#he loves to sit on his leaf <3

[daughterofsarenrae]

Everyone, meet Leo!

[edensxgarden]

Lando absolutely adored watching your face contort into pleasure as your slender fingers dipped inside your needy cunt.

He'd sit back cockily watching as you pumped your fingers in and out of your dripping hole, eyes filling up with glassy tears of frustration.

Your fingers were just so small and unfulfilling compared to his big thick ones, let alone his fat dick that never failed to stretch your tight walls so deliciously.

He loved watching you work yourself to desperation, lips jutting out in a pout when you finally gave up and gave in to his cruel desires.

He loved hearing you beg for his attention and praise his dick, telling him in your poor pleading voice that you simply can't satisfy yourself anymore and you need him to fill you up.

One day when you went out with your girlfriends to get your nails done and they convinced you to go out of your comfort zone and try acrylics.

You loved the way the cute almond nails looked on your best friends, long nails adorned in pretty pastels so you decided why not!

When you sent lando the price for the bill, he clocked that it was a bit more expensive than usual but he figured maybe you'd gotten a little design or possibly the place you went to just raised their prices.

But when he saw the long pointed nails on your hands when he got home, his heart dropped in disappointment.

"You didn't tell me you were getting those." He noted with a pouty lip and a far too sour expression on his face.

At first you felt far more upset than you would like to let on with your boyfriend being so adamant in his dislike for your new nails (of which you were very fond of) and he felt horrible for making you feel bad.

He explained that his distaste for your nails stemmed from his adoration for watching you stuff your pretty pussy full of your fingers and now you can't do that anymore without hurting yourself.

His words quickly replaced your disdain with the familliar burning pit that liked to settle in your tummy whenever Lando spoke of lewd things like that.

After spending a few hours thinking about how Lando would punish you for taking away his ability to watch one of his favorite things, he came back to you with his lovely idea and the pit in your tummy only grew.

You lay on his bed, legs trembling like a leaf and eyes rolling back as you circled his drooling tip around your achey clit, precum lubing it up enough to create a pleasureable friction.

His thick fingers stuffed you full but they were unmoving, forcing you to fuck yourself on them until your brain was hazy.

As your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your cunt clenched around his thick fingers, you absentmindedly decided to never not have acrylics again <3

[gracieheartspedro]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[bedsyandco]

3 times people asked if you and Auston were together + 1 time you finally are?

note: been in a little Auston mood lately and I always enjoy writing my silly little leafs. Feat. teammates JT, Willy, Mitch, Morgan and Matty Marts (miss you king) I don't love this but it's been sitting in my drafts for 2 weeks so...this is a little silly especially the last part

warnings: none? i think…

wc: 1.2k

1 ★ Christmas

It was one of the few days off the guys were given across the season and most of the team were gathering at the Tavares house for christmas dinner. A tradition John started when he became captain.

Auston was watching you from across the room, a smile on his face as he saw you talk to Tessa about something. His smile widened as he watched you throw your head back laughing. When he looked back in front of him, he found 4 pairs of eyes staring him down.

“What?” he asks

“Nothing,” John, Mitch, Willy and Morgan say all at the same time.

“Here we go,” Auston says rolling his eyes

“We didn’t say anything,” Morgan says and Auston gives him a deadpan look.

“Yet” Morgan amends his statement

“Just get it over with,” Auston sighs

“You brought a date,” Morgan starts

“To a team event,” John says

“A woman. A really hot woman.” Willy says grinning a little when Auston glares at him.

“You never bring dates to team gatherings. Ever.” Mitch says

“First of all, it’s not a date, she’s a friend. The same friend I’ve been telling you guys about for months-”

“In all those months you failed to mention that she’s a woman,” Mo points out

“A very hot woman,” Willy says again and lets out a little laugh when Auston punches him on the arm.

“I don’t see why that matters,” Auston mumbles

“Mm you don’t?” Mitch asks looking at him pointedly

“So there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” John asks

“No. Now are we done with the interrogations?” Auston asks and wait for them all to nod before making his way over to you. He wraps his arms around waist from behind as you look out the window admiring the christmas lights.

You shriek when you feel his cold nose press into your neck.

“You little rat, don’t do that!” you say turning around and looping your arms around his neck.

“What you just call me? A rat? Careful, or you’re walking home tonight in the cold.” he says, pinching your waist and you laugh.

“You would never let me walk home alone…would you?” you ask pouting slightly when he jokingly takes a few seconds to think about it.

“No, of course not. I would just be punishing myself since I’d be worried sick about you the entire time.” he says and you smile, resting your cheek against his chest.

“Let’s go eat, I’m starving,” Auston says, squeezing your hip and you laugh.

“When are you not?”

Throughout dinner Auston has a hand on your thigh, tracing patterns lazily, and keeps his gaze on you, choosing to ignore the piercing stares of his teammates.

2 ★ Playoffs

“Auston, wait up, I’ve got something for you.” JT says as the guys all walk to the parking lot after practice.

Auston grimaces when John hands him the jacket, knowing he did it now so that Mitch would see it.

“Is that a…no way.” Mitch says, grabbing the jacket out of Auston’s grip and holding it out in front of him to examine the back. “Is this for who I think it is?”

“Your mom?” Auston asks immaturely and Mitch glares at him.

“The mom jokes are never funny.” Mitch replies and John shakes his head at them, saying goodbye and getting in his car, leaving Auston there to deal with Mitch on his own.

“She gets a jacket huh? What’s next a key to your apartment?” Mitch asks teasingly and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline when Auston doesn’t reply, simply snatching the jacket back and putting it on the passenger seat of his car.

“Oh my God. She already has a key, doesn’t she? Does she have a drawer?” Mitch asks and Auston sighs knowing Mitch wasn’t going to let him go home until he had the answers he was looking for.

“Yes she has a key. And yes she has a drawer, but it’s not like that! Sometimes she comes over and it’s way too late to drive back to her place, so she stays the night and then she has to go to work the next day and she needs something to wear- You know what it doesn’t matter, you’re just going to make it something it isn’t anyway.” Auston says resigned

“Something it isn’t? She has a WAG jacket and a key and drawer in your apartment. Pretty sure it is what I think it is. Why are you so against it anyway, do you not feel anything for her?” Mitch asks, tone serious. Everyone could see that there was intense chemistry between you and Auston, and Mitch knew him. He wouldn’t give a key to just anyone.

“I don’t have time for a relationship right now and we really are just good friends,” Auston claims, hoping Mitch will drop the subject.

Sensing Auston is done with the conversation, Mitch tries to get one last word in before he leaves.

“So uh, when do I get a drawer and key to your apartment? We're friends…”

3 ★ Mitch's wedding

Mitch was standing next to Matt and despite it being his wedding it felt as if at this very moment all eyes were on the two people on the dance floor. You and Auston. It was almost as if people were in a trance, not able to look away as Auston bends down to whisper something in your ear.

“I’m glad he finally has someone,” Matt says

“Oh they’re not together,” Mitch replies and laughs when Matt’s jaw nearly drops

“There’s no way,” Matt says turning his gaze back to the dance floor just as you rest your head on Auston’s chest and his hands slip dangerously low on your back, resting just above your ass.

Matt doesn’t buy it that there’s nothing going on between you and Auston. Having experienced it himself, he knows what that type of chemistry, intimacy and feelings look like.

“People are staring,” you mumble into Auston’s chest and he looks around the room. He was so caught up on you he didn’t even notice that there was barely anyone else on the dance floor, a lot eyes on the two of you.

“What can I say, we put on a good show,” Auston says and you scoff.

“It’s you they’re looking at,” you reply and Auston shakes his head.

“Trust me baby. No one is looking twice at me when you’re standing next to me in that dress. You look stunning,” he says, and your cheeks flush as his eyes run down from your eyes, to your breasts, down to your legs and all the way back up.

“Aus?” you whisper and the way you look at him nearly knocks the breath right out of his lungs because he knows what you’re about to say.

“I know. You don’t need to say it. I feel the same way,” he says and pulls you closer again, kissing your temple and making eye contact with Mitch and Matt across the room, both of them laughing when Auston discreetly flips them of behind your back.

+1 ★

liked by mitchmarner, morganreilly and others.

austonmatthews: happy birthday to the best friend I could ask for. so blessed to have you in my life. thank you for everything you do for me. I love you❤️

view all comments

mitchmarner: feel so betrayed that you called her your best friend. I see how it is.

willynylander: wait until you find out that they've been dating for almost 2 months and he didn't tell you

mattymarts: no way they're finally dating?

mitchmarner: 2 MONTHS?

mitchmarner: you can stay in Arizona. that's where liars belong.

morganreilly: if he stays in AZ who's gonna get you all those points?

mitchmarner: actually come back so I can yell at you

yourusername: love you🩷

sydmartin: happy birthday love! 😚

username22: there's so much going on in this comment section I think we're completely skipping over the fact that Auston has a gf??

leafsfan3416: mitch's comments😭💀

user96: they're so cute

[allysunny]

Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️

Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 6k words

Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???

At first, he had no idea who you were.

And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.

You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.

Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.

Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.

Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.

Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.

“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”

You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.

“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.

“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”

“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”

Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.

“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”

Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?

“How about I fax you when I’m done?”

“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.

“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”

You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.

“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.

The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.

Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.

He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.

The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.

“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”

“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”

[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.

“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”

“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”

“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”

There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?

He had to change that, clearly.

“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?

“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.

“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”

“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?

You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.

But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.

Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?

“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.

Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.

“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.

“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”

“Yes! Thursday is fine.”

Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.

“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.

You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.

You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.

Surely, there was no need to panic, right?

Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.

In fact, things went great.

Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.

It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.

And surprisingly, so did he.

He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.

It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.

He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.

Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.

And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.

By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.

At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.

Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.

“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.

His next words changed your mind.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “

“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”

“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”

You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.

“Dinner? Some other time?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.

Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.

“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”

You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.

“This was a date?”

He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”

You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.

“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.

Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.

But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.

He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.

“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?

Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.

It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.

“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.

He’d see you again for sure.

Things went smoothly after that.

You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.

You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.

No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.

No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.

If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.

No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.

It was hard, to say the least.

At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.

But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.

He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.

But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.

Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.

“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.

“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.

Joe scoffed.

“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.

Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.

But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.

Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.

Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.

You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.

“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.

“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.

“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.

You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.

“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”

The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.

You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?

Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.

“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.

“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”

“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.

“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “

“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.

“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “

“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”

Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.

“Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes?”

“A word.”

You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.

A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.

When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.

“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.

“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Raph is just a friend.”

Bruce snorted.

“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”

At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.

“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.

“What?”

“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”

Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.

“Gay?”

“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”

“Oh.”

You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.

“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.

“No – I wasn’t – “

“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“They’re all after you. I know it.”

