows it's you; then again, who else would be peeking into the basement at this time?

"Oh my god, hi—sorry." You pause, slightly embarrassed having Professor Choi catch you looking through the door's window the way you were. "I just realized I didn't have basement access so I was trying to see if anyone was around before bothering you."

"All good. Perfect timing, hm?" He taps his badge against the reader and swings the door open. "After you." You give him a curt bow as a thank you, slowly walking into the basement hallway. San trails behind you, and he takes note of the way you're dressed. You're in some wide-leg white jeans, a cream colored vest and some black platform loafers. It's cute, really. He gives you another toothless smile when you stop in your tracks and wait for him to lead the way. Hopefully, he didn't catch your eyes when you quickly skimmed his outfit again— he was tall and he was well-built, it was very obvious with that turtleneck he had on. He smells of a woody cologne, mixed with notes of jasmine and patchouli. It's not overbearing, but it definitely makes its presence known next to you. "How's your day been?" He asks and you just nod.

"It's been alright. I just went to pick up my books at the book store, explored around campus to make sure I knew where my classes were at. There's a few buildings I haven't had class in."

"That's good. Getting prepared for the quarter well I see."

"Trying to, at least." He chuckles as he does an abrupt turn to the right and swings a door open. You follow him into another office space, where desks are lined up amongst each other. You find a few people sitting around, typing away on their desktops. It's too bad Sunwoo or Belle wasn't around. You'd probably feel a bit less nervous seeing their faces before the meeting.

"What's up, Professor Choi!" One of his lab members calls out. San does a quick nod and throws up a wave just as he unlocks his office door and steps inside.

"Come in." He holds the door open for you once again. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I'm all over the place with these progress reports and finalizing class details."

"No worries! Honestly doesn't look messy to me." You look around seeing a stack of papers on his desk. Otherwise, everything is neat. He's got all his awards framed up and lined along the back wall. Books on shelves near his desk. A couch off to the side wall with two small pillows. A small coffee table. A mini fridge. Two chairs for guests at his desk. It's roomy, but not super roomy.

It smells like his cologne.

"Have a seat." He pulls out one of the two chairs directly in front of his desk. You sit and place your bag down on the ground, fixing yourself as Professor Choi sets his bag down and sits at his computer chair. "Gotta apologize again, it's my first meeting of the day so I don't have everything out and ready."

"No need to apologize, I get it." You chuckle and he smiles.

"Your CV was really impressive." He says as he's pulling up said CV. He's looked at it enough times to have a photographic memory of it, which is the first for him. Right away, he can tell you'd work well in his lab. You have a good head on your shoulders, smart. Can contribute a lot. He just knows sometimes.

"Thank you." You smile and it makes San's smile grow bigger.

"So, why do you wanna explore those areas? Tell me a little bit more about your experience with everything. Computational analysis, mice, 2P and opto-stim-neural circuit work. All that good stuff." He sits back a bit, his full attention now on you instead of your CV on the screen. You feel your hands get a 'lil clammy the more his eyes focus on you, your lips feeling a 'lil more dry than usual. Shit, he is attractive.

"Sure!" You quickly shake off the nerves and begin to tell him about your experience and interest in bioengineering. It all started when the field was briefly introduced to you in high school, and your curiosity grew to enormous levels when you found a few schools that had the specific undergrad program available. You've talked to a few seniors about their experiences, like Sunwoo, before solidifying your decision to move forward with the major. You tell him how you took a break after graduation to get some more hands-on experiences through two internships and a full-time job, working on in-vitro mice work, computational analysis and building and maintaining 2P microscopes. Then, you realized you really wanted to get back on track and pursue your graduate studies. You tell him about your rotation in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter and how you enjoyed it, but you were having trouble figuring out how you'd fit in the lab. When you talked to Sunwoo a little more about what he's been up to in Professor Choi's lab, your interest in opto-stim peeked, having been Professor Choi's niche.

It's a nice, easy conversation. You find that Professor Choi isn't as intimidating as you thought. He chimes in with questions every now and then, making it a smooth two-way convo.

"Ah, Professor Bahng? That's my guy right there. Learned lots from him." You chuckle.

"He's brilliant."

"He is, he really, really is." He nods. "But I totally get it, it's good to experience things in order for you to understand what you really want or how to spend your time wisely."

"Exactly." You tilt your head and look at him. "That's pretty much it for me, though. Your work is great. I'm really interested in learning more and diving deep into opto-stim. I know the basics, but haven't gotten a chance to work with it. Sunwoo's project seems to encompass a lot of that, along with the other aspects I've worked with."

"That's right. His project has been on a roll, same thing with Belle's. I can see you working between the both of them, most of your time with Sunwoo, though. I think you'll fit the best with his, and I can see a lot of potential avenues coming out of it. He's been asking for some help, too." He chuckles. "Why don't you talk to Sunwoo and Belle a little more? Then all four of us can meet in the next couple of days to finalize project ideas and details. Should be good to start the rotation afterwards if it all goes smoothly." Your eyes light up.

"Really? I-I mean, yes. I'll do that."

"Mhm. Let me know when you're ready? Just send me an another email."

"Thank you, Professor Choi." He smiles at you.

"You're very welcome. Do you have any other questions?" You look at him, head tilting out of curiosity.

"Um, not for the project. It's something more personal, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go for it." He leans back again and rests his clasped hands on his lap.

"Why did you pursue this field?" San is having to pause because out of all the times he's met with students, people [besides formal interviews], no one has asked him that question. No one has asked him directly— people like to assume they know him because his name is out there, but not once has anyone asked about his experience.

"Hm." He hums. "It's probably gonna sound a little cliché and everything, so don't judge me." You giggle and shake your head. "It just felt like my calling? Kinda like you." When he smiles, you find yourself captivated by his dimples. They make everything about his smile so captivating and so, so charming. "I think you might know this already, but my dad was a biology professor. He always told me to challenge myself and think outside the box, and I think the early exposure to his career definitely shaped my path. He'd share his knowledge with me and try to ask me tricky questions. Make me think about what's around me, how things can be improved. Better understood. Then, I learned about bioengineering and tried to better understand it. Open new avenues for things that haven't been studied well yet. Just took lots of risks and tried things out. Failed lots of times before getting the hang of things."

"That's amazing. Your parents must be really proud."

"I hope so." He laughs. "Thanks for asking."

"Oh, no. Thank you. I wasn't sure if I overstepped with that question."

"What? No way. You're actually the first to ask and I appreciate that."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to get out, confused as to why he would say that. Has no tried to ask about him or get to know him a little better? Maybe it was just you, but you definitely thought building good, personal connections would bring more advantages than not— first and foremost, bringing comfort and ease, especially to any new environment. Who would wanna work in an awkward, tense setting?

"I mean it." San laughs. "I appreciate it. It's nice when people take a second to view me as a human and not a robot who is constantly churning work."

"Course." The both of you maintain eye contact for a bit and it makes you feel so, so nervous that he's just looking at you. And he kinda is just looking at you. Observing you. He finds himself admiring your look once more; the hair, your smile, your nails. Cute. He knows he shouldn't, but truthfully, he can't really help himself when a beautiful woman is in front of him in general. He is a man, and a man who enjoys eye candy. "Anyway, I know you're probably booked and busy today, so let me get going."

"You're okay. I don't have anything until the next 30 mins, don't feel the need to rush."

"No, it's okay. I should totally let you be." You stand and smile at him as you sling the strap on your shoulder and tuck your bag close. "Thank you again, Professor Choi. I'm excited for what's to come."

"Me too. It'll be great, I know it." He stands, hands in his pockets as he follows you towards the door.

"Thanks." You turn to look at him, and he's not too far from you. "See you soon.. over Zoom?" You assume that since the basics and introductions are out of the way, it'll probably be more convenient for Professor Choi to do a Zoom meeting. Lo and behold, he surprises you with a:

"In person would be nice." He smirks a bit. He does enjoy his in person meetings; they're more productive that way.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna waste your time."

"Never." He shrugs a bit. "I mean it. It's always better to talk in person, anyway."

"I agree." You smile at him once more, hand on his door handle. "See you soon."

"Have a good one, Y/N. Feel free to email me if anything comes up."

"Appreciate it." You give him one last look before you swing the door open and find Sunwoo just about to settle down at his desk.

"Y/N! Professor Choi! Assuming it went well and I'll get the help I've been begging for?" San laughs.

"Yeah. I asked Y/N to talk to you and Belle about potential projects and to email me once she's ready so we can all meet and finalize details."

"Good with me."

"Good with me, too." San gives you both a small, toothless smile before walking back into his office. "So, how'd it really go?"

"Good." You approach Sunwoo's desk. "He's not as intimidating as I thought. Kinda. Really laid back, though."

"Yeah, he's super chill and easy going. Super supportive. You'll enjoy it here." He waves his phone. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"I forgot I didn't have access into the basement."

"How'd you get in?"

"Professor Choi saw me peeking through the basement door window." Sunwoo snorts.

"Amazing first impression." You playfully pinch his bicep.

"Hate you." You pout. "I'm nervous."

"For what, dude?" He laughs. "I promise you, it's not that bad at all. As long as you put in the work and do what you need to do, everything will play out fine."

"What if I don't get into the lab post-rotation?"

"Don't say that." Sunwoo smiles. "You'll be good. Promise. You're smart and hardworking."

"We'll see. Maybe you'll realize how much of a pain in the ass I am when we work together."

"True." You glare at him and he laughs. "Kidding. Ready for classes to start soon?"

"No."

"That's the spirit." You chuckle. "Anyway, let me know when you're free this week. We can walk around the lab while we talk about projects. Belle is usually here around the same time I am so I'm sure we can grab her whenever." You nod. At this point, Chris and Yeosang walk into the room, the two in good spirits and engaging in lively conversation right before knocking on San's door.

"Okay. I'll text you later, then. I gotta get back to Jiung, I left him upstairs."

"I saw." He chuckles and salutes just as he diverts his attention to the data on his desktop computer.

"Hi Professor Bahng, Professor Kang." You smile at them in passing and they nod in response.

"Hey Y/N! Nice to see you around these parts." Professor Bahng says with that usual happy tone of his. Professor Kang is a little more shy, but never fails to acknowledge you with a smile or soft 'hello.' Chris presses his ear to the door before laughing and swinging the door open, greeting San as casually as they can before the door shuts.

"Whattup!" Chris plops onto San's couch while Yeosang takes the other end.

"Nothing much. Just finished my meeting with the rotation student. You know her, actually."

"Oh, Y/N? Yeah! She's crazy smart. Think she'll do some good work in your lab." San nods.

"So, what's the plan you wanted to talk about?"

"I need to start planning the symposium for one of the grants. It needs to happen within the next month. Was hoping you can help us, give us a few tips? Maybe do a talk?"

"Where are you planning to do it?"

"Right next door at the Acacia Center, was hoping one of the huge conference rooms would be open."

"Probably the best place to do it because they can cater for the event, too."

"Who else can we recruit to do a talk, though?" Yeosang sits back and lets out a sigh. "Jongho?"

"Try seeing if Namjoon is free, that'll definitely draw some people." They all laugh in unison knowing Namjoon's power. "And make sure you do the whole email blast with flyers everywhere. Let people pass it along."

"Yeah, okay. But, also, don't hate me." Christopher looks at San with an awkward smile. San knows though, he knows very well what he's hinting at.

"We've already talked about this. I don't care."

"I know, but still. You're one of my good friends and I'd hate to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Well, Yunho is always gonna be there and I don't expect things to change. We're always gonna have to work together despite what happened."

"I don't know how you do it, I'm sorry." Yeosang says, slightly shaking his head as he sinks into the couch a little more.

"I agree. You're strong, man."

"I have no choice." San laughs. "Besides, I stopped letting that consume me a long time ago. It's none of my concern anymore. As long as I can get my shit done without issues and minimal contact, I couldn't care less."

"That's real, honestly." Chris lets out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna ask him to do a talk."

"Go for it. Will probably be good for the grant, too." San sighs. He meant it when he said he stopped letting the entire thing consume him a long time ago. And he does have to interact with Yunho whether he likes it or not; it's not like he's gonna give everything up just because he can't stand some petty drama from the past. Besides, he promised Namjoon he was okay. He promised he wouldn't cause issues even though Namjoon didn't expect any. But, it did hurt. He's not gonna lie— there are days when he still questions everything and he wonders why things unfolded the way it did.

He just knows better now, and can actually brush it off without it affecting his mood, his surroundings.

"I gotta keep going through my list of people."

"I can ask around, too." San says. "Do you want me to see if the big conference room is free?"

