#WAIT THAT’S THE PERFECT WAY I FEEL. I FEEL LIKE: <:]< /div>
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Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices (Pt. 4)
"SOS MC"
That was the message Babs had received from Tim fifteen minutes ago.
Steph didn't have all the codes memorized, there were a truly ridiculous number of them, but she did know that one.
"SOS: Mind Control"
For once, Steph found herself longing for one of the complex, overly-specific codes, because what did that mean?!
Was it Tim being mind controlled? Civilians? An ally? What were they being mind controlled to do? Was it magic? Aliens? Tech?
There were way too many possibilities, none of them were good, and Steph suddenly felt almost-bad for every time she'd run off without a word and nearly given Tim a heart attack.
"Spoiler? Do you copy?"
"Yeah, O," Steph panted, "Almost there."
The warehouse- and of course it was a warehouse- where Tim's tracker had last pinged was coming into view, and Steph was not slowing down. Tim hardly pinged for help, ever. He wasn't as bad about it as some of the other Bats, but still—
"Spoiler," Barbara began slowly, as if knowing she were entering a losing battle, "When you get there, do not engage. Wait for backup. Nightwing and Batman—"
"Nope," Steph answered easily as she swept toward the conveniently-open window. Depending on what kind of danger Tim was in, they might not have time to wait for backup.
She swung in easily, landing in almost perfect silence on the concrete floor. The shadows covered her entrance, clinging to the walls like mold. The air was stagnant and chilled, like a morgue, but something about it itched at her nose. Even Babs was oddly soundless over the comms.
The room was empty. Not even standard Gotham warehouse empty, the kind with rusty shelves and cardboard boxes full of nothing, but completely empty. Only Steph and the dust occupying the space. She felt the pit in her stomach grow deeper.
Tim wasn't here, and that meant he'd been moved to a secondary location. His chances of survival dropped dramatically.
Steph grit her teeth and rose to her full height, squinting across the barren room. There had to be some sort of clue here– and she was going to find it.
— — —
"B, N, you're going to want to hurry up. Spoiler just went in by herself, and there's some kind of interference on the comms." Oracle's voice kept mostly even, but there was a firmness indicative of stress to it.
Batman made an upset grunt-growl, and Nightwing a wounded noise. They should've known she wouldn't wait for them, but they'd been so caught up in Tim disappearing that they hadn't thought about it. At least Batman and Nightwing weren't going to be too far behind.
Nightwing arrived first, diving in through the window and landing in a roll. He had expected to see all kinds of horrific things, so seeing Spoiler crouching, unharmed, to gently trace something on the floor was a shocking relief.
"There's some kind of marks here, on the stone." Spoiler started without preamble or looking over her shoulder, "It looks like… acid burns? I think they're making some kind of pattern."
Nightwing rose to his feet, pressing a hand to his chest as he came down from the hear-hyperventilation. "Don't scare us like that."
Spoiler glanced slightly back at him with an eyebrow raised. "What? You guys knew I was fine. I left my comms on, despite the risk of lecture."
Nightwing breathlessly shook his head. "We couldn't hear you. Babs said there's some kind of interference."
"Oh." Steph said, feeling a little embarrassed. That made a lot more sense than Babs just giving up on dissuading Steph of her plan.
Nightwing strolled forward, craning his neck down to get a view of what Steph was looking at. A curved, pale line ran under her fingertips, continuing outward in either direction to ultimately form a perfect circle. It was large, hard to see the entirety of it in the dark, and from edge to edge ran these lines, connected to each other by spiky, starlike shapes. The marks themselves had a texture as though whatever made them had been bubbling, yet somehow stayed contained enough to not completely obscure the image.
A feeling of dread began to press down on Nightwing's chest like a stone.
Only years of practice alerted Nightwing when Batman arrived, gliding forward silently as though made of shadow. He glanced down at the symbols on the stone, silent for a long moment as his lips pursed into displeasure.
"I'll call Justice League Dark." He eventually acquiesced.
— — —
Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3
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God now I’m seriously thinking of an Undertale route with Spamton and Tenna, specifically how they would affect the ending phone call… I feel like if you kill Tenna, especially if you kill nobody else, Spamton goes completely insane forever. Maybe throws himself into the core again, like how Alphys dies if you kill Mettaton.
If you kill Spamton but fix Tenna, though, since Tenna doesn’t know he’s alive… maybe he joins Mettaton’s network but he’s hollow inside? Has no real purpose and no real friends, just shuts himself down every night alone. You know, a neutral ending!
Neutral Route if you kill only Tenna
Spamton spirals even further, tricking himself into believing that he can still fix Tenna, but he soon realizes that there’s nothing he can do. So I believe he would jump into the Core again or do SOMETHING. Either way, his shop is closed down after the player’s choice to kill Tenna.
Neutral Route if you kill only Spamton
I like that idea a lot. He’s always wants to help people and lift their spirits, so being a TV star after being repaired sounds perfect to him. Before his Spinel moment, he thought Spamton had died when he jumped into the core. And so, if the player kills Spamton and later repairs Tenna, Tenna will be conscious again still believing Spamton to have never been alive since the Core incident. However, he quickly finds the evidence of him all through the underground. His abandoned shop, his strange graffiti, and reports and rumours from other monsters that one of the old Royal Scientists used to leave all this stuff, but disappeared suddenly. Tenna realizes if he had just stayed awake and not shut himself off to fruitlessly wait for Chara and Asriel, he could have found Spamton and helped him. He wallows in regret and sits alone in his room every night, watching the same VHS tape over and over, which was filled with little moments of the Dreemurr family before everything went bad, including moments of Tenna and Spamton. …and I realized I could make them even more tragic if I made them fiancés, who then had a falling out before they even got married (the falling out being after Gaster fell into the core and Spamton started losing it and blaming Tenna to deflect his own guilt). Tenna doesn’t even care about the fight anymore and he’s not mad at Spamton. He just wishes he hadn’t been powered off for all those years while Spamton clearly still cared about him and had been trying to fix him up.
#doctorsiren#undertale#deltarune#spamtenna#tenna#tenna undertale#spamton#mettaton#Royal Caretaker AU#undertale au#deltarune au#mettatenna#<- sort of lmao haha I don’t ship them in DR but they could be cute here in UT if Tenna would get therapy 😭#digital art#my art#procreate#doodle requests#I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS#OUGHHH#except I remade Spamton’s shop using the rectangle select -> colour fill tool#and added more graffiti stuff and that took a while haha#I also spent way longer on Tenna and Mettaton than I meant to lmao#I’m back at it again with ‘Character sits alone and sadly looks at photograph of loved ones’#a common trope within my work LMAO#Tenna and Mettaton are very Jessie and James to me#so I actually referenced a pose of Team Rocket#also after he was fixed up. his plug cord tail was replaced with a microphone tail (Mettaton’s idea)#ANYWAY YEAH I REALLY LIKED DOING THIS ONE#I think Everywhere at the End of Time and similar music like that would fit the Tenna comic#Married Life also ☹️☹️☹️
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Little Peanut
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Fem!Wife!Pregnant!Reader
Summary: You and Bob are finally ready to start a family. Basically just a smutty and fluffy look into the two of you as you approach parenthood.
CW: 18+ MDNI! Smut. Unprotected P in V (duh). Bob's breeding kink (because we all know he has one). Dirty talk. Pregnancy sex. Pregnancy symptoms, birthing scene. Tooth rotting Fluff. Like a lot of it (brush your teeth after this). Some angst. Lots of found family.
Author's note: I know I said I was going to write a part 2 of All the dreams of you, and I am, promise! It's on its way. But hey, this happened. Because I just know Bob would be the best dad! Please like, reblog and comment❤️
Word count: 8243
“Oh, god!” you moaned loudly, the sound mixing with pants, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet, squelching sounds of Bob pushing his cock in and out of you.
“Fuck, baby” Bob grunted against your skin, face buried in the crook of your neck. “You feel so good around me!”
His breath was warm against you as he rutted into you like it was the only answer, like your body was the path to salvation. A layer of sweat coated both of you as he covered your entire body with his, your stomach and face pressed against the mattress, a pillow propping up your pelvis. His dog tags hung from his neck, landing on your back. He had his fingers tangled with yours, pressing into the mattress whilst the other hand braced for support.
Your bodies rubbed against each other with almost no friction as sweat pooled at your lower back. It was the hottest day of July so far. Bob had seen you lounging on the deck in that red, stringy bikini he loved so much, and the rest was history. The air conditioning in the room did little to cool down the fiery inferno that was your passion. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
His cock hit that perfect spot inside you, making you throw your head back in ecstasy. Damp baby hairs clung to your forehead, hair messy from how many times he’d run his fingers through it.
“That feel good, honey?” he panted, body tensing with the effort of maintaining that exact angle for you.
“Mhm!” you whined breathlessly. That desperate, burning feeling coiled at you, spreading like wildfire. What was this building to? Your third orgasm? You’d practically lost count, too lost in the feeling of him taking you to literal heaven. “So good!”
Bob let go of you to properly brace himself above you, letting his hips snap into you even faster. Every drag of his cock against your slick walls drew you closer and closer to that precipice.
“Shit!” he cursed behind you, hips almost faltering for a second before he continued. “I love the way your ass jiggles in this position! So fucking- so fucking sexy!”
God, this was not a side of Bob Floyd seen often. And not by anyone but you. He was so far removed from the sweet, dorky aerospace engineering major you’d met back in college. The one that brought you flowers on your first date and stumbled over his words. This version of Bob was primal, feral even. It made your insides clench just thinking about it.
“You can’t do that” he warned ruffly.
“Can’t help it” you moaned. “I’m close again!”
He groaned into your ear. “Fuck, I want you to cum again! But I don’t think I’ll last if you do. You just feel to fucking good!”
That pulled your mind to a screeching halt.
You’d had a dentist appointment this morning that you woke up late for. You’d barely had time to brush your teeth before running through the door to your car. Then you spent all day at the office or at client meetings. You had just gotten home for the day when you’d changed into that bikini to catch the last bit of afternoon sun when Bob came home to and…
“Bob!” you called, voice immediately more urgent. “Bob, wait, stop!”
He pulled out of you not even a second later, already sitting up, leaning back on his feet. You turned around, still half lying down, to face him. His eyes shone with worry as he scanned your face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, hand stroking your leg in a soothing manner. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, of course not” you reassured him quickly, your hand covering his on your thigh. “It’s just… I forgot to take my pill this morning. I literally just realized.”
Bob’s eyebrows rose slightly as he processed this piece of information. “Oh…” he said slowly.
“Yeah” you cringed slightly, not knowing how to react either. “Oh…”
He looked lost in thought for a few seconds, staring at his glasses that were perched on your bedside table. “You want me to get a condom?”
You pulled your lip between your teeth, pondering his suggestion. Maybe that would be the safest course of action, or just stopping here and moving on to oral for the last part. But all the memories at the back of your mind kept pulling at you, of all the conversations you’d had over the past year since moving to San Diego after the Dagger Squad had formally been stationed here.
“No” you said slowly, looking up at his ocean blue eyes for support. “I don’t.”
His gaze met yours, hand squeezing your leg. There was something longing there, something hopeful, and it made your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was finally time. “You want me to pull out?” he asked, just for one final confirmation.
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “What if we just kept going?” you asked quietly.
Bob’s smile mirrored yours. There was that hint of the nervous young man you met over eight years ago. “What if we did?”
“I mean we talked a lot of finally starting a family when we bought this house. But then things were so busy and I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you, so I didn’t bring it up again.”
Bob laughed, incredulous. He rubbed a hand over his face, that goofy smile growing stronger. “I’ve been wanting to bring it up, like everyday for six months. But then you were just getting settled into your new office and I didn’t want to add more to your plate before you were ready.”
The two of you just looked at each other before giggling like a pair of idiots. “I think I’m ready” you said when you finally calmed down. “If you are.”
“I am.”
Then, without warning, Bob flipped you over on your back, pulling your legs up to rest on his shoulders. Fuck, that navy strength never failed to make you horny. He pushed back inside you, both of you moaning at the feeling. God he was so big and warm still, and your pussy soaked him like there hadn’t been an interruption.
“You don’t want me on my stomach anymore?” you questioned teasingly.
“No” Bob grunted as he maneuvered the pillow so that it was now resting under your lower back. “I read that this position gives a higher likelihood of conception.”
Of course he did. “You know I’ve been on the pill for almost ten years, right babe?” you teased. “The odds aren’t that high of anything happening tonight.”
“Don’t care” he muttered. “Can’t take the risk.”
Holy shit he was sexy when he said things like that! Then he started to piston in and out of you again like a man possessed. That wildfire returned to engulf you in record time, making your entire body tremble.
Bob’s brows were furrowed in concentration, sweat dripping from his forehead from exertion, dog tags swinging wildly on his chest. He looked so strong and assured, like everything you ever wanted. The warmth in your belly swelled, your heart beating wildly in your chest, clit throbbing.
As if he was sensing it, Bob reached out to rub at the sensitive nub. Your entire body convulsed in response, electricity zapping through you. “That’s it!” Bob panted, increasing his pace even more. “You look so fucking good like this, so ready for my cum! You want it, baby?” You nodded helplessly, too lost in the pleasure to say anything. “You want me to fill you up? I’ll do it! I’ll do it again and again until you’re fucking leaking. Then I’ll push it back in and make you a fucking mama!”
That pulled a long moan from you, legs shaking as he kept rubbing at your clit. His words made you melt with everything from rambunctious horniness to unyielding devotion and love. “Yes!” you managed pathetically, hands grasping at the other pillows just to hold on to something.
“Yeah?” he asked cockily. “You want me to make you a mama?”
“Please!” you whined. “Do it! I want you to!”
“Then cum for me! I need to feel it!”
And you did. There was no stopping it even if you tried. The orgasm tore through you like lightning, electrifying every cell in your body as you convulsed, pussy clenching around his cock like a vice. A hoarse scream tore through your throat as Bob pushed into you one final time, staying as close as humanly possible as he emptied himself inside you. He cried out with his head thrown back, panting through his release.
After a while, he slowly pulled out, careful not to let anything leak. He landed on the bed next to you with a huff, pulling you into his arms. Soft kisses were planted on your temple, cheek and ear as he let his hand travel down to cup your pussy, making sure it all stayed inside.
You let yourself soak in the aftercare for a while before trying to sit up to go to the bathroom. But Bob pulled you back with a grunt of disapproval, burrowing into the crook of your neck to keep you still.
“I’m going to have to get up to pee soon” you giggled, indulging him by pressing a kiss to his head.
“I know, sweetheart, I know” he whined quietly. “Just let it be a little while longer, okay? Just a few minutes.”
“Okay” you conceded, smiling softly at him. “Just a few minutes…”
You both ended up falling asleep not even five minutes later.
XXX
Over the coming weeks, you lost count of the number of times you and Bob fucked without protection. Your birth control was a thing of the past, and Bob took every opportunity to put his dick inside you. Once, when you were absolutely spent from a grueling day of client meetings and bad office coffee, he offered to jerk off next to you and then push his cum inside as he fingered you. That one only made you laugh. You made a joke about stuffing a thanksgiving turkey and that seemed to knock him down a few pegs.
You knew he wanted to ask every day if you felt different, good or bad, but refrained for your sanity. That, you appreciated. Having a husband that was so eager to become a father was a blessing in so many ways. But having him constantly asking if you felt pregnant yet would create an air of pressure you didn’t want. After that first time, you’d agreed that you would stop taking your pills, and whatever happened, happened.
Almost two months passed without you feeling any different, and eventually you stopped seeing it as unprotected sex and baby-making, and just as you and your husband living life as normal. Bob would leave for Top Gun every day and you’d leave for the office. You went on morning runs together on the weekend, grocery shopped after work, watched movies cuddling on the couch. Life was just normal. The only difference was that you stopped drinking wine with dinner on weekends and took the folic acid supplements a pharmacist recommended when the two of you went to the drugstore for something completely unrelated, but Bob couldn’t stop himself from asking.
Then, what started as a stressful day where you blamed your workload for the upset stomach turned into an entire week of upset stomachs and barely tolerated meals. The tiredness and grumpiness had bled into you for a while, but again, work right?
When you came home that Friday, you were greeted with a smell that would usually cause you to run to the kitchen for a plate, but now only caused you to stop dead in your tracks in the hallway.
“Sweetie?” Bob called, appearing from the kitchen. “You’re home! Maverick let us go early for once, so I brought you your favorite Thai food.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, but stopped when he felt you stiffen. “You okay?”
“Yeah…” you gulped, feeling the nausea roll over you. You tried to force a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, no. I need some air.” And you rushed back outside onto the driveway.
Your stomach rolled uncomfortably, and every step you took felt like it could be the final jostle before you emptied the meager contents of your stomach. Finally, you reached your car, leaning against it for support. The hot summer sun seared down on you, making everything so much worse.
Bob was at your side instantly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. You would not throw up on your beloved car, you just needed her for some assistance. He leaned in to kiss the back of your head. “What’s wrong, honey? You’re feeling sick?”
You nodded shortly. “There’s a plastic bag in the trunk. Please get it. Just in case.” The words came out short, clipped. But every uttered word came with a huge use of energy from your side, energy you’d rather use to not throw up on the car that was vaxed just last week.
He was back next to you with the bag when a chorus of barks and yipping filled the air. Of course she’d pick this time to show up, you thought irritably.
“Are you alright there, Mrs. Floyd?” your nosy neighbor asked as she wrangled her million tiny dogs. It wasn’t said in a genuinely caring tone. It spoke of curiosity and gossip, like she needed something new to tell all her girlfriends over tea.
“We’re fine, Mrs. Abner” Bob responded firmly, doing his best to shield you from her judging gaze. “Thank you for your concern.”
She shot the two of you a disbelieving look, but you didn’t see anything else since you turned away, not wanting to be the object of her snooping anymore. Finally, the sounds of her and her dogs disappeared down the street.
After a while, the nausea subsided to a point where it was at least bearable. Bob hadn’t said anything. He just stood there, bag ready in one hand and rubbing your back with the other. And you couldn’t love him more for it.
“Okay” you whispered quietly. “I think I’m okay for now…”
Bob nodded and started folding up the plastic bag. “Did you eat something bad at work?”
“I don’t think so” you frowned. “I’ve barely eaten lunch all week. My stomach’s been in a funk.”
Something flashed in his eyes for a second before it disappeared, being replaced with concern. “I’m sorry honey” he cooed, pulling you into a hug.
But as soon as you were pressed against his hard body, you hissed in pain. “Sorry” you mumbled. “My boobs have been really sore today.”
That thing flashed in Bob’s eyes again, an eager look erupting on his face. “Wait!” He gently maneuvered you in front of him, hands on your shoulders. “Think about it!” he urged. And it dawned on you, realization washing over you like a tidal wave of possibility.
“My boobs hurt” you said breathlessly, eyes wide.
“You’re nauseous” Bob continued, trying to remain calm, but clearly bubbling with excitement.
“I haven’t slept in two weeks…”
“You didn’t buy any tampons last month.” That was the last piece of the puzzle in your now eager mind. You hadn’t… You had been so used to not getting your period when on the pill that you didn’t give it a second thought. “Okay” Bob decided. “Wait here. I’m gonna put the food in the fridge and open a window. Then I’ll take you to bed for some rest.”
You waited in the driveway like he asked, thoughts full of happy possibilities and what ifs. Maybe it was bad to get this excited before anything was confirmed. But you couldn’t help it! If you were actually pregnant, that would mean you were one step closer to the family you had dreamed of with Bob since you met him at freshman orientation. A hand subconsciously stroked your lower belly as the possibilities swirled in your head.
