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thecherrypittttttt · 2 months ago

Text

PEACHY; dr jack abbot x dr!reader

words: 8,800+

content warnings: a lil bit smutty, bit of an age gap, pining, the whole ED gang, fluffy <3

summary: the 4 times they didn’t get caught and the 1 time they did

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

In hindsight, the first time they were almost caught, was probably the closest call.

They were at a lake resort, about an hour or so outside of Pittsburgh, for the annual Emergency Department resident program retreat. The air was muggy - thick with humidity and loud with the mundane buzzing of mosquitoes.

Every year, after the chief residents graduate, the attendings take the whole program on a weekend retreat somewhere. Usually it is some random bed and breakfast that barely has a pool. Not that anyone cares. Everyone is happy for a weekend of relaxation and the chance to actually see the sun for 48 hours.

The hospital funds an abysmally small portion of the retreat since it is technically the time when everyone gives their feedback on the residency program. Graduating residents and attending physicians partake in evaluations on both the program and each other. The attendings rotate every year who pays for the rest of it. This year, it was Dr Abbot's turn.

Dr Abbot had spared no expense. They were at one of the nicest resorts in Pennsylvania. It had everything. Horse riding, axe throwing, two golf courses, bowling, cooking classes, a holistic healing spa, and what the residents had all decided was the one thing more tiring than the ED - the Team Building Adventure Package they were all signed up for.

The attendings spent the weekend doing who knows what while the residents conquered a high ropes challenge course, zip lining, and a climbing wall.

Yes, Dr Abbot had spared no expense but he had spared no free time either.

She was excited for this trip. For the sunshine, sure. But the chance to finally, maybe, get Dr Abbot to crack. She saw the way he tried to pretend not to look at her in the ED. She noticed the hoops he would jump through to have her on a case with him. The excuses he made up to text her - citing some random medical journal that yes, she was interested in. But she was far more interested in him.

If only he wasn't such a damn good guy. She knew he would never touch his resident no matter how much he liked her. They have had too many late night and early morning conversations up on the roof or at the diner next to the hospital or that bench in the park across the street where he had had his chance. So many times. She knew he was waiting for her to give the green light. For her to make the first move.

One night he started calling the bench in the park 'their bench'. She almost kissed him that night. But she chickened out. Now that residency was over and she would be starting as an attending at The Pitt shortly, she was feeling a newfound sense of confidence. So she bought a new string bikini for the retreat. If only she had had a chance to wear it. Or even see him.

Jack smiles to himself as he dips into the lake. He feels kind of bad. Making the residents work like this on the retreat. But he knew he couldn't see her in a bikini so he packed their schedules with the random team building program the resort had offered.

He already felt disrespectful enough with the thoughts he had about her when she was in hospital issued scrubs. If he saw her in a bikini, he would not make it through this weekend without cracking. Her half naked and technically no longer being his resident was a very dangerous combination and he was thanking his lucky stars that he had made it through the full 48 hours barely even seeing her. He missed her, of course. But she was better off without him. Practically 15 years his junior and Jack was almost certain she didn't see him as anything other than a good boss or a mentor.

Some nights he let himself think otherwise. Usually, when they'd go sit and chat on their bench and something in her eyes was practically begging him to kiss her. Jack would just chalk it up to him projecting onto her. Because gosh, he wanted to kiss her so bad. But he respected her too much to put her in a potentially uncomfortable situation.

Yes, they were close. Yes, they got along. Yes, they laughed together. Yes, they cried together and then comforted each other. But he did not want to be that male attending that took his resident simply being kind to him as romantic interest.

He lets himself actually think about her for the first time since they saw each other at check in. He can't help but huff a laugh to himself at the fact that she is probably pissed off at him for making them do so much physical activity over the weekend. He is definitely going to be hearing about it tomorrow on their shift. He can't wait to see her.

A creak on the dock shakes him out of his thoughts.

He must be dreaming. He did everything possible to avoid her this weekend. Specifically, her in a bikini. And here she was, practically glowing in the moonlight, wearing the tiniest purple string bikini and a knit coverup dress that wasn't doing much covering up. Jack is happy it is dark out because he is pretty sure that his face is tomato red.

She doesn't say anything. Just stops at the end of the dock, staring at him with her hand on her hip.

"What are you doing here?" is all he manages to choke out.

"Well, I bought this new bikini and haven't had a chance to use it because you've had us running around like a drill sergeant all weekend. Figured it would be a shame to waste it."

Jack is trying not to check her out but he knows he is doing a poor job when all he can respond with is, "Yeah, definitely"

She doesn't seem to notice. Just plops herself down onto the dock, her feet hanging in the water.

"Plus, I believe that I'm owed an evaluation with my attending."

Technically, a resident can do their evaluation of their primary attending with said primary attending. Since that is entirely counterintuitive to honest feedback, they give the residents the option to do it anonymously online or meet with another attending that is not their primary. No one ever does it with their primary attending no matter how good a relationship they have with them.

Jack knew she had already had her evaluation of him earlier today. She did it with Robby. He knew because he went against everything good and honest in him and read her file. He was dying to know what she said about him. And unsurprisingly, it was all good things. All professional things. Too professional for his liking.

Jack is typically a chatter box but the moon shining on her face is making her look more like a princess than normal and he feels breathless. He's happy to get out the couple words he is able, "You're brave."

They just stare at each other for a moment. It feels like a standoff. Who is actually going to acknowledge that they're both half naked and alone for the first time in well...ever?

"And you're stalling. C'mon, you get to give me feedback all day everyday. It's my turn, Dr Abbot."

She flips her hair and tugs her coverup up and over her head - sets it down onto the dock next to his prosthetic. Jack sucks in a breath and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is checking her out. She's doing the same to his bare chest and biceps. Jack barely notices because he is too busy wondering where the hell she managed to get a bikini that small.

The little smirk on her lips is what confirms for Jack that she knows exactly what she is doing. Two can play at this game, he thinks. He skips the boring questions about patient care and gets right to the questions he knows she is hoping he asks.

"How do you feel your attending's behavior impacts your learning experience as a resident?"

"The praise is encouraging. But the staring, the intense eye contact-" she pauses and Jack would laugh at the irony of it all, her eyes boring into his as she says this, if he wasn't holding his breath in anticipation, "-is distracting. But still encouraging."

Jack is silent for a moment then gives himself a quick mental pep talk. If he can be brave enough to be in combat, he can handle flirting with his colleague, "Well, if my staring is such a problem, why does it sound like you like it?."

"You wish." She kicks her leg as she giggles, splashing him. Her giggles stop quickly, the second Jack's strong hands wrap around her lifted ankle. He feels a sense of pride at her gasp and lets himself think that maybe, just maybe, he makes her feel the same way she makes him feel.

If only he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. He takes her foot in his hands gently, massages the arch of it as he asks the next question, "How stimulating do you find your attending's teaching style?

Jack can't hide the smirk that takes over his face as he realizes that she is struggling to answer - because of his fingers, "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

She rolls her eyes. In the way she does so often, but this time it is a little different - forced. As she answers, she is hoping he hasn't noticed that her faux annoyance is actually just a front for how turned on she is over such little touch.

"Stimulating? Mentally, very. Physically, there’s a lot to be…desired."

He drops her foot in surprise at her direct answer and for the first time tonight allows himself to believe the fact that this might actually be happening. She takes his brief shock as her chance to dip into the lake. It's pretty shallow. The water line is high enough to lap at her neck , but short enough to where they both could either stand or tread water. He swims a stroke towards her, they are almost nose to nose but they do not dare touch. Jack breaks the silence, but not her gaze.

"To what extent do you feel your attending demonstrates ethical behavior?"

The question she has been waiting for. She doesn't miss a beat in her response, "To an annoying one."

Jack's eyebrows raise in surprise, "That's a first."

Somehow, they both manage to get a small laugh out. Jack is first and foremost a combat medic. There are numerous colleagues of his that would argue his use of, what they would consider risky procedures, isn't necessarily the most ethical thing of all time.

"Can you expand on what is so...annoying?"

"You're always looking but...you're never touching."

"Well, some would say that touching your resident would be unethical."

"Some would say that you’re teasing."

"Oh, really? Who? Did you raise your concern with Robby? What did he have to say?"

They both feel the air shift. It's the fun of their dynamic. He lets her have her fun. Lets her have control. Lets her take the lead. Lets her be her. Because they both know at the end of the day, the only other person she is ever going to follow the lead of, feel safe enough to be vulnerable around, is him. And he is damn honored.

"You know I didn't." He wants to kiss the pout off of her face - it's so cute.

"You know, he didn't mention you going to his evaluation in the tiniest bikini on planet earth so I am going to assume -" Jack traces the bikini strings on her hips then snaps them against her skin as she gasps at him finally touching her. "-that this is all for me."

Now she is the one left speechless. She recovers flawlessly, "Also, meant to put that in your evaluation. Too cocky."

"Why didn't you ask Robby?"

"Jack-"

"When I ask my residents questions, I expect an answer. You know that." Jack's hands move up, rubbing at the sides of her waist. He feels how fast her heart is beating now. The pace matches his own, making his breath hitch. The confirmation that she is feeling as keyed up as he is gives him the confidence to brush his fingers, just under her breast, but careful not to touch it.

"Because I don't want Robby to touch me." His hands drift to the back of her thighs, lifting her legs around his waist. She feels him hard against her and tries not to drop her head back in the satisfaction of finally feeling him. She reaches her hands around his neck, rests them where his curls are. The curls she's imagined running her hands through what feels like a million times. Jack's hands rub up and down the back of her thighs as he holds her up. His fingers are dangerously close to her ass, but again, he's careful not to touch. Not until she says so.

"Who do you want to touch you then?"

She rolls her eyes again. This one is different too. But it's not forced like the first one. It's frustrated - sexually frustrated. "You know who."

"Whitaker? Shen? Langd-"

She mumbles "You're so annoying" before she is going to kiss him. He doesn't know where this sudden will power is coming from, but he stops her, one hand holding her up and the other on the back of her neck - keeping her in place.

"What'd I say about when I ask questions, hm?" Jack can't stop staring at her lips. Her full, perfectly pink lips that are so, so close to his own. They haven't even kissed yet and he's so far gone. They both are. He feels himself harden more than he thought was possible as she practically pants for his kiss.

Jack can't take it anymore, his thumb reaches under her bikini top, grazes across her nipple. He'd rather bite it but he'll save that for later. He can't wait to find out what pretty noises she'll make then if these are the ones she is making now.

"Oh my god! You, Jack! I want you to touch me! Happy!?"

"Unethically so"

And in one swift movement, Jack pulls her lips to his, swiping into her mouth almost immediately. She whimpers at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Jack draws back just a little bit, to snag her full bottom lip with his teeth. He's pressing a searing kiss to her lips again as his hands reach for the strings around her back and then her neck, tugging them loose. His other hand that is kneading her ass grabs the strings on her bottoms, pulls those loose as well. He grabs the scraps of fabric and tosses them onto the dock.

He drinks her in and if he thought the moonlight made her look perfect earlier, he doesn't even have an adjective for right now.

He always assumed there would be a sun in heaven but now he is sure that there is a moon. She tugs at his curls as she presses another hungry kiss to his lips, her hands dragging down his body and slowly scratching his biceps. Yes, definitely a moon.

Jack dips his head, takes one of her breasts into his mouth. Licking and nipping at one with his mouth. Kneading the other with his hand.

He comes up for air and a bit of teasing, "This unethical enough for you?"

She smiles at him in a dazed way that makes his heart stop. "Almost" she whispers in his ear, letting her lips run down his neck - lightly kissing, sucking at the sensitive spots, and then trailing her tongue over them.

She runs her finger under the waistband of his swim trunks. He moans at the feeling of her finally touching him. He feels her smirk into his neck as he takes off his trunks, throwing them on top of her swimsuit on the dock.

Her mouth is on his again. Hot and desperate. Jack can't help but think he is the luckiest man on the planet now that he knows that she is just as needy for him as he is for her. She grinds her center down onto his hard length, and they both let out a groan. Yes, definitely the luckiest man on the planet.

"You know how long I have been waiting for you to kiss me?"

Jack is panting, he whispers back, practically speaking the words right onto her lips. "Didn't want you to feel weird. You deal with enough at work - you didn't need your old attending hitting on you."

"I knew it." That makes Jack pause.

"What?"

"You weren't making a move because you were my attending. I gave you so many damn chances and you would just stare at me. That bikini was my last resort."

"That bikini - is going to give me a heart attack. And I know this is ironic because we are skinny dipping and making out like teenagers who are past curfew but I have way too much respect for you to assume you loved me back without explicit verbal consent."

Jack doesn't even realize it slipped out until he sees the expressions move over her face. First surprise, then just pure joy, "Love?" she teases, her eyebrows raising and her hands clasped at the back of his neck.

Jack just grins, his thumb brushing her cheek as he kisses her again and whispers softly against her lips, "Yeah, I love you."

She tosses her head back and laughs. His favorite sound. Even though they are completely naked right now - it's her laugh that is making him blush the hardest. "God, I love you. I'm gonna leave the world's most positive review for that bikini because I have been trying to get you to admit that for years and if I knew that was all it would take - I would have done this a long time ago."

"Yeah?" Jack can't believe his ears. But she is nodding her head, mumbling to him that he is an idiot, and kissing him again because she can't get enough. Neither of them can. They have about four years to make up for. They could kiss forever. But a door slamming against the wood of one of the cabins breaks them apart.

"Oh my fucking god" she whispers. She would recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere. And under any other circumstances, she would be more than happy to see it.

Jack grabs their swimsuits off of the deck and into his hands, under the water and hidden from view. She flies under the dock. The space is small, but large enough for her to not have to go under water. She's hidden and doesn't have to hold her breath - that is all she cares about. She clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"I thought I told you that smoking was bad for you."Jack huffs. Dana laughs. There is a flicker of a lighter but it goes out just as fast as it was lit. It's broken. Dana sighs.

"Well, I need to go find a lighter that actually works but since I'm here - you feeling okay?" There's a lilt to Dana's tone. A teasing one.

Jack's brow furrows, "Why would I not be?"

"I don't know - I just transcribed all the attending reviews of the residents and I don't think I have ever read a more glowing review from you. I mean that thing could practically pass as a love letter.”

"She's a great doctor."

Dana cackles, "I didn't even say who it was."

Jack just laughs and for the millionth time that night he is thankful it is dark out because his cheeks are burning. "Okay, you caught me."

"But she is a great doctor. A great person too. Funny, kind, pretty, smart." a pause and then, "No longer your resident" another pause, "...single."

"Dana - what happened to you going to find a lighter that works?" That cracks a laugh from both of them.

"Fine, I'll leave you be - but you deserve to be happy too, Jack. So does she. I think you both do that for each other. Just keep that in mind."

"Goodnight, therapist Dana" Jack sing songs.

"Goodnight!" She yells back from her trek to the cabins. They wait for the click off the door before they are in the clear.

"Don't say a word" is flying out of Jack's mouth at the same time she teases, barely getting the words out between her giggles. "What a wing woman Dana is. Gosh, I just love her."

"Wing woman? Sounds like you have a crush."

Her eyebrows fly up her forehead in faux surprise as she points behind her to where Dana once was moments ago, "Oh, really? Because you’re writing love letters about me to our employer and everything. It sounds like you're obsessed with me!”

Jack mumbles a coy 'Something along those lines' and playfully tosses her bikini at her "Get dressed - lets go."

Jack is pulling his trunks on and jumping out of the lake and onto the dock. He tugs his prosthetic on and reaches out a hand to her. She just stares at him - blank and confused. They were finally there and now he wants to leave just because Dana had to smoke a cigarette.

He silences any doubt in her brain, "I'm not fucking you for the first time in a lake. You deserve a bed and not a UTI."

That tugs a laugh and a smile out of her. She ties on her bottoms and the bottom half of her top before she takes Jack's hand and climbs up onto the deck.

"Who knew what a gentleman you are." She turns her back to him, signalling for him to finish tying her bikini.

His whisper on the back of her neck makes her legs wobble in anticipation, "and I can't properly feel how wet you are for me if we're in the water."

"There he is."

They are a tangle of limbs and kisses and giggles as they slowly but surely make their way back to Jack's cabin. It is truly a miracle they don't get caught.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The second time they'd almost been caught was practically a year from the first. It'd been a year since the lake. A year of finally loving each other. A year of somehow, someway - not being caught at work - despite Jack being absolutely, positively awful at keeping them a secret.

They were head over heels in love and he was a shameless flirt. The only thing saving them was that he was a bad flirt so nobody had really noticed yet. Or so they'd hoped.

She had moved into Jack's house two months ago. If he had it his way, she would have moved in about six months ago. She was always there anyway. That is what he would say.

They had spent all morning hiding her stuff - making it look like she had never even stepped foot in the place. She was even practicing her reaction to 'seeing his house for the first time'. Jack couldn't stop smiling at her. He was just happy she was finally referring to everything in the house as 'theirs' and not 'his' - even if he was being bossed around. He liked it. He loved her. More than anything.

Every year, one of the attendings hosts a welcome barbeque for the new interns and med students that join the program in July. The whole program comes, at least the ones who aren't working, from the newest third year med student to the most seasoned attending.

Usually, if there is a new attending, they are supposed to host after their first year on the job. Jack made up some random excuse as to why he wanted to host. Everyone looked at him like he had three heads when he had volunteered but he knew that she couldn't exactly send out an invitation with the same address as him and not blow their cover.

They had spent all afternoon on absolute opposite ends of their backyard. Jack posted up with Robby at the grill. She was lounging on the pool chairs with Dana, Collins, and Mel.

She was killing him. She wasn't in that purple bikini. This was a work function after all. But she could wear a paper bag and Jack would be sweating so the high cut swimsuit she was in now wasn't helping his case. The only thing getting him through the afternoon was knowing how she would be once everyone was gone.

She likes to tease that he is the needy one. And normally, she is right. But if there's a couple hours where they are on separate shifts or apart for whatever reason, having to pretend like they are not practically engaged, she is on him like glue the moment they're together again. And she doesn't leave him be. Jack relishes in it.

Like he is right now. They're putting the house back together. Getting all her stuff out and back in its rightful place. When they set up this morning, they had basically split the house in half and tackled it that way. Now she trailed behind him like a cute puppy, holding onto his bicep and nuzzling herself into his side. "Can we please do this tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you. I'm tired."

Jack is so giddy, he practically giggles. He slowly lowers himself onto their plush patio furniture. Tugs her down on top of him. Her legs on either side of his waist and her arms finding their usual place around his neck - her hands in his hair. He cups her face, presses a long kiss to her lips and then speaks against them, "From what? Laying by the pool and teasing me all day?"

"From pretending that this isn't our house."

Jack grins at the emphasis, and then they're both in a fit of laughter thinking about the hilarity of the day. Of their situation. Of how they silently communicate that they don't think they can keep sneaking around for much longer. They don't really want to. They know this is it. That they are it for each other. So everyone is going to find out eventually anyways.

He imitates her, "Dr Abbot, where is the garbage can? Dr Abbot, where is the bathroom? Dr Abbot, where is the-"

She covers his mouth with his palm and feigns annoyance as she rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to ask where the bedroom is if you don't shut up."

"Don't need the bedroom. Got you right where I want you, baby." He's slipping off that damn cover up that is really never doing its job anyways and laying her down on the daybed.

He's kissing down her body, slowly. Doing his favorite thing - worshipping her. Her hands pull at his curls and he lifts his lips from her body only to murmur against her hip, "Been dying to taste you all fucking day."

He's pulled her bottoms not even halfway down her thighs when they hear the lock on their fence rattle. She is up and running into the house faster than Jack can even blink. He can't help but double over in laughter - he has never seen her move that fast in their lives - not even for a code.

Robby's voice shuts Jack right up, "Why are you laughing to yourself?"

"Why are you breaking into my backyard?"

"I forgot my sunglasses." Robby walks over to where Jack stands by the daybed. He picks up a pair of sunglasses off of the side table.

Abbot nods to them, "Those look like Heather's sunglasses."

Robby doesn't miss a beat, "And that-" he juts his chin towards the coverup that was left abandoned on the daybed, "-looks like something that belongs to another doctor we know."

Jack feels his face heat up, "She must have left it here."

"I was talking about Shen." Robby jokes, cracking one of those smiles that reaches his eyes. A knowing smile.

Jack just has to laugh. It is Robby after all, "I'll bring it to her next shift."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, brother. I'm sure you will. Along with a coffee and probably an engagement ring if it was up to you."

If only he knew, Jack thought.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

After that day at the barbeque, Jack and her fess up to Robby and Collins. They were both their respective best friends. It was getting too hard and they really didn't see a reason for it anymore.

Robby and Collins were about as surprised as Jack and her were when they found out about them giving it another go - so not surprised at all.

It was Tuesday night the third time they almost got caught. A Tuesday night meant Robby and Jack had a basketball game for the ED's rec team and Collins and her would go to yoga and for a walk. Probably stopping at some kind of wine bar along the way that Jack and Robby would eventually meet them at.

Tonight was different though. Collins and her took their walk straight to the park district that the hospital league played at because tonight was the championship game and the whole department was going to support.