“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”

He nodded, kissing you again.

“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”

Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”

“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”

He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

“I only have eyes for you, you know.”

“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.

Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.

He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.

And he did!

Sort of.

He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.

He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.

So, he decided to take action.

One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.

He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.

You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.

“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.

“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”

“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?

“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”

“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “

“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”

You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.

Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.

“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”

“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”

He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.

It didn’t matter.

They all knew you were his now.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔

Oh well! It'll be fun!

Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!

Have an amazing day ahead!

[mikrokcsmos]

Marriage Material

synopsis; in which you witness firsthand exactly how much your boyfriend loves you (and distrusts all men).

pairing; boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader ft. taehyung

genre; minor angst, mainly fluff, humor, established relationship, bts run au

rating; PG-13

warnings; none just a jealous koo <3

w/c; 985

a/n; this debate was too cute. and this idea is even cuter. but jungkook be the cutest.

In his defense, you knew he was a very jealous person.

In your defense, it was his brother.

Jungkook does his best to catch your eye, but you’re too busy, to invested, in helping his older brother out with a perilla leaf.

Once it’s separated, you ask his brother if he’ll need help with more. You may be oblivious to your boyfriend’s agitation, but his brother isn’t.

Jeon Jung Hyun just chuckles nervously, grunting quietly to himself as Jungkook kicks his shin underneath the table again, before telling you no.

“It’s okay, y/n. My brother’s a grown man.”

He chides in from his seat across from you.

“Love, I do the same thing for you all the time and you are a grown man. Sometimes, people need help.”

As you say this, your focus is on perfecting your own perilla leaf, which ironically, you start to have trouble with. Your tongue sticks out in concentration, only for you to puff out your cheeks in minor frustration.

Seeing you having trouble, makes Jungkook’s eyes soften, and he lets out a quiet sigh in resignation. Later — he would explain in great detail exactly how he feels on the matter, but right now you needed him.

Wiping off his chopsticks with a napkin, he stretches out his arm, chopsticks aimed in determination to resolve your problem. When he sees your eyes light up from his help, he wants to puff out his chest the same way a superhero does, cause that’s how he feels whenever he helps you.

Whether it be reaching something up high for you, pulling out your chair and tucking it in, wiping specks of food off your face, giving you the last slice of pizza or bite of food in general (which is how you really know he’s in love with you), or separating a perilla leaf—

His eyes squint involuntarily as he thinks of that last one, but what he doesn’t realize is he’s still staring at you as he does it. You pause your chewing, brows raising in confusion at the look he’s giving you. You swallow.

“Why are you looking at me as if you’re about to murder me?”

“What?”

He snaps out of it instantly, sheepish smile on display at getting caught in his own head. His eyes flicker to his brother’s momentarily, and it has Jung Hyun stuffing his face with another perilla leaf you helped him with earlier in order to avoid his brother’s wrath. It only fuels his jealousy.

Following his line of sight, you find him glaring at his brother and frown.

“What’s with the gloomy face, y/n?”

Taehyung asks in question, sitting back down next to Jungkook, now back from his trip to the bathroom. Jungkook’s head swivels to yours.

“Did I do something wrong, love?”

You try to think back to moment’s later, head replaying the past in flashes until you sit up straight, eyes widening in epiphany.

“This has to do with that perilla leaf debate, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook tries his best to look everywhere but at you, and Taehyung stares between you both in amusement, chuckling.

“I missed something, didn’t I?” He lightly elbows Jungkook, who leans away from him, choosing to stay silent, but you know better now.

His hand fidgets with the straw in his cup as he nervously pokes his tongue out to play with his lip ring. That’s all you need to see, though, your hand coming to lay on his.

“Jungkook, love, look at me.”

He does. For only a minute. Eyes now focusing on Taehyung who leans into Jungkook to prod further.

“Y/N, did you help his brother with a perilla leaf, per chance?”

You purse your lips, as does Jungkook.

“I did.”

“Ah.” He nods, then leans back against the booth with his arms crossed. He nudges Jungkook with his shoulder.

“Are they gonna fall in love now, and get married?” Taehyung jestures, chuckling lightly, trying to ease the tension he’s slowly beginning to feel. Jungkook’s brother stays silent, fully aware it’s best not to add to the growing tension he didn’t mean to cause.

You give Taehyung a hard stare. He backs off, hands up in defense.

“Hey Tae, let’s go pay for the meal, yeah?” Jung Hyun offers suddenly, and Taehyung gives him a grateful smile.

“Yep! See you both…in a minute.”

Just like that, they walk away.

Taking the opportunity, you slide out of your seat and take Taehyung’s, now side by side with Jungkook. Again, you attempt to gain his attention by taking his hand in yours. This time, it works.

“You know I love you, right?” You start, tone soft.

“Of course.” He angles his body to face yours better, and now that he no longer has the napkin to play with, he defaults to playing with your fingers instead.

“You know I would never leave you—,” you wiggle your fingers in his grip for emphasis with your next words. “—especially when the whole reason we’re having dinner in this nice restaurant is to celebrate our engagement.”

He rubs the back of his neck, tilting it back to look at the elegant light fixture above the table for a split second, before fixing his gaze back on yours.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get to me as much as it did.” You caress his hand with the back of your thumb, eyes full of nothing but understanding.

No judgement.

“It’s just, how did I get so lucky that you chose me of all people to spend the rest of your life with?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since you put this ring on my finger, love.” You smile warmly at him, and his whole body fills with content. When you kiss, it makes every worry of his slip away, and all he can think about is how he can’t wait to marry you.

[dollfacefantasy]

Puppy Games

pairing: chris redfield x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader

summary: chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, predator/prey (they play chase)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: this is a birthday present for one of the sweetest, most caring people i've ever met, @nexysworld. i love nexy so so much, and you should all go wish her a happy birthday because she's great and she deserves it. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

Chris startles awake upon hearing a creak outside his bedroom window. His life working for the government and fighting bioweapons left him a light sleeper. The slightest noises, like the one he imagined came from the gate to his yard, jolted him awake. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sits up. He tries to determine if what he heard was real or the remnant of a dream. But then he hears the clatter of something falling over outside, and he knows something, or someone, is out there.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a shirt and grabs a flashlight and a gun. Slipping on his shoes, he peers out the window and confirms that the gate is open. He cautiously slides out the back door and casts the flashlight around the yard. The beam illuminates the small grassy area, but doesn’t give him an idea of what made that noise.

That is until the beam sweeps over a bit more, and he catches a pair of eyes staring back at him. He jumps from the sudden discovery and aims his weapon. You don’t make any moves at him though. If anything, you look more frightened than he does. You were shaking like a leaf, wide eyes full of fear. He slowly lowers the gun and takes in the sight of you. Floppy ears sprout from the top of your head and a fluffy tail is tucked between your legs. He figures out you’re one of those hybrids he’d heard about. He thought they had only been approved under government supervision for now, but here you were in his backyard.

“Hey there,” he calls as he begins approaching you with caution. He hears you whimper through the darkness, and his heart aches at the vulnerable noise. He closes the gap between the two of you and crouches down to where you had cowered against the fence. You shy away from him, trying to scoot away though you’re prevented by the barrier behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently, “What’s your name?”

You look at him for a moment as if you’re contemplating whether he was worth trusting or not. Eventually, you make your decision and respond with your name. Your voice is quiet, so soft he can barely hear it.

“I’m Chris… Are you lost?” he asks. He honestly had no clue why you would be here. It wasn’t like you were a loose housepet. A hybrid like yourself should’ve been stowed away in some facility with the other pups, doing… whatever they did with your kind. He never had the time to look into it much. It wasn’t his sector.

You shake your head as a response, but it doesn’t look like you even believe it. He scans the light over you, looking for any clues as to your origin. You look like you’ve been on your own for a while. You’re littered with cuts and bruises, and you don’t look like you’ve had a shower in a while. The clothes you wear are plain and functional. They look uniform, government-issued. Something glimmering dangling from the pocket of your sweats catches his eye. He pulls the chain and fishes out some metal tags that confirm his suspicions. They were government issued, displaying your ID number, birthday, and division code. He dangles them in front of you.

“What are these, hm?” he inquires.

Your hand shoots out and yanks them back. “Nothing,” you deflect, looking away.

His eyebrow raises. “I told you. There’s nothing to be scared of. But you’re in luck anyways. I work for the BSAA. I’ll have you home in the morning,” he says.

“That place isn’t home. I’m not going back,” you say with a bit of a growl. The first moment you don’t look like a skittish pup. His interest in you grows.

“Why not? You got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Just as quick as the fight appeared in you, it vanishes. You shake your head and cast your eyes downward. “I don’t have anywhere, but I’m not going back,” you say, quiet determination in your tone.

“Alright… but what am I supposed to do with you? Can’t just keep you in my backyard,” he says, “I’m sure if you got lost it will be no trouble getting you back in.”

“No!” you say, almost sounding pleading. Frustration flashes across your face as you try to figure out what to do. You look up at him again and decide to take the leap of trusting him. You explain why you won’t return to the hell that is your division of the BSAA. You briefly recount the horrors, the inhumane treatment, the suffering.

Chris listens intently. He lets you speak and doesn’t interrupt once. While he wants to say that could never be true, he knows better. And because it is the truth, he knows he could never take you back to a place like that. No one should have to live like that, but especially not a cute little puppy like yourself.

“How about you come inside with me? You can shower, eat, do whatever you need to. Then we’ll figure something out in the morning,” he offers.

You nod. He stands up and sticks out his hand for you. Looking up at him, you take it and let him pull you to your feet. As you follow him inside, you get a better look at him. He’s tall, but even more noticeable, he’s built. He’s maybe the beefiest guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how strong he is with those thick biceps. How easy it would be for him to hold you down. His legs looked powerful too, like he wouldn’t even stumble if you squirmed around in his arms…

Guiding you into the house, he takes you through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. Everything here was small but cozy. You liked the size of it, much different from the vast government rooms you were used to. They were big but always filled with bulk-ordered, industrial furniture. Everything there was overly sanitized. Here, it looked lived in.

“So shower’s in here. You’ll have to use my soap cause that’s all I’ve got. Towels are in here too,” he lists off after opening the bathroom to you. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly before continuing. “Can you do everything you need to yourself?”

“Yes, I can do it all myself,” you huff with a glare.

He raises his arms in surrender and backs out of the bathroom to let you have some privacy. You shut the door, and for the first time in a while, you have the luxury of being alone in a room that locks from the inside. You take your time in the shower, scrubbing away the months of roughing it. You didn’t even care that it was “his” soap. He smelled nice, and it felt so good getting clean. When you’re done, you get out and dry yourself off. It’s at this moment that you realize he didn’t give you any clothes.

