#thank god it wasn't the actual exam but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuyusboyfriend · 8 months

Note

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez imagine #jeong yunho #yunho drabble #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #ateez x atiny #yuyus asks ☆

1K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

The Younger Kind Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you helped him with his dating app, Bradley goes out with a woman who should have snagged his interest. But it's a little hard to pay attention to someone else when he's constantly thinking about you. And it doesn't help that Nat easily calls him out on his crush.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3500 words

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

Check out my masterlist for more!

For a split second on Friday night, you had managed to convince yourself that the sooner you helped Bradley get matched up with someone, the better it would be for you personally.

You'd be able to stop thinking about him as a hot, single dad and be able to focus on him as the hot, taken dad who you occasionally babysat for. You could still go over and watch Noah when he and his girlfriend went out for a date night, which you wouldn't mind doing at all.

And that's why you had helped him get his dating app sorted out. Because the sooner you could stop thinking about eating popcorn with him on his couch, both of you in sweats, the better. There was no way that man was interested in you. Sure, he was a little flirty at times. Yeah, he had brushed your cheek when he put the crown back on your head. But it was probably all because he could tell that the babysitter had a crush on him, and he was trying to be nice.

You were surprised to hear from him on Wednesday morning when you were getting out of the shower before class.

Bradley Bradshaw: Are you available tonight?

God, it hadn't taken long for him to chat with one of the women on the app and get a date set up.

I'm free. What time do you want me to watch Noah?

You felt your shoulders sag as you got dressed. You needed to chill out. The only thing you should be worrying about later this evening was Noah and studying for your exams.

Bradley Bradshaw: I'm meeting someone at 6:30. Be here at 6?

Yeah. You would be there.

When you pulled into his driveway at 5:45, you were happy to see his Bronco was already there. You were also annoyed that Greyson was blowing up your phone. You knew what he wanted, but you had been avoiding him all week. You were beginning to think that this "ex with benefits" arrangement wasn't really working for you.

After shoving your phone into your bag, you knocked on the front door and called out, "Hi! It's me."

"We're in the kitchen."

You followed Bradley's voice, and when you spotted Noah at the table, his face lit up as he mispronounced your name. You were instantly smiling back, but that didn't last long. Because when you saw Bradley standing at the stove, he was wearing his flight jumpsuit tied low around his waist with a tight, black tee shirt.

"Hey, Princess," he said, glancing at you over his shoulder. And with just two words and some black fabric, you were a little turned on.

"How are you two boys doing?" you asked as casually as you could while watching Bradley's biceps stretching his shirt sleeves.

'Good!" Noah cheered, eating a bowl of dry cereal with his hands.

"Fine," Bradley replied. "Be a lot better if I had time to go grocery shopping. Thanks for making the spaghetti and meatballs for us." He turned to look at you again, his eyes lingering on your lips.

"Don't you need to get ready for your date?" you asked, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Yeah, but I'm starving. Need to eat something before dinner."

You looked at the pan on the stove. "What are you trying to make?"

"Eggs," he replied, turning to look down at you with a small smile. "Trying being the operative word."

"You're useless in here," you told him, pushing him toward the hallway. "Go get ready and I'll make you some eggs." His body was warm and hard, and it was clearly a mistake for you to touch him like this.

"You don't have to do that," he said, laughing as he pretended you were actually capable of pushing him around.

"I actually don't know how you managed to survive this long without me," you said, pushing him all the way to his bedroom door before he surrendered.

"You have a valid point."

You felt buoyant as you walked back to the kitchen and made Bradley an onion and cheese omelet while you sang with Noah. "You want ants on a log?" you asked, tousling his hair.

"I love them!" he cheered, but when you checked the refrigerator, there were no carrots left. Pretty much the only thing in there was the French vanilla coffee creamer, which instantly made you smile. You took it out and started brewing some coffee in Bradley's fancy coffee maker.

"Is this for me?" Bradley asked, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt right in front of you and nodding to the omelet.

"Yep, should hold you over until your actual dinner," you said as he grabbed a fork and took a huge bite.

He moaned. He literally moaned as he ate the food you made for him. You watched him take bite after bite until it was all gone. You wished he'd use his mouth on you next.

"That was delicious. Thank you."

You just nodded and cleared your throat. "Mind if I take Noah out in the car with me? I thought he might like the bayside playground."

"Sure. I'll put his car seat in your car before I leave," Bradley said, kissing Noah on his head.

Once again, you thought about him kissing you there as he smiled and headed out for his date.

"Noah, feel like going to the playground?"

"I want ants on the logs," he insisted, having finished his cereal.

You sighed, and just as you heard Bradley pull out of the driveway, you decided to see how much money he kept behind the TV. A hundred bucks. You could go grocery shopping for a decent amount of food with a hundred dollars.

"Should we go buy more carrots and raisins?" you asked Noah, tucking the money into your pocket. "You can pick out a treat, and then I'll make you ants on the logs before bedtime."

You ended up at the grocery store, trying to make a game out of everything to keep him entertained while you tried to maximize the money. Hopefully Bradley wouldn't be annoyed, but you figured he needed as much help as he could get. Noah was sweet, but doing everything by yourself was too hard.

"More cereal?" you asked, and you let Noah pick out Cheerios. "And milk this time?"

When headed back to Bradley's house with ninety-eight dollars worth of groceries and Noah in tow, you couldn't help but imagine staying all night and getting more meals ready for them.

You managed to make Noah's snack while you unpacked the groceries. "I need my crown!" he said, running to his bedroom and returning with his yellow, construction paper crown. "Get yours, too!"

You ran your fingers along his cheek. "I don't know what happened to mine. Should we make a new one?"

Noah laughed and took you by the hand. "It's in daddy's room."

You let him lead you down the hallway. "Is it?" you asked, entering Bradley's room all the way for the first time. It was tidy and it smelled like him. But you stopped short when you saw it.

Your purple crown was hanging on one of the bedposts.

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

Bradley was actually enjoying himself. His date with Talia was going way better than either of his previous dates. Not only did she tell him she loves kids, she asked to see some pictures of Noah.

Bradley paused for a beat as he swiped past the selfie of you in the crown and the photo you had taken for his dating profile. Then he showed Talia some pictures of Noah, and she made a fuss over how adorable he was. But now Bradley was thinking about what you and Noah might be doing at home right now. He got so distracted he barely heard what Talia was asking him.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, watching her lick chocolate cake from her fork with mild interest.

She giggled softly. "I was asking if you wanted to plan for a second date? Maybe this weekend? When we can stay out later? You said you had a reliable babysitter."

Bradley scrutinized her face for a moment. She was pretty. She seemed really sweet. She wanted to go out with him again.

"How about I send you a message? Maybe we can make something work."

When Bradley said goodbye outside the restaurant, Talia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, grazing his mustache as she pulled away.

"Goodnight, Bradley. Talk soon," she said with a grin. But he felt nothing.

During the short drive home, he tried to convince himself to take Talia up on her second date offer, but it just wasn't working. But when he pulled into his driveway next to your car, he found himself jumping out of the Bronco and jogging up his front steps to get inside as quickly as he could.

"Hi," you whispered, looking up from your spot on the couch. You had a textbook open on your lap, and you were wearing the paper crown. Either you or Noah must have retrieved it from his bedroom. The idea of you in there thrilled him a little too much.

"Hi," he replied with a grin. "How was Noah?"

"Good. How was your date?"

"Good." His heart was beating a little faster as you set your book aside and straightened up on the couch.

"Oh. You think you'll go out with her again?"

Bradley couldn't help but think you looked a little disappointed. "Not sure."

"I'm beginning to think you're just really, very picky, Bradley."

He blew out a breath, dropping onto the couch next to you, loving the way you said his name. "Huh. I never considered that."

"You don't like martinis. You don't like the opera. You don't like women under twenty-four or over forty. All those martini sipping, opera loving grannies of San Diego might be just what you need."

Bradley was doubled over laughing, looking at your smirk.

"I mean, who does that even leave for you to date?" you asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

You.

Jesus Christ. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. There was no chance in hell that was ever going to happen. Which was a real shame, because you made him laugh every single time he was with you.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but Noah and I went grocery shopping."

"You did?" he asked, his laughter turning to surprise.

"Yeah. I used the cash behind the TV," you told him with a wince. "I hope that was okay. I didn't want to bother you during dinner."

Okay? It was more than okay. He couldn't believe you had done that for him and Noah.

"I also made you dinner for tomorrow night. Chicken fajitas that you can reheat."

Now he was just staring at you blankly. "You don't have to do any of that stuff."

You just shrugged. "If you don't want me to, I won't. But honestly, Bradley? It looks like you could use the help around here. You're kind of shit in the kitchen."

"You caught onto that, huh?" he asked, involuntarily inching closer to you on the couch. "What gave it away?"

"Oh, I guess the fact that Noah asked me about a hundred times to leave more food in the little plastic containers for him."

Bradley reached out and ran his finger along your crown. "Did you wear that to the store?"

Your eyes fluttered closed briefly. "No. It wasn't until almost bedtime that Noah wanted to wear our crowns. I didn't know you kept it."

He just nodded. He should be embarrassed that it had been hanging on his bed.

"I like your bedroom," you whispered.

Bradley swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say, but you beat him to it.

"Why aren't you sure about a second date?"

His response was out before he could consider it. "Aren't there supposed to be sparks?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Ideally."

"Didn't feel them," he replied with a shrug.

"Shame."

He watched you stand and stretch, just like last time. But your shirt rode up, and Bradley could see your skin, and he wanted to press his lips there. He quickly stood as well. "Um, I'll get the carseat out of your car," he mumbled. "And if you're going to insist on being exceptionally helpful again in the future, I'll leave you my credit card for groceries."

"Okay," you replied, reaching up on your toes and gently putting the crown on his head. "Want to put that back in your room for safe keeping?"

Every ounce of his being wanted to suggest you take it there yourself and wait for him.

"Okay," he told you instead.

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

Bradley paced around the hangar, waiting for his turn to hit the skies.

"What is your problem?" Nat asked him as she sat calmly on one of the benches. "I thought you'd be completely chill right now. You've been on a bunch of dates."

Bradley stopped and looked at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Nat just rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't get your rocks off yet?"

"No," he practically growled. "I haven't even been on a second date."

"You know, you can have one without the other, right?"

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "I don't want to start doing that."

Nat stood up and stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his chest to stop him pacing. He hadn't even been aware he had started pacing again.

"How long has it been since you were intimate with someone?"

Bradley shrugged and didn't want to look at her. "A year."

Nat wrapped her arms around him as well as she could with them both wearing their flight suits. He felt instantly better. He should have known it would be okay to talk to her about stuff.

"Oh, okay. I get it now. You need it to be special."

"Kind of," he replied, looking down at her as she nodded up at him.

"I'll stop busting your balls about it then."

"Appreciate that."

"Why don't you tell me about your dates?" she prompted, patting him on the shoulder as she released him.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Not much to tell. Rebel just wanted to hookup. One didn't like kids. The one I went out with the other day was okay. I should have wanted a second date; I know she certainly did. But there wasn't anything really drawing me in? I don't know, Nat."

"Well, how's the babysitter working out?"

Bradley felt himself relax when he thought about you. "Oh, she's great. She's so funny," he said, smiling as he thought about you picking on him for being useless in the kitchen. "She always eats Skittles. And she knows the most random music. Did I mention she knows how to cook? Like really cook? She's good at it. And she likes fancy coffee creamers just like me. She even took Noah to the grocery store with her, so my fridge has actual food in it. And Noah asks for her all the time. She brings him coloring books, and she taught him how to sing the alphabet song backwards."

"Oh my God," Nat said, grinning wildly now. "You have a crush on your babysitter."

Bradley knew he was blushing. He could feel the immediate rush of heat to his face.

"What does she look like?" Nat asked, looking smug as hell.

Bradley huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing the redness to recede from his cheeks. "Real cute."

Nat squealed when Bradley took his phone out and found the selfie you had sent to him. "You took a picture of her!"

He shook his head. "She sent it to me. When I was out last weekend. She and Noah made the paper crowns, and she sent me a picture of Noah first."

When Nat started to stare into his soul, he should have known he was in deep shit. "And you asked her for a selfie?" she said, exuding confidence. He nodded and she said, "You asked your cute babysitter to send you a selfie when you were on a date with another woman. No wonder your dates aren't working out!" She slapped him hard on the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're thinking about getting your dick wet with the babysitter."

Bradley absolutely could not deny that. He'd been thinking about you in a lot of different ways, including some that were definitely not rated G.

"Nat, just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean I'm going to shoot my shot with her."

"Well, why not?" she asked, putting her helmet on as they got called out to their Super Hornets.

Bradley scoffed as he followed her out into the sunlight. "She's twelve years younger than me. She's still finishing school. I have a fucking child and a lot of baggage. The list goes on and on. I'm going to focus on finding someone suitable. Someone a little older."

"If you like her, I say go for it. But don't just fuck her because she's fun and you think she's cute. Don't do that to her. Or Noah."

Bradley was more confused than ever at the moment, and he needed to clear his head before he took off.

"I wouldn't do that to myself either, Nat." He wasn't just trying to hookup with some random woman; he could do that after an hour at the Hard Deck if he really wanted to.

"Well I want to meet her. This weekend. I'll take you out on Saturday night and meet her then."

He sighed. "I have a date on Friday. Let me see if she's even free to watch Noah both nights."

"Great," Nat replied, turning toward her own aircraft. "And then I'll be the judge of the matter of you getting your dick wet," she called over her shoulder.

Bradley cringed as the ground staff all looked at him as he power walked away.

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

Bradley asked if you could babysit Noah on back to back nights. Friday and Saturday. Was he already planning a first date followed immediately by a second date? He had probably really hit it off with someone over the app chat feature. It was the only thing that made sense, and he was just trying to cover all of his bases.

You could watch Noah both nights if you cancelled your plans to hang out with Greyson. The fact that you would rather get to see Bradley for a total of thirty minutes over spending the night with Greyson was telling.

Yeah, I can come over both nights if you pay me a bonus in fancy coffee from that shop again.

When you checked your phone at lunchtime while you ate between your classes, Bradley's response made you laugh.

Bradley Bradshaw: You mean I have to flirt with the barista again? Princess, I'll get kicked out permanently.

You were smiling nonstop as you typed out a response.

Do it for me and my caffeine needs? Besides, I doubt the barista will mind being chatted up by you in particular.

You really shouldn't be encouraging this. It was not a good idea. This man was not available for you.

Bradley Bradshaw: Oh yeah, Princess? What's that supposed to mean?

Shouldn't he be working right now? Didn't he have a jet he should be flying around in? You couldn't help yourself. You were too excited by the prospect of flirting with him.

Have you seen yourself? I have full confidence that your flirting capabilities can score me a free coffee.

You hustled along to your next class, but when you checked your phone again at the end of the day, he had texted you back again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Good to know. See you tomorrow.

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

Bradley wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he managed to leave base a little early on Friday, giving him time to stop at the coffee shop. He picked Noah up with your French vanilla coffee in his cup holder, and now the Bronco smelled sweet and reminded him of you.

"Can I play with my babysitter?" Noah asked as Bradley buckled him into his car seat.

Bradley smiled. "Sure, bub. You can play with her."

"She's my favorite," Noah said. "Is she your favorite?"

Bradley nodded at his son and said, "Yeah. She's my favorite, too."

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

And now Nat is about to get involved again. Could be a good thing, could be a bad thing. I hope you enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

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

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

2K notes · View notes

merchelsea · 5 months

Text

sacrifice - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: you and lando have a long distance relationship due to your hard work. you rarely have free time to attend to his races, the only one you actually attend every year is monaco's. you understand things will have to change when lando gets into a crash and that makes you want to be there with him at everytimes.

author’s note: i hate making myself go through this.

word count:

warnings: lets pretend lando crashed duriung the interlagos gp, not the LA one, for the sake of the plot :)

"hey, babe!" you mumbled as you stirred from your nap. originally meant for a quick rest before the race, it turned into a marathon of sleep that spanned the entire duration of the race. checking the timing, you muttered, "shit."