“Oh look who decided to grace us with their presence.” Robby teases the second they walk into the gym.

The boys on the team are warming up - Robby, Whitaker, Langdon, Shen, and Jack. She feels Jack's eyes looking her up and down - she didn't wear the matching workout set for no reason. The biker shorts were short and tight. The sports bra was low cut and tighter. She had a sweatshirt on over it though - gives him something to take off later.

Jack just smirks and tosses her the basketball. She catches it with ease and effortlessly sinks a shot. She hears Dana and some of the rest of their work friends cheer from their spot in the stands.

“Ooo look! She’s got better game than you, Dr Abbot” Robby nudges his shoulder.

She rebounds her own ball and shoves it back into Jack’s chest as she responds. He’s smiling down at her. He wants to kiss her so bad, "Someone has got to show you fools how it’s done.”

Her and Collins cross the gym and take the steps up into the stands to meet the rest of the department.

"Don't turn around, it'll make it obvious, but Dr Abbot is staring at your ass." Victoria whispers it to her like it’s the most scandalous thing in the world.

Victoria is being so sweet, trying to be helpful - she doesn't want to laugh at Victoria but Dana's response makes her and Collins crack up. They can't help it.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, kid!”

Oh and Dana knows now too. Dana is like a second mom to her. She couldn't not thank Dana for wing womaning for her that night out on the lake. Even if Dana was a little floored at finding out what she had actually interrupted that night.

"Dana!" She tries to pretend to be shocked. But their facade is fading quickly and neither of them particularly care too much. The only thing they care about now is the bet they have going on who is going to be the one to accidentally get them caught.

"Cheers!" Dana starts as she hands over a solo cup full of wine that she had packed in the cooler next to her. "to Coach Abbot." Dana finishes.

Now she is the one staring. Jack pulls off his sweatshirt, exposing his biceps in the tank style jersey they've all got on. She huffs a laugh at the fact that every other department has a color jersey and the ED's is camo patterned because Jack paid extra to get it. She can't necessarily claim she is paying attention to the game but she is paying attention to him and how good he looks as he plays.

She also feels a tug of pride in her belly. It may sound stupid, but playing a pick up basketball game was once thought to be impossible for an amputee like Jack. She had gotten him the special running prosthetics for his birthday. She had spent an exorbitant amount of money for him to be able to participate in this rec league. But she would have spent much more because it wasn't about the money. It was about him feeling good, feeling like himself, being able to do all the things he loves to do - no matter what. That was priceless.

The game flies by. So does the wine. At some point Dana suggests that if she had enough wine on her they should drink every time Jack looks up at her when he makes a shot and everytime Langdon airballs a shot.

The team sits on the bench as they prepare for the last quarter. A groan comes from Jack, then a low 'Fuck' and she is doing her best not to seem overly concerned. Suspiciously concerned. He doesn't seem hurt. He's been moving great.

But then she sees it. The broken running prosthetic. He places it in his bag and replaces it with his normal prosthetic. He seems fine but her heart sinks for him. He must feel her or something because he turns around and gives her a small smile and a thumbs up. That makes her feel better. Collins nudges her shoulder, pointing towards Shen who apparently had just called her name twice.

She tears her gaze from Jack now that she knows he is okay, “What?”

“We need a fifth person if Jack can’t play anymore.”

“Okay?” She asks, confused. What does that have to do with her?

“Jack said you played basketball in high school.”

“Not particularly well.” She glares at Jack. He knew she wasn’t great. Sure, she had a bit of a shot on her, but she hadn't actually played a game of basketball in over ten years.

“We don’t need well, we just need able.” Langdon pipes up in a completely non encouraging way that only Langdon can.

“Convincing.” she deadpans.

“Please, we just need someone who knows the rules. Unless anyone else in the department would like to reveal that they are secretly a basketball legend.” Shen looks at the department, sitting in the stands behind their bench.

The department looks at her. She sets down her solo cup and stands up, making her way down the few stairs to the bench, “I want it on record that I’m a glass and a half of wine deep. And Dana is pouring so that probably is more like two and a half."

Everyone claps and cheers and whistles. Then Jack takes off his jersey to hand to her, she takes off her sweatshirt and the whistles get louder.

Her sports bra dips lower onto her cleavage than she was planning on ever letting her coworkers see. She didn’t even know she had the mark on the top of her breast until Langdon yelled from down the bench, “What are you hooking up with a teenager or something? What’s with the hickey?”

She is absolutely beat red and Jack actually does a bit of spit take from his water bottle. Jack and her were adults. They weren’t in the habit of giving each other visible marks, but marking eachother in places noone else can see? That was a different story.

"Oh my god." She has never tugged a piece of clothing on to her body faster. The jersey falls over her like a dress, going past her biker shorts and hitting mid thigh.

She quickly scans Jack’s chest as he pulls a plain back tshirt on, praying to whoever will listen that she didn’t leave a mark anywhere on him last night. She sighs in relief at the fact that the only marks are his permanent ones. The ones she loves tracing - his freckles, his birth marks, some scars. She’s made a habit out of kissing the scars.

She would maybe be a little sheepish about wearing a jersey with a big 'ABBOT' on the back in front of all of their coworkers if Langdon hadn't just made her hickey everyone's business.

"Okay on that note, let's finish this game." She manages to huff a laugh and rounds the bench to sit with the rest of them. Landgon is bent over, tying his shoe. She knocks him over and he mumbles something about probably deserving that. She feels a bit better.

Jack is up and in front of the five of them, explaining some play on his white board as seriously as he explains assignments in the trauma bay. She takes a peak at their teammates, to see if they are also taking this as serious. They are - deadly so.

She can't help but start to giggle as the buzzer goes off and they're making their way to the court. They all look like they've seen a dead body, “Guys, lighten up. We’re playing radiology, not the 90s Bulls.”

She feels a gentle tug on the back of her jersey, pulling her back to the bench where Jack is. She slowly turns around to him, her eyes basically popping out of her head. Telling him what her mouth can't say. Could he be literally any more obvious?

“What can I do for you, captain obvious?”

Jack lets the jersey go immediately, “Sorry - habit."

Her heart warms at that because she gets it. It's hard when they're at work - not to reach out and just touch each other. Not even in a sexual way, just in the way that they feel like extensions of each other and it's weird to not be able to touch when they want.

She's technically still on the court and he is technically at the bench, but he is the closest a coach can get to the sideline without being on the court and she is the closest a player can get to the sideline without being out of bounds.

Close enough to hear him say, "Just wanted it also on the record that I’ve seen you accomplish much more impressive, physically demanding activities than a basketball game while a glass and a half of wine deep. Like when you were hooking up with that teenager last night.”

She can't help but whip back around agape at him, a smile threatening to take over her face, “You’re a dog.”

"And stop looking at me like that."

"What? I’m in trouble for looking at my coach?"

"You're in trouble for looking at me like that with my last name on your back."

She opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by the referee who she is pretty sure is just a resident from psychiatry, "If the Emergency Department coach is done flirting with their new player, we can get this fourth quarter started."

She hears Collins and Dana cackle in the stands. Jack and her are both flushed for what feels like the millionth time that night and not from the basketball. The whistle blows and then the fourth quarter is well underway.

There is maybe a little more than a minute left in the game and against all odds, they are only down by four. She hasn't done awesome. She hasn't done bad. She's hit a couple mid range shots. Missed some too. But now she was definitely flushed from the basketball - they'd been running up and down the court for eleven minutes straight. And radiology had substitutions.

Robby makes an easy layup and they're back on defense. Radiology is passing the ball around, trying to kill time. She hears Jack tell Langdon to foul his player with the ball. He does, the guy misses both his free throws, and now the ball is back in their possession - for likely the last play of the game.

Robby dribbles the ball up the court. Maybe three seconds left and now they are only down by two. He dishes it out left to her. She's out on the left wing, behind the three point line and closest to the bench. The ball reaches her hands. All she hears is Jack muttering, "Shoot".

So she does. The ball leaves her fingertips and swishes through the net right as the buzzer sounds.

She turns around to look at Jack, her jaw dropped and a little shocked. "You did it! We won!"

And then they're both laughing. And his arms are around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her around before they both remember where they are. And who is watching. He sets her down and Robby claps a hand on her shoulder, "Be careful or we're gonna put you on the team next year."

"Absolutely not." She huffs, sipping her water bottle.

"I'm sorry - were you guys just hugging? We're all not going to ignore that, right?" Shen can't help himself. She knew he wouldn't.

"She did a good job." Jack says nonchalantly. As if they embrace like that all the time.

"I've done a good job all season. Where's my hug?"

"Those are reserved for players our coach has a crush on." Robby teases.

"Michael!" Heather chastises from the stands and that gets everyone going even more.

"Michael? Since when do you call him Michael-" Langdon trails off - figuring out for himself what's going on.

Jack and her just look over at Heather appreciatively. She mouths a silent 'Thank you' to Heather for taking the heat off of them.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

After seeing his last name on her back at the basketball game, and honestly way before then too, Jack could not stop thinking about calling her his wife.

They both knew that was eventually happening. They'd talked about it. They went ring shopping. She gave him a general idea of what she liked and then she left him to his own devices. She still wanted to be surprised. And she was still waiting to be surprised because he hadn't proposed yet. She was almost positive he had bought a ring because he had been acting so skittish the past week or so.

They're working the day shift together the fourth and final time they almost get caught. Robby and Collins went on vacation and they're covering their shifts for the week.

Jack is charting at the nurses station, trying not to stare at her everytime she walks by. It's been irritatingly slow. At least when it's busy they have something to distract themselves from each other.

“So Dr Abbot, who is she?”

They both freeze at Perlah’s statement. Jack stops typing. She was on her way to go round on a patient but quickly pretends she needs to make a pit stop at the nurses station to listen in.

“Excuse me?”

“The girl I saw you ring shopping for the other day.”

So he had bought a ring. She smiles to herself. Even more so when she sees how red Jack is. She winks at him from behind Princess and Perlah's inquisitive stares.

“It’s probably the same girl who decorated his house over the summer.” She pipes up from the back of the station.

Princess and Perlah laugh along with her. They're murmuring something about how they thought his home had a woman's touch to it at the barbeque earlier that summer as they're called away from the nurses station.

They leave Jack alone quicker than they'd leave Robby alone. They know he is not an open book and they'll respect that but that doesn't excuse him from some teasing. Especially if Perlah has got first hand information on him.

Jack stares at her, a smirk twitching, fighting to appear on his lips. She peels out of the station and to the staff lounge. Jack is hot on her heels and the staff lounge is thankfully, very empty.

"I could decorate the house if I wanted to. You just like that stuff." She playfully rolls her eyes and humors him.

"Sure you could, Dr Abbot. Just tell that girl she did a good job, yeah? On the house and the future husband."

"I'm not completely incapable of having taste, you know? I've got a pretty big diamond ring to prove it."

“I heard. Planning on doing anything with that anytime soon?"

He kisses up her neck, slow as his hands rub at her hips. He whispers as he reaches her ear, tugs a bit with his teeth and then, "Planning on doing a lot with it. And you. Exceptionally soon, actually."

Then he's pressing her against the wall next to the door and placing his lips on hers. His hand snaps at the waistband of her scrub pants, then under her top, over her chest and splays across her throat - lightly squeezing it. She whimpers at the sensation, her lips parting a bit further and Jack takes the opportunity to lick further into her mouth. They can never get enough of each other, they don't think they ever will.

This was especially reckless of them, though. They were plenty guilty of sneaking away to the on-call rooms or a supply closet, but the staff lounge during a fully staffed day shift was just further proof they were not keeping this sneaking around stuff up much longer, if at all.

She moans his name, quietly, as she reaches for his waistband. Any other time, when his brain was working, Jack would grab her wrist and tug her to an on-call room. But she's already got his head hazy and he knows they can't go much further in the literal staff lounge but he lets himself relish in her soft hand stroking his hard length.

He tells himself he'll give them just a couple more seconds - tie themselves over until they're off their shift. Or at least can find a supply closet that locks. Their usual spot had been compromised two weeks ago since it no longer had a working lock. He is silently counting down from five in his head. Five seconds and then they'll be done. But god, she has no business being so damn good at this.

He only makes it to three when the door handle jiggles and they are flying off of eachother. He sits in the chair closest to them. He can't go back out there until he is a little less...excited. She has made it practically halfway to the staff pantry when Mateo steps in.

She snags a lollipop from the cabinet and unwraps it. Jack has to physically keep himself from groaning out loud when she winks at him and wraps her lips around it. Way slower than necessary, by the way. She waves hello to Mateo and then looks at Jack, "Hope you find your ring, Dr Abbot."

And then she is out the door, but not before she hears Mateo ask Jack, "You wear a ring?" She laughs to herself.

Oh, he'll have a ring on that finger soon. They both will.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Their luck wasn't going to last forever. They were honestly shocked they had made it almost eighteen months with only Dana, Collins, and Robby knowing. Sure, they got some suspicious glances from Shen or Ellis sometimes, but everyone else seemed none the wiser.

They had had the night shift from hell. Nothing tragic had happened, thank goodness, but it had been absolutely jam packed with cases. She doesn't think either of them had gone to the bathroom or eaten or even had a sip of water for the entire twelve hours.

She knew it wasn't healthy. It wasn't healthy for anyone, but especially for her. She had been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes as a baby and at this point in her life, she could guess what her blood sugar was without some kind of monitor inserted into her skin 24/7.

Of course, she typically wore one anyways. Especially at work. Like right now. She was dizzy and sitting at the nurses station, head in her hands, waiting for everyone to finally arrive for shift change so she could get the fuck out of there and go home with Jack.

She could feel the shakes coming on and she really did not want to pass out at work. She's kicking herself for not eating the many snacks Jack had been bringing her from the vending machine. Where was he finding the time to go get those? She had no idea. But the incessant flow of cases left every offering unintentionally untouched.

Jack was protective of her. Not in a weird, possessive way. But he loved her, cared for her, wanted her safe. Her passing out at work, or really anywhere, was not safe. He could also intuitively tell her blood sugar, high or low. And if she was having one of those days where she didn't want to take care of her diabetes on top of everything else - he was the one injecting her with insulin or making her a snack.

Her continuous glucose monitor was old, as a resident she could barely afford the one she had and then she just hadn't thought to change it once she got her pay raise as she graduated to an attending. She usually could just tell her sugar levels anyways.

Jack was the one who came home one day with a new one for her. This was like his super bowl. His two favorite activities - taking care of the love of his life and spending a lot of money on new medical gadgets - all at the same time.

This new one could connect to her phone, easily communicate her sugar levels in real time. When she never hooked that up because sometimes she just doesn't want to be constantly reminded of her diabetes, he just connected it to his apple watch.

That is how she knew the ED was busy. Because otherwise Jack would be standing over her, feeding her himself, until her blood pressure was back to a normal level.

It was almost like the thought of Jack summoned him. Jack was second to shift change, behind her. He strokes her hair a couple times and drops a bag of peach rings into her lap - taking advantage of the time alone.

“Sit and eat before you faint, please.” He says gently. He sets a glass of water on the desk in front of her.

“Jack, I’m fin-“

“You’re shaking like a leaf and your blood sugar is-“ he pauses and looks at his watch, “64 and dropping.”

“Why do you know her blood sugar?” Mel asks, as she walks up, genuinely confused.

Both Jack and her are frozen in place, staring at each other.

“And where did you get those peach rings? We don’t have those in our vending machines. Only at the store across the stre-“ McKay trails off as she puts two and two together.

“And why do you get her blood sugar sent to your apple watch?” Langdon chimes in, eyes darting in between the pair of them.

“Wait, is your glucose monitor connected to Abbot’s apple watch?” Whitaker with the questions now.

Jack just looks at her, shrugs, and digs into his wallet as they both laugh. “I knew you’d be the one to get us caught.” She mutters, satisfied with her victory.

He slaps a $100 bill onto her palm. She pockets it and tosses a couple pieces of the candy into her mouth, still chuckling.

“Get you caught?”

Robby, Collins, and Dana are laughing uncontrollably. Because of course this is the way they would get caught.

“If the peanut gallery could quiet down over there - I could let you all know that yes, her glucose monitor is connected to my apple watch because my fiance likes to play Russian roulette with her diabetes and that is not happening on my watch.” Jack's voice is serious but the big grin on his face is giving him away.

“Quite literally, actually.” she adds.

“Fiance?!”

"Yes, now hurry up with this shift change so I can get her home before she becomes a patient."

"I knew that house had a woman's touch!" Perlah yells from across the hall, not letting her patient get in the way of any gossip. Especially something this big.

Eventually, everyone calms down. Her blood sugar slowly rises as she eats. Jack stands next to her chair for the rest of shift change, her head leaning against his leg, his hand softly massaging the nape of her neck and her shoulders as the other hand takes notes for the both of them.

They wrap up shift change, not without a few jokes tossed their way, and then Jack is kneeling down to be eye level with her. "How you feeling?"

"Peachy." She giggles. So does Jack. They're both a little giddy right now. "Take me home?" she asks, intertwining his large fingers with her own.

"Gladly." He smiles as he helps her up and presses a kiss to the back of her hand, both of their backpacks on his back.

They don't escape completely unscathed. They both hear Langdon as they're halfway out the door, "Oh my god, that hickey you had at the basketball game was from Abbot!?"

"Nothing gets by you, Langdon." Jack claps him on the back as they exit.

Once they're outside, Jack presses a kiss into her hair and murmurs "I love you". Right in the middle of the ambulance bay - because he can now.

If he knew getting caught would feel this good he would have slipped a long time ago.

#dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbot #the pitt #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbot fanfic #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x female reader #dr jack abbot x you #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction

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ellieputellas · 3 months ago

Text

guilty as charged | a.putellas

— Alexia was the perfect roommate. Well, except for one fatal flaw: she always lost your chargers. Fed up, you searched her room, only to find something you definitely weren’t supposed to see.

Tags: 18+, mdni, roommate!Alexia, dom!Alexia (kinda), strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, biting, impliedfuckboy!Alexia, slightly long build up before the smut content, tldr: finding Alexia’s strap and not being able to get it out of your mind, not proofread | wc: 6k+

masterlist | do not repost or plagiarize!

"Alexia!" You shouted at your roommate who was taking too long in the bathroom. "Where's my charger? I thought I told you to buy your own already."

"Espera!" The Catalan called back out to your frustration, still taking her sweet time in the showers.

"Rich as fuck but can't afford to buy her own charger," you muttered under your breath.

Alexia had developed a habit of leaving her chargers in the locker room or lending them out to her teammates, forgetting to get them back. And, instead of buying her own replacement, she had been relying on your generosity and kindness.

At first, you were cool with it. After all, Alexia has always been a generous roommate — buying you new shampoo whenever you were running low, ordering dinner for your weekly movie nights, and always buying wine for you two to share. So, naturally, you had no problem sharing your charger once in a while. You even decided to buy Alexia her own charger — the fancy kind that charged ultra fast. It cost you a bit more than the average phone charger would but you figured it was just your way of saying thanks for her generosity.

She lost that too. Within just a few days.

So, she resorted back to borrowing yours. And while it was just mildly irritating at first, it only got fully annoying when she started walking into your room while you weren't there, taking your charger and even bringing it with her to training. Without even asking. She just assumed you’d be fine with her borrowing it.

It was always a different excuse every time she lost it.

"Oh sorry, I left it at my locker."

"It's somewhere in the car… I think."

"I think I already returned it."

You tried not to let it get to you, thinking that getting pissed over something so shallow was too petty and childish. But you needed your iPad to do your work, and for that iPad to function, it needed to be charged… which was impossible to do if Alexia kept treating your chargers like they were disposable.

"God," you groaned as you stared at the wall clock, feeling antsy about a deadline. "Alexia! Can't you just tell me where it is?"

"Espera! I'm still washing my hair." She said with an annoyed tone which just annoyed you even more. How is she the one getting annoyed? She’s the one who lost it again.

"Fuck it, I'll get it myself." You groaned under your breath before rifling through her stuff with zero patience. “Where the fuck did she put it?”

Annoyed, you yanked open the drawer built into the side of her bed frame. Unlike the other drawers with things haphazardly thrown in, this one had its contents neatly folded beneath a thin blanket. Without thinking about why the blanket was there in the first place, you pulled it back and froze.

That’s when you saw it right in front of you: a massive, light pink dildo strapped to a harness Your brain short-circuited. You weren’t exactly prudish or conservative; you had your own vibrator tucked away in your panty drawer. But this? This was… a lot.

Your eyes darted over the rest of the drawer. Bottles of flavored lube. Handcuffs. A ball gag. A various selection of dildos and vibrators. On top of it rested the huge pink strap-on you first saw, the cherry on top to this kinky mix. Who knew your polite, friendly roommate was this —

“What are you doing?”

Your soul left your body as soon as you heard Alexia calmly inquire behind you. You spun around, heart hammering. Alexia stood in the doorway, fresh from the shower. She was clad in nothing but a sports bra and a towel slung low on her hips. Her hair was damp from the shower, hanging by the side of her face, dropping beads of water down her wide shoulders and further down her glistening abdomen.