"Yeah, please?" Chris laughs. "They give you everything."

"No, they don't." San rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

"Damn near." Yeosang adds.

"Any of your lab members wanna do a poster presentation?"

"Uh." San shuts his eyes in thought for a second. "Let me ask, I think Yoon might have some good data to present."

"Okay, let me know." San nods. "You guys free for lunch later?"

"12:30, maybe?" Yeosang stands and looks at his watch. "I gotta get to my next round of meetings 'till then."

"Same. Text me where to meet?" Chris stands and nods before throwing up the peace sign.

"Will do. Thanks for the tips and for looking into the room."

"I'll let you know what they say." Both Christopher and Yeosang nod just as they walk out of his office and leave him to his peace. He makes a note to send an email after his next meeting about the room and catering, knowing how hard it can be to reserve a room within a month's time frame at this campus. He'll do what he can to help Chris, though— that's one of his good friends and somebody who didn't turn their back on him after everything that's happened. Even Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho. Namjoon. Of course, everyone works great together. Everyone is civil when they need to be. But San knows if he ever needed them, they'd be there for him in a heartbeat.

They'd be the people he could turn to without question.

When it comes time for lunch, San is barely getting out of his meeting at 12:30pm. He finds Chris, Yeosang and Mingi at the café right across the way from the Harvey Center, falling in line with them just as it grows during the lunch hour rush. They grab their food and plop down at a shaded table off to the side, greeting a few familiar faces and passing students.

"What's up?" Yunho passes, nodding at the table and giving Chris' shoulder a quick massage. Iseul follows behind, not paying the group any mind. Yeosang, Mingi and Chris share their own 'hello's,' while Yunho and San continue to play the silent treatment with each other. Yes, San will work with Yunho if he needs to. He'll be civil, he'll act like nothing ever happened. He'll act like their relationship wasn't severed after everything that went down. But, if he's out here minding his business, eating lunch with friends— he'd rather not bump into Yunho and Iseul and make any small talk. Simply just cause. He's done a lot of work to get past that and he doesn't want anything to do it with anymore.

"Anyway." Mingi says, making Chris snort.

"Anyway. Ya'll trying to hit the gym sometime tomorrow?"

"I'm down." San says, scrolling through his phone. He'll scratch some time out of his evening to hit the gym since it's been a few days since his last gym session. At least, he plans to finalize his class schedule before end of the day today— he'll have a little more breathing room once he submits that to the department.

"No way, you're not serious!" Your voice echoes as you exit the café, laughing along with Jiung and Felix over Felix's random encounter that he was giving you details about. San diverts his attention to your group, recognizing the outfit, the voice. He sips on his drink and continues to watch the smile on your face build, the animated hand gestures you use, the way you so attentively listen to every word your friends are telling you. Oddly enough, he finds that seeing you is a good distraction. He feels a little more relaxed post-5 second Yunho and Iseul encounter, a small subtle smile creeping up on his lips when he sees you throw your head back in laughter. It's soothing.

That's probably the moment he realizes you are enticing.

And to be honest, he's not understanding why he feels a certain pull to you; it's so uncommon and so, so foreign, to him. He doesn't even think he felt this way when he first started dating Iseul. Don't get him wrong— he did love her, he did feel the usual giddiness, the honeymoon phase, all of the above. Everything progressed as naturally as it could with that time.

But with you, he's finding a certain itch. He's not sure how to relieve himself, especially when he knows he shouldn't. He can't.

It'll be trouble having you around, he's very aware of that. It'll be a test for him, the boundaries he creates to make sure you both don't cross that line.

He can't.

Still doesn't mean he won't.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom

298 notes · View notes

yunohentai · 1 year ago

Text

night lights. warnings: noncon/cnc ?, pervert heeseung, boob guy hee, reader's older (like 2 years?), reader's shy and sophisticated, virgin reader + experienced hee, dumbification, she says no (which is like noncon) but is enjoying it so its cnc, clicking pics and recording sex too ig??, indication of blackmailing towards the end, he masturbates alot. this is like real filth with some wild kinks. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK + minors dni please.

Lee Heeseung has huge secrets, everyone thinks he's a perfect boy with great grades and a promising future ahead... but little do they know. He's the biggest pervert you could come across. Just 19 yet he's obsessed with sex. He lost his virginity at the age of 17 to a 20 year old girl who rode his dick in a huge crowded party. he was so obsessed with the feeling that since then he's been having sex every week, different pussy every time and well he got blessed to have a huge, thick cock which he knew how to use well, oh and his amazing looks... got all the girls on his dick, ready to let him ruin them.

While you, Y/F/N... knows only the main thing. 'Sex is done to reproduce.' without too much of an idea, and neither you've ever felt any "dark" desire. Innocent little sweetheart who is focused on building up a career and leading a stable life. You love shopping, studying English literature and posting on Instagram. Your tits are so huge. It's as if your tits are honey and boys are bees, they want you and your body so much... but you don't wanna give it up.

Heeseung and you were in the same college but have never crossed ways until today. You were wearing a sage green dress till your knee, which showed alot of your cleavage, your sister always bought you outfits like those in hopes you'll finally have a boy in your life.

You were on your way to class while reading through your 'Wuthering Heights' notes quickly, not noticing your way as you bumped into a guy, falling on top of him. It was obviously none other than, Heeseung. It was a very bad collision. You fell in his lap, your arm hurting as he just stared at you with his mouth wide open, eyes on the main attraction, the huge tits that were almost slipping out of the dress.

Unknowingly his hand moved towards your chest, fixing your dress as you gasped softly and looked into his eyes. he felt your cleavage and the softness made him harden a little as he got up and helped you up too. "I'm so sorry." he apologized and bowed, eyes stuck on your milky white legs. "I'm sorry too! Please forgive me!" you felt really shy and guilty as you bowed, your breasts coming all out again as he moaned lowly and made you stand straight again, "hey it's fine. anyways, I'm heeseung. Freshman." you smiled at him while fixing your dress.

That fucking smile. His heart fluttered, and butterflies filled all of his stomach and he smiled too. "I'm Y/n, Junior." he nodded his head as her cheeks burned with shyness. "I hope we become friends." he winked and walked away, leaving you a mess because of how well that handsome boy treated you and even cared about how your dress revealed your private parts! so considerate!!

He had left straight for the bathroom as he then sat in cubicle, gasping to himself. " Oh wow" he said to himself as he then started wanking, he couldn't help thinking of her. Heeseung tries to use his negative emotions like, anger and all because he works his ass off all the time. So he mostly channels those emotions sexually, kinda hot.

~ ~ ~

The day had ended as you were by your locker, putting in your books and taking the one you're gonna study at home. as heeseung came running to you. "Oh my god- listen y/n do you major in English lit. ?" he asked her, acting all worried. as you nodded your head in confusion. "why?" you asked and he leaned on the lockers. "Okay so our teacher is making me get tutored by a very annoying girl so I told him I'll find someone else, and while looking for someone else I saw you. Do you mind?" he told her with a pout on his lips, and the look in his eyes, that could make everyone melt. "Hmm... I'm not that good at it but I can help."

heeseung smiled. " thanks alot!! btw, your number?" he asked with a pretty smile and you nodded while softly blushing as you both exchanged numbers and shook hands.

~ Timeskip to a month or so later ~

You and Heeseung sat in the hallroom of your rented apartment as you helped him out with the freshman English lit syllabus, wearing shorts and sleeve less top that barely kept your tits inside. "Okay let's take a two minute break." you said and took your phone scrolling through your instagram. you were wearing a really soft shade of pink which highlighted your hard nipples because of cold and your cleavage. Heeseung pulled out his phone and subtly clicked alot of pictures of them, from even different angles.

"hey, i'm gonna use the bathroom." he said and you nodded, very busy on your phone as he quitely went towards the bathroom but sneaked into your bedroom. he knew you won't look for him for the next 10 minutes, so he went into your wardrobe for like the 5th time this month and stole another pair of your panties, it was a lacy white one as he sniffed it and moaned. "Like always. even her fucking panties smell heavenly." he said and put it in his pocket as he went back outside.

he was a bit shocked to see you stretching from your spot, your complete breasts visible and ass in the air, as you lazily tried to grab the charger and your earphones. your hard pink nipples rubbed on the wool carpet getting harder as he felt his dick harden, he looked down and saw the boner. he sighed and coughed, making her gasp and sit back up, fixing her clothes. "Are you alright?" he asked and you nodded. "Let-let's get back to work!" you said and he shook his head. "Wait y/n let me help you." he said and smirked, he knew you were gullible and he could atleast get to touch your tits tonight.

He sat down, way closer to you than before. "Straighten your back." you were about to question but he shushed you and you nodded, giving up. You followed his command as he then leaned down, now his face was almost buried in your chest and your eyes widened. "Hees-" he silenced you and grabbed your tits using his hands. "Heeseung stop!" you said in an angry tone. "just let me do it, y/n!" he said and removed your shirt with one hand and held your hands tightly with the other one. he was so ecstatic to finally see the tits.

he hooked his lips on your nipple and started sucking on it aggressively while caressing the other one, you could feel wetness spread down between your legs. Confusion was what you felt, what's happening- why am i loving it..? she let out a string of hot moans as he grew harder and harder, he then sucked her tits really good, the nipples un-hardening slowly. he then pulled away.

"see. that's how they un-harden" he rolled his eyes and you looked into his eyes. "oh... thank you... heeseung.. can we conti-continue?" he shook his head. "I'm going home." you nodded as he left.

you didn't know or understand this feeling between your legs, as you went into your bedroom, touching between your legs and gasping. "Oh god- i'm just gonna sleep-" you gasped and hugged the pillow between your legs falling asleep.

And well in your sleep, you humped that pillow, thinking it's heeseung's thigh. oh your first wet dream!

while heeseung thrusted his dick into your panties, and also wanked himself off, moaning and grunting your name. how you moaned, your scent, the smell of you in the panties, your tits, your innocence, your beauty.. everything turned him on so bad as he grabbed his phone and wanked himself more and faster, watching you boobs.

~ The next week ~

For the full next week you were acting weird. turning red whenever heeseung was around, and not even avoiding him at all, trying to get closer to him. While heeseung enjoyed the attention and continued to secretly steal your panties and click lewd pictures of you.

For example, He dropped his fork down on purpose and went down the table, where you sat with your legs open wide and enjoyed the food as he clicked a photo. Then when you were busy looking for something under your bed, he got a picture of your perfect round ass. Oh and when you thought he was in the bathroom and sheepishly pushed your hand inside your shorts, feeling and caressing her clit. that photo made him feel so fucking turned on. he litreally caught you touching yourself, he thought. And last, when you had left your main door unlocked and he got in, you had taken off your lens and were showering, you didn't even see him when he got the most lewd of all pictures and videos. Photo and video of you squeezing and scrubbing your tits and them bouncing etc.

He was in love with your body and with sexualizing you. He was excited to fuck you and feel your pussy.

Today you went over to heeseung's so you could help him out with the work and studying as his exam was approaching. you wore the tightest and revealing dress today. it was till your thigh and super tight on the breast region making them pop out more. you had no idea why you were doing this but dressing up for him was fun.

you rang the bell and smiled as he opened the door. "hey y/n, welcome" he greeted as you walked in, taking of your jacket and hanging it. heeseung was done with life now, you're wearing a peach dress till your thighs which was flying everywhere because of the fan, showing him your black underwear and the fact your tits were spilling out and your nipples were visible, you weren't even wearing a bra.

he was now almost offended, she acts innocent? and then dresses like that? is she fooling me.. he pushed away the thoughts and led her into his bedroom as the two sat down and today you were helping him finish his sketches for submission. his arm was pressed in the region between your breasts as you led his hand and helped him sketch. "see, that's how you do it. you're bad at this." you said and continued to lead his hand, as your tits then rubbed on his arm.

That. drived him insane, but he held back and decided to play the same game with you. you giggled at his bad drawing and made fun of him. "Oh yeah? You're so mean" He said and started to tickle you as you giggled and fell backwards onto his bed as he was on top of you tickling you while you giggled and bounced. His eyes were stuck on your tits. "OKAY STOP STOP NOW."

He stopped and you looked into his eyes, seeing a certain look on his face which scared you and brought that same feeling between your legs. "Y/n, Can I?" he asked leaning in to kiss you as you let the thoughts leave your head and pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and let him lead.