"were you asleep?" he chuckled.

"yeah... I'm sorry babe. I was just trying to catch up on some sleep debt before the race. I am just tired..." you explained with a low rumble. lando always had a away of understanding things. "anyways, how did it go?"

"not so well, i am kind of glad that you didn't watch it, you would've freak out unnecessarely." he sighed

"why? what happened?" you sat up, eyes squeezed shut in alarm.

"it was nothing serious, just a crash." he reassured. the word 'crash' froze you, an unsettling feeling settling in your chest. "I'm fine now; I'm at the hospital doing some tests."

you didn't answer him and he immediately sensed your worry, it was your usual reaction whenever he had an incident. it was your own way to deal with stuff. "I'll have to stay here in brazil for some extra days. we don't want to rush things. everything is alright, but still."

"yeah, I know. how are you feeling? any pain? wasit bad? why are you at the hospital? is there anything they're worried about?" your thoughts rushed out, anxiety evident. you wished you could've been there with him, knowing how much he disliked going through hospitalization alone.

"calm down, baby. I'm fine, no pain. they gave me painkillers for my headache," he began, his voice carrying weariness and sadness. "the crash felt horrible from inside the car, but I've seen the footage, and it wasn't that bad. I don't think they're worried about anything specific, just my racing career," he added with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

"shut up. you know those jokes aren't funny, right?" you retorted, hating his tendency for such jokes. "anyways, I miss you so much. you have no idea." placing your phone on the bed, you awaited his response as you searched for your notebook.

"I know babe, I miss you like crazy too. and i won't be able to be home for some more days, as i told you. i hate it." you both sighed. "but it's okay, i'm glad you weren't here this time."

although you felt the honesty in his words, you could also know that it was pure bullshit. he wanted you to be there more that anything, and the fights you two had over the past weeks showed that clearly.

lando felt your support fading away and, as always, he talked about it with you, but there was nothing you could do, you could not just leave your work and follow him around the world.

your life had to come first. you couldn't be financially dependent. you had never wanted that for yourself.

"I love you, lando. you know that, right?"

"i know. I love you too." anuncomfortable silence lingered, more apparent to him than to you, as you were preoccupied with booking a flight to brazil. "look, I have to hang up to do some exams. I'll call you as soon as I can, yeah?"

"yeah, okay. keep me updated, for the love of god." he laughed and silently hang up.

as soon as you were able to, you called your boss, letting her aware of the whole situation, who, understandingly, granted you a week off, more than you needed. grateful, you expressed your thanks in every single way you could.

as you couldn't just fly there without someone knowing, you called lando's dad to let him know that you were going. he was thankful that his son had found someone who cared so much about him, and as so helped you through everything.

you would obviously be staying at lando's room with him, so you didn't need to worry about that, but there were things you actually needed to deal with and that's where he was an absolute angel, taking care of everything for you.

the flight proved to be torturous; sleep eluded you, your mind consumed by worry for your boyfriend, presently hospitalized in a foreign country that held no appeal for him. the inability to communicate with him intensified your anxiety, and the endurance of such a long flight was a challenge unfamiliar to you.

the only thing keeping you focused on trying to sleep was knowing that you'd see lando soon and that you needed to be sane.

once you arrived in brazil, adam had already sent an uber to pick you up and drop you at the hotel. you were eternally grateful for him. your appreciation deepened when, upon entering the hotel, you found everything seamlessly taken care of, allowing you to reach his son without delay.

he drove you there himself, the casual conversation during the car ride centered uiquely around the topic most dear to both of you—lando's health.

every detail adam shared heightened your awareness; lando was okay, but not as well as he should be. the information failed to ease your mind, creating a lingering unease.

after reaching the hospital, the attending doctor informed you that lando was still asleep but encouraged you to enter. you opened the door to his room, and an immediate sense of tranquility washed over you. lando's peaceful slumber tugged at your heartstrings, and the sight of his features made you want to cry; you had missed him so damn much.

you took his hand, staying by his side as he slept. despite your exhaustion, the anticipation of his awakening kept sleep at bay.

lando woke up and confusedly stared at you for five minutes straight. in his head, he was trying to figure out if you were real or if his desperation had just made you up. you squeezed his hand and that seemed to clear his mind. you were in fact there.

"love?" he muttered, scared of being wrong.

"hey baby" you whispered to him, smiling softly.

"you're here? what are you doing here?" he hurriedly sat up, his expression filled with worry, like he wasn´t the one on a hospital bed.

"i'm here to see you." you extended your hand and let it travel through his face. "got the week off, couldn't leave you alone." his smile was priceless. he rushed his arms around your waist, since you were standing now, and pulled you closer to him, head in your belly.

when he told you he had missed you like crazy, he didn't define it well enough.

he locked his lips with yours as soon as he had a chance. you missed that feeling, you missed it too fucking much. you missed everything about him too fucking much, and maybe this misfortune was just what you needed to realize that something had to change. you couldn't miss him like this all the time.

it was literal hell, for the both of you.

adam entered the room after some time and, from his face, you could see he carried good news.

and you were right. "you are free to leave today, all the exams cameback with positive answers. you still have to stay in brazil, of course, a flight so long could jeopardize your health, so you'll have to stay for a bit longer, but you two can go stay at the hotel for tonight.

you and lando celebrate this little "victory" with each other and then you start talking about going home, anticipating what you'd do.

the room was uncharacteristically quiet as he payed attention to the TV and you lost yourself in your own mind.

"I think I might quit my job." you let out with your head layed in his chest. he twists his head to look at you. "what?" he asks, clearly confused, in his head, trying to figure out where all of this was coming from.

yes, it's true that he didn't like to travel around the world every year and leave you behind, and it's also true that this past year, he felt your support fade away, but he didn't want you to leave your life in second place for him. he knew, and understood, how important for you it was to have your financial independence.

he had started to feel guilty, even though this was not his fault.

you thought and rethought about it during your flight, since it was the only thing you could do. of course you never wanted that, but you also couldn't bare the distance anymore, and his accident showed you that.

you wanted to be there, to be able to celebrate every single one of his podiums by his side and not over the phone, you wanted to be able to hold and support him whenever he needed you to do so.

six years into your relationship, neither of you envisioned it ending anytime soon. if it did, you had your savings, but for now, you craved closeness.

"seriously. i want to be with you. i think i never noticed how affected i was by your absence, but i am a lot." you admitted with a sigh. helistened intently. "I want to be able to be with you."

"are you for real?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "I don't want you to feel pressured to do that. I love you whether you're here or on the other side of the world."

"I know, lan. it's not like I would stop working. I just have to find something within my capacities that allows me to travel around the world with you. and it's not like you're going to break up with me, leaving me with nothing. I have my money."

"it's not like I'm gonna break up with you, period." he smirked. "we're a forever thing."

turning you around as if you were as light as a pillow, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

665 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 21 days

Note

Paul Aron

Long distance relationship

Y/n surprises him at home either the help of his brother Ralf and they spend the day together - all fluff

A/N: My first time writing for Paul, hope everyone loves it, he's such a cutie

"Thank you so much for doing this Ralf," Your boyfriends brother smiles at you brightly, knowing that Paul has done nothing but talk about how much he's missed you for the past 2 weeks. F2 was on a huge break and he was back home in Estonia visiting family.

You couldn't visit due to staying for university and exam season. "If it gets him to shut up, I'll do this a thousand times," He jokes and you laugh with him. "Has he really been that bad?" You ask, you knew Paul was missing you alot, the phone calls and facetime calls proved that.

"He's down baddddd, oh god he never stops talking about you. Which I mean I love my baby brother is happy, but I need him to stop bothering me, Y/n." You laugh even harder as Ralf helps you get into the car.

"Speak of the devil," Ralf shows you the phone and answers the call, quickly putting it on speaker. "Ralffff, she's not answering." Paul whines and you quickly cover your mouth to stop the snicker from escaping. "Jesus man, get yourself together. She's probably busy studying." Ralf groans, like this wasn't the first time he was having this talk.

Putting the car in drive, Ralf takes you to where Paul is. "Yeah, but she always answers me, even if I wake her up." Ralf gags, clearly hating this so much. "Paul, she's probbaly busy, let your girlfriend breathe for once." You listen, and smile as your phone vibrates and you see a text from Paul asking if you were okay and not to study to hard, to take care of yourself.

Ralf keeps talking to Paul and you think about how much you miss your boyfriend and seeing his dorky smile, fluffy blonde hair, and his arms around you. It made you choke up just a little bit. Pulling up to the house you smile seeing the familiar building. "Hey, Paul think you could come help me with the groceries?" Paul groans but hangs up.

Ralf snorts, and watches as the buildings door opens and Paul looks up, stopping as he sees you in the car you wave. "OH MY GOD!" You giggle hearing the muffled scream and push the door open as your wrapped up in strong arms, goofy smiles, and fluffy blonde hair.

"You're here, oh, you're actually here." Paul laughs and pulls you even closer, you soak up the moment. Ralf smiles, and grabs your bags letting you two have a moment. "I've missed you," He whispers and you play with the ends of his hair. "So I've heard," Paul pulls back and groans. "You heard everything?" Nodding your head, your boyfriend blushes making you laugh and hug him again.

"That's okay though, cause I missed you just as much."

#formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 x you #formula 2 fic #formula 2 blurb #formula 2 fluff #formula 2 scenario #formula 2 #paul aron x reader #paul aron x you #paul aron #paul aron x y/n #paul aron fluff #paul aron imagine

148 notes · View notes

idyllcy · 10 months

Text

saying we're just friends, thinking you're my man

word count: 11.3k

warnings: non-explicit smut, heavy making out

summary: Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It's a textbook relationship.

Tim can't count the number of times he's read a fic like this.

In fact, he can already imagine the tags on your love story. Strangers to lovers, Friends to Lovers, Fateful Encounter, Alternate Universe - College, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn... the list goes on. You'd probably have a field day trying to finish the story inspired by the one the two of you experienced. Though, as he brushes his fingers through your hair in the kisses of the morning sun, he wouldn't have it any other way — even if he couldn't form a coherent thought when you were awake and talking to him. God, you make him weak.

In the blaring heat of August at orientation, you landed right at his feet after getting shoved around in the crowd of students.

"You good?" He holds his hand for you, and you take it, pulling yourself up.

"Sorry! They're quite a crowd." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm, uh—" Your name tumbled past your lips, an apologetic smile on your face, explaining to him that you were trying to get to the English building through the crowd of students. Tim told you his name (only first in fear you'd recognize his last) and showed you a shortcut to the building. You had taken the messily scribbled image, airdropped it onto your phone, and you had rushed off with a thank you yelled into the air. Tim hadn't thought much about you. It wasn't as if you'd be in the same department as him. He also had minimal GE classes, so—

Two days later, you sit next to him in his only GE class. He was required to take English regardless of his previous experience with it. His AP classes hadn't been kind enough to remove the requirement. Not even the fives on both of his English APs could have helped him avoid the expository hell all freshmen were required to take. So, he meets eyes with you as you apologize for sitting next to him, confessing that he was the only face you knew.

"So? What's your major?" You blink at him curiously as the class waits for the professor.

"I'm in Cybersecurity."

"Woah." You mumble. "Stem..."

"You?"

"Creative Writing." You grin. "Well, build your own major. But Creative Writing nonetheless."

"A writer?"

"Yeah."

Tim had watched as you played Minecraft the entirety of class, only skimming through the syllabus for his late work, absence, and attendance policies. He's not sure if you even caught the way the professor mentioned there was a syllabus quiz next class. Though it wasn't his job to tell you, but he still felt kind of bad if you were to fail it. He passes you a note, and you pause your game, glancing at the note. You grin at him, opening your phone and showing him your reminder. You go back to your Minecraft world for the rest of class, information going in one ear and out the other. (Tim found out later that you actually listen, and gaming was only a focus tactic you used.)

At the end of class, you save your world, push your chair in, and sprint for the door.

Tim shared no other classes with you. In fact, the two of you only had one class together for all four years of your college lives. Yet, there was something about you that had stuck with him. He didn't know what it was, but he hadn't felt that giddy over someone since his last relationship, his heart racing in his chest, his head spinning. He pushed everything down in favor of being able to pay attention in class. Though his coding skills were spectacular, his writing skills were less than stellar. He didn't understand how writing just came to you.

Especially not when you fell asleep halfway through your first monthly timed essay and still scored a 97. He could learn a thing or two from you, maybe. Were you doing memory consolidation in the middle of the exam? He has no idea how you did it.

Your name slips past his lips as you pack up after one class.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head at him.

"Are you," he pauses, (a little embarrassed. Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne, CEO of WE, was in need of help. Of course he was a little embarrassed.) "down to tutor me? My grade in this class is less than... acceptable." He grimaces at how his voice goes quiet.

You smile. "Yeah. I'm down. I'll give you my number and schedule and we can arrange a time. Expository writing isn't that bad. It's just the same sentence structure with some BS and then you're done."

"Easy for you to say," He hands you his phone.

"No. It's just like how you have structure when you code." You click your number in, texting yourself and saving his contact before you forget. "There is structure in everything you do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You beam at him.

Tim's next essay comes back with an 81. It's a big improvement from the 64 he scored the first time. You were right, the essays being the same thing over and over again. The structure is as easy as basic coding is to him. He understands you now.

He thanks you by taking you to the diner, paying for your meal.

You kick your legs at the booth, milkshake straw between your lips, lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He raises a brow.

"Tim... what's your last name?" You frown. "It's fine if you don't tell me, but my friends have been asking who I've been tutoring and I realized I have no idea what your last name is."

"It's Drake." He scans your face for something when he tells you.

"Drake..." You pause, letting go of the milkshake straw. "huh. Like the CEO." You go back to your milkshake after the revelation.

"Not surprised?"

"I mean," You grimace at him. "You wear the down-low designer brands your adoptive father does, so not really. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to pry in case you didn't want to tell."

"Down-low designer brands?"

"Bruce Wayne has a specific way of dressing casual." You bite on your straw. "I know this sounds creepy but I've done more research on brands billionaires wear than I'd like to admit."

"Does it have to do with your writing?" Tim thanks the waiter as his order is brought.

"Yeah." You smile sheepishly. "Is that creepy? Sorry."

"No. I've been expecting the unexpected from you for a while now."

You laugh. "Yeah?"

"I have an older brother who writes in his free time and the amount of things he's done for research is crazy."

"Right? Reddit and Quora are my saviors." You mumble. "I obviously can't kill for research, so the internet is my best friend."

"Do you search on incognito?"

"No. I prefer being able to dig up my weird research from my search history." You shrug. "I bet the FBI has me on a watchlist."

"I could check if you'd like."

You feign a look of shock. "Really?"

He smiles at you, and the two of you burst into laughter.

"You going to Connor's Halloween party next week?" You finish the last of your milkshake.

"Of course not." He deadpans. "Must I remind you I hate going out?"

"Awh," You pout. "I wanted someone to match maid dresses with."

"Excuse me?"

"For research."

The smile on your face suggests anything but.

"You can consider it as payment for all the times I'm going to tutor you."

"I've been paying you."

"No." You shake your head. "You pay me each time we have a session. I'm letting you pay me for the rest of the lessons by showing up to the Halloween party in a maid dress with me."

Tim looks at you incredulously.

"Actually, I'll even draft a contract if you don't believe me." You smile.

"And if I turn you down?"

"I'll find one of my friends to do it with."

"Then why ask me?"

"The thrill of the unknown? The endless answers you could have chosen? A grasp on your character better? It could be anything." You smile sweetly at him. "It's fine. You can continue paying me like you normally do."