Bob returned minutes later, gently guiding you back into the house, up the stairs to your bedroom. He helped you remove all the stiff office wear and tucked you into bed. “Hold on” he murmured and left the room, returning soon after with a bottle of water, a ginger ale and a packet of crackers you had no idea you even had at home. “Alright, here’s some stuff for you. I’m gonna run down to the pharmacy. You just rest.” You nodded and he smiled down at you, eyes shining bright. He pressed a smiling kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too” you smiled back.
As your husband was away, you slowly nibbled on some crackers and drank some of the ginger ale. It helped somewhat with the nausea, and you spent the time trying to calculate the timeline in your head. It had been…eight? No, nine weeks since that day. Give or take. Somewhere around there, you had missed a period without even realizing. And given how many times you’d had sex since then, you had no idea which time had been the time. If you were pregnant that is. Also given the fact that your cycle had probably been all over the place from the pills, you really couldn’t guess…
The exhaustion from the day slowly caught up with you as you waited for him. You were somewhere between awake and asleep when Bob came back, carrying a plastic bag filled to the brim.
“Hey, sweetie” you mumbled sleepily as he entered the bedroom.
“Hey” he answered. He clutched the plastic bag between his hands, body practically vibrating with nervous energy. “I couldn’t decide which brand to trust, so I got you one of each.” He gestured with the bag where the pregnancy tests rattled inside.
A small laugh escaped you, burrowing deeper into the blankets. “Thank you for getting them for me.” You yawned. “Is it okay if I use one tomorrow? I’m really tired, and I really want to sleep…” It was barely 7 pm, but whatever. The chance to finally get some shut-eye was too tempting.
Bob’s eyes softened. “Of course, honey.” He put the bag in the small ensuite and then came to sat on the edge of the bed next to you. “Go to sleep. We’ll work it out in the morning.” A warm hand came to rest on your shoulder as Bob leaned down to kiss your cheek. And you were out like a light.
XXX
“Bob, I can’t pee if you’re staring at me” you said with an exasperated smile. You were currently sitting on the toilet, only wearing one of your husband’s old navy t-shirts, pregnancy test in your hand jammed into place, waiting to be peed on.
“You’ve peed in front of me plenty of times” Bob countered, leaning against the doorframe. He was shirtless, only wearing a pair of sweatpants. His biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest, and you had to force yourself not to be distracted.
You huffed a smile. “Yeah, but there’s pressure now.”
“You don’t want me to see the potential confirmation of our parenthood?” he teased, eyes glinting.
“Me peeing doesn’t confirm that. The test will.” You couldn’t help but giggle when you saw the hope in his eyes. “Tell you what, let me pee, and you can guard the test.”
“Deal” Bob smiled and left the bathroom.
As soon as you finished, Bob was back at your side, kissing every inch of your face and head he could reach before gently taking the test from your hand, holding it as if it was made of glass. He placed it on the counter as you washed your hands.
When you were done, he pulled you into him, your back to his chest. His arms wrapped around you as your head leaned back against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, breathing him in. The scent of him, clean and fresh, calmed the nerves inside you. You could feel your heartrate and breathing slowing down. Those three minutes passed slowly, Bob alternating between watching the test and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.
His timer went off and you stiffened slightly. You so desperately wanted it to be positive, and the fear of disappointment clawed at you.
“Ready?” Bob whispered.
You nodded, even though that wasn’t 100% true. “Let’s have a look.”
With trembling hands, you slowly turned the test over.
There it was. Two small, blue dashes. Positive. Pregnant. A loud yelp escaped you as you dropped the test into the sink. Bob let out a loud hoot of excitement, hands pumping into the air. You turned to face him, the elation on his face mirroring yours.
You flung yourself into his arms, clinging to him with every ounce of your being. Tears of happiness formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Bob’s arms rubbed all over your back as he hugged you.
He pulled back to cup your face and leaned in to kiss you. It was eager, loving and excited all at once, glasses pressing between you. The tears were falling freely from his ocean eyes, and he laughed through them. “We’re going to have a baby!” he said, voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
“Holy shit!” you cursed, laughing with him. “We are!”
XXX
You didn’t expect to snag a doctor’s appointment so soon the following Monday, but someone had cancelled at the last minute so here you were, bouncing with excitement with Bob by your side as you waited in the exam room. He had cited a medical emergency to be able to go with you. Technically, you weren’t sure he could do that, but you couldn’t care less. He was here, and that was all that mattered.
Bob held your hand as the doctor asked question after question, putting everything in your chart. They took your blood pressure, took a blood test, had you pee in a cup, performed a pelvic exam, and then it was finally time.
The ultrasound wand was cold as the midwife gently inserted it into you. Some friends had warned you how uncomfortable transvaginal ultrasounds were, and they weren’t lying.
“Are you alright, honey?” Bob asked, noting your frown.
You smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just cold.”
“There” the midwife announced with a wide smile. “There’s your baby.”
A tiny dot appeared in the fuzzy image, fluttering in and out as the midwife moved the wand. Seeing the tiny life growing inside you so clearly brought fresh tears to your eyes. It was real, you were really going to be parents!
“Beautiful” Bob murmured, face mesmerized. “I’m so proud of you…”
The midwife watched your exchange with a small smile before continuing the scan. “It looks like you’re around nine weeks along. If you look here, you can see the head, and arms forming. Here’s the placenta, looking good and healthy.” She said it so matter of factly, but you were still wrapping your head around the fact that your baby has arms. “Now let’s see if we can hear the heart beating.”
She flipped a switch, and the characteristic sound of a fetal heart beating filled the room. You had heard it so many times in movies and on TV. Hearing it like this though? When it was your own baby? Completely different. The undoubtedly strong sign of life. It was glorious. Bob’s hand squeezed yours, kissing your temple.
“Baby’s heart rate is nice and strong around 160 beats per minute” the midwife confirmed. “Congratulations” she continued and pulled the wand out. “Your baby is the size of a peanut.”
“A peanut?” Bob questioned with wonder. “Our Little Peanut…”
XXX
Bob felt like he was walking on cloud nine. All day, every day. He was going to be a father! And you? You were going to be the best mother in the world. Little Peanut was so lucky to have you!
There was nothing he could do to contain his excitement. The living room now more resembled a library of baby books than a place people actually lived. He needed to buy an entirely new shelf just for all the books he’d accumulated.
During those first three weeks after the doctor’s appointment, the only people who knew were you, both sets of parents, your boss and Maverick. Maverick had been sworn to secrecy, Bob only felt he needed to know in case anything happened, and you needed him. His boss had smiled like a proud father when Bob told him, offering congratulations and promises to not tell anyone.
Interestingly, the entire neighborhood seemed to be under the impression that Y/N Floyd had caught food poisoning in her driveway and ended up puking all over it and her car. That hadn’t happened, obviously. Mrs. Abner had just run with the little information she had. But you had just laughed and said better people think that than the whole world knowing you were pregnant before you were ready.
As soon as those first twelve weeks were over and you felt safe telling people, Bob took one of the ultrasound pictures and taped it to the inside of his locker, right next to his favorite picture of the two of you. It had been taken on a hike, the two of you sitting on a rock at a look-out post. The two of you were in work-out clothes, smiling as the sun shone down. He loved it. You looked like sunshine personified. Of course, he loved all of the pictures of you, especially from your wedding. But there was just something special about this one.
“Uhm?” Hangman’s annoying voice tore Bob from his daydreaming. “What is this?” The blonde Texan was pointing to the ultrasound image, face glinting with…pride?
“What does it look like?” Bob asked neutrally.
The squad knew you, loved you even. But it had taken a while before anyone knew you existed. He had never hidden you away. The picture of you had always been in his locker, he always came to work wearing his wedding ring. He just took it off each morning to avoid losing it. He just didn’t talk about his private life to the extent the others did. Had they bothered to ask, he would have told them about you sooner.
They finally found out when Rooster offered to set him up with a friend of his and Bob had casually, albeit with a blush to his cheeks, explained that he was married, so Rooster’s services were unnecessary. The entire group had guffawed in disbelief, demanding to see picture after picture of you to make sure you were an actual real life person. Then you’d showed up on Visitation day and the rest was history.
“It looks like…” Hangman quieted for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face. Bob barely had time to worry about what was going to come out of his mouth next when… “Everyone!” Hangman yelled, grabbing the attention of the rest of the Dagger squad. “Baby on board is bringing a baby on board!” He looked so proud of his own word play, it was almost embarrassing.
The squad looked at each other in confusion for a few seconds before the realization sunk in. Then there was a ruckus of loud shouts, yells of congratulations and Bob being pulled into countless hugs. Pride beat in his chest as he accepted the well wishes from his team members. They were all family by now, yes even Bagman, and he just knew they’d make the best bunch of rowdy uncles and one aunt.
Phoenix pulled him into a long hug, squeezing him like an older sister would. “Congrats! So, I was right” she said triumphantly.
Bob guffawed. “You knew? How? We haven’t told anyone until now.”
Phoenix shrugged, but the pride at being right was still there. “You’ve been walking around like an excited puppy for weeks. And I noticed that Y/N wasn’t drinking the last time she was at the Hard Deck with us.”
“Holy shit, man!” Rooster exclaimed, pulling Bob into another side hug. “This is fantastic! How is Y/N doing?”
“She’s good” Bob answered with a dopey smile on his face. “I mean, the smell of my oatmeal makes her gag, and she always feels like a bloated corpse. Her words. But we’re so excited! She’s showing in fitted shirts now.” He added that last part, quietly, almost to himself.
The group exchanged a smirk before Fanboy opened his mouth. “You gotta bring her by! We have to celebrate! The legacy of the Dagger squad is continuing!”
XXX
The change in seasons also meant changes in your pregnancy. You were now twenty weeks along. Half way there. Christmas lights twinkled all over the city, the snow was still elusive, but excitement ran high. You were clearly showing by now, and Bob couldn’t keep his hands off you. He’d also been given the, in his mind, fantastic responsibility of rubbing cocoa butter all over your belly, boobs and thighs mornings and evenings to help with the stretch marks. He loved the ritual, because it more often than not led to some intense make out-sessions and if time permitted, love-making.
He also loved your stretch marks, no matter how much you complained about your body changing. They were a sign of your impending motherhood. And you had never looked more beautiful. Happiness radiated off you, even when your body ached, or when the nausea made its sporadic return, or when you couldn’t sleep due to the heartburn, or sat on the toilet for ages with constipation.
Bob did everything he could to help, did anything to alleviate some of your aches. He helped you in and out of cars, brought you your pre-natal vitamins and water in the morning, cooked for you, handled all the house chores, held your hair back when you puked, helped you shave when you couldn’t see over your belly anymore.
The first time the baby kicked was at the Hard Deck, because clearly, Little Peanut was going to be a social butterfly. You were sitting beside Bob on a stool, sipping a seltzer through a straw when it happened. There had been flutters before, like small bubbles, which the doctor had said was normal. But this was different. This was more distinct, like a movement.
“Oh” you said suddenly, hand coming to rest where the sensation had occurred. It didn’t hurt, nor was it uncomfortable. It was just…peculiar.
“What’s wrong?” Bob asked, hands coming to rest over yours. His eyes shone with worry and it made you melt a little. He’d done this often lately, freaking out over every little thing. He was so protective over you and the baby, already proving himself as a dad.
“I…” you tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing. “I think the baby kicked.”
“Really?” Bob turned his entire body to face yours. Eagerness and devotion shone in his eyes as he pressed his other hand to your belly. You exchanged an exhilarated smile before Bob leaned down to eye level with your belly. “Little Peanut?” he asked quietly. “Can you hear me? It’s your daddy. Mommy says you just kicked. Can you do it again? Please? Daddy really wants to feel it, too.”
Color flushed your cheeks, both with happiness and slight embarrassment. He often talked to your belly when it was just the two of you, but he’d never done it in public before. Yet, you played along. “Come on, Peanut” you coxed gently. “Kick for daddy.” You took his hand and placed it exactly where it had happened.
Nothing happened for a while, and you could tell Bob was just about to accept his fate when suddenly, that distinct jolt returned. Right at the same place. Bob’s face broke out in a huge smile, giddiness radiating off him. His hand flexed over the motion, taking in the sensation. “Oh my god” he breathed. “That was amazing!”
“What’s going on here?” Coyote questioned, smirking at the two of you.
Bob didn’t answer, he just kept stroking your belly. So, you piped up, giggling. “The baby just kicked.”
Fanboy craned his head so fast you were surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. “No way!” he shouted. “Let me feel!” He and Payback practically wrestled to be the first one to your side, pushing Bob aside to get to your stomach.
“Hey!” Bob protested, correcting the glasses that had gotten all crooked in the process.
“Out of the way, sperm donor!” Fanboy chided. “Let Uncle Mickey say hi!”
“I’m sorry, but Uncle Reuben clearly takes precedence. Move over, back-seater!”
“In your dreams, Payback!”
“Okay, guys!” Bob tried, clearly antsy over the amount of shenanigans going on in such close proximity to your belly. “Please be careful!”
You just laughed at their antics. Since you and Bob moved to San Diego, you’d moved so far away from your family back in Montana. It was nice to have a safety net of people who clearly cared so much for you, Bob and the baby. People you could call family here, as well.
“Woah!” Mickey exclaimed, when the baby kicked a third time, even stronger this time. “Baby Dagger is going to be a soccer player!”
That had been Fanboy’s idea. He had taken to calling your unborn child Baby Dagger, because you carried the next generation of the Dagger squad. Eventually, it just stuck and now everyone used it.
Trying to get a group of grown adults to take turns smushing their hands against your belly turned out to be surprisingly hard. But eventually, everyone got a feel. Rooster sulked that he didn’t even get to feel a kick, even though you assured him there’d be plenty of opportunities. Of course, Hangman bragged that he had felt the hardest kick, making Rooster’s sulking even worse.
He hadn’t felt the hardest one. That honor went to Nat, which she understood by the way you winced when it happened. But there seemed to be a silent agreement between the two of you to just let Hangman believe his own nonsense. Maybe you could use it against him later.
When you came home that night, you collapsed on the couch with a contented sigh. Bob leaned down to remove your shoes without you having to ask. Once they were off, he helped you maneuver into a lying down position, with him sitting on the other end of the couch with your feet in his lap. He reached out to squeeze that one pressure point that always bothered you and you moaned in relief. Your feet had been so swollen lately, making it uncomfortable to walk. Compression socks helped a bit, but you still felt bloated.
“Thank you, baby” you murmured contentedly.
“Of course” Bob smiled. “You’re carrying our Little Peanut. It’s my job to take care of you.” He paused for a moment to shift to the other foot. “Halfway there. You’re doing so well, my love. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled in that soft way, like he couldn’t believe you were his, that this life was his. “I know I say it all the time, but I am. You’re so strong, carrying this burden by yourself.”
His kind words caused tears to well in your eyes, the love simply overflowing. Sure, the tears were never far away these days, but these tears were special. They were love for everything you had been blessed with. “Thank you, Bobby… I love you so much.”
“I love you, and I love our baby. So much.”
Just then, your tuxedo cat Oreo jumped up on your knees, curled up and laid down, perfectly contorted around your belly, purring softly. “Hi, there, buddy” you cooed softly, scratching him behind the ear. He’d gotten this habit of guarding you since the beginning. He’d always been a cuddly cat, but now it was in a ‘I’m gonna lie here and refuse to move’ kind of way. Always curled around your stomach, sniffing it slowly, rubbing his face against it, staring at Bob like he’d done something wrong every time you were in discomfort. “Don’t worry, buddy” you whispered. “You’ll always be my first born.”
Bob’s hand ran up and down your shin. He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. He knew it was a thing that pregnancy made people glow, but he didn’t really believe it until now. He loved all the changes in your body, even when you didn’t. They were evidence of your strength and amazing body’s capability.
Seeing your belly heavy with his baby did things to him. There were more times where he tucked a boner than when he didn’t these days. Even more so during your first trimester when you wanted absolutely nothing to do with his dick, understandably so. But he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful and the thought of your baby growing inside you drove him insane.
“God, you’re beautiful” Bob murmured, hand travelling higher up your leg. There was a heaviness in his voice that you instantly picked up on.
You tilted your head to the side, lip snagging between your teeth. “Yeah?” There was that familiar glint in your eyes that told him you were already on the same wavelength. As your second trimester hit, your usual sex drive came back and then some. It was heaven.
“Mhm” he said, squeezing your thigh. He could already feel his dick stirring in his jeans.
Oreo, clearly sensing the change in atmosphere, jumped off your lap and scampered into the kitchen. Your eyes flicked down to his lap, and that was it. Bob sat up straighter, scooted over and pulled you into his lap as quickly as he could without making you uncomfortable. A whimper escaped you as you pressed down on the bulge in his pants. “Kiss me, Bobby” you whispered.
His lips were on you instantly. Hands came you rest on your hips, caressing you over the fabric of your dress. His lips slanted against yours, tongue caressing your lower lips, begging for entrance. Eagerly accepting, you wound your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Tongues moved against each other, battling for dominance.
Bob’s hand travelled from your hip up to your breast, massaging the tender flesh before squeezing your nipple through the layer of fabric. His dick twitched in his pants at the moan you let out. Warmth spread in his body at the way you rutted against him. Blood rushed in his ears, glasses smushing up against his nose, fogging up.
“More” you begged. “Please, I need more.” You leaned in, yanking him closer by the collar of his shirt, planting open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat.
“What do you need, honey?” Bob asked hoarsely, pulling down the straps of your dress. “Tell me.”
“You” you panted, reaching to yank the top of your dress down. “I need you inside me, right you.” He helped you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down.
His cock sprang free, heavy and already dripping with pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly. Bob’s head fell back onto the couch as he groaned, the sensation overwhelming him.
“Touch me” you whispered desperately.
Immediately, Bob reached under your dress to pull your panties to the side. “Fuck, you’re so wet already” he breathed, letting his finger slip through your soaked folds. Reaching your clit, he rubbed in slow circles, loving the way your hand sped up around his cock as your moans grew louder.
He helped you raise up and position him at your entrance. Slowly, you sunk down on him, enveloping his cock in your tight heat. “Shit!” he cursed, pulling you even closer to him.
Your belly rubbed against his as you moved, your pussy squeezing him impossibly tight. You were so wet and warm, practically drowning him.
You fucked slowly, reverently, his fingers tirelessly working your clit until you unraveled on top of him, him following shortly after. When he helped you up the stairs afterwards, the baby kicked again, and Bob was the happiest man alive.
XXX
The weeks lengthened into months. You were in your third trimester now, and Bob was freaking out. Just a bit. Everything had gone so smoothly, in a way that almost made him anxious that the bad stuff was just looming in the distance. That something was just about to snap. All the books said that anxiety was normal for parents to be. That it was a natural reaction to all the changes in your lives. And he believed it.
The therapist on base had been a great help, helping him find tools to navigate this change so that it wouldn’t affect his work.
He had just finished a huge stack of paperwork and gotten to the changing room, his civilian clothes waiting for him in the locker room when you called.
“Hi, honey” Bob answered after having plopped a wireless headphone in his ear. “I’m just getting changed. I’ll be there in maybe thirty minutes to pick you up?”
“Sounds good” you answered. “I just got done with the last client meeting for the day. And I’m starving, can we get Thai on the way home?”
Bob chuckled. What had started as an enormous aversion to your favorite take away place had now turned back into an obsession, with gusto. All you wanted was Thai food. And the spicier the better. “Sure thing, sweetie.”