You timidly peek out of the bathroom, ears bowing. “Chris?” you call.

He appears after a moment. “Yeah?” he answers.

When he sees you wrapped in a towel, he quickly averts his eyes. He grumbles to himself as he comes to the same realization you had moments earlier. He goes into his room and gets one of his shirts and a pair of his sweats for you. He’s quick to bring it back and hand it to you through the sliver of space left by the open door.

Before you retreat to the bathroom, he catches one more glimpse of your body. Your pretty legs and soft skin. Now that you’re clean, he can really see your cute face and delicate features. He shakes his head and gets himself focused again before he heads back to the kitchen.

On the other side of the door, you begin putting on the clothes he gave you. They’re huge on you to the point that it’s almost comical. You roll the sweats as much as you can, but they still struggle to stay up. What really gets you though, is his scent. It’s all over these. You press the cloth to your nose and take in the heady masculine smell. You’re nearly loopy with how it makes you feel, the urge to be claimed flaring up within you.

After you finish dressing, you join him in the kitchen. You hop up onto a seat at the counter while he fidgets with something in the corner. He brings over a plate with a sandwich to you.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but I’m sure you're hungry,” he says simply.

You nod appreciatively and begin eating. While you’re occupied with that, he goes into the living room and sets you up a bed on the couch. He lays out a few thick blankets and puts some pillows down. It isn’t much, but he’s sure it’s better than wherever you’ve been sleeping on your own.

Once you’re done with your food, you go into the living room and watch him fluff up the cushions for you. He gestures for you to lay down once he finishes, and you do so. He feels a protective urge spark inside him. He doesn’t know how you’d feel about any kind of affection, but he just wanted to do something nice before you slept. He reaches down and brushes some hair out of your face before giving your ear a light and playful tug.

“See you in the morning, pup,” he says instead before exiting to his bedroom.

You squirm a little from the gesture, but a shy smile graces your lips. Your first hint that maybe he wasn’t such a stiff. After he left, you pull your pillows into place and cover yourself with the blankets he provided to try and sleep.

A couple of hours go by though, and you’re still awake. The makeshift bed he created for you was much better than anything you’d slept on in a while, but you still couldn’t get yourself to drift off. You shift around for a bit, trying to get comfy. Nothing works. You whine and kick the blankets off yourself. Huffing with irritation, you try to figure out what it is. Part of you already knows, but the other half soon catches up.

His scent. It was all over you now that you’d bathed in his soap and were wearing his clothes. It followed you everywhere you went. It told you everything you needed to know about him on an instinctual level. With every breath, your body ached for him. Deep down inside, you wanted him there with you, holding you, whispering that everything was ok, that you were a good girl.

You look over, down the hall at his door. It was mostly shut, but a little crack was left open. It was basically calling for you to come in.

So you get up and pad across the hall. You’re sure to be quiet, set on not disturbing his rest. You slip through the door and make your way to the foot of the bed. You stand there for a moment. He was asleep, facing the edge of the bed, shirt off again. Your tail swishes slowly as you contemplate the idea.

‘Should I?’ you think to yourself. It was a risk, but you wanted to be near him so bad. You were tired of being alone.

So you decide to go for it. You kick off his annoying sweats. They kept pooling around your feet and tripping you, so they were left on the floor. You crawl onto the mattress and up the bed. He stirs, but you keep going. You’re quick to slide next to him, slotting yourself against his back. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle against his warm skin.

That easily wakes him. His eyes flutter open, and he mumbles in confusion as he tries to turn around. It takes him a moment when you’re clinging to him like that, but he manages and looks down at you. He blinks a few times, watching with bewilderment as you tuck yourself against his chest and nestle your face against his muscles.

“What are you doing?” he rasps.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Not wanting to get kicked out, you look at him with the best timid puppy dog eyes you can manage. “It’s cold out there,” you say sadly.

“I gave you blankets,” he says. 

You sigh a little. Clearly, he was dense in more ways than physical.

“I got lonely too… It’s hard for me to sleep alone,” you say, starting to pout a little.

He continues looking at you. He wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew how much you had been through so far. What kind of guy would he be to deny you some comfort in your time of need?

“Alright, c’mere,” he sighs and pulls you into his chest all the way, wrapping those big arms around you. One hand rubs your back while the other strokes your hair. “Get some sleep, pup. You need to rest.”

You nod obediently and settle in. With his warmth and scent engulfing you, you’re out like a light. It’s not even ten minutes later before he senses the soft, even rhythm of your breath, letting him know you’re asleep. He shuts his eyes too, dozing off for the night.

In the morning, when Chris wakes, he feels you before he sees you. He feels your warm body pressed to his, your quiet breaths fanning over his skin. He cracks his eyes open and finds you looking as precious as he imagined, tail twitching in your sleep. It was at that moment that he knew for certain that there was no way he was letting anyone else at the BSAA get their hands on you. He wouldn’t be able to rest ever again knowing you were locked away, hurting and sad.

He waited a little while after you woke up to pitch the idea, not wanting to startle you with such a big life change the second you opened your eyes. But once he did lay out the possibility of staying with him, you were all in. Chris’s house was a thousand times better than a park bench or alleyway, and you thought he was pretty nice.

Of course, after a few months of staying together, you both thought much more of the other than “pretty nice.” You loved him, and he completely adored you. You were the piece from his life he didn’t even know was missing. You gave him love he never felt anywhere else and let him express love in return. You were the sweetest little thing he’d ever come across, so affectionate and loving, but you were funny too, always making him laugh with whatever you got up to.

As he spent more time with you, he loved finding out things you liked and little quirks about your personality. He found you loved sitting in his lap, loved curling up with a nest of blankets. He found he loved buying you things in your favorite color just to see your eyes light up. Never did he think his room would be crowded with stuffies and other things of that nature.

It only took no time at all for him to understand how playful you were. He could never be bored with you around. You always wanted to mess with him. You’d taken to calling him “daddy” pretty quickly. The first time he’d heard you say it, all his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

“What’d you say?” he asked.

You repeated yourself confidently with no indication that you’d done anything out of the ordinary. He tried to explain to you why that maybe wasn’t the best idea, but you put on the same puppy dog eyes that convinced him to let you stay in bed on your first night. So from then on, he had a cute puppy girl running around his house calling him daddy.

Even though he wasn’t crazy about it at first, he justified that if it would make you happy, it was worth it. Soon enough though, that word falling from your lips was his favorite sound in the world. He told himself it was because it showed how comfortable you were with him. It definitely wasn’t because he felt his blood rushing south whenever you curled up to him and looked at him with those big sweet eyes saying you loved your daddy.

You also always wanted to play. Whether it was chase or wrestling, the two of you weren’t going to relax until you were thoroughly tired out. Chris loved seeing you have fun, but these games made it harder to suppress the effect you had on him. When he’d chase after you, he'd force himself to just pick you up in the end and not pin you down and stuff you full of him till you were truly exhausted. Or when you’d wrestle, you’d wiggle your hips, whimper and whine, all while he had you underneath him. Every time he’d have to end it by going to the bathroom and jerking off real quick before returning to you.

It all came to a head though when you developed the habit of sitting between his legs while the two of you watched tv. You loved being surrounded by his strong arms, but there was something about being below him, encased by his massive thighs. You’d get comfortable with your blanket and just relax between his legs, resting your head against his knee. And that was fine, but then you wanted to look up at him. You’d turn around on your knees, gazing up at him like the lovesick puppy you were. And then one day you started to nuzzle your face against his lap.

“Hey, hey, baby, what are you doing?” he said quickly, trying to lift you off him before it was too late.

“Just showing you I love you,” you responded, continuing to drag your nose along his pants and even pressing little kisses to the area.

He squirmed a bit. Obviously, had he really wanted to, he could have pushed you off him in a second. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Not to mention he liked how it felt. Once he’d given up his resistance, it wasn’t long before there was a large, hard bulge in his jeans. You were still his precious pup, but you were also a pretty girl rubbing her face all over his cock. He was only human.

You weren’t stupid. This is what you had wanted all along. It’s why you called him daddy, put yourself in every compromising position you could think of. You thought you made it completely obvious that you wanted him to take you and fuck you dumb whenever he felt like it. But all that went over his head, so this is what it came to. But fortunately, it seemed to work.

You freed him from the constraints of his pants and watched his cock spring to life. Timidly wrapping your fingers around it, you brought it to your lips. You licked it a few times and kissed the tip before sliding it into your mouth. Chris’s eyes fell shut as he groaned.

“Fuck, baby. Such a good puppy,” he grunted, tipping his head back.

You sucked with dedication, savoring the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the smell of his musk filling your nose. Your saliva dribbled down his cock as you bobbed your head. He petted your hair mumbling that you were such a good girl for him, such a pretty puppy.

You kept going, using your hand on the part your mouth struggled to cover. He pulsed in your mouth, his muscles tightening as he spilled his hot cum down your throat. You wanted to keep going, and that’s when he really had to use his strength to pull you off and lift you into his lap.

From then on, that became part of your shared routine. He found it was a way to keep you occupied that didn’t take much work on his part. He’d come home, and you’d scramble to the door to greet him. You’d talk a little about each other’s days. Then he’d sit on the couch, already undoing his belt, and ask “Does my pup think she deserves a treat?”

You’d vigorously nod, tail wagging as you positioned yourself at his feet while he pulled his cock out. You’d take it in your mouth as soon as he let you and just shut your brain off. Chris would watch your eyes go glossy as you drooled all over his shaft and lapped at his balls. He realized that this was a way to feel close to him more than anything else.

The first heat you had while living with him brought you even closer together than the countless blowjobs. He basically stayed buried balls deep in you for an entire weekend. He pumped you full with load after load, only taking small breaks when he absolutely had to. 

Even when you weren’t in heat, he felt like he could barely keep up with you sometimes. Your favorite way to play became to bounce on his lap till you couldn’t think straight or have him pound you into the mattress until it felt like the bed would break. He couldn’t complain though. How lucky was he to have such a loving pup?

Everyday with you in his life was brighter than the last. Today though, today was a very special day. Today was your birthday. He comes home from work, small bag in hand. As usual, the second you hear the front door shut, you rush to come see him. You fling yourself into his chest, nearly toppling him over despite your smaller stature.

“Woah, hey there, sweetheart. Miss me today?” he says. He ruffles your hair before wrapping his arm around you and walking to the kitchen. You were still clinging onto him as the two of you walked. Your tail brushes his back as it swishes with your excitement.

“Miss you everyday,” you murmur.

“Get in any trouble today, baby?” he teases.

“No, but the day’s not over yet,” you beam up at him.