"Who would you match with if not me?"

"Well, I was thinking Sam or someone else," You shrug. "but Sam doesn't celebrate Halloween. I'd match with the other guy friend, but one of my friends is into him so I don't want to make it seem like I'm making a move on someone I know she likes."

"So you asked me?"

"I don't know, Tim." You shrug. "You tell me. I thought you were a genius."

He leans in to read your face better. "I'd say you asked me because you're interested in me."

"Bingo." You grin wider this time.

"It's been less than two months."

"And? Hasn't stopped people from already hooking up." You shrug. "You can say no."

"See, I'd say yes, but Connor would take a photo and it would end up in our groupchat's blackmail folder." Tim slides his fries to the middle when he catches you staring. "You can have one."

"I thought you were a master hacker?" You pick a fry from the carton.

"Yeah, but friend code."

"Ah." You nod slowly. "It's okay to say no. I won't get offended."

"Maybe next year." Tim shakes his head.

"No worries!"

Tim stalks your Instagram on the day of Halloween, staring at the post where you're matching maid dresses with your entire friend group. In the back of his mind, he wonders, for a brief moment, if it would have just been you and him if he had agreed. The thought disappears just as fast, sighing as he puts his phone down and domino mask on. He had patrol. He could think about his mess of emotions later. Gotham needs him.

Your breath hitches from the spiked punch, your friends long lost in the crowd, your head spinning as you stumble onto the balcony of the apartment, resting your head on the cool of the metal railing, trying to calm the thumping of your head. You hear something rustle in front of you, the sound of someone swinging, and you open an eye to get a look. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of Red Robin.

"Hey—"

"Dude... your costume looks way too realistic." You press your fingers to his armor, pulling him onto the balcony with you, mumbling under your breath as you feel him up through his costume. The smell of alcohol is apparent on your lips, the smell of your perfume flooding his senses — your cheeks are flushed beyond repair, and Tim finds himself frozen in place as you practically straddle him, fingers running to his face. His eyes dart to your cleavage unconsciously, staring back up to meet your eyes when he sees too much. You look sinful like this. His breath catches in his throat as he tries to loosen your grip on him without accidentally throwing you off, and he finally presses a hand of his to your stomach, successfully getting you to stop.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"No worries." He rasps, pushing you back onto your seat gently — heart drumming in his head.

"Ey, Red Robin!" Connor calls from inside the house. "You made it!"

"I'm not here to party. I was checking in on you to see if you were being responsible." He sighs.

You blink at him, doe-eyed, fascinated, drunken stupor all over your face.

"You're real?"

"Yes." He mumbles.

"Sorry for touching you."

"You're forgiven."

You lean back into your seat with an exhale, pulling out your phone as Connor leads Tim further into the party. He speaks to Oracle to let her know where he was, and he exhales when she tells him B says it's fine. He nods at the people who compliment his costume as he passes them, and he grabs himself a cup of punch, pausing when the alcohol stings his tongue. He dumps it in Connor's sink, eyes trailing to where you were sitting, breath catching in his throat at the sight of some sleaze slinging his arm around you. He rushes over to you, fingers smoothing down your neck to your shoulders, warning smile on his face.

"She has company for the night."

The man scrambles as you look up at him, beaming. His breath catches in his throat.

"Careful. I might just take you home."

"Don't you dorm?" He raises a brow in amusement.

"No one said my home." You turn around to reach for his jaw, fingers trailing down, breath fanning his. Tim would let you do this. He really would. He'd kiss you senseless on the balcony at Connor's house, yet he knows better than to do so. You're drunk from the punch. He'd be taking advantage of you no matter how much you want this when sober. So, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, forehead meeting yours, every ounce of his willpower pulled into not just kissing you senseless here. If only you were sober. The things he would do.

"Where is she — babes! Time to go!" Your friend breaks the tension for him, pulling you away from him with a nod, alcohol riding off of her as well. He wonders if your driver is tipsy.

"I wanna go home with Red Robin..." You mumble, and your friend smacks you playfully. He notices one of you is sober, and he supposes that's enough. He heads back inside to find Connor.

Tim notices you miss class the next day. You text him to ask him to record the lecture for you, telling him the Halloween party was lit and you remember almost making out with a guy but your friend cockblocked you. Tim holds back a laugh in class, letting you know he'd email you his notes with the lecture recording. You thank him with an image, going offline immediately after. He clicks on his laptop, noting down whatever you might need. The recording would cover the rest. He sends everything at the end of class, your response instant. It wouldn't matter if you were absent from class. Your grade could take a hit.

He answers his phone when you dial him.

"Hey?"

"Timmers, you got Tylenol?"

"I can buy you some?" He offers. "I don't have class after this."

"Please? Oh, and throw in that one specific brand of bottled tea. I'll send you a photo." You grumble.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Like a dead girl walking."

"Taking that as a no. Want anything else?"

"I'll Venmo you the money. Bring me the receipt."

"You're sick. You can pay me back by actually being in class next lecture."

"Not hard. My head just hurts from the hangover."

"I'm guessing you got home safe?" Tim steps into the convenience store.

"Yeah. Our driver was sober. Thankfully."

Tim grabs the Tylenol and pauses. "I need the tea."

"Which convenience store are you in?"

"Metro."

"Aisle three by the American soda. It's green with white writing. You can read Chinese, right? It's Japanese but it says tea in Chinese."

"How'd you know?" Tim pauses. "Unsweetened green tea? The Japanese one?"

"Yeah. It helps a lot." You sniff. "Found out on google because someone made a compilation of you speaking foreign languages."

"So you assumed?"

"The part where you speak Cantonese, you were reading from a menu."

"Are you stalking me?"

"I'd prefer doing research."

"Stalking."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Tim checks out, tapping his phone to pay. He takes the bag and pauses at the sight of the instant noodles. "You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Nothing. Feel free to get what you need too."

Tim hears you drink something.

"I'll text you my dorm building and number. There's no pin to get in just let them know you're here to see me. I'm pretty close with the RA."

"Networking already, huh?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

You text him your dorm building and number, and he knocks on your door.

You open it with a weak push of your arm.

"Are you actually sick?"

"No." You thank him as he hands you the plastic bag. You pop two pills out, swallowing them with the tea. "I'm extremely hungover. I drank too much punch."

"And you didn't realize?"

"No. I was trying to drink my thoughts away." You sniff. "So? How'd you spend yesterday?"

"Handing out candy at the manor with Bruce." Which was a lie. He spent Halloween using every last drop of self-control to not kiss your drunk self senseless at Connor's place. He can still smell your perfume.

"Sounds boring."

"I do it every year." He shrugs. Also a lie. He spends every Halloween patrolling Gotham because it's the one night of the year where every single criminal decides it's alright to go apeshit.

"mm," You yawn. "I matched maid dresses with my friend group. I posted about it. Do you have insta?"

"No. I keep a low profile."

"So you don't have a private account?" You raise a brow.

"I do, but what makes you think we're close enough for it?" Tim mirrors your raise of brow.

You hold your hand to your mouth, pretending to be offended. "We're not close enough for it?"

"I'm kidding." He mumbles. "What's your handle? I'll follow you."

"You better not turn down my request." You reach for the green tea again, drinking it as you show him your account. He already knows your account. He figured he'd have to ask or else he'd be a hypocrite for calling you his stalker. Well, he's already a hypocrite.

"Ough!" You sit up straighter, reaching for your laptop. "Connor sent me these photos that the photographer caught of me and Red Robin" You swoon.

"You're into him?"

You blink at him. "Did I not tell you I run his stan account?"

"You do wHAT." He freezes. "Are you the girl who gets caught up on the news every other week because you accidentally fall while taking photos of him?"

"Yep." You grin. "He's my favorite Robin."

Tim was extremely conflicted at the discovery. In retrospect, he should have known from the way you seemed to climb all over him and pull him onto the balcony without second thought, but he's still embarrassed at the idea that you had fawned all over him. Yet he shakes his thoughts away as he peers over your shoulder to stare at the photos caught of the two of you — well, of you. You didn't know he was Red Robin.

There's a photo of you straddling him, feeling him up, and Tim's neck snaps to the side.

"Tim? You good? You don't need to look if you're uncomfortable, you know?" You remind.

"No," He swallows. "I wasn't expecting photos like this."

"Isn't the photographer good? I'd pay this guy to take photos of me at parties any day."

"Yeah?" Tim raises a brow as you show him the other two. One of him with his fingers on your collar, the other of his forehead pressed to yours, thumb between the two of you's lips. You explain to him in excitement that you would have kissed him had your friend not pulled you away because you needed to leave. Tim rests his back on your closet, nodding along slowly. He had homework to do. Yet he spent the rest of the afternoon in your room listening to you ramble about Red Robin, conspiracies reminding him of someone.

"So let me get this straight." Tim interrupts. "I'm on a time crunch. I have something for one of my compsci classes due soon and wanted to get the big picture."

"Oh. I'm sorry for—"

"Don't." He holds his hand out. "I stayed. You run the biggest Red Robin stan account on Twitter and you're planning on posting those photos like he's some kpop idol?"

"Yeah?" You tilt your head.

"Are the fans not going to get mad that he's making out with someone at a party?"

"No." You laugh. "His fans are used to him being in relationships. The most they'd do is figure out who that is, which is me, but that's it."

"You won't get death threats?"

"His fans aren't crazy."

"Yeah? You seem pretty mental to me."

You gasp. "Rude." You look to the side, sucking your cheeks in. "But not wrong."

"Yeah. If you denied it, I'd just pull up every single time you'd fallen while trying to get good photos of Red Robin."

You pout. "Shoo. You said you had something due soon."

"Last question."

"Shoot."

"You don't mind that he's never going to date you?"

"Timmers." You laugh. "He's a hero and I'm a fan. It's like asking me if I'm ever going to date a billionaire. It's impossible. Not written in the stars. It's a groundless dream."

"Yeah?" His own heart cracks a little when you mention a billionaire.

"Yeah." You smile. "Now do your work. You have a GPA to take care of."

"Got it."

Tim finds that nearing the end of the semester, you meet with him less and less, tutoring him on Zoom instead, apologizing, explaining that you had a ton of creative work due for your other classes. You had been planning on graduating early, he finds out. It was your freshman year, and you were trying to get your sophomore classes out of the way. He was bothered. It was incredible — the sheer amount of classes you took. It was more impressive that you had time to write your own creative works.

"So?"

"How did you score last time? I'm starting to think you have me tutor you still because you're into me." You joke.

"Ninety. All we have left is the stupid final."

"You're set then." You yawn. "Why still have me tutor you?"

Your mind wanders as you click on one of your assignments. "Oh, how about this, then? I have an interview I need to conduct for my journalism class, and you'd be the perfect candidate. I'm expected to record it in the building and it's due in three days."

"Three days?"

"I bet you have everything out of the way, huh?" You smile at him, batting your lashes. "Hm?"

Tim, does, in fact, have everything out of the way.

"And if I don't?" He likes teasing you.

"Then I'll ask one of my friends. The topic is the discussion of a topic you aren't familiar with. You're good with coding, something I can't do past basic HTML to edit how text looks." You hum. "I'm grappling at every excuse I can to hang out with you, if you can't tell."

"Oh, I definitely can."

"Great." You smile. "How does tomorrow at 8 in the morning sound?"

"So early?" Tim raises a brow.

"I'll bring us coffee. Give me your order."

"Sold."

Tim realizes at 3am that you never gave him a dress code. Should he show up in casual? Business casual? Semi-formal? Formal — no, formal attire seemed like too much. He grimaces as he's in the Batcave, irritation all over his face.

"Something wrong, Timmers?" Dick raises a brow.

"Yeah. What do you wear to an interview?"

"Depends what kind." Bruce answers, pulling the cowl from his head. "Who's the interviewer? Is it official?"

"A friend is interviewing me for a project."

"Final project or just a project?"

"Forgot to ask."

"You can't go wrong with semi-formal. Dress like old money." Dick hums. "Polo shirt and khakis. Throw in a sweater tied around your neck and you should be good to go."

"I agree." Bruce hums.

"Do you need to impress said friend?" Jason raises a brow from behind the two.

"Wh-what does that have to do with the interview?"

Jason smirks at the stutter. "Get Steph to dress you. She'd make you look good and dress for the occasion."

"I think I'll go with Dick's—"

"Half-buttoned dress shirt and dress pants." Steph cuts in, pausing. "No, that'll make you look desperate. Grey sweats, blazer, and a white tee. Dark colored blazer but NOT black."

"Why can't I just wear a polo shirt and just—"

"You want to look good, right? Roll the sleeves up to right before your elbows. Mess up your hair a little too."

Tim sighs. "It's winter."

"Drake. Do you want to look good for your crush?" Damian cuts in.

"She's not a crush-"

"Last time you said that you were still pining after your ex." Steph laughs. "If you really want to look casual just wear what you normally wear but add some perfume."

"She's interviewing me for my major." Tim finally gets to speak.

"Then just dress like you normally do." Dick pats him on the back with a laugh. "Hoodie and sweats. Wear a tee underneath if in case you get hot so you can pull it over your head and she can watch."

"Hey-"

"I agree with that." Steph smiles. "If you're lucky, your shirt will ride up a little and she'll get to see—"

"Got it!" Tim yells, groaning. "My usual clothing it is. I'll bring a blazer in case she does want me to dress semi formal."

"Attaboy." Bruce ruffles his hair as he makes his way up.

Tim groans. He's not going to get enough sleep for this.

You call him in the morning when the coffee shop you frequent isn't open.

"Mm?" Tim furrows his brows, morning voice evident.

"Coffee shop closed. You mind if I just make one at the convenience store for you?"

"Knock yourself out. You're early."

"I need to set up the equipment." You hum.

"What color should I wear?"

"Something not green. I'm in red. See you in an hour."

"See you." Tim mumbles back, ending the call. He sits up, bed hair evident, staring at himself in the mirror. The exhausted part of himself wants to go back to sleep, but the better part of him — the giddy, excited, coming-of-age-has-a-crush-on-someone part of him — has him sit up from sheer willpower. (something he finds he has a lot of when it comes to you) He gets out of bed, pulling for the clothes he prepped the night before, combing his hair for once. He'd like to look nice for the camera, for you, he thinks. It would be a little frustrating to see the stand-in CEO of WE dress so casually. He has some sort of reputation to hold up when he isn't a student. Though he supposes he's being interviewed as a student, so there's not much of a need to dress so well.

But he supposes he wants to impress you.

He arrives five minutes before 8, locking his car and knocking on the door to the room.

"Hey," You smile at him.

"You didn't lock the door." He locks it behind him. "In Gotham during winter?"

"I knew you'd be here early." You adjust the cameras. "Your coffee's on the table."

"Thank you," He takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack. "Can I know what questions you'll be asking me?"

"Next to your coffee." You yawn. "You're dressed nice."

"Is it too little?" He smiles at you apologetically.

"No. Not at all." You smile. "Not when I'm dressed like," You motion at yourself. "This."

"You look like a friend." He points.

"Honored." You laugh. "The cameras are set up. I rented the room until 11. Take your time with the coffee."

"You're asking about me?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "The goal is to gradually have you talk about why you chose your major so we can have a relatively deep conversation. It's an intro to interviewing course, but the professor's ultimate goal was to make sure we make at least one friend."

"Yeah?" Tim puts his coffee down, smile on his lips. "Am I that friend?"

"Yeah," You smile back at him. "You can ask me questions too. It's supposed to be a casual interview. I'll only ask you a question when we run out of things to talk about."