“Good” you huffed. He assumed from the breathlessness in your voice that you had just climbed the flight of stairs to your office. “And I mean it when I’m telling you I’m starving. Thirty minutes or I’m leaving without you!”
“Don’t you dare!” Bob warned, though there wasn’t any real anger in his voice. “You are not picking out the colors of Peanut’s room without me. I’ll be there soon! Love you!”
“Love you, too.”
“Peanut?” Rooster questioned behind Bob.
“Shit!” Bob cursed, turning around. He hadn’t even realized he wasn’t alone anymore.
Rooster’s smirk was gleeful, all delight. His hands were at his hips as he stared his friend with that look on his face. “Peanut?” he repeated. Before Bob could respond, Rooster turned around and ran out of the changing room, screaming at the high heavens. “Everyone! Hey! Everyone, listen up!” Members of the Daggers squad gathered around them, including Bob who followed him out. “It’s Peanut!” Rooster announced proudly. “Baby Dagger’s callsign is Peanut! And I was the first to know! That beats a hard kick, Bagman!”
Hangman made a ‘pfft’ sound but definitely looked jealous.
“Aww!” Natasha said with a smile. “That’s so cute!”
“You didn’t find out first, Brad” Bob corrected gently, though he was smiling. “You eavesdropped.”
“I still beat Jake!” Rooster defended himself. “And I didn’t eavesdrop! You were on the phone when I came in.”
“If you actively listened, that still counts” Coyote chimed in.
But Bob didn’t have time to listen to the argument anymore. He had a date at the hardware store.
In the end, you ended up picking an adorable pale yellow and green wallpaper as an accent wall. It had small teddy bears and white bunnies in the pattern. The other walls were to be painted a pale yellow, bordering on a creamy off white. All the furniture were a light wooden color. The entire Dagger squad made an appearance at your house, including Maverick and Penny, to help you set it up.
Maverick, Coyote and Natasha were on wall duty, covering the floor, window and moldings in plastic, painting and getting the wallpaper up. Jake and Rooster argued over the correct way to assemble the bookshelves and dresser. Bob, Payback and Fanboy assembled the crib and changing station. Bob didn’t dare let anyone do it without him. No way were they risking his baby’s safety by not following the instructions.
You had been relegated to easy, non-exerting tasks. Penny helped you organize clothes, books, stuffed animals, toys, blankets and beddings in different piles in the other room.
“How are you feeling?” Penny asked you gently as you folded a large pile on onesies.
“Great, besides the fact that it feels like there’s a watermelon strapped to my chest, I can’t breathe when I lie on my back and I pee when I sneeze” you chuckled, placing a pale blue onesie with clouds on it on top of the folded pile.
Penny laughed, a nostalgic smile on her face. “When I was pregnant with Amelia, I was scared shitless. There were so many things I didn’t know and was afraid to ask.” She reached over and gave your arm a squeeze. “I know you have your family and a whole support system. But if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”
“Thank you” you said gratefully. “We really appreciate that. We do have our families, but they still live back in Montana, so it’s not like we can call them in the middle of the night for emergencies. Any support system here is appreciated.”
“Well, I know Pete can’t wait to babysit” Penny laughed.
XXX
Another few weeks passed by. You were now at 38. The homestretch. And you were huge, could barely walk without assistance, always overheated, and usually grumpy. Bob had seen that thing on the internet where the partner stands behind and lifts the belly up. That had been a godsent. The relief it offered your tired back and shoulders was lifesaving.
It was mid-April by now. The spring sun, whilst comfortable for everyone else, turned your body into a furnace. You sat at the kitchen table, laptop open, yanking at the collar of your stretchy dress for some fanning. You’d be working from home these last weeks, which was also a lifesaver. You could pee as often as you needed, eat snacks perpetually, and nap after lunch.
“Honey?” Bob called as he entered the house that afternoon. “I’m home!” He found you there, sipping from your water bottle, fanning yourself as you read an email. “Hi, there” he greeted, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Hey” you greeted back. But then you stopped. “Come here” you instructed, yanking him back to you. There was a smell to him. A very distinctive one, one you’d never misplace. You sniffed at him like bloodhound. “Bob!” you said, aghast. “You didn’t!”
“What?” Bob questioned, stepping back. There was definitely a guilty tone to his voice. He avoided your accusing stare as you rose from your seat with much difficulty.
“Robert Floyd, tell me you did not eat sushi behind my back!”
A couple of days after you tested positive, Bob solemnly swore to not touch a plate of sushi until you could. After the realization hit you that sushi wasn’t recommended during pregnancy, you cried for half an hour. Blame the hormones. He’d promised to stay away from it too, out of solidarity. You had told him throughout your hiccups that he didn’t need to do that, but he had insisted. But now…?
“I’m sorry, baby” Bob tried, but you would have none of it.
“You promised you wouldn’t!” Tears of frustration welled in your eyes without you intending them too. There was no stopping them these days. The hormones flowed freely and clearly lived a life of their own.
“It was a team lunch! It was Mickey’s turn to choose, and I didn’t want to be the only one protesting.” He looked genuinely apologetic, rubbing the back of his neck, still not meeting your gaze completely.
Huffing out your frustration, you waddled out of the kitchen. Furiously, you wiped at the tears running down your cheeks. Deep down, you knew he’d done nothing wrong. Of course he could eat whatever he wanted. But it was hard to remember that through the hormone-induced rage.
Oreo meowed curiously as you entered the living room, head rising from where he had been napping on the couch. Immediately, he was up, jumping down to nestle against your legs.
“Honey?” Bob called as he followed you. “I’m sorry. Please?” Oreo turned his head and glared at your husband accusingly. “Oh, don’t you gang up on me, too!”
“It’s not fair!” you cried, crossing your arms over your now humungous tits. “I can’t eat sushi, I can’t drink wine, I can’t eat cheese. I’m huge, I feel like a beached whale. Everything hurts, I haven’t taken a shit in a week, I’m always grumpy. And I can’t even storm out on you because I move at the pace of a literal snail!”
Bob looked like he wanted to physically remove your pain and make it his own. “Sweatheart…” he whispered gently. He reached out for you, trying to place a soothing hand on your belly.
“No” you muttered, pulling back slightly. “No Peanut for you! We’re still mad.”
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle, just a bit. “I’m sorry. How about, after the baby is here, I’ll buy you a sushi boat at the hospital. And I won’t even sneak a piece.”
You pondered this for a few seconds, rage slowly ebbing away. “Fine…” He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. You sighed into the embrace, feeling his warm, strong body surround you. “Am I a bad person for wanting to be done with this?”
“Of course not!” Bob insisted instantly. “You’ve been so strong, carrying all of this on your own. You’ve grown an entire person. You are the strongest person I know, and it does not make you a bad person for being eager to have our child born into this world. Okay?”
“Okay…” you conceded, burrowing into his chest.
“Want me to do the belly lift?”
“Yes, please…”
XXX
The two of you went to bed that night like any other night. You had trouble falling asleep as usual, your back sore, your body feeling…heavy. You’d had Braxton hicks on and off the past few weeks. They sort of felt like this. So, you just assumed that was it.
Bob noticed, of course. He noticed everything about you. “Everything okay?” he whispered into the dark night.
“Yeah” you whispered back. “Just uncomfortable. Go back to sleep, sweetie. You have a flight test tomorrow.”
Eventually, he did fall back asleep.
When he woke up hours later, you were no longer in bed. He felt around on the cold mattress for your sleeping form before slowly opening his eyes. At first, he thought you were in the bathroom, but the lights were turned off.
“Honey?” he asked groggily.
“Yeah?” came your strained response.
Worry immediately seized him at your tone. He blindly reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. A warm glow illuminated the bedroom. When he finally got his glasses on, Bob could see you, bouncing on your beloved yoga ball in only his oversized shirt, eyes shut in concentration, exhaling slowly. Within record time, his heart raced like a Formula 1 driver.
Oh, God! Was this it? Was it finally happening?
He leapt out of bed, running to kneel by your side. “Honey? Are you alright? Are you having contractions?”
“Yeah, I think so” you panted, followed by a long groan. Up close, he could see the flush on your cheeks, and the baby hairs stuck to your forehead. This had clearly been going on for a while.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, tone full of worry.
“You have a big day tomorrow. I didn’t want to disturb you unless I knew for sure. Grounding you also means grounding Phoenix. I didn’t want to do that to you two.” It all came out in one quick breath.
“Baby, you are the most important person in my life. And they’ll find a sub that can fly with Phoenix. You are my priority.”
Bob’s words helped you relax a little. “Okay” you whispered. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it” Bob kissed your forehead. “Tell me what you are feeling.”
Feeling the pain subside, you straightened up a little. “My stomach and back cramps up, and it radiates down my legs.” You rested your hands on your thighs for support. “Remember in birthing class when they said the baby drops lower and it can feel like walking with a ball between your legs?” Bob nodded, searching your face. “Yeah, it feels like that.”
“Okay” he nodded again, more decidedly this time. “Let me help you down, I’ll make you something to eat and then call the hospital.”
After getting himself in some sweats and a t-shirt, he helped you put on a pair of maternity shorts and guided you downstairs. With him by your side, you managed to time your contractions as he cooked.
“They’re not regular yet” you said, still bouncing on the ball Bob brought downstairs for you. The smell of food wafted from the plate and your stomach growled. “Thank god!” you exclaimed gratefully as you took the plate from his hands. Scrambled eggs, topped with chives and chili flakes. And a piece of sourdough toast with peanut butter. Just the way you liked it. “You’re the best!” You immediately started munching on the food.
Every time a contraction started, Bob made a note in your shared app and took the plate from you so you could ride it out. He placed the plate on the coffee table and reached over to apply counter pressure, the way the women in birthing class had showed him.
The pain seized your entire body, radiating in a way that felt inhumane. Letting out a long groan, you grasped at anything within reach for balance. A sheen of sweat covered your body, your hair falling loose from the bun you carelessly pulled it into.
“Remember to breathe” Bob reminded you gently, still massaging your back.
As the pain subsided again, you checked your phone to update the app. A small notification popped up. “I think it’s time to call” you said, voice slightly out of breath.
Time read 4:23 am when you were finally admitted to a room. Bob helped you pace back and forth, standing firmly as you leaned on him, screaming profanities into the air. He spoke to the nurses when you couldn’t, called your mother for you, refilled your plastic cup with ice chips, held the bowl when you threw up from the harshest contraction yet, didn’t say a word when your amniotic fluid splashed all over the floor when your water finally broke mid-contraction. You could see in his eyes that he was as nervous as you were, but when you cried that you were exhausted, that you didn’t know if you could do this, that you were so scared, he was the first to assure you, to kiss your forehead and tell you how strong you were.
This level of pain was something you had never experienced before. When you were finally fully dilated, Bob and the nurses helped you into the stirrups. Contraction after contraction, you pushed within an inch of your life to bring your baby into the world. Sweat poured down your body, pooling in every crevice imaginable. Bob held you close, dabbed your forehead with a wet cloth and fed you ice chips whenever you needed them.
Your heart beat harshly in your chest, working overtime to sustain your body. Exhaustion heavied you into the bed, but when the midwife announced that she could see the head, and Bob whispered in your ear that you could do this, you channeled what little strength you had left and pushed.
A shrill scream erupted in the room as your baby made its entrance into the world. Every imaginable emotion tore through you as tears of relief streamed down your cheeks. Your entire body shook as Bob both cried and laughed next to you.
“It’s a girl!” the midwife announced, toweling off the small bundle before placing her gently in your arms.
“Oh my god” Bob whispered, completely in awe. His cheeks were flushed, eyes red, and he was smiling like he had never seen anything more beautiful. “He have a daughter…” He leaned in to press a long kiss to your lips. “Well done, my love. I’m so proud of you.”
“Dad, would you like to do the honors?” he midwife asked. Bob cut the cord with the precision of someone who had waited his entire life to become a father.
XXX
Two days later, you entered the house, three people, for the first time. It was surreal, overwhelming, and so full of love.
You fed your daughter in the rocking chair placed by the window in the nursery, whilst Bob sat in the other, watching you, eyes brimming with love. The decision to put two rocking chairs in the nursery was definitely one of your favorites. There was nothing like the feeling of sitting there together, basking in the feeling of your new family. Sure, you were exhausted, and you wore a diaper matching the baby’s. But you wouldn’t change a thing.
Bob gently took her from your arms after she was finished. He paced back and forth slowly, coaxing a burp from the cooing little girl. You simply rocked in the chair, watching the scene with a tired smile.
After a while, your husband placed your daughter in the crib, kneeling beside it. “See this, Peanut?” he asked quietly, voice so soft and devoted. He pointed to the mobile gently spinning above the little girl. “That there is the sun, and there is a cloud, and a snowflake. That’s a rainbow.” You chuckled at the way your baby gurgled quietly in response. “Daddy bought this for you. You see, daddy has a job that requires him to sometimes be away for a while. But remember, I will always love you, and I will always be there for you. So, daddy bought this mobile so that when you’re falling asleep at night, you can see the same things he does when he’s flying with Auntie Nat.”
Oh god… There really was no one like him. And in this moment you knew, once and for all, that Madeline Floyd was going to grow up surrounded by so much love, with a family and friends that would do anything to provide her with security. And right now, life was absolutely perfect.
Author's note: Did I name the baby Madeline to give the Madeline of another universe the Lewis Pullman-character father she deserves? Maybe. I'm not crying, you're crying.
#top gun#top gun maverick#robert floyd#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#smut fic#top gun smut#top gun maverick smut
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"while he bites on his necklace so it won't hit my face,"
___________________________________________
It was your usual weekend night where you would found yourself loafing at the coach, wrapped in your favorite thick blanket while watching an episode of a Netflix show you've been keeping fermented in your watchlist for months.
And you did all of these while missing your boyfriend.
It's been about two months since Kwon Soonyoung enlisted to the military in the active duty services. He would contact you sometimes but it has grown lesser and lesser these day. Not that you're complaining as you have grow accustomed to it.
Though it's pretty difficult for you to adapt since he's the type to overshare almost everything and anything related to his life, so your daily seems a bit empty without all of his useless TMI he thought you need to know.
As the show reached the mid mark of the episode that even you had started to yawn, you heard the sound of your security keypad beeping from the outside.
What the hell?
You froze on the couch, heart racing before you whipped your head towards the door.
Robber? No. Why would a robber enter a house by entering your house passcode?
Then, a stalker? Damn it!
You urged yourself to think fast as you launched yourself to your feet and slowly padded towards a corner where a baseball bat was resting against the wall of your home. Perfect weapon for a self-defense, you thought.
The door creaked open and you had your bat out ready to welcome whoever intruder passing through the door with a pounding chest.
Only for you to caught yourself frozen in the next minute.
Because there he is, Soonyoung stood in the doorway, one duffel bag in one hand. He was still in his tight olive green that clung to his frame that you haven't touched in months, one you've been missing lately.
He looked at you like he hadn't seen sunlight in weeks. In fact, you were to him.
"Surprise," he said. "Though I would say what an interesting way to welcome me,"
You didn't say a word. The bat dropped to the floor as you walked straight towards him. The slow steps turn into a light jog as you finally launched yourself into his arms as he voluntarily threw his bag away to welcome you in.
Your arms wrapped around his nape, along with your legs tightening around his waist, clinging on him like a koala. Soonyoung chuckled before he also buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent he has been missing a lot.
"Miss me?" He asked.
"Idiot," You murmured. "More than you think,"
You barely remembered stumbling into the bedroom with your lips on each other and clothes hastily discarded to the floor. Everything was blurred until what was left is his heat and his body above you.
His rhythm was deep, slow and steady. Each thrust he drawn out like he wanted you to feel how much he missed you, how long he has waited for you and your touch against him again.
Your fingers curled into his back, nails digging deep into his now slightly tanned skins, drawing blood that cause him to hiss from time to time. Your breathe coming a little sharp at every rolls of his hip against yours.
But then you finally noticed it.
The dog tag chain that currently swinging between your bodies. You've felt its cold metal kissing the slope of your chest at first, then bouncing off your collarbone, then :
Flick!
Your cheek.
It kept swinging everytime he thrust.
Clink!
Your chin.
Clink!
Nose.
Tap.
Right on your lips.
It was so ridiculous that you let out a helpless laugh between moans. "S-Soonyoung, your tag-"
He paused to glanced down at your face, watching it swinging before it lightly smacking you on your face again.
"Oh, sorry..." He chuckled. His fingers then grabbed the chain and bit down on the tag.
Just bit it in between his teeth. You can even see his jawline slightly flexing as he did.
Your breath caught in your throat, your brain totally went short-circuited.
The tag no longer swung like it did before. It hung, tight and stretched, the metal glinting under the dim light, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to keep looking at anything else but him.
"Are you gonna focus now?"
You gasped, clutching at his shoulder.
Holy shit.
___________________________________________
A/N : yea i feel a little bit crazy after seeing that comment on tiktok. Anyway, made my debut finally yay
#svt#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#hoshi#kwon soonyoung#hoshi x reader#hoshi imagines#soonyoung x reader#hoshi drabbles#hoshi smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic
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୨୧ — "Sweetheart, you really are such a desperate thing, aren't you?" Nanami murmurs, his thumb brushing away the tear that trickles down your cheek before leaning in to kiss you softly.
The ache inside you was almost unbearable- a desperate, clawing need that’s been building since the moment you heard he barely survived Shibuya… The relief that flooded through you when Shoko said he was coming home nearly brought you to your knees.
Now, sitting across his lap in his chair, you can hardly breathe with how badly you’ve missed him- the dampness between your legs a clear sign of how badly you need him... Every part of you trembling, embarrassed how you can't control the sob that slips between your lips against his as he presses his strong thigh between yours.
Your fingers trace the burns covering half his chest, the remnants of the cursed flames that nearly took him from you forever. Shoko said his left eye would never see again, the damage too severe. But you didn’t care. You didn’t give a damn about his half burned body or the new scars that map across him… Visible reminders of how close you came to losing him in Shibuya.
Pulling back just enough to see your face, Nanami’s remaining eye searches yours- the question obvious.
Are you sure you want this?
Your eyes meet his as you nod, your grip on him tightening as if afraid he'll slip away again… that somehow you're only dreaming and will wake up alone and brokenhearted- the answer clear.
Nanami’s smile was gentle but strained, a shadow of doubt crossing his good eye as he leans forward to place the softest kiss on the tip of your nose. His hands find their way to your hips, thumbs tracing small, soothing circles against you. His one hand’s movements are slightly stiffer, pulled tight from the burn damage.
"We should take it slow," his voice barely audible, "I don’t want to rush after-" He swallows hard, glancing down at his scarred chest, "…After everything… I’m not… I’m not the same man who left that morning. This body is..."
You can feel his hesitation, the way he tenses beneath you, and for the very first time you see shame in his eye- ashamed of what Shibuya had done to him. Half his body disfigured, twisted in pinks and reds- raw in some spots…
You find yourself slowly rolling your hips against him without thought, seeking closeness, seeking proof he’s really here before resting your forehead against his marred shoulder, "Don’t want slow," you murmur, "Want to feel everything, Kento. The ache from the stretch, the way you fill me, the drag of your cock-" You pause as his breath catches, a shudder running through his body at your neediness despite coming back to you looking the way he did... "The proof that it’s really you inside me."
His damaged hand trembles as it moves to cup your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him, "I can’t promise it’ll be perfect like befo-"
"I don’t want perfect," you whisper, grinding down harder against him, feeling him hardening despite his doubts, "I want you. Scars, limitations, all of it… Want every inch of you that survived and came back to me."