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Well, I think I need you to hold off on that for a little longer cause I have something for you,” he says, lifting the bag and showing it off for you.

“A treat?” you ask excitedly.

“Mhm, a special treat for my birthday girl,” he says. He places the bag on the counter and smiles at you eyeing it with curiosity.

“What is it?” you ask, ears perking up.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” he says.

So you do. You tentatively reach forward and take the plain white tissue paper between your fingers. Pulling out the sheets, you drop them to the floor and tilt the bag into your line of sight. Pale purple fluff sticks out of the top. You pull the object out and find a pretty stuffed bear, another you could add to the growing collection on your side of the bed. You look up at him, beaming. He laughs softly and shrugs.

“Glad you like it, pup. I got one more thing in there for you though,” he says.

He takes out a small square box and opens it. After he puts it on the countertop, you see it’s a cupcake decorated with pretty purple frosting. While you admire the color of the dessert, Chris reaches over you and sticks a candle in the top. He lights it up and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not gonna sing for ya, but I want you to make a wish,” he says softly.

You didn’t even know what to say. No one had ever even celebrated your birthday before let alone been so nice about it. You take a moment to contemplate what you’d even wish for. He steps closer and hugs you from behind, rubbing your arm.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I won’t even ask what you wished,” he whispers and plants another kiss on your head.

You finally decide and blow out the candles. You then turn to him and hug him like you did when he first walked through the door. His hand runs over your head. He cracks another smile hearing you mumble a thank you.

“You’re welcome, baby. Just wanted you to have a nice birthday. You wanna eat your cake now?” he says.

You look up at him and shake your head. He would have been confused, but he recognizes the look in your eyes. You’re up to something. There’s a plan forming in that pretty head of yours.

“Oh? Why not?” he asks.

“Well, remember last night. You said we could do whatever I wanted tonight, and I said I had to think about it. But now I know,” you say as you take a step back from his large frame.

“And what is it that you want to do?” he asks, following with a pace in your direction.

You walk over to the door leading to the backyard, and your goal starts to become clear to him. “You were bad today, Daddy. You left the back door unlocked. Woulda been so easy for me to get out and run away,” you say with that mischievous lilt in your voice.

“Oh, but why would my puppy want to do something like that on her birthday? Thought you were my good girl. Good girls don’t behave like that,” he says, joining your game without hesitation.

“I am a good girl. But I get so bored,” you whine, “Need to run around.”

You open the door and step out onto the porch. He follows along, a knowing smirk rising to his face.Your tail goes back and forth behind you

“If you want to do that, you ask Daddy. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Daddy knows best. You can’t be trusted out here on your own. You’ll get hurt and then come running home, crying. And you know it breaks my heart to see my baby upset,” he says.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’d be fine. Don’t need Daddy to take care of me,” you challenge. Despite your bratty facade, you could barely suppress your grin.

“Wow,” Chris says and places his hand on his chest, feigning hurt, “Who knew my puppy was so tough, hm? Is the same girl that whines me for more kisses? Clings to my legs every chance she gets? The same girl who begs me to breed her every single night? Maybe I’ve spoiled you too much. Made you an ungrateful little brat.”

Your face heats up and your ears fall. You struggle to think of a good response.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, “So c’mon pretty puppy, get back in the house, and we’ll eat that cake in there. Bought it just for you.”

You shake your head. “It’s my birthday. I get to do whatever I want. You said so yourself, can’t take it back now,” you say before bolting out the gate and through the grass to the vast sea of trees behind the house.

He shakes his head and starts running after you. “Sounds like the only thing you want right now is for me to teach you some manners and pound that little cunt into the dirt,” he calls after you.

Your laughter carries through the open forest air. You prance over tree roots and under branches, occasionally looking over your shoulder to gauge how far behind Chris was. He bounds across the dirt along your trail. He tears through the foliage, biceps flexing against his shirt as he pushes the plant life out of the way.

Excitement courses through your limbs. You're breathing hard, your heart slamming against your ribcage while gliding through the woods. He’s gaining on you quickly though. Yeah, you were fast, but he was fast and had longer legs. If he wanted to, you’d be caught already. But a big part of the fun for you was the chase.

After a bit more running though, he decides it’s time to call it. He runs with extra speed for a few strides and lunges towards you. You squeal as he tackles you to the ground. He made sure you were engulfed by him though, shielded from any potential harm.

You both roll through the dirt, but at the end of your tussle, he’s on top, pinning you against the earth with a thud. He smiles down at you.

“Oh no, looks like my puppy’s birthday plans have been ruined,” he breathes while looking down at you in your compromising position.

“Mhm, it’s your fault meanie,” you whimper, attempting to jab your knees into his sides.

He dodges the weak attacks and laughs. “Too bad. I’m a meanie, and you’re my little brat. That’s just how it is,” he says as he begins pulling your clothes off you and piling them up nearby.

“Daddy!” you whine and swat at him, “Someone could see!”

He chuckles at that. He tears your panties off you and flips you over onto your stomach with ease. Leaning forward, he speaks into your ear.

“Yeah, and what are they gonna see? Just a responsible owner training his naughty little puppy. Don’t think anyone would object to that.”

He yanks you around some more, getting you into position. Your cheek is pressed to the dirt while your ass is in the air. He holds your hip and grinds his clothes bulge against your soaked pussy. You whimper from the sensation, rocking your hips onto the material as much as you can in his grip. You leave behind some slick on the fabric once you’ve pulled away.

“Look at you. Such a messy baby. We’re gonna have to train that out of you too,” he says.

Before you know it, his pants are down just enough for his cock to spring out. He lines up with your entrance and starts pushing in. Your walls embrace him like always, as if welcoming home. He groans from the warmth that squeezes around him while you gasp from the stretch.

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he starts pumping himself in and out of you. You whimper and dig your fingers into the ground, seeking some form of leverage for yourself. His hips bump into you over and over, dragging your soft cheek against the dirt.

“I’m not hearing any of that attitude now? What happened, pup, ten seconds on daddy’s dick, and you’re fucked stupid?” he mocks.

“No!” you mewl. Your hips are rocking back into his, meeting every single thrust.

“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” he grunts

He’s not gentle right now. His hips connect with your ass at a rapid pace, the clapping echo sounding through the trees. His fingers are digging into your flesh, his teeth poke his own lip as his own pleasure floods his body.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve had to teach you this same. fucking. lesson. You need your daddy,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a thrust, “You’re so stubborn, pup. Gonna have to do this even more than usual to get you to loosen up.”

You babble protests against the dirt and weakly shake your head.

“What’s that?” he asks with a particularly harsh thrust, “Talking back still? Guess I haven’t done good enough yet.”

He keeps up his thrusts, maintaining a consistent speed, but increasing the power. You jolt with each stroke. Your hands curl into complete fists. You cry out, your legs twitching in the dirt. Soon enough, you’ve given up on playing defiant and willingly fall into submission for him.

“Mmm, daddy… feels… feels good. Best daddy in the whole world,” you slur.

“Yeah, now that you’re getting some cock, I’m the best daddy ever. Funny how that works,” he teases as he continues to drill into you.

He watches you squirming on the ground beneath him. He leans down closer to you, pressing his muscular front to your back, letting you feel his size, how easy it is for him to keep you in place and use you for his pleasure.

“You know, sweet baby, I think I’ve got a solution for this problem you keep having, but don’t worry it’s one you’ll like,” he says.

“Wh- mmph- what is it?” you ask around whimpers.

“I’m just gonna have to do what you’re always asking. Gonna have to breed my pretty little puppy,” he answers.

“Gonna- gonna breed me?” you repeat.

“Yeah, baby, gonna breed you. Stuff you full of cum. And if it doesn’t take out here, don’t worry, I’ll make sure it does at some point tonight. Gonna have you carrying my babies by the end of the week,” he grunts with a smack to your ass.

You moan and nod excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, want it,” you slur.

“Oh, I know you do, and think about it, it will work out for both of us. You’ll be the prettiest mama for our pups, make me so proud every single day. And you’ll be too swollen to run off and get yourself hurt. Isn’t that great?”

A blissful smile spreads on your face. “Mhm, great. Smart daddy,” you say, your voice a clear display of how fucked out you are.

“Good girl. Daddy has to be smart to take care of his dumb little puppy, always causing trouble,” he says.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine. You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

You collapse onto your side, crumpling up on the dirt just like your clothes. He smiles at that, finding it so precious. He rubs your back gently and leans down to kiss your temple.

“Such a good puppy baby. My good girl,” he coos and scratches behind your ears.

He cleans himself off a little. It doesn’t take much work before he’s looking like he was before. You, on the other hand, are a whole other story. For you, he brushes the dirt off you as best he can, knowing you’re gonna need a bath after you take a nap. He then pulls your clothes back on, over your limbs which are mostly limp at the moment. Kissing your forehead, he scoops you up and starts carrying you back to the house. You’re all sleepy and clingy, tightening your arms around him and mumbling about how much you love him.

“I know, pup,” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he keeps heading towards the house.

Once he’s there, he takes you inside and flops down in his old recliner. He kicks it back and cradles you to his chest. You get comfy pretty quick, snuggling up to him and nuzzling his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Daddy’s got you. Get some rest, and then we’ll have some cake when you’re up,” he whispers.

You give one more drowsy nod before passing out on top of him. He holds you even closer, watching his precious puppy rest.

“Sweet dreams, birthday girl.”

[rosyblooom]

blooming season 🌷 (2) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans.

part 1 | part 2 <- | part 3

You're not sure how much time has passed since you entered the car, but it doesn't matter. It feels like an eternity. Everything feels overwhelming today—you're the mouse in a world full of elephants, and you don't know how to cope. You want to scream, but your voice feels strained; you want to cry, but there are no tears left. All you can do is sit idly in what feels like a tiny lifeboat in an ocean rippled by giant waves crashing straight at you.

"Feeling any better now?" Lando's voice interrupts the silence, pulling you out of your daze.

You snap your head sideways to face the brunette boy, your brows furrowing as you simply stare at him.

"Hey," he sneaks a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. "You've been quiet the whole ride. Are you feeling any better now?"

Narrowing your eyes, you fix him with a wary glare before rolling your eyes and bringing your feet to the edge of your seat, hugging your knees tightly. "What's it to you?" you finally respond, gazing through the window.

"Look, I'm trying to make things less… tense here. You could, you know, meet me halfway or something."

"How about you stop trying," you snap, glaring at the side of his face. "Just be quiet. Let's get your hand wrapped up, and then you can just leave."

Lando swallows, his eyes darting between you and the street ahead. "I don't think—"

You cut him off sharply, "Obviously, you just missed the freaking turn."

"What? No, I didn't, look," he points at the GPS that's currently rerouting. "Oh."