Tim discovers a symphony of information from you. You open your heart to him the same way he can to some extent, smile on his lips when he tells you about his days during high school and his earlier relationships, forgetting that this was an interview for your class and that you would probably have to go through hours of footage in response to this. The plush of the seat is warm underneath him, your voice is a melody to his ears, Tim nodding along as you tell him about the one time you snuck out of the house as a teenager and got your ass beat because you got caught. The smile on your lips is contagious, he finds. He hadn't fallen for someone this hard since his ex.

Tim took you to lunch that day, desperate to get to know more about you, desperate to know you. He would have called it a date if you had let him.

You had your laptop pulled up, sorting through the footage (the three hour long footage) of the two of you's conversation, nodding along and rambling casually, clicking through to cut more personal matters from the interview, only required to give your teacher a clip and the raw file's total length to prove that you two hadn't just staged a conversation. You take a fry from his plate, your sandwich finished on your plate, humming when you finish editing.

"Are you always this fast?"

"Depends on what context." You wink.

"You were pretty fast to upload those new Red Robin photos too." If he noticed the sexual connotation of your words, he didn't mention anything.

"Well, other than lighting, I don't really need to edit anything."

"Speaking of which, do you even pay tuition?"

"Martha Wayne Scholarship." You yawn. "Your dad is looaaaded."

You submit your assignment to Canva, yawning. "That was my last one."

"You finished all those writing assignments?"

"Writing comes to me like hacking does to you." You close your laptop, tucking it into your bag. "Thanks for lunch, by the way."

"Mhm." He smiles. "Glad you liked your sandwich."

"My favorite." You hum. "So? Any updates? New girl? New boy? Relationship? Your dad adopted a new sibling? What's new?"

"Siblings keep teasing me."

"Oh? For what? For me?" You press a hand to your chest, wiggling your brows at him. You burst into laughter when he turns red. "Yeah? Because of me?"

"I asked them what I should wear to an interview, and suddenly they were asking me if I had a girlfriend."

"Yeah? So what did you tell them?"

"Interview from a friend." His eyes meet yours, eerily sincere. "Why?"

(the use of friend leaves a pang in your chest)

"Curious." You shrug. "So? Going anywhere for vacation?"

"Just Christmas at the Wayne Manor. You know, the rich people gala?"

You shudder, laughing. "Good luck."

"I'll need it. God knows who else I have to network with that night."

"Well, my dorm's open if you want it." You shrug. "But I doubt Bruce would let you leave since you are the CEO."

"Stand-in." He corrects.

"CEO nonetheless." You hum. "Should I send you a Christmas present?"

"What would you even send me?"

"It would be a surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tim finds a gift from you under the Christmas tree, presumably placed there by Alfred. He had missed when you dropped it off, knocked out in the warmth of his bed without the pressure of an exam for once, letting himself ignore the cases he promised himself he'd solve. He promised you he'd get one day of proper sleep. Your texts are the only ones that cause his phone to vibrate during break. (He's down horrendously bad for you, Jason had whispered to Dick while Tim had responded to your message, lovesick grin on his face.)

Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It comes as a revelation on Christmas morning, coffee mug warm in his hand as he watches his siblings open their Christmas gifts, laughing at certain ones and holding back his face from a smile breaking past his lips at others. He's third on the list to open his gifts, third son and all, and Tim finishes the last of his coffee, fingers reaching for his presents, all wrapped in a shade of red different from Jason's blood red. He thanks everyone for their gifts, raising a brow in amusement when he pulls out Damian's, a genuine smile breaking on his smile at Bruce's. Finally, he finds himself reaching for the gift you had gotten him, his fingers shaking as he breaks open the wrapping paper, smile on his face at the camera you got him. There's even an SD card and a battery charger part of the box you had prepped him.

"Oooh, Timmers is that from your girlfriend?"

"She's not my—"

The family breaks into teasing remarks as Tim groans, blush fresh on his skin, heart racing in his ears — that's when he realizes, the painful realization, a realization that breaks him into silence — he's in love with you.

Bruce has everyone move on as Steph sits down to open her gifts, and Tim's throat dries at the epiphany. He's in love with you — and that same lovesick smile breaks on his face as he wonders if you got his Christmas present. It was as if the two of you synced with the gift. Maybe he'd catch you taking photos of him with your camera. This time, he should stare back at you, flash you a smile, strike a pose, something, anything to fluster you. He was already looking forward to patrol that night. He picks up his mug, excusing himself quietly to get another cup of coffee, pulling his blanket with him as he clicks on his phone, placing his cup under the machine as he thanks you for the gift.

You respond immediately, video-calling him on accident, flustered state caught on camera, hair still a mess from waking up.

"I'm so sorry—"

Tim laughs. "It's fine. Are you home?"

"No. I slept over at a friend's place since my mom and I don't celebrate Christmas." You smile at him fondly. "I brought the gift you mailed to me, though. I haven't opened it yet."

"Let's say it's for your bird watching."

"You did not." You gasp, looking over your phone. "I'll have my friend record a video when we rip open our presents. Have fun on Christmas, Tim. Love you lots—"

Tim's face turns utterly red at the words, blinking wide-eyed at the now-ended call. You just... wow. He takes his mug of coffee, sitting back at his old seat where his siblings were, in a half-blissed-out state at your words. (He's told later on by your friend that you had sobbed into her chest when you realized you told him you loved him on accident.)

You text him sometime during the afternoon with the video of you opening your present, thanking him for his generous gift. You let him know that you'd send him your new photos with his present first, letting him see how good the quality of his camera could be. He texts you to sit on your dorm roof instead, and you ask if he was planning on kidnapping you. Maybe you'd let him take you for a swing. Instead, he tells you it's a present for your fanpage. You ask him if he's going to call Red Robin himself. He leaves you on read.

Bruce notices the way Tim's eerily giddy for a Christmas patrol, but he doesn't comment on it.

You exhale into the winter air, the cold piercing your lungs as you hold the camera between your gloved fingers, kicking your legs as you sit on the edge of the building, strap hung around your neck. You hum quietly as you watch the snow start, and a shadow looms over your shoulder.

"Hey." Tim smiles at you, Red Robin outfit on.

"Woah. He wasn't lying." You gasp. Your name spills past your lips, rambling about how you were his biggest fan. He stares at you through the whites of his domino mask, smile breaking onto his face.

"I've seen your Twitter."

"Yeah?" You exhale, eyes sparkling. "Honored. I hope you aren't going out of your way to visit me or anything. Gotham needs their vigilantes."

"And if I am?"

"Then you should go." Your cheeks flush from the winter warmth, and he steps close to you, forehead pressed to yours.

"You remember me from Halloween?"

"We have a thing with meeting on holidays, hm?" You laugh gently, eyes crinkling, Tim's expression softening.

"Yeah, we do." He hums, leaning in further. "May I?"

"Yeah." You exhale, lips finally pressed to his under the winter snow, his hands warm on your face as you lean in closer to him, chest pressed to his, lips parted to give him access to your mouth. Your head spins deliciously from the taste of his lips, his perfume reminding you of someone you know all too well, your mind muddled with the fact that you're actually making out with Red Robin, your celebrity crush. You whimper against his lips when he nips at your bottom one, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl. You can't just do that." He heaves, resting his forehead on yours again.

"Wow." You breathe, starstruck, eyes staring up at his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You laugh melodiously, and Tim feels his heart grow full. "Can I get a photo?"

"For you? Anything."

You make a Christmas post on your Twitter, photo of Red Robin with a Santa hat and white beard staying pinned for the Holiday season. (Tim wasn't allowed to live it down from his family, but he had gotten to kiss you stupid, so he was more than willing to take the jabs.)

He invites you to his place for New Year's Eve, invitation tumbling past his lips and nearly getting drowned out by his panicked rambling, cheeks red beyond repair and stutter catching in his throat, only for you to tell him that you'd "love to" and that you were "honored." You asked him if there was a dress code, and he told you it was fine. Even if the Wayne gala was that night, he would just sneak to his room when you arrived. He could finish socializing with the rich in a couple of minutes. Hell, he'd flirt his way out of it like Bruce did if it meant he could see you early. He tells you to arrive in a nice dress anyway, asking for your measurements so he could send you something. (You didn't want to give it to him, but he insisted.)

You pull up to the gala perfectly on time, ignoring the paparazzi asking you who invited you and making a beeline to who you assumed was Alfred and asking him if you could be taken to Tim's room. The gala wasn't somewhere you wanted to be, and Alfred had been more than welcoming, leading you and leaving you in Tim's room, telling you to make yourself comfortable since you were Tim's guest. You spent twenty minutes looking through his photobooks before he stumbled into his room, a little sweaty since he had been running.

"Hey." He smiles at you dorkily, smiling like a nerd in love.

"Wow. You're dressed nice." You mumble, staring him up and down.

"You don't look too bad yourself," He hums, locking his door behind himself. "Did you get to eat anything?"

"I ate before I came and made a beeline for Alfred when I came. Too many cameras."

"Sorry." He exhales. "Looking at my photos?"

"They're nice."

"They're from years ago." He hums. "Before my parents passed."

You mumble something under your breath, eyes meeting his in something akin to sadness.

"It's fine, now." Tim presses his thumb to the space between your brows, your expression relaxing immediately.

"Ah, right." You slip out the SD card from your purse, blinking at him. "You have a card reader?"

"Yeah." Tim sits in his chair, opening his laptop through some series of codes, holding his hand out for your SD card.

You drop it in his palm, his fingers drumming against the table as he opens the files.

"I got photos of Red Robin." You grin. "He was there on my dorm roof. Did you send him?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "Did you like the gift?"

"My Twitter loved it." You smile. You neglect to tell him that you had kissed Red Robin breathless. (Tim doesn't notice the way you get embarrassed, trying to fight off the red on his own cheeks when he remembers the way the two of you had made out on the roof.)

Tim pauses at the photo of him swinging away.

"Why didn't you post this one?"

"I was actually planning on posting it today." You hum. "The ones of him in action."

"You have multiple?"

You click into a folder, enter your password, showing him the photos.

"The camera's great, by the way. Red Robin may not have an ass as impressive as Nightwing, but he still has a nice ass." You laugh, clicking open the photos. Tim chokes on the air at the photos, and he laughs.

"Oh, yeah, Twitter would love this."

You shrug playfully. "What can I say? It pays."

Tim glances at the clock on the wall. Two minutes from midnight.

"How'd you spend the morning?"

"My friend came to pick me up so she could do my makeup." You laugh. "Then she brought me to the mall so we could get me some heels," You kick your legs to show him. "And then another friend, the one with a nice car, drove me here. My other friends insisted they watch me walk off to you. I forgot to tell them your last name after I asked for it, so they were quite surprised when they dropped me off her."

"Maybe I should thank your friends for helping you look so pretty."

"Yeah?" You smile, hopping to sit on his desk.

He stands up, pressing his forehead to yours, tucking your hair behind your ear, nose brushing yours.

"Yeah. What do they like?" Tim hums, your perfume flooding his senses again, his doing the same.

"Ever been told you share a perfume with Red Robin?" You whisper.

"No. You'd be the first."

"What's the brand?"

The brand falls onto silence as you press your lips to his, fireworks signaling the new year going off in the back. Tim's hands dig into your waist, eyes half-lidded, tongue pressing into yours with so much passion your knees might've gone weak had you not been already seated. Your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, pulling lightly when his hand finds itself on the zipper behind you. He pulls away for a moment, begging for your consent, asking if this was okay.

You had told him yes in a heartbeat.

Thus, Tim found himself enveloped with you, senses sent into overdrive, your skin pressed to his, sweat mixing with his, body tangled with his in his sheets — the same sheets he had thought about you so often in, the one where he had thought about you while he spilled into his hand, fingers pressed to your skin, mouth on your skin, sucking, biting, marking, doing whatever you would let him do to you. Your dress was long abandoned by his desk, his own suit leaving a trail toward the bed where he had you in his fingers.

He prayed this wouldn't be a foolish dream.

When he wakes in the morning, pulling you closer to his chest, your lashes fluttering against his skin, his heart warms. He should ask you to date him right now, he thinks. But his heart races in his chest, wondering if you would agree. Maybe the two of you had kissed in the heat of the moment, and you had let him have you because he had asked so nicely. He looks down at you as your eyes are completely open now, embarrassed smile on your face. He misses his chance.

"Good morning." He looks at you like you're his whole world.

"Good morning." You smile back at him like he's the universe.

The two of you fall back into the pace you had established the previous semester, this time without any classes together, only texting every now and then with updates. Tim hates this new life he lives. He misses seeing you during class and watching you play subway surfers on your phone or Bloons TD on your laptop. He opts for texting you during class instead, typing notes as he types responses to your messages. He wonders if you miss him the same way he misses you. He's too afraid to ask, still clinging onto the way your skin had felt on his during New Year's. It doesn't help that your department is halfway across the campus.

The next time he gets to see you, he's Red Robin, and he catches the familiar flash of your camera on the rooftop as he swerves into action. He finishes with the thugs easily, swinging back up to land next to you, your camera pressed to your chest, clicking capture as he raises a brow at you. You blink at him, smile on your lips. You don't look apologetic at all, almost cheekily. It was as if you knew he'd notice you.

"Hey."

"Hey." You beam at him. "Nice fight."

"Thank you. Care to tell me why you're out here during the February cold to get photos of me?"

"Because you're my favorite?" You blink at him, eyes wide.

"That's cute." He hums. "Shall I take you home?"

"Oh, if you could be so kind." You smile. "I had a friend drop me off nearby and I think he left already."

"Yeah?" Tim wraps an arm around your back, pressing you to him snugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. You close your eyes as the winter air hits your face, only for him to whisper into your ear. "Open your eyes."

Gotham looks breathless from wherever the hell Red Robin was in the air. Your breath catches in your throat, staring in awe as Tim swings from building to building, finally landing on the one where you dormed. You let go of him, cheeks warm from the air and the view, turning to look at him.

"Thank you. Thank you a lot." You smile at him, Tim mirroring your smile.

"Can I get a reward?" He had meant it as a joke, only for you to press your lips to his cheek, his eyes widening at the feeling.

"Is that good enough?"

"I was thinking something else, but that works too." He presses his lips to the corner of yours, smile on his face. "Stay safe."

"For you." You wave at him as he swings away from your building. You look through the photos you had gotten of him, going down the flight of stairs to the elevator. You had stuff to post for the rest of the month.

Tim finally bumps into you at the convenience store one fateful afternoon, reaching for your wrist before he could even register that he was scared you'd run off. He blinks at you as you blink back at him, tilting your head to offer him an awkward smile.

"Hey?"

"Hi. I'll pay, um, if you'll let me have a moment of your time."

"Yeah? Yeah." You nod dumbly. "That'd be fine. I don't have class right now."

"Yeah. I'll take your basket." He reaches for it naturally, swiping his card with ease. He hands you your stuff back, and you follow him, popping open your green tea.

"What'd you need me for?"

"Missed you."

"Yeah? I missed you too. It's weird not sharing a class anymore." You press the tea to your lips. "Missed me or the insanely good sex we had on New Year's—"

"You." Tim smiles. "Missed hearing your voice."

"Awh, what a cheeseball." You snicker, staring at the green start on the trees. "Cherry blossom season is approaching."

"Yeah. So are midterms." He shudders. "How's your classes?"

"You know, drowning in work in order to graduate early." You hum. "I'm writing something right now."

"For class?"

"Yeah. For fiction writing. The story has to be related to something you've experienced in college so far and I was wondering—" You inhale sharply through your teeth. "If I could write about us?"

"As your friend or as the guy you slept with on New Years?"

You open and close your mouth. "Both. Yeah. Both."

"May I read it after you finish?"

"I'll share the doc." You smile. "Thank you. I've been meaning to ask you."

"I'm honored that you'd write about me as a college experience."

"Yeah..." You trail off. "Oh, did you see my Twitter update? I got these super clear photos of Red Robin fighting thanks to the camera you gave me. Thank you, again."

"You're welcome." He hums. "Doing anything on Valentines?"