Nanami is silent for a moment, remains still for a heartbeat as he absorbs your words. His damaged fingers find the underside of your breast, "I can’t feel you the same," he admits, "but God, I want to try…"
Taking hold of your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck before lifting you as though you’re made of precious glass, the strength in his arms -even the one damaged by burns- a reminder of everything he is- your protector, your lover, your home.
The mattress dips beneath your weight as he lays you down with such tender care, "Look at me," he commands softly, hovering above you. And when your eyes meet his, he takes your hand in his scarred one and places it over his heart, "Feel that?"
He waits for you to nod- to say yes… For you to feel the thumping beneath your palm.
Your words catch in your throat, unable to speak, tears threatening to spill again as he continues- watching as his head dips to your neck, placing soft kisses there. His lips brush against the shell of your ear, the tip of his nose nuzzling your temple, and the heat of his breath caressing your cheek as he speaks, "Tell me, my love. Do you feel it?"
"Y-Yes." Your eyes flutter close for a moment, savoring the feeling of his heart beating against your palm.
"I’m here." he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to each fingertip as his other hand moves to the zipper of his trousers, "And I promise you that i'm not going anywhere ever again. This is where I belong. With you. Awlays."
#Nanami Kento#Nanami#nanami kento smut#nanami fluff#kento nanami smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#x reader#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#jjk nanami#nanami kento x reader#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami drabbles#nanami smut#kento nanami#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#nanami x reader
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heaven | ln4



summary: loving you was easy to him, like second nature, like breathing. and it’s finally time for you to know.
warnings: nothing but heart clenching, feet kicking, and giggling into your pillow fluff. this is kind of short (i apologize 🥲) but nonetheless the lando brainrot has been back in full swing!
💌 - message from jordan: hi guys! long time no see :,) this came to me while watching the race yesterday morning, and beings im a sucker for a toothache-inducing-sweet romance, i figured this would be the perfect comeback fic. nothing too crazy with this one, but i still hope you enjoy, nonetheless <3 i’ve missed you all v much and i can’t wait to post some more of the things ive been working on while i was away! sending you all my love, always. talk soon! 🤍
masterlist | inbox
the filtered sunlight from the curtains in the hotel room casted shadows that illuminated the sleeping boy’s face next to you. his face was squished against the pillow, an arm lazily thrown across your stomach. he was always finding a way to be touching you, even when he was unconscious.
you watched as he slept peacefully next to you, tan skin a contrast against the bright white sheets. he had finally reached a break in his busy schedule, two weeks of having him all to yourself. he had even gone the extra mile and decided to take you on a little getaway, somewhere where it was just the two of you. alone. making up for the time he had spent away from you.
his curls were messy on the top of his head, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and brushing them from his forehead. however, you slightly started to regret it when you felt him move next to you, a soft sigh leaving his lips. not out of annoyance, but out of comfort at the feeling of having your nails scratch his scalp.
“like what you see?”
his morning voice was raspy and sleep coated and hot. you couldn’t help the smile growing on your face as he blinked his eyes open, squinting at you in the bright room as he tried to get his eyes to adjust.
you nodded, your fingers now trailing down the side of his face and resting on his cheek, your thumb tracing over one of your favorite moles that littered his skin, “always.”
he leaned into your touch, smiling sleepily at you before pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, humming as his eyes searched yours, “missed this,”
you smiled back as he pulled you closer towards him, giggling as you nuzzled your head into his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head, “me too.”
lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair as you took in the smell of his leftover cologne that clung to his skin. you two laid like that for a while, basking in the feeling of having each other close after the weeks he had been all over the world. you knew what you were signing up for when he asked you on your first date a few months back, but you were certain that each time he left, it was only harder and harder to let him go.
you adjust your body so you could look up at him, his eyes meeting yours again. you smiled, thinking back to the very first date you had ever went on. how he had asked your friends what your favorite flower was so he could bring them to dinner. how he always managed to make you feel like the only person in the room. always gentle, even after a bad day. he made you feel valuable. seen, heard, loved.
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling softly down at you, “what’s going on in that pretty little head?”
you sucked in a breath, “just thinking about you, about us,”
a hint of worry flashed through his eyes and you immediately clarified, “not in a bad way! i swear,”
he raised his eyebrow, playing with some strands of your hair slightly, “what is it then?”
you sucked in a breath, a feeling in your chest rising that you couldn’t quite describe, “i love you, lan.”
his eyes traveled back to yours immediately, the three words neither of you said before now ringing in his ears. he had known for a while now that you were the one for him. he had never felt this way about anyone before, never felt the need to settle like he does with you. with you, he pictures the white picket fence dream. the house, the kids, and hell, even the dog he had always talked about getting when the time was right.
you made him feel like he had found the missing piece to the puzzle that was his soul. and he was yours, too.
he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. the usual witty, jokester brit now all of sudden feeling a sense of realism. this was his future, the woman laying in front of him. the one he got to call his own. the woman he loved.
“i love you,” hearing him say it back made your heart clench in your throat, “more than anything in the world.”
you reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your lips, kissing him with as much love and passion you could shove in it. he kissed you back, sweetly and slowly. just like he always had, but this time it felt different. it felt like page turning to a new chapter of his life. the chapter he desperately wanted to share with you.
you giggled into his mouth when his hands found your hips, pulling you on top of him. the material of his shirt from the night before meeting his bare chest, legs tangled under the covers. you had pulled away to catch a breath, running your hands through his hair, nothing but love filled gazes staring right back at each other.
his own little slice of heaven.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris x reader fluff#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x reader fluff#fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#ln4 mcl#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#fluff imagine
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newlywed!rafe comes home drunk after his bachelor’s party …
tw ; cnc + somno as requested! MDNI 18+ SPACE ONLY!
it was long past 12am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes open any longer, although rafe told you not to wait up, you tried anyway. in his shirt, no panties or bra, just eager to please like a good little wife. you knew tonight was his night, his last — before ‘settling’, like he wanted to keep celebrating his freedom while you were already caged…
“don’t miss me too much, mrs. cameron” he snickered before leaving, placing a kiss to your temple and smacking your ass as he made his way towards the door. your lips parted to scold him, but you just giggled and blushed instead, not wanting to ruin the moment.
it was pushing 4am when rafe came stumbling in, tossing his keys onto the floor, not bothering to even set them down properly. he already had you on his mind, kicking his shoes off, undoing his pants and button up as he made his way to your shared bedroom. when he saw you, sleeping soundly in his tee, and curled up around his pillow like it was him, his heart almost stopped. a possessive groan fell from his lips at the sight, his good girl, so sweet and vulnerable just for him.
“fuck baby, so perfect f’me, even in y’sleep..” rafe mutters, crawling ontop of you slowly, already palming his dick through his boxers, already hard, pressing into the side of your thigh. he spread your legs, slotting between them, and you still didn’t wake. stirring just a bit, your legs tightened around him before going limp again, and he just grinned. “that’s it, gonna take care you baby,” he lifted your shirt, breath catching when he sees your cunt glistening back at him, lips pink and swollen like they were calling his name.
he pushes his waistband down far enough for his full length to spring free, tip grazing your clit, and he swears he heard a moan escape your lips. “shit, pretty pussy’s been waitin’ for me, huh?” he mutters under his breath, dragging his cockhead slowly through your folds, soaking himself in your slick. one hand presses into the mattress beside your head, the other spreading your lips gently with two fingers so he can line himself up perfectly.
he eyes your face, lashes fluttering but still dead asleep, even as he pushes in, slow at first, just his thick tip splitting you open. your body gives way so easily, instinctively, like it knows him, like it’s trained to take him, even unconscious. back arching off the mattress, hips bucking into him, “fuckin’ dreamin’ about me, baby?” he grits through his teeth, gripping your hips now, dragging you down further onto him, sinking deeper inch by inch until his hips are flush against yours.
your lips part, the softest whine escaping your lips as he bottoms out, tip brushing your cervix. rafe nearly finishes at the sight of you so soft and pliant below him, his hands come up to your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest. a grunt rumbles from his throat, picking up his pace and slamming into you repeatedly, “gonna make you take it all,” he pulls your shirt up over your tits, taking one into his hand, fingers twisting your nipples between his fingers. you squirm slightly under him, he’s so deep inside you now, there’s a bulge formed in your tummy. proof of how full he has you and how much he’s stretching you open, just for him.
rafe’s hand slides down your chest, making it’s way to your stomach, pressing down just enough to feel himself rearranging your guts, “taking me so good baby, s’why i picked you, why i made you my pretty lil’ wife,” his dick twitches inside you, thrusts becoming sloppy, breath picking up, pressing down on your stomach harder making you clench around him, and that undoes him immediately. rafe watches your face twist in pleasure, hearing you gasp just barely, eyes screwed shut, “so fuckin’ fulla’ me, marking this stupid pussy hm? god baby, gonna fuckin’ cum —”
his thick, hot load shoots into you, stuffing you fuller than ever before, “shit — all mine, all fuckin’ mine,” rafe pants as he finishes deep inside you, he doesn’t ever bother to pull out, just collapses on top of you, face buried in your neck, arms wrapped tight around your waist, eyes heavy from the incredibly long night and the alcohol, “way better than that stupid ass party, i swear,” he mutters, placing one last kiss to your jaw before drifting off himself.
a/n ; errr long awaited i hope this isnt shitty </3 i lowk didnt know how to end it smh
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#꒰ྀི newlywed!rafe ꒱ྀི#rafe smut#drew starkey#tw somno
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soooo, bc of the phainon trailer can i request phainon going through the loops and having to see his lover die over and over again to the point that he’s obsessed with their safety even when the loop breaks? like i know phainon canonically doesn’t remember the previous cycles but what if he somehow always remembers how his lover dies or if not remember feels this extreme anxiety and dread that they’ll die? details r like whether or not they’re a chrysos heir is up to u! love ur work!!
Coronal Radiance
Yandere!Phainon x Reader
Maybe this time, it’ll be different.
Sometimes the memory brushes against him in dreams. Sometimes it's not even a memory at all, just a weight in his chest.
And then the cycle begins again.
He wakes in a world reset to perfection. You’re just there. An assistant to the tailor, quick with your hands. You’ve always been around.
Phainon sees you for the first time again and the feeling is like déjà vu scraped raw. There's no flash of recognition, only a stillness that stops him in his tracks, like the world is pausing to watch what he’ll do next.
You're smoothing out fabric on a table, unaware that the man you’re working for is watching you like he’s seeing a ghost.
“Phainon! Are the measurements off again?”
He blinks, the question delayed in reaching him. “No. I...”
You wait patiently.
He exhales and forces a smile. “No, it’s fine. Just distracted.”
You nod once and return to your work.
He doesn’t leave. Something about you makes it impossible.
Then the near-misses start happening.
A cart drawn by a Dromas snapping its reins in the central court. You’re walking across the stone path, balancing two bundles of scrolls in your arms. The animal charges. It’s not aiming for you. But something about the angle, it should have crushed you.
Phainon is there before he can think. His hand grabs your wrist, yanks you clear as the cartwheels scream past.
“I’m fine.” you say, brushing your robe down. “I wasn’t even in the way.”
“You were.”
Later that month, Aglaea uncovers a plot, fragments of sabotage from Caenis’ faction. Petty political rivalry, nothing fatal. But when Phainon overhears the details, one name jumps out. Yours.
“You seem to attract this weirdly unlucky aura.” he tells you one day.
You blink up from your notes. “Is that your way of saying I look tired?”
“I mean it” he says, more serious now. “You’re always where something almost goes wrong.”
“That’s just coincidence.”
Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not. But every time he turns away from you now, a part of him stays behind, watching.
He starts walking you back to your quarters after dusk. He rearranges the route of processions so you’re not near open balconies.
You died again. The war hadn’t been kind to anyone, but to you, it had been merciless. You bled out in his arms. He’d called your name until his voice cracked, swearing the stars to stop time, begging fate to undo what it always seemed so eager to repeat. But it didn’t listen.
---
Now here he is again, standing in the garden near the reflecting pools, the morning sun caught in his hair, his thoughts somewhere else entirely.
You call his name twice.
“Phainon?”
He startles. His eyes blink back to the present—to you, standing a few steps away, holding a folded robe meant for the festival ceremony later that day.
There’s something in your expression that softens him. That familiar steadiness. That echo of something he’s always chasing.
“I love you.”
The words fall out of him like water slipping through cupped hands.
“…What?”
“I love you” he repeats, this time quieter, as if realizing he doesn’t quite know why he said it. “I mean—You.. I—I just thought you should know.”
The moment thickens. You open your mouth, not quite sure what to say.
“…Is something the matter?” you ask carefully. “Why now?”
He looks at you, eyes wide like he’s just heard thunder. Then, to your absolute confusion, he turns on his heel and runs straight out of the garden. You’re left there with the robe still in your arms.
You bring it up later. Aglaea nearly chokes on her tea when you mention the confession, which is rare to see. Castorice looks up at you.
“I’m not joking” you say, “He ran off right after. He didn’t even give me time to say anything.”
Aglaea folds her arms. “He likes you. That much is obvious.”
“I thought he didn’t like me, half the time.” you admit with a small laugh.
Aglaea eyes you over the rim of her cup. “He’s been strange lately.”
“It’s not a bad thing.” Castorice says gently. “Maybe it’s something he’s only just realizing. And even if it’s not fully clear to him yet… does it bother you?”
You hesitate.
Aglaea leans in. “You don’t have to decide right away. But you should think about it.”
You nod slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the memory of him.
You found him among the stalls at Marmoreal market, half-hidden behind a vendor cart stacked with dyed silks. He looked startled when you waved.
“Ah… hi.”
You smiled, still thinking of his confession, unsure what to make of it. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“No, no—it’s fine. I was just… distracted.” His voice gentled, and he looked genuinely apologetic. “About the other day—I was rushed. It wasn’t fair to spring it on you like that.”
“You said what you felt. I don’t mind.”
He seemed relieved, the tension in his shoulders loosening. After that, you walked together without much fanfare, weaving through the market’s afternoon bustle. He helped you carry bundles—paper, thread, fruit wrapped in leaves—back toward your place.
When you reached your door, something tugged at your memory.
“Oh, wait here,” you told him, setting your bag down. “I made something for you a while ago.”
“You… did?”
You disappeared inside for a moment, then came back holding a small charm: a braided cord with tiny silver disks and a polished stone, shaped like a crescent.
You held it out. “For luck. You always seem like you’re bracing for something awful.”
He took it slowly, as if it might vanish from his hands.
The moment his fingers closed around it, something inside him cracked. The charm was unfamiliar, and yet...
“This is…”
You tilted your head. “Too much?”
“No.” He shook his head quickly. “It’s… It’s perfect. Thank you.”
That night, sleep didn't come easily for him. When it finally did, it dragged him into a void he couldn’t name. Your voice, calling him from somewhere he couldn’t reach. When he woke, he didn’t remember what he saw, only that his heart wouldn’t stop racing.
The next morning, he was summoned by Aglaea at first light.
The moment he stepped in and saw her face, he knew.
“There was an incident. They found Y/N .. killed.”
He just stood there, still holding the charm you’d given him the night before.
No one had seen the attacker.
When war came, he welcomed it. It was something to bleed into.
Aglaea died. Castorice too. The sky cracked open.
The cycle reset. He stood in a familiar place. And there you were.
Light streamed through the high windows of the fitting chamber, dust dancing through the beams.
You stood on a low platform behind Phainon, arms stretched just slightly as you tried to wrap the measuring cord across his shoulders.
“Hold still.” you murmured, tiptoeing just a little.
Aglaea had given you specific instructions this time. So you followed, noting down the numbers, marking fabric samples. And every now and then, you glanced at him.
His eyes followed you. His breathing shifted when you came too close.
You reached up again, this time to measure the length from his collarbone down to the hem.
“I’ll protect you.”
You looked up at him. “You always protect people.”
He shook his head slowly. “It’s not the same.”
“Phainon-”
“I know I’m strange lately,” he said, “I don’t know why. But when I look at you, I feel like I’ve already failed you once.”
“So from now on… I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do.”
A part of you wanted to brush the strange act off, but something told you not to.
“…All right. Do as you wish.”
But Phainon couldn’t always be there.
As the Chrysos Heir, he bore the lives of many people.
You are a normal person while he has this responsibility of facing great danger.
But still, you anchored him.
You were never far from his thoughts. You were in the letters he never sent. In the lucky charm he kept beneath his robes. In the soft memory of someone whose voice helped him remember he wasn’t just a weapon.
And then, it ended. In victory.
No more do-overs.
He came back in the early morning. He passed the market, the streets that had once echoed with chaos, now filled with survivors trying to piece their world back together.
Then he saw you.
You were kneeling by a collapsed pillar, offering a drink of water to a wounded child, dust smudged across your cheek, your sleeves rolled up as you helped the others clear rubble.
To him, you were everything.
For one brief moment, he waited for you to vanish.
You didn’t.
You looked up, confused by the sudden sound of feet pounding over stone and barely had time to register him before he was there, wrapping his arms around you.
“What—?”
He didn’t answer. Just held you tighter.
“You’re back” you murmured, one hand slowly rising to rest against his shoulder. “You really did it.”
“You’re still here.”
Even after the loop was broken, the nightmares never stopped.
Every night, Phainon saw you die again.
He’d wake with his heart in his throat, drenched in sweat, breath ragged like he was still mid-battle.
By day, he tried to act as if the peace had settled into him. He came to see you often, sometimes with the excuse of errands, sometimes for tea that neither of you remembered to drink.
But mostly, he just came to be near you.
He didn’t want to burden you with the weight of those dreams, or the guilt he couldn't explain. But one evening, he looked at you and said:
“I don’t think I’ve told you this properly….”
“Told me what?”
“That I love you,” he said. “And I want to be with you.”
You’d known, in various ways. In the way he lingered at your door. In the way his fingers sometimes trembled when you touched his sleeve.
“I know. And… I love you too.”
From that day on, you were together. You shared your days. You reminded him to eat. He walked you home.
But peace didn’t come easily to him.
That night, the dream came again.
You, reaching for him. The shadow behind you. A blade glinting in the dark.
He woke gasping.
He ran out, down the stone corridors, through alleys still carrying the scent of rain, all the way to your door.
He knocked. Loud enough to stir you.
You opened the door with sleep still on your face. “Phainon…?”
He stepped in and took you by the arms, searching every corner of the room. “You’re in danger. He was behind you—”
“There’s no one here..” you yawned. “Look.”
He did. There was no shadow but his own.
You placed your hand on his cheek. “See? I'm fine.”
His breath slowed beneath your touch.
“You can stay.” you said, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. “You look terrible, you know that.”
You pulled a blanket around his shoulders and watched as the tension slowly left him. He laid down, eyes still locked on you, as if making sure you wouldn’t vanish the moment he blinked.
You curled beside him.
And this time, he slept.
He stirred before the sun rose, the blankets bunched around him in restless folds. When he opened his eyes, his first thought wasn’t relief.
It was guilt.
He sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then he looked at you, still sleeping, your arm draped loosely beside him.
He’d made you worry again.
When you woke, you found him already up.
“You look better.”
He nodded once.
“…Are you leaving?”
“Well, I thought I should let you rest. You need space too, right?”
Right?
-----
Later, at his place, he washed his face, trying to soothe the burn behind his eyes. The mirror in front of him clouded slightly with steam. A flicker. A second face behind his.