“I—I was looking for my charger,” you stammered nervously, standing up from your crouched-over position. You straightened yourself, wiping the beads of sweat on your forehead and straightening your shirt. “I couldn’t find it and I’ve got a deadline today and... and you know how much I need it.”

You stumbled upon your words, causing Alexia to raise an eyebrow in amusement. You cleared your throat, trying to seem unbothered by what you just saw. “This is just like… the sixth or seventh charger that you haven’t returned.” You said, trying to steady your voice.

Alexia’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as her gaze flicked to the cabinet you’d so carelessly left open. She didn’t look embarrassed or pissed. Not even remotely phased. Just… amused. “Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s literally right there.”

She nodded toward the direction of the chair in front of her work desk placed at the corner of the room. Sitting on top of her iPad, plain as day, was your charger. Heat rushed to your face. How had you missed something so obvious? You could have just swept the room first. Instead, you’d snooped immediately through her drawer and discovered she was some kind of sexual deviant.

“Oh,” you squeaked. Without another word, you lunged for the charger, swiftly grabbing it. You gave a tight-lipped smile to Alexia before holding it up just to show her you got it. It took everything in you to only look at your roommate from the head up, not allowing your gaze to lower down to her bare torso. You were never flustered like this around Alexia. She was often sauntering around the house in just a sports bra and workout shorts; it never bothered you… until now. “I guess I just missed it.”

You spun on your heel and bolted for your room, shutting the door behind you. Pressing your back against it, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “What the fuck did I just see?”

Alexia found it cute how flustered you acted after the incident.

She had always been careful about her intimate life. When living with roommates, she never brought girls home, never let her personal indulgences spill beyond the walls of her bedroom. It was a part of her life she preferred to keep discreet and private. Though, at times, it wasn’t easy.

She briefly recalled the short period when she roomed with Marta during the pre-CGH days, when her co-captain was still single. Keeping that side of herself hidden had been a challenge, especially when they were sleeping just a few feet apart, separated by non-soundproof walls. Bringing girls home had become a strategic endeavor, timed around Marta’s schedule, because Alexia was very aware that her extracurricular activities weren’t exactly… quiet.

After years of having roommates, Alexia thought maybe it was time she stopped sharing her space. She was earning enough to live alone, and most of her teammates no longer needed to split rent either. It had seemed like a natural step forward.

Then you came along.

You were the team’s new graphic designer, originally working for the men’s team until the club restructured and brought in a new agency to replace your old role. That shift had introduced you to the women’s squad, and Alexia had taken an interest in your work almost immediately. At first, you chalked up her attentiveness to her captain’s duties; it was something you presumed was to be expected of Alexia.

But then she did something you never saw coming.

When the team heard you might have to quit — your apartment was full of black mold, and finding an affordable place nearby on short notice was impossible — Alexia made you an unexpected offer. She had a spacious place with two bedrooms and didn’t mind charging you below market value, making it the perfect solution.

You had understood what a big gesture that was for her. What you hadn’t known was just how much she had given up by letting you move in.

Her newfound freedom was gone. She could no longer bring girls home on a whim, given your unpredictable work modality schedule. Late-night hookups were practically impossible when you were always up until ungodly hours, hunched over your iPad in the living room, working on some random side gig.

Alexia knew that you two were old enough to understand that sex was a part of life and that bringing home girls shouldn’t be a thing to be ashamed of. But she knew that her situation was different. It wasn’t that simple

Still, she didn’t mind. She liked having you around far more than she missed fucking around.

Though you having found her stash did have her thinking that probably she treated it far more taboo than what it was. So what if she liked loud, unrestrained sex that could last for hours? It wasn’t like it happened every night. And surely, you had a few toys of your own tucked away in your room.

Maybe this could be an opportunity — a way for you to start accepting that your roommate simply… enjoyed being active.

So, she tried opening up the subject. While you two were cooking your respective dinners, Alexia tried casually asking you if you remembered what you had seen in her cabinet. You were so startled you nearly cut your finger instead of a potato.

While you two were on the drive back from work, Alexia tried to engage you in a conversation about sex but you pretended to have a bad stomach, making fake groaning sounds to pretend you couldn’t hear what you were saying.

Honestly, Alexia should have been frustrated by your immaturity, by your outright refusal to discuss something so simple like an adult. But she couldn't fully get annoyed with you ever... and it was because of the massive crush she had on you.

Alexia always found you cute. She liked your quirky mannerisms and the way you made her laugh even if you didn’t intend to. She liked your work ethic; she always valued people who took their job seriously. It didn’t help that you were always walking around the house in very tiny shorts with silly cartoon designs that always caught her eye.

Her attraction to you had only grown the closer you became. You were naturally affectionate with her, always touching her in small ways — a hand on her arm, leaning against her shoulder, sitting on her lap whenever the squad was around and there weren’t any seats. You never seemed to mind being touchy with her.

A part of her knew that maybe she didn’t mind not bringing girls home because… well, she had you. Your company and presence meant more to her than casual sex ever could. That didn’t mean, of course, that she wouldn’t have you if you let her.

There were nights when she had to physically stop herself from suggesting a friends-with-benefits arrangement. She valued your friendship too much to risk it over something so fleeting; she wasn’t about to fumble a great friendship just because she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Besides, after seeing how you squirmed at the mere mention of sex, she knew you'd never go for something like that.

…Or would you?

You were hunched over your iPad, rushing to finalize a mock-up for new merch designs. The design head thought that since you managed social media, you might as well help out with merch design too. It made no sense to you but she had drilled into you that it was crucial you got it done by today. You wouldn't have been so annoyed by a task outside your job description, if only the assignment wasn't given a day before the deadline.

Hence, why you were stressed-out and aggressively illustrative design mock-ups on your iPad. It was already midnight and you were expected to report to work at 9 in the morning. It was just too little time.

And then, just as you were adding the final details, your iPad screen went black. The device shut off. When you tried pressing the power button, hoping it was just an accidental press that put the device to sleep, it displayed the dreaded low battery logo.

“Fuck!” you cursed, slamming your Apple Pencil onto the desk. You let a frustrated groan rip through your chest. You knew the battery had been low, but you had been so deep in the work that you ignored all the low battery notifications.

Great, now the momentum is gone, you thought.

Fine, whatever, you said to yourself. You just needed your charger. You pushed back from your desk and marched to your room, heading straight for the spot where you knew you had left it, which was right on top of your makeup bag.

Except… it wasn’t there.

Frowning, you checked your drawers. Nothing. Your bag? Not there. You even looked under your bed, as if it had somehow magically fallen and rolled into hiding. And then it hit you. Alexia had borrowed it again earlier this morning with the promise that she'd return it instantly.

You grew frustrated. In the past days, you haven’t really been angry or emotional around Alexia and it was mostly because you felt awkward about the drawer incident. But now, all you could think of was how fucking annoying it was that this happened again.

She knew how important your charger was, how often you needed it for work. And yet, she had forgotten to return it again on deadline night of all nights. Adrenaline pumping, you stormed toward her room, fists clenched. Without hesitation, you pushed the door open.

“Alexia, where the hell—”

Your words caught in your throat.

Alexia stood in the middle of her room, dressed in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of loose shorts that showed off the top of her Calvin Klein underwear, mid-stretch, her toned stomach and arms on full display.

You blinked, caught completely off guard.

For a moment, you forgot why you were even there. Then, you shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Alexia, give me back my charger.”

She didn’t even flinch at your tone. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her face. “Oh? Someone seems mad.”

You groaned. "I'm not just mad, okay?" You corrected. "I'm fucking stressed. I have a deadline for a task that isn't even part of my job's jurisdiction and I've been working all night on Blender and Procreate and —"

You paused to take a breath. "I just had enough, okay?" You said more calmly. “I just need to finish this right now but I can't cause you took—"

Alexia tilted her head. “I took your charger?”

“Yes?" You said incredulously.

Her brow lifted slightly. “I returned it earlier today.” She said. "Remember? At breakfast? I even fixed you a bowl of chocolate oatmeal as a thank you?"

You frowned, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

“I borrowed it this morning, but I gave it back before you left to work at that café.”

And just like that, it clicked.

Fuck.

You probably didn't notice Alexia returning it cause you were too busy working. Suddenly, you remember you had taken it with you. You had plugged it in at the café, worked there for hours, and then… left without it.

Your anger deflated instantly, replaced by embarrassment. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, feeling your face heat up.

“Oh.”

Alexia let the silence stretch just long enough to watch you squirm, then let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll let that one slide.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Sorry, Alexia. I’m just—”

“Stressed,” she finished for you. Then, her voice softened. “Cariño, don’t be. I’ll talk to your boss tomorrow and make sure you get another day. I’ll just put the blame on me.”

She smiled, stepping forward. "They can't say no to me."

Before you could react, Alexia stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her by the waist, offering a small hug to comfort you. You exhaled, tension still buzzing in your body.

“Okay,” you mumbled, leaning into her. “I'm sorry for storming all mad and accusatory like that.”

“I know,” she murmured. “Why don’t I give you a back rub?”

You hesitated, but your muscles did ache from hours of work, hunched over a table and stressed beyond belief. Your shoulders were practically begging to be rubbed. “…Fine.”

Alexia guided you toward the bed, settling herself against the headboard while she sat you in between her legs with your back resting against her. The second her hands found your shoulders, thumbs pressing firmly into the knots of tension, you exhaled a slow breath.

“Oh,” you muttered, eyes fluttering shut. “Alexia, yeah, that feels good.”

She hummed in response, continuing to knead the stiffness from your shoulders. Her hands were firm yet gentle, and before you knew it, your body melted into her touch. She rubbed into your shoulders at the perfect firmness, finding where the knots were on your upper back and shoulders before massaging them away.

“Mmm,” you murmured. "Fuck, that's so good."

Alexia’s hands moved lower, moving from your upper back and shoulders area to something more in the middle of your back. Alexia's hands kneaded the tension from your back, her fingers expertly working under the shoulder blades. You let out a slow exhale, sinking into the warmth of her body behind you.

“Let’s take off your cardigan,” she murmured, her voice smooth, low. “It's getting in the way.”

You nodded absentmindedly, already half-lost in the sensation of her touch. You were practically floating in the sensation, only to be snapped out by the sensation of her arms grazing your chest as she unbuttoned your cardigan. You bit your lip as her fingertips grazed against your nipples as she helped you shrug off the cardigan. The contact was fleeting— perhaps, accidental — but it was enough to send a sharp jolt through you.

Your breath hitched, and you hummed, trying to brush off the growing heat in your core.

Alexia continued the massage, but this time, as one hand stayed firm on your shoulder, the other drifted lower, her fingers ghosting over your left nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but your body reacted instantly. You jumped slightly at the sensation.

Alexia leaned in, her lips grazing your ear. “Relax,” she whispered in a low voice, her breath warm against your skin. "This is gonna help you release all tension. Trust me."

You hesitated, pulse quickening, but you didn’t stop her. You let yourself sink back against her, allowing it to happen. Her touch grew bolder. Soon, both hands were on your chest, the pads of her fingertips rubbing slow, teasing circles over your hardened nipples, the friction from the fabric of your shirt only heightening the sensation. A quiet moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

Alexia smirked at your reaction. "Yeah, just relax and let go." She cooed in an innocent tone as if she was still massaging your back. Now, Alexia's fingers moved deliberately, alternating between rolling your nipples between her fingertips and slightly pinching at them, coaxing more breathy sounds from you. Your head soon rested back against her shoulder, and she took the opportunity to press a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

A soft hum vibrated against your skin. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your body answering for you as you let out another shaky moan. Alexia's mouth was on you again, gently kissing and nipping at the delicate skin of your neck as you felt her hands slowly move under your shirt.

You whimpered her name as you felt her fingers against your bare skin, running against them. Alexia smirked at the way you were reacting and quickly agreed to letting her touch you like this.

Before you could even realize, Alexia was reaching under a nearby pillow. Under it, she had a toy she left from her own masturbation session last night. If your eyes were opened, you would have probably chickened out at the sight of the neon pink massage wand but you were too busy enjoying Alexia's playful, little massages.

Soon, Alexia had slotted in the head of the toy in between your legs, pressed against your soaked pajama shorts. She clicked the on button and you practically moaned out instantly. Your eyes opened but before you could say anything in protest, Alexia shushed you. "It's just a massage wand. It'll help you loosen up."

You were a smart girl. You knew what Alexia was doing and normally, you would have called her out but tonight… Tonight, you were exhausted. You were tense. And with the way her hands had been working over your body, the way the vibrations of the wand had begun to hum softly against your core, the fact that you've spent the past few days fantasizing about what it would be like to experience the Alexia Putellas…

You found no reason to stop her.

“…Okay.”

Your voice was soft, almost breathy, and it sent a visible shiver through Alexia. She loved hearing you like this: so obedient and pliant, so willing, so cute when you agreed to let her touch you.

She pressed a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear before murmuring, “Now, be a good girl and take off your bottoms for me, okay?”

You didn't hesitate, swiftly lifting your hips to push your bottoms off of you, kicking them off with your legs. Alexia put a hand firmly under your left thigh, pulling you closer to her. With her right hand, she put the toy back against your core, sending a wave of vibrations that had your legs trembling.

Alexia's left hand was back in your left breast, pinching at them to elicit tiny and cute moans that she loved so much. You unconsciously rocked your hips against the toy, seeking to chase out the pleasure, praying Alexia would turn up the speed so you could arrive at your orgasm sooner.

As you whimpered, gripping the sheets beneath you, Alexia carefully removed the toy from between you. “W-what?” you stammered, your mind foggy from the pleasure coursing through your body.

Alexia’s hand on your waist tightened slightly. “Last night… when you fell asleep on the couch…" she paused, teasingly. "You were whimpering.”

Your eyes snapped open, embarrassment crashing over you like cold water.

Shit. You had dreamed about her again.

Before you could even attempt to defend yourself, Alexia chuckled, her breath warm against your skin. “That’s not even the best part.” She leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just beneath your jaw. “You dropped your phone on the floor — probably right before you dozed off." She murmured. “So, naturally… I picked it up.”

Your stomach twisted in mortification, and you didn’t even have to ask to know where this was going. Alexia hummed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Imagine my surprise when I saw what you were searching for.” Another soft kiss, this time against your shoulder. “How to ride a strap.”

A whimper escaped your throat as she increased the speed suddenly. At this point, your legs were shaking.

Alexia let out a quiet laugh. “I thought it was cute.” Her fingers were now teasing circles against your inner thigh, making you twitch. “And I know you’ve been stressed. High-strung. So instead of just teasing you…”

She suddenly pressed the vibrator against you again with more pressure, turning up the speed without warning. A loud, broken moan spilt from your lips as pleasure began to build inside you. Your head tilted back, resting your weight onto the Catalan, body arching into the sensation as Alexia guided the toy against you.

“There you go,” she murmured, watching in amusement as you squirmed, your thighs trembling against hers. She subconsciously licked her lips as she saw your wetness completely cover your core and inner thighs. “You’re making such a mess, cariño.”

You barely heard her, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure. It was too much, too good. It felt like at any moment, you were going to explode with pleasure.

And then, just as you were about to orgasm, Alexia pulled the wand away again.

Your eyes flew open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. “Alexia, what the fuck.”

“Shh,” she interrupted smoothly, putting aside the toy. “We’re just getting started.”

The next moments went by so quickly that you could not process how you managed to end up completely naked on top of Alexia who was now wearing the pink strap you saw from the other day around her waist, on top of her Calvin Klein underwear. You bit your lip as you straddled her upper thighs. It seemed like you were gaining consciousness now as you stared at the silicone member. It was long and girthy, shining slightly with the lube Alexia poured on it.

Alexia’s hands traced lazily on your legs and thighs. “Come on, show me what google told you to do,” she teased.

You bit your lip as you stared at the obscene size of the silicone, hesitating. “Alexia, I don’t think…”

Alexia sat up, grabbing your waist as she pressed a kiss on your mouth. “Shh, of course you can,” she reassured in between kisses. Her mouth felt so soft and warm against yours. The sensation of her mouth on yours was hypnotizing you again, making you feel soft and needy. It’s like her lips make me dumber, you thought to yourself.

Alexia shifted the position so you’d be laying on your back and she’d be slotted in between your spread legs, she continued to kiss you, knowing it was what you needed to not feel intimidated and hesitant. Soon, you could feel her hands stroke your inner thighs. “Why don’t I help you out,” she whispered. “Just so you wouldn’t be so shy, hmm?”

You nodded, obedient and docile under your roommate. Alexia locked eyes with you, breaking the kiss. A sigh escaped your lips as her warm hazel eyes met yours. It felt like you could melt into those beautiful, honey-colored pools.

You were so captivated by Alexia’s eyes that you didn’t notice that she had two fingers playing around your entrance, desperate to enter you.

You opened your mouth and let out a gasp as soon as two of her fingers thrust into you, deliberately with a careful firmness to them. Alexia smiled, eyes still fixed on yours, as she carefully curled them into you. The Catalan practically moaned at the feeling of you tightly clenched around her long and thick fingers.

“Fuck,” your voice came out softly as you felt yourself clench around her, soaking her fingers with your slick arousal. “I want more… please.”

That was all Alexia needed to hear. It was enough to send her over the edge. She started thrusting in and out of you with a faster, harder pace to it. You moaned out loud as you felt her fingers slam into you, curling every time into your sweet spot, causing you to arch your hips and grip onto her shoulders.

“Just like that,” Alexia muttered against your ear, her breath hot and uneven. “Let me hear you, cariño.”

Any sort of restraint you had left was gone. Your moans spilled freely as her fingers drove into you mercilessly, stretching you open, coaxing you toward the edge. You felt delirious, drowning in sensation, the heat between your legs unbearable.

Alexia couldn’t count the number of times she had touched herself to the thought of you like this — writhing, moaning, begging for her. But even her filthiest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of you falling apart in her hands. You were so much more unbelievably stunning, intoxicating, and wrecked beneath her. No girl she's ever fucked before has gotten her this worked up. It was taking everything in her not to ruin you completely. She didn't want your first time to be too intense.

Her fingers worked you open with ease, curling inside you as her mouth traced a path of heat across your skin. She kissed and sucked at your neck, her tongue dragging along your collarbones before moving up to your jaw, nipping just enough to make you whimper.

But her favourite spot was the crook of your neck, right above your right collarbone, where she latched on and sucked hard, marking you. The second she did, you dug your nails into her back, moaning her name so loudly she knew the whole floor would hear but you were completely fucked out of your brains to even care.

You could feel Alexia’s smirk against your skin as she heard you moan out loud. She positioned her hand differently now so not only was she thrusting into you with two fingers, she was also rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was driving you insane.

Your thighs instinctively clenched around her hand, trying to slow her down as the pleasure was getting intense and you were growing sensitive. But Alexia wouldn’t let you control the pace or her movement. She pinned your hips down, forcing you to take everything exactly how she wanted.

“Take it,” she gritted, lips brushing against your ear. “If you try to press your legs together again. I swear to god I’ll stop right now.”

You acquiesced, trying to not fight the urge to clamp around her, desperate to get that orgasm. Alexia smiled as she pumped her fingers faster, readjusting her position and pressing her palm flush against your clit. Each thrust of her hand sent waves of pleasure crashing all throughout your body. The knot in your stomach coiled tighter, unbearable now, your entire body tensing.

Your roommate knew you were close, judging by your stuttered breathing and the way you were clenching tightly around her, but she knew she couldn’t let you cum yet. Not while she’s had the pleasure of letting you live out your fantasy.

Alexia pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you throbbing and empty and before you could even think to complain, she hooked her arms around your back and lifted you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as she shifted you back onto her lap, holding you steady against her hips, exactly where she wanted you.

“Ride me,” she said, her voice low and commanding. Her hands settled on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin, grounding you. “Show me what you want to do to me.”

With your desperation to cum, there was no hesitation left in you. You nodded eagerly, obediently, as you squatted above the strap, your thighs trembling with anticipation. You hovered just above it, adjusting your position, but even as you took control of the movement, Alexia never relinquished her dominance. Her fingers tightened around you, her presence overpowering, making it clear that even though you were on top, she was still in charge.

You bit your lip, carefully making sure that you were lined up, but Alexia was growing impatient. With a strong grip, she held you steady and thrust upward, burying herself inside you with one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion knocked the breath from your lungs, your balance wavering as you instinctively grabbed onto the headboard for support. The head of the dildo pressed deep, almost kissing your cervix, causing you to curse and shut your eyes at the sensation.

You took a deep breath before lifting yourself slowly, feeling every inch of her slide against your walls, then sinking back down, your movements cautious at first.

Alexia watched you, her eyes dark and hooded, her grip possessive as she guided your pace. But it wasn’t long before her restraint wavered. As soon as she saw you settle into a rhythm, she met you halfway, thrusting up in perfect sync, pushing deeper, filling you more completely.

Your moans spilled freely from your lips as your body surrendered to her, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating. “Fuck,” you gasped between gritted teeth, your nails digging into her skin as you kept balance. “You’re so big.”

Alexia smirked, dragging her hands up your sides before pulling you down harder onto her length. “Yeah?” she taunted, her voice thick with amusement and desire. “Too big for you?”