His hands were next to your head as he softly kissed you, slowly speeding up and biting your lips. His hands ranged lower while touching your thighs and touching you sensually as you made out with while breathing heavily. Soon the reality hit you as you pulled away and tried to push him off of you. "heeseung no no-"

You were resisting him but the soft look in his eye had now been replaced by something darker, something more scary. Chills went down your spine and your pussy fluttered. "Shh" He whispered and started to leave a trail of harsh bites kisses from your chin to your shoulder blade. "I've been waiting for this moment. Don't fuck it up for me."

"Heeseung stop, let me go." you said as a few moans left your mouth too. He rolled his eyes and slapped your face as you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. With one swift moment he threw everything that was on the bed away and pulled you closer to him.

"Are you nicely gonna take it off or should i tear it off?" He asked as you looked at him with doe eyes hoping he'd stop but the need in your eyes stood out to him more. "Fine." And there was your dress, left only in shred around your thighs.

Your tits fell out with a small bounce as he licked his lip at that view. He shimmied off the shreds and your panties to the side as you tried to stop him, few tears forming in your eyes. I want to feel more.. you thought but tried to kick him off of yourself. "Please stop this!!"

His hand moved between your legs harshly as the other one held you down, he rubbed your clit harshly and waited for your wetness to grow so he could put his fingers inside your walls while you complained and cried. His lips were abusing your tits like an animal, biting, pulling the nipple and kissing them. You were moaning and rubbing your hips against his fingers while he thrusted them harshly.

"It- hurts.." You cried out with your eyes closed and he smiled. "Just the way my dick used to hurt watching you in those tiny clothes love." He said and continued abusing your tits and pussy. The tears weren't there because of disgust or any negative feeling, you were crying because you were actually liking it. You knew your dad would kill you if he found out you consummated before marriage.

He was just there admiring your beauty as you threw your head back and moaned softly to his touches. He moved a bit away and stopped touching you as you looked at him. He was rummaging through his side table cupboard as he pulled out a vibrator. You were confused as you watched his click a button and put it into your pussy. "OH GOD-" you moaned and threw your head back.

He then took off his own clothes and started to rub his tip while watching you get off. "Need to get my dick wet myself because you're too dumb to do it for me." He tsked. He noticed how the area around her breast and her face had turned, there was drowsiness in her eyes. "M-my belly-" you moaned as he then stopped to pull the vibrator out.

"Please stop it heeseung... this isn't r-right" You whispered as his hands moved behind your head, and he grabbed your head by your hair. His lips were inches away from yours as he whispered. "I don't care." and there he was, pushing both of your hands above your head and pushing your legs wide apart.

You could feel it, all too much. Even the smallest of touch and the smallest sound in the nearest area, you could feel it all, hear it all. You closed your eyes tightly, slowly fighting the grip his hand had on your hands while he just slid his penis inside you, your faces inches away as a few more tears fell out of your eyes. "I hate you" You whispered out as you felt rippling pain with his soft motion. "D-DON'T!" Heeseung stares at you as you complain about the slight pain.

"Be a woman, Y/n." He whispered as he slowly started to move, taking his time and let the pain turn into pleasure. The moment it did change, it was too clear. You couldn't protest anymore as your hands moved to his shoulder, scratching and wanting him to increase his speed so bad but no word left your mouth except the moans.

"Fuck. this feels so good. so so good" he panted out like an excited child, but in a deep voice. You could feel the shivers on your back as you shook underneath him, letting your breasts bounce and jiggle with each and every hard thrust. Heeseung continued to pound into you senselessly, his eyes stuck on your breasts well it shifted to see your face twist into a pleasure-ful expression. "Gorgeous"

His hands were free now so they dived lower, rubbing your clit while he moved his hips graciously rubbing against THE stop. You felt these overwhelming feelings for the first time in your life, you knew you could just explode anytime and then there came the tickles in your belly. "My belly!" you gasped as you felt his pace increase, it was indicating your coming orgasm and well also how deep his dick was into you. It could be seen when he thrusted inside. "m-my god-"

"You're all mine now" he smiled, watching his cock create the bulge in your belly, proudly. He groaned when you clenched a little too hard on his dick. It twitched inside of you, as you felt him paint your insides white. That feeling broke your control too as you felt all of your tension and stress evaporate along with the "liquid".

You felt free, but little did you know by putting that small camera right in the correct corner... he might have changed everything, and made sure that you stay with him and only him.

#heeseung smut #heeseung #lee heeseung #heesung x reader #heeseung x yn #enhypen legal line #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagine #jake smut #jay smut #enhypen hard thoughts #sunghoon smut #nct smut

1K notes · View notes

bb-eilish · 1 year ago

Text

Dirty little fantasies

pairing; master!anakin skywalker x fem!padawanreader

warnings; Fantasies, pinning, corruption kink, virgin reader, dom! anakin, sub! reader, nipple play, creampie, hand kink, dirty talk, praising, degradation, cunnilingus

a/n; i’ve never written for anakin before but i love star wars and i love writing smut so here u go!

Y/n was honestly surprised she ever became a Jedi apprentice. She was much older than the younglings, but Obi-wan and his own apprentice, Anakin, pushed for her training anyway. The council questioned who would be training her, as all of the masters already had Padawan of their own. Her hopes shattered when Master Yoda pointed out the obvious fact.

She was told the force was strong within her , not sure what that meant, y/n smiled and became excited anyway.

"Master, my Padawan is surely ready for his test. He has my full confidence. He will be able to train her." Obi-wan stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as Anakin nodded, a serious expression scorched onto his face.

The council all had similar curious and questioning looks, but nodded anyways. "Alright, we will allow it." Master Windu sighed, putting his hand up. Y/n's eyes widened and every fiber in her being felt on fire, this is the most exciting thing she's ever experienced, and it hasn't even started yet.

The three of them exited the room and immediately a hurl of thank you's and smiles gush out of her towards the men. Their faces softened as they smiled.

—————

Y/n was now an adult, though, she wasn't very young when she became an apprentice, only several years had passed. Anakin was a great Master and she felt very lucky. The way everyone talked about him was fascinating, they praised him left, right, and center. They even became closer than she expected, being closer in age than other Padawan and Master pairs made that entirely possible.

"Master, wait up. Why are your legs so long." Y/n complained as she jogged up to Anakin's side once more, she swears he can take two steps and be a mile ahead of her. He chuckles before saying, "You ask that every time we walk together." Her nose scrunches at his teasing. But at the same time, her heart skips a beat and she swallows quietly. Though, she tries her hardest to keep down the way her body practically yearns for him. The hardest part is keeping the thoughts, the oh so delicious thoughts about him, to a 0 whenever he's near. The force is amazing in so many ways but a real pain in the ass when all she wants do is day dream about him.

"Great job by the way, the mission wouldn't have gone as well as it did without you. You're becoming a considerable Jedi." He looks over at her as she thanked him. He can't help but think about how much she's grown while being under his wing. In power and physically. Anakin was no liar, he couldn't possibly deny the fact she has matured into a fully fledged woman, Padawan or not, he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had to push down the thoughts as well.

Anakin was fully aware of her daily thoughts. It made his day whenever he could know what she was thinking before she even entered the room. They were always innocent and random, until recently. Y/n clouded her thoughts much more, and at random times of the day and night, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up, goosebumps would frost his skin and he had no idea why. The thoughts he could read were innocent in nature, but all about him. What he was wearing that day, how he decided to style his hair, certain things he said to her. His ego inflated each time and it made him even more arrogant and confident.

But alas, Jedi's were not allowed to become attached. He wondered if he needed to remind her of that, but he decided against it. Having a crush on him wasn't a crime.

—————

Anakin waited for her at her door that morning, he always does when they train at this time, which is only a few times a week. As he neared the door her thoughts became more apparent, at first she was busy with brushing her hair, then it was her tying her robes, and then they drifted off to him. He could see she was thinking about the time he had to help her untie the small knot she made in her robes. It made him smile, it was almost impossible to untie it. But his smile slowly faded as he realized her attention, unwavering, was directed to his hand. Not him untying the knot in general per say, but the way his calloused hand and metal one gripped the fabric, and how his very visible veins bulged through his skin.

He could sense how hard she focused on it, and how the thought of his hands sent her spiraling into day dreams. He was about to knock to end his spying before something caught him off guard. The waves of want that echoed from her, he could feel the stuttered deep breath she let out as she thought about his hands on her. How they would feel to prod at her most sensitive areas as he spoke downright sinful words towards her.

He felt like the air was knocked from his lungs as she thought in detail about the things he would say. The hair at the back of his neck reacted first, the goosebumps came second. "You're my prettiest girl , aren't you?" "Such a slut for me." "Use your words, angel." "You're mine, only I can make you feel like this." Anakin roughly shook his head before he breathed in and knocked on her door.

The thoughts ceased and his shoulders untensed because of it.

Y/n's door opened and there she was, smile as bright as ever as she greeted him. "Good morning, Master. A bit late aren't you?" She questioned, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand.

He mustered up a smile as well as he answered, "Apologies, I was talking with Master Yoda." He patted himself on the back for not being suspicious as he lied through his teeth.

—————

Training was different today. No doubt it was about what he had walked in on this morning, but he tried his best to act like something wasn't bothering him.

Sparring was especially different, he was acutely aware of whenever he even placed a finger on her. She didn't seem affected at this but he knew. He knew the things she wanted him to say to her, say to her when his hands memorized her body, set her skin ablaze in their wake. It had a carnal desire simmering in his gut as he gazed at her sweaty form pant from the work she was being put through. So when training ended he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face helped the heat on his skin, but not the heat starting to grow in him.

Anakin fell pray to his desires, now instead of her imagining what it would be like to be underneath him, it was him imagining what it would be like to be on top of her. Looking down to see the look in her eyes as he touched her, made her his. The sounds she'd make as he stuffed her full. The mere thought had his pants tighten significantly. Would she cry as he stretched her out? Would she beg him to keep going? Better yet, would she submit herself to him, his mercy?

He manages, somehow, to collect himself before he leaves.

"There you are, Anakin. There is a last minute mission I need you and Y/n to do" Obi-wan told him as he lead him to the holotable. "Do not let him out of your sight, we suspect he's behind Senator Amidala's assassination attempts. He knows what you both look like though, so make sure he doesn't notice you." He explained further, Anakin nodded, going into serious Jedi-Master mode.

"I won't fail you, Master."

—————

After Anakin explained the plan to her she nodded along and followed his lead to his speeder.

"He lives in-" He pauses as he points to the apartment building they both come up to. "That building, there is two doors leading out, one in the back and one in the front. I'll take the one behind it." He parks the speeder where he could get in it quickly, but isn't suspicious. "We're close enough to speak through the force, so if something happens let me know immediately."

"Yes, Master."

He nods at her before speedily walking to the other side of the small apartment building. She pulls up the hood of her robe and tries to look the least inconspicuous as she possibly can.

—————

It's been radio silence for a few hours before the front door opens to the exact alien they're here for. She quickly lets Anakin know.

She watches the alien closely, walking behind him at a distance he wouldn't find strange.

Anakin catches up to her, both the Jedis watch the supposed assassinator from afar enter a bar. "I hate bars." She groans as he drags the Padawan inside the building.

"Uh, Master. Won't our hoods be kind of out of place in here?" Y/n points out, noticing the lack of clothes everyone is wearing.

"Oh, yes. Clever thinking, Y/n." He says, narrowing his eyes in search for the alien.

They both take a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the place until Anakin spots the alien, he's at the bar, downing what seems to be his 3rd shot. He stumbles a bit trying to get off of his chair. Both Jedi watch him go down the hallway that has the bathrooms, but also the back door. So, Anakin flags you over as he gets up. "Uh, Master. Isn't he just going to the bathroom?" She questions getting close enough to the hallway to peer down it. It's empty, aside from the usual couple making out on the walls. It brings a blush to her cheeks. No sign of the alien though.

They both walk further down the hallway until they both feel the door about to be opened, so Anakin does the first thing he can think of. He pushes his Padawan against the closest wall and kisses her. Trying his best to shield both of their identities, he pushes himself further against her and puts his hands on her cheeks trying to hide her face. She gasps in his mouth and her hands can't help but grip his robes.

She's never been this close to him, the feel of his skin on hers, his hands on her, feels like a dream. His intoxicating smell already clouds her mind. But the feeling is over before she knows it, the alien has walked back into the main area again. Anakin doesn't waste a second before following him.

Y/n stands at the wall still, hand coming up to touch her lips. That was her first kiss. Her first kiss was with him.

—————

The outcome of the mission was good, they ended up catching him and Obi-wan was happy.

The next day was training again for Anakin and Y/n. This time it felt so intimate, Anakin's touch would linger far longer than needed and he found any reason to touch her. It had her head spinning by the time they were done.