You puff out your cheeks. "Supposed to hang out with friends, but me and my other friend want to ditch so the two idiots would finally get to hang out without us third and fourth wheeling."

"So you're busy?"

"Not if you want to hang out." You tilt your head, capping your green tea.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But you'd have to make it worth ditching for."

"Oh, then leave everything to me." He hums, fingers brushing yours. "I'll pick you up around nine in the morning."

"And what time will you have me back?" You tease, pressing yourself closer to him.

"What time do you want to be back?"

"Whatever time you want." You hum. "Please pick me up in a nice car your dad owns. I want to see the interior of one of them."

"Sure." Tim hums. "Any other requests?"

"How should I dress?"

"Casual." He hums. "Do you want to match?"

"We can color coordinate." You gasp. "What color do you own the most of?"

"Red." He hums.

"Owh! We can match red." You grin.

Tim walks you back to your dorm, staring as you enter the elevator and disappear from view. He thinks a little about where he should bring you, lips pulling up lightly when he remembers something you had mentioned off-handedly in your interview with him. He knew now.

Tim shows up at your door with roses, your friends peering from behind the door as you take the flowers with him with a light flush on your cheek. You're dressed completely casual, red sweatpants matching his red hoodie, grey hoodie matching his sweats. You smile at him sweetly as you take the flowers from him, and your friends pull you aside, staring him down. One of your friends, bless her, tells him to treat you properly. She jabs a finger into his chest, going off about how she didn't care if he was some rich dude — the same rules applied, especially when it was your first relationship. Tim's eyes widen at the fact, your eyes darting to the side, a little embarrassed. Your other friends drag her off of him.

"Why didn't you tell me I'm your first?" He whispers.

You pout. "Didn't want to come off as inexperienced."

"That's not something to be embarrassed about." He hums.

"You would've treated me differently if you knew."

Tim sucks in a breath. "Yeah. I would've."

"Point proven." You hum. "Thank you for the flowers. They're very pretty."

He opens your door for you, waving bye to your friends. You sit there, staring at him as he stares at you.

"Where are we going?"

"Remembered how you joked about being taken on a first date to Costco?"

"No." Your jaw drops.

"I have a membership." He pulls the card from his wallet, and you gasp.

"You spoil me."

"Save that for when you're actually inside."

You fake a swoon, smiling at him sweetly, lips curled upward and brows relaxed. Tim hums, pulling on his own seatbelt, handing you the aux to the car, and you put the flowers onto the backseat. You plug your phone in as he starts driving, and you blink at all the buttons on the car.

"What are these for?"

"One of them's for missiles."

"What." Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding." He laughs. "Most of them are for defense. Bruce's very into cars."

"I can tell." You mumble. "What are we getting at Costco?"

"Your green tea," He stops at the light. "And whatever else intruiges you."

"Can I get a Costco hotdog?"

"Yeah." He laughs. "You want a slice of pizza too?"

"Maybe." You scrunch your nose. "Moreso a hotdog."

"We can get whatever you want." Tim hums.

"Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to woo me." You laugh. (Tim hates the way he notices your eyes crinkle.)

"And if I am? It is Valentines."

"Woah." You mumble. "I didn't consider that."

"Yeah?" For someone so good at reading people, Tim sure struggled with reading you.

"I don't know." You frown. "Are you trying to swoon me? Or are you trying to get into my pants again?"

"Whichever one helps you sleep at night."

You laugh. "Using my own words?"

"You speak better than I do." He hums. "Do you want your hotdog first or later?"

"Later." You unlock your seatbelt, leaving the car. It looks awfully unassuming on the outside. Great for Gotham, you suppose.

"I'll push the cart." Tim holds his hand out for you and you take it, fingers wrapped in his. He lets go once he gets a cart, handing you his membership as you show the worker at the door. "Want a new iPad?"

"You know, I should make you buy Costco for me." You joke, patting his shoulder.

"Two hundred thirty two billion dollars? That's Bruce's money, not mine."

You snicker. "You have it memorized?"

"Stock trading for the company." He hums. "Stock is currently around five hundred dollars per stock."

"How the hell do you have time for schoolwork?"

"Coffee and an insane amount of self-discipline." He hums. "And revenge procrastination."

"At least you have some sort of weakness." You finally catch the drinks aisle, rushing in to find your green tea, Tim following behind you.

"I'll get it." He hums, reaching and pulling the green tea with ease, sliding it to the bottom of the cart. "Want anything else?"

"Can we browse?"

"Yeah."

You wander through the aisles, a comfortable silence washing over the two of you before you decide to speak up.

"Does Alfred need anything?"

"He's probably glad he has the house to himself for once." Tim hums. "Almost all of us are on a date."

You blink in surprise. "Even the youngest?"

"Except Damian." He hums. "Bruce is out too."

"Woah." You mumble. "The house must be quiet."

"Yeah." he hums.

"That did not answer my question." You pout.

"I texted. He sent a list." Tim mumbles, sharing the list. "You don't mind shopping for my family?"

"No." You smile. "I like grocery shopping with someone. It feels warm."

"Yeah? We're in the snacks aisle, so let's start there."

The two of you work your way through Costco, checking off Alfred's list of groceries, double-checking everything over when you finished. Tim grabs a rotisserie chicken for Alfred without it being on the list, and he grabs a tray of croissants, knowing Cass would probably want something sweet to snack on during the day. You text your friends to check if they want anything, and only one of them responds, telling you she's good. You have a feeling the other two are hooking up.

"Anything they want?"

"No." You smile.

"And you?"

"Just the green tea."

Tim raises a brow. "I'll feel bad if I only get stuff for my family while on a date with you."

"The tea is plenty." You beam. "I promise."

You help Tim unload the cart and then reload it, rocking on your feet as he swipes his card, not even checking the price twice, handing you the receipt as he pushes the cart out. The worker swipes the highlighter through the list, and Tim takes a right instead of a left.

"The car's—"

"Hotdog." He hums. "Can you get us two hotdogs? Card's in my wallet."

You take his card and get the hotdogs, tossing them into the cart as you hold the two paper cups.

"What do you want to drink?"

"What are you getting?"

"A little bit of everything."

"Then get me the same thing." He smiles.

You wonder if he's going to hate the flavor on his tongue. Though it's not your problem as you fill the cups, putting them in the holder as Tim pushes the cart back to his car, the two of you loading it into his trunk.

"We'll drop by my place first, and then we can drive to the next place I have planned." He takes the drink, straw in his lips. He blinks at the taste, eyes widening. "Wow. That's a flavor."

"Certainly is." You smile. "Like it?"

"Tastes like something Dick would have." He hums. "I'll push the cart. Get in the car."

You sit in the passenger's seat, opening your hot dog as Tim comes back.

"Ever had one before?" He opens his own, biting down.

"Yeah. My friends and I drop by pretty often." You hum. "Love the hotdogs."

"I should do that." He hums. "Alright. My house."

You chew on your hotdog as he heads toward his place, the music from your phone filling the car.

You wonder for a moment if Tim was actually into you. You have no doubt that you're important to him, but it was a little strange. You had slept with him before. What does that make you two? Friends with benefits? Friends who have slept together? Plain friends? A situationship? You chew on your bottom lip as he drives, mind elsewhere. Also, what were you with Red Robin? You can't call yourself a fan when you've had his tongue stuck down your throat before. There was too much to consider and ask. Maybe you should just ask Tim. (You don't, out of a fear of something. You're not too sure of what.)

When the two of you arrive, You help Tim sort the stuff into bags, carrying them to the front door as he unlocks it with ease, calling for Alfred and Damian to help with the groceries. Damian comes first, taking some of the bags from you, Alfred after him, showing you where the kitchen is.

"Thank you very much for running groceries for me, Master Tim." He nods. "You too, miss."

You smile. "No biggie. We were at Costco and I figured it'd be nice to do the groceries for you."

"It's very kind of you."

"Are you Drake's girlfriend?" Damian's next, eyeing you up and down, a scowl on his face.

"No?"

He frowns harder. "You deserve someone better."

"I really don't think—"

"Demon brat." Tim's voice comes out like a warning. "Don't tell my date to leave me."

"Is she not your girlfriend? I would have expected you to have already—"

"That's enough." Tim warns again, and Damian shuts up this time.

"Shall I prepare food for the two of you?"

"No need." Tim hums. "We have reservations."

"You made reservations? Do I need to change?" You follow after him, waving bye to Alfred and Damian.

"No. It's at the diner. It's Valentine's, which means there's twice as many couples there."

"Ohhh." You follow him into the car, sitting back down as he starts toward the diner again. "Is that all you had planned?"

"Also planned to take you home after this." He pauses. "My home. I was thinking we could use the movie room in the manor, granted none of my brothers get to it first. If that doesn't work, we can use the projector in my room."

"Are we gonna have sex?" You wiggle your brows playfully.

"If you want, I can have you screaming my name loud enough for Metropolis to hear."

You wince, looking to the side, embarrassed. "Holy shit."

"Expect the unexpected."

"I'm going to throw a milkshake at you for that."

"Cry about it."

The two of you get to the diner just in time for the reservation, your regular orders already memorized by the waiter. You're a little embarrassed, but you suppose it's not the worst thing ever. Tim finds the time asking if you enjoyed the day so far instead. You pull out your laptop as you wait for your order, continuing with the assignment due soon.

"Writing?"

"Yeah. Writing." You puff out your cheeks, fingers flying on the keyboard.

"What are you writing?"

You look up from your screen to stare at him. You don't say anything, but Tim gets the idea.

"Need a reference?"

"Actually," You lick your lips, scrolling up through the doc. "I'd like to meet Red Robin again."

"Your date's right here and you're talking about another man?"

"Writing fanfiction for him right now." You deadpan. "Need to know his kinks."

Tim coughs in embarrassment, forgetting how straightforward you could be.

"For a commission?"

"No. Out of curiosity." You pause. "I was curious to know what he would be into."

"Why not base him off of me?"

You raise a brow at Tim, swallowing thickly.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want me writing fanfiction of other men?" You ask him one question, eyes asking another.

"Yeah." He smiles. "Yes to both questions."

You close your laptop when your milkshake and sandwich arrive, and Tim kicks you gently under the table.

"So what was the other question?" He raises a brow.

"I'll tell you in the car," You smile cheekily. Tim knows what the other question is. He just wanted to see if you were bold enough to ask him. The two of you continue with dinner, catching each other up with your friends' lives, smile on both of you's lips as the sun sets and the moon rises, Tim paying as he said he would. You take his hand into yours as the two of you walk to his car, and he opens the door for you, joining you on the other side.

"Before I ask," You lean over slightly, lips brushing his. "Can I have a kiss?"

"That's a question too, but I won't say no." He leans in for his lips to meet yours, hand moving to hold your face, tongue swiping on your bottom lip, darting into your mouth. You moan into the kiss as his other hand squeezes your waist, and you pull away from him suddenly, licking your lips for whatever taste of him was left. You grin at him cheekily, reaching to wipe the lipstick from around his lips, your voice lowering.

"The question I actually wanted to ask was if you were Red Robin." You grin, wiping the lipstick on a napkin leftover from Costco. "And I knew you'd read it off of me."

"How'd you guess?" He tilts his head at you, eyes still on your lips.

"First it was your perfume," You smile. "Then it was the way you kissed me." You pop the vanity mirror down, reaching into your hoodie for your lipstick. "Not to mention the way your forearms feel the same. Both of you have a specific way that you hold me when making out. I think that was the nail in the coffin."

You pucker your lips when you finish with the lipstick, tossing it back into your hoodie, closing the vanity mirror.

"So? Where are we headed now?"

"My place." He mumbles. "Have to have you."

"You could have me in the car."

"As much as I would like that," He exhales. "That would be very uncomfortable for you."

"Can I have you in the costume sometime later on?" You bat your lashes at him. "If you'd let me, of course."

"Yeah. Anything you want." His head thumps as he stops at the light.

There's a long, drawling silence before you speak up. You're scared, but you might as well ask.

"What are we, again?" You lean over slightly to stare at him. Tim notices you haven't put music on.

"If you'd let me," Tim licks his lips, "lovers."

"Then lovers we are."

The second time Tim gets to have you, he's so much gentler, fingers kneading the skin between them, curling them inside of you until you're a whimpering mess, worried that you'd wake someone in his family, his kisses assuring you that all of his brothers were out doing the same thing he was, wining and dining someone they loved, rooms also soundproof. Tim goes back to you after that, soaked fingers and sheets, licking your cum from his fingers, eyes locked with yours the entire time, pressing his lips to yours after he finishes. Your eyes roll back at how lewd he was being, but you suppose it's what the two of you deserve after flirting for so long.

Tim makes sure you're properly pampered in bed, your legs twitching after your third orgasm, begging for him to fuck you, tears in your eyes. How could he say no? Not when you looked so dazzling under him. He seems to understand something as he pushes into you this time, pausing to drink your form in, still as pretty as you had been before. This time, arguably prettier. You were so much prettier when you were crying about how you were his, cunt still oversensitive from your previous orgasms. Your face twists in pleasure, crying about how you were unable to take another release yet relenting as Tim drilled into you. You have no idea how he has the energy, and you're too tired to ask when he finishes.

You grimace as he peels you from the bed, setting you on the tile seat as he starts a shower for the two of you.

"I love you." You mumble. Not on accident or out of habit this time.

"How long?"

You exhale. "Don't remember."

"Approximation."

"Since I fell at your feet at orientation, maybe." You whisper into the mist as he helps you wash up.

"I love you too." Tim mumbles into your skin as he presses a kiss to where he had left hickeys.

"How long?" You repeat his question, staring at him as he stares down at you, moving the shower head to wash the bubbles from your skin.

"Since Christmas." He whispers back.

You smile at him.

"Since I told you I loved you on accident?"

"Yeah." He stops the water, wrapping you in a towel, drying you. You hum in satisfaction as he dries the two of you off, your fingers warm around his wrist when you grow tired.

"Can we sleep? I usually air dry my hair."

"Yeah." He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck, lifting you into his arms as he takes the two of you back to bed.

"What tag would you put on our story?"

"Idiots in love." You smile as you drift off, and Tim presses his lips to your forehead.

His tag would have been requited love.

#tim drake x reader #dc x reader #red robin x reader #☾.nsfw #guys this fic is everythign to me btw I like love this fic #easily top 5 fics I've ever written #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #☾.fics

722 notes · View notes

misstycloud · 11 months

Text

Yandere harpy x reader

TW: bad writing

A/N: sorry I’ve been gone for so long. I’ve been so busy and had no energy at all. But all the exams are over now so I’ll have more time to write now yay! I threw this jumpscare story together for you, sorry if it sucks.

Anyway, let’s welcome bird boy to the club! ;)

————

It was scary how much it resembled a human in some ways, yet you knew it definitely wasn't. From the moment you laid eyes on it, it was clear the creature was male. Which contradicted what you knew about it, for it wasn't the first time you had seen such a being. They were featured in a lot of myths, records of their appearance and power.

Harpy, that's what it was. At least, that's what you think. It was the closest you could come up with that resembled the bird-man you met. The upper body and head was human. He, the harpy, had a thick mane of tangled, dark hair. Due to all the exercises he must go through on a daily basis, his chest was well muscled and firm. If it were anyone else, you'd love to take a good look, but that was not the case.

His humanity ended there. On his back, sat a pair of large, strong wings. They too, were dark in colour. Legs did he not have either, not human ones at least. The bird feet had sharp talons that made you anxious whenever you looked at them, even though you knew he'd probably not use them against you.

And thank god you didn't have to see his private parts, that was thanks to the ruffled feathers covering the area. It would be a lot harder to handle him if he walked around with his bird dick hanging out.