You could only nod, barely able to think, barely able to breathe, as she took back every ounce of control you thought you had. “Yeah, but it feels so good.” You said breathily. Even if you were already getting a bit winded, you knew you couldn’t stop now. Not while your orgasm was slowly building up inside you again.

Alexia moved one of her hands from your waist up to your breast, squeezing your plump breast firmly. She squeezed again at the sensitive bud of your nipple causing you to moan out again. She moved her hands back to settle behind you before she quickly sat up so that she could suck on your breasts while you continued to ride her.

The shift in her position caused the silicone member to curve into you, now pressing and grazing your sensitive spot with every bounce and thrust. Paired with the sensation of Alexia’s tongue skillfully playing and flicking against your nipples, it was surely sending you closer and closer over the edge.

You moved your hands to Alexia’s shoulders, giving you better mobility to ride her, breasts practically bouncing in front of Alexia’s face. She chuckled, sensing your desperation. She sat back up again, holding you upwards to keep your balance.

“Fuck, Ale,” you said, voice whimpery and erotic. You sounded almost obscene. “I’m so fucking close.”

Alexia moaned at the sound of your broken plea, her own arousal spiking as she felt the way you moved against her, grinding down harder, chasing your release with reckless abandon. “I know, baby,” she husked, her voice thick, hands tightening on your hips. “Just a bit more. Be good for me.”

You obeyed, but it was barely conscious — your body was on autopilot, instinct taking over as you rode her with increasing urgency. You felt yourself clench around her, your hips stuttering as the orgasm was slowly building up, causing you to clench. Thankfully, Alexia never loosened her grip. Even as your strength wavered, she held you firm, guiding you through it, her own body rising to meet yours. The shift in control was subtle but absolute; your arms wrapped around her tightly, your forehead pressing against her shoulder as you let her take the lead, her strong hands dictating your pace, her hips rolling upward, filling you over and over until you were unravelling completely in her hold.

Your moans grew louder, almost obscene and pornographic, echoing off the walls in a way that made Alexia smirk. If you kept this up, you’d both be getting a formal complaint from the condo association by morning. Alexia shushed you. “Cariño, I know it feels good but you need to quiet down.”

“Can’t–” you muster to say out, still moaning. Alexia groaned, torn between wanting to hear every filthy sound you made and knowing she had to shut you up before the neighbors got an earful. Thankfully, she got an idea.

“Baby,” she murmured between gritted teeth, punctuating her words with a sharp thrust that made you jolt. “Why don’t you bite my shoulder?”

You shivered at the suggestion, barely processing her words but nodding anyway, too far gone to argue.

“So no one gets mad at you for being such a good girl and riding me, yeah?”

That was all it took. You latched onto her shoulder, hesitant at first, lips parting against her sweat-slicked skin. But then she snapped her hips up harder, gripping your waist and bouncing you with ease, using her strength to fuck you onto her strap. The sudden onslaught made you lose control. Your teeth sank into her skin, muffling your moans into the muscle of her shoulder.

Alexia groaned out but the sting of your teeth pressing against her skin didn’t stop her or slowed down her pace. The pain felt like a motivation to get you where you needed to be. It didn’t take long. Alexia could feel by your shaking legs and the tightness of your grasp and the breathy moans you were exhaling into her skin.

“Come on, baby,” she rasped, voice strained as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Give it to me.”

With only a couple more deliberate thrusts that pressed against your sensitive spot, you came undone, practically melting into Alexia’s arms.

It was a great idea for you to be biting against her or else your moan would have been heard throughout the whole building. Alexia held you through it, her hands steady, her grip firm, prolonging your pleasure as she slowed her thrusts, letting you ride it out. When your body finally sagged against her, she stopped the slow thrusting and wrapped her hands around you to form a hug, rubbing your back as she allowed you to breathe heavily against her skin.

You unlatched your mouth, a string of saliva forming from her shoulder to your mouth. You wiped at it sluggishly, still breathless, still full of her as she had not pulled out of you. Your forehead pressed against hers, the intimacy of the moment settling between you both.

“I forgive you,” you murmured, your voice hoarse, breath still uneven.

Alexia blinked, still coming down from the high. “Huh?”

“For stealing my charger.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexia burst into laughter, her breath mingling with yours as she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You hushed her, planting your lips on hers. "You still gotta make up for the seven or eight more you lost." You teased.

"I'll make it up a hundred times over if I have to." Alexia responded, a smirk toying on her face. "Just make sure you can take it."

It was gonna be a long night.

a/n: i feel like this is identical to all the other strap fics i've written but idgaf at least im writing again!!! anyway, still working on the longer fic and working on other ideas for shorter Alexia fics. i hope you guys still liked this AAAAAAA pls be nice

masterlist

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas smut #minors dni #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas imagines #alexia x reader #wlw fics #wlw smut #woso smut #mdni

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jungwnies · 4 months ago

Text

F1 GRID | taking away their food - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (comment if you'd like to see other drivers or feel free to drop into my inbox!) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : taking away their meal while they are still eating to see their reaction...

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 3490

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : when i tell you i love these tiktok trend requests, i love them...! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were on vacation at a beautiful beachside resort. unlike max, who preferred to stay offline, you were chronically online and had seen the recent trend of taking away people’s food while they were eating. what better way to have some fun than to try it on your husband?

max had a relatively short temper, but he was always patient with you. that’s why you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when his food was suddenly taken away…especially in an expensive restaurant.

after placing your orders, you excuse yourself. “i’ll be right back, babe, just have to use the restroom.”

instead, you hurry over to your waiter, who isn’t too busy at the moment. slipping her a generous tip, you ask, “while he’s eating, can you take away his food?”

she laughs, immediately catching on. “i’ve seen the trend! i’d love to do it—especially to max.”

trying to contain your excitement, you make your way back to the table, casually setting up your phone to record. the food arrives, and you both dig in.

as you eat, you casually chat about the upcoming f1 season. “are you excited?” you ask between bites.

“yeah, but testing is gonna be interesting. new regulations could change a lot,” max replies, focused on his food.

then, right in the middle of a bite, the waiter swoops in and takes his plate away.

max freezes. you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“what the hell?” you say, feigning confusion.

max blinks before his expression shifts. “yeah, what the hell? i want to speak to their manager. what are they, fucking idiots?” his voice rises, his irritation clear.

that’s it—you can’t hold it in anymore. not wanting the staff to get in trouble, you call the waiter back, who quickly returns with his dish. “my apologies,” she says, trying to keep a straight face.

before max can get another word out, you burst into laughter. “it was just a prank, my love. an extremely funny one at that.”

max sighs, shaking his head. “you know i was hungry…”

you roll your eyes. “we had a snack before coming here. don’t lie.”

he huffs, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “you’re lucky you’re my wife and not another driver.”

you grin. totally worth it.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“are you excited to see the family again?” you ask lewis as you adjust your dress, glancing at him through the mirror.

lewis nods, holding out his tie. “always excited,” he says, smiling as you step closer to help him fix it.

you both make your way to the family dinner, where you're greeted warmly. everyone loves lewis so much that they always prepare a vegan-friendly meal just for him—without making a fuss about it.

at the gathering, you and lewis naturally drift apart. he’s with your father and uncles, deep in a discussion about sports, while you join the women in the kitchen, chatting and catching up.

your cousin pulls you aside, giggling. “have you seen that tiktok trend where you take their food mid-meal just to see their reaction?”

you smirk, already plotting. “oh, i have an idea.”

once everyone is seated and eating, conversation flows easily. then, mid-meal, you casually get up, walk over to lewis—who’s completely engrossed in a conversation with your uncle—and, without a word, take his plate away.

you turn on your heel and walk straight to the kitchen, leaving him staring after you, utterly speechless. the entire table falls silent. the women bite their lips, trying not to laugh, while the men exchange confused glances.

lewis clears his throat, placing his napkin down. “if you all will pardon me for just a second.”

he follows you into the kitchen, where he finds you at the sink, rinsing a plate. his brows furrow, but there’s amusement in his voice. “love… what are you doing?”

you don’t turn around just yet, keeping up the act. “what do you mean? i thought you were done.”

lewis tilts his head, his expression both concerned and affectionate. “darling, i’d barely even touched my food.”

you finally turn to face him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “i know,” you admit, pulling his plate out of the microwave with a grin. “i just wanted to see your reaction.”

lewis exhales a deep sigh, crossing his arms. “and what exactly did you think was going to happen? that i’d sit there, starving, while you pranced around with my dinner?”

you shrug innocently. “honestly, i thought you’d be more dramatic. maybe throw a little fit, demand justice, give a speech about how a man’s meal should never be taken from him.”

lewis raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “oh, so you expected a whole performance?”

you nod. “at the very least, i thought you’d stand up on your chair and make a passionate plea for your food’s return.”

lewis chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

you hand him back his plate with a cheeky smile. “and yet, you married me.”

he takes it, setting it down on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “mm, don’t remind me. i think i should’ve put ‘no pranks’ in the vows.”

you gasp in mock offense. “excuse me? that would’ve been a dealbreaker.”

lewis laughs, resting his forehead against yours. “then i guess i really am stuck with you.”

you grin. “lucky you.”

he shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before picking up his plate. “lucky me, indeed. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’d like to actually eat my food before you come up with another ridiculous idea.”

you smirk, watching as he walks back to the table. “no promises.”

ʚ・george russell

george loves your home-cooked meals. after a long day of racing and testing, he always comes home with an empty stomach, ready to devour whatever you’ve made.

and lucky for him, despite spending most of your day rotting in bed on tiktok, you still managed to cook one of his favorite meals. so, when he walks through the door, you greet him with a warm smile, already setting the table.

“smells amazing,” he sighs, dropping a kiss to your forehead before heading off to freshen up.

once he’s cleaned up and comfortable, you both sit down and start eating. conversation flows easily as he tells you about his day—mostly car talk that you only half understand but love listening to anyway.

then, mid-meal, right when george is in the middle of a big bite, you casually grab his plate and stand up.

“i’ll just be right back,” you say nonchalantly, walking toward the kitchen.

george freezes, fork in midair, watching you disappear with his food. at first, he just blinks, processing what just happened. then, he calls after you.

“love?”

you stay silent, waiting.

another second passes.

“babe?” his voice is a little more confused this time.

still nothing from you.

now you hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up, followed by hurried footsteps coming toward the kitchen. you grab a spoon and take a big, dramatic bite of his food just as he walks in.

he stops in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring at you like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“love,” he says, slow and measured, “what are you doing?”

you make a big show of chewing, eyes closing as you hum in satisfaction. “mm. wow. this is really good.”

george blinks, looking between you and his stolen plate. “yeah, i know. that’s why i was eating it.”

you sigh, shaking your head. “honestly, i don’t think you appreciated it enough. i just had to double-check how good it was.”

he folds his arms. “by eating my dinner?”

you nod, taking another bite just to test his patience.

george lets out a long, dramatic sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “after everything i’ve done today—hours of training, media, testing—this is how you treat me?”

you smirk. “think of it as a lesson in patience.”

“oh, i’m very patient,” he argues, stepping closer, eyes narrowing. “but i will be getting my food back.”

before you can react, he lunges for the plate. you try to dodge, but george is quicker. he snatches it back, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“ha!” he exclaims victoriously.

you pout. “that was rude.”

george smirks, taking an exaggerated bite right in front of you. “oh wow. this is really good.”

you gasp. “now you’re just mocking me.”

he winks. “just had to double-check how good it was.”

you groan, swatting at him as he laughs and walks triumphantly back to the table, plate in hand.

“love you,” he calls over his shoulder.

you huff, crossing your arms. “yeah, yeah. enjoy your stolen dinner.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos thought of you as a saint—you could do no wrong in his eyes. and honestly, you could probably count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten mad at you… actually, scratch that. it’s zero.

this man loved, and he loved hard.

one of your favorite things to do together was cooking, but nothing beat grilling outside when the weather was hot. it became a little tradition—firing up the grill, making burgers, and just talking about the most random things.

today’s topic? trying to convince carlos to leave formula one so he could stay home with you every day.

“mi amor, that sounds like a great idea, but…” he gestures dramatically toward your beautiful backyard, “we would not have a home if i did that.”

you sigh dramatically. “we could live a simple life. maybe raise some chickens, grow our own vegetables…”

carlos gives you an amused look as he flips a burger. “you scream when a bug lands on you. you think you’re ready for farm life?”

“fair point.” you nod solemnly, making him laugh.

once the burgers are ready, you both sit outside on the deck, enjoying your food and the warm evening air. conversation flows as usual—lighthearted, full of teasing and laughter.

then, mid-bite, right when carlos is at peak burger enjoyment, you casually reach over and take the burger straight from his hands. not the plate. just the burger.

you don’t even wait for his reaction before standing up and walking into the house, taking a big bite as you go.

carlos blinks, completely caught off guard.

“amor?” his voice is laced with confusion and betrayal.

you don’t answer. you just keep walking.

then he snaps out of it.

“amor!” he calls louder, pushing his chair back as he stands. “come back here!”

you hear his footsteps on the deck as you disappear into the house, stuffing another bite into your mouth just as he reaches the doorway.

“oh, you’re in trouble now.”

you sprint toward the kitchen, but carlos is faster. within seconds, he wraps his arms around you from behind, tackling you onto the couch as you let out a squeal.

“no! carlos! it’s mine now!” you laugh, trying to take another bite, but he pins your arms, shaking his head.

“i trusted you,” he says dramatically, his face hovering inches from yours.

“and you love me,” you counter, mouth half full.

he sighs, looking at the last pathetic remains of his burger in your hand. “that was my best one yet…”

you pat his cheek, swallowing. “it was amazing, really.”

carlos groans before flopping off of you, lying on his back on the couch with a pout. “now what am i supposed to eat?”

you sit up, stretching. “i guess i could make you another one.”

he side-eyes you. “you guess?”

you grin. “fine, fine. i will make you another one.”

carlos huffs but follows you back to the kitchen, watching as you start grilling again. after a moment, he walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.

you smirk. “i know.”

carlos laughs, kissing your cheek before finally getting his fresh, non-stolen burger.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles leclerc is the definition of polite. he treats everyone with kindness, never raises his voice unnecessarily, and avoids causing a scene at all costs.

so he definitely wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen to his dinner—at his favorite restaurant, no less.

before walking to your table, you quietly slipped the waiter a generous tip and explained your plan. the waiter grinned, fully on board, and assured you they’d pull it off perfectly.

by the time you sat down across from charles, you had to bite back a smile.

as you waited for the food to arrive, conversation flowed easily. you leaned in slightly. “do you think i should start traveling with you during the season?”

charles’ eyes lit up. “of course,” he said immediately. “i would love that. and we could bring leo too—he’d love it.”

you laughed. “leo on a private jet, living the life.”

charles nodded. “exactly. he’s already spoiled, but this would make him impossible to deal with.”

the food finally arrived, and as always, charles looked delighted as he took his first bite. you chatted here and there, but you were mostly just waiting for the moment.

then, just as charles lifted another forkful of food and put it into his mouth, the waiter swooped in and—without hesitation—took his plate away.

charles froze mid-chew, blinking in confusion.

you clenched your jaw to keep from laughing as his brows furrowed, his eyes following his plate as it disappeared.

“amore,” he exhaled, swallowing his bite as he turned to you. “what the hell just happened?”

you shrugged, pretending to be just as confused. “i have no idea.”

charles sighed, rubbing his forehead before muttering something in french. you caught bits of it—something about karma for not finishing his meal last time.

still holding back your laughter, you watched as he looked toward the waiter, debating whether or not to say something. charles wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this? this was testing his patience.

“excuse me?” he finally called out, voice still polite but definitely stressed.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. letting out a laugh, you waved the waiter back over, who immediately returned with his plate.

charles looked between you and the waiter, realization dawning. “no…”

you grinned. “oui.”

the waiter set his plate down. “désolé, monsieur leclerc, but it was a request.”

charles turned to you, eyes narrowing. “baby…”

you beamed. “it’s just a prank!”

he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. “you…” he pointed his fork at you, squinting. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you leaned forward on your elbows. “i know.”

still mumbling in french about betrayal, charles picked up his fork again and resumed eating while you giggled, already thinking about what prank to pull next.

ʚ・lando norris

lando loves eating out with you—especially at small, lowkey urban spots where no one bothers him and the food is always good.

tonight was no different. after placing your order, you both slid into a booth, and lando immediately started rambling about something completely random.

“so i was thinking,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “if we ever get, like, really lost somewhere—like, no signal, no gps—do you think i’d be able to navigate us out just by looking at the stars?”

you snorted. “lando, you can’t even navigate a grocery store.”

“that’s different,” he argued. “they put all the good stuff at the back on purpose. it’s a scam.”

before you could argue further, your food arrived—a fresh, steaming-hot pizza.

“finally,” lando sighed happily, grabbing a slice immediately.

you both started eating, chatting between bites, until suddenly, just as lando reached for another slice, the cashier you tipped earlier casually walked over, picked up the entire pizza, and walked away.

lando froze, mouth slightly open, staring at the now-empty table.

“hey, i was eat—” he started, but before he could finish, the guy was already gone, disappearing into the back.

his head turned slowly toward you, utterly confused. “what… just happened?”

you glanced down at your own half-eaten slice, pretending to inspect it. “do you think they took it away because the pizza was bad?” you asked, struggling to hold in your laughter.

lando frowned, tilting his head. “i mean… maybe? but we already ate some. wouldn’t they have warned us first?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized it too late—maybe it’s, like, radioactive or something.”

lando blinked, deep in thought. “well… i feel fine. for now.”

then, shaking his head, he pushed his chair back. “i’ll just go talk to them—”

before he could stand, the cashier reappeared, grinning as he placed the pizza right back on the table. “enjoy your food.”

lando just stared at the guy, then at the pizza, then at you.

“were we not already…?” his brows furrowed.

that was it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as lando continued to sit there, completely lost.

“what?” he asked, blinking. “what’s so funny?”

still laughing, you managed to get out, “i—i told them to do it. it was a prank! for tiktok!”

lando’s jaw dropped. “you set me up?”

you nodded, still giggling.

he exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “wow. betrayal. right in front of my pizza.”

“i had to,” you grinned. “your face was priceless.”

lando grabbed his slice, taking a big bite while still glaring at you playfully. “i hope tiktok enjoys this, because i’m not sharing my pizza with you anymore.”

you gasped. “lando—”

“nope.” he turned away, holding his slice protectively. “find another victim.”

you just kept laughing as he ate, shaking his head at you—but deep down, you knew he’d totally get you back for this.

ʚ・oscar piastri

there’s nothing better than a good pasta, so while you and oscar were in italy, you decided to have some fun. recently, you’d been seeing the tiktok trend where waiters take food away mid-meal, and what better place to pull it off than in the land of pasta itself?

tipping isn’t really the norm in italy, but you still managed to sneak the waiter a little cash. using your very broken high school italian, you did your best to explain the prank. it wasn’t easy—your italian was atrocious—but thankfully, after showing him the tiktok, he got the idea. with a knowing grin, he agreed.

when you and oscar sat down, you could barely contain your excitement. the pasta finally arrived, steaming hot, and you both eagerly dug in.

as always, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. oscar was rambling about something—probably a weird f1 fact or a debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza—when you glanced at the waiter and gave him a small, knowing smile.

that was his cue.

without hesitation, the waiter swooped in, grabbed oscar’s plate, and walked away.

oscar froze, fork still mid-air, a single strand of pasta dangling from it. his eyes followed his plate as it disappeared into the kitchen.

“did… did my food just get stolen?” he asked slowly, turning to you with the most genuinely confused expression you had ever seen.

you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. “maybe… do you think something was wrong with it?”

oscar frowned, looking down at the pasta still on your plate. “but we’re eating the same thing…” he blinked. “was mine poisoned or something?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized too late and saved your life.”

oscar squinted at you. “so they just left yours?”

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. “maybe they don’t care if i get poisoned.”

his jaw dropped. “that’s messed up.” he started shifting in his seat, glancing toward the kitchen. “i should probably go—”

just as he was about to stand up, the waiter returned, placing his plate back down in front of him with a grin. “buon appetito.”

oscar looked at the waiter, then at you, then back at his pasta. his face was priceless.

“wait, what?” he looked genuinely lost. “was i… not supposed to have it? were we not already eating?”

that was it—you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

“oscar,” you wheezed between laughs, “it was just a prank! for tiktok!”

he blinked. once. twice. then, realization hit.

“oh, my god.” he groaned, rubbing his face. “you set me up? in italy?”

you wiped a tear from your eye. “yes, and it was so worth it.”

oscar shook his head, sighing dramatically before twirling some pasta onto his fork. “unbelievable. i thought i was actually banned from eating for a second.”

“you should’ve seen your face,” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes, taking a bite. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you smirked. “i know.”

oscar chuckled, pointing his fork at you. “but just so you know, you will pay for this.”

you shrugged, twirling your own pasta. “looking forward to it.”

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cherry-hulu · 6 months ago

Text

— Diamond Life : The Series

Summary: 13 in 1. Literally.