“You’re letting Y/N go.” his own voice, “Do you really think they’ll be safe out there?”
He spun around.
No one.
Just the small chamber, the open window, the bowl of half-wet herbs still on the counter.
His hands were shaking. He gripped the edge of the basin to steady himself. “It’s not real...” he murmured to himself. “It’s not real.”
But the question echoed anyway. What if it was right?
Days passed.
You didn’t hear from him.
It wasn’t like him to disappear. Phainon had always been bright, even at his most exhausted, he’d never gone silent.
Worried, you returned to his place.
You knocked. No answer.
“Phainon?”
You pressed the door open, and the moment you did, your heart sank.
The place was dim, incense left half-burned. You found him collapsed near the far wall, slumped beside shattered ceramic. There was blood on his arm. His hands were trembling as he tried to press a cloth to the wound.
You rushed over, kneeling beside him. “Phainon!—”
His eyes fluttered open, hazy with pain and half-delirium. “…Y/N?”
“I’m here” you said, taking the cloth from him and pressing it tight to stop the bleeding. “What happened? Did something attack you?”
He shook his head. “No. I wasn’t careful.”
He didn’t resist as you worked, wrapping the wound, inspecting for glass or deeper damage. He winced but never pulled away.
You finished binding his arm. When you looked up, he was watching you.
“I saw something,” he said hoarsely. “In the mirror.”
You waited.
“It said… you’d die if I let you out of my sight.”
Gently, you reached out and held his face in your hands.
“That's nonsense. I'm still alive.” you said
His eyes filled, not with tears, but with exhaustion. With that silent ache that comes after too many days of holding everything in.
He leaned forward, head resting against your shoulder.
“I don’t know how to stop it...”
You didn’t have the answer. But you held him tighter.
You had done everything right. You stayed. You treated his wounds. You reminded him to eat and sleep, and he did.
He’d leaned into your care like someone who had forgotten how to rest. His fever had faded, the color returned to his face.
The first time you stood to leave, just to fetch something from the next room, his voice stopped you cold.
“Where are you going?”
You turned. “Just to the front hall. I left my bag there.”
He was already rising from his seat. “Don’t.”
“Phainon, I’ll just be a moment—”
“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “Stay.”
It wasn’t anger in his voice. It was fear.
You humored him at first. You stayed.
But it didn’t stop there.
At night, he began locking the door from the inside after you fell asleep.
You noticed first when you tried to step out for water and the handle wouldn’t turn. The second night, it was the same. The third, you didn’t even try.
You noticed it first with the cup.
You always left it on the counter by the sink, handle turned to the left. That morning, the handle faced the right.
And the charm. The little silver talisman you’d given Phainon months ago, the one he used to keep in his bedside drawer, now hung from a cord around his neck. Even when he slept.
You waited until breakfast to say anything.
"Did you move things around?" you said.
He paused. His eyes met yours, then dropped to his hands.
"I needed to know where everything was." he said. "Just… in case."
"I think I should stay at my own place for a few days."
"No." he said.
You stood anyway. "Phainon, this isn’t—"
His hand caught your wrist to stop you.
"You can’t leave! If you go, something bad happens. It always does."
His grip didn’t tighten. But you didn’t pull away.
For a long moment, the only sound was the clock on the wall, ticking.
“Please let go,” you said softly. “You’re hurting me.”
His grip loosened, but instead of stepping back, he reached for you again, both arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed his forehead against your chest.
“Please don’t go.”
Your hands hovered in the air.
“Please don’t go. Please. Please don’t go.”
He repeated it over and over, voice smaller with each repetition, curling further into you like you were the last thing holding him.
You stood there, frozen in the moment, your tears falling quietly into his hair as his clung to you. You wanted to run. But more than that, you wanted to help him come back.
Phainon was different during the day.
He stuck to you like a second shadow—always within reach. A hand on your waist when you turned, fingers brushing your cheek before you could speak. He kissed you softly, suddenly, like he needed the reminder that you were still there.
“Good morning” he murmured, his lips already stayed at your temple.
You hadn’t even finished yawning yet.
When you tried to sit alone, he’d quietly lay his head in your lap. When you stood, he rose too, never letting more than a few steps separate you.
At first, it was sweet.
Until it became exhausting.
You never had a moment to yourself.
When you asked for space, he just smiled and changed the subject.
“Can you help me with this?” “Remember when we...?” “Let’s rest for a while.”
You started to realize he knew what you were thinking.
He kept you busy.
He always noticed when you looked toward the door.
One night, as you tended to his wounds, you hesitated. "Maybe Castorice or Mydei could—"
He went very still.
"If you call them," he said quietly, "I’ll kill them."
Your heart stilled.
He just stared at you, dead calm.
You stepped back.
And then, his face crumpled. “No—no, I didn’t mean that” he whispered, voice cracking as he reached for you again, “I didn’t—I don’t want to hurt anyone, I swear—Please don’t look at me like that.”
The fear was too thick in your throat.
So he kissed your hands, your forehead, pulled you close like he was drowning.
“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t leave.”
Later, you pretended to sleep. You heard the rustling.
When you cracked your eyes open, he was unwrapping the bandage on his arm—the wound barely healed. A jagged shard of glass glinted in his fingers.
You sat up in a rush. “What are you doing?”
“You weren’t looking at me.”
You rushed to him, grabbing his wrist before he could press it to his skin. “Stop—stop!”
“It’s the only way I’ll know you care.”
“I do care” you said. “But this isn’t... Phainon, just calm down.”
He cupped your cheek with his other hand. “You're all I have left.”
Someone had come to the door, grateful for Phainon’s help, bearing a gift. But in the dim light, with his mind already fraying, he didn’t see a friend.
He saw a threat.
By the time you heard the noise, it was already over.
You found him in the washroom, scrubbing red from his hands. The water ran pink.
Phainon saw it, the reflection in the mirror.
"You did the right thing."
Phainon nodded.
You saw the blood on his sleeve.
"You hurt yourself again?"
He turned to you. "It’s fine... Everything’s fine."
He believed it.
And when he took your hand later, leading you back to bed, his grip was steady.
He was doing the right thing.
He had to be.
#yandere x reader#yandere#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#hsr x you#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr x reader#phainon hsr#hsr phainon#phainon#phainon x reader#phainon honkai star rail
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nanami isn’t used to missing people.
he’s used to silence, to routine, to the quiet clink of glass when he pours himself a drink at the end of a long day. he’s used to closing doors without hesitation and waking up without waiting for a message. there’s a rhythm to solitude that he’s memorized over the years—efficient, measured, safe.
but lately, it’s all offbeat. especially now, miles away from home, in a hotel room that smells too clean, surrounded by unfamiliar buildings and a language that only half makes sense to him. the bed is too wide. the silence too loud. and it’s not the time difference or the jet lag or even the goddamn cursed spirit that’s giving him a headache—it’s you.
it sneaks up on him slowly. the way his hand twitches towards his phone every hour. the way he keeps thinking about how your laugh sounds when you’re half-asleep and trying to argue about breakfast. the way he remembers, in perfect clarity, how you looked that morning he left—hair messy, eyes still soft with sleep, all pliant and naked and completely open for him, your voice a little hoarse as you told him, “come back soon, ‘kay?”
and he’d said something like “don’t I always?” but it didn’t come out as steady as he’d hoped.
now, three days into this mission, he’s starting to feel unhinged in a way he can’t explain.
nothing dangerous. nothing dramatic. just this low, gnawing ache in his chest whenever he remembers you’re not waiting for him at the end of the day. no warm presence sliding up to him on the couch. no familiar weight pressed to his side in bed. no idle fingers tugging at his tie or reaching under his shirt just because you like to feel his skin. no voice telling him about your day. no you.
he stares at his phone again. contemplates texting you. he’s already called once. last night. just to hear your voice. just to say he made it safely and not much else. you’d sounded sleepy, but happy. soft and slow like always when you miss him but don’t want to say it outright. you’d said, “i hate sleeping without you,” and he’d gone quiet for a moment too long, trying not to let it show in his voice how badly he wanted to say, me too.
it’s not like him, this… missing. it’s not obsessive. not irrational. just constant. heavy. like a second heartbeat that drums just beneath his skin whenever he’s not near you. he’s never needed anyone before. never wanted to need someone. but god, he thinks now, as he sits alone with the dim glow of the bedside lamp flickering over tired eyes—he needs you.
he doesn’t sleep well. never does when you’re not next to him. his body forgets how to settle. his mind races too fast. he wakes up tense and irritated, the sheets twisted around him, and for a second, half-dreaming, he reaches across the mattress for you. his hand finds only cold fabric.
“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, dragging it back.
the mission ends quicker than expected. he doesn’t even tell you he’s on his way back. just gets on the first available flight home and shuts off his phone on the plane. he stares out the window, thinking about your face. about how your eyes crinkle when you smile. about how your hands are always warm. about how maybe he shouldn’t wait anymore to say it out loud.
he gets home past midnight. the apartment is dark. quiet. your shoes are by the door. your cardigan draped over the back of the couch. his chest pulls tight at the sight of it. he toes off his shoes, drops his suitcase without thinking, and makes his way to the bedroom.
you’re asleep on the bed, back curled, face slack with exhaustion. the bedside lamp is still on. your phone rests on the pillow beside you—his name in your open messages. unsent: “miss you. a lot. like too much. like stupid much.” your breathing’s soft and even. you’re wearing one of his shirts. his throat clenches. everything inside him stills.
he exhales, slowly. kneels by the side of the bed and just looks at you for a while. watches the way your lashes rest against your cheeks. the way your lips part slightly with each breath. the way you shift a little, instinctively, like even asleep you can feel him near.
he brushes a hand over your hair. gentle. reverent.
“i missed you,” he whispers, almost to himself. “more than i thought i could.”
you stir, eyes fluttering open, confused and drowsy. “kento?”
“yeah,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss your temple. “i’m home.”
you blink up at him, smile blooming slow and sweet, and open your arms without a word. he doesn’t hesitate. slides into bed beside you, wraps you up in his arms, presses his face into the crook of your neck like a man who’s finally allowed to breathe.
your hands tangle in his hair. “was it bad?”
“no,” he says. “just… long.”
you kiss his cheek. “you’re home now.”
he nods. “yeah.”
and he knows, without a doubt, he’ll never let himself be gone from you for that long again. not if he can help it. because missing you is like losing parts of himself he didn’t even realize he needed—and being with you, like this, wrapped up in your warmth, breathing you in like oxygen—this is what feels like home.
#tori’s mind palace 🦦ྀི#i love you kenny#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk nanami#jjk#nanami kento fluff#nanami fluff#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami
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you chose him. and he made sure you’d never forget it
shanks x virgin younger f!reader (of age) , mdni , not proofread , wc: 2.3k , divider by @/cafekitsune
cw: loss of virginity, soft dom shanks , praise kink , oral sex (f. receiving) , size kink , there's aftercare , reader is nervous , affectionate smut overall , captain x crew dynamic
he’s been patient with you all night long.
letting you come close on your own terms — fingers brushing his arm, your thighs grazing his when you shift beside him.
the sun had long since dipped into the sea, painting the deck in deep orange before fading entirely. and now you’re here — his quarters, quiet, dark but for the faint lantern glow, your back pressed to the bedpost while you watch him, nerves tight and fluttering.
he sits at the edge, shirtless, legs spread just slightly. his good arm slung loose over his thigh. calm. grounded. but his gaze is heavy — it pins you in place without a word.
“you sure?” he murmurs, voice low and rough from the sea air. “not just curious.”
you nod once. then again — harder — when he doesn’t make a move.
“i want it to be you,” you whisper.
something flickers behind his eyes. “come here.”
you crawl over the blankets, heart thudding hard enough to feel it in your fingertips. each movement drags you closer to his warmth — closer to the steady scent of salt, masculine , to that calm, unshakable gravity that wraps around him like a tide.
his hand touches your face first — slow, deliberate. his palm is broad, thumb calloused as it traces the edge of your jaw, then your lips.
“not gonna rush you,” he says, though his fingers are already tilting your chin. “but i’m not gonna stop once we start.”
your stomach flips. the words sink in like heat, like pressure. a quiet promise, dangerous and kind.
he kisses you like he means to memorize you. full lips, slow moving. his tongue grazes yours and lingers, unhurried, until you lean in on instinct, drunk off it. your breath stutters when he deepens it — his singular hand pressing down your back, pulling you into his chest.
your legs squeeze together tight, you’re already aching, you grind into him just slightly, caught in the pull of his mouth.
he chuckles softly against your lips. “easy,” he murmurs. “we’ve got time.”
you nod, swallowing, but your pulse won’t settle.
he lays you down like you’re something precious. peels your clothes off piece by piece, his mouth trailing after each one — your collarbones, the curve of your ribs, the dip of your belly. when he reaches your panties, he hooks one finger beneath the waistband and waits for your eyes.
“let me see you.” your breath hitches. you nod. he slides them down slow, gaze darkening as he takes you in.
“fuck,” he breathes, voice rougher now. “you’re perfect.” his hand eases your legs apart. he settles between them like it’s instinct — like it’s home — and lowers his head with the reverence of worship.
his tongue touches you and your whole body jolts. "s-shanks—!”
he groans softly, palm skimming your skin, thumbs holding you open. “just let me taste you, sweetheart.”
and he does. deep, steady licks that melt your spine. he flicks your clit, dips his tongue inside you, eats you like you’re the first thing he’s wanted in days. every stroke has purpose — every movement practiced. your legs begin to tremble. your hips twitch.
he draws a sharp cry from you when he sucks your clit. “sensitive, huh?” he murmurs, his thumb dragging gently along your slick folds. “so fuckin’ sweet…”
then he slides a finger into you, careful and slow. your walls pulse at the intrusion, unfamiliar and stretching.
“still snug,” he mutters under his breath. “just like i thought.”
he curls his finger inside you, watches the way your body reacts, reads you like the sea. when you’re soaked and gasping, he adds another. his tongue finds your clit again, circling as his fingers move in tandem, deep and purposeful.
you come before you even know it’s happening.
your hips buck. your knees lock. your mouth opens on a breathless moan.
he doesn’t stop. just licks you through it, fingers working you gently as you twitch and shake. even when your legs jerk, even when the sensitivity bites.
only when you whimper, overstimulated and wrecked, does he finally pull back.
his mouth is slick with you. he wipes it with the back of his hand and smiles. “good girl.”
you’re panting, vision hazy. and then your eyes drift down. and you see it. his cock. and your lungs skip: it’s big.
thick, flushed, the head swollen and dark with need. veins line the shaft — subtle but real — pulsing as he strokes it slow, casual, like he’s in no hurry at all. it curves slightly upward, bold and heavy, resting against his lower stomach like it already knows what it’s going to do to you.
your legs squeeze together instinctively. he notices.
“you’re okay,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your cheek, your mouth, your throat. “i’ll go slow.” you nod, trembling, spread open for him.
he lines up carefully, the tip dragging through your slick, pressing to your entrance with the weight of inevitability.
“gonna feel full,” he murmurs, voice low and dark. “gonna stretch you open real nice.”
he pushes in slow: the burn hits fast — sharp at first, then duller, deeper, the kind that takes your breath away. your eyes well up. your lungs fight for air.
he stills instantly, forehead resting against yours.
“breathe, sweetheart, just breathe. you’re doin’ perfect.” you force a breath through your nose.
it hurts. but it’s good — the kind of hurt that leaves heat in its wake. the kind that fills you, makes space in your body where there was none before.
he’s only halfway in and you feel so full. stretched to your limit. “just a little more,” he groans, teeth grit. “so fuckin’ tight…”
he sinks the rest of the way in with one long, smooth thrust. your back arches. your mouth opens on a silent cry. your hands cling onto his broad shoulders like they’re the only solid thing left.
he kisses you through it. “fuck,” he rasps, barely moving. “you’re gripping me so good…”
he waits. only when you nod — tiny and trembling — does he start to move.
measured at first. his hips draw back, almost all the way, then roll back in, steady and deep. each stroke presses into the sore, tender ache inside you. each thrust makes the bed creak beneath his weight. your body trembles. your breath stutters. your pussy tightens around him.
“feels good, doesn’t it?” he mutters, thumb brushing beneath your knee as he lifts your leg, angling you wider. “feel how deep i am, sweetheart?”
you gasp, voice shaking. “shanks—i can’t—”
“you can,” he breathes, kissing the edge of your mouth. “you’re takin’ me so good. look at you—so fuckin’ beautiful like this.”
his praise wrecks you. it sinks deep, makes your cunt flutter, your thighs pull tighter around his hips. he groans, hips working into you steady and deliberate — grinding with every push to make sure you feel him in your chest.
“you don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me,” he whispers, voice nearly broken. “so warm. so fuckin’ perfect. you were made for me.”
his weight holds you down, his body heavy on yours, hips rolling low and thorough. every thrust rubs against something sharp inside — something that makes your breath catch and your back arch.
you feel the build before you even know what’s happening. sharp. blinding. sudden.
your legs shake. your belly coils tight.
“you gonna come again?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “go on, give it to me. let me feel it.”
your body obeys before your voice can. your cunt pulses hard, a cry rising loud and broken as you fall apart around him.
he groans as your body flutters and squeezes around his cock, fucking you through it, slow and unrelenting until you’re gasping, whimpering, twitching beneath him.
“fuck—just like that,” he breathes. “milk me, sweetheart, that’s it…”
his rhythm falters. you feel his arm tighten, his hips press in deep, flush against yours. his breath stutters against your neck as he groans, low and rough, and spills inside you.
you feel the warmth of it flood you. pulse after pulse, then stillness: he doesn’t move for a long time.
just holds you there — his cock still buried deep, your bodies locked together, skin slick and breath tangled.
his hand drags down your thigh, soft and grounding. he kisses your temple. your cheek. the spot beneath your jaw where your pulse still flutters wild.
“you still with me?” he murmurs. you nod. barely.
“good.” he breathes out slow. his hand strokes your hip, lazy circles. “you did so good for me.”
your voice is hoarse. “you’re done?” he chuckles, the sound warm against your shoulder. “yeah. you need rest, not more cock. think your body’s had enough for tonight.”
he pulls out slow, careful. kisses your inner thigh when you flinch from the sensitivity.
you feel his spend leak out of you — sticky, hot. his fingers return with a cloth, wiping gently, murmuring soft apologies when you whimper from the soreness.
when he’s done, he tugs you into him: your back against his chest, the blankets pulled around you both. “you okay?” he asks again, voice quiet. you nod. “mmm..jus' sore.”
he smiles against your shoulder. “that’s ‘cause you were so fuckin’ tight. don’t worry—you’ll be walkin’ fine by morning. maybe.”
you laugh, barely. he kisses your shoulder again.
then he holds you, one arm tucked firm around your waist, like nothing in the world could shake it loose, and for once, you believe — believe he won’t.
you let your eyes flutter closed, warm and aching in his embrace. then it hits you — how loud the bed must’ve been, creaking under every slow thrust.
you bury your face in his chest, already dreading the smug looks you’ll get tomorrow.