"Yeah…"

"No need to worry, it's already figuring out a new way. See?"

"Another inconvenience?" you ask, annoyance laced in each word. "Yeah, actually I do."

Lando purses his lips and drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "I'm guessing I'm the first inconvenience?"

"Wow, you can connect dots," you deadpan, sinking into your seat and resting your forehead against the vibrating window.

*********

The elevator door dings open, and you release a relieved breath upon finding its carriage empty. Lando enters first, settling into one side, while you press your back into the opposite wall.

"Let me guess," Lando begins, trailing his fingers up and down the row of twenty buttons, "your floor is the—"

"Sixth," you interject, your patience wearing thin as you take a step towards him and push the number six, causing it to light up.

Lando sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, nodding. "That was going to be my guess, you know?" He glances down at you, his gaze meeting yours briefly before drifting elsewhere.

Feeling hyperaware of his closeness, particularly the warmth emanating from him, you shift back into the opposite corner of the elevator, but he follows.

Your brow furrows as you grunt, "Personal space, remember?"

"Hold on a second." You feel the gentle touch of his hand atop your head, and moments later, he plucks something green from your hair, fixing you with a pointed look as he extends his palm to you. "A four-leaf clover," he exclaims, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Make a wish on it."

You swat his hand away from your face. "No thanks."

"What, there's nothing you want to have? Nothing you want to wish for?"

Sure, you have a wish—only one. You want your dad back, you want your old life back. The one that felt like summer every year, when there were no cold days.

Feeling the tightness in your throat as your vision blurs, you quickly blink away the incoming tears—you don't remember the last time you cried—and remark sharply, "No, I don't—nothing that's possible anyway. Keep it... or don't, I really don't care."

Just in time, the elevator door dings open, and you rush out of the tight space, desperate for more room.

*********

Fumbling with your key, it takes a few attempts before you finally manage to slot it into the keyhole, agitation coursing through your veins. With a satisfying click, you push the door open, only to find the apartment strangely empty.

Lando squeezes in behind you, causing you to stumble slightly before regaining your footing, shooting him a glare.

He strides down the hallway, with you trailing close behind, and into the brightly lit living room. The space is perfectly tidy, almost unnaturally so—there's not a single thing out of place.

"You sure you live here?" Lando glances back at you, eyebrows raised.

"No, I don't," you reply flatly, "this is actually where I bring idiot boys with no sense of self-preservation to kill."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening slowly. "So, you do have jokes then?"

You shrug and head down another hallway, making a beeline for your bedroom. As you push the door open, memories come flooding back—pictures of your dad adorn the walls, nestled in frames atop the dressers. It's like stepping into a time capsule; everything remains as it was four years ago, yet now it feels tainted.

Without wasting a moment's breath, you flip each picture frame on its head. The images taunt you with their stillness, incapable of conjuring the scent of Dad's favourite cologne or the resonance of his soothing voice. Pictures can't replicate the warmth of his hugs.

Once done, you kneel by your bedside table and retrieve a pair of scissors and bandages from the drawer.

"Now this looks more like it," a voice remarks behind you, causing you to startle and slam the drawer shut, rising to your feet. "This actually looks like someone lives here.”

Balling your empty hand into a fist, nails digging into your palm, you grit out, "I didn't tell you to follow me in here."

Lando raises his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, I was just worried. You were gone for a while, but uhm," he swallows, eyes flicking to the scissors you're clutching.

"Seriously?" you brandish the scissors, "I'm not going to stab you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Sure..."

With a sigh, you take a step forward, but he instinctively retreats, prompting you to shake your head and let out a chuckle—it's been awhile since you've done that.

"It's for the bandage," you remark, crossing your arms. "Also, you do realise you're the intruder here. If anyone should be scared, it's me. But I'm not a scaredy-cat, am I?"

"Neither am I," he insists, dropping his arms.

"Good. Let's head back to the kitchen, then."

*********

Lando leaps onto the counter, eliciting a groan from you as you cut the gauze into a shape that fits the wound on his palm.

Swiftly retrieving a clean tea towel from the cupboard, you situate yourself in front of him, arm extended. "Hand?"

He complies immediately, dropping his hand into your palm, and you begin to dab the skin around the cut dry. Once sure nothing is wet anymore, you reach for the gauze and carefully place it over the wound.

Lando hisses, causing you to tilt your head up, only for a sharp pain to suddenly spread atop your head. You both release loud groans, your hands instinctively moving to massage the throbbing spot on your head, while you watch Lando rubbing his chin.

"What the hell is your problem?" you finally manage after a while.

His eyes widen. "What the hell is my problem? You're the one who suddenly moved," he gestures to you, "you could've given me a heads up or something."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be hovering over me like some weirdo?" you retort.

Lando offers no response; instead, his lips gradually curve into a full-blown grin as he begins to chuckle.

You don’t react, simply staring at him blankly.

“C’mon, don’t lie now,” he says, tilting his head with a smile, “That was kinda funny, you have to admit.”

Despite theatrically rolling your eyes, a small smile betrays your true feelings. Still, you simply shrug and say, "Whatever."

"Alright, cool," Lando nods with a grin. "I'll take that. I'll take a 'whatever' anytime over all the other stuff you've been saying."

Taking the bandage from the counter, you close the gap between you, freeing his hand and delicately wrapping the bandage around the injury.

"You make me sound like a bitch," you mutter, flipping his hand over to inspect the wound. "I'm not—or at least I don't mean to be."

Lando props his free hand onto the counter behind him and leans back, raising his eyebrows. "To be honest, I thought that was the whole vibe you were going for."

You pause, setting the bandage roll on the counter and narrowing your gaze at him. Before you can respond, he quickly adds, "Hey, no judgment from me! I can handle difficult."

"Very funny," you say, shaking your head with a smile as you toss the tea towel into his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lando chuckles, retrieving the towel from his face and sliding it out of reach. When his gaze returns to you, his smile fades, and he simply stares, causing your expression to falter and your eyebrows to furrow.

"What do you think you’re looking at?" you snap, feeling as if you're suddenly trapped in a glass cage.

Leaning forward, a slow smile dances along Lando's lips. "You’re very pretty when you smile," he nods, "you should do that more often, it suits you."

Your expression falters, and you feel your heart sink with guilt. Today marks the fourth anniversary of your dad's passing—the first time you’ve felt strong enough to acknowledge it, to face the hurricane head-on—and here you are, spending it laughing, as if it's not a day plagued with immeasurable sadness and pain.

Isn’t that selfish?

It sure as hell feels like it.

Just like that, the walls rise once more as you fix Lando with a blank expression, swiftly grabbing the bandage roll off the counter. "Let’s just get this done, okay?" Your voice is strained—it scratches at your throat.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, confusion swimming in his bright eyes.

You swallow hard and grasp his hand, continuing to wrap up the wound wordlessly.

"I’m sorry," Lando tries again, "If I said something wrong, I’m sorry."

Sighing, you shake your head, and though you feel his gaze piercing your skull, you refuse to tilt your head up to meet his eyes head-on. "Nothing to apologise for," you state quietly, focusing on the task at hand.

This is exactly why you keep to yourself—your pain is yours alone to bear; it's unfair to burden others with it. You're not the same carefree, easily agreeable Y/N you once were back then. That part of you left the world today, four years ago, with your dad.

"Done," you declare, cutting the excess bandage and patting it down. Then, you create some much-needed distance between yourselves, heading towards the sofa and collapsing onto it.

"You know the way out," you yell, squeezing your eyes shut as you focus on your breathing.

The calm doesn’t linger for long, though, when you fail to hear footsteps or the door clicking open. You shoot upright, only to find Lando at the tap, an empty glass in his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you ask, propping your elbows on the couch’s backrest.

"Getting some water," he gestures toward the faucet and flicks it on. "I’m thirsty."

"You can do that at your own place."

"What, go home for water and then come back?" he shoots you a perplexed look before taking a swig from his glass. "Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?"

Rising to your feet slowly, you make your way to the opposite end of the counter and lean against it, resting your hands on the cool surface. "And why would you even come back here?"

"For you to check up on me," he explains, waving his bandaged hand in the air, "make sure I don’t develop an infection. I’ve had one before, it was awful."

As if momentarily blinded by sunlight, you blink more than necessary as you process his words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The cut, it could get infected after being exposed for so long. So, I think we should wait out the day," he shrugs, "just to make sure it doesn’t get worse."

"And why can't you just go to the hospital?" you press, confusion evident in your voice.

His lips curl into a sly smile as he scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know, you seem to know what you're doing. I trust you."

His admission knots your stomach—you can't recall the last time someone willingly stuck by you after all your attempts at self-sabotage.

You're a pusher. You push and push until people fall off the edge of the cliff, leaving you in the comfort of yourself. So, this catches you off-guard. But strangely enough, the proposal doesn’t make you squirm with disgust, but rather... want? You're not quite sure; it's an old feeling, one you struggle to understand.

"Fine, okay," you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief at your own acquiescence. "I think you're being dramatic, but fine."

Lando nods, a grin spreading slowly across his face. "Great."

The weight of today bears down on you, a stark reminder of your initial plans—ones you can't simply reschedule. No, these you can’t ignore; they're a boulder in your road. Today is the day you will visit your dad; today is the day you will see his tombstone for the very first time.

"I've got somewhere to be tonight," you say, twisting your fingers into painful yet somehow soothing shapes. "So you'll have to leave then. And I’ve got to run some errands throughout the day, so you can, I guess, join me... or you can just stay here—stay out of my fucking bedroom—and yeah, watch TV or whatever it is you do."

"Got any food?" Lando inquires, swinging open your refrigerator doors to reveal painfully empty shelves, save for a lone box of leftover takeout from last night.

"That's a negative," he answers his own question, closing the doors with a sigh before turning to face you. "Can we grab some food while we're out running errands?"

Your stomach grumbles in agreement before you can respond, so you simply nod, snatching up your keys. "We should go now, then."

Lando falls into step beside you in the hallway, and you shoot him a sideways glance, adding, "We'll handle my errand first, then we can grab food."

He holds the door open for you, gesturing for you to pass through. "No complaints from me."

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

TAGS: @leclercdream @evitarubio @landossainz @lottef1 @averymjn

[pinejayy]

Rutting Urogi and Hawks x F!Reader

I love my men with wings, but I would love see them how they would act around you when it's spring time // both characters are gonna get their separate headcanons

also I have like 5 requests in my inbox so imma work on those when I have a day off from work

trigger warnings: nsfw, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering (on hawks part), face sitting, le sex, cock warming

Urogi

SFW

Oh so dating the four clones was a handful but You deeply loved them all. But when you experienced your first spring with the boys it was handful, there was a bunch of fighting.