It apparently didn't stop at training either, Anakin would lead her everywhere with a secure hand on her lower back. He didn't comment on it so she decided not to either, in fear of him retracting the hand.

When he wasn't near, her thoughts were even more out of hand. Now, when she met up with him she was shyer than normal. A part of him regretted the kiss, he enjoyed it but he worried it bothered her. That night he made his way to her room, he wanted to talk about it without anything hearing.

And just like last time he heard her thoughts, here he was again. This time it seemed like she was already in the middle of her fantasizing. Before he could understand what she was thinking about, he knocked on the door.

It opened, the first thing he noticed was her big doe eyes staring up at him curiously.

“Master, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” He asked, clearing his throat.

She nodded and he stepped inside.

The second he was all the way in he could feel the waves of want and desire once more, but this time they were all around him and it was hard to speak. Anakin swallowed, looking into her eyes as he began. “I wanted to apologize for what happened during the mission, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head quickly, “No No, it’s not that it made me uncomfortable. It was..” She pauses as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “It was my first kiss.” She flinches, she was always teased for not having kissed anyone while she was there.

He gulps this time, he can’t deny the feeling of pride that grew in him.

He sat beside her, contemplating his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

She turns to look at him, the only light in the room shining from her small lamp on her nightstand brushed against his face, making his features soft.

“Don’t be sorry, I, um.” She stops herself before continuing, fearful of her words.

Her master eyes her, “You what?” He speaks through the force, gaze narrowing at her sputtering.

“I enjoyed it.”

They both stare at each other, his eyebrows furrow as he watches her face. Y/n watches the inner turmoil that’s present on his as a lock of his hair falls in front of his eyes. A hand comes up to her wrist, it glides upward, over her neck, and up to her cheek. It cradles her face as his resolve snaps. This kiss has purpose, he hopes she can feel it. The way their lips brush against each other is erotic and she can’t possibly hold in the small moan that’s threatening to spill.

The jedi pulls away slightly to eye her, his mouth is parted as he takes in everything she’s silently offering. His breaths fans over her face and it sets her nerves on fire.

The second kiss is full of lust and want, his gloved hand finds her hip before he decides they’re not nearly as close as he would like. The hand on her cheek slides down to her chest and gently pushes her to lay on her back, though, his lips never leave hers. He situates himself on top of her and pulls away farther than before. Gazing at her lidded eyes and soon the pout settling over her lips.

“My prettiest girl.” He sighs out, reaching up to run a nail up and down her neck.

“Master.” She begins.

“Anakin.” He corrects as the nail on her neck drifts down enough to pull her shirt away from her collarbones.

“Anakin..” She obeys, even if it feels foreign on her tongue. “I need you.”

“I know…you should really keep your thoughts to yourself yknow that, Angel?” The name has her eyes widening and a smirk gracing his face.

“How could you think I wouldn’t find out about all the dirty little fantasies you have about me?” He switches hands so his gloved one is pressed next to her shoulder on the bed keeping him upright, while the other one meets her hip again to push the fabric of her shirt upward, Anakin eyes the newly exposed skin and tugs at his lip.

“M’sorry.” She breathes as a fierce blush settles over her face.

“No need to be sorry…” He drags his blunt nails up her torso as he drags her shirt up, goosebumps tickle her flesh as a result. Even more so when he leans down to hover over her, now, exposed breasts. It doesn’t take long for her nipples to harden partly from being out in the open air, but mostly because of him.

The Padawan holds her breath as he nears the mounds of skin, it starts with dizzying kisses up the valley between them and then continues with him teasingly licking around one of her nipples. She gasps, her bottom lip caught under her front teeth harshly.

Anakin takes a full nipple into his mouth and sighs as the sounds he knew would sound so pretty, leave her. Especially the ones where she moans his name in that breathy voice of hers. Her back arches and it sends her breasts even further into his face. He removes his mouth for a moment, only to envelope the other nipple and graze his teeth ever so slightly against it, he takes in her gasps and whines and they all go straight to his ever tightening pants.

He pulls away again, this time to lean up and kiss her. Messily their lips slide together, he even experimentally brushes her lips with his tongue. But she pulls away, “What are you doing?” She asks curiously out of breath.

“Open your mouth for me, kay?” His gaze goes back and forth between her eyes to her lips as he talks.

They kiss again and he does the same thing, so, she opens her mouth. His skilled tongue licks into her unexpectedly and Y/n moves her hands to his clothed chest for stability, well, mental stability at least. Anakin then sucks her tongue rather harshly and it sends moan after moan into his mouth. He swallows all of them gladly as he feels himself become even more worked up.

He would love to keep kissing her, he honestly thinks he could do it forever, but they must keep going. She whines and chases his lips when he pulls away this time and it has his eyes darkening. The shirt she’s half wearing is thrown somewhere on the floor as he dips down to kiss her stomach, down her belly button and along the waistline of her pajama pants as he hooks his fingers along them, dragging them down slowly.

The pink underwear she’s wearing has a frilly bow on the top and he couldn’t handle it. It was like he was opening up his present on christmas, his little, angelic, present that wants nothing more than to have him degrade her. How could he possibly deny that?

“Such cute panties for someone who’s such a little slut for me. Tell me, Angel, would you let me fuck you anytime I asked? Would you let me fuck you in my speeder? On the holotable in front of everyone?” He skims his lips against the hem of her underwear once more as he eyes her like a predator.

“Yes, yes, would let you touch me wherever you wanted.” She panted out, gripping the sheets beneath her.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He asks, pricking the waistband with his teeth and dragging the offending material down her legs. She couldn’t speak, the sight and the feeling left her speechless and unbelievably wet. As soon as the last of her clothing was gone the smell of her sex was utterly intoxicating, so he did the first thing he thought of. Prying her legs apart and pressing his face against her cunt. Y/n didn’t have time to worry about her being the only naked one, for that she was thankful.

Anakin truly believed he could die happily right now.

“Maker, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better.” He practically moans into her, the vibrations send jolts of electricity up her spine and it causes her legs to almost close. But the iron grip he has on her didn’t allow for that. Even when he licked up the expanse of her heat and suckled on her clit, her thighs were begging to give out by then. The new feeling of his tongue was addicting, the way he licked into her clenching hole had her head spinning and heart pounding.

“You feeling good, Angel?” He pants against her, opening his eyes to gaze at her already fucked out form. A moan leaves her as she nods. His ungloved hand lets go of her thigh in favor of circling her cunt and pressing his fingers against her hole. She chokes out a moan at the action.

His mouth only leaves her clit to speak as he fills her up, one finger at a time.

“So tight.”

It has her clenching and he hopes he’s able to feel that around his cock. The fire consumes her from the inside out and all she can do is take it.

Y/n’s moans become louder and more frequent, that paired with the clenching she’s doing around his fingers, he assumes she’s going to come. So before she can, he sticks in another finger and scissors them inside of her, coaxing out an orgasm the best he can.

“Come for me, Y/n.”

Her limbs tense up as her eyes clamp shut, said fire is spreading through her, every finger, every fiber. The euphoric feeling is prolonged as much as possible because of his fingers and the mouth still sucking her pulsating clit.

When she comes back down he stands up, gripping his shirt and pulling it from his body. In her frazzled state, she eyes his stomach, his abs more specifically. His chest too, the way it heavily falls up and down from his deep breathing is hypnotic. His belt is pulled off, and soon he’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off. She can easily see the outline of him through his briefs and the fire that was just released in her seems to have come back.

Anakin watches her face closely as he slips down his briefs and kicks them off. Her gaze on his cock doesn’t last long he notices, her eyes fall to his hand that’s currently gliding up her calf. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You really like my hands, don’t you? Even the metal one?” He smiles at the end.

She nods shyly.

So he takes a detour, his hand comes up to her face, traces her jaw, then traces her bottom lip with his thumb. Her breathing changed almost immediately at that. He wonders something for a moment, so he trails his hand downward, ghosting over the base of her throat. She bites her lip again as he loosely grips her neck.

“So pretty with my hand around your neck. Are you ready for me, Angel?” He mumbles. She finds it hard to speak, the intense eye contact is quite distracting and intimidating.

But she finally gets out a “Yes, Anakin.” After he swats her thigh with his metal hand.

The hand around her neck doesn’t budge as he settles in between her thighs and wraps a leg around his waist. He watches his tip tap her clit and tease her until she’s whining. He can’t hold up the act for long though, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t push inside of her soon. The initial stretch doesn’t feel good, even if Anakin is pushing in rather slow, it still has her flinching.

“It’ll feel good, Angel, don’t worry. Just wait.” He tells her, concerned. She nods in return, holding onto his waist loosely. He keeps his slow pace until he fully bottoms out, he’s sure he could come right now. Her walls latch onto him like a vice and she’s so, so, wet for him. “Fuck, Angel. So wet and tight for me.” He praises breathily.

She clenches at that and it has his brain short circuit. All he wants to do is move, move until he comes inside her, but he waits until she’s ready.

“You can m-move.”

The first experimental thrust is intoxicating for the both of them. He was right, it does feel good. Just him inside her feels good. Every vein and ridge is felt and she makes note of each and every one of them. Another thing she notes is how deep he is, she swears she can feel him in her stomach at this point.

It doesn’t take him long to set a good starting pace, one that isn’t too rough but still satisfying.

“Anakin, you feel so good.” She moans, hips absentmindedly raising to meet his thrusts. The hand around her throat becomes tighter as he groans out.

“Flip over.” He says all of a sudden, pulling out. Her reaction time isn’t very good right now so she furrows her eyebrows. Far too slow for Anakin, so he takes it upon himself to manhandle her onto her stomach. She lays flat against the bed as he forces open her legs again. This time when he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. It has her pushing her ass against him, “Already such a slut for me.” He mumbles as he hovers over her back.

One particular harsh thrust has a loud, pornographic, moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips. He narrows his eyes as his flesh hand presses into her spine, moving upward until it reaches the back of her neck. It swivels to the front, lingers over her windpipe, and drags up to her mouth, pressing firmly against her lips. So firm that her head is lifted into his shoulder as he begins to jackhammer his hips into her.

Leaning down to her ear, he begins, “Such a perfect cunt for me, Angel. Gonna fuck you any time I get the chance.” He groans, grinding into her before thrusting again. The moans leaving her vibrate his hand and he can’t help but thrust faster.

Her brain feels like goo and she hopes he doesn’t ask her anything right now. But, of course.

“Do you like my cock, Angel?” He asks as he moves his hand for her to answer. She only whines and nods, hoping that’ll suffice. But it doesn’t. He smirks as he leans in again, “Use you words.” His tone has goosebumps prickling her neck as she tries to muster up something to say.

“Mm, I- I love it, mm, Ani.” The nickname gets him where it hurts, he can feel how close he is. So, he abandons her mouth and moves his hand in between her body and the bed, circling her throbbing clit.

His metal hand grips the back of her head and pushes it into her sheets, keeping her quiet as he continues abusing her leaking cunt with his cock and fingers. Just as he begins to feel his orgasm coming even closer she babbles and moans, “Ani, I’m, oh my god.” As she clenches around him sporadically. “Good girl, come around me.” She does just that and it pushes him to the edge immediately, his hips stutter and his groans fill the room, he pushes to the hilt as he comes inside of her. Filling her up until it’s leaking out.

They both pant as he pulls out and she turns around. Anakin places a kiss on her lips, once, twice, three times before speaking, “You did so good for me, Y/n. So proud of you.”

“Thank you, Master.” She lazily smiles.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars smut #star wars x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x reader

2K notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year ago

Text

So Much To Learn

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot, again; Sub!Spencer and kinda mean dom reader, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is 21), hand job/teasing, honorifics & pet names, marking a lot, p in v sex, they both talking diiiiirty, minor praise, risky sex, multiple orgasms, edging, squirting- I think I got everything??

Genre: Smut kinda fluff and like minor minor angst if you squint

Summary: You don't react well when you realize someone else is giving your professor boyfriend entirely too much of their attention

A/N: technically this is a continuation of So Much To Teach but order is arbitrary lol

Part 1< >Part 3

***

The weeks after Spencer's confession in his office are- fun to say the least. Meeting in secret, teasing him in class, it's all very exciting. With finals just around the corner now though, you're not sure what it means for the two of you. Will he be interested in establishing anything solid with you once you're out of his class? Will things continue as they are? Will he toss you aside only to replace you with another student from another class next semester? The last possibility bothers you more than you'd like to admit. You'll have to find a good time to bring it up to him soon. Between preparing for final exams or papers and Spencer's near insatiable appetite for time with you there's never a moment you want to risk ruining with what will no doubt be an awkward conversation.