#okay lets ignore how i wrote a whole paragraph describing his cock 😄😁😆#IM SO PROUD OF THIS#my job in the op community#is to bring more shanks content#faye!writes#shanks x reader#red haired shanks#shanks#one piece shanks#one piece men#one piece#red haired shanks x reader#shanks x you#figarland shanks#shanks smut#one piece smut#shanks one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x you
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still, in paris
⊹ overview - pairing: mingyu x f!reader genre: slice of life · fluff · contemporary · slow burn · lighthearted tone themes: casual romance, soft humor, text-based narrative cw: brief mentions of social anxiety, implied fame context, sfw
summary: you didn’t plan to meet mingyu in paris. and you definitely didn’t plan for a blurry photo, one conversation, and a few late-night texts to turn into the internet’s favorite theory. but maybe the truth is even stranger: quiet, funny, and almost real.
from kai: got this idea after mingyu and sexyy red's moment at the pfw afterparty lol twitter wouldn't stop talking about it. started as a one-shot, but their chemistry was too good… now i'm lowkey tempted to make it longer. not sure yet. let me know what you think!
now playing: paris, texas - lana del rey
you’re not used to this.
the flashing lights, the screams, the chaotic elegance of fashion week in paris. sure, you’ve done premieres and panels before. your netflix series blew up way more than anyone expected, and suddenly your face was everywhere. streaming numbers through the roof. interviews. magazine covers. your face on a billboard near times square.
but this? this is dior.
they flew you out. they dressed you like a dream. they made you sit front row. you smiled, you posed, you pretended you weren't internally freaking out.
because deep down, you still feel like that girl who watched fashion shows at 2am, dreaming about stuff like this. and maybe you’re still that girl. just with better eyeliner and a driver waiting outside.
you make it through the show without tripping or passing out. success.
then someone mentions the afterparty and you’re like... okay. sure. why not. you’ll go. stay twenty minutes. do your duty. leave with grace and dignity and maybe a tiny dessert in your purse.
it’s crowded. obviously. but beautiful. soft lighting. velvet everything. a lot of cheek kisses and air-sipping cocktails. the kind of party where people look bored on purpose.
you’re standing near the back, halfway through a glass of something sparkling and expensive, when you see him. and by “see him,” you mean feel the atoms in the room shift slightly.
he walks in like it’s no big deal. which maybe it isn’t, to him. he’s mingyu. people know him. tall and glossy and casually perfect. wearing something you’re sure costs more than your rent, but it doesn’t even look like he’s trying. you’re not even a hardcore carat, but you’ve seen enough seventeen content to know that he’s funny and clumsy and surprisingly shy for someone that handsome.
you glance. once. okay, maybe twice.
you tell yourself that’s it.
until someone says, “oh, mingyu! this is y/n.”
and your heart tries to climb out of your chest.
he smiles like it’s easy. like he does this all the time. “hi,” he says. “i watched your show.”
you blink. “seriously?”
“yeah,” he says, sipping something clear. “i binged it on a flight.”
you weren’t expecting that. “you watched my show on a plane?”
he shrugs, almost sheepish. “i needed something good. ended up watching the whole thing.”
your mouth opens slightly, like your brain’s buffering.
“that’s… wild,” you say finally. “you watched me act while trapped at thirty thousand feet.”
he laughs. “and liked it.”
you manage to hold eye contact, just barely. “thank you.”
he nods. “you were great. the whole cast was. but yeah, you stood out.”
you try not to smile too much, but it slips through anyway.
“well,” you say, “i’m a fan of yours too.”
he tilts his head a little, amused. “really?”
“really,” you nod. “you’re very good at what you do.”
his gaze softens, just slightly. “thanks.”
he laughs. it’s nice. warm. and you feel oddly calm now. like maybe this is just two people who exist in the same strange world, chatting for a second.
it doesn’t last long. someone pulls him away. someone else tries to talk to you. and just like that, he’s across the room again, surrounded by people who look like they were born on red carpets.
but later, when you’re waiting for your car outside and the air is a little too cold for your dress, you catch him looking at you. just once. a glance. maybe nothing.
but you feel it.
you don’t expect the internet to feel it too.
the next morning, your name is trending.
you think, oh god, what did i say? did someone post a bad angle of me? did i spill something?
but no.
it’s a blurry pic. you and mingyu. standing close. talking. both smiling. someone zoomed in so much that it’s pixelated like a renaissance painting, but the caption says:
“what are they cooking”
another post:
“mingyu looking at her like she hung the stars HELP”
and then:
“she literally said she was a fan of him a few months ago and now they’re at the same party this is my roman empire”
you want to scream. or hide. or laugh. you do all three, kind of.
your dms are unhinged. your friend sends you a tiktok of someone doing a powerpoint presentation titled “why mingyu and y/n would make sense actually.” you text back, i talked to him for thirty seconds.
but it doesn’t matter.
people see what they want to see.
you try to ignore it. let it pass. the internet always moves on eventually, right?
you post a normal picture the next day. a croissant. the eiffel tower in the background. very chill. very “look at me being unbothered in paris.” comments are not chill.
“where is mingyu” “blink twice if it’s real” “what did you talk about PLEASE I BEG”
you don’t reply.
you just keep scrolling. wondering if maybe he saw all this too.
and then, a few nights later, it happens.
your phone lights up. unknown number.
hey. this is mingyu. i hope it’s okay i got your number from someone at the party. just saw the chaos online and thought i should say hi officially.
you sit with that for a full five minutes. you reread it like he might have changed his mind and deleted the message. but it’s still there.
you type.
hi lol yeah the internet’s kinda having a moment huh
he replies almost instantly.
mingyu i forgot how people pay that much attention to who i stand next to lol
you smile. because yeah. same.
you the internet’s wild. last week someone made a thread about how i hold my coffee cup “suspiciously”
he sends a laugh emoji.
mingyu suspicious how
you apparently i grip it like i’m about to throw it at someone
mingyu honestly that’s a power move
you both stop texting for a few minutes. maybe he’s busy. maybe you are. you don’t expect more. but then:
mingyu anyway, sorry if that’s random just made me think of it and you seemed cool
you read that twice. you seemed cool.
you don’t know why it hits the way it does, but it does. quiet, lowkey, easy.
you not random i get it you seemed cool too weirdly calm for someone being chased by cameras
mingyu lol it’s a skill built over time and mild panic
you smile, thumb hovering over your screen. you don’t ask anything else. don’t push.
later that night, when you're brushing your teeth in a hotel bathroom that smells faintly like roses and money, you check your phone one last time.
a final message from him.
mingyu just saw someone on twitter say we have “suspiciously good timing”
you what does that even mean
mingyu like every time one of us posts, the other one’s online
you we’re not special. we’re just addicted to our phones
mingyu they also said we probably have a secret handshake
you we should
mingyu something dramatic lots of finger snaps maybe a spin
you followed by complete denial that we know each other
mingyu of course professionalism
you pause for a second, then type:
you you know this only makes them worse
mingyu yeah isn’t it kind of fun though
you a little
mingyu we should give them just enough to stay confused
you like posting the same sky photo 6 minutes apart
mingyu or both pretending we love the same very specific fruit
you papaya?
mingyu chaos...
you grin at your phone.
neither of you says anything else for a while.
but you don’t leave the chat.
and neither does he.
—-----------------
you wake up to sunlight spilling through gauzy curtains and the sound of distant traffic humming under your window. your phone is on the nightstand, buzzing once with a notification, then going quiet again.
you don’t check it right away.
instead, you stretch. take your time. the sheets are soft, the kind of hotel-soft that feels too luxurious to be real. you think, briefly, about how weird this week has been. fashion week. dior. mingyu.
you smile a little. not because of him, exactly. just... the whole thing. how surreal it all feels.
you finally grab your phone. one unread message.
mingyu walked past a bakery on the way back to the hotel smelled really good made me think this city is unfairly good at mornings
you snort, already smiling.
you i haven’t even left the room yet and now i feel like i’m missing out thanks
mingyu no pressure just reporting the vibes
you noted very responsible of you
mingyu it’s a public service
you should i be worried you’re turning into a pastry influencer
mingyu depends do you think that title comes with free samples
you 100% but only if you post aesthetic overhead shots
mingyu i’ll practice with my leftover croissant though i did already take a bite i was weak
you toss your phone on the bed and head to the shower. you tell yourself you’re not thinking about whether it might buzz while you’re in there.
it’s just texting. it’s just paris. it’s fine.
when you come back out, towel in your hair, your screen lights up.
mingyu do you think the eiffel tower ever gets tired of being perceived
you deeply needs a break maybe a vacation
mingyu it should visit new york blend in for once
you take photos pretending it’s never seen a bagel
mingyu “omg first time in the big city”
you laugh out loud.
you stop i can see the caption
mingyu all lowercase. subtle filter. very aesthetic
you towercore
mingyu #tbt even though it’s live
you laugh. then leave the room and disappear into the paris streets.
you walk with no real plan. you pass tourists, locals, little dogs in sweaters, a couple arguing quietly outside a tabac. the kind of scenes that would look too scripted in any film but feel perfectly normal here.
you get spotted near the river by a girl who looks like she just stepped out of your show’s fan edits. she freezes, eyes wide, then gasps like she can't believe it's actually you.
“no way. i literally watched the entire season in two days,” she says, voice shaking slightly. “i cried. like, real tears. three times.”
you smile, surprised and touched. “that’s so sweet. thank you.”
she hesitates, then blurts, “can i hug you? i’m sorry, i just...”
you laugh softly. “yeah, of course.”
she hugs you tight. not long, but full of emotion. and when she pulls back, her eyes are glassy.
“you’re even cooler in real life,” she says.
“you’re gonna make me cry now,” you reply, still smiling.
when she’s gone, you stand there a moment longer, letting it settle. feeling a little lighter, like the day just got warmer.
how strange it is to be recognized. how stranger it is to feel... okay with it.
you’ve been walking without direction. coffee in hand, sunglasses on, trying not to overthink how quiet your phone’s been.
then, finally, you text him:
you paris keeps looking like something important is about to happen
mingyu like a plot twist?
you or a confession maybe a chase scene
mingyu i could see you in a slow-motion chase
you i’d trip over a baguette
mingyu and i’d walk past like “sorry can’t get involved”
you very realistic
mingyu very french
you pause at the edge of a crosswalk, watching the way the light turns everything peach and soft.
you every corner here feels like it has backstory
mingyu i walked past a florist this morning and got emotional
you was it the flowers
mingyu the font on the sign
you powerful
mingyu might write a song about it
you can’t wait for “bouquet in d minor”
you keep walking, grinning into your coffee, phone still in hand.
--------------------------
you have dinner plans that night but cancel.
you stay in instead. order room service. eat fries from a silver tray while sitting cross-legged on the bed in the hotel robe. on tv, a french reality show plays with no subtitles. you make up the plot as you go.
your phone lights up again around ten-thirty.
mingyu is it lame if i say tonight’s the first time i’ve actually rested all week
you extremely but also same
mingyu i feel like i’ve been smiling for cameras since tuesday
you i forgot how to blink correctly in photos pretty sure i look mildly haunted in half of them
mingyu new aesthetic unlocked
you what about you how’s your night off
mingyu very quiet i’m pretending i’m in an artsy indie movie nothing happens but the music is good
you mine’s more “girl orders crème brûlée at midnight and judges everyone on tv without knowing the language”
mingyu: i’d watch that
you: it’s a limited series moody lighting no plot
mingyu i play your mysterious neighbor with three lines
you you play the guy at the bakery who always gets the last croissant before me
mingyu oh no i’m the villain
you obviously
the next morning, you get a message from someone on the dior team. there’s a private dinner that night. low-key, mostly creatives, no press. they say you don’t have to go, but they’d love to have you there. you say yes. mostly because you’re curious. maybe also because you wonder if he’ll be there.
you don’t ask.
you show up in a long dark dress and a tired smile. the room is warm, lit low, buzzing softly. the kind of gathering where you don’t have to be anything other than yourself.
he’s already there.
you spot him across the room, leaning against a marble fireplace, listening quietly. his jacket fits perfectly. he looks like he belongs here, but like he’d rather be somewhere else.
you think he sees you at the same time you see him. he gives a small nod.
you return it.
you don’t talk during dinner. you’re seated apart, close but not close enough to chat easily. he laughs once at something someone says, and you smile without meaning to.
after dessert, people drift toward the windows, champagne flutes in hand. the city lights glow softly below.
you stand near a window, watching the blur of lights over the seine. he walks over, close enough to speak quietly.
“still holding your champagne suspiciously?” he jokes.
you glance at your glass. “yeah, it feels important. like a tiny glass trophy.”
“paris does that to everything.”
“even small talk,” you say, smirking.
he laughs. “this view makes everything feel staged, like we’re extras in a film.”
“the city’s the real star.”
“exactly.”
a pause.
“people still can’t stop spinning stories about us.”
you laugh softly. “maybe we should take a picture together. just to make things more interesting.”
he grins. “caption it ‘just met’ or something mysterious.”
“‘totally random encounter,’” you add, smiling.
“internet loses it instantly.”
“and then fifty new theories start.”
“guess we’re good at this.”
you both look out over the city, quiet between you.
“you’re easier to talk to than most here,” he says.
you glance at him. “is that a compliment?”
“just an honest observation.”
“i’ll take it.”
you share a small smile.
after a moment, you quietly say goodbye and slip out, the city’s soft hum following you.
when you get back to the hotel, there’s a message.
mingyu you disappeared like a spy no dramatic storm-off or slow-motion slap. i’m disappointed
you the lighting wasn’t right i’ll save it for the sequel
mingyu you looked nice tonight not saying that to be weird just. you did
you thank you you too
mingyu safe to say we survived paris?
you not over yet but yeah mostly intact
mingyu mostly
you don’t know what to call this.
not a crush. not a friendship. not really anything you need to label. just this... quiet, mutual thing. something that makes a strange city feel less distant. something that doesn’t ask for more than it gives.
on your last night in paris, you stay up late with the window cracked open.
the sounds of the street rise and fall, soft voices, a motorbike passing, the clink of a bottle in the distance. you sit on the bed with your legs pulled to your chest, phone in hand, but no new messages.
you open your notes app and type without thinking:
things i want to remember:
the bakery smell at 8:10am
the girl who hugged me near the river
the music in the car on the way to the dinner
the way no one rushed anything
the quiet
how he said i was easy to talk to
how i felt okay
you leave it there.
you close the app.
you sleep lightly.
in the morning, just before your car arrives to take you to the airport, your phone buzzes one last time.
mingyu i’m thinking of posting that pic of us. don’t forget to keep the mystery alive when you get back.
you smile.
you always you too
mingyu safe flight talk soon?
a pause.
you yeah. talk soon.
you don’t know what’s going to happen.
but you’re not waiting for it.
you’re just letting it be.
whatever it is.
and it started here.
in paris.
#mingyu x reader#mingyu imagines#mingyu x you#mingyu drabbles#kim mingyu x reader#kim mingyu x you#kim mingyu imagines#kim mingyu drabbles#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen drabbles#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#svt reactions#svt x reader#svt x you#svt drabbles#svt headcanons#seventeen#svt#kim mingyu#mingyu#mingyu seventeen#seventeen smau#svt smau#mingyu smau#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios
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★ MONSTERFUCKING FT ZHONGLI
‘ fem!reader◞ big dick, husband, half dragon Zhongli calls himself your god and you call him Morax like twice◞ aphrodisiac◞ brief cervix fucking◞ matting cycles◞ breeding kink◞ knotting◞ oviposition ’ rewritten with my current style, my most loved fic from 2022 ( my baby )
amber. like the sunset rays going through the slightly yellow tinted windows, bathing you both in the golden light, like his eyes that devoured you whole, taking in every detail and expression of pleasure from you.
like the pair of horns that adorned his head, the support you’ve been using for a while now since there were times your husband liked to fuck hard, leaving you gasping for air and looking for any sort of support that wasn’t his back, sweat coated and filled with crescent marks of your nails, as your body jolted with each punishing thrust.
brown undertones, like the scales that adorned his body, extending over the length of his arms, neck, abdomen to finally reach the base of his cock, now wet and slippery from your slick as he continued to fuck your brains out.
like the long tail that thumped on the floor occasionally, thick on the base and slimmer in the tip, but still heavy enough to create a loud thud that matched your screams and the wet noise of skin slapping. spikes, scales, all glowing in the now dark room, just like the tips of Zhongli’s hair, rising in intensity as he was close to climax.
amber, thick and overly sweet like his words, like his praises, like the liquid that filled your mouth and dripped down your chin, drops that he was quick to lick with a serpent tongue, long and smooth, plunging inside your mouth to make you take it all.
“open your lips for me, my love” Zhongli mutters with his eyes glued on you, imponent frame towering above your body, making you feel smaller somehow, “it will help the pain” soothing, using his thumb to caress your bottom lip and help you part them further enough for the tip of the crystal clear bottle to drip it’s contents inside your waiting mouth.
watching you take the liquid at the same time the engorged tip of his cock pushed between your folds “...so, perfect”.
you whine his name, once, twice, wiggling your hips trying to get more friction from his sweet cock teasing your pussy, “stop, you will make a mess” your beloved husband whispers so sweetly, noticing how a few drops of sticky liquid slipped from your lips.
barely leaning forward to lick them, causing his cock to unintentionally slide inside your walls just lightly, just the tip stretching you apart, enough to make you whine, but not to satisfy, accustomed to his fat cock making your eyes roll, now unable to get off on your own, always waiting for your husband to keep you full.
“hah— Zhongli, please” yet another whine, hips bucking as the dual tips of his forked tongue traveled over the expanse of your neck and shoulders, fangs often scraping through the sensitive skin.
“I am here, my dear, let me take care of you” the way his husked words were spoken directly on your ear got your pussy clenching around the tip of his cock that was still nestled inside of your warm walls, stealing a loud grunt from Zhongli’s throat as his hips were now giving shallow thrusts, fucking you with his cockhead while his thumbs spread your pussy lips open, admiring the way you stretched and coated his thick grit with your slick, “oh, my beautiful wife..” starting to rub circles on your clit, fingertips wet from your fluids to make the motion easier, feeling your body shake so easily from his touch, “my mate”
and you cum just like that, trembling and panting on the bed with not even half of his grith inside, but the smirk on his face told you that was just the beginning, or perhaps, that the aphrodisiacs you drank were working already.
it wasn’t the first time you took the liquid either, it helped you to take your husband’s inhuman — quite literally — cock while on his matting cycles, normally it was huge, but on those days, he impressively grew larger and thicker.
bringing you back to the present with a little smirk and a muttered “pretty”, slipping a slick covered hand to your belly and pressing just sightly, taking advantage of your fucked out state to hold on your thighs and press them against his chest, his own body weight pushing you down further in the mattress while you bended in half in a tight matting press.
you yelp a little, “ungh fuck-” while his cock starts to sink deeper, Zhongli’s own groans growing louder as he tried to fit his massive length inside your too tight cunt, “too big—” now squeal, trying to squirm underneath him but unable to move from how tightly he held you down, only taking what he wanted to give you.
“you are taking it so well, my love, I will make you feel so good...” he says, leaning forward to kiss your lips with his long, wet tongue exploring the insides of mouth and swallowing your moans, making your whole focus on him as he moved in tiny thrusts sinking an inch deeper each time.
“you are absolutely perfect” the praise comes between needy kisses, “so good for me, my pretty wife”
small oh’s and choked out sobs where the only thing you could form while your husband filled your soaked pussy, tears threatening to fall at the intensity of everything, extremely thankful to the aphrodisiacs because otherwise, taking him to the base would have been impossible.
one last peck on your lips and Zhongli is kneeling on the mattress, with knees on each side of your thighs as his cock filled your wet hole, balls coming to rest on your ass, so fucking deep you swore you felt it in your throat.
and he wastes no time before pounding you mercilessly, his thrusts so hard and deep your body is bouncing on the mattress, mounting you almost like an animal, the wet squelching sounds from your pussy getting louder with each wave of arousal pooling in between your legs, and the knot at the base of his cock engorged starting to hit against your puffy pussy lips that eagerly waited for the moment he would bury it inside, his desire to knot you clouding his thoughts.