Warnings: OT13 x Fem!Reader, Free Use concept, pwp, ++ more. Basically just a lame excuse for me to write free use reader x svt 😥

Note: open for requests 🫣 this post will basically be the m. list for the series:)

Unfortunately, no matter what, men will be men. It's no surprise that sex talks was a norm within a group of 13 men. From watching porn, to talking about their experience with sex and kinks, there truly was nothing to hide between them.

They've seen each other's all. The good and bad. The soft and hard. Have even indulged in a few cuckold moments with one or two.

The idea of free use was first introduced over a monthly meeting hosted by Dokyeom. The boys were drunk out of their minds, none of them was sober and was clearly not in the right way of thinking resorting them to using their dicks instead of their brain.

Soonyoung planted the seed, mentioning it when the topic of fantasies and weird kinks was brought up. Apparently Vernon had a spit kink, Wonwoo had a thing for asphyxiation, Jun was into food play, and Soonyoung was into free use— what the fuck was free use?

According to Soonyoung's very slobbered and barely coherent words, it was when someone was 24/7 available for sex. Almost as if it was reduced to a hole, ready for fucking any time at any moment.

It was a too good to be true fantasy. The boys knew it would be nearly impossible to happen, to find someone so willing for sex and to have it at any moment. But it didn't stopped the scenarios from pouring into their head, blood rushing to their cocks.

The thought of just being able to come up to someone and just be able to slide their dick in without any ministry and no mind to their situation was hot as fuck.

Mingyu then watered it, saying "What if we all had someone we can pass around, one against thirteen, imagine how full she can get." And boy did that made their imagination run wild.

Seungcheol fertilized it saying "I mean, our 10th year anniversary is coming around. Doyun hyung did say that he'd give us anything we ask as long as there's an agreement.."

And Doyun — made it bloom.

[ 01 | After Hours ] . . . Scoups x Reader x Wonwoo — Sex, overstimulation, and aftercare. What a way to come home fron work.

[ 02 | Friendly Feud ] . . . Mingyu x Reader x Wonwoo — Jealous and possesive minwon

[ 03 | Accelerando! ] . . . Woozi x Reader x Shua x The8 — Everyone at the studio was working hard, and you weren't limited to it.

[ 04 | First things first ] . . . Hoshi x Reader x Jun

[ 05 | Release ] . . . Seungkwan x Reader x Chan

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churipu · 1 year ago

Text

JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.

note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".

but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.

that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"

so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.

your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.

whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.

the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"

"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."

the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).

and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.

it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).

it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.

he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.

when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.

"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"

the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.

and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.

to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.

when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.

he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.

"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.

of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.

"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."

you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.

"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.

and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.

actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.

inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.

you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.

ditch them.

"thank you for being here, toge."

inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"

a little translation: "i'm hungry."

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

Note

i would not survive wayne manor if i had to stare into dick's y/n blue orbs everyday

stop looking at me with those eyes! (again &. again mini drabble)

ft. post-kidnapped reader w/ yandere batfam shitpost

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ! ; related post !

thank u for sending this oh my god, i need to write about this!!! i absolutely love your art style for the reader, they're so handsome i'm crying and laughing 😭😭😭 and it's true!!! i will also die if i look at the entire family's eyes as a filipino who has never once stared at a foreigner's eyes because it's just so bright huhu.

unfortunately for your case though, your refusal to look straight at them just translates to extra unwanted counseling sessions with the family in one of the large expanses of the living rooms housing the available members for a meeting. it's a whole gathering where you're the center of attention.

and it's not only dick involved, it's also all the other blue-eyed bastards and an additional glowering, pair of green ones which shines the brightest of them all— and if not for cass and duke's dark colored peepers, you might've truly passed away because it's no joke that their eyes glint under the light passing through locked windows, especially when the sun is at its highest peak and hits at just the right angles to glisten.

not only have you no physical escape, but their obsessed stares never leave your form too, devouring and locking you whole in your place and claustrophobic to the chains of their bright-orbed gaze.

"(name), dear, as much as you don't wish for me to address the issue; it's becoming an unhealthy habit that you refuse to maintain eye contact with the family. it doesn't help that your heart palpitates, you perspire more often, and you make excuses to run to a different room when you do. what's wrong?"

you don't even have to look up from staring at your lap (as if you want to, hah!) to know it's your father's voice directed at you. it's a unique tremor that reverberates across the room and commands attention from all corners; yet when he speaks to you, it's coated with an unhealthily sweet reverence that seems completely foreign to someone who has never once spoken to him until now.

"u-uhm..." stuttering, you bite your lip, drowning in your own self-preservation that had you ignoring dick's stealthy steps to your seated body on the couch, only for his fingers to carefully graze on your chin, snapping you out of your attention yet being too late as he lifts your head up, forcing to stare at his wide-blown eyes.

they're unnaturally bright today, shining more than the beaches in those private islands bruce owns, it's even more terrifying that he's staring at you.

"it's unfair too... baby bird, that it's me you avoid the most," he groans, it grates at your ears but it was better to focus on your other senses if you wish to control the ever-living fear of miley cyrus' blue eyes burned right into your retina, now associated with dick's emboldened ones. his palms find its way to either side of your head, cradling it side to side, the contact forced you to continue staring ahead of him. and no matter how much you resort to blanking out, the intensity of his baby blue eyes forfeits you to focus on anything else.

yet it's the gentle graze on your side that encourages you to speak your mind, you really hate how infantilizing this entire scene feels, and comical that they're - dick - is taking your excuses too seriously.

"ah... well—" how do you explain that you're shit at eye-contact because, first, and can't deal with their luminescent stares pinning you down to your spot, brighter than diamonds and emerald crystals, second?

"everyone's just too... you know. i- i really can't explain without it sounding... uhm..."

"too overwhelming? too what? akhi/akhti? it has been years since we last took you in, and you've been perfectly communicating with us until now. what has changed? has that rebel, todd, dare to make another deal with you again which involves refusing to properly communicate with us? with me? because if he did—"

damian's voice slithers with conviction, condemnation and possessive threats that strike fear into your heart with every venom-laced word. if not for his head nuzzling into the shadows of your neck, the dichotomy of dialogue and action, you would've been convinced he's out to kill you instead.

yet the same gremlin muttering insults is your little brother who takes the entire space beside you on the velvety couch, rendering you completely cornered by his expecting glare. except now, unlike the mental torment he subjected to you, his green-eye gaze glimmers with concealed adoration you've learned to discern, he's always been a heckler for your attention; the tan hands wrapped around your waist in a snuggle tightens, not too tight that it deprives you of oxygen, but demands your answers instead.

like father, like son. as the saying goes. always finding solutions with unwanted affection. couldn't even push them away without them interpreting your actions as rebellion which only results in more uncomfortable competitions on who gets to cuddle you for longer.

and wait, no, they didn't take you in, bullshit! they basically kidnapped you. it's only that you've grown accustomed to dealing with them individually and as a group, but because they've been more lenient with technology, providing you access to wifi with supervised search results, you stumbled across one of , which not-so faintly reminds you of them.

your past traumas of them replaced with jaded motivation to survive and tolerate the ever living plague in your life you call your family.

bruce did advise you to associate them with positive things instead as a first step to your adjusting phase, and miley cyrus' anthropoidal, not-quite human stare isn't negative in any way, yet it's also by no means negative, if not unsettling— which leads you to a common ground, a common affiliation which helps you cope with the fear that they might harm you and isolate you with loneliness even further; forgetting your presence once again.

learning to love them was hard, so relating them to anything comical was way easier on the still-heavy burden in your heart which yearns for freedom burned off through countless of escape attempts, the grief of your mother's death now decades worth, and just the shock of it all that they're still interested in you until now that hasn't worn off still, despite the years passing by quicker than blowing off a candle-light.

still, everyone retains their gaze on you, never once breaking contact with your form as if you're capable of escaping their grasp. you try to look down, but to no avail, dick was too invested in hogging your head all to himself and nuzzling it in his toned stomach, whilst damian refuses to separate from his ever tightening hold which renders you unable to full grasp your thoughts and speak.

god-damned hypocrites.

"holy shit..." it's tim who broke off the silence, muttering under his breath in disbelief whilst his hand fiddles with the modded tablet bruce had given you as a christmas gift. his lanky finfers continue scrolling eyes fixated on the scene before him, every expression illuminated by the faint glow of your tablet's screen. the most visible feature, gazing at him through whichever was left of your vision unobstructed by dick's body; was of course, his widening blue eyes, as it seems like he'd hit jackpot with his appalled reactions.

it seems like he found the exact same picture.

would it be a bad thing now if you'd run away from the room once they all collectively hone in on the image before them? or is it too risky of a task?

honestly, with just how routine your life must be right now, you'd prefer to run, to feel the air run through your hair, to bask in the sun washing your body in its warmth.

maybe to find unbidden joy in another game of cat and mouse, or it may be another one of your excuses to avoid those piercing eyes once more if even by just a mere fraction.

or maybe you could stay for now, because is it just you, or did you actually succeed in traumatizing them for once instead of you?

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kenzdolls · 24 days ago

Text

SHOTA AIZAWA RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS .

⌗ pairing: shota aizawa x gn! ua teacher! reader

⌗ tags: eraserhead x reader, shota aizawa x gn! reader, mha x reader, bnha x reader

⌗ side note: i’m so deep into writer’s block it’s not funny. (◞‸◟,)

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ he first notices you when you're efficiently handling a crisis situation without breaking a sweat - competence is attractive to him, and also you didn't scream when that villain's quirk made everything explode into glittery chaos which was honestly more disturbing than the actual danger

▹probably officially meets you in the faculty lounge at 3 am when you're both grading papers and surviving on coffee, and you're the first person who doesn't give him weird looks for having his sleeping bag draped over his shoulders like some kind of comfort-seeking burrito

▹ initially thinks you're "too energetic" but secretly appreciates that you actually get your work done instead of spending meetings talking about "synergy" and "student engagement metrics" kill him now

▹ makes a mental note when you don't try to make small talk during meetings - respects people who value efficiency over asking him how his weekend was (it was spent sleeping and grading, actually, it's always sleeping and grading)

▹ notices you carry around a thermos of coffee that's somehow always full and warm, and he's 67% convinced you have some kind of coffee-related quirk because that's not humanly possible

▹ gets mildly annoyed when you organize his desk without asking, but keeps it that way because it's actually helpful and maybe he likes that someone cares enough to touch his stuff without wanting something

▹ observes you from across the room during faculty meetings, noting how you handle difficult conversations without resorting to present mic's volume levels or all might's aggressive optimism

▹ appreciates that you don't flinch when his eyes glow red during quirk demonstrations, unlike half the new teachers who still think he's going to murder them (he's only thought about it twice)

▹ finds it oddly comforting when you work in comfortable silence together during late-night patrol prep, because you understand that 2 am is not the time for philosophical discussions about hero work

▹ realizes you're one of the few people who doesn't take his bluntness personally and actually seems to prefer it over fake pleasantries - finally, someone with sense.

HIM FALLING IN LOVE:

▹ starts leaving his capture weapon in slightly more organized coils when he knows you'll be in the same room because apparently he has some kind of basic human dignity left

▹finds excuses to patrol the same routes as you "for efficiency purposes" and definitely not because he wants to make sure you don't get yourself killed by being too reckless (you're not reckless, he's just paranoid)

▹ actually starts drinking the fancy coffee you recommended instead of just whatever's cheapest, and pretends the taste difference doesn't matter even though it's obviously superior - he's not becoming bougie, it's just logical

▹ catches himself staring when you're concentrated on work and immediately looks away while mentally cursing himself for being unprofessional

▹ begins to hate when other teachers interrupt conversations between you two, especially mic who has the worst timing in human history and zero understanding of social cues

▹ starts remembering little details about your schedule and preferences without consciously trying, like how you always grade villain analysis essays on thursdays and prefer the blue pens over black ones

▹ gets irrationally annoyed when other pro heroes flirt with you during joint missions and has to resist the urge to use his quirk to make them stop mid-pickup line it would be for the greater good

▹ finds himself staying awake longer when you're both doing late-night paperwork, claiming it's because he's more productive with ambient noise (not because he's enjoying your company, obviously)

▹ unconsciously positions himself between you and potential threats during dangerous situations, then acts like it's just tactical positioning and not protective instincts

▹ actually considers buying new clothes that aren't just "whatever's comfortable and black" before realizing he has no idea what looks good and gives up

▹ starts timing his coffee breaks to coincide with yours and pretends it's a coincidence even though he's literally checking his watch

▹ gets secretly pleased when you laugh at his dry, sarcastic comments because most people just think he's being mean - he is being mean, but like, affectionately

▹ begins to worry more about your safety during missions than he logically should, doing unnecessary risk assessments about your patrol routes (he's not obsessing, it's just thorough planning)

▹ catches himself almost smiling when you successfully handle difficult students, then immediately schools his expression back to neutral too late, mic saw

▹ realizes he's memorized the way you organize your classroom and desk supplies and could probably recreate your filing system from memory - this is definitely normal behavior

HIM AS A S/O:

▹ shows affection through practical gestures - brings you coffee exactly how you like it, leaves snacks on your desk, and pretends he's not keeping track of when you last ate because someone has to make sure you don't die of malnutrition

▹ uses his capture weapon to pull you closer when you're within range, especially if you're being "inefficient" by walking over to him when he could just gently retrieve you

▹ shares his sleeping bag during outdoor missions and training camps, claiming it's for "optimal body heat distribution" and not because he wants to cuddle he wants to cuddle so bad it's embarrassing

▹ remembers every detail about your quirk's limitations and actively works to cover your weaknesses during fights, like some kind of strategically-minded partner

▹ lets you play with his hair when he's too tired to protest, and secretly loves it but will never admit it because that would require acknowledging he has feelings

▹actually starts going to bed at reasonable hours because you've convinced him proper sleep improves his quirk efficiency (and not because you worry about his health, definitely not)

▹ gives you one of his spare capture weapons "for practical purposes" but really because he wants you to have his protection even when he's not around

▹ shows rare moments of softness by pressing his forehead against yours when you're both exhausted after long days, pretending it's just because he's too tired to hold his head up properly

▹ starts eating actual meals instead of just coffee and nutrition bars because you worry about his health, and discovers food actually tastes good when it's not from a vending machine - revolutionary

▹ uses his quirk to stop your alarm clock on weekends so you can sleep in together, then acts innocent when you realize what happened ("did i do that? weird.")

▹ lets you be the only person who can interrupt his naps without getting death glares, though you still get grumpy mumbling and attempts to pull you into the sleeping bag

▹ actually smiles (small ones) when you successfully coordinate combo moves with his erasure quirk, proud of your teamwork and maybe a little turned on by your competence

▹ wraps you in his capture weapon when you're cold instead of offering his jacket like a normal person, because why be conventional when you can be efficient

▹ defends your teaching methods to other faculty members with surprising passion, shutting down criticism with cold logic and barely-concealed threats - no one talks about his partner like that

▹starts keeping a spare hair tie on his wrist for you after noticing you always lose yours, and pretends it's not because he pays attention to every little thing about you

▹ uses his underground hero connections to make sure you're safe even when he's not around, running background checks on suspicious people in your area (totally normal boyfriend behavior)

▹ actually takes days off when you're sick to take care of you, claiming it's logical since he'd be distracted anyway and not because seeing you miserable makes his chest hurt

▹ lets you reorganize his entire living space because "you're more efficient at domestic tasks" and definitely not because he likes evidence that you exist in his space

▹gets genuinely upset when you're injured, even minor cuts, and hovers while pretending he's not hovering ("i'm not hovering, i'm strategically positioning myself for optimal medical assistance")

▹ learns your coffee order at six different places and has backup plans for when your favorite cafe is closed because proper caffeine intake is serious business

▹actually starts taking pictures to "document important moments" and (definitely doesn't have a folder on his phone labeled with your name)

⌗ taglist: [open] ⌗ mutuals: @haikyuubby @va-3 @tulippanes @luvseraphh @gh0st-g1rll

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x gender neutral reader #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa

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illum1z · 1 month ago

Text

it’s okay to feel good

counselor!song mingi x f!reader

tags: sensitive topics on religion, coercion, praise, loss of innocence, pet names (pretty baby, lamb, love, etc.) corruption, unprotected sex(yikes), religious guilt, pleasure dom mingi, oral (f! receiving), cheating, eye contact, mentions of breeding, talking you through it, NOT PROOFREAD. (Like at all, sorry for any spelling mistakes)

summary: you would do anything to relieve this dark, invasive feeling in your soul. absolutely anything.

wc: 7.3k

“in the crooks of your body, I find my religion.”

track list- gibson girl, glory box, the death of peace of mind

Frankly, from the beginning, you thought it was out of the ordinary. And you had to give yourself credit for the fact that this was indeed your last resort.

For the past 10 years, you’ve struggled with a deep-seated shame in yourself. Growing up sheltered and with a family that valued innocence and chastity. Basically, celibacy was the only way to live your life without sin. While being raised that way was damaging on its own, after having left the church once you got out on your own, it followed you. The guilt...

It was instilled at a young age that anything along the lines of adultery is sinful and is to be utterly ashamed of. And even though those ideals are not ones you wholeheartedly live by anymore, ideas that you lived with for such a long time tend to stick. Old habits die hard, you guess.

So when you had your very first boyfriend, a young, kind, smart guy you had met in your public speaking class, you thought this was your chance. To break through and not let the chains of the past hold you back from experiencing new things.

When you guys had your first kiss, it went fine. He respected your boundaries, made sure to understand that you were kind of fragile. To be careful with you. You can't ask for better. But one issue is that he never ever tried anything further than kissing. You two could make out for hours, and it never progressed any further than that. On one hand, you were relieved that you didn't have to put yourself out there like that so soon, but at the same time, you wondered if you just didn't see yourself in that way. Maybe he didn’t find you pretty enough for sex. Or maybe intimacy just wasn't his thing. You came up with every excuse in the book. Some for yourself on why you won’t just ask him, and some for him as to why he never initiated. This went on for a year. A whole year of dating and not once touching each other.

You felt disgusting. Something must be wrong with you. Your boyfriend never even once suggested anything sexual. It felt like it was all you. You felt perverted, like all you were thinking about was sex. You’d touch yourself at night while he was on his computer, working in the other room. Your pillow in your mouth as you bit to muffle your noises while your fingers explored your body. Every time after you were done, a strong and hot feeling of dirtiness and guilt washed over you as you realized what you had done. Touching the rosary on your neck as you stared into the ceiling, breathing heavily, a prayer in the back of your mind raced by as you tried to calm yourself. The sacred jewelry on your neck was a gift from your mother. Something that even though held sick memories and painful reminders, it was just too familiar, and you wouldn't dare part with it.

“I'm not doing anything wrong. This is normal. I'm okay. It's okay. “ But you became addicted, touching yourself until it hurt. Until it burned, but it was never enough. Lust was becoming a drug, and each dose you amped it up, but it never was the high you were searching for.

You decided that after this had been going on for too long, you needed help. You could never tell your boyfriend. You’d be humiliated, and he’d find you repulsive. You searched all over online for a solution to this problem. Sex counselors were a thing, maybe they could help.

Nothing online was helping, article after article. Website after website. It was feeding you all the same redundant information, and none of it was settling the constant disturbance in your gut. You'd find yourself twirling your necklace again, leg bouncing from anxiety. You needed to be somewhere familiar. Somewhere that might ease you.

Slipping on some clothes and gathering your things, you walked out of your room, walking to your boyfriend as he sat at his desk, like always, typing away. You pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead and smiled.

“I'm going out for a little. I’ll be home later.” He gripped your hand a kissed the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“See you later, hun, love you.” He smiled up at you. It felt mocking, even though he meant completely well. He let go, and you walked out the front door. Making your way to your car.

You didn’t know where you were driving, but you were going somewhere. It was like your mind was on autopilot. Your brain clocked out, and your body took you where you wanted to go.

You blinked and found yourself parked at the cathedral you had frequented your whole life. Standing tall and sharp against the stark contrast of the orange and purples that littered the sky as the sun descended behind the steeple. The wind blew softly, and the streets seemed oddly empty for a Sunday night. The stained glass windows called out a whispering “welcome home” as you stepped out of your car and stared at the beautiful building in front of you. The wind started to become harsher nd began to bite at your skin with the cold. You walked up to the front entrance, purpose in your step as you ascended the stairs and slipped past the doors as quietly as you could.

Immediately, the comfort of silence enveloped you like a warm blanket. The tall ceilings with beautiful murals scrawled on them. Giant glass windows with depictions of different moments in history cast blue, green, and red lights from the setting sun on the altar. And next to it, tucked away in a dark corner in the front of the room. The confessional. An all too familiar space to you. You forced yourself to drag your eyes away from it as you stepped further into the space, heading for the very first row of pews. You looked around, the church completely empty and the definition of quiet. Just the soft blow of the wind outside. You sat in the first row of pews, taking a moment to just take it all in. You felt safe, clean, and forgiven in here. You sat in that pew for what felt like hours, just basking in the quiet. When you looked around again, you noticed it had gotten dark outside. The moon shone through the windows. The candles by the altar were the only light in the whole building, casting an eerie orange glow about the church.