Those flights mainly were around Urogi, because it was spring and that's when birds experienced mating season. And he became more clingy towards you.

He doesn't allow any of the other clones around you. And if one of them were to grab you he would lash out and fight them. And he becomes really aggressive.

One time Aizetsu made the fatal mistake of grabbing you and Urogi went crazy, he literally jumped him and beat him up. The poor blue eyed Demon was a crying mess. "YOU HAVE TO SHARE HER!"

The clones have this schedule to decide which day they get to have you, but Urogi is like fuck that! And of course he’s getting yelled at!

“You selfish demon! You can’t keep her to yourself!” And “I don’t care what time of the year it is! Go jerk yourself off!” And “Please give me Y/N! She’s not yours!”

The Bird Demon has made a nest, and the nest includes your favorite clothes mostly your underwear and bras. The nest also includes pillows so you could be comfortable. But he's also added sticks and leafs he's found around the woods.

Whenever he wants total alone time with you and without the constant nagging about the clones he'll pick you up and fly you somewhere so you guys are alone.

As much as you wanna spend time with the others he won't allow you to leave. Please just stay with him. He needs you. He craves you.

He loves seeing you sleep on his nest. A bunch of cuddles!!

NSFW

Oh boy!! This boy always wants sex with you. Your moans drive him crazy! He loves watching you lay on his nest completely naked.

You're definitely covered in bite marks, hickeys and scratch marks.

Whenever he wants to bury his cock inside of you he's gonna hold you close against his chest and place gentle kisses along your neck. The Demon is also gonna dry hump you until you give him what he wants.

Please Sit On His FACE!! He wants to feel your weight on him, he wants to be your seat so please for the love of god sit on his face!

But when you do sit in his face he moans about how good you taste, he loves lapping his tongue on your folds and clit.

A bunch of teasing!! Like!! "Who's my good girl! Or I'm gonna fill you up so good baby girl!"

Dude is gonna force you on your knees and shove his cock inside your mouth, he doesn't care if your a gagging mess. You're gonna take that cock sweetheart.

Whenever you're tried he'll allow you to sleep but he'll still have his cock buried inside of you!

He loves making you feel good, so good! Heck to spite the other clones he’ll make you moan out his name! Let them hear you! He doesn’t care uwu

He’s so good with aftercare, he’ll make sure you’re good and well taken care of! Lots of kisses and cuddles! He’ll holding you and whisper sweet things to you. “You did a good job babygirl.”

Once his rut is over the other clones are now fighting over you and who’s gonna get you first! So oof you have 3 other cocks to think about still! Good luck princess.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

SFW

Hawks has been clingy with you, and with spring around he’s extra clingy with you. He doesn’t allow you to leave his eye sight, even going to the store alone is a huge no no for him. He doesn’t want anyone around you!

Since you guys live together he’s always by your side and grabbing your body, and around this time he’s extra sweet. A bunch of nicknames “Princess, My Song Bird and Mine.”

Hawks also build a nest around the living room, the nest consist of your clothes, underwear and pillows/blankets you sleep with. He’s so addictive to the way you smell.

LIKE GOD DAMN THE HOUSE IS A MESS! AND HONESTLY YOU GUYS GET IN A LOT OF ARGUMENTS BECAUSE OF IT..

He hides your dirty underwear so he can smell them as he jerks off while you’re not giving his attention he craves for.

During this time he’s also quite aggressive, and during his rut he’s specifically has told Endeavor not to contact him, since it’s not a good time for him. And Endeavor doesn’t wanna know what’s going on and also because he doesn’t care enough but he does pray for you because you’re gonna need it. 💀

Hawks doesn’t allow you outside so you have everything delivered to the house, one time you ordered a pizza and the guy who brought over the pizza was chased away, how dare you look at someone!

Hawks yelled at the poor pizza man. He loves making the pizza guy cry.

Do not touch his wings…please. He’s very sensitive with him and especially during this time of the year! And speaking of his wings! There’s red features everything, and I mean everywhere!

The poor baby loves to hold you, he loves feeling your warm body against his. Please let him hold you

He always wants to be by your side, while sleeping, eating and in the bathroom. And good luck trying to get him away from you. He doesn’t understand personal space ..

Hawks always wants you in the nest with him. And if you don’t get in he’ll start throwing a hissy fit. Honestly he’s kinda childish during this time of the year but that’s because he always wants you by his side!

NSFW

Dude is so rough with you when he’s pumping into you. He loves holding you down by your waist and loves seeing his cock slid in and out of you. And your moans drive him even crazier.

He loves being in between your legs, he loves licking your folds and he can’t help it but moan at the way you taste, you taste so divine to him and he lets you know as well. “You taste so divine princess.” “Good you taste so fucking good! God I want more!”

And dude is gonna make you sit on his face! He wants you to suffocate him with your lovely thighs. And if you move your hips against his face he’ll get worked up.

He’ll choke you as he’s fucking you. uwu

He enjoys seeing you a moaning mess, and during this time he’s also a huge tease. He’ll drag his fingers around your folds and clit. He wants you to beg for his cock. Like he’ll finger you real slow and smirk. “Come on princess beg for my cock…beg for me to fuck you.”

But you can also be a tease too, you especially love pinning him down and love placing kisses all over his body. First you start off at his lips then slowly you make it to his neck then his chest until you have your pretty little lips around his cock, sucking him.

God he loves watching your head moving up and down, taking his cock down your throat. And he’ll be begging for more. “Please Princess, I want you inside of me…please ride me.”

Hawks knows this can be very exhausting for you so whenever you’re feeling sleepy he’ll allow you to sleep but in one condition. You let him cock warm you. He just wants to be inside of you. He can’t get enough of how tight your walls are against him.

You’re covered in marks!! And I mean everywhere! You’re covered in bite marks, scratch marks, and bruises. And this makes him weak!! Seeing your body marked by him.

HE WANTS TO FILL YOU UP! HE WANTS TO MAKE A HAWKS JR! 💀💀

But honestly he’s great with aftercare! He’ll make sure you’re good and that he didn’t hurt you. He’ll order food (and he’ll try his best not to yell at the poor person who delivers it ) and he’ll cuddle you too. Lots of sweet comments and kisses.

Once his rut is over, he makes sure to clean up the house since he made into a mess! And jokingly he’ll tell you “How about around 2!”

[familyvideostevie]

stand to gain

did i write this for me? maybe. enjoy anyway <3 you get a raise at work. steve has a tough day. and yet somehow your good news turns it around for him. | fluff, established relationship, being loved wholly and completely, 1.3k

It's a small victory in the grand scheme of things. Life these days is like that -- normal enough that sometimes a seemingly insignificant thing will make your whole day. A rainbow on the way to the grocery store or a perfect leaf on your windshield. Steve washing and folding your favorite shirt or calling you on your lunch break. It doesn't take much to feel like you've got it pretty good.

But maybe this is something you're allowed to be extra happy about: you got a raise at work. You'd been expecting it and practiced your pitch for weeks with Steve and had been waiting for the right time to sit down with your manager. Today ended up being that day and it worked. Better than you'd expected, really. You're feeling pleased with yourself, ready to share your news and maybe celebrate once you get him. You want to see the look on Steve's face when you tell him all of the prep paid off and then some.

You hum as you unlock the door and look for him when you toe off your shoes and plunk your keys into the bowl. He doesn't seem to be on the couch or in the kitchen as far as you can tell but you know he's home as his jacket is hanging on the hook. The entryway smells vaguely of his cologne, so he must have arrived not long before you.

"I'm home," you call.

"Bedroom," Steve yells back. "Thank god you're home," he continues. You set about putting away your bag and getting a snack, trying to be quiet so you can hear his hollering. "I had such a shitty day."

Oh. Your excitement shrinks back into a box in your chest, shoved to the side for later. He had a bad day? Bad days for Steve can mean anything from someone being rude to something really bad actually happening. He's not great at specifying.

"What happened?" you ask.

He grunts. "Just...shit." He finally appears, hair a mess from tugging his sweatshirt over his head. He's already in comfortable clothes and looks ready to go to bed. You can see the tension in the line of his shoulders and the twitch of his jaw. 'Not worth hashing out."

Steve steps into your space like he was made to be there. Arms around your shoulders, chin hooked over your shoulder as he slumps into you. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "That you had a bad day."

You're partners. Partners comfort each other when things are tough, and that's what you're going to do. But there's a part of you that's a bit down now, too, that it isn't the time to share your good news with Steve. It can wait but you really did want to tell him.

"Not your fault," he huffs. He presses his lips to your neck, your cheek, your temple, and then pulls back, hands on your shoulders. The tension has seeped out of him somewhat but he's frowning now.

"What?" you ask.

"Hold on," he says. His hands frame your face and tilt your jaw side to side gently. "You look like..."

"Steve, what?"

"You look like you're excited about something."

You laugh out of shock. "How do you know that? I didn't know I could look like that."

Steve shrugs. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks. "I know all of your expressions," he says. "You get a crease here when you're thinking --" he presses between your brows "-- and a line here when you're holding something in." His pointer finger traces a line at the corner of your mouth. "And when you're trying not to laugh at me you get three tiny creases here --" He presses his thumb to the corner of your eye.

You bat his hand away. "Alright, alright, I get it." He looks pleased with himself. "It's not a big deal."

You circle his wrists with your hands and try to pull away. He likes pasta when he's in a bad mood and you know you've got some tomato sauce leftover. But you can't make anything if he's still holding you.

"Hey," he says, softer than before. His eyes are bright and warm. "Tell me. It'll make me feel less shitty."

You're not sure that's true, but you really do want to tell him. "Okay," you give in. "I got a raise today."

Steve's mouth drops open and he smiles at the same time. You can see all of his teeth before he lunges, wrapping his arms around you and twirling you in a circle right there in the kitchen, your toes brushing the ground.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he cries.

"Steve!" He puts you down and laughs. "No, I'm not kidding." You're both breathing quickly.

"You let me talk about my bullshit day when we could have been talking about how you got a raise! You should have screamed it when you got home!"

He starts to press kisses to every inch of you he can reach. Your forehead, your brow, your nose, your cheeks.

Breathless giggles surge out of you, the excitement you felt all day returning full force now that he's sharing it.

"That's amazing," he says between kisses. "Best shit I've ever heard. I'm so glad and I knew it, that pitch was really fucking good."

Steve kisses you properly once, twice, three times in quick pecks before pulling you in for another hug.

"I'm happy about it," you say into his shoulder.

He sways you in his hold just a little. You press closer to him and breathe him in. His sweatshirt smells a little like him, a little like you. "Are you proud of yourself? I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah," you admit. "I am. I...almost didn't tell you because I didn't want to make you feel like we couldn't commiserate about your bad day.