There's a slight knock on the door at the back of the classroom that interrupts Spencer's lecture and your wandering mind. Everyone turns to see another professor walk into the room.

"Oh shoot. I'm so sorry Spence I- I thought your class would be over by now." Professor Greene says. She has the decency to look remorseful although you've noticed her sniffing around Spencer for a little while now so you roll your eyes to yourself.

"Oh don't worry about it Professor Greene we're just wrapping up, come on in." Spencer says kindly. "Alright guys reminder, your finals are online and are due at the end of finals week- that's Friday in two weeks' time. We're not meeting on Thursday but next Tuesday for our final meeting time together I'll be having a review session. It's not mandatory but I'll be here during our class time to answer any last minute study questions you may have. I hope to see you next week but if not good luck on all your finals, if you're graduating congratulations, enjoy your holidays, and have a good day!" Spencer dismisses the class. Usually, you'd linger to drop by his office after class but with Professor Greene about to commandeer his attention, you're not sure if you should. Still, you take your time packing up your things while listening in on their conversation.

"I really am so sorry I interrupted your lecture, Spence. I just wanted to ask about the staff meeting I missed the other day." Professor Greene says.

"Oh don't worry about it, Professor Greene but I can email you my notes from the meeting real quick." Spencer says walking over to his computer.

"I've told you a thousand times Spencer call me Ellie." She says patting his shoulder. Spencer mutters something you can barely hear as you exit the classroom. You don't catch the way his eyes trail after you for a moment before he focuses back on sending this email.

"Y/n!" Matt calls pretty much as soon as you make it out of the classroom.

"Oh, hey Lewis. What's up?"

"Was wondering if you were free to meet up sometime to do some studying for the final? Ya know that way we can help each other with things that are confusing and anything we can't figure out together- we can bring up next week during the review session."

"Ya know what that's a great idea Matt. Why don't we do Thursday- since we don't have class we can just hit the library during that time." You suggest.

"Perfect. I'll meet you at the library on Thursday then." Matt smiles, rushing ahead to catch up with some friends. You make your way to Spencer's office like you do after every class although usually you walk together. Today you sit on the bench that's a few feet from his office and wait for him while reading a book.

"Sweetheart. I was wondering where you ran off to." Spencer says when he reaches his office.

"Didn't want to interrupt. She likes you, you know."

"What?" He frowns over his shoulder at you as he unlocks his office door.

"Professor Greene. She was totally flirting with you when she came in during class." You stand up and follow him into his office.

"Was she?" He hums.

"You're telling me you didn't notice?" You scoff.

"Do you want me to notice other women flirting with me?"

"I don't care, Spencer, you're not my boyfriend-"

"Hey, that's not fair." He frowns. You know it's not, Spencer told you early on the only thing stopping him from labeling your relationship was because of how risky it is to date your professor, but you're apparently facing jealousy and it's making you mean.

"I was only saying she's being really obvious. Whether you're interested or not though, is your business. I have some studying to do so I can't stick around today but I didn't want to disappear without letting you know." You say dismissively.

"Y/n," Spencer says softly.

"I'll see you next week." You tell him, turning on your heel. You need to get your feelings under control and quickly.

"I'm not interested in her. You have to know you're the only one on my mind." Spencer says before you make it out the door. You're not even sure what to say back, so you leave without a word.

You've never considered yourself a jealous or insecure person but for some reason, Professor Greene really gets under your skin when it comes to Spencer. Maybe it's because you know it would be easier for him to date her, she's close to his age and there's no taboo surrounding that pairing. That doesn't make feeling this way any less annoying. I mean- you've been ignoring her attempts at making advances at him for the past couple of months but you think the stress of exams and final papers is exacerbating a feeling you normally wouldn't even notice. Honestly, you have entirely too much else going on to be wasting time focused on staking your claim over a man that's only yours in locked offices, empty halls, and dark rooms. You don't fight over men, if Professor Greene can 'take him from you' she can absolutely have him.

By Thursday when you meet up with Matt, you've managed to knock those ugly thoughts of Spencer and Professor Greene to the back of your head, drowning yourself in studying and paper writing. You have no problems in Spencer's class, even before you were fucking him you had an A average so his final is the least of your worries but you know a review can't hurt. You spend way longer than the length of a class studying with Matt, he's a good student which appears to come with great effort on his part. He goes over things in such depth you're actually a little impressed and for a moment there you wonder what it would be like to pick the easy lover. Matt's kind, and attractive, and it would be much less complicated, no sneaking around- well maybe a bit but it would be for fun, not out of necessity. He'd walk you to class holding your hand, and kiss you on the quad, you'd probably adopt his whole friend group, they're athletes whose girlfriends always seem to be adored by all of them. It would be nice, it would be sweet. If things with Spencer do end at the end of the term you'll seriously consider falling for Matt. The version of reality where you end up with him sounds good. If only you'd realized it before Spencer caught your eye so severely. Would things be different? Would you be holding Matt's hand across the table right now? Sitting next to each other in class? Having him over to study late into the night until you'd have him just stay over because you don't want him to leave so late? It seems silly to spend so much time dwelling on a world that you gave up months ago. You blame it on the stress of the end of a semester.

When Tuesday rolls around you go to the review session knowing you don't actually have any questions but maybe someone will ask one you didn't think of that will come in handy. There are not that many people here for the review, some kids from other sections for sure, but still only maybe 20 of you in total. Spencer tries a number of times to catch your attention while he answers questions to gauge how you're feeling but you don't give anything away on your face. That is until Professor Greene walks in about halfway through the review session.

"Hi Spence! Sorry to interrupt, I know you're reviewing for finals and stuff but I ordered a sandwich for lunch and they gave me 2? I just thought I'd offer you one." She smiles as she scurries to the front of the room. Spencer catches the wry smile that just barely cracks your poker face for a moment and he's almost nervous to address Professor Greene.

"Oh- I appreciate it Professor Greene but I brought lunch, I always do. Perhaps Mike would like it if he's on campus? I know he usually buys food at the student center for lunch." He offers. Graceful rejection. Hopefully enough to keep you happy and put off his coworker at the same time. You make a point to not react outwardly but you do notice his choice to call her Professor Greene while calling another professor in the building Mike despite her giggling request last week to call her by her first name.

"Mike?" She blinks at him.

"Yeah he's- probably doing some grading in his office upstairs." Spencer smiles. "Anyone have any other questions for me?" He turns his attention back to the small group of students who mostly seem ready to leave after watching the exchange.

"The exam is a combination of multiple choice and short answer right?" A woman asks.

"Correct, just like your exams in class." He nods. "It- seems like we've covered all your questions guys so, I think it's okay for us to wrap this up a bit early yes?" Spencer asks. Professor Greene is still in the room but Spencer avoids her gaze diligently as the class murmurs affirmatives.

"Spence before you head off can I speak to you for a moment?" Professor Greene asks quietly while the rest of the room is busy packing up their things.

"Of course." He answers reluctantly. "Miss y/n, don't go far I have an assignment of yours I'd like to discuss in my office." Spencer tells you before you can even stand up.

"Sure prof." You drawl resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Look Spencer the sandwich was- a decoy. I mean they did give me an extra that I wanted to offer you but it was really an excuse to ask you something else." Professor Greene's tone is hushed as you and a few others are still milling about the room.

"Oh- well what is it?" Spencer asks though his gaze shifts to you every so often. You who sits so seemingly unbothered waiting for him, chewing gum, tapping away on your phone, not even looking their way although your ears are definitely paying attention.

"I'm having a little faculty get-together and I wanted to invite you personally."

"What, like going out for drinks?"

"Yeah exactly! Will you be there?"

"Uh- email me the details and I'll let you know."

"Awesome! I really hope to see you there Spence." She places her hand on his arm and he quickly walks over to his satchel to escape the touch.

"I'll- see what I can do." He mutters. "Is that all? I don't want to keep y/n waiting all afternoon."

"Y/n?" She frowns.

"My student? The only person in the room. Who I asked to wait up when I dismissed everyone?" Spencer frowns at her.

"Right! I guess I forgot. One track mind sometimes." She waves off with a giggle. How unnecessarily dismissive.

"Y/n. My office. Ready to go?" He turns his attention to you without even addressing her comment.

"Whenever you're done." You shrug.

"That would be now."

"Alright. Let's go." You stand up and exit the class before him.

"I'll see you at the gathering Spencer." Professor Greene says as he follows you out. You don't say anything as you walk down the halls with Spencer trailing behind. He thinks he handled that well but he can't tell. It's like you're being hard to read on purpose. He unlocks his office door and lets you inside before him, shutting it behind him.

"Look I-"

"I think you should go." You tell him first.

"What?"

"To her little get together. I think you should go." You shrug.

"You do?" He frowns which deepens when you nod. "Why?" He asks.

"It's good for you to socialize with your coworkers." You offer noncommittally.

"You're in a better mood about her today than you were last week." He says carefully.

"Is the door locked?" You ask him.

"What?"

"To your office. Did you lock the door?"

"Oh- yes. I always lock-"

"Yes is sufficient." You say sitting in his office chair.

"Sweetheart, talk to me, what's-" He stops when you hold up one of your hands.

"Spencer, drop to your knees." You say.

"What?" He blinks at you.

"It's a very simple instruction, I would expect a man with as many degrees as you hold would be able to understand a 4-word command."

"I understood it fine I just-"

"Then why are you still standing? If you understood it Spencer do it. I want you on your knees. Now." You cross your arms. Spencer slowly, unsurely, lowers himself to his knees, still by the door to his office. "That's better. Come over to me. And just so we're clear you'll have to crawl." Spencer bends and shuffles over to you on his hands and knees, gaze pointed at the carpet in his office. You've discussed the possibility of him giving up control a number of times but this is not how he expected today to go. When he's by your side you lift his chin up to force his eyes to yours. "Finals week starts in two days Spence, I've got three papers and two exams to think about. I don't have time to worry about if you're going to behave or not." You tell him.

"I-"

"Choose your next words very carefully baby they might just ruin your day." You warn him.

"I would never misbehave darling. My loyalties are to you." He says softly.

"Are you willing to prove that?" You ask.

"However you ask me to." He says immediately.

"I like that answer." You hum. You tug your dress over your head and drop it on his desk. "You can start by removing my panties with your teeth." You tell him. "Just your teeth. I want your hands behind your back." You add. Spencer shuffles forward and tugs at your underwear with his teeth. You move only when absolutely necessary to help but he gets them off after a few moments and holds them between his lips, looking at you for further instructions. "Good boy professor." You pull them from his mouth and drop them on the desk beside your dress. "You'll need your mouth free for this next bit." You say threading your fingers into his hair. "Your loyalties are with me you said?"

"Of course princess." Spencer's reply is breathy.

"Hm- no, not princess. Today you can call me mistress or your queen. I'll let you choose but only between those two. Anything else will get you in trouble and- today is not the day to get in trouble."

"O-okay, My Queen."

"Good. And as for proving your loyalties, you can begin with your head between my thighs, let's see how loyal you are." You spread your legs and tug at his hair still in your hand hard enough to shove his face directly into your center. Spencer is quick to react, his tongue laps up your juices as eagerly as you'd expect. He will regularly spend ages between your legs when he can just because he enjoys tasting you so much. Your back arches as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy feverishly. "Yeah, oh fuck, keep going. Show me- show me your devotion." You moan out as you grind against his mouth. Spencer groans into you as you pull at his hair. His tongue curls inside you just barely brushing against that spongy patch and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing when he does. Spencer's nose nudges at your clit as he focuses his tongue on your inner walls until your legs stiffen around his ears. When that happens he drags his tongue up to your clit and focuses his attention there, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking on it while his tongue lashes it with figure 8s. You almost scream when your orgasm crashes into you, fingers tightening in his hair and your back coming off the chair as you ride the waves of your release. "Don't- don't stop Spence. Fuck- keep sucking my clit." You pant out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the almost painful stimulation, but you want a second orgasm from him before you let him up for air and you plan to get it. You swallow your whines from those first few moments of post-orgasmic overstimulation and force Spencer further into your heat, practically smooshing his face against you. Your moan when overstimulation gives way to pure pleasure again is enough to have Spencer clenching his fists as more blood rushes to his already painfully hard dick. It fills him with a new level of determination as he sharpens the movements of his tongue against you. Your second orgasm builds quickly, and within a few minutes, you're shaking again, this orgasm covering Spencer's face and even squirting onto his shirt. You pull his hair harshly enough to move him away from you as you take a few deep breaths. Spencer sits panting, covered in your juices, pupils blown so wide there's no trace of his hazel-colored irises. "Look at what a mess you are." You hum. "You look pretty like this."