And there was one candle in the confessional. It shone like a quiet soul inside that wooden box, seeping through the intricate carved designs on the door. You felt a small tug on your heart, like it was asking to go, to unload all the thoughts and emotions plaguing you. Let them spill free, unabashedly, somewhere to feel forgiven.

So you followed it and walked to the confessional, opening the door with a creak and sitting on the bench. You shut the door behind you, and it seemed like the world around you faded away, within the quietness of the booth. You immediately had the urge to just start talking. To get these things off your chest.

You talked about your guilt. You talked about your sadness. You talked about your lust, how it was plaguing you all the time. How you felt like your boyfriend didn’t actually love you, and how you felt like a pervert for always wanting to feel good. How it hurts to not feel good. Another 30 minutes spent in the booth trickled by before you decided you needed to head home. You stood, before bowing your head. Old habits die hard, like you said. A prayer you remembered began to flow past your lips with the ease of muscle memory. Hands clasped around the rosary and eyes shut tight.

“Merciful Lord, I come before You seeking forgiveness and healing for the sin of lust that dwells within me. I confess my weakness in giving in to impure desires and indulging in lustful thoughts and actions that offend You. Purify my heart, renew my mind, and sanctify my body as Your temple.”

You continued until the prayer was finished. You dropped your hands and turned, opening the door and stepping out.

But as soon as you did, you looked up from the knob and locked eyes with someone. A chill tickled down your spine as you stared past the altar, at a man sitting in the first pew, exactly where you sat for hours before. Wearing a tight, barely fitting sheer white button-up shirt, black pants, and sharp black shoes. His hair was slightly tousled yet still professional in a way. He was hunched over, elbows resting on knees as his hands came up, pressed together like he was praying, the tips of his fingers pressed against his lips. His head was tilted slightly down, while his eyes stayed up, locked directly onto yours.

Your breath hitched, and he didn’t move a muscle. His eyes bore into yours, the orange glow of the candlelight flickered across his features beautifully, and you couldn't look away. You felt small under his gaze as he pinned you down with his stare effortlessly.

Who is that? Why is he here? How long has he been here? Did he somehow hear me?

His hand twitched, then he moved it down, before fully turning his head. He narrowed his eyes. He smiled. He waved.

You felt a lurch in your stomach. He was unbelievably handsome, with the mole under his eye. The charming way his crooked teeth formed the most beautiful smile. The borderline [predatory look in his eyes. He stood and began to walk towards you.

Immediately, you stood up straight and made sure you took a couple of steps away from the confessional, as if you were too close, you would start spilling secrets.

He was right in front of you now, smiling down as the closer got, the smaller you felt.

“Evenin’, I'm sorry, thought I was the only one here tonight, I hope I wasn’t bothering you.” He had a deep, baritone drawl in his voice that felt like ice on your brain. This was not good. Not good at all.

“No, no, you’re completely fine, it's not like I own the place, I was just… visiting.” You smiled nervously, your palms sweating. Even though you were just conversing with one person, you felt like you had millions of eyes on you in the dark, empty church. His gaze alone was already so intense, the ghosts of former church goers seemed to stare at you as if you moved, the floor would cave underneath you.

His eyes traced your body, just for a flicker of a second, you didn’t catch. He caught your gaze again, taking a small barley there step closer to you. His hand rested lazily in his pants pocket. His other hand reached forward to offer a handshake.

“Song Mingi. I'm a counselor at the cathedral. It's a pleasure to meet you, sweet thing.” You smiled as you hesitated, but ultimately brought your hand up to shake his.

“(Name), nice to meet you, Mingi sir.” His hand wrapped around yours, easily swallowing your entire hand up as he shook it firmly, lingering just a little too long.

“So what brings you here so late at night (Name)? Can’t be anything good, right?” He laughs and nudges your shoulder playfully, a little glint of joy in his eyes. While mostly an overwhelming and intense presence, he sure knew how to soften the armospehete.

You smiled softly and shook your head. “Just… feeling a little weird lately, just thought maybe a visit to somewhere familiar might ease me a little.”

He tilted his head, and his eyes softened as he tsked. “What's going on, if you don’t mind me asking. I am a counselor after all, maybe I can give you some advice.” His smile was genuine, and he seemed like he really just wanted to lift your spirits.

“Well..” You bit your bottom lip, worried, before sitting on the red velvet stairs, resting your forehead on your knees as you hugged them. Mingi followed, sitting on the step a couple below yours, looking up at your face with genuine curiosity all over his face. You took note of the clunky rosary wrapped around his neck, the crucifix sitting directly between his rather protruding pecs that pressed through the thin fabric of his shirt. You tried not to stare too much.

“Its, hard… for me to talk about. I had just been feeling strange lately. Like I can't find rest within myself. I thought maybe coming by my childhood church and just spilling my guts in the confessional would help, but it's just made me realize that what I'm feeling and thinking is REAL. And not just… I don’t know. I feel like there's some kind of animal in me that just won't sleep. I can't even sleep. I'm always anxious, always guilty, and I somehow can’t even get my boyfriend to validate me when I’m feeling-” Imedicualty, your eyes widened, and you slapped a palm over your mouth in embarrassment, a heat trickling up the back of your neck.

“Sorry.” You whispered. “I started rambling..” You were too out of it to notice that Mingi’s hand had been silently and ever so softly grazing up and down your calf, as if trying to soothe you through this confession.

“You’re perfectly fine, sweetheart. Thank you for feeling alright with telling me.” His hand gave your calf a small squeeze before slipping away from your leg, back on the stairs.

“It sounds like you’re going through a lot right now. You sound tired, so let me tell you something.” You were still looking down from shame, and he softly btoguht his hand up and tilted yout chin upward so he could look into your eyes. That intense stare of his pinning you down like a fawn in headlights, you felt like you were coevred in a warm, heavy weighted blanket, like even if you tried to run away, your wouldnt be able to.

“My doors are always open to counseling sessions.” He points to a door behind the altar. “Over there is a door to my office. By the confessional. I’m here every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday from 4 to 10, accepting walk ins. If you’d like you can come back and we can try to explore these feelings deeper and see if we can work on getting you some well needed relief.”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his kindness, but also at the seemingly suggestive way he chose to express his words. Maybe you were really in need of professional help, he was trying to help you, for God’s sake. You nodded, and your eyes flicked to his nose, to his lips, to his chest, back up to his eyes. You felt like you had been caught, a small flicker of something in his eyes, his body shifted slightly, a small pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“That sound alright princess?” You took a second, mulling over your thoughts. This could really benefit you. This could fix the unrest in your heart. Fix your relationship with your boyfriend, with yourself.

“I'll stop by.” You smiled, nodding your head once as if in confirmation. “Thank you for listening to me.”

His grin widened and he dropped his voice down to a low whisper, coming a little closer to where you could feel his breath on your ear, his warm, woodsy scent wrapping around you, filling you with him.

“It's my job, sweetheart, no need to thank me.” Now, you may not know too much about people, but one thing you just barely caught was a slight twitch in his soft smile, like his lips wanted to smile wider, but he stopped himself. A look in his eyes that held a secret. A desire. It was odd, you felt so safe and comforted in his presence, it was almost eerie how easy it was to get you to spill to him like that.

I mean, you walked out of the confessional, and he was sitting in your spot, staring at you like he was going to eat you. That should have unnerved you from the beginning, which it did. But something was so alluring. So tantalizing and bewitching about him. Just a few words from his pretty plump lips, and if he had asked for your soul, you’re sure you would have given it to him.

You left, turning around to look at the church. The steeple seemed sharper against the stark black sky. The streets were even quieter, the air colder. The building seemed more haunted than holy now, but before you psyched yourself out, you got back in your car and drove home.

It had been a week since your visit to a church. If you weren’t going to hell before, you were certainly going now. Every night, the same routine continued, but this time, you were imagining him. Mingi, tracing your curves and kissing your skin. Mingi, reaching inside you and caressing your insides in a way so invasive it should be considered immoral. You wanted him pressing his body into yours, his warmth soaking into your skin as he pleasured you in ways you imagined heaven should feel like.

Just sick in the head.

There was no way you could go see him now, with these images of him squeezing your body and rolling his hips, mouth agape and eyes rolling and boring into yours in a fashion that felt like he knew your entire being.

You slept next to your boyfriend every night, not even daring to cuddle with him in fear that even just by touching, he could feel the want and the lust seeping from your skin.

And that's how you found yourself in your car, back at the church. The streets are empty again. The sky had opened on your way there, the clouds angry and dark, fat droplets of rain pouring fast on the streets.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel so hard it began to burn, but you didn’t let go. You were trying to ground yourself before you walked into the church and saw him. You needed to get a hold of yourself. With a couple of bites to your palm and a cold sip of water. You rushed out of your car and walked with purpose to the church quickly as not to give yourself time to chicken out and go back home.

You entered the church, albeit soaked to the bone from the rain. It felt darker and colder now. The candles cast flickering, dark shadows on the walls. Behind the altar was his office door. Standing tall and mocking, you pinched your necklace and took a deep breath before making your way to his door.

The carpet swallowed your footsteps as you walked to his door, past the confessional, the urge to tell secrets welling up in your chest again. You stopped in front of his door, a soft light emanating from the crack at the bottom. Your hand hovered over the knob.

“Come in.” The muffled voice beckoned behind the door. You obeyed.

Twisting the knob you opened the door with a quiet creak. Inside was a broad, beautiful mahogany desk, littered with papers, candles, and an assortment of Bibles. A large painting of Mother Mary was mounted on the wall directly behind the chair behind the desk, where Mingi sat. The first 2 buttons of his shirt were undone, and he leaned back lazily as his foot rested on his knee. His hand was on the table, his fingers resting in between stacks of paper, caressing the edge of the paper ever so slowly, occasionally slipping between sheets.

His eyes caught yours immediately, smiling as he gestured to the chair in front of him. A large velvety red and blue couch was against the left wall, and tall, gold-plated mirror was on the right. His eyes were darker tonight. Narrowed. Filled with… intention. 3 candles lit up the room, providing minimal light to properly see his face.

“(Name), it's good to see you again.” You sat in the chair, feeling his voice rumble in your chest as a roll of thunder sounded in the distance. He laughed gently before flashing that charming grin of his at you.

“Guess you got caught in the rain, huh?” The teasing lilt in his voice sent a little shock wave through your head, suddenly aware that you were still, in fact, soaking wet.

“Yeah it just started pouring as soon as I left, I considered d turning around.” You smiled in an attempt to hide your nervousness, before he reached across and took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Well, for what its worth, I’m glad you wanted to be here so bad you came anyway.” Confusion shot through tou but before you could even react he pulled away and cleared his throat.

“Now then, let's start unpacking this, yeah?” He waves his hand at you and smiles.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me everything that's on your mind.” You blinked. Once. Twice.

Oh god…

“Well..” You shifted in your seat. This was it. You were here for a reason. No time to be shy, this is how you get the help you’ve been needing. But his presence is so heavy… it was overwhelming your senses. The whole office smelled like him. The air was thick, and the atmosphere was dark. It felt like the painting was watching you. He was watching you. Picking you apart with his eyes, carefully.

“I’ve got this suffocating guilt that's been following me for what seems like years. As a kid, I was sheltered, being part of the church kept me away from much outside influence, and frankly, I feel like it's messed me up a bit, in a way… I don't know how to explain it. Anyway, so I get out, right? Out in the world by myself. I’m doing okay, learning new things and trying to work the world without the influence of the church holding me back.” You stop and smile, a little lost in your thoughts as you think about old memories.

“Then I meet my first boyfriend. Hes really sweet, smart, kind. Kind of the complete package kind of guy.” Too busy lost in your story, you failed to see how Mingi’s grip on his knee tightens, how his jaw clenches and how his eyes rove over you like you’ll disappear if he looks away for one second, enamoured.

“How’s that going?” Mingi asks softly, “Sounds like a pretty awesome guy.” There it is. He sees the change in your demeanor. The way your shoulder slumps, the burning shame in your eyes. The slight readjustment of your posture.

“Well, that's just the thing. He's great and all, a really good guy. But, he doesn’t seem… interested…” You refuse eye contact as you trail off, beginning to close up again. You can feel the heat crawling up your back as you know in a second the conversation is about to take an incredibly inappropriate and soul-baring turn.

“Interested in what love? Cmon, talk to me.” he comes over from behind the desk and squats down in front of you as you stay sitting in the chair, so he can look at you eye level. His hands rested on his knees, and he spoke even softer now that he was closer. “You can trust me. Let me help you.”

Mingi was so close now, and he was making it so hard for you not to just straight up start acting like an animal in heat with that look he was giving you. He was trying to pull the secrets from your throat with his eyes. Like a fish hook in your mouth, he was prying you open to him, and you just simply couldn’t resist

“I… fuck okay. Fine. I feel so gross because he won’t make any sexual advances towards me, and it's been over a year of dating. Yes, it's unbecoming, and it makes me feel so sick that all I seem to crave is for him to touch me. I'm so ashamed it's all I think of every day and every night, and we’ve never gone any farther than kissing. I feel like I'm missing out on so much because of my lack of knowledge, but I also feel like it's better for me to just never know. It's sick and it's hurting! It–it hurts me to know that it's not okay to feel good like.. That..” Silence fell, your eyes glued to your lap.

You slowly raise your eyes, ready to see the disappointment in Mingi’s face at your shameful confession.

Instead, a small smile, barely there, tilts up the corners of his lips. You glue your eyes to the rosary on his chest as you feel the deep, baritone chuckle that slips past his lips. The shame burned. You won’t look at him.

“Y’know. I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?” You felt a finger pinch your chin gently, before he directed your gaze at his, dropping them before they landed on your knees.

“What you are feeling? Is okay. I promise.” His voice was soft and promising, words dripping in sugar as he began to drag his big, calloused palms up and down… up and down… your thighs soothingly through your pencil skirt.

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “Your boyfriend, not touching you, has nothing to do with you physically. You’re beautiful, I can promise you that.” You felt that warmth envelop you again from when he whispered in your ear. That deeep pull in your lower stomach that burned.

“In fact, I could even go as far as to say you’re very alluring. So small, soft, like a lamb.” Daringly, his hands slipped further up, now resting on your hips, like they were made to fit there.

He knew what he was doing. The dangerous look in his eyes swelling as he watched you slowly melt as his words sat in your skull.

“I’ll confess it now, I heard everything you said in the booth last week.” his voice was now a whisper, gentle like he would scare you off. He felt your body jolt like you’d run from him, and his hands held your hips tighter, holding you down onto the chair only slightly, like it was a suggestion that you should stay, his thumbs rubbing slow, soft circles into your stomach.

“I heard every word. Every cry. Every plea. Every prayer that this feeling could be relieved for you. You were so pretty coming out of the booth. Little tear droplets on your lashes and embarrassment all over your body. I knew you needed help.”

Mingi sank to his knees, so close to your body you could feel and smell every inch of him all over you. His hands moved up and gently cupped your face, guiding your head down so he could mumble in your ear.

He breathed quietly for a second before blowing a cold gust of air on your ear, making you shiver. “Let me help you, precious. Let's drag that feeling out. Let me drag it out of you.”

“If anyone can make you feel good in a way that’ll satiate the craving inside of you, it’s me. I can take care of you. Treat you like the angel you are. Does that sound good.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your hair, his hand mindlessly massaging your leg. “I promise.” He was whispering now, barely contained desire seeping from his gentle, coaxing words. “Don’t you trust me?”

Your brain was so fuzzy. Was this happening? Was he offering to take care of you in the way you’ve been crazy about? The one your boyfriend won’t give you. Maybe it’ll clear the nasty thoughts out of your head. Make the hysteria go away.

“Cmon baby…” He was all over you now, standing, towering over you as he leaned down, one hand on either side of your chair. You followed his gaze up and stared into his eyes. His rosary dangled right above your chest, almost touching it. It swung back and forth back and forth, hypnotically. His hand gripped the armrests tightly, like he was stopping himself from ripping you apart with his bare hands.

You looked so good, so delicious, so pure. He’d love to be the one to introduce you to the wonderfully sinful world of pleasure, to drown you in the feeling himself. To give himself to you.

“Let's get it out of your system, yeah? I can fix you, angel.”

Testing the waters, he leaned further down, his breaths mixing with yours, keeping you caged in, his eyes never leaving yours. It felt like you stayed like that forever. Lips millimeters from touching, tension in the air crackling.

You had never felt this way before. Your body ached, and your lower stomach throbbed with what could only be described as need.

All it took was the small, slight parting of your lips before Mingi finally pressed into you. His plushy lips sinking into yours like they were meant to be there. His eyes stayed on you, watching and guaging your reaction to the touch, only when your eyes fluttered close and you whined softly into his mouth did he really let himself go.

Pressing himself impossibly closer against you, his hands left the arm rests and threaded through your hair before gripping gently and completely swallowing you whole with his mouth. His tongue delved deep, tracing patterns in your mouth and moving against you in ways that had you groaning deep into him.

He swallowed your sounds gratefully, a loud crack of thunder nearly shaking the room. One candle blew out.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more of you. He needed to consume you. Even though it hurt, he pulled away from your mouth, panting softly as he watched the trail of saliva snap between you. He stared at your glassy eyes and pink lips, groaning to himself as he stood up and started to undo his tie.

“Alright, princess, I need you to take off your skirt and go lie on your back on that couch over there, okay? Can you do that for me?” Taking a second to break out of your stupor, you nodded and stood up, slipping the skirt and pantyhose off your legs before complying and lying on the couch. Mingi strode over, his tie gone and his shirt completely unbuttoned, a filthy, hungry look in his eyes. Rosary hanging proudly around his neck.

Gently, like he was still afraid to scare you. He laid between your legs on the couch. He planted his head directly between your thighs, his big hands slipping under your thighs and guiding them upward around his head, before spreading his big hand directly over your lower abdomen. His other hand slipped down and teased your soaking wet cunt through your panties.

Mingi stared into your eyes from between your legs and breathed in your scent deeply.

“You’re gonna taste so sweet fa me, aren't you angel?” Your head lolled at the sweet words, he just knew how to break you down and turn you into a puddle in his hands.

“All for me…” he mumbled completely to himself as he dragged your panties down your thighs and off your legs. He couldnt pull his eyes away from your pretty pussy. You felt so bare, so exposed, shying away, you tried to close your legs, but of course, his head was in the way.

“Don’t be ashamed, pretty girl.” He rubbed gentle circles on your thighs again before letting out a quick, quiet whistle. “Look at me, {Name}.”

Your head snapped to him, eyes locked with his, his gaze so intense you felt your eyes water, and a whimper bubbles up from your chest. He kisses your thighs softly, before hovering his mouth over your cunt, letting his breath fan over her gently.

“I want your eyes on me while I eat, okay? I need to see what you like, baby.” He’s going to read your body. You shivered and moaned softly at his words as you kept your eyes on him.

“Good. Keep those pretty eyes on me.” Slowly, tortorously slow, he brought his mouth down, licking a slow, wide strip up your cunt, kissing your clit at the end of its journey. The switch in Mingi was quick. Too quick. He became addicted immediately.

His eyes clouded over and buried his tongue inside of you, his nose grinding against your clit. You felt like you were going to die. It was so good. It felt so fucking good. You brought your hand up and bit your finger to keep yourself quiet. It felt so wrong. Doing something like this in a church, of all places. You felt judged and watched, but it felt like heaven. Mingi’s tongue felt like heaven.

“Yeah, yeah, that's it. Feeling good, pretty baby?” You nodded frantically, whimpering out broken “yes’s” and cries of his name. His hand snuck up and pulled your hand away from your mouth, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand, keeping a firm grip on them, holding them down in front of your tummy.

He groaned LOUD into your pussy, the vibrations reaching deep inside and making your back arch. He closed his eyes for a second, lost in the taste of you. “I have to hear you, don’t be shy.”

The knot in your stomach tightened, that familiar feeling from the nights you explored your body, but this time tenfold in strength. Mingi truly was drawing a kind of pleasure out of you that you’ve never felt before.

“Oh mmff… Min-! Feels good.” You whined, feeling that climax building deep in your gut.

“Oh, baby, I feel you. You bout to cum?” He smiled and latched onto your clit, sucking and slipping one long, slender finger deep in your snug cunt. You nod again, moans breaking when he curls his finger upward inside, pressing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself.

“Yeah.. yes yes yes..” You panted out, focusing on the feeling of Mingi all over you. He let out deep staccato moans around your clit before he slipped a second finger inside, coaxing inside even deeper.

“I’m gonna get you there, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you right through it and spread you on my cock. I'll have you seeing stars, baby, I promise.”

Before you could react he slipped his fingers out and moved up, caging you against the couch, in split second he removed your shirt and his pants, his cock, hot and heavy laid on your stomach as his hand came up and snaked behind the back of your head.

Pressing all his body weight down on you, he nudged your legs up to wrap around his waist.

His other hand slipped down and adjusted the fat head of his cock against the slick entrance of your pussy, before moving to hold your waist tighly, his thumb sinking and pressing hard against your stomach.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Such a good girl like you deserves to feel good, right?” Mingi’s lips came down and swallowed your whines again, increasingly desperate and sloppy like his tongue was trying to drag noises from deep in your throat.