Steve pulls back. He palms your hip with one hand and cradles your jaw with the other. You lean into the touch.

"Okay," he says. "Hey, listen."

"I'm listening," you tease, but he doesn't laugh.

"That's nice of you but your good news is my good news, yeah? This makes me really happy even if my day sucked," he says. "Because I love you and you being happy makes me happy."

"But you being upset means I can be upset with you," you counter. "We can wallow together."

"Yeah, but we can celebrate together, too. Don't keep good things to yourself because I'm carrying bad ones," he says. Steve isn't always the most verbose guy but when he wants you to understand something he always manages to get his point across in a way that makes you feel incredibly tender.

It's a battle you know you won't win. Steve loves you and that means he wants as much of you as you'll give him, good, bad, and ugly. And you love him, so it's the same in reverse. It's a good problem to have, being loved this much.

"Fine," you allow. He beams.

"So how are we celebrating?"

"I didn't think about that," you say. "I just wanted to tell you."

Steve's expression softens. "Okay, now that's just stupid sweet," he says.

You roll your eyes. "We could order food?"

He snaps his fingers and heads for the phone on the wall. "Amazing idea. Genius. That's the kind of thinking that got you that raise," he says. "Go put on your pjs and I'll order. The usual, right?"

You nod. He looks so happy, receiver in hand as he looks for the phone number in your menu drawer, hair still a riot and feet bare. You love him for being so excited for you. You love him for loving you.

"Steve," you say softly. He doesn't look up.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." That gets him to look.

"Don't thank me, baby," he says with a smile. "I'm just a trophy boyfriend." You laugh all the way to the bedroom.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[upsidedownmvnson]

I love Eddie's little somethings, what would his reaction be when he finds out that you keep all the things he's made for you, you've pressed, dried, and kept a lot of flowers he got for you and stuck them in a scrapbook etc

STOP - they're talking about this post &lt;3 but specifically this one;

when [eddie's] meant to give you gift (birthdays/holidays etc) he prefers to make something. one time he recorded two cassettes of himself playing all your favourite songs, one slow, instrumental & acoustic for studying, and one how they were meant to be sang for jamming. he's also made a popsicle stick diorama of your childhood tree fort that was torn down, and a DnD campaign on your birthday based on your favourite fantasy movie

so i imagine that eddie is like a outside cat

he finds shiny trinkets and brings them to you, the spoils of his adventures. but then curl up on your lap lol

he'd bring you anything, a pretty flower (or weed), a pinecone that looked funny, a pretty leaf, and he doesn't think you'll want them... he just likes to show you stuff

one day he's waiting for you in your room, you just had to run across the street to grab something for your mother from a neighbour, he couldn't come because he wasn't supposed to be over when your parents aren't home

and he's poking around for fun

not spying or snooping, you always let him look through your things bc you have nothing to hide, when the spine of a book catches his eye

it looks like a photo album, but when he pulled it out he wasn't surprised to see a picture of the two of you stuck to the front, and also little heart stickers. it was your favourite picture, eddie was in his throne, and you were across his lap, legs flopping over the armrest. you were both smiling so wide for the picture, because it had been the day eddie made a dnd campaign based on your favourite movie for your birthday, and you two had exchanged your first 'i love yous' in front of hellfire because you couldn't contain your love anymore (i should write a full imagine for this me thinks)

but when he opened it he realized it was a scrap book

the inside cover page was your character from that day (your fav character from the movie)

and the next page was filled with flowers, all pressed flat and dry, assembled intricately around post-it notes, taped down with little passages on them. some were quotes. some were reasons you loved eddie. some were little memories you didn't want to forget.

he was so fixated on the book that he had to sit down, his eyes glossing over from reading all the sweet things you thought about him

it was more real, seeing things you'd written without assuming eddie would see it. it was your real, pure feelings for him.

he flipped thru the pages to find all sorts of things like that. notes he'd written you & left in your locker or passed to you in class. tickets to movies or shows you'd gone to.

a tear landed on the page, and it shocked eddie. he was crying. he was so happy. it made no sense to him, how someone like you could invest all your time and love into him.

his heart was so full

"awh, baby," you'd say from the doorway, leaning on it. "it wasn't supposed to make you cry."

and he'd discard the book beside him, saying nothing but opening his arms so you would come sit with him.

and of course you did, straddling him, and letting him bury his head in your shoulder. he sniffled, his shoulder shaking gently from the overwhelming feelings he was having. he'd never ever felt like this.

"it's beautiful, thank you for making that."

and he'd also collected everything you'd ever given him, and he would for sure be making one of this to keep at his house.

you would rub his hair, soothing him and whispering sweet things, reminding him that you love him, and more importantly that he was worth all the love. you wanted him to know he deserved it. deserved the whole damn world <3

"okay but check this out"

and you'd take him over to a shelf that had the popsicle stick diorama of your childhood treehouse and took it down.

he'd noticed it had a hinge on the back, but he hadn't put it there

you had carefully cut the glue to the roof so it could open like a hatch, and inside you'd made it even better, painting it to actually look like the fort, and adding some little doll furniture. it was an idea dustin had thrown out while they were making it but he'd never been inside.

he wanted to ask if it was accurate but there was more

there were all kinds of things stuffed in there, it looked like a squirrel was living in there.

and he realized it was the spoils of adventure that he'd brought you. pinecones, rocks, a fake quarter, the monopoly dog, a gum wrapper with a joke on it

and he wanted to cry again but he didn't, instead just put the treehouse away, and pulled you in for the biggest bear hug ever.

he picked you up and spun you around a few time, before walking you over to the bed so he could drop you on it, climbing on top of you to kiss you, and so eddie show you how much he really appreciated it

[phonydiaries]

Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3 

---

It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning. 

Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night. 

You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference). 

“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively. 

For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table. 

His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars. 

One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain. 

“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page. 

The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book. 

“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.” 

As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters. 

It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.

Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him. 

“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility. 

When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall. 

“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him. 

Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly. 

“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each. 

“All gone.” 

Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a  pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.

“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”

At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark. 

“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.” 

P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain. 

“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really. 

By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer. 

[rhettabbotts]

practice makes perfect - pornstar!rhett abbott x reader

pairing: pornstar!rhett abbott x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: rhett wants to prepare you before your first day on set.

warnings: 18+ only. age gap. fingering. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. oral (f). squirting. rhett’s hairy chest.

a/n: i just wanted to give everyone a little taste of the man that is pornstar rhett! i’m so excited to world build and share more of this story! i hope you enjoy! <3

“You’re gonna have to relax, doll,” Rhett cooed as he spread your thighs apart. “You can’t be this stiff in front of the camera.”

“I’m just nervous,” you muttered timidly. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re gonna be a star, honey. We just gotta loosen you up. Here, sit up.”

Rhett’s strong arms pulled you into a sitting position, his large hands massaged your biceps gently. His cobalt blue eyes looked into yours and you fought the urge to look away. He was intimidating, but not in a scary way. He was larger than life in your eyes. And you were just a girl from a small town who barely had anything figured out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll. Promise. C’mon, shake it out,” he held you by the shoulders and shook you lightly, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. “There it is, there’s that smile.”

He laid you back and started to place tender kisses against your neck, his lips burning a trail down your body in their descent. The day old stubble scratched across your sensitive skin. The soft glow coming from the lamp on the bedside table created a calming environment. At least it wasn’t hot, bright studio lights.

“You taste so sweet. Can’t wait to get my mouth on that beautiful pussy. Gonna taste like a damn peach,” Rhett spoke with a slight growl.

Your breath stuttered as he mouthed the edge of your panties. They weren’t special. A pale pink pair with frilly lining. His tongue ran along your folds through the cotton, flicking against your clit before doing the same motion a few more times. You could feel the cool air hitting against the wet spot and it sent shivers over your body.

Rhett didn’t waste much time pulling the panties to the side and dove right in. Expert tongue pointedly thrusting into your dripping hole. The lewd noises of his ministrations filled the large room. A sheen of sweat covered your bodies and you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking against his face.

“Goddamn… fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” Rhett mumbled before wrapping his lips around your swollen bud. The suction caused a scream to erupt from you and your juices covered his mouth and chin as your release hit you forcefully.

He slowed his movements but he didn’t pull back, instead he just slid two thick fingers into your fluttering hole. It didn’t take him long to find that special spot inside, curling his fingers and making a ‘come hither’ motion.

Your thighs trembled and your whimpers were loud and wanton. Rhett pulled away from you long enough to start running his mouth.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a damn leaf. You’re so damn sensitive. I bet I could make you come again if I just told you to. So eager to please. Such a good little girl. They’re gonna love you, sugar. Now, c’mon. Come for me, little girl.”

You came once more, this time harder than the first and you couldn’t hide the way you felt a little embarrassed at the sound of your wetness. You nearly soaked his hand. He hadn’t even pulled his fingers out before he was attaching his mouth to your cunt once more. Your third orgasm came quickly after the second and you drenched his face once more.

Rhett pulled away with a satisfied grin on his face, your release trailing down his chin and into his chest hair.

“Just as delicious as I thought. You whine like that in the movies and you’ll have every guy blowing their load in their pants,” he joked as he wiped your juices off with the back of his hand. You didn’t want to tell him but you were even more nervous. Because if Rhett wasn’t your scene partner, then how the hell would anyone ever make you come the way he just did?

[beansprean]

A mini comic for "Your Biggest Fan" by @phasmama (part 1 of ?)

I just love comic-fying fics idk!! why dont u commission me about it

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Knees up of Guillermo, wearing brown chinos and a short sleeved peach shirt unbuttoned to his chest, sitting down heavily at the edge of his cot beneath the stairs. He looks flushed, sweaty, and tired, elbows planted on his knees as he slumps forward with a heavy sigh, holding something in his dangling hands. His phone is laying face up on the bed nearby. A small icon in the top left corner reads '82 degrees Fahrenheit', which is about 28 degrees Celsius. 1b. Close up of Guillermo's hands as they shift to reveal what he's holding: a vintage folding fan with a brassy silver-tipped guard inlaid with pink rose patterns. He holds it closed, one hand on either end, a riot of colors on the folded leaf suggesting an intricate pattern within. 1c. Repeat. Guillermo flips the fan open with the rivet in his right hand to reveal the design within: an intricate painting of people in robes and dresses standing in front of a series of columns and statues. 1c. Zoom out to wide shot; waist up. Guillermo tips his head back, eyes closed, and smiles in bliss as he fans himself, little swirls of blue snowflakes indicating the cooling effect. 1d. Repeat. The phone sitting on the bed beside him suddenly lights up, a red alarm-clock-shaped icon springing up with a loud ring, reading 'back to work!' Guillermo opens his eyes and frowns, irritated. In a swift motion, he snaps the fan closed and swings it around to tap at the screen, turning the alarm off without looking.