This left the confusion, if he really was a harpy, then why did he appear so different. One, he was a male, which none of the harpies in the myths were, there they were all female. Also, he seemed more human like than them, physically that is. In the Greek stories, harpies are depicted as birds with the heads of women.

Crouching down and leaning against the cave wall, you try to avoid glancing at the approaching form. A coo left him, directed at you. You ignored it, there was no way you'd willingly indulge in its desire. When he received no reaction from you, he frowned, nudging you with his head.

When he had returned from his outing and noticed you weren't in the nest he'd created, his first thought was that you had fallen off the cliff connected to his cave in the tall mountain where he'd settled down. He was horrified at the image of you inching closer the the ledge, standing there and glancing down until suddenly the ground under you gave away and crumbled.

He shuddered. You would never have any reason to be scared as long as he is near, for he will do whatever it takes to protect you, his mate. His sweet, innocent mate. The male harpy had never seen someone like you before, but you were very similar to him. Except the wings and instead having those weird naked legs and arms, of course. How unpractical it was, having no wings.

There's no way you could fly like that! Maybe you were defected from birth? He felt sorry for you, you must have led a very hard life. Not being able to hunt for yourself or protect from predetors that wished ill intent upon you. Oh, dear. In the harpy world, should one of the chicks be weaker, it was inevitable the others wouldn't abandon them.

Not even those males you were with when he found you, showed any indication of protecting you. Unworthy, they were. They didn't deserve company from a female as lovely as you. He doesn't care about your defects,which is much more than he could say for the other males.

They were also strange looking with the same differences from him like you, but it didn't mean they should be allowed to slack of their responsibilities. He was glad he got rid of them. Now you could live with someone who actually knew how to take care of their partner.

"Stop it.." you whispered in defiance, wishing he would just let you be. Of course that would not happen.

The creature kept trying to usher you into the giant nest made from twigs. He always seemed the happiest when you were in it, you supposed it was some kind of instinct engraved in his bird-brain. You weren't dumb, you understood the signals and behaviours he was exhibiting.

The fond touches, protectiveness, trying to feed you, and the special dance he'd preform in front of you. You could see how he felt when you refused to move along with him. But why should you care about his feelings when he obviously had no regards for yours, if he did he would not have murdered your friends in cold blood.

You shrieked in surprise, the harpy lifted you up and was walking towards the bed made of natural elements. Gently, he set you down in it and you watched as he went and grabbed the dead carcass of a rabbit. It wasn’t there previously which meant he must have caught it recently, when he was out.

You frowned and pushed it away when he offered it to you. There was no chance you’d eat it, it was raw and you’d rather not catch anything. Then there was also a part of your pride you wished to protect, if you ate it meant giving in. Until now you had managed to avoid consuming anything he gave you. Although, you did eat when you absolutely had too, and in those cases it was fruits and nuts you still had in your backpack. But they were beginning to run out. You were grateful that you were able to keep your bag, when he first took you, what if he had thrown it out?

The male cawed at your defiance and entered the nest as well, placing himself behind you and pulling you into his lap. Protectively, he formed his wings around you, in the process making it slightly darker and harder to see. It was something he loved doing. Another one of his instincts you supposed. It made him feel like a worthy mate, someone who can protect you and provide. He ruffled his feathers in pleasure at the thought.

You winced as he dug into the flesh of the deceased animal, ripped out a bloody chunk and tried to make you eat it. “No, I don’t want that.” You said in a firm tone.

The harpy made multiple attempts, all failing of course. In the end, he leaned down, looking at you with a sad face while shaking you lightly, but you refused. He stared thoughtfully at the meat chunk for a while before gobbling it up himself.

Good, you thought and went on to ignore the male currently holding you previously. At least he won’t pester me about it anymore. However, you were deeply wrong about that.

It wasn’t long until weird sounds began erupting from him, you glanced back at him with suspicion. He was gagging and it hit you, he was going to throw up! You tried to pry his arms off you and escape to oncoming accident, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let go of me! I’m not letting you puke all over me, you stupid bird!” You nearly wanted to throw up yourself at the thought.

You quickly looked away when he leaned over his hand and coughed up a slimy red substance into it. The meat he consumed earlier had been turned to a big mucky goo. It was the most disgusting thing you’d ever seen. But what almost made you faint was when he pushed it towards you.

“No, no, no, no!” You exclaimed in protest.

The male’s brows furrowed at your action and demonstrated an eating gesture with the chewed down flesh.

“Yes, I know you want me to have it but I must decline.” You simply wanted nothing to do with it, sadly he did not appear to understand that.

Having read bird relating books before, you also recognised this behaviour. It was called regurgitation and was when parents feed their chicks by partially digesting food from their own stomachs and then transfer it to their chicks.

The harpy male could not comprehend the reason why you did not eat his catch of the day. He could hear the sounds emitting from your stomach so you were obviously hungry, so why? In the beginning he thought that maybe you didn’t know how to eat it, so he decided to help you and rip off a piece. When you still didn’t do anything, he chose to help you further through first digesting the food in his stomach and then give it to you. Unfortunately you did not seem too happy about that, going as far as to reject his hold and try to flee to another part of the cave.

The whole thing made him incredibly pessimistic. He only wished to take care of you! The male had never had a mate before since harpies mate for life, and he didn’t know it would be so difficult to have one. He didn’t regret you or anything, but he couldn’t deny you were a little harder to care for. It wasn’t your fault, of course. The ones he blamed were your parents, they must have been horrible to you because you didn’t look like a normal harpy.

His blood boiled at the thought. However, that wouldn’t matter anymore, because he won’t let you be alone now that he is here.

When nightfall came, you were forcefully wrapped in his embrace again like he has done ever since he brought you to his home. You two were laying down in the nest, your back to his chest, one of his wings under you to create a more comfortable bedding and one wing over you for a blanket. One of the harpy’s feet was gripping your calf in a secure hold, hindering you from sneaking off. Although, his arms around your waist were a pretty good chackle too. You hated to admit it, but it was actually quite nice.

His feathers were softer on the inside of his wings and very warm. Because of the height you were at, there would sometimes be strong winds which caused you to freeze. Your saviour would then be your kidnapper. He would appear and cover you with his feathers to keeep you heated. You could see how much he enjoyed it when it happened. Not very surprising, really, since it was the only time you’d allow him close.

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smile off his face.

449 notes · View notes

joelslegalwhre · 1 year

Text

My Riduur

I put translation for the Mando‘a words at the end, so you don‘t get confused but I also have the link to the dictionary right here

Took me long enough to write this 😮‍💨 Thank god my exam is over (and I stressed for nothing, it was actually really easy), so here you go with my first ever din fic, I hope you like it x

pairing // Din Djarin x fem!reader

word count // 1.6k

summary // Mando didn't like it at all that some boy thought he could get close to his wife. He couldn't show with actions that you were his, the helmet prevented that, but he had his own way to show it.

warnings // jealous Din (let‘s still call him Din okay, thanks), pda, established relationship, lovesick puppy energy, protective!din, allusions to smut, Din and reader speaking Mando’a, me having absolutely no clue about Mando‘a grammar, taking the helmet off if you’re married is okay here, okay? Thanks (did I miss something?)

Masterlist// Mando‘a dictionary I used // my kofi 🩷

It felt strange to be sitting here, in a bar on Mos Eisley, surrounded by all kinds of people, droids, and even a few bounty hunters.

It wasn't the feeling of sitting in a cantina that was weird. No, it was more the feeling of not having to accept a job. You were not here to look for one. In the last months you had almost had no break, and now you could finally lean back a little. The thought, of picking out a nice place with Mando for the three of you for the next few days, pleased you.

But before you did that, you just had to have the ship repaired a bit, after it had taken quite some damage.

Mando was still at Peli Motto's place, busy showing her the ship and checking the price for the repair. You had been looking around the bar ever since he left, hoping he'd be back soon. The jobs of the last weeks had been unique, the wages you had collected for them were easily enough to sit back and relax for a few days, even after getting the razor crest repaired.

You were sitting at a free spot at the bar of the cantina and watched the people and other beings talking to each other. Some argued, some laughed with each other.

You wondered how long it would take for Mando to-

"Hey there, gorgeous." someone sat down next to you, interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at the stranger for a moment, eyeing him. He had to be your age, a few strands of his dark hair fell into his face, and his eyes were not only gleaming with a deep blue, but with an extreme amount of confidence. "I didn't expect to see an angel today." he smirked in a way that almost made you laugh. He didn't lack any confidence, that was for sure.

You drew your brows together, and tilted your head slightly as you looked at him.

"Say, does that work on any woman?"

At his next sentence, you were sure he definitely had a drink too much or just a little too much self-confidence to flirt so shamelessly.

"You're not any woman." he winked.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded with an amused smile. "Oh, is that so?" you chuckled lightly.

"You're here with someone?" he asked, leaning closer. You immediately brought some more space between the two of you again, "I am, actually."

"Well, then where are they?" he asked with a grin that told you he didn't believe you. "Right here." you could hear Mando's deep, modulated voice. Your heart made a little jump when you turned your head and saw him walking straight towards you.

If looks could kill, this wannabe bounty hunter would be six feet underground by now. Mando's jaw had clenched when he saw the stranger talk to you. His jealousy stewing at the mere thought of another man looking at you this way. He’d been ready to stomp up to him and place a good, hard punch right at this fool's flirtatious face.

"Me'bana?" Mando asked, looking at you. His hand naturally found its place on your waist.

"Nothing," you leaned a little closer to him, "Kaysh mirsh solus."

Mando's light, breathy laugh made you almost turn into a puddle. 'He's an idiot.' you'd told him in Mando's native tongue, so the stranger in front of you wouldn't understand.

You had learned it when you started to accompany Mando. He was confused at first, to say at least, as to why you'd wanted to actually learn the language. But you wanted to get to know Mando, that included his native tongue. And besides, it was fun, sitting in the razor crest next to him, Grogu on your lap, learning to speak and read the extraordinary language of your Mandalorian.

"Hey, just so you know," said one started again, "Unalike that tin can there, I can show my face whenever, my lips too." he smirked. His obvious confusion about the two of you speaking in a language he'd never heard but knew must've been Mando'a.

You politely declined his request, slowly getting annoyed. "Thank you very much, but I actually really like the tin can right here."

Mando wanted to kiss you so bad, show you off as his, but he couldn't. That's just how it was, he couldn't take off his helmet. He was proud of his religion, it was part of him. You'd probably wouldn't even let him take it off, even if he tried. That was one of the many reasons he loved you so deeply. You respected his religion, tried to understand and learn about it.

And he could always take it off when the two of you were back in the privacy of the razor crest. He loved the curious look on your face every time he did, as if it was the first time you've seen his face.

But the truth was, that you were enamored with his features, the patchy beard paired with the mustache, his brown eyes and the brown curls… You could just never get enough of him.

Even before you two were married, you always loved to play with the ends of his fluffy hair, whenever it was getting longer once again. It was never much, but enough.

He had other ways to make sure everyone, especially the fool in front of you, knew you belonged to him.

"We need to look for our child." he was well aware that people believed he meant a human child when he referred to Grogu as "child" or "kid".

The look on the boy's face made a smug smile appear on Din's face, carefully hidden by the beskar helmet. He was so satisfied with himself, you could practically feel it spill over, and you didn't even need to see his face for it. You just chuckled quietly.

"Next time," Mando said, "watch who you talk to. My wife is off limits, understand?" his voice cold, almost threatening.

The eyes of the stranger widened, hearing the title.

You took Mando's gloved hand from where it was still firmly placed on your waist, and intertwined your fingers with his.

"C'mon, let's go," you smiled up at your riduur. You turned back around to address the guy, trying to sound nice, "It was nice meeting you."

With that, you left him sitting there, Mando‘s grip on your hand tightening in a protective manner, as you left the cantina.

When you were back at the ship, you could see Grogu fast asleep in his pod, "He's the most adorable thing I've ever seen." you say to Mando, looking at the little being with a look of pure love. Mando‘s heart warmed at the sight of you and Grogu. His little odd family.

"Even more than you getting all jealous of that guy back in the cantina." you grinned at him teasingly.

Mando stepped closer to you, his hands on your hips once again. You slung your arms around his neck.

"I wasn‘t-" but he interrupted himself, he was jealous, so much so that he would've loved to take his blaster out of the holster, even if it was just for show. "I was protecting my aliit." Family. You could barely get your fastening heartbeat under control, no matter how many times he'd say it. "I'm all yours, Din."

"Good." he said, and lowered his head. You could feel the cold beskar of his helmet touch your forehead. A Mandalorian kiss. You loved when he showed you his love that way. You closed your eyes, just soaking up the moment. You couldn‘t see it, but Mando had also closed his eyes, his hands still on your waist, he tried to memorize every little detail about this, about you.

After some time, spent taking the other in, after savoring the intimacy, you could hear a content sigh voice through his modulator.

"I'll look after you, always." His hand wandered to your cheek and cupped it gently. “And trust me,” he huffed, "I won't let anyone flirt with my wife like that, cyar'ika."

You grinned up at him. You couldn't wait to be all alone with him, leaving Grogu in the cockpit to sleep, and kiss him. Oh, how badly you just wanted to give his lips a little peck. You settled for wrapping your arms tightly around his armored middle, pressing yourself against his chest.

Mando's arms around your shoulders, he leaned his helmet against your hair. Even if all you could feel was his armor, it was still him. Your Mandalorian. Your husband. "I love you, mesh'la." the modulator had barely picked it up. He'd whispered it into your hair, like he couldn't believe that you were his. That he had the privilege to be the one to hold you… to love you. And to be loved by you.

"You know," you started smiling at him innocently, „since the baby's asleep, I thought you could show me how much. I mean, just so I know-"

"Haav." he interrupted you, his voice low, "Now." This was no plead, no, a demand. You chuckled and started walking to the makeshift bed you shared with him.

Behind you, you could hear him taking off his helmet, and you could barely hold in your excitement to finally see his face again. You had really missed it, although you've just seen him this morning before getting up. His armor followed next, a second later you could feel his arms wrap themselves around you. "Too many clothes." he whispered into your ear, his voice clear without the modulator. It gave you goosebumps all over your body, "Take them off then.".

Mando‘a translations:

ner = my, mine

riduur = partner, spouse, husband, wife

Me‘bana? = What‘s happening? What happened?

Kaysh mirsh solus = He‘s an idiot (lit. His brain cell is lonely)

cyar‘ika = darling, sweetheart

mesh‘la = beautiful

aliit = clan name, identity, family

haav = bed

🩶taglist: @alexxavicry @kittenlittle24 @hereforfics124 @Snow30285 @cl16version

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian reader insert #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian #grogu my beloved #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #jealousy #pedro pascal #fluff #em's masterlist

503 notes · View notes

robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

Note

oh oh oh i have an idea, imagine roommate!robin coming home and catching reader masturbating and moaning her name , could it pleeeaasssee end in smut 🫣

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐑.𝐁.

roommate!robin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2444

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), masturbation, getting caught, fingering, kind of fluffy-ish in the end, that wasn't even intentional but i hope you don't mind lmao, not proofread

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you so much for all the requests!!! i can't wait to write them! anyway, i should be studying right now because i have plenty of exams coming up but i guess that can wait- also this is kind of a modern au because my silly brain added wireless headphones- anyway new au unlocked??? roommate robin...?

ever since you've moved in with your new roommate, she's been all you could think about.

things could have been easy; you could've gone to college, focus on your courses, and graduated top of the class just like you always imagined. that's what you've worked so hard for.

but then you met your new roommate and all those plans had been thrown out of the window, replaced by the sweet image of her.

of robin buckley.

she is as old as you are, but therefore much taller.

her height immediately had you thinking about what it might be like to kiss her. if she would lean down or if you'd have to get on the tip of your toes to do so.

if her strong arms would hold you and, if so, what that might be like.

a hundred different thoughts all at once, just from the first sight of her.

it obviously doesn't get better the more you get to know her.

she's the kind of roommate who puts effort into really knowing you, that much you can tell.

she waits for you to finish breakfast, helps you with the cooking, and plans movie nights for the two of you.

you appreciate that she is as caring but, god, that woman is driving you crazy.

the way her arm finds its way around your shoulder while you're sitting on the couch, her body, and the way it looks when she's cleaning up the apartment in nothing but a pair of shorts and a sports bra...

when she's around it's almost like you're a whole new version of yourself, almost like a teenager who is falling in love all over again.

except that that can't be, right?

but even when she isn't, her presence somehow has a hold on you and it lingers long after she has left your side.

it gets even worse when finals are right around the corner. a time when you have to focus and really can not afford to get distracted.

but it's not like your emotions seem to care much about that; even when you're seated behind your desk with a massive pile of notes spread out before you, your mind keeps wandering.

you can't help yourself but imagine her behind you, with both hands on your shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly.

you exhale shakily at that image your mind is creating.

it's almost like you can actually hear her voice, whispering into your ear:

"oh you've worked so hard already, haven't you? you're all tensed...here let me help..."

you groan and slam your palm onto the tabletop frustrated, an attempt to get the imaginary robin away from you.