“You deserve it.” He groans into your mouth, keeping his eyes on yours as he slowly, slowly sinks into your cunt.

Already you felt so full, tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, falling apart as his eyes stripped you down to your soul and his curved, thick cock splits you open. He bottoms out with a deep groan.

Your legs shake as his head sits snugly against your G-spot perfectly. He stays there for a moment, sinking his teeth into your plush bottom lip.

“Shh, yeah… that's it. So filthy. You feel how deep I am? So warm and so perfect.” Mingi rolled his hips into you, not quite thrusting, but he dragged his tip against that spot, and you came just like that, convulsing and whining into his mouth.

‘“Oh angel, you just came?” His whole body shivered at the amount of control he had over how good you felt. Like clay, he could shape and mold you to fit him perfectly. Make you his pretty little doll.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as he pulled himself out of you, dragging deliciously against your insides before thrusting back into you.

“Oh, you're so good. So good for me…” Ming sucked and licked dark purple marks into the flesh of your collarbones, drooling on your neck before leaving wet, open mouth kisses against the shell of your ear.

“You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you, pretty baby. So responsive. So easy to please.” Mingi words floated around in your empty brain as he fucked you deep, and heavy. Your moans and cries egged him on. He wanted more from you, he wanted you to come on his cock again.

“You’re gonna give me another one (Name). I’m gonna make you come on my cock again, okay baby?” Mingi took the rosary that was swinging in your face off and flipped you over so you were on your stomach now. Wrapping the chain around your wrists, he brought them down behind your back, bound tight.

His hand massaged from your neck, down your shoulders, along your back, and down to your hips. Without warning he slid his cock back inside of you, the new prone angle making your pussy suck him even deeper. He bends over, lips pressed directly against your ear, one hand around the back of your neck and the other snaked between your stomach and the couch, drawing slow, rough circles against your clit. He fucked you deep and hard, feeling him in your stomach.

“This is what heaven feels like, baby. Like it? I know you do, your voice and your wet cunt is telling me everything. Every dirty thought you’ve been having. I’m giving you what you need. I can always give you what you need…”

The knot was building again, the drag of him against your walls stretching you so perfectly, the feeling of his body overtaking yours.

“My dirty, dirty girl. Would you like me to take you out and fuck you stupid in the altar? All whiny and sensitive, I can breed you like an animal, would you like that?”

Grinding his hips into yours without mercy, Mingi relished in the feeling of you giving yourself up to him. He was obsessed with the way you twitched and squirmed, completely at his mercy.

He loved that he was the one to rip this abstinence away from you, drag you down further into sin.

“See, this isn’t so bad, no need to feel guilty about it baby, it feels good, nothing that feels this good— fffuckkk… could ever be so bad…”

Mingi must be right. It feels so good, it’s impossible for this to be so bad right?

You weren’t going to last much longer, and he could feel you clench around him as your impending orgasm was reaching its height. Mingi licked and bit all along your back, dragging his open mouth along the length of your shoulder blades. His hand continued to rub slow, pressured circles on your clit.

“Almost there sweet girl,” he murmured against your bruised skin, chasing his own high with your body.

“You sin so beautifully for me, you’re to tempting, as soon as I saw you I wanted to shove you back in that confessional and eat you out so good you’d beg me to stop. A sweaty overstimulated mess for me in a place meant for repentance.” He kept whispering in your ear, the deep rolls of his hips making your stomach feel like it was sinking.

“Ooh I wanna cum in you so badly. But that’d be so wrong of me. So bad..” Mingi’s hips began to stutter as he buried his face deep in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and lazily kissing every inch of your throat.

“Cum for me baby, it’s okay to feel good, feel good under me, feel good while I strip your purity from you, give it to me, let me have it. I want it please honey please..”

Who were you to ignore such sweet prayer to you as he worshipped your body, practically melting into your flesh and becoming one.

His arms came around and wrapped around your torso like you were a body pillow, locking his hands together around your arms and your chest, effectively caging you against him and the couch, you couldn’t budge if you tried. He held you in a vice like hold, so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

Your vision blacked, for just a second, as your orgasm came crashing down on you in STRONG periodic waves that felt like your insides were being battered, again and again and again and-

Mingi slowed his pace inside of you, opting for deep, deliberate rolls of his hips to move you through your orgasm, fuckinf his cum into you in the process.

His grip on your body turned softer, more like he was trying to hold you together rather than prevent you from moving. He ran his hands up and down your body so slowly and gently, like he was mapping you out and finding every curve, every mole or scar, every stretch mark and every sensitive spot.

“Yeah good girl. Let me fuck you through it mkay? Should I fuck you to sleep too huh? Would you like that pretty baby?” His voice was low and soft, his lips kissing along the top of your head, soothing and gentle. Your eyes lids fluttered at his softness, your cunt giving one last clench before you fully realized he had run you ragged.

Your body slumped under his own, face smushed in the pillow as you caught your breath. Mingi stood up and slipped on his pants, before gently turning you over on your back again. He pulled a pack of baby wipes out of his desk drawer and began gently cleaning between your thighs and all over your body.

His eyes followed trails of marks and bruises he left on you from his kisses and his grip on your flesh, a flash of possession hit his heart as you traced the dark marks on your neck and collar bone. “Did so good, love. Bet your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to have you praying for me like that huh?” He laughed to himself before reaching up and untying his rosary from your wrists.

He turned to the mirror and began putting it back on him. With his back turned you stared at the scratches on his back. He made you feel so good… and then it hit you.

Your boyfriend.

Your eyes widened and panic quietly began to set it. But before you could really process anything, Mingi turned back around, that stupid smile on his face as he gestures you to stand up.

“Come on lamb, we have to go visit the confessional.”

The puzzled look on your face formed and he laughed, almost condescendingly at your pitiful appearance.

He leaned down to your ear and gently bit the lobe, tugging with a low, quiet hum.

“You’ve got some sins to get off your chest.”

My fics always end up being like 7k something words it’s like my body knows when to stop, it’s like my ancestors being like “stop.. that’s enough…”

Thanks for reading :3

#mingi #mingi x reader #song mingi #ateez mingi #ateez smut #mingi smut #ateez x reader #ateez

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fakebwitch · 6 months ago

Text

mean nerdy!rafe helps reader with physics…

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

you played with your hands while walking along the corridor that would lead you to his dorm. you stopped recognizing the number of his room, you took a deep breath trying to relax yourself as you raised your hand, knocking two times on the wooden door. after a few seconds the door opened wide, your eyes met the figure of rafe, a white polo shirt with simple brown pants, his face decorated with a delicate pair of glasses. he gave you a small look before moving leaving you some space to enter, “come in”.

choosing rafe cameron as your tutor was one of the last things you would have wanted. you had tried to ask other students but everyone was busy with their sessions or they already had too many people to tutor for, and he was your last hope. he was a few years older than you and was fucking good at any scientific subject - math, physics, chemistry, biology - always getting the best grades, and this did nothing but increase his ego, exploiting his excellent knowledge as an excuse to be arrogant and presumptuous. your grades were really bad and failing in physics was certainly not among your plans, so you had to resort to his help.

you would never have thought that he would agree to give you private lessons, you thought that he would have much better things to do, like studying for the next sessions or maybe he already had someone else to whom he dedicated his time, instead he looked at you for a few seconds — maybe feeling your despair — and accepted, giving you an appointment for friday at 5 p.m. at his dorm.

you get inside, a strong smell of cigarette with a vanilla room perfumer flooded your nostrils. the room was quite tidy, very minimally furnished with few personal decorations — unlike yours— there was a small bookcase full of books, and not to mention his desk, covered with scribbled sheets, just as you had imagined it. he sat on one of the chairs fixing his hair, “sit” he said looking at you, you did as he said by sitting in front of him, placing your bag on the chair next to you.

“let’s just start” he said crossing his hands on the table, you nodded taking out your book with a small notebook, as well as a small pencil case. “what do you want to start with?” he asked you, his look stinging while waiting for your answer, you had never had a real conversation with him and being aware of his character you didn’t really know how to behave, you didn’t want to look stupid in his eyes. you opened the book showing him the topic you hadn’t understood, rafe gave it a little look without uttering a word, an imperceptible “mhm” was audible to you while he took his notes.

before you noticed it he began to explain, his words fluid and clear while he gestured lightly with his hands, his eyes fixed on yours sometimes fell on his notes or on your book showing you what he was referring to, not even the slightest difficulty transpired from his speeches, as if he was talking about a banal topic that did not include the most complicated formulas and most absurd meanings. holding his gaze was difficult for you, having to focus your attention on something other than his sharp blue eyes. no matter how much you got lost in the details of his face and how he seemed so involved in what he was explaining to you you could not afford distractions, you had to listen and you had to understand above all what he was saying, or you would not have solved anything.

he stopped leaning his back on the back of the chair, the biceps muscle contracted as he scratched the back of his neck, “got it?” it was all he said, his tone almost arrogant as if not understanding what he said was stupid. “yeah” you nodded placing the pen on the table, on the sheet of your notebook some small sentences were visible concerning some important formulas or terminologies.

“we need to make a little practice” he said taking your book in his hands, flipping through the pages in search of some exercise to put into practice what he explained. the room felt suffocatingly quiet, his presence was intimidating, his sharp gaze like a dagger that kept you on edge.

“let’s try this problem” he said, sliding the book across the table toward you. his hand brushed yours briefly, and you felt a jolt shoot up your arm. it was ridiculous how much his touch affected you, how even his scent—a mix of clean cologne and the faint, lingering cigarette smoke—was making your head spin. “okay” you murmured, trying to focus on the equation scribbled on the paper. but your mind was anything but clear. you picked up the pen, feeling his eyes on you, watching every move you made as if you were under a microscope. he got up from his seat, your breath hitched as you heard his slow step approaching you. you tried to shake it off, focusing your attention to what you should’ve solved, but then he stopped right behind you, you could feel his presence towering you, his scents even more clear now that he was so close to you.

“you’re doing it wrong” he said, leaning closer. his voice was low and curt, but not cruel. he reached out, his large hand covering yours as he guided your pen across the page. his touch was firm, his skin warm, and you found yourself holding your breath as he pressed against your back. “there. that’s how you set it up” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. his breath ghosted across your cheek, and you couldn’t help but turn slightly, catching the edge of his jawline and the curve of his lips in your peripheral vision. he was so close you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes when he glanced at you.

“are you even paying attention?” his words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, heat flooding your cheeks. “y-yeah, I’m paying attention” you stammered, though your voice betrayed you.

rafe smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “doesn’t look like it.” he sat on the chair next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something about his expression—arrogant, almost predatory—that made your stomach flutter in the most inconvenient way.

“i said I’m paying attention” you repeated, your voice a little firmer this time, your eyes never leaving his. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered you were.

“hmm” he hummed, tilting his head as if he were trying to figure you out. “prove it. solve the next one on your own.” he slid another sheet toward you, his fingers lingering on the edge of the paper. “let’s see if you actually learned anything.” his voice provocative, almost amused by the situation, as if he knew the kind of effect he was having on you. you did your best to hold back, the words threatened to come out of your mouth but you swallowed them; being given private lessons by the best student was certainly not something that happened to everyone, and you could not afford to lose this privilege just to retort his stupid provocations.

you picked up the pen, determined to prove him wrong, even if your heart was pounding like a drum. the numbers and formulas blurred in front of you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, the heat of his body still lingering near yours. you tried your best, but you didn’t even have the slightest idea of where to start. minutes passed, and each seconds you became more discouraged, his gaze fixed on you almost judging you and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “of course you can’t.” he stood up, moving behind you. you felt your chair shift as he placed his hands on the backrest, leaning over your shoulder to look at your work. his voice was close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “let me show you again.” you froze as his hands settled lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing against the base of your neck. it felt too intimate, too intentional, but he didn’t seem fazed. instead, he leaned closer, his chest just barely grazing your back as he reached for the notebook.

“this is where you keep screwing up” he murmured, his tone low and deliberate. “you’re overthinking it.” his hands squeezed your shoulders lightly before one slid down your arm, guiding your hand to pick up the pen again.

you could barely focus on what he was saying. every nerve in your body was hyperaware of his touch, the heat radiating off him as he stayed impossibly close. you managed to scrawl out the equation under his guidance, but your mind was a mess, the numbers meaningless.

when he finally pulled back, his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “see? wasn’t so hard.” your breath hitched, and you turned to look at him, your faces dangerously close. his smirk widened, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. the air between you felt heavy, charged.

“rafe—” you started, but your words faltered when he leaned in, his hand brushing your jaw as he tilted your face up. “relax” he said, his voice a mix of command and tease. “you’re way too tense” his thumb grazed your cheek, and before you could think, his lips were on yours—soft but insistent, a mixture of dominance and curiosity.

you were shocked by his gesture, it took you a few seconds to actually realize that his lips were on yours, and that he was kissing you. your hands tightened around his face pushing him towards you, the kiss quickly became more intense, both fighting for dominance.

rafe pulled away from the kiss trying to catch his breath, but was taken by surprise by your lips again on his, eager to taste his soft lips again. one of your hands went down his chest, pushing him so that he was sitting on the chair next to yours, and in a quick movement you sat on his lap. rafe didn’t utter a word, leaving you free to do whatever you wanted; he couldn’t hide his amusement in seeing you so eager, taking the lead.

his hand tightened around your chin, moving you away from his lips. his intense eyes stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, admiring the way you seemed so desperate after just one kiss, your lips flushed and your hair already messy, your eyes stared at him with a burning desire that you could no longer hide.

“so eager are we?” he was teasing you, a faint laugh left his lips. you tried to speak but his hand was too tight and you knew that if you opened your mouth nothing sensible would come out, he would only have made fun of you. he let go of the grip on your chin, letting it wrap more gently under the jaw, angled your face while his lips approached your cheek, placing a sloppled kiss right under your ear. you bit your lip closing your eyes while his kisses followed the line of your jaw, slowly going down towards your neck. for sure that bastard knew how to use his lips.

his lips moved skillfully against your neck, sucking and wetting the skin. unknowingly your hips began to move against his lap, looking for a desperate clutch with his bulge, your pussy almost praying to be touched. his free hand tightened around your waist stopping your movements, his lips let go of your neck bringing his gaze back to you. “didn’t know you were so needy” he said lowly almost as if he was talking to himself, his cock semi hard in his pants and he could feel through the thin material of your panties a wet spot.

"you were the one who kissed me first," you replied, raising an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly smirk. you weren't lying-it had been him. he kissed you first, set everything into motion, and now here you were, the one craving more, so typical of him.

his gaze darkened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "and you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, pushing me back so you could grind on my dick" his voice was low, dripping with heat, each word sinking into you. “just a consequence of your gestures” you said shrugging your shoulders, rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your answer.

“i think we should do less talking” he said in a whisper, resting his lips on yours, this time he didn’t stop you, letting you rub yourself on his bulge, earning you little whinings from him. his hand tightened around your breasts, squeezing it between his hand, you weren’t wearing a bra so it was easy for him to feel your hard nipple and squeeze it between his fingers through the material of the shirt, earning a small gasp from you.

“you want this?” he asked you, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough. but he needed to hear you say it, just to boost his ego even more. his hand made space under your skirt, playing with your panties. “yes” you answered without hesitation, the need between your legs growing more and more. his thumb gently brushed your clit, moving in a circular way, the contact sent a shiver all over your back and you couldn’t help but let out a little whine at the slightest pleasure he was making you feel.

“stop teasing” you ordered him in a firm voice, your hands clenched around his shoulders in search of support. “as you prefer” he replied in a moking tone, a grin on his face. without wasting more time with two fingers he moved the material to the side, with two fingers he collected all your wetness. he started teasing your clit again with his thumb, this time, however, he pushed two of his fingers inside you, a big gasp left your lips to the sudden intrusion. his fingers moved quickly and with experts inside you, touching all the spots that made you shudder, as if he knew you for years and knew by heart how to make you melt.

your head fell back completely overwhelmed by pleasure, small and continuous moans kept coming out of your mouth, unable to contain you. rafe loved how responsive you were, your moans were like a sweet song to his ears and he couldn’t help it, he angled his fingers inside you, his pace getting faster and faster making you continue with your melody. “love your pretty sounds” he said, his eyes completely fixed on you while his hands worked on you like no one had ever done, “fuck... just like this” you incited him, your voice choked completely out of breath, your hips moved slightly, riding his fingers.

you could still feel his hard cock against the soft skin of your thigh, and for the pleasure he was making you feel you couldn’t help but reciprocate. you brought your hands to his belt, unbuttoning it quickly, you unbuttoned his pants and with your fingers you tightened the zipper pushing it all the way down with a quick movement. you stopped for a few seconds, your legs trembled while rafe continued to hit your spongy spot. you continued your work by pulling out his cock, his pink and swollen tip practically screaming to be taken care of, he was long and thick. lke a magnet your hand tightened around it, your thumb rubbed on the fluffy skin of his tip.

“g-goddamn...” his head fell back, a spit fell from your mouth ending directly on his tip, using your fingers you spread it along the entire length, quickly working the hand around him. his expression was simply fantastic, his face corrugated, his eyebrows sulked while his mouth emitted small pathetic whimpers. despite this his fingers continued to abuse your little wet hole, his free hand tightened tightly around your thigh, his fingers dug into the soft skin leaving a mark.

“f-fuck” his voice completely broken as he continued to moan your name, your walls tightened around his fingers at the sight below you. you could not explain what you were feeling, in seeing a presumptuous, unpleasant, proud guy like him completely wrapped around fingers, a mess of moans and whines, bringing yourself closer and closer to the orgasm.

slimy sounds filled the room, coming from both of you. you tightened your hand around his tip, focusing on it again, having realized how sensitive he was. “h-holy shiiit baby” a broken moan came out of his mouth and you could feel his legs shaking under you, he was close.

and you were too.

he could feel it, from how your moans were more persistent and how your pussy was clenching around him, almost trapping his fingers. “as much as I love you pretty hand around me, i fucking need to be inside you” and so he took out his fingers, your hole clenched around nothing as you felt your stomach squirm for the orgasm just denied. your hand around his cock stopped,you watched him with a pout, even if you knew that in a few seconds you would finally have his cock inside you.

“you better make it worth” you provoked him. you knew he would fall into your trap, “oh don’t worry angel... you know I’ve got you.” and before you could realize his cock slung inside you, his length made space inside you while his thickness widened your walls. rafe let out a choked moan at the sensation of your warm walls, which welcomed him inside him. “feels soo good around me... so fucking tight” he praised you, his hand was around the flesh of your ass, holding it in his hands.

without giving you a any time to get used to him, he began to push himself hard inside you, his tip hit in no time your cervix. he helped you take off the shirt you were wearing, throwing it somewhere in the room. his hand immediately tightened around your breasts, squeezing it. he gave you an hard slap on the ass as his hot mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking it and biting it lightly. you wrapped your hands in his hair, pushing him closer to your chest, completely ruining his carefully done hairstyle.

you don’t know what happened to you, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards so that his back was against the back of the chair, you dug your nails into his skin while you crossed his gaze — confused but intrigued by your sudden gesture of dominance — his cock stopped inside you. you began to ride him, your hips moved quickly as a hand of rafe came down to stop firmly on your waist, his glasses completely fogged. “shit rafe... feels so good inside me” you said with a big moan, his big cock sank into your hot and wet pussy. you lowered your face meeting his lips, the kiss was completely messy, your tongues quickly collided with each other, the salivas mixed together as well as your cum inside you.

“look so beautiful like this... riding me so fucking good” he said with clenched teeth, another hard slap on your ass. “i’m cumming” you said immediately after hearing his words, you could feel the weight in your stomach grow. rafe’s hips met your thrusts, while his hand went down, the index and middle finger moved quickly in a circular way on your clit, leading you to high.

with a big moan you finally reached your climax, your movements slowed down abruptly, your legs trembled at the intense pleasure achieved, and if it hadn’t been for his hands tight around your body you were sure that you would have already fallen. “fuuck” your pussy tightened around his cock, releasing your cum that was covering his tip inside you.

“that’s it baby, took me so well... f-fuck gonna cum” his voice hoarse as he used his last forces to push himself inside you, trying to reach his orgasm. it took you a few seconds to recover from the insane orgasm you had just had, despite the sense of overstimulation you moved your hips slowly, meeting his thrusts. “shit... here we go” when he feel he’s reached the limit he pulled out, he squeezed a hand around his length moving it quickly up and down, with a few pumps splashes of his cum finally fell on your lower stomach.

“thaaat’s it” his words dragged as he fully enjoyed the sensation, his hand tight around the tip not wanting to waste even a drop. without thinking twice you brought two fingers along your stomach, collecting his cum and then bringing your fingers to your mouth, savoring its flavor.

he didn’t say anything, but his gestures spoke clearly. he approached to give you one last intense kiss, savoring himself on your tongue, his hand gave a last slap to your ass before finally detaching from your lips, “we have to continue studying” he said, suddenly returning seriously. he lifted you slightly so that you were sitting on the chair next to him.

he got up from his chair, adjusting his pants and polo while sitting in front of you. “alright, let’s get back to work,” he said, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened. but the way his gaze lingered on you told a different story.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #x reader #smut #rafe cameron story #rafe cameron x fem!reader #x fem!reader

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witherby · 6 months ago

Note

More mermaid please! Pretty please! With sprinkles on top!