"Thank you- mistress." His voice is hoarse.

"Strip and sit on the couch. You can walk this time." You tell him. He stands, though a little unsteadily, and walks over to the loveseat, taking off his shirt and then his pants before sitting down with his gaze trained on you. You take your time standing from his chair and walking over to him, detouring to grab your jacket that you'd tossed over your backpack upon entry. You won't put the dress back on for now, having totally soaked your lover you have no interest in walking out of here in a damp dress, but your leather jacket will be fine. Spencer watches you with rapt attention as you finally approach him, his dick is an angry looking red flopped against his stomach and his whole body is tense. You drag a finger across his thigh and then up the length of his dick, slowly, reveling in the way he jolts at the contact.

"P-please." He gasps out.

"Please what Spencer?" You tilt your head at him.

"I- I need you to do something my queen I can't- it hurts."

"Do something? I'm already touching you. You need more?"

"Yes mistress, please." Spencer's head is tossed back against the couch as you trace the veins along his dick lazily.

"You're a greedy thing." You hum.

"Please mistress- please my queen I need- god please sit on my dick. Need it so bad- need you. I can't- can't help it." Spencer grips the cushions beneath him tightly, desperately trying not to squirm under your touch.

"Only because you beg very cutely." You tell him swinging your leg over to straddle him. You grip the base of his dick in your hand and lower yourself onto him with a satisfied hum while he lets out a guttural sound that makes your walls clench around him.

"Oh god thank you, my queen. thank you, thank you. You feel so good." Spencer pants out. You brace yourself using his shoulders and set your rhythm, bouncing on his dick quickly.

"Spencer, you're not allowed to cum until I say so." You tell him, grabbing his face to make sure he's listening.

"O-okay mistress. Of course mistress." He nods frantically.

"Fuck Spence this is what you're good for, this is where you belong. Filling me with your pretty little cock, covered in my squirt, you're mine aren't you baby?" You huff as you ride him furiously.

"Yes my queen yes. I'm yours. Just yours. Only you get to use me, touch me, take me. Only you make me feel so good." Spencer groans. You feel his body tense up under you and slow your pace almost to a stop.

"Not yet Spence." You mutter sweetly kissing his neck. You stay there for a few moments, grinding against him as you take some time to litter his throat with hickeys of various sizes some of which are quite dark as well. Dark enough that you're sure he'll have them through finals week. When you're satisfied with the marks covering him you pick up your pace again and his small whimpers from your lips against his skin turn to full-blown moans again. "This time Spencer you can cum, but you ask first." You tell him. He nods at your instruction and while you should scold him for not using his words you'll let it slide considering how close you know he is. He barely manages a few minutes before he's stuttering out his request.

"C-can I mistress please can I cum?" He pants out frantically.

"Good boy. Yes you can." You chuckle airily at the relief on his face when you give him permission. You keep pace until heat spills into you at which point your hips slam down harder against him even when he begins hissing from overstimulation.

"M-my queen I- too sensitive w-wait."

"I said you could cum baby but I didn't say I'd be done with you. Today you're my toy and I'll use you as long as I want. So be good and let me play." You say, letting yourself relish in the feeling of filling yourself over and over, even as his release leaks out of you and makes his thighs sticky. You moan in surprise when Spencer's dick hardens again inside you. "Oh- fuck. Well aren't you just the perfect plaything- eager to keep your queen happy."

"I- I- yes mistress." He whines. You ride him for a while longer, taking all he has to give and then some. He fills you two more times before you're satisfied and you make sure you have a couple more releases of your own by the time you're climbing off of his completely spent dick. You walk carefully over to his desk and grab his pack of wet wipes before walking back over to him, cleaning up the utter mess around his thighs. If he didn't look so exhausted you'd have him clean the mess on your thighs with his tongue, but right now you think if you asked Spencer to do anything else he'd simply collapse, so you take a few wipes to clean up yourself once you're done with him.

"You were very good today Spencer. I'd say you more than proved your devotion." You tell him with a gentle kiss.

"You're mean when you're jealous." He chuckles breathlessly.

"So are you professor." You tap his nose and stand to dress yourself. You pick his clothes up from the floor and lay them on the arm of the chair for whenever he gets the energy to stand and dress himself. You find his lunch and set it out for him on the table as well while you're at it.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, barely able to focus.

"Well- I do have some studying to do. Will you be okay? Do you want me to stay?" You ask. You won't leave him if he's going to drop but you've set up food, cleaned him up, and made sure he knows he did well.

"I- I don't want Professor Greene you know." He mumbles.

"I know, that's why I think you should go to her gathering. With all those pretty marks on your neck, she'll surely get the hint." You say. You bend over and gently brush some hair from his eyes. "You make me feel so territorial." You mutter.

"I'm sorry." He pouts.

"It's not your fault, it's unavoidable but- I don't like hiding you." You say.

"I don't like hiding you either." Spencer takes your hand in his. You pause for a moment and sigh.

"Do you want me to stay with you, Spence?" You ask brushing your thumb against the back of his hand.

"Can you spare the time?" He asks.

"Sure. But at some point, we should talk about what the end of the semester means for us." You say. Spencer sits up and you sit on the couch letting him rest his head in your lap.

"When you finish all your finals I have a question for you." He slurs a bit through his declaration.

"Why not just ask me now?"

"I want your head clear." You can barely make it out, he's obviously falling asleep, your fingers against his scalp lulling him too quickly. You're still high off adrenaline now, not quite ready to sleep but you know you'll feel the effects of this later. Good thing tomorrow is study day and you can get away with not leaving your apartment.

***

A/N: I was gonna post this on Friday but I’m posting it early as a thank you for all the love on part 1 already 🖤

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

1K notes · View notes

silhouetteonpaper · 3 months ago

Text

Public Figure

Summary: The world wants to know all about you as the newest addition to the Avengers. But what happens when a normal interview session digs up something you’ve never told a soul… not even Natasha? Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,616 Warnings: Mentions of killing

“A new addition to the Avengers leaves the city on the edge of their seats as we all wait to hear more about this young recruit. A public Q&A with the new Avenger in question is set to take place this week. Stay tuned for more coverage on all things current…”

You turn the volume of the TV down, your commitment to attending this public event starting to fill you with regret. It’s been a week of officially being a part of the team, and to say the city is going crazy would be an understatement.

“How’re you feeling?” Natasha sits down beside you on the couch, eyeing the TV as the newscaster spews more words about you and the rest of the team.

You shrug, rubbing your forehead to try and push away the increasing stress. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.”

“It’s okay to be nervous.” She consoles you, but you’re aware she doesn’t know the real reason why you’re so anxious about the whole ordeal.

“What if the world isn’t ready for… someone like me?” You ask, partially rhetorically—but something in you hopes Nat has a real answer. The city has created turmoil over certain Avengers in the past, and the last thing you want is to cause commotion. All you’re trying to do is save the world, which you’d think would make everyone like you. Unfortunately, it’s never that simple.

Natasha takes a deep breath, seeming to search her brain for the right words. “Look, it’s up to you how you present yourself, but you can’t control how everyone else sees you. I know for a fact you’ve done so much good here, and that’s all I care about.” Nat offers you a smile.

You wish you could return it, but something inside you churns with guilt. “What about my past? All those records… someone’s likely to dig them up. It’ll make me look like the monster I used to be—or maybe still am…” You become lost in your own thoughts, the idea of someone digging up your past haunting your present.

A part of you has never let go of the person you used to be, in the off chance someone betrays your trust or sets you up for failure. You’re physically a different person now, making great waves with the Avengers, doing good all around the world—but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about the person you left behind before moving into the compound.

“If they go low enough to do that to you, we can deal with it,” Natasha’s continued support pulls you out of your thoughts. “You know I understand that better than anyone. Do I look worried?” She raises her eyebrows.

You finally smile, shaking your head. “No, but that’s not fair because you never look worried.”

“Because there’s nothing to be worried about.”

The day of the event finally arrives, and you’re already on the verge of a breakdown. Natasha has prepped everything ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to use extra energy, starting with the freshly ironed outfit hanging in your closet.

You feel mostly prepared when it’s time to drive over to the venue, two of your biggest supporters right at your side. Tony and Natasha are even more ready than you are, the pair ready to defend any harmful questions and comments.

As great as it is to have such powerful people at your side, it only does so much to aid the growing nerves inside you. “Breathe. This’ll be over before you know it. We just need to answer some questions, let them get to know you, and then we’ll go celebrate.” Natasha explains with a calm voice.

You only manage to nod as you worry talking will expel all the air in your lungs. As soon as the sleek van arrives outside the tall pillared building, you’re greeted by a storm of paparazzi camera flashes. Nat warned you about this, but nothing could have prepared you for the intense crowd shoving cameras and microphones your way.

Tony attempts to hold off the extra pushy photographers, but he can only do so much swimming upstream. As soon as you make it into the building, there’s no time to take a breath as a crowd of important looking people sit staring directly at you.

Breath. Natasha mouths, offering yet another warm smile. You take a deep breath, heading forward with one foot in front of the other.

A facilitator guides the three of you to a table on a raised stage, the perfect amount of room for three to sit at the microphone-filled surface. You find a spot right in the middle, knowing exactly what’s coming the second you sit down.

“Question!”

“Over here!

“Miss, question!”

A caucus of voices fills the room, soon being silenced as the facilitator calls on one. “Ma’am, please describe to us the superhuman capabilities you bring to the team.”

You swallow thickly while leaning into the bouquet of microphones. “Well, uhm… I can manipulate energy. Turning off lights, powering machines, emitting beams of light… uh, yeah.” You lean back, taking another deep breath.

The sudden eruption of voices makes you jump, the facilitator following the same routine and calling on another person. “Does the team feel that these abilities have the possibility to be dangerous?”

You knew it was coming, a question like this. Natasha sees your frozen state and is quick to comment before you have the chance. “Anyone can be dangerous with the wrong intentions. We wouldn’t have recruited her if we didn’t feel she was a great asset. Not only is she doing well in training, she’s exceeding our original expectations.” You nod at her in thanks, getting one in return.

“What do you have to say about the murder of Jean Ridley?” An interviewer juts in. Your mouth goes dry, any response unable to form. The cacophony of voices fills the room as you go completely quiet. Jean Ridley, the young girl who was just trying to live her life, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Back when you were on your streak of crime—before the Avengers took you in—you wouldn’t hesitate to demolish anything in your path to succeed. Including the little girl who didn’t even know what she was a part of. In an attempt to terminate a larger target, Jean just happened to be a casualty. An even larger casualty than you realized at the time.

“I implore you to ask our newest recruit questions about her current position, otherwise we’re done here.” Natasha’s voice brings you back from the overflowing guilt spreading across your mind like wildfire. You slide your hands under the table as they begin to shake, attempting to press them against your thighs before anyone has a chance to see the weak criminal that somehow made it onto the team.

Natasha looks at you and nods, her gaze quickly darting to your hands before she places her own on top. The shaking is soothed, but your nerves aren’t. The crowd of voices continues as the flood of worry destroys your mind. Everyone knows your past now, and there’s nothing you can do to hide it.

The rest of the interview session goes as smooth as it could have, the last of the inappropriate questions ending when Tony finally threatened to expose every document the council is holding, his defense being ‘if I can find it, it’s public information.’

The drive home is silent, but that’s not to say you don’t feel the pressure of Natasha’s eyes on you the whole way back. As soon as you arrive at the compound, you make a swift escape to your room. The only thing you want is to hide yourself from the rest of the world, your entire past seeming to chase you back into the dark abyss you came from.

The second your door slams shut, the noise stops. All the voices in your head screaming you’re a monster, you’ll never be a hero, get trapped in the hallway. The silence is peaceful, no shouting interviewers or civilians with snide questions. Just you and the cold surface of the door on your back.

But it’s unfortunately short lived as a soft knock sounds. You move away from the door, already guessing the person standing on the other side. The overwhelming tornado of insecurities topples into your room as the Widow walks in, a concerned expression painted on her face.

You already know what’s coming, a long winded pep-talk about how you’re more than your past. You don’t even bother lifting your head when Natasha bends down beside you.

“Look,” Her sudden firmness takes you by surprise. “What they said was wrong, but you can’t control what others say or do. You can either sit here and weep, or get out there and prove to them they’re wrong.”

Natasha’s words leave you speechless as your gaze slowly finds her. She’s looking directly at you, her green eyes warm yet expression stern. That’s when you realize you don’t have a choice.

Again and again, Natasha has directed you onto the best path. From recruiting you for the Avengers, to training you, to avoiding utter chaos in the face of the public eye—Nat’s proved she knows what she’s talking about.