“a-ah, god” you moan, back arching against the mattress, sobbing out his name breathlessly.
“I am your god” he rasps out, holding your chin with a hand while the other moved to your ass, lifting you up to fuck you better, hitting on your g-spot each time, a small change on the angle and he would be fucking your cervix, “say it”
“ah, yes, yes!” you scream, pussy throbbing from the incoming orgasm “yes, yes my god, fuck— Morax!”
“that’s right, my love, your god is going to make you feel so good”
“so close” your cries music to his ears, and the sloppy picture you paint, drool slipping from the corner of your lips and pooling in your neck and pillow, making it hard to breath, hard to think, with his fat cock fucking you raw, with his handsome face twisted in pleasure and your name on his lips.
pussy clenching and throbbing as you came again without a warning, not a sound escaping your lips except for a small breathless gasp, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head, not only after you have already babbled and convulsed that you manage to utter “M-morax, please...”
“what do you desire, my love?” watching your half lidded eyes with his own, glowing bright in adoration and lust.
“your cum— please, please, please, give it to me, fill me up” you choke out, the air getting knocked out of your lungs each time Zhongli’s hips smacked against your ass, hard, almost painfully.
“ah, yes, — I’m going to fill you, you’re going to carry my babies, is that what you want? to give me little adepti? to be filled with my cum until you get round and pregnant?”
you’ve always knew your husband was stunning, so handsome and composed, but there was something about him with disheveled damp hair, sweat dripping from his face down his neck and toned chest and abdomen, getting lost in the pleasure only you could bring him, mouth hanging open as he sank in your cunt and voiced his inner desires to knock you up. once again, getting lost in him so you nod your head with a squeaky “yes!”
“I am going to cum” his voice is rough, deep, a little unlike him, changing the angle to hit the entrance of your cervix with his cock and earning a high pitched “me too!” from you.
“give it to me, Zhongli, give me your cum, give me your knot, give me everything”
like electricity, his body curved forward, fucking his fat knot inside your tight cunt growing larger as it started to push his eggs inside of you, chest rumbling, the amber marks on his body glowing intensely like his eyes.
at least half dozen of eggs that left you sobbing and limp, pussy clenching and creaming after each egg pushed inside of your cervix, his balls clenching painfully before spurting a thick wave of cum right after all the eggs were resting inside your swollen belly. a hand coming to lay on the bump with a gentle smile on his lips leaning forward to kiss you again, petting your hair as he admired you with devotion, his cock still nestled between your folds trying to keep his cum inside of you as much as possible so his little eggs hatch.
#lovegasmic writes zhongli#genshin zhongli x reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli smut#zhongli x reader smut#genshin zhongli smut#genshin zhongli x reader smut#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact zhongli smut#genshin impact zhongli x reader#morax x reader#genshin impact Morax x reader#genshin morax smut#morax smut#dragon zhongli smut
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summary — getting high with bf!rafe for the first time
warnings — weed, rafe being suggestive, you and rafe being giggly and all over each other
a/n — i need to go to to the dispensary 😣
The scent of burnt sugar and something vaguely herbal hung in the air, a sweetness that tickled your nose even before the harsher notes hit. You coughed, a little laugh bubbling up as Rafe clapped you on the back, his eyes already sparkling with amusement.
"Easy there, baby," he chuckled, his voice a little deeper, a little warmer than usual. He took another hit from the joint, the cherry glowing a defiant orange in the dimly lit room. You watched, fascinated, as he exhaled a slow, milky plume, a smirk playing on his lips as he held it out to you again.
This was it. Your first time. And with Rafe, no less. You’d always been a bit of a goodie-two-shoes, and Rafe, well, Rafe was Rafe. The one who always pushed your boundaries, but somehow made you feel safe doing it.
You took it, feeling the warmth of the roach against your fingertips, and cautiously inhaled. This time, it was less of a shock, more of a slow burn that spread through your chest. You held it in, counting to three like Rafe had instructed, then let it out in a shaky sigh.
"Atta girl," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your face.
A strange lightness began to bloom in your head, a disconnect between your thoughts and your body. The room seemed to tilt just slightly, and Rafe’s face, already so familiar, seemed to sharpen, his eyes a more intense shade of blue, the curve of his lips more pronounced.
You felt a giggle building in your chest, a tiny, uncontrollable bubble of mirth. "This is weird," you managed, the words feeling a little too big for your mouth.
Rafe’s laugh was a low rumble, infectious. "Just wait," he promised, his eyes twinkling. He leaned closer, his arm brushing yours, and a shiver went down your spine. "Feeling it yet?"
"I think so," you confessed, another giggle escaping. You looked at him, and for some reason, the way his hair looked freshly buzzed, the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiled, it was all just so incredibly funny and endearing at the same time. You reached out, almost unconsciously, and poked his cheek. "Your face is funny."
He feigned offense, pressing his hand to his chest dramatically. "My face is a national treasure!"
You burst out laughing, a full, unrestrained sound that surprised even yourself. You leaned into him, burying your face in his shoulder, your body shaking with silent mirth. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, his own laughter rumbling against your ear.
"You're giggly," he whispered, his breath warm on your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.
"You're making me giggly," you retorted, pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes still sparkling with mirth. You poked his nose this time, a playful little tap.
His gaze dropped to your lips, and a different kind of warmth bloomed in your stomach. "Oh yeah?" he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers through you. He leaned in slowly, his eyes still locked with yours, a suggestive glint in their depths. "Maybe I can make you more than giggly."
The air between you thickened, charged with a new, exhilarating energy. You found yourself leaning in too, your body instinctively drawn to his. The world outside the two of you seemed to fade, replaced by the soft glow of the lamp, the scent of the lingering smoke, and the intoxicating awareness of Rafe's presence.
His lips met yours, soft and hesitant at first, then deepening with a comfortable familiarity. It was messy, a little clumsy with all the giggling, but it was perfect. You tasted the faint sweetness of the weed, and something else – something uniquely Rafe, warm and a little wild.
You gripped his polo, pulling him closer, your bodies molding together on the worn sofa. There was no awkwardness, no self-consciousness, just a delicious rush of feeling. You were all over each other, a tangle of limbs and laughter and blossoming desire. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt magnified, electric.
🏷️, @spencerreid66 @starrii-sturns @vxncevis @dsfault
#Rafe masterlist⭑.ᐟ#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe x oc#rafe x you#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc
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I ENTERED VOID ON MY BIRTHDAY, NOW I’M IN DUBAI, HABIBII 🪽
hey y’all. as i mentioned in one of my earlier posts, i planned to use my sub to enter the void again on my birthday to finally manifest something I’ve been desiring for so long. i didn’t manifest anything the first few times i entered it because i was waiting for the perfect moment .. my birthday! and yes, I followed through. sharing it with you all now, just as i promised.
(for those who are wondering how i entered, read this post)
let me tell y'all everything! so, a few days ago, on the night of my birthday, i had my sub playing in the background while lying down. i wasn’t hyper focused or trying too hard, just letting it play, letting my mind wander, fantasizing and all. and suddenly i couldn't hear the sub anymore, couldn't feel my body or my bed, all pitch black, that's when i knew i was in the void like this time i didn't even get any symptoms. one moment i was just lying there, and the next, void lmao
i calmly affirmed, “I’m going on a trip to Dubai tommorow”, then i just stayed there and eventually slept.
fast forward to the next morning. everything felt totally normal. we were just celebrating my birthday, doing the usual, when out of nowhere, my dad casually goes, “guess what? we’re flying to Dubai as your birthday surprise.”
i froze. just stood there smiling on the outside, screaming on the inside💃🏻
when we arrived there, we stayed in this gorgeous hotel overlooking the marina, and the first thing i did was head straight to the pool with a mocktail in hand, living my best soft life, obviously. we explored the city, did a little shopping (okay, a lot), tried some amazing food. it was was surreal.
and i also visited the BURJ KHALIFA because come on, how could i come all the way to Dubai and not?
here are some pictures from the trip, just a few pieces of the dream i got to live:
burj khalifa:



aquarium:



dubai marina:

desert:

i visited many other places but i can’t share any more photos right now since Tumblr only allows up to 10 pictures per post. i might share more later.
i’m sharing these pictures not to prove anything but because someone out there needs to see what’s possible. while it may not be sufficient for some skeptics, will undoubtedly ignite a glimmer of hope for the majority of you.
with love,
from the girl who once imagined Dubai and then went there.
#void state#void state success story#law of assumption#reality shifting#affirm and persist#subliminals#void success#voidblr#loablr#loassumption#loa affirmations#loassblog#void blog
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Note: Please —Click Here— to read part one if you’d like! I’m finally getting around to giving them a second part, omg. I hope I did it justice. Enjoy, my beautiful baes!
Warning: A woman picks a fight with you over Caleb (she’s not a real threat, dw), you get really possessive over him, car sex, use of ‘angel’ for a nickname
Word Count: 4K
Summary: A night out quickly takes a different turn.
Cowboy!Caleb/PossessiveReader
“C’mon, angel. You got it. Push your thighs in tighter,” Caleb instructs you. “Harder. Good, like that, like I taught you.”
You bite your lip, uncertainty coiling through you as you feel the back and forth motion in your hips. You’ve been at this for what is definitely far too long, but with Caleb, you didn’t mind the time it took. Choosing not to be patient wouldn’t get you anywhere, not when you wanted to succeed so badly.
“I—I’m gonna fall again!” you squeak, your nerves calming just barely when he holds you by your hip, silently reassuring you as Applebottom begins to strut along the even terrain of the rich green grass.
“She can sense your nervousness. That’s why she’s so ready to throw you off,” he chuckles, remaining beside you before patting on the large horse’s side with three quick loving taps. “Confidence is key, alright? Show her who’s the boss.”
“You’re her boss!” you yelp right before she trots in place, her hooves pounding into the ground unforgivingly with whine-like neighing to follow. The typically sweet animal did this every time she wanted to set her boundaries and make it known that she did not want whoever was on her back.
It was understandable. You’d only wanted Caleb on top of you, too.
It’s been a few days since you’ve been staying with him on his parents’ ranch, simply because you wanted to, you could, and he offered—no, he begged you to come over. With your dad being able to take on farm work again without needing help, you told lied to him about how you’d be staying over at a friend’s house for a much deserved break.
He still doesn’t know that the man he strictly told you to keep out, was in your room the morning they returned. You had to explain to Caleb later why you frantically pulled him from your bed and threw his sweatpants at him like you were a teenager sneaking a boy out.
You were able to get away with it because not only is the guest room thankfully on the second floor, but momma called your phone and said they needed you both to come down and help haul their stuff and the hand-me-down farm clothes Grams surprisingly let them take, upstairs.
That was about a month ago and a complete win in your book, despite the near heart attack at first. And now, after the time it took for you to have this privacy, you’ve been delightfully basking in the presence of your beloved cowboy.
Since Caleb’s workaholic mother and father tended to be so busy with other business ventures, they were often out of town a lot and this week was one of those instances you both were more than willing to take advantage of.
It was safe to say that you two have been going at it like you were making up for lost time. From sex in his room, to the shower, and even with you bent over the kitchen counter that you ended up scrubbing with bleach because you felt awful about it post orgasm, Caleb has had you folded up in too many ways to count.
He even asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you declined.
Yes, he had your heart, he’s had and will continue to have your body, but you needed to make sure this wasn’t some glorified honeymoon phase. Everything was and felt perfect right now because of how excited you two were to have each other entirely without fear, limitations, and uncertainty—well, nearly.
Your dad will come around when you tell him, you’re almost positive.
But, waiting a bit would prove to you if this feeling was something that would stick without the memories and nostalgia you share being the anchor to it all.
Besides, you two still have a lot to learn about one another all over again before you outwardly labeled this beauty of a man as your boyfriend. You weren’t lying when you said you loved him, but love didn’t mean you had to rush. It meant that you had all the time in the world together to figure it out.
Right?
He understood your concerns, even if he wished you would’ve told him yes and let him fuck you in celebration. Granted, he still did, but it was with determination—to show you that there was no such thing as a fluke when it came to how he felt about you.
Besides all the mushy feelings though, it’s been immensely freeing with him. Like he promised the morning after he made love to you for the first time, in the early evenings during your stay, he’s been helping you try to learn how to ride a horse before he took you out to buy you one of your own.
No matter how much you failed, it was the reality that Caleb was your helping hand to make your heart dance in your chest.
You whole heartedly blamed your pops for your inability, but it partially on you, too. He tried to teach you when you were younger, but gave up once he realized how scared you’d always be no matter what horse he put you on or in front of you. Despite how badly he wanted you to conquer, he refused to traumatize his little girl further after all the falls and near accidents.
And Caleb was far too young and inexperienced himself at the time to try, so you simply never got the hang of it. Not even when he took you a few times to ride on Applebottom before you left for college.
You were honestly too embarrassed to try asking for any assistance the older you became and add you leaving on top of that, horse riding just became a skill you accepted that you’d never acquire.
Caleb soothed the beautiful steed, rubbing down her nose and scratched below her chin to ease her defiance.
“You wanna call it a day?” he grinned up at you, the warm setting sun making his dewy skin glow.
“Please.”
“No worries, angel. Scoot back.”
You maneuver yourself on the leather saddle to make room for the burly man, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting against him once he sat and grabbed hold of the reigns before making sure you were ready to go. After your confirmation, with a click of his tongue and a soft “go ‘head girl”, you were riding towards his large home with the slightly humid wind wiping across your dampened skin.
“I’m taking you out tonight,” he said the closer you got.
“For what?”
“Because I want us to have some fun.”
“I think we have a lot of that here, don’t you think?”
He laughs, the sound warming you on the inside. “You’re not lyin’, but I wanna take you dancing. Remember the last time we went?”
You flip through your memories like they’re pages on a book, not having any recollection.
“Exactly,” he fills in your silence. “We weren’t even ten years old and couldn’t catch a beat for shit.”
“Caleb, that does not count!” Now you’re the one laughing, hard enough to make you snort a little bit.
“It definitely does!” Slowing Applebottom down until she completely stops beside the wrap around porch, he jumps down first to then help you. When you’re standing in front of him, he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips tenderly.
“I’m gonna set her up for the night, we’ll head in, get cleaned up, and I want to be back down in my pickup in an hour. You got that, angel?”
“Yes, sir,” you tease, making him smirk.
“Go on.” He plucks his cowboy hat off his head and hits you playfully on the ass with it on your way up the steps. “Get the shower going for us.”
You and Caleb have been on the dance floor for nearly an hour straight, and you couldn’t get enough. With every twirl and the feeling of his body pressed against you alongside all the other patrons having their own fun, you wished this night could go on forever.
In your floral pink knee length summer dress, his strong hands were on your waist as he moved you side to side to the thumping beat that vibrated the walls and floors of the classical country dance bar that’s been around long before the both of you.
Your sexy cowboy was a sight to drool over in his sage green long sleeve shirt that he had pulled up on his strong forearms to display his tattoos and dark blue jeans that showed off some of his impressive physique.
You were wearing his black Cattleman that he slyly placed atop your head in the middle of you swaying to the music. You helplessly giggled when he kissed down your neck and took you by the hand to spin you around to face him.
His skin was slightly flushed and his soft hair a small whirlwind of a mess, but if you asked Caleb what he was feeling—complete and alive were the only adjectives that could come to mind.
Your arms went around his neck with a bright smile to accompany your eagerness as you sang along to the lyrics of a song your momma still loves to blast on her cleaning days. Caleb flashed you that boyish grin that made you swoon when you grew dramatic in your efforts to match the passion of the talented singer’s voice blasting through the speakers.
Then he started to sing with you and for a moment, there was no care in the world about how crazy you both sounded. This was where you had fun and you wouldn’t let anything prevent you from enjoying it to its fullest potential.
That was your intention until a woman walked up to you both as the upbeat song ended and transitioned to something slower. You couldn’t even get close to him again before an airy voice said behind you, “You finished with her yet, C?”
C? Who the hell is she calling C?
You craned your neck to figure out who was emitting the strong aroma of too-much perfume. A pretty and short, long haired brunette looking up at Caleb with very clear fuck-me eyes, proved to be the answer to the mystery.
Her complete disregard for your presence wasn’t missed, either.
“I know your mother raised you to have some respect, Maycee,” Caleb replied sharply, not bothering to look at her.
“What? I waited ‘til the song was over,” she shrugs, moving closer to him and making this weird primal behavior surge within you when her perfectly manicured fingers tried to rest on his shoulder before he shucked her off.
“That was respectful enough, was it not? I just want to talk with you.” Her judgmental eyes look into yours that’s slowly losing the light it had second ago. “Alone.”
“We’ve got nothin’ to talk about. Coming up to me when I’m with my girl is out of line.”
“Nothing to talk about? Your girl?” she spits out in disbelief. “Seems like you’ve made the wrong choice.”
“Am I invisible?” you interrupt swiftly, the irritation coursing through your body making it impossible to keep your mouth shut any longer. The looks were hard to ignore, but the nosiness of others did nothing to put out the flame stoking in your chest.
You face her head on, ready to defend yourself with zero intimidation at her attempt to size you up.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“The moment you spoke to him made it have every fucking thing to do with me.”
“Aww, let me guess: you think you’re special?” she scoffs with a mocking grin. “Tell her about our time together Caleb, since it’s so necessary that she stays clued in.”
Your body tenses as your jaw ticks. The noticeable reaction makes her smile as if she’s triumphant.
“I’d really rather not embarrass you or ourselves more than you’ve already done yourself, Maycee,” Caleb says through gritted teeth. “That’s not what I want or what I do, but you have a tendency of pushing your fucking luck. You’ve done enough. I suggest you know when to walk away.”
You were hard to rile up—very hard. But Caleb was one of the few people who knew how you could get if that’s where you were brought. It’s one of the reasons he’s trying to deescalate the situation as quickly as possible.
“You’re such an asshole. Her over me—seriously?” She sucks her teeth. “Call me when you come back to your senses. My mouth really misses you.”
Your eyes narrow and you check her before Caleb can try. Your tone drops to make sure that even with the quietness that’s suffocating the already stuffy space, only she can hear you clearly.
“Know that my name was tattooed on his chest while his dick was in your mouth.” You get in her face now, feeling a strong hand on your arm to hold you back.
“I want you to make sure you sit with the fact that every time he got hard, it’s because he thought of me. Even when he was inside of you.”
Maycee’s chest rises and falls, the clear shock and disbelief swirling in her irises.
“Baby, let’s just go,” Caleb calls to you, his grip pressing a little harder to make sure you’re aware that he’s trying to keep you calm.
It’s ridiculous how easily your night has been ruined, and now all the fun is washed out your veins.
Not another word is spoken when you take off his hat and press it roughly to his chest, not caring if he doesn’t catch it. You snatch yourself away from him before you storm out the bar and into the now cool night.
Your anger is misplaced, you know that. But it’s feels impossible to correct with the way it was encompassing your entire being.
Caleb doesn’t waste a moment following you, quickly unlocking his vehicle and opening the door to let you climb inside. Once behind the wheel, he maneuvers the tires over the gravel parking lot before rolling onto the smooth roads, and god is the drive uncomfortable.
“You wanna talk now?” he voices ten minutes in, sighing at your refusal to answer—again.
You told yourself you weren’t jealous of his past, that you didn’t care. And truly, you didn’t.