"shit, shit, shit"

you press the heel of your hands over your eyes and shake your head energetically.

what's the point of this anyway? the imaginary robin has been right about one thing: your whole body is tensed and your mind is exhausted from taking in all the information.

circumstances under which studying is impossible.

and besides, a wicked idea has crept its way into your mind that might help you with stress relief.

you let your gaze wander over the notes one last time before you shake your head and get up, peeling off clothing pieces as you walk toward the bed.

when you drop yourself onto the covers, you're in nothing but your underwear.

you don't even bother to lock the door. robin has gone on a run and you know she won't be back so soon, giving you the perfect opportunity.

your eyes flutter shut when you let your fingertips run down your body, over the curve of your breasts, all the way down to your hipbone.

you exhale loudly, feeling your muscles relax against your touch.

when your hand reaches the hemline of your panties, you take one look back at your chair, thinking back to robin.

what would have happened if that little scenario had been real, you wonder.

would she help you relax? would she kiss down your spine the way you want her to, her lips soft against your skin?

would she spread her thighs apart with her palms before bringing her lips to where you need her the most?

it's almost like you can feel her hands on you, fingers trailing down your hips until all the way to your pussy.

a whimper falls from your lips when your hand cups you through your panties, a wet spot already leaking through the thin fabric.

you push yourself further into the bed, with one hand still between your thighs while the other is massaging your breasts softly.

even though you could probably tease yourself for hours, you know this is not the time -considering all the work that's left to do.

you bring your fingers down to your entrance and your eyes immediately roll back when you feel them starting to penetrate you.

⋆

robin is still wearing her headphones, music blasting into her ears when she enters the apartment.

it has started raining outside and -to avoid a cold- she has chosen to return back to your shared apartment.

she knows her roommate is studying, so she closes the door as quietly as possible.

she puts away the keys and kicks her shoes off before walking into the living room.

while she walks, she pushes the headphones off her ears.

but when her feet carry her further into the apartment and past the hallway that leads to both of your rooms, she is caught completely off guard.

the noise that just came from your door most definitely doesn't sound like studying.

she stops in her tracks and turns her head slowly as if to make sure that she did not just imagine that.

she hasn't.

a breathy moan echoes through the apartment. the apartment, from which you seem to think that it's empty, robin concludes.

she inhales slowly, her eyes widened at the noise.

robin has always wondered what you might sound like.

she knows that this is so wrong. that she should do something -anything- to let you know that you're no longer alone.

maybe close the door with more force again or clear her throat.

but she doesn't. she wants to, she really does, but she physically can not turn away.

she walks towards your door slowly, somehow hungry to hear more.

hearing your pretty moan has sent a wave of heat right to her center and robin is dying to know where this might go.

your door isn't fully closed, leaving a small gap that allows her not just to listen but also to see what is going on behind it.

and what she sees takes her breath away.

⋆

you're spread out on your bed. you have chosen to ditch your panties as well, giving yourself even better access to your throbbing cunt.

your head is thrown back and pleasure rushes through your veins with every curl of your fingers.

with both eyes still closed, you can't help yourself but imagine robin's pretty face lingering above yours.

the moans leave your lips almost automatically at this point and you don't even bother to try to hold them back.

the squelching sounds from your center echo through the room and you can quite literally feel just how wet you are -how wet the thought of robin manages to get you.

"oh yes-" you exhale. "fuck yes- robin"

her name feels so good on your lips. almost like you can taste the shape of each letter on your tongue.

you can feel your orgasm approaching now, the hot coil tightening more and more with every stroke of your hand.

you roll your hips against yourself, chasing the height in desperate need for your release.

but just when you think it's about to wash over you, you hear the noise of a creaking door and it vanishes into nothingness.

your eyes fly open, only to find that your door has been pushed open.

and behind it stands robin herself, her eyes wide in shock, but also something entirely different.

instinctively, you close your legs and remove your hand from your panties. it is almost painful, this close to your orgasm.

"oh- god" you choke out. "robin i- fuck"

she must have heard. there is no way that she didn't.

"y/n" robin whispers. "holy shit"

it takes a second for you to understand but when it hits you, you're just as surprised as you are turned on; that is most definitely arousal in her voice.

you bite your lower lip and she watches you for a second of complete silence.

when she finally speaks, you are delighted by her words.

"look you can tell me if I'm mistaken and i swear I'll leave but-"

she crosses her arms ad leans against the doorframe, a gesture that has you clenching around nothing.

"was that my name you were calling just now pretty girl?"

your jaw drops at her bluntness but your head is already nodding before your mind can even catch up on what is happening.

"want me to join you?"

"please"

you don't even have time to fully register it; one second she's leaning against the doorframe and the next she's crawling towards your very much exposed body.

you sit up when she reaches you, gladly welcoming her soft hands on your neck.

"can i kiss you?" robin whispers. the rasp in her voice is even more prominent when she gets like this.

you nod and add a little "yes", and then her lips meet yours.

this is everything you've ever dreamed of in those months of liking her from afar.

but now, with her lips on yours and her hands on you, it is better than in any of your little secret fantasies.

you are far too gone to care when you part your lips, practically begging for her tongue.

robin gets the hint and the kiss grows more passionate as her tongue begins roaming your mouth.

the sinful moan that erupts from your throat is music to her ears and she presses against you suggestively, signalizing for you to lay back again.

your eyes go a little wider but you as you're told.

"t-touch me please"

robin just chuckles in response. "oh don't you worry about that"

her lips meet the skin right below your ear before they wander lower at a fast pace, leaving kisses and light bites wherever they go.

"but i need to see you first" she breathes. "that okay?"

you don't answer. instead, you reach out yourself and unclasp your bra, only to throw it across the room.

robin just stares, her lips parted and her eyes full of lust.

"like what you see?" you manage, the heat between your legs growing even further at the way she's gaping at you.

her head nods slowly and she leans in, kissing the valley between your breasts.

"fuck robin" you cry when her lips wrap around your nipple and suck.

the sensation is nothing compared to what your own fingers can do and you pray that this won't be the only time she'll do this for you.

your fingers curl in her hair and you push her closer to your chest.

"f-fuck me please"

you can feel her stupid little smirk against your skin and roll your eyes in mock annoyance.

"are you sure?" she whispers gently and looks up at you, her chin resting on your breasts.

you lick your lips and nod at her. "i- i want this robin. please-"

"okay, okay. don't worry. i promise I'll make you feel really good okay?"

and you fucking whimper without her even touching you.

that is about to change though, her fingers slowly running down your body all while she never breaks the eye contact.

your lips part and you let out a soft "oh" when her digits reach your needy cunt.

robin's eyes flicker when she feels your wetness against her skin.

"all that for me?"

you rock your hips upwards and nod. the strength to keep your eyes open as left you and all you care about is for robin to finally, finally fuck you.

in any other case, she might have teased some more, to listen to your desperate begging. but now, with your arousal dripping down her wrist robin can't stop herself.

"god, fuck, y/n you're so wet" she moans, your whole body tensing up at the sweet way her voice sounds when she's moaning like that.

finally, she slips a single finger into you, meeting no resistance at all.

you immediately start fucking yourself on her long, delicate fingers, but a hand on your hip steadies you.

"shhh" robin mumbles. "don't worry babe, let me take care of you okay?"

you are already painfully aware that you won't last long like this, but when she thrusts into you for the first time, adding a second finger as she does so, you nearly lose it.

"fuck" you cry out. "oh god, fuck, yes-"

robin chuckles against your skin, her breath hot on you, before pumping into you at a steady but rather slow pace.

this won't do it yet.

she curls her fingers and your legs shake violently. that's much more like it already.

"you're so fucking pretty like this" robin mumbles. "i imagined how you might look like, but god, this is so much better"

you pull her closer, wanting to feel her on you when she makes you cum.

all you can do is mumble a little "hmh" in return.

"and you wanted this too, didn't you?" her fingers pick up their pace. "you wanted to get fucked by me huh? that's why you were calling my name out like that...fuck, y/n...you should've just asked"

you spread your legs a little wider when robin begins rubbing tight circles around your clit.

you can feel your walls flutter around her, sucking her deeper into you.

"robin- gonna cum- please"

"it's okay" she whispers gently. "cum for me baby"

your toes curl and your back arches into her. all you can really control is the way your fist tightens in her hair and pulls her impossibly closer to you.

that tingly feeling that's been building up for way too long explodes and takes over you entirely.

you clench your thighs around her hand while she fucks you through your orgasm.

"robin, robin, robin..." the name keeps falling from your lips softly.

"I'm here...I've got you"

she gently pulls her fingers out of you when you have come down from your thighs and crawls up your body again.

your lips meet hers in a searing kiss.

"i really should have asked" you mumble, voice still shaky. "i really like you robin"

she smiles. "i really like you too y/n"

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley smut #robin buckley imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader

644 notes · View notes

dinogoofymutated · 4 days

Note

Okay so like,,,,I usually never make requests (I’m a lurker fr fr) but your writing Is god tier, so I gotta ask:

Could you do a fic for Hank/Beast? He’s my personal fave but I never see any content for him ever, like the fic scene for this man is a ghost town. he’s underrated as hell. My man is ripped, highly intelligent and respectful of the arts! Yet he doesn’t get any attention.

I would love to see some general headcanons (SFW & NSFW) if you’re up to it. no problem if you don’t write for him or something, I just thought i would ask.

Thanks!

SFW!Beast/GN!Reader

To be honest, I actually wasn't really sure about writing for Hank at first because I've never really had a connection to the character, but he grew on me!! Plus, I'm here to serve lolol we've been starved of fics as a Fandom for basically forever and it would be a disservice not to fill the Hank void out there! Hope it's okay that I only wrote Sfw headcannons, I have a separate req for NSFW for him so I decided to split it into two to save my sanity lol. Finals are gonna be hell for me.

-ps- Should I be writing right now? no. Am I doing it anyway? Yurp. Also, I'm basing his history off of the fandom wiki, so I'm sorry if anything is off.

Tws: none that I can think of atm. As always, reader written while picturing fem but no pronouns mentioned.

Hank, despite what some would think, was most definitely a heartthrob, particularly in his college days!! I mean, a man who's confident, smart, respectful, and also an athlete? Who wouldn't swoon? He was 110% the guy that everyone wanted to take home to their parents.

And He's such a sweet, attentive lover too!! Acts of service almost definitely is a love language for him. He cooks for you, fixes the broken things that you didn't even realize were broken, even organizes your notes before a difficult exam.

He loves to surprise you with flowers, even if it isn't any special occasion, and if you ask, he'll help you preserve them as well!

He loves to kiss your forehead, temples, and hands. On top of that, he's very touchy. The two of you were most definitely seen as the parents of any friend group.

Things changed a little after he took the serum that mutated him further. His confidence had taken a blow, and he just didn't quite know how to approach you anymore.

It took a hot minute to reassure him that you didn't really care if he was blue, or furry, or beastly, he was still Hank Mccoy, wasn't he? He was the man you were in love with, and you certainly weren't going to stop now. Besides, you still thought he was handsome. With the kinds of books he's seen you read, you're a bit surprised that he didn't think you would find him attractive.

Things gradually got back to normal, but for a while, he didn't kiss you as often as he used to. Well, he didn't kiss you period. Even though he knew the incredible extent to which you loved him, the shape of his mouth had changed. Hell, he had fangs that he would rather die than mark you with.

You practically had to tie him down into a contract to get him to kiss you again. He was always one to experiment, why not treat this the same? If you kiss, and it goes well, you do it again. If it goes well a second time and a third, you have a pretty reliable test. Validity shouldn't matter when he knew that you loved him to bits already.

He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again, and yet he still hesitated. It wasn't until you had grabbed him by the collar to drag him into a kiss that he actually relaxed, and what do you know, it was a pretty reliable test after all. A predictive one too, with how often you continued to kiss him afterwards.

Domestic was the best way to describe your relationship with Hank.

You yawned as you made your way down to the lab, still in your pajamas and slippers. Just a few hours previously, after a shower and self-care routine, you had settled into bed with an eyebrow-raising book as you waited for your husband to come to bed. This was a normal routine for the two of you, you immersing yourself into a book to stay awake until Hank entered, kissed your temple sweetly, and began his own nightly routine. It was a set of events you were used to.

Today, however, you felt like you had done a lot more reading than usual. When you finally pulled yourself out of your book and checked the time, the clock by your bed read 11 pm. A rather late time for Hank to be out, but you already knew where he would be. The lower levels of the mansion were extra cold at night, and you find yourself rubbing some warmth into your arms as you approach the lab.

The doors open with a swish, the light of the lab having all been darkened exempt for the lamp on Hank’s desk. He’s so immersed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize when you come in. You walk up behind his chair, running your hands through his hair softly when you reach him.

Hank isn’t surprised, sighing at the pleasant sensation as he tips his head back to encourage you. You giggle a little, leaning down to press a kiss to his head as you begin to massage his scalp.

“It’s late.” You say gently. Hank hums in response, eyes closed as he appreciates your touch.

“I’m sorry, my love. Seems I was a little entranced.” He says. You huff at him playfully.

“You say entranced, I say you’re overworking yourself. You’ve been working on this project all week. Don’t let it cut into your rest time.” Your scolding always sounded too nice, but he knows you mean it. Hank sighs again, this time sounding a little more tired, but he doesn't argue. He rolls around to face you, pulling you into a tired hug from his chair.

“Perhaps it is time I go to bed. What time is it, my dear?”

“Eleven.” Hank lets out a quiet chuckle at your quick reply, finally standing up. He doesn’t let go of you however, choosing to rest his head on your shoulder as he sways the two of you back and forth.

“You’re most certainly right, it is late. Much too late for a man to leave his lovely spouse waiting. Oh, whatever shall I do to make it up to you?.” His words come out as a purr, and you let out a curt laugh at him. You pull away a little, taking his large hands in your own as you lead him to the door. He smiles widely when you stop for a moment, remembering his glasses and placing them on his face before starting to drag him to bed.

“I’ll let you decide that, Love. As long as you make it to bed, that’s apology enough for me.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #beast #x men beast #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy #x men hank mccoy #x men beast headcannons #hank mccoy headcannons #x men beast x reader

68 notes · View notes

weemssapphic · 10 months

Note

Hi lovely! Got so excited when I saw your requests was open again, your writing is so addicting 😍

I’ve had this idea since I saw a post with a gif of Larissa holding a teaching pen and I can’t stop thinking about it.