With sprinkles? Can't say no to that, can I 😏🍦

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader, part 5

The previous part is Here!

The locks to the tank entrance have changed. When Damian tries his key, it doesn't turn, which nearly takes him to his knees. His fists clench, the flesh of his palms soon littered with crescent moon indentations, and he storms away from the gate to your enclosure.

He's been separated from you for two weeks and it's taken a toll on you both. You were sedated too heavily from your tank escape to perform the next day, so your exhibit was closed, but when you were aware enough you absolutely refused to come out from your castle spire.

Clark, the on-staff physician in charge of general animal welfare at the aquarium, is unable to treat your scrapes and other wounds from beaching yourself. Getting too close to you ended in him rushing out with gashes in his arm and cheek, bloodied from your razor-sharp talons. He promises Damian he doesn't hold it against you, knowing how much you adored the youngest Wayne and how big of an upset his absence caused.

Your new primary handler was trying his damndest to bond with you, but the first time you surfaced to the top of your tank and didn't see Damian, you shrieked and splashed him, then refused to come up again even for your feedings. They've had to resort to dumping the food into the water for you to fetch instead, and even still you barely pick at it.

Bruce can't get anywhere near you. When you catch sight of him, you bellow and try to breach the tank to hurt him. Damian doesn't feel particularly upset by this when he's told about it.

You only show yourself when Damian leads tours through your part of the Aquarium, pacing around the tunnels and dragging your claws against the glass, otherwise you are never seen. Concerned customers ask about your missing scales and why you seem so desperate to get to him, but he can't do anything except grit his teeth and give them the pre-approved answers per his script.

You're also starting to exhibit depressive symptoms: aimless spinning through the water when you leave your castle spire, discoloration in your tail and fins, lack of appetite, and large bouts of lethargy are the biggest signs.

To put it simply — you miss Damian so much the stress is hurting you. If there's no serious turnaround soon, it's going to turn into a medical crisis.

Damian waltzes into Bruce's office without fanfare. The older man doesn't look surprised to see him, just holds up a finger and continues speaking into the phone on his desk.

"Yes, that's fine. Let me know when you can send both down here to look at them. Alright. You too. Goodbye."

He puts the receiver down and heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples.

"Yes, Damian?"

"I want to see them."

"No, Damian."

"They're suffering, father!" He snaps, arm cast wide. "Visitors aren't buying the excuse that they're getting over some bad Tail Rot. They won't play or engage with the new handler. They're not eating! Let me see them!"

"That's being taken care of." Bruce stands up from the desk and walks around it to address Damian face to face, arms crossed. "I just got off the phone with a veterinary clinic that specializes in Mer care. They're sending a behavioralist and doctor to come examine them properly in the morning, and help us make a care plan to get them healthy and properly readjusted."

He leans down a little to emphasize his point, gaze imploring.

"They're going to be okay, Damian. I need you to trust me when I say that this separation is what's best for you."

"It doesn't feel that way," Damian scowls. "It feels like we broke their trust by taking away someone that's supposed to care for them, and now they're justifiably lashing out. This was a reckless move, even for you, father, and now our mer has to suffer the consequences."

Bruce sighs. "Tadpole —"

"No!" The boy whirls around and jams a finger into his father's chest, relishing in the wince. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to talk about how wonderful Gotham Aquarium is to me, offer me a job here when I turn 18, let me finally do something that brings me joy and then rip it away while you give me useless platitudes and childish nicknames! I've had enough!"

"Damian —" Bruce tries again, a note of warning in his tone.

"Spare your breath. If you won't let me check up on the mer then we have no more business here." Damian turns, fists clenched, and marches out of the office and down the hall. His father calls out for him but doesn't chase after.

Good.

He only keeps up the angry act until he enters the employee locker rooms, then opens his fist to stare down at the key he swiped from Bruce's pocket during their confrontation, and smirks.

"Don't worry," he whispers, pulling out his wetsuit, "I'm coming."

#damian wayne x reader #mermaid au #batfam x reader #damian wayne #damian x reader

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kngrose · 7 months ago

Note

Could you do yandere head cannons for Caitlyn from arcane?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

includes caitlyn jayce victor vander

WARNINGS: implied stalking, implied drugging, infantilization, coercion, general unhealthy behaviors

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : decided to pair these guys up because there was sooooo many requests for them! ^^

caitlyn protective type

She wasn’t always this way. It was an accident that caused something in her to change. The bullet had just barely grazed her, a close call, but one that made her realize just how fragile everything could be. It wasn't the pain that lingered in her body, but the sense of terror that gripped her heart when she thought she might never see you again. What if it were you instead– what if the bullet didn’t just graze you? What if it went through you instead?

She was already drawn to you, but after that brush with death, Caitlyn’s feelings became something she couldn’t ignore anymore. The idea of losing you—someone who had become her rock—became a constant, gnawing presence in her mind. She had survived countless dangers before, but the thought of you slipping away was far worse.

It wasn’t long before Caitlyn started showing up more often. She would check in on you regularly, whether you were in the office or just at home, her presence now a familiar yet unspoken thing. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright," she’d say, though you couldn’t recall ever needing to be checked on. At first, it seemed like genuine concern, but soon, you began to notice how her eyes would linger just a little too long, and how her posture seemed tense when you weren’t near.

Her love, while seemingly genuine, would feel smothering at times, as if she can’t let you out of her sight for too long. She might start showing up unexpectedly, always with an excuse, but slowly turning up at your most inconvenient times. Caitlyn might resort to more extreme measures. She might manipulate situations to make you think you're in danger or that you can only trust her. She’d plant lies, create paranoia, and twist things so you decide to seclude yourself more.

Caitlyn can’t just simply be a part of your life—she’d want to control it. She would subtly start dictating where you go and, who you interact with. You’d feel like you have no room to breathe without her approval.

The near-death experience had cracked something inside of her. Caitlyn needed reassurance—not just that you were safe, but that you weren’t going anywhere. She began to ask, almost obsessively, if you were sure you were happy with her, if she was doing enough for you, if you felt as though you were being properly protected. Her doubts about her own ability to protect you made her needier, more insistent on showing that she could keep you safe from the chaos that threatened your world.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” You’d awoken in the middle of the night to her staring down at you in the dark bedroom. It was weird— had she been watching you sleep? Her voice was soft but heavy with something unspoken. The question hung in the air, and you could see the hint of panic in her eyes. She had always been so composed, so controlled, but this new Caitlyn—this Caitlyn who had almost lost you—was breaking down those walls.

Her jealousy would flare when she saw you interacting with others, especially anyone who showed a hint of interest in you. Caitlyn couldn’t help it. Her need to keep you safe extended to wanting to keep others away, ensuring that no one else would get too close to you. Her envy would manifest in small ways—like an extra long hug when you returned to her side, a slightly tighter grip on your hand in public. When someone else laughed with you, Caitlyn would withdraw slightly, her smile turning into something forced. “Don’t get too close to them,” she’d murmur later when you were alone, her tone carrying a mix of fear and a protective sharpness. It was as though her love for you had warped into something far darker.

She’d say things like, “You don’t need to do anything without me. I’m here to help you,” and you’d find it difficult to refuse, because behind her words was a certain pleading—an unspoken desperation for you not to pull away from her.

Her emotional dependence on you grew stronger with each passing day. Caitlyn would assure you that she wasn’t trying to control you, but her actions spoke otherwise. She couldn’t stand the idea of you slipping away from her, of you finding comfort in anyone else. You were hers to protect, and no one would ever take you from her.

On the flip side, Caitlyn's loyalty would be unwavering. If you ever found yourself in danger or in need of help, she’d stop at nothing to make sure you were okay, even if it meant making dangerous choices or going against her moral compass. In her mind, you're hers, and she'll do anything to keep you safe, even if it’s at the expense of others.

The first time she almost lost you, Caitlyn had been ready to tear the world apart to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. Now, her obsession had grown to the point where it wasn’t about safety anymore—it was about ownership. You had become her entire world, the one thing that mattered above all else.

The question was no longer how could she keep you safe. It became how could she keep you with her? She couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping through her fingers.

“Promise me you won’t leave me,” she whispered one night, her hand trembling slightly as she held you. Her eyes searched your face, looking for something that would assure her, reassure her, make her believe that you wouldn’t leave her alone in a world that felt far too dangerous without you.

You could see the vulnerability in her gaze, the fear, and the obsession lurking just beneath the surface. Caitlyn had changed. Her love for you had become a tether, a need, a consuming thing that had overtaken every part of her. And now, she needed to make sure you would never walk away.

It wasn’t just about love anymore. It was about control. It was about keeping you close, locked in her world, never letting go.

jayce fixating type

After the breakup, Jayce’s world shattered in a way he had never anticipated. For so long, he had been consumed by his work, his passion for Hextech and its potential to change the world, that he hadn’t noticed the growing distance between him and the one person who had once been his emotional anchor. His heart had been so tied to his inventions, to the pursuit of progress, that he never imagined he could lose the one thing that mattered to him more than anything—her.

When you broke up with him, it felt like the ground beneath his feet had crumbled away. The calm, steady hand that had always guided him through his struggles was suddenly gone. He tried to reason with you at first, to explain that Hextech was not just a project, but a vision—a chance to make the world a better place. But as your eyes turned away from him, he began to realize that it wasn’t just about the work. It was about him. And his focus, his obsession with Hextech, had taken him so far away from you that he had lost sight of what truly mattered.

That realization consumed him. In his mind, he couldn’t accept it—couldn’t accept the idea that it was his own blindness to your needs that had driven you away. He had never truly seen it before, but now that it was gone, he saw it everywhere: your absence, the way his lab felt colder, how every success in his work now felt hollow without you by his side. The weight of your rejection clung to him like a shadow.

And so began his obsession.

Jayce’s need to fix things started as an impulse—a desperate attempt to prove he could balance both the future of Hextech and the future with you. But as days turned to weeks and you remained distant, his obsession grew darker. He started showing up at your door, uninvited, his gaze intense, almost pleading. He would try to convince you that things could be different—that he could change, that he could be there for you. But in truth, it wasn’t about change. It wasn’t about improving himself. It was about keeping you close, where he could protect you, where he could ensure that you never left again.

Jayce had always been a man of intellect, but now, logic and reason had abandoned him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of you being free from him, of you moving on. The thought made him sick, twisting in his gut. He began to manipulate your conversations, pushing boundaries, trying to create situations where you would need him, where you would have no choice but to return. He would remind you of all the moments you had shared, the promises he had made to you, all the things that had once made you believe in him. But none of this was genuine anymore—none of it was the person he used to be. He was no longer trying to rebuild a relationship. Now, he was trying to reclaim you, no matter the cost.

The obsession deepened. He began showing up at places he knew you'd be, lingering in the background, watching you as you went about your life without him. If he couldn’t keep you at his side through words, he would make sure you couldn’t escape through actions. In the quiet moments, Jayce’s mind would race, imagining the worst—what if you found someone else? What if you grew stronger without him? What if, one day, you were truly gone?

His need to keep you close became all-consuming. Jayce started to twist the very things he loved about you into weapons for his obsession. He’d tell himself he was doing this for you, for the future of both of you. He’d tell himself that he wasn’t controlling, that he was just keeping you safe from the world outside. But deep down, he knew the truth. He was terrified. Terrified of losing you. Terrified that his obsession had driven you to a place where the only thing left was distance, and that distance was now a gulf he couldn’t cross.

Jayce had always been a man of vision, but now that vision had warped. He couldn’t see a future without you, and he couldn’t accept the possibility that you had chosen a life without him. His desire to protect, to build a better world, had been replaced by a singular focus—keeping you from slipping away. And with every attempt, every plea, he could feel his grip on you tightening. But what he didn’t realize was that the more he pulled you in, the more he suffocated what little remained of the love you once shared.

In his obsession, Jayce had lost sight of the one thing that could have healed them both: the space to breathe, to be free, to make choices. Instead, he was creating a prison of his own design, and with every day that passed, he was sealing both of your fates in it.

victor savior type

Victor had always been driven by the idea of progress. From the moment he first set foot in Piltover, he had envisioned a future where technology and science could heal the broken, the sick, and the flawed. His dreams were grand—of perfecting the human body, of eradicating weakness and suffering. But after his experiences in the Arcane, that ideal evolved. It wasn’t just about saving others anymore. It became about creating something that could be truly perfect—and, somewhere along the way, you became the focus of that vision.

At first, Victor admired you from afar, intrigued by your brilliance and passion. You were like him—a seeker of knowledge, a person striving for something more. But it wasn’t long before he began to notice the small things about you, things that most people wouldn’t see. The subtle hesitation when you looked at your reflection, the way you seemed to fight against something within yourself that you couldn’t escape. It was there in your eyes, in your posture—this quiet dissatisfaction with who you were. Victor saw it as weakness. A flaw. Something that could be fixed.

In the beginning, it was just a passing thought. A small seed planted in the back of his mind: “What if I could help them?” But as the days passed, that seed grew. Every interaction you had with Victor became tinged with this idea, this possibility that he could take you, just as he had taken his own body and reshaped it, and bring you to a higher form of existence—his vision of perfection.

He became obsessed, not with curing illness or repairing his own mechanical body, but with fixing you. Every glance, every word you spoke, was studied carefully. He began to analyze you, to understand what made you unhappy, what flaws you perceived in yourself. He noticed how you would sigh when looking at your reflection or how you’d become withdrawn after difficult interactions.

And, somewhere deep inside, Victor felt a rush of excitement. I could fix this, he thought. I could make them perfect.

Victor began to put his plans into motion. At first, it was subtle—small changes. He'd offer you assistance, claiming it was for your benefit, your health. Perhaps it was a supplement to help with fatigue, a mechanical adjustment here and there, things that would seem innocuous. But all the while, he was slipping things into your life, gently guiding you toward the idea that something needed to change—something big. He began talking more about his own work, his experiments with biomechanical evolution, how he had perfected his own body through the use of Hextech technology, how he had become better. He spoke of it with such enthusiasm, such conviction, that you couldn’t help but listen.

And you began to listen more closely, to wonder if he was right. Could you truly evolve into something better? Could you become free of the insecurities that haunted you? Victor’s words were so convincing, so filled with promise, that the idea began to take root. But even as you were drawn deeper into his world, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. His gaze lingered too long, his smile a little too knowing, as if he saw something in you that you didn’t see yourself.

Victor was careful, patient. He needed you to want it, to believe in the perfection he promised, because that was the only way his plans could truly succeed. He began to subtly manipulate your environment, ensuring that you’d be isolated from others, making it more difficult to question his intentions. You would be so wrapped up in his ideas of progress, his vision of perfection, that you wouldn’t even think to resist.

His words became more frequent, more insistent. He’d talk about the benefits of his work, of how it could be applied to you, how much better you could be with his guidance. You’d hear him speak of the “improvements” he could make—subtle at first, but gradually escalating. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself considering the idea, wondering if it could really work.

But in Victor’s mind, this wasn’t just about improving you. It was about making you into something that could never reject him again. Something perfect. You’d be his greatest creation—your flaws erased, your body transformed, your mind reshaped. In his mind, he was offering you salvation, even as he slowly ensnared you in his vision. You wouldn’t have a choice in the matter; the idea of perfection, of becoming whole, would consume you entirely. And when the time came, he would reveal his true intentions.

There would be no turning back.

Victor’s obsession grew with every passing day. He watched you carefully, analyzing how you reacted to his suggestions. Every word he spoke was another piece of the puzzle, another step toward his goal. He was a patient man, and he would wait until the perfect moment arrived, when you were so entangled in his vision that you would beg him to make you perfect.

By then, it would be too late to stop him. His arcane technology would transform you, reshape you, into something that could never reject him again. And once you were his creation, the perfect version of yourself, you would belong to him—body, mind, and soul.

vander infantilizing type

Vander was always a protector. He’d spent his life making sure the people of Zaun, especially those close to him, stayed safe from the dangers that loomed over the Undercity. To him, protection was everything—his family, his crew, and you, the person he cherished most in his heart. But over time, something shifted in his mind, a shift so gradual that neither of you noticed it at first.

It started with small acts of kindness. When you were out, Vander would show up unexpectedly, insisting on walking you home, even if it was just down the block. “Zaun can be unpredictable,” he’d say with a smile. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” It seemed harmless at first, but there was a subtle urgency in his words, a note of unspoken control hidden beneath his seemingly loving gestures. He never directly told you what to do, but you began to feel his presence more and more, often when you least expected it.

At first, it was innocent. He would casually ask about your day, making sure you were staying out of trouble, always with a smile and a reassuring hand on your shoulder. But then the questions became more frequent. “Where were you?” “Who were you with?” “Did you get home okay?” He never seemed satisfied with a simple “I’m fine,” needing the specifics of every encounter, every moment you spent away from him.

Vander never outright said he didn’t trust you, but the way he’d check in felt more like a constant inspection, as though he had to make sure you were always on the right path. He would often show up at places you didn’t expect him to be, seemingly out of nowhere, with that protective smile of his. It wasn’t out of malice, but of love, or so he told himself. The idea that you might stray from his care, even accidentally, made him uneasy.

Vander had always treated you like an equal, someone who could handle themselves in this chaotic world. But slowly, as his protective instinct overpowered his rational thinking, he began to take over more of your responsibilities. At first, it was small things—offering to take care of errands or tasks you could easily do yourself. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he’d say, brushing it off as no trouble at all. You were busy, after all, and Vander was happy to lighten your load.

But as time went on, the things he took over grew bigger—decisions about your personal life, where you went, what you did. “I don’t think you should be hanging around them,” he’d say, and suddenly your plans for the evening were altered without so much as a thought. At first, you were grateful for his care, thinking it was just his way of protecting you. You didn’t realize that it wasn’t about care at all—it was about removing your ability to make your own choices, piece by piece, until you weren’t sure where his influence ended and your own will began.

You had always been capable of making your own decisions. But gradually, Vander began offering advice with a weight that felt more like instruction. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go there today. I heard things aren’t safe around that part of town. You’d be better off staying in.” His words weren’t demanding, but they carried a subtle pressure. The more you heard his concerns, the more you started to question your own decisions, second-guessing yourself.

Soon, you found yourself deferring to him more often. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do things your way, but the more he guided you, the more you felt that maybe he was right. That maybe he knew better. His opinions began to overshadow your own, and with each piece of advice, his grip on your autonomy tightened without either of you realizing it.

Vander never directly tried to pull you away from your friends or your life outside of him, but little by little, he began to discourage it. “You know, they don’t always have your best interests at heart,” he’d say with a concerned look when you mentioned spending time with someone else. He’d never speak ill of your friends outright, but his warnings always lingered in your mind.

You began to notice that you didn’t hang out with your friends as much anymore. His presence seemed to always loom, and when you tried to make plans without him, you felt guilty. His protective smile would reappear whenever you suggested a solo outing, and he’d suddenly have a reason why you shouldn’t go. “I just think it’s better if you stick with me for now. Just to be safe.”

Over time, the lines between his care and his control became blurred. You started to spend more time with him, less with others, and you began to depend on him more than you realized.

Vander’s concern turned into something more infantilizing. He would no longer treat you as an equal, but as someone who needed constant guidance. Every decision you made seemed to be followed by him taking over or offering advice that bordered on patronizing.

“You’ve been through a lot today, you should rest. I’ll take care of things,” he’d say, trying to get you to step back from your own responsibilities. He’d make you feel like you didn’t need to handle things on your own, and that, in itself, became his way of asserting control. You began to rely on him more and more for even the smallest of tasks, from taking care of your finances to managing your relationships with others.

He would smile and say, “I’m just looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about these things, I’m here to handle them for you.” At first, it seemed like an act of kindness, but over time, it felt like your independence was slipping away. Your world became smaller, controlled by the boundaries he’d created, and you found yourself feeling like a child, helpless to make decisions without his approval.

Vander’s control was insidious. His intentions were good—he wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harsh world of Zaun—but in doing so, he lost sight of the balance between care and domination. His protection slowly became a cage, and what was once a bond built on mutual respect began to feel more like an overbearing relationship.

“You know I’m only doing this because I love you, right?” he would say, when the tension between the two of you grew. His eyes, full of affection and pride, would hold you in place, as if to remind you that he was the one who knew best. He wanted to protect you, but in his mind, protecting you meant controlling your life, even if you didn’t see it at first.

The more he infantilized you, the more he believed he was doing what was best. After all, he was the one who had been through it all, the one who understood the world better than you ever could. And you, in turn, began to wonder if he might be right, and you started to lose sight of who you were before he came into your life.

Vander had built a world around you—one where you needed him, one where you couldn’t escape. And you began to wonder: had you been protected… or trapped?

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#caitlyn kiramman #jayce #victor #vander #caitlyn arcane #jayce arcane #victor arcane #vander arcane #caitlyn x reader #jayce x reader #victor x reader #vander x reader #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane headcanon #league of legends #yandere #ao3 #mother speaks

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