“I know it’s hard to keep moving forward when the entire world is trying to paint you as something you’re not, but the only thing you can do is show them who you really are.” She affirms, her eyes still stuck on you.

And in this moment, you know she’s right. There’s no reason to sit here in self pity, rehashing the past that won’t ever just disappear no matter how hard you shove it down. The only thing you can do—the only thing left to do—is prove them all wrong. To show them the hero you can truly be.

#marvel #mcu #the avengers #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

160 notes · View notes

yawujin · 7 months ago

Note

Hi there you're really cool (shuichi is great). If you wouldn't mind writing v3 boys x reader that dyes their hair a lot (wild colors each time)

Example: one week the reader has one hair color than a couple weeks later oop a different color.

Little bonus: the reader forgets to dye their hair and their roots grow back their natural hair color

I hope this made sense it's really late

Thank you

okay ramona flowers i see you lmao

request | how the v3 boys would react to reader that dyes their hair often

type | react , light hearted , non killing game , gender neutral reader

shuichi saihara ♡

instantly but silently notices each time you do so

doesn't comment on it until you ask him if he likes the color of the week

ofc he does

"any reason in particular why you dye it so often?" he asks one day

you explain to him that you just enjoy it and that it's for fun

hmm would you want to dye your hair shuichi?

he raises his brows, surprised you'd ask him

"i'd try anything once so, i suppose!"

you two agree that he'll try it if you're the one dyeing his hair

rantaro amami ♡

unlike shuichi, he comments on it right away, sounding rather impressed

"well now, if it isn't the ultimate hairdresser~" he jokes

no seriously, where on earth do you find the time to dye your hair

he has certain colors he favors over others

especially on you

offers to paint your nails to match whatever color you have on your hair at that time

K1B0/kiibo ♡

omfg he's kinda jealous

he wishes he could also dye his hair but the chemicals in the dye would surely mess with the metal

you offer to get him wigs with different colors (and you know exactly where to get them from cough *tsumugi* cough)

he just laughs and says it's fine

adores each and every color on you

he's your go-to if you want to search for products that prevent damage from a lot of dyeing!

korekiyo shinguji ♡

would definitely bring up his research about how ancient peoples used to dye their hair using various things

like how vikings used to dye their hair blond using wood ash soap

hehe

anyway

he would also help you maintain it by offering to assist you in getting the dye in harder to reach places

like the very back of your head lol

offers to brush your hair after

"no matter what color you choose...you always look perfect."

kaito momota ♡

he never gets used to seeing you with a new hair color so often

everytime you greet him he's like

"again!?" and another two weeks go by

you have a brand new color

"AGAIN!?"

he doesn't hate it though, he finds it interesting

he really likes pastel blue on you

reminds him of neptune :)

gonta gokuhara ♡

he asks you about it

"why (Y/N) hair change so much?"

so you explain

you can practically see a lightbulb flash bright over gonta's head

"ah! gonta see..."

he really likes it

always asks ahead of time which color you are planning to dye your hair next

"gonta want to see if he can find bug to match (Y/N)'s hair!"

he'd then show you a beautiful orchid mantis which matched your baby pink hair

ryoma hoshi ♡

makes it a point to compliment you if you dyed your hair multi-colored

lowkey wants to you see you do the calico cat hair trend

offers one of his beanies to you if you feel embarrassed that you forgot to dye your hair and your roots begin to show

he thinks your natural hair color is cute though

maybe one day he'll get to see you with no hair dye at all (?)

kokichi ouma ♡

the first to notice that your roots are showing

he announces it aloud for all to hear

SHHHHH

he's just messing with you ofc

insists to everyone that you are a copycat when you decide to dye it purple

he really likes it when you dye it red

it just does it for him

winkk

216 notes · View notes

lovableapocalypse · 2 years ago

Text

feels like

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader

wc- 2k

warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else

a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!

You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom.

Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.

Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test.

As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone.

Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found.

You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut.

Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley.

He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary.

“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched.

You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin.

Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight.

This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop.

Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back.

Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day.

Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”

You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.

Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room.

Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals.

“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.”

You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area.

Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”

You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”

You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you.

He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes.

“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional.

You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.

You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling.

“You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh.

His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks.

You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.

On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”

You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.

“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.

He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again.

He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it.

You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”

“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently.

You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you.

You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone.

You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results.

You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin.

He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his.

“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt.

The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names.

The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open.

“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both.

You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”

Pete remains silent, questioning you both.

“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”

His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression.

“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic.

“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.

Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun #tgm fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x reader

1K notes · View notes

sebscore · 2 years ago

Text

PRIZE OUT

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: rbr. mention of horner and marko. this doesn't really have a plot, tbh- just felt like writing it.

author's note: idk how this came to me, but it did in the middle of the night and i hope you enjoy it as well. also, the way i keep writing things that no one requested- i know yall hate me.

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Yeah, I'll let you know. Goodbye, bye.'' Charles hung up the phone, sighing loudly as he put it back in his pocket. His mother watched him, frowning at her son's obvious frustration. ''What is it, Charles?'' She asked him, slight concern in her voice.

''I have to let them know who my plus-one is for the FIA Prize Giving this week, but I have no date.'' He explained, his hand going through his hair.

Pascale chuckled, relieved it wasn't some bigger issue her son was dealing with. ''I thought you were about to reveal a big crisis to me, but it's just about finding you a date.'' She laughed, much to Charles' dismay.

''It's serious, Maman!'' He exclaimed. ''Normally I would take Charlotte, but you know…'' the couple hadn't split for too long, the topic still a bit sensitive for him, ''maybe you can go with me? You love Italy!''

The offer was tempting, but Pascale had a better idea. ''How about you take your sister with you? She likes dressing up and the two of you will get to spent some time together.'' She suggested.

Charles thought for a moment, thinking about the idea. His little sister would indeed enjoy going to a formal event like this and with her by his side, it would be way less boring than usual.

''Yeah, I'll ask her.'' He smiled.

His mother walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, putting her arms around him. ''Oh, that's so great! My two babies!'' Pascale beamed. ''And she's been so stressed with her exams coming up, it will take her mind off of that.''

''I'll go ask her then.'' Charles got up from his seat, wanting to move to his sister's room. However, his mother's voice stopped him in his tracks. ''Oh, don't forget that we have dinner with Ollie's parents Monday night.'' She told him.

''I didn't know about that.'' He furrowed his eyebrows, confused on why this is the first he has heard of it.

''That's why I'm telling you about it now.'' Pascale retorted, matter-of-factly.

Charles had the urge to roll his eyes, but managed to hold himself in. ''So who's coming? The five of us, and then him and his family?''

''Y/N, me, you, Lorenzo and Arthur is also bringing Carla, and then Ollie is coming with his parents.'' She replied, getting up from the couch.

''Aren't they from England?''

''Yeah, but they're in Monaco for the Formula 3 Prize Ceremony on Sunday.'' Pascale clarified for him, amused by his attempt to appear uninterested. ''Charles, I know you're not too happy about your sister dating, but he's a good kid and I want you on your best behaviour Monday.''

''I just don't want her to get hurt. This is her first relationship and it's long distance so I'm just looking out for her.'' Charles didn't have anything against the young Brit, he really didn't. Ollie is a polite guy and from what he has seen, he has a bright future ahead of him as a driver.

But he's her big brother and even the mere thought of his baby sister getting hurt by anyone breaks his heart. Charles knows she'll have a hard time with Ollie being away so much, because he knows the experience himself. Yes, there are many drivers who are able to make long distance relationships work, but most of them are adults. She's 17 years-old and still in school, she shouldn't be stressing about what her boyfriend is up to on the other side of the world.

''Trust me, Chérie- I don't want her to get hurt either, but we can't stop her from experiencing life. Whatever is meant to be will happen, whether it works out with the kid or not. Until then, I want everyone to be as supportive as they can be.'' Pascale understood his worries, she shared them with him. Y/N is her youngest and only daughter, she wants to protect her girl from all the evil in the world. However, shielding her away from everything will do more bad than good.

Charles nodded at her words, knowing she's right. ''I know, I am supportive of them, but if that little guy makes her cry, I'll give him something to cry about.'' He tried sounding scary, clenching his jaw.

His mother simply laughed. ''I think that 'little guy' is a bit taller than you, Charlie.''

''Oh, whatever.''

''That's the Red Bull car?'' Y/N observed the winning machinery that was displayed for everyone to see at the FIA event.

Charles looked from his sister, to his rivals' car, to her again. ''Yup, that's the one.''

''It's kinda ugly.'' The blunt comment made the Ferrari driver snort, garnering some weird looks from bypassers and other drivers.

''Be careful, Y/N!'' He hushed her, putting his hand over her mouth. ''Don't get us in trouble.''

''It's the truth, though.''

''I know, but just keep it in your head.''

The siblings walked further into the building, Charles greeting some people he recognised here and there. Y/N held onto her brother's hand for dear life, her anxiety going through the roof. It wasn't just the large space with all the strangers that was freaking her out, it was also the new pair of heels she was rocking.

Charles glanced at the shoes. ''Why didn't you wear flats? I don't want you to break your ankles.''

''I wanted to look a little taller next to you and they go well with my dress.'' She answered him, a bit agitated by his questioning. ''Let's link our arms, if I fall- you fall.'' Y/N did as she said and put her arm around Charles'.

Her brother laughed, momentarily patting her hand. ''How about no falling at all?''

They arrived at the big hall where someone led them to their seats at one of the many tables present in the room. Seated on the table next to them was the RBR family: Max, Checo, Christian Horner, Helmet Marko and their significant others who subtly greeted the Leclercs upon seeing them.

''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' Kelly complimented the young girl as they walked past them.

Y/N shyly smiled at the older woman, surprised at the sudden praise since the two of them haven't had many interactions throughout the years. ''Thank you, you too.'' She politely replied.

''Hey, how are you?'' Max focused on her when his small talk with Charles was done, sticking out his fist for a bump.

Both Leclerc siblings chuckled at the greeting. ''I'm good and you?'' She didn't leave him hanging and gently bumped her fist with his.

''I'm great.'' The dutchman smiled.

The youngest Leclerc remembered how she would taunt Charles by running after him while shouting Max's name, knowing it would annoy her older brother- especially if he had just lost to him in karting. She found it funny how they're still rivals after all these years.

''Congratulations on your championship.'' Y/N quickly told him before following Charles to their seats, not wanting to lose her brother in the crowd.

Max thanked her, but she was already gone and didn't hear it. The Red Bull driver was very fond of the young girl, because he had known her since she was a toddler. He would always remember how Charles would take her on the podium with him if the Monégasque had won, and that one time a 7 year-old Y/N gave him a high-five despite having won against her brother.

''This shit is really boring.'' Y/N whispered as the two hosts started announcing a new category, a yawn almost escaping her mouth.

Charles chuckled, feeling the exact same way about the event. ''I have to get up to give the 'Rookie of the Year' award in a few minutes so I'm just trying to look alive.''

''Who won it this year?'' She asked him, not aware of the winner.

''Zane Maloney, he was second in the F3 championship,'' he answered before smirking, ''oh, he finished in front of Ollie.''

Y/N gave him a side-eye, unimpressed by her brother's teasing. ''Yeah, by like 2 points.''

''Maybe you should have dated Zane instead.'' Charles continued, still grinning like an idiot and raising his eyebrow.

''How many points were there between you and Max again?''

''I gotta go now, I think.'' Charles got up from his seat, looking mildly annoyed by his sister's comeback. Meanwhile, Y/N had a satisfied expression on her face knowing she pissed her brother off. ''He's so stupid.''

''You had fun tonight?'' Charles asked her on their drive back to his home in Maranello, his tailored Ferrari jacket draped over her as the coldness of the night settled in.

Y/N nodded her head, a tired smile on her face. ''Yeah, it was funny seeing you on the stage.''

''You kept laughing at me! You know how hard I was trying to keep my laughter in?'' He exclaimed, recalling his sister distracting him while he accepted his award. ''And you were filming it as well!''

''Of course I was,'' Y/N cackled, ''it's for mum.''

''Well, I'm happy you had a good time at least.'' Charles grinned, his tone changing from offended to loving.

The youngest hummed, a comfortable silence falling upon them.

''Are you, uh, gonna be home Monday?'' Y/N interrupted the quietness, a hint of nerves in her voice.

Charles confusingly glanced at his sister. ''Yeah, we're having dinner, haven't we?''

The unexcited sound of his voice made her roll her eyes. ''You sound very excited about, thank you so much, Charles.'' Y/N told him, sarcastically.