2a. Chest up of Guillermo at 3/4 angle as he slumps over with another heavy sigh, eyes closing as he begins to sweat and flush again from the heat. His right hand holds the closed fan up idly near his face. 2b. Extreme close up of Guillermo's mouth as he absently touches the tip of the fan to his lower lip, pressing into the pink flesh. 2c. Reverse shot, wide, Guillermo in profile in the foreground and the curtain to his room beyond. It is yanked open suddenly to reveal Nandor standing beyond, wearing a brass colored tunic and sleeveless fur overcoat and posed with one hand on his hip. He shouts imperiously, "Guillermo!" and prepares to give orders. Guillermo doesn't even flinch at the intrusion, just blearily opens his eyes halfway with the fan still pressed to his mouth.

3a. Waist up of Guillermo at 3/4 angle as he rolls his head up to look at Nandor with an expectant frown, closed fan held up in his right hand. 3b. Waist up of Nandor at a diagonal angle, background all black with a white starburst of shock as Nandor stares down at Guillermo, frozen and gray, with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 3c. Wide shot, shoulders up of Guillermo in profile in the foreground, Nandor knees up in the background. Guillermo looks at him with half-open eyes, closed fan poised in front of his face and a question mark drifting around his head. Nandor continues to stare with the largest eyes possible, frozen in place with one arm still outstretched to hold the curtain aside. 3d. Repeat. Nandor finally snaps out of it and swings his free arm up to point accusingly at Guillermo, shouting angrily, "What are you doing with that, Guillermo? That is not a toy for naughty familiars to be playing with!" Guillermo opens his eyes fully and looks down at the fan in surprise.

4a. Shoulders up of Guillermo staring in surprise at his open hand as Nandor quickly snatches the fan from him. 4b. Waist up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV as he leans away, holding the closed fan in his right hand and hiding it protectively behind his left cheek. He stares wide eyed and flustered down at Guillermo and whines, "This is very special, given to me by the Queen of Laszlo's homeland! 4c. Waist up of them both in profile as Guillermo stands from his bed, rubbing sweat from his cheek with a forearm. Nandor takes a step back in alarm, still holding the fan protectively out of reach. Guillermo says, "I'm sorry, Master. I shouldn't have touched it. What did you need my help with?" 4d. Repeat. Nandor calms and straightens up, looking away nervously as he replies, "Oh! Yes. I would like to have a cooling bath. Come attend me. Guillermo slumps again and sighs, obediently responding "Of course, Master." 4e. Later; full body of Nandor lounging in an old fashioned brass tub filled with ice water on a hazy green background. The tub seems much too small for him; he is sitting up with his elbows perched on the far end and his left leg bunched up in front of him, knee poking out from the water. His right leg is fully extended and hanging over the edge of the tub. Nandor's hair is gathered up in a messy bun and he is holding the fan in his right hand, staring at it thoughtfully as he opens and closes it with a thumb. /end ID

[crypt-keepers-den]

A request of a tav having an abusive ex and astarion finding out. Much fluff please AHHH I LOVED YOUR LAST FIC OF ASTARION KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK

[Astarion x reader]

warnings: Mentions of abuse and unhealthy relationship situations (swearing in this one), trauma bonding for Tav and Aster enjoy <3

The fire pit crackles as you throw another log onto the dying pile, your thoughts are swirling in a vicious tidal pool, your stomach churns, unbeknownst to you a pair of carmine eyes observe your slouched figure. "Little Love youll give yourself a hunch sitting like that", you jump at the sound of his voice, hiding your tear stained face from his view, your words muffled as you do your best to clean your face.

He admits a soft huff when you dont tease back like normal, the weight on the log seams to shift as he sits beside you, his voice is soft and carries like a leaf in the wind "sweetness whatever is the matter? youve seemed off since we left that tavern", a lump catches in your throat, of all the taverns, in all of baulders gate, why did karlach pick that one.

your ex partner had been there, you had hoped to hide from them in the back corners of the dimly lit tavern but to no avail; they sauntered up to the table like they owned the place "Tav long time no see how are you" forcing you into an all but too tight hug, the sickly sweet smile on their face as they trapped you in their arms, your anxiety and claustrophobia hit an all time high. You firmly place your hands on their chest to push yourself out of their arms, they catch one of your wrists rather roughly, definately causing bruising, a small yelp emits from your lips. You wish your camp mates had been nearby to help you out of the situation but it appeared that they were off doing their own thing in the midst of the tavern party, "you wont run off on me this time sweetheart" their grip on you is tight and unmoving, memories of your last time together flash across your mind, bruises, wounds, tears and tantrums. They were going to hurt you again, their attempt to drag you to one of the many tavern bedrooms brings you back to your senses, your fight or flight kicks in, your elbow connects with their stomach allowing you to make a break for it "YOU LITTLE SHIT" their words are drowned out by the wind howling in your ears as you continued your sprint to camp.

Astarion studies your face, your eyes look distant and your hand keeps rubbing at your wrists. "Little darling whatever happened?, you seemed so excited for your night out on the town" you dont answer, your voice faulters as fresh tears make their way down your face. In the beginning it startles him, but he can see how much your hurting, he goes to gently grab your hands to help relax you, his eyes come in contact with the purple bruise that marks your beautiful skin "Dove when did this happen? It looks fresh" His fingers press against the bruise causing you to wince, his eyes watch as your face contorts in pain and sadness "Darling i hope you know you can talk to me, like i did to you when i needed to" his fingers gently stroke your cheek, wiping away tears.

you regain your voice, but its hoarse from crying "tonight in the tavern i saw someone, someone i didnt want to see" he nods giving your hand an affectionate squeeze, you would speak in your own time and he had all of eternity to hear you out. "My...Ex partner was there" "im sensing bad blood between you" you nod before guesturing to your bruised wrist "we were together years back and we broke up because...they liked using their hand on me" Astarion's brows scrunch together as he pieces the words together "Darling are you saying they used to beat you?" he doesnt need a verbal response when he sees the pain in your eyes, now hes seething with rage; who in the right mind would hurt a sweet thing like you, the very same creature who had comforted him and offered their neck to him.

"That Bastard I'll skin them" the rise in his voice causing you to jump, astarion takes your bruised wrist, pressing soft kisses to the marked flesh "who in the right mind would damage such a wonderful work of art, a feast for the gods eyes, should they ever step within 10 foot of you again my love you tell me, you promised me that we'd hunt down cazzador and make him pay for what he did to me, now ill make a promise to you my little darling" his kisses slowly making their way up your arm before landing on your lips "i will protect you from all harm, none more will befall that beautiful mind of yours" he presses a kiss to your forehead, "come darling you look exhausted, youll sleep with me tonight, ill watch over you" he takes you to his tent and tucks you up amongst his many blankets and pillows, his fingers playing with your hair until you fall asleep, "my sweet if only you knew just how far I'd go to ensure your happiness" he presses a final kiss to your forehead before curling up with you.

He kept to his word you'd never be plagued by that ex of yours again infact no one would, ever again.

I really hope you enjoyed this, its my first time writing for this kind of scenario <3 thank you for your request and by all means pop by again and request something else if you liked this one

[moonstruckme]

i love almost everything about rainy days and i was wondering if you could write something where reader is lying in the grass while sprinkles of rain are drizzling over them bc it makes them feel calm and remus finds them is confused but either joins in or maybe sits next to them with an umbrella while they do their thing

Thanks for requesting lovely! This got very sappy haha but I hope you like it <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 661 words

The earth never smells as sweet as when it rains. Even when it’s only drizzling, like now, everything about the world seems soothed. You can practically feel the grass underneath you perking up, the flowers gulping eagerly, the earthworms relaxing into newly softened soil. 

You’re enjoying the cool sprinkling of raindrops on your face, having resigned yourself to having to wash the mud out of your hair and clothes later to lie on the ground, face tipped reverently towards the weeping sky. 

You hear the squish of footsteps coming towards you, but you don’t open your eyes until Remus speaks. “Dove, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I think,” you tease him, “that if I lie here long enough, I’ll grow moss.” 

He chuckles. “You’ll get sick, is what’ll happen.” 

“That’s an old wives’ tale.” 

“Hypothermia isn’t.” 

“Remus.” You reach up, wrapping a hand around his ankle. Your fingers are delicate around his achilles’ tendon. “C’mon, it’s beautiful out.” You close your eyes and inhale deeply, imagining you can feel life blooming in your lungs. 

When you open them again, Remus is looking down at you like you’re a particularly pretty puzzle, half befuddlement and half fondness. 

“You should try it,” you encourage him. “Lay down with me.” 

Remus mutters something about you both catching cold, but a moment later you're shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip, the only warm parts of you where you’re touching him. You lie in silence, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the earth and the susurrus of the trees as droplets fall from leaf to leaf. You feel the weight of the clouds over you like a blanket, pressing you gently into the soil as it shifts about to make room for you. 

“Isn’t it nice?” you whisper after a while. 

He hums in reply, and you know that he’s feeling the lulling effects of the drizzle. After a moment, the rain stops, and you open your eyes to find Remus leaning over you, his head shielding yours from the rain even as it drips from his nose and the ends of his hair onto your face. You look at each other for a moment, and you admire the way water droplets have caught in his eyelashes and slickened the contours of his face. He seems to be doing a similar perusal of your features, because a tiny smile graces his lips before he touches them to yours. 

You tilt your chin slightly upwards to meet him, but there’s no hunger in the kiss, no desperation. Only a mutual adoration and a sense of shared understanding and gratitude for the fact that you get to experience this world together, at the same time, in the same place. That you’ve found each other in time to lie on the grass on this rainy day. 

Remus’ mouth is warmer than yours and the rainwater is sweet on his lips. Soon you’re smiling too, uncontrollably, and you have to break the kiss before your teeth can clank against his. 

“What’re you giggling about?” he asks fondly. 

“I just—” you laugh, shoulders shaking against the earth “—it’s such a thing, you know? Kissing in the rain. It’s such a cliche.” 

“I think what you mean to say,” Remus says, leaning down to peck you once more, but giving up when you only descend into giggles again, “is that I’m a classic romantic and you love it.” 

“I do,” you say sincerely, grinning up at him. “You are.” 

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll make you a deal. We lie here for a couple more minutes, and then we go inside, shower, and you let me make you some tea.” 

You have the urge to grab Remus by the collar and press your lips to every inch of his face until there’s nothing left of him but rainwater and kisses. But there’ll be time for that later. “If you insist,” you say, and he smiles as he lays back down beside you.