What if Larissa was actually teaching anatomy one day at the school you being the assistant teacher for that specific class and at the same time you being secretly in a relationship with her. So as she teaches the class you become more and more turned on, while she talks about the body not being able to control yourself. Ending up having to take Larissa to her private rooms, saying “teach me anatomy” and Larissa be like “didn’t you pay any attention to me earlier” while getting you to “learn anatomy” on her body. Larissa receiving/reader giving, real smutty and hot! Kinks are more than welcome too, hope it makes sense! x if you won’t, it’s totally okay ❤️

Hello ❤️ thank you so much for the compliment and for the request - I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this (I wasn't very happy with my first draft and I'm super against posting something I hate). But I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏼

Teach Me

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Words: ~3.3k

Content/warnings: nsfw (smut) - choking, authority kink, praise kink, hair pulling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, strap-on use

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Good morning, class! I’ll be taking over this week’s lessons until Ms. Hanson is back from her sick leave. Today we’ll be going over last week’s exam, and then if we have time we’ll start chapter 8. Any questions?” Met with a brief silence, Larissa continued. “Excellent. Let’s start, shall we?”

Larissa nodded over at you, a small sign for you as the assistant teacher to make your way down the rows of desks and hand the students back their graded tests. Some of them groaned, some squealed in delight - once you’d finished your task, you made your way back to the front of the room, making eye contact with Larissa as you did so. You found her watching you with a faint smirk and a quirked eyebrow.

God, she was so hot when she did that. The smirk painted on those luscious red lips started a small flame in your abdomen - the blue eyes that bore into your own held just a smidge of teasing amusement as you visibly shivered. Larissa knew just what she was doing to you, she always did - her eyes briefly flicked down your body, drinking in your form, and you felt yourself flush.

The two of you had been in a relationship for several months now, choosing to keep it a secret from your students and most of your coworkers for the sake of professionalism. It was normally an easy secret to keep as, apart from staff meetings, your professional interactions were limited to none - especially in front of the students. Today, however, Larissa was taking over the class you normally assisted for, which was equally delightful and a little nerve-wracking.

Larissa was a force to be reckoned with. You’d seen her address the entire school plenty of times as principal, but there was something about seeing her take control of a classroom that was unbelievably arousing. She spoke with such passion, making sure to involve the students and encourage them - somehow, she managed to create a collaborative environment where even the shyest of students felt comfortable enough to speak up.

You couldn’t help but think that, if you’d had a teacher like her when you were younger, maybe you’d have learned a thing or two in anatomy class - perhaps even enjoyed the subject.

Or maybe not, you reasoned, as your eyes fell to Larissa’s backside, perfectly displayed in her form-fitting dress, when she leaned over her desk to rifle through a stack of papers. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single damned word.

And as anticipated, as the lesson progressed, you found it harder and harder to concentrate. You tried, you really did - keeping your eyes mostly on the students or on your notes, rather than on Larissa, trying to soak up every word that was being said in case your assistance was needed. This proved more difficult than you thought it would, as even Larissa’s voice, authoritative yet soft, served to get you worked up. But you were almost successful - until Larissa found that she had just enough time left in the lesson to start chapter 8 and reached into the drawer of her desk to pull out a pointer.

You watched, mesmerized, as she extended it and walked up to the blackboard. If anyone were to ask you what was drawn up there, you wouldn’t have been able to say, even though you’d prepared the lesson yourself due to Ms. Hanson’s absence - your mind went blank as your eyes were glued to Larissa’s hands. Long, red-tipped fingers gripped the pointer firmly, flexing around the little stick. Her other hand waved around animatedly as she spoke.

You squeezed your thighs together, growing more uncomfortable by the second as the dampness between your legs grew. You’d always loved how she spoke with her hands - right now, you couldn’t help but ponder what else she could be doing with them. How those long fingers could reach deep inside of you, curling against your-

The shrill sound of the bell ripped you from your trance, signaling the end of the lesson. Students began to rise, gathering at the door to shuffle out of the classroom and to the cafeteria for lunch. You swallowed hard, your eyes finding Larissa at her desk as she packed away her laptop and some papers.

You were on your feet the second the last student had closed the door behind themselves, taking long strides towards Larissa’s desk. She raised her head and smiled at you.

“Darling, I-”

Your lips met hers in a desperate, sloppy kiss, a needy moan clawing its way out of your throat. Larissa let out a chuckle as you deepened the kiss, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks as she pulled back.

“What was that for?” she asked playfully, humor dancing in her eyes. “Not that I’m complaining…” Her lips curled up into a smirk.

“That was for how hot you look teaching.” Your breaths came out in ragged puffs as you captured her lips once again. This time, Larissa let out a soft moan, fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you closer.

“We have a few hours until the next class… Everyone else is at lunch,” you mumbled against her lips.

“And what would you like to do with all that free time?” Larissa’s voice was low and raspy - it only served to turn you on further.

“You could teach me anatomy?”

“Were you not paying attention earlier?” Larissa teased.

“Nope,” you murmured. “I think I need a private tutor.”

“And you’re certain I’m not too distracting?” she purred.

“Rissa…” It came out whinier than you intended, but that didn’t appear to matter much: Larissa grinned against your lips, pressing one final kiss to them before allowing you to drag her through empty corridors all the way to her private quarters.

Larissa had you pinned against the door the second it closed behind you. Her hips pushed into yours as she clicked the lock, and then her hands were on either side of your head, trapping you against the oak as her lips found your neck. She sucked at your pulse point, her teeth grazing over the sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me, darling,” she purred, her voice dropping an octave, her warm breath washing over your ear. “What do you remember from today’s lesson?”

Your breathing stuttered in your chest - if it had been hard to think before, well, now it was simply impossible. All you could focus on was how Larissa loomed over you, her body pressed against yours, her lips on your ear. The heat at the apex of your thighs was becoming unbearable.

“I-I don’t know… just- your hands,” you stuttered out sheepishly - that really was all you remembered, Larissa’s fingers flexing as she spoke, how they-

“Funny,” she whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. You felt your knees begin to give out - if Larissa hadn’t been pressing you to the door, you might’ve collapsed on the spot. “I don’t remember that being a topic in today’s lesson. Perhaps it’s better we start with the basics then, hmm?”

Before you could come up with a suitable reply, you felt Larissa’s hand close around your throat, her fingers applying gentle but firm pressure, flexing against your sensitive skin. You met her gaze to see blown pupils gazing hungrily down at you, painted lips pulled into a seductive smirk.

“Think you can be a good girl for me?” Larissa’s eyes were hooded as she looked down at you, applying just a little more pressure to the sides of your neck. You nodded fervently, not trusting yourself to speak, and Larissa grinned.

She let go of your throat, ignoring your whimper of disappointment, and turned to stroll nonchalantly towards the bedroom. “Give me 2 minutes, then you can come,” she called airily as she disappeared into the hallway.

They felt like the longest two minutes of your life. When they were over, you headed after her, your spine tingling with excitement. You walked into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed in her bra and panties, legs parted - her heels had been kicked off, her dress discarded.

“Larissa…”

“Now, is that how you think you should address a teacher?” Larissa raised an eyebrow, lips turned into a disapproving frown.

“Uh… Principal Weems?” Your face felt hot with embarrassment, but then Larissa grinned and let out a pleased hum and you found yourself growing hot for an entirely different reason.

She spread her legs and your eyes fell to the damp spot at the center of her panties. You felt your mouth go dry and you took a few steps forward, until you were standing between her legs. She made no move to touch you - she simply watched you with an amused grin plastered on her face.

“Why don’t you show me what you know, darling? My body is at your disposal…”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you lunged forward, planting a sloppy kiss to Larissa’s lips as your hands began to trail down her body, finding the clasp of her bra and quickly undoing it. You slid the straps down her arms and dropped the garment onto the floor, focusing your attention on her now exposed chest. Your lips trailed down her skin until they found one of her breasts, and you began to litter the soft mound of flesh in little kisses and bites.

“Take my nipple into your mouth and suck,” Larissa instructed, her voice slightly breathy but still firm and commanding. You did as you were told, sucking on the small, rosy bud and feeling it harden under your tongue. “You may bite - gently.” You grazed your teeth over her nipple before biting down, feeling Larissa arch into you and hearing her sharp intake of breath.

“Good girl, now the other one.” The heat between your legs grew as Larissa commanded you, and you mirrored your actions on her other breast.

You left a trail of kisses down Larissa’s stomach - the soft swell of which was so tantalizing that, with a cautious glance up at the blonde, you sunk your teeth into her flesh, biting down gently. A strangled gasp escaped Larissa’s throat and she looked down at you in amusement.

“Getting a bit bolder now, are we?” she teased, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks went pink. “I’m not stopping you, darling.” With her permission, you spent a few more minutes loving on her stomach and hips, biting and sucking, then soothing the little marks you left with a gentle lick of your tongue.

Soon, Larissa began to squirm beneath you, giving your head a gentle push. You settled between her plush thighs then, taking a moment to give them the same reverent treatment as Larissa let out quiet sounds of pleasure.

You pressed a soft kiss to Larissa’s cunt through her underwear, before pulling the garment down her legs to reveal her dripping sex.

The scent of Larissa’s arousal hung heavy in the air, she was already so wet for you - you licked your way up her slit, taking a second to worship her folds before finally circling your tongue around her swollen clit.

“Fuck, Riss, you taste amazing,” you groaned. You felt Larissa’s hand on the back of your head, then a sharp tug at your hair. Larissa looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I-I’m sorry, Principal Weems,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” Larissa purred. The hand holding your hair loosened its grip and you resumed your ministrations against her clit, flicking your tongue over it in little kitten licks.

Larissa arched her back off the bed and rolled her hips against your face. Ironically, considering the lesson, you knew her body well by now - you knew she wanted you inside of her. Happy to comply, you began to tease her entrance with your fingertip, earning yourself a breathy whine from the blonde.

“Enough teasing,” she murmured, and you slipped one digit into her hole, slowly pumping it in and out, before adding a second. Her walls stretched around your fingers and she let out a soft hum.

“Such a good student,” she teased, her voice breathy. “Quick learner.” You could almost hear the smirk in her voice, and it only served to turn you on further - you were certain your underwear was ruined.

Your fingers found a steady rhythm inside of her, curling into the soft, spongy spot that had her writhing beneath you. Using your other hand to hold Larissa’s thigh and steady yourself, you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked, letting out a wanton groan as you felt her begin to tremble.

Larissa came undone beneath you, letting out a drawn-out moan as her hips bucked erratically against your face. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, until she stilled beneath you and allowed herself to sink into the mattress.

You crawled up Larissa’s body, settling on top of her and pressing a bruising kiss to her lips which she immediately deepend with a low groan as she licked her arousal off your tongue.

“Principal Weems?” you mumbled against her lips. She hummed in response. “You said I could do anything, right?”

Larissa grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a sharp yank, the pain sending a shiver all the way down to your toes. Her painted lips were pulled into a devilish smirk and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“And what exactly are you proposing, darling?”

You bit your lower lip, blushing as you reached for the drawer of Larissa’s beside table - her smirk widened and she rested her head back against the pillow, watching you intently.

You pulled out the harness and dildo that rested in the drawer, your blush deepening as Larissa hummed her approval. She never took your eyes off you as you tugged the harness over your hips, tightening the straps and securing the fake cock in place.

Larissa squirmed impatiently on the bed, already spreading her legs for you. You could see how wet she was and your own clit ached at the sight. Larissa reached out for your hips and you caught her wrists, pushing forward and pinning her arms over her head.

Larissa’s pupils widened at the action, a gasp escaping her lips, her hips squirming.

You reached back into the drawer with the hand that wasn’t holding Larissa’s arms in place and pulled out a burgundy silk tie, dangling it in front of her face. She grinned up at you, giving you her best, innocent doe eyes.

“Go ahead, darling, I’m waiting,” she teased. You tied Larissa’s wrists to the headboard, making sure it was tight enough to hold her but loose enough so it wouldn’t hurt.

“That okay?”

After giving her wrists an experimental tug, Larissa nodded in confirmation. You pressed a searing kiss to her lips, before trailing kisses down her body, caressing her bare hips with your hands. You stopped at her inner thighs, taking a few moments to worship them with kitten licks and litter them in little bruises until you felt Larissa squirm desperately beneath you. The low whine that she let out was so delicious that you groaned into her pussy, and she bucked her hips up impatiently.

You placed a hand on either one of her thighs, spreading her legs open for you. She bent them at the knee and titled her hips up eagerly.

“So pretty,” you groaned as you zeroed in on her dripping cunt, taking the fake cock in your hand and teasing her hole before sliding easily inside of her. Larissa’s lips parted to let out a gasp and she squeezed her eyes shut as she got used to the sensation of being stretched out.

When she opened her eyes again, she gave you a nod and gently bucked her hips. You began to thrust the cock in and out of her, finding a slow and steady pace at which to fuck her.

Leaning over her, you continued your rhythmic thrusting as you wrapped your mouth around her nipple, flicking your tongue over it as your other hand began to fondle the soft swell of her breast.

Each flick of your tongue and thrust of your hips drew an even filthier moan from Larissa’s lips as she rolled her hips against you. Looking up at her through your lashes as you sucked on her breast, you could see her wiggling her arms against the restraints. She gazed hungrily down at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted sensually.

“Kiss me,” Larissa demanded, and though you didn’t think she was in a position to be making demands, you couldn’t resist - you wanted to kiss her so bad, so you did. Your mouth left her nipple in favor of pressing a bruising kiss to her mouth, which she immediately deepened with a breathy sigh.

Your tongues danced around each other, Larissa’s breathing hot and heavy. You swallowed her soft moans and low grunts as you reached deeper and deeper inside of her, tilting your hips in the way you knew would bring her the most pleasure.

Her thighs began to tremble against your hips and she arched her back off the bed, her front pressing insistently into you - her skin was warm and slick with sweat.

One orgasm turned into two, turned into three, until Larissa wrapped her legs around your hips to pull you flush against her.

“I-I c-can’t…” she murmured breathlessly. “P-please…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You caressed her cheek lovingly before pushing yourself up and carefully sliding the dildo out of her. Before removing the harness and tossing it to the ground, you undid the tie around Larissa’s wrists, placing a gentle kiss to each wrist before allowing her to drop her hands to her sides.

You crawled up the bed next to Larissa and snuggled against her, your own breathing almost as labored as hers.

“Was that okay, love?” you asked, pressing a kiss to her flushed cheek. You could feel her nod against you, a small smile playing upon her lips.

“Mmmh, thank you, darling,” she murmured.

You reached over her to check your phone - you still had an hour before your next class.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.” Larissa hummed in response and you went to fetch a warm, damp washcloth and a glass of water, which Larissa drank as you cleaned up traces of her arousal from between her legs. Then you snuggled up next to her and allowed yourself to fall into a light sleep, her arm slung loosely around your waist.

The sound of your phone’s alarm 40 minutes later had you groaning and burrowing your head deeper into the crook of Larissa’s neck.

“Do we have to teach today? Can’t we just cancel the classes and stay here?” You gave Larissa your best puppy-dog eyes and biggest pout, but you knew as soon as she chuckled and kissed your forehead that your pleading wouldn’t work.

“After how much work you put in to prepare everything?” Larissa teased, and you rolled your eyes and huffed. “Tell you what.” Her voice dropped an octave and she moved her mouth to your ear - you had to clench your thighs together in response. “If you’re a good girl this afternoon, then I’ll show you what I know tonight.” You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as Larissa’s breath washed over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps on your neck. With that motivation, you allowed yourself to be ushered out of bed and dressed yourself for your afternoon classes - only now, the ache between your thighs was even worse than it had been that morning. How you were going to survive the rest of your classes and be a good girl, you had no idea.

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @yourlocaldisneyvillain @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @willowshadenox @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @mysaviorfalsegod @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @lilfartbox1 @daydream-cement @catechristiesstuff @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac

Join my taglist!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader

351 notes · View notes