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that- I am looking forward to it, it's gonna be great.'' He apologised, his arm going over her shoulder.

Y/N nodded to his words. ''I hope so, Ollie's very nervous about it.''

''Why?''

''Cause he says Arthur has been acting weird with him, and he thinks you and Lorenzo absolutely despise him.'' Ollie's concerns over her brothers had greatly upset her, the sad look on his face when he told her breaking her heart.

Charles felt guilty upon hearing his sister's answer. ''I don't despise him and neither does Enzo, and Arthur is always weird,'' he denied her words, ''I'm sorry that we made him worry about that, that's not our intention- he's a good guy.''

''I don't need everyone to be like best friends, but he shouldn't be shitting his pants any time you guys come near him.'' Y/N joked, although there was a truth to her words.

Her brother squeezed her hand. ''We like him, alright?

''That makes me happy.'' She said, a genuine smile on her face.

''But if he makes you cry-''

''Yeah, you're gonna give him something to cry about- mum already told me.''

taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel @rowansshit @mbappebby @maemaesthoughts

if you want to be added to the taglist, fill in this form !

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagines #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

2K notes · View notes

jmdbjk · 3 days ago

Text

Hello, everyone.

I came by to say something important: I got sidetracked by nekkid Jimin searching for a specific cranberry sauce recipe on Pinterest. You're welcome.

Why is nekkid Jimin on my Pinterest you say? Welllll.... maybe you need to ask Pinterest that question.

Needless to say, I was thrilled to see Jimin's words on Weverse. And then even more thrilled to see Jungkook being typically adorable. It's really hard to put into words the beauty of it all that I see in my mind. It is reassuring to see evidence that where ever they are, whatever they are doing every day, has not changed them at all. And Jin and Hobi jumping in trying to keep up with those two.

Speaking of Jin and Hobi, so it appears they will bring back a little taste of Bangtan Chaos™️ in the next episode of Run Jin. The kidnapping episode of Run Jin looks like it will be about getting Hobi to do the Running Wild dance challenge. Perhaps Hobi will launch his Tiktok after that, by now surely he's found a handle that hasn't already been taken by Armys (heh heh)

Namjoon... oh, Namjoon... I never thought he'd so openly pine for BTS. He can't wait and neither can we.

It snowed a lot in Seoul today, setting records not seen in over 100 years. Those memories from Japan they could recall during their enlistment... and also JK posted snowy pics of Bam that his caretakers sent to him.

Anyway. I didn't mean to stay away from here for so long but after Hobi came back, it seemed difficult to put thoughts into words. There was a lot going on in the world and in my personal life... still is... but during these last six weeks, a lot of stuff also rearranged itself in my mind. A lot of things became more clear. Maybe I can get some of it down in coherent paragraphs at some point soon but trying not to think too hard about it all because that takes the fun out of everything. Know what I mean?

As we wait for the Bing X V White Christmas song and literally in a few hours, Tae's little cinematic MV for Winter Ahead, I want to wish those celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S. a Happy Thanksgiving! And everyone else, I hope you all have a great rest of the week and weekend.

#jimin #jungkook #jin #hobi #namjoon #taehyung #yoongi #fyi yoongi's friends see him regularly #everything's gonna be ok #jikook #kookmin #sorry i was away #life is hectic

76 notes · View notes

unparalleledtomes · 1 month ago

Text

Not With the Eyes, But With the Mind (18+)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Gale x OC Female Character

Summary: Against his better judgement, Gale's hopeless pining gets the better of him and he finally caves, treating himself to images of Noa and nearly nuking himself in the process.

Warnings: masturbation, smut, nudity, minors dni.

Word Count: 1900

A/N: did it take me over three months to write 1900 words? you betcha. will it take even longer for the next one? you betcha.

Gale lay in his tent next to a toppled stack of books. If he unfocused his eyes, allowed his mind to carry him home, he could almost picture the view from his tower through the canvas. It was the moonlight, the way it barely poked through the blue-green skin of his tent—it reminded him of evenings alone on his balcony just before a storm rolled in, and how the moonlight barely poked through then.

He tried to hold onto that image and the tranquillity it often brought him, but tonight the colour only reminded him of Noa.

How she poured wine from a bottle that glinted teal in the fire, a glass each for her and Karlach. Astarion nursed his own. But Gale didn’t indulge, too afraid of what might tumble from his mouth in the presence of his new friends, or those he hoped to call friends. The orb, too, clenched inside of him and there was a slight shake in his hands, a heaviness in his chest that felt like a threat.

“Come on, soldier. You’ve asked everyone for their life stories and haven’t said one thing about yourself.”

“That’s not true. Astarion hasn’t said anything.”

“I beg your pardon. I’ve said plenty. What more do you want?”

“Well, for starters, I’ve never known a magistrate so interested in bloodshed.”

“What’s life without a little danger, darling? Besides, you’ve rather impressed me these last weeks. Goblins and bugbears, those poor dwellers in the crypt. There’s plenty of blood on your hands.” He lowered his voice as he spoke, like the very idea of violence excited him.

Noa scoffed into the fire. “Not a thought that comforts me. Mark my words on this, night-walker. I’ve been around a long time—life’s easier with a sheathed sword.”

Gale smiled but Astarion flicked his wrist. “Spoken like a true, boring adventurer. I, for one, can’t wait to see what other massacres lie ahead of us. Gods know there’ll be plenty before our next sunset.”

Noa rolled her eyes. “Gale, how about you? How’re you faring under all these…oh, let’s call them adventures?”

“Well, it’s certainly a leap from the comfort of my tower. I’m far more used to a crackling hearth, a good book, and an equally soothing glass of Blackstaff wine.” The thought needed only to be spoken and he was back at home, all but felt the veins of mature pages in his hands before he let the moment pass. He raised a finger. “But, adventure never strays far from a talented wizard, as I’m sure someone of your demonstrable capabilities can attest.”

He wasn’t sure why but Noa laughed then, and the sound lifted some pressure from his heart.

Gale blinked at the tent. He breathed slowly and with some difficulty, torn between chasing away what he’d rather remember. But her image haunted him like a childhood mistake and it wasn’t long before the faintest thrum of lilac tangled in the moonlight, the orb stirred to life.

“Coming from the great Gale of Waterdeep, I appreciate that. It’s not every day a golden boy finds you impressive.”

“Ha, oh well, hardly a ‘golden boy,’ though my natural abilities did catch unequivocal attention from the most spectacular beings. That said, it does put a bit of pep in one’s step to know their name travelled across Faerûn, eh?”

Astarion audibly scoffed but Gale relished in the idea. He ignored the ignorance, forgave it even. It was the very same he’d dealt with all his life from those who could only watch as he mastered the Weave, destined for greatness—that of which he had in Mystra’s reverent embrace. His eyes fell to the snapping firewood. As quickly as it’d come, the thought soured.

“It has,” Noa said plainly.

“All good things, I hope.”

She brought the goblet to her mouth and held it there without drinking. “I’ve heard your story.” Her eyes flicked to his and they watched each other for an eternal second. A queer look accompanied her words, silent recognition piercing as a blade. “I’m really glad we ran into you, Gale of Waterdeep.”

Nothing existed but her face across the flames. He could only stare; he didn’t know what to say.

The need was in his hands before it was in his cock. He folded them behind his head and tried to focus on the dull ache of his knotted fingers. He blinked, inhaled through his mouth, but there she stood above the flames in a long stretch before bed. She reached to the stars and it was all he could do to avoid her silhouette as she bid him goodnight.

But alone now he snuck a boyish glance at the memory of her breasts. The orb burned through his tunic and onto the canvas above him, an aurora borealis in that Waterdeep sky, and he watched the colours billow until an intrusive thought of her naked made his ears simmer.

Energy crackled around his briefs, warmth pulsing between his legs with every unstoppable thought of her face, her eyes—one rich and dark as earth and the other obsidian as a mountainside. He thought of the freckles that spilled across her nose and wondered how many adorned places he couldn’t see.

Stop it, he thought. By the gods, stop it. But she didn’t leave and he wouldn’t let her.

When Astarion and Karlach eventually retired, he was alone. Flames lapped at the darkness and he curled his hands into fists to stop the shaking. Through the spots in his vision, a lantern burned from Noa’s tent and he watched her gently unwind her braid in the sliver of gold that shone through. When she lifted her shirt he looked away so quickly the whole world spun.

The orb radiated from chest to cheek with pain, a hellish prick of needles coursing through his hands. He breathed deeply, pleaded with his mind to free itself from these calamitous desires, but everything was black against the light of her face.

He didn’t want to will her away any longer—he wanted to touch gold.

His face burned, and with great shame he unlaced his trousers. The simple caress of fingertips made him shiver, his shaft already hard and leaking by the time he freed himself. He pinched his eyes shut and reconsidered the whole sordid indulgence but she immediately stood before him, smiled at him, and with the first timid stroke he nearly whispered her name.

Together they soared past the skies above him, their naked bodies entwined within the Weave. She outshone the stars, overthrew those swirling constellations he often dreamed of, and he could only float in awe of her. She bit her lip the longer he stared, a simple gesture that made him grin as he imagined a dahlia flush in her cheeks. It was enough to coax a faster rhythm.

Back in his tent the orb singed his chest but he ignored the fire to press his tongue into her mouth. It shamed him and even in his mind he hesitated, but she moaned and wound her arms around his neck until he relaxed. He tentatively twisted up and down and she inched closer to bite his lip. He trembled at the brazenness of it, but envisioned her leg around his hip, her fingers in his hair, and when she moaned again he started to pump faster.

With that same shy look in her eyes she squeezed the length of his cock. His head tipped back and she pressed a kiss to his neck so warm he swore he felt it. He stroked faster, grabbing her breast with one hand, cradling her head with the other, but it wasn’t enough. With a moan he multiplied, arms born from arms to have enough hands for every inch of her. Countless fingers caressed her back and gripped her thighs, touched her tongue and brushed the hair from her face, and in that paradise of starved simulacra all her moans rang out like music. Whether his hands throbbed from the orb or his grip on the bedroll, he didn’t know—all he knew was somewhere in those stars Noa belonged to him.

Wildflowers billowed in the camp’s lazy breeze and he felt it through the canvas, the way it quickly became her breath against his shoulder. His eyes watered from the choking pain in his chest but he’d let nothing take her, each stroke a blacksmith’s bellow that kept her image alive.

She rocked into him, slow and natural as a boat on water. The orb sizzled like a branding but he held her gaze, stroking until his back lifted off the bedroll. He tried to speak, to beg her not to go, not now, not when the world was so close to making sense again, but no sound came. Still she smiled and brought her lips to his ear, close enough to feel her breath, close enough to feel the tip of her tongue when she at long last whispered, “Gale.”

His eyes shot open. The Weave flowed from his pupils and drowned the world in lilac, droplets spilling down his fingers. He sat up and clutched his heart. Copper dribbled from his mouth and he coughed at the taste, a pounding in his head like a great aching heartbeat. He looked around, tried to catch his breath, but only coughed again.

He was blind. There was nothing but the Weave, so bright in his eyes it burned white. A terrible shiver ran through him and for a moment he thought the last thing he’d ever see was Noa’s face. He tucked himself back into his trousers and blinked again and again until the monstrous glow dwindled back to lilac, and finally to nothing.

With enough breathing the crickets’ song poked through the thunderclap in his ears and he steadied himself on one hand. Felt the soil beneath his fingers as the world retook shape. Focused on the toppled tomes at his feet as the vice loosened around his temple. He lifted his sticky palm without looking and lightly jerked his wrist, the Weave slipping over his skin like a glove before it disappeared again to take the mess with it.

But when that hushed breeze no more than a whisper rolled into his tent, he turned toward it, opening and closing his fist though he didn’t know why. Perhaps as a reminder of how foolish he’d been, that he’d nearly broken the promise he made to himself by doing something this stupid, by putting this many innocent lives in danger. He studied his hand, its shape mostly lost to the dark, and slowly opened his fist again. Perhaps it was something else.

An unwelcome wavelet of guilt trickled down his back and he cinched his tent closed, lying on his bedroll as if he hadn’t just tainted Noa’s trust or nearly blown away half the Sword Coast. All around was black and there was nothing he could do now but wait for the shadows to make sense, to watch the canvas overhead and see if he could return home.

And in time, he did.

He didn’t know how he’d look at her in the morning. How he’d look at himself. But in that quiet moment beneath the Waterdeep moon he remembered the way she looked at him, and sleep came easy.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 smut #baldurs gate gale #bg3 tav #bg3 writing #bg3 fanfic #galemance #gale x oc

115 notes · View notes