But the mere thought of Maycee with Caleb in any way, made your blood boil. The way she walked up to him like she was so familiar fueled you with violence.
He was yours, he belongs to you.
“Pull over,” you mumble, making his eyebrow furrow.
“I’m not letting you walk if that’s what you think you’re about to do. I don’t care—”
“Pull. Over,” you repeat slowly.
He does. What other choice does he have when the woman he loves looks ready to set fire to anything in her path that dared to give her a reason?
There’s nothing but long empty rode in front and behind you in the dark night of chirping crickets and twinkling fireflies as he puts the car in park to the side. Caleb looks over at you, the moonlight and rows of illuminated warm street lamps pouring through the windshield giving him the privilege to set eyes on his lady.
“Angel, you know she doesn’t mean anythin’ to me. I know you know.”
“I do.” You turn your body to face him.
“We only hooked up twice, pretty. I don’t want you being upset with me. Tell me what you need me—” Your hand reaching over the center console and the tug on his belt makes his words slow.
“I want you,” you breathe out, your voice shaky and the need to have him overriding anything sensible. “I want you to fuck me, Caleb. I want to erase her from you—erase all of them.”
Pretty,” he coos apologetically. “You’ve already done that. But anything you want. Just let me take us home.”
“No,” you shake your head stubbornly. “Now. I want it now.”
“Fuck…” His cock comes to life at your possessiveness.
He leans in to kiss you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he swallows your whimpers and identifies your cravings without more needing to be said. You stay like that for a moment, letting him savor your taste.
When he releases you, he gets out the truck so that he can slide into the black leather seat in the back. The moment he shuts the door and sits, waiting with his legs spread wide, you’re kicking off your shoes and climbing toward him like he’s your reclamation.
The lack of sufficient space isn’t enough to stop you from sitting in his lap and pulling on his hair, grinding your panty clad pussy against the rough material of his jeans. He sucks on your neck, the sweet and tangy taste on your skin only making his balls tighten with need.
You have to see your name that marks him, that gives you ownership of him. Impatiently, you pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side and tracing your fingertips along the mesmerizing ink.
“I’m yours, angel,” he whispers, his hands gripping your hips hungrily.
“Show me,” you beg. You feel down his pecs and toned abs before quickly beginning to undo his belt. The clinks echo in the enclosed space at the same time that he bunches your dress above your waist.
Wrapping your hand around his thickness and pulling him out of his confines, you pump him agonizingly slow in your palm.
“You told me this was my cock,” you say against lips, your heart hammering so fast that you’re not too sure how coherent you sound. “You said both of you were devoted to me.”
Your mouths graze, but never meet. “Give me what’s mine…”
Caleb curses under his breath when you swipe a thumb along his slit and smear his precum around, his hips bucking up with eagerness. “I’ll listen to your every w—word. Sit up on your knees, baby…Let me make it better.”
Bracing one hand on him, you follow his instruction and push out a desperate huff when he roughly tugs your panties to the side after you lift yourself.
You didn’t want a condom. In fact, you’d lose your shit if he even offered one. That’s all you’ve been using since your first time together and right now, you just wanted to feel him without any barriers.
When his bare tip slides into your leaking hole, you press your lips together with a pleased hum.
“They can never have you again,” you cry as he helps lower you down to take every pulsating veiny inch. “Hngh—Yes…I miss you like this…”
“N—Never,” he solidifies through a raspy groan, his dick twitching inside your hot and slick walls when you squeeze him.
“You hear how we sound together?” You get closer as you make your hips rise and steadily fall, the squelching of your connection filling your ears. “Only we could make music so powerful.”
The truck begins to shake the harder you go, your palms pressing against the cushioning behind him so your nails had something to scratch when he fucks into you, knocking the breath out of your pliable body.
His fingers dig in your flesh through your dress, surely bruising you, but you need him to. You need that tinge of pain as a reminder that neither of you are never going anywhere because you’ve already made your mark.
“You—hah—you feel so fucking good, Caleb…” The effortless gliding in your pussy makes white dots spot in your vision and your nipples ache beneath the meddlesome fabric.
“We’ve always been in tune.” He shakily reaches over and grabs his Cattleman, placing it on your disarrayed strands and running his thumb across your lip before his large hand caresses down your neck before grasping one of your breasts over your dress. Your lack of a bra lets him flick a nipple, making a strained whimper fall from your puffy lips.
“Don’t ever take it off again. I’m your cowboy, pretty. Own that.” He loses his train of thought for a moment, being buried so snuggly in your heat.
“Ah, fuck…fuck…M—Make me feel it…”
You nod, leaning further back against the console so the outside streetlights could shine upon where you’re connected. Your lover looks down to watch your cunt greedily spread the sticky fluids up and down his cock with unabashed desire.
“Y—you’re not C…” you mewl tiredly, rotating your hips to grind against him. “You’re my Caleb…Just mine…”
The new motion sends shivers down his spine. “You’re right…That’ll never change. It never has…”
The interior grows foggy and humid, sweat beading down your back and his temples the faster your orgasm approaches. You use your muscles to tighten your cunt around his throbbing length, and each contraction makes him feel more precum spurt out in preparation to claim you from the inside.
“That’sss right…oh, baby, keep going… just like that…W—Wanna fill you up so badly…” He pulls your panties over more to gain complete access, his thumb lazily circling your taunt bundle of nerves and sending shockwaves through you.
“Make you so fuckin’ full of me, pretty—I know you want it.”
He sucks air in through his teeth when your peak hits you so hard and unexpectedly that it has you trying to crawl away from him at the simultaneous moment that his cum rushes inside your shuddering walls.
Your moans are on the precipice of pornographic, but for him, it’s the embodiment of sublimity.
You serenade him with your gentle sounds and wavering tone, letting yourself succumb to the deliriousness like you’ve done many times now. Caleb holds you down to make sure you’re filled to the brim, rubbing along your trembling inner thighs. He keeps you spread open so he can watch how the copious amount of cum has no choice but to spill out of your hole and down cock before reaching his balls and staining his clothes.
“‘M so sorry for what happened,” he speaks softly after giving you the space to catch your breath.
“It’s not your fault,” you mumble, holding his hat so that it’ll stay on your head as you sit up before taking it off. Fear consumes him for a brief moment when you place it on his.
“Remember when I told you no?” Your head tilts, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek to nestle into. “About being your girlfriend?”
“I do.”
“Tonight has shown me that…I think I’m in wayyy too deep to be trying to play it safe.”
He smiles. “A mutual sentiment.”
“Will you do me the honor,” you flash a genuine one as well, adjusting the crooked hat and brushing his hair away from his eyebrows. “and let me be your one and only cowgirl?”
“You never even have to ask, angel. C’mere.”
After you share yet another kiss, he presses a sweeter one to the tip your nose.
“Your dad is going to whoop my ass.”
You laugh, the vibrations making you remember that Caleb is still inside of you.
“He’ll be okay. Momma will hold him back.”
“Thanks, baby,” he rolls his eyes with playful sarcasm. “That means a lot.”
“Whatever he does, I’ll be there to kiss it better.”
“Yeah?” he smirks.
“Mhmmm.”
You don’t know what you were even going to try and say or do next because any and all calmness and sentimentally is gone when you see red and blue light flash along with two curt blares of a police siren.
“Shit!” you panic, flicking Caleb’s forehead when he starts to muffle his laugh.
“Ow!” he whisper shouts.
“Move your ass!”
“I can’t until you do!”
Then a knock at the driver’s window sounds. You would forever be in debt to tinted windows now.
“Play dead,” you suggest lowly.
“You’re a terrible problem solver.”
“Well, I’m not seeing you come up with any bright ideas!”
When what you know is the final polite knock sounds with four hits instead of the initial two, Caleb closes his eyes and lays his head back, the hat falling over his eyes and forehead.
“You’re right,” he says, his words muffled. “Play dead.”
“You’re all worried about my dad when me and this police officer is getting ready to kick your ass.”
“Can’t. I’m already dead.”
“Caleb!”
“Mr. Xia?” calls a male voice.
“Who the hell..?”
“Oh,” he huffs in relief. “It’s just Xavier.”
“From high school!?” you ask, completely stunned.
He nods. “He moved back a year after you left. Nothing to worry about. We’re cool.”
“You’re shirtless and still in me!”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t be embarrassed.”
You pluck his forehead once more. “I can’t stand you!”
He rubs his forehead, then pulls you into him. “I’m in love with you too, angel. But flick me again and I’ll fuck you again with him right outside.”
“Just do something!” you pout, your face getting heated at the thought.
Glad to have made you flustered, he smiles. “Anything for you.”
A/N: I felt like creating a scenario like this felt kinda realistic for them because I definitely believe people would fight over a man like Caleb—especially if he sexes you as good as he looks LOLLLL!!!! I didn’t think it would’ve just been sunshine and rainbows initially in a small town where Caleb has been around the block…I could’ve just done a big time skip to their happily ever after, but where’s the fun in that?!?! But I think I’ve unintentionally started another series, DAMNIT! JAYLA, PLS PUT THE PHONE DOWN!!!!
🍎 Tags: @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @caien @stargirlygirl @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @meadowinthesky @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc
♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat
Creds to @/saradika, @/saradika-graphics, and @/bbyg4rlhelps for the dividers!
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deespace smut#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x reader#caleb x you#caleb smut#lads x you#lads caleb#caleb xia#lads smut
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Our Secret
IVE Liz x Male Reader (Manager) Part 1 of Our Secret Series The laundry room was dimly lit, the only sound being the gentle hum of the washing machines. You were lost in thought, Liz's socks wrapped tightly around your throbbing erection. The fabric was still damp from the rain-soaked performance, and the scent of her feet filled your nostrils as you pumped your hips, imagining it was her touching you. Suddenly, the door creaked open. Your heart leapt into your throat as you froze, caught red-handed. Liz stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, a small smile spread across her face.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Her voice was gentle, teasing even. You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. Liz walked closer, her hips swaying slightly. She knelt down in front of you, looking up at you through her lashes.
"I've known for a while," Liz repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen the way you look at me, especially when you think I'm not noticing." She reached out, her slender fingers brushing against your thigh. You shuddered at her touch, your cock twitching in the sock." Do you like imagining it's me touching you?" she asked, her hand slowly moving upward. Her fingers traced the outline of your erection through the fabric, making you gasp. "Yes," you admitted hoarsely. "Every night, Liz. I think about grabbing you and fucking you until you scream." Liz's eyes darkened with desire at your words. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the bulge in the sock. "Then why don't we make that fantasy a reality?" she murmured against your skin.
Your breath caught in your throat as Liz's words sank in. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of innocence and temptation. Slowly, she stood up, her hands moving to the hem of her shirt. She pulled it off, revealing a simple white bra that struggled to contain her breasts. Your mouth went dry at the sight. "Are you sure about this, Liz?" you asked, your voice strained with desire and hesitation. "We can't undo this if we start." Liz smiled softly, stepping closer to you. "I'm sure," she whispered, pressing her body against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the softness of her breasts pushing against your chest. "I want this, Manager. I want you." With those words, she captured your lips in a kiss, her mouth moving hungrily against yours. Your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against you as you kissed her back fiercely.
The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and urgent. Liz's hands roamed over your chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your muscles. You gripped her hips tightly, grinding your erection against her. She moaned into your mouth, the sound sending a jolt of desire straight to your core. Breaking the kiss, Liz stepped back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts were full and perfect, with rosy nipples that hardened under your gaze. She reached for the button of her jeans, popping it open and sliding them down her legs along with her panties. Standing before you completely naked, Liz looked like a goddess. Her skin was flawless, her curves soft and inviting. She bit her lip shyly as she waited for your reaction. "Touch me," she whispered. "Please." Unable to resist any longer, you stepped forward and cupped her breasts in your hands.
You kneaded her soft flesh, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. Liz arched into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of your shirt, desperate to feel your skin against hers. Once your shirt was open, she pressed herself against you, her naked body molding perfectly to yours. Your hands slid down her sides, over her hips, and onto the curve of her ass. You squeezed the firm flesh, pulling her even closer. Liz's legs wrapped around your waist as she clung to you, her breath coming in short gasps. "I need you," she panted against your neck. "Please, Manager. I've wanted this for so long." Her words spurred you on. You lifted her up and carried her to a nearby table, laying her down gently. Her legs fell open invitingly, revealing the glistening folds of her pussy. You couldn't resist any longer. You had to taste her.
You knelt between her legs, pressing soft kisses along her inner thighs. Liz trembled beneath you, her fingers threading through your hair. When your lips finally made contact with her core, she cried out, her hips bucking off the table. You licked and sucked at her folds, savoring the sweet taste of her arousal. Your tongue delved deeper, penetrating her tight channel as you sought out her most sensitive spots. Liz writhed beneath you, her moans growing louder and more desperate. "Yes," she gasped." Just like that. Don't stop." Her hands tightened in your hair as she ground herself against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. You could feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, signaling her impending orgasm. You redoubled your efforts, sucking hard on her clit as you fucked her with your tongue. Suddenly, Liz's body tensed.
Liz's body tensed, her back arching off the table as her orgasm crashed over her. She screamed your name, her pussy clamping down on your tongue as she rode out the waves of pleasure. You lapped at her, drawing out her climax until she collapsed back onto the table, panting heavily. As you stood up, Liz looked at you with hooded eyes. "That was incredible," she murmured. Then a mischievous smile spread across her face. "But I think it's time for payback," she said, sitting up and swinging her legs off the table." I saw what you were doing with my socks earlier." She stood and walked over to the laundry basket, pulling out a pair of clean socks. Holding them up, she looked at you with a playful smirk." Why don't you sit down and let me return the favor?" she suggested, slowly unrolling one of the socks."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should accept her offer. But the sight of Liz standing there with those socks, her naked body still flushed from her orgasm, was too tempting to resist. Slowly, you sat back down on the chair, your heart racing with anticipation. Liz knelt in front of you, her eyes locked on yours as she wrapped the sock around your hardening cock. The soft fabric felt incredible against your sensitive skin. She rolled it down slowly, teasingly, until it covered your entire length. She picked up the second sock and began to massage your balls with it, gently squeezing and rolling them in her palm. You groaned at the sensation, your hips lifting off the chair slightly. "Does that feel good?" Liz asked softly, her voice laced with desire. "Yes," you breathed. "So good." She smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of your sock-covered cock before taking it into her mouth.
Liz pulled back, releasing your cock from her mouth. She looked up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye and then slowly stood up. Turning around, she placed her feet on either side of your thighs and began to move them together, sliding the socks up and down your length. She used her toes to grip the sock, rolling it along your shaft with expert precision. The sensation was incredible - the soft pressure of the fabric combined with the warmth of her feet was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You gripped the edges of the chair, your knuckles turning white as Liz worked her feet faster. Her calves flexed with each movement, her heels digging into your thighs for leverage. She leaned forward slightly, giving you a perfect view of her ass and pussy as she jerked you off with her feet. The sight was enough to push you closer to the edge.
"Do you like it?" Liz asked breathlessly, her feet never slowing their rhythm. "Do you like how I'm using my feet to jerk you off while I'm completely naked for you?" She glanced over her shoulder, catching your gaze and holding it. Her eyes were filled with a mix of desire and curiosity, waiting for your response. "Yes," you groaned, your hips bucking slightly into her touch. "God yes, Liz. It's incredible." She smiled at your words, seeming to take pride in pleasuring you this way. Her movements became more confident, more deliberate. She leaned back even further, arching her spine so that her ass was sticking out prominently. The position gave you an even better view of her glistening pussy lips, still wet from her earlier orgasm. "Maybe next time," she murmured teasingly," I'll let you fuck me with my feet too."
The thought of fucking Liz's feet sent a surge of arousal through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. Your breathing grew ragged as she continued to work her feet along your length, the socks slick with your pre-cum. "Please," you begged, your voice strained with need. "I'm so close, Liz." She glanced back at you again, her eyes dark with desire. "Come for me," she commanded softly. "Come all over my feet and socks." Her words were all it took to send you over the edge. With a loud groan, you felt your orgasm wash over you, your cock pulsing as it released into the sock wrapped around it. Liz kept moving her feet, milking every last drop from you as she watched with fascination. When you finally finished, she carefully unwrapped the sock from your sensitive flesh and held it up for inspection. It was soaked through with your cum.
Liz brought the sock to her nose and inhaled deeply, a small smile playing on her lips. "You smell so good," she murmured appreciatively. Then, to your shock, she began to lick the cum off the sock, her tongue swirling around the fabric to collect every last bit of your essence. She swallowed it down with a satisfied hum, her eyes never leaving yours. "Delicious," she said softly, dropping the clean sock onto the floor. "I think it's time for round two," Liz announced, standing up and turning to face you fully. Her pussy was still glistening with arousal, and you could see her nipples hardening again. "This time," she said with a wicked grin, "I want you to fuck me with that big cock of yours." She climbed onto your lap, straddling your hips and grinding her wet folds against your already hardening member. "Are you ready for me?" she whispered against your lips.
You groaned as Liz's wet heat pressed against your growing erection. Your hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her flush against you. "Yes," you breathed, your voice husky with desire. "I'm ready for you." Liz reached between your bodies and guided your cock to her entrance. She was so wet that you slipped inside easily, her tight walls enveloping you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being connected so intimately. Liz began to move, rocking her hips slowly as she adjusted to your size. "You feel so good inside me," she gasped, her head falling back in pleasure. "So big and hard." She started to ride you faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. You gripped her hips tighter, helping to lift her up and down on your cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the laundry room, mixing with your moans and groans of pleasure.
As Liz rode you faster, the line between manager and idol blurred completely. In that moment, you weren't just her manager anymore - you were her lover, her partner in pleasure. Her hands gripped your shoulders tightly as she bounced on your lap, her breasts swaying hypnotically with each movement. "Harder," she pleaded breathlessly, her eyes locked onto yours. "Fuck me harder, Manager. "The title rolled off her tongue like a dare, a challenge to push the boundaries even further. You obliged, gripping her hips and slamming her down onto your cock with increasing force. The room echoed with the sound of flesh meeting flesh and the desperate cries of pleasure from both of you. As your thrusts grew more powerful and erratic, you felt Liz's walls tightening around you. She was close to another orgasm. "Come with me," she gasped, her voice strained with impending release. "Fill me up, Manager." Her words pushed you over the edge.
With a loud groan, you buried yourself deep inside Liz as your orgasm crashed over you. Your cock pulsed violently, releasing stream after stream of hot cum into her waiting pussy. Liz screamed in ecstasy as she came undone on top of you, her walls clamping down on your spurting shaft and milking every last drop from you. You held her tightly against your chest as you both rode out the waves of pleasure, your bodies shaking and sweating in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking. Slowly, Liz collapsed against you, her face buried in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both struggled to catch your breath. "That was incredible," she murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline. "I've wanted this for so long." She lifted her head to look at you, her eyes shining with affection and satisfaction. "Promise me we can do this again," she whispered."
You gently lifted Liz off your lap, setting her on her feet. She swayed slightly, still unsteady from the intensity of your lovemaking. You quickly cleaned yourself up and helped Liz gather her scattered clothes. "We should get back," you said softly, glancing at the door nervously. "Someone might come looking for us if we're gone too long." Liz nodded in understanding, a small frown tugging at her lips. She dressed hurriedly, smoothing down her hair and wiping away any signs of what had just occurred. She stepped close to you one last time, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before whispering, "Tonight. My dorm room. Midnight." With that promise, she slipped out of the laundry room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering scent of their passion in the air. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before heading back to your duties as Liz's manager.
AN: Liz is so fine
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