#Is the babe included on the package

[hooked-on-elvis]

December 12, 1956: Elvis and Hungerford Furniture At the 'Lost Photoshoot' and the Campaign that never was.

Read everything about this campaign photo shoot here: elvisechoesofthepast.com

The first picture is among my top favorite Elvis photographs. I just love his photos around vinyls. 💿 ♥

[dearlenore]

BED CHEM • S.REID • PT2

SUMMARY: despite spencer’s better judgement, he takes you up on your offer to bring the team to a concert. In return they have to promise to stop teasing him, however you definitely made no promises.

PAIRING: singer!fem!reader x spencer

tags: fluff, reader is hyper feminine, reader wears revealing clothing reader wears makeup, sabrina carpenter inspired, mentions of pregnancy (Juno) dirty jokes, flustered spence for you, use of song lyrics, sexual implications

a/n: yall r THIRSTY so i had to deliver💋

w/c: 1.8k

TAGLIST: @cherryblossomfairyy @spct0r @3sriracha

Despite every logical instinct telling him otherwise, Spencer found himself leading the BAU team into the bustling concert venue, their seats front and center. The energy of the arena was electric, anticipation buzzing in the air as fans eagerly waited for you to take the stage after intermission. The show hadn’t even fully started yet, but the team was already acting like this was the biggest case of their careers.

“I can’t believe you actually caved,” Morgan teased, clapping Spencer on the back as they settled into their seats.

“I had to,” Spencer muttered, crossing his arms. “It was the only way to get you all to stop teasing me.”

Emily smirked, settling into her chair. “Correction: you got us to stop teasing you. I don’t recall your girlfriend making any such promises.”

Spencer sighed, rubbing his temples. He should’ve known better.

Penelope was practically vibrating as they walked in, already decked out in your tour merch, including a custom-made FBI jacket with your lyrics bedazzled on the back. “Oh, my God, we are so close to the stage! I can’t breathe! Reid, if I pass out, you are responsible!”

“I feel like you’d pass out even if we were in the nosebleeds,” Rossi commented, amused.

JJ leaned toward Spencer, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, I always imagined you as a theater or classical music kind of guy, but here we are.”

“I am,” Spencer said pointedly. “But someone insisted I ‘let loose’ and ‘enjoy life’ for once.”

Morgan grinned. “America’s sweetheart got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Spencer rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Suddenly, the overhead lights dimmed slightly, signaling the concert was about to start. The arena erupted into cheers, and Penelope let out a high-pitched squeal.

Emily elbowed Spencer. “So, what do you think? Is she gonna call you out again?”

“Hope not..” Spencer mumbled quietly, tucking his hands into his pockets.

The team all watched as you stood on stage, the instrumental faded from your song ‘decode’ to ‘Juno.’

The moment Spencer settled into the noise, the stage lights burst into golden brilliance. A hush of anticipation pulsed through the crowd before the opening notes of Juno rang through the arena. The energy shifted instantly—excited screams rippling across the venue, a beat so deep it reverberated in his chest.

And then, there you were.

The stage belonged to you. Every inch of it.

Spencer knew you like this—saw you like this—a thousand times over. But it never failed to knock the air from his lungs.

You moved effortlessly, confidence woven into every step, every roll of your shoulders, every teasing smirk as the first lyric spilled from your lips.

Your voice was smooth, sultry, slipping into the air like honey, thick with flirtation and playfulness. The bodysuit you wore glittered with every shift of your hips, catching the light, the curves of your body accentuated as if the universe conspired to make you impossibly radiant.

Spencer wasn’t sure how long he’d been holding his breath.

“Oh yeah, you just get it… Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit… God bless your dad’s genetics.”

He felt those words settle into his bones

The way you delivered them—cheeky, deliberate, filled with that signature teasing lilt—made his pulse quicken. But beyond the playful seduction was something deeper. Something real.

It was the way your eyes gleamed when you sang, like you meant every word. Like you weren’t just performing for an audience.

The chorus hit, and you twirled with a grace that made it look effortless, but Spencer knew better. He knew how much work went into every movement, every transition, how meticulously you crafted each moment to be perfect.

And, God, it was perfect.

“I know you want my touch for life… If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno…”

His stomach tightened.

He wasn’t blind to the implications. Not to the way you leaned into the lyric, not to the subtle smirk playing on your lips as you brushed a hand along your body, as if the idea of forever was something tangible—something you’d thought about.

Something in Spencer’s chest ached.

Because even though this was a show, even though it was part of your craft, he knew you. He knew the way your mind worked, the way you wrote songs like little secrets, tucked between the chords and melodies.

This wasn’t just about fantasy.

This was about him.

Then—your gaze flickered downward. Past the sea of screaming fans. Past the blinding lights.

And you found him.

For a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe.

You didn’t break eye contact, your voice dipping into something lower, more intimate, waving hello to his co workers.

“Oh, I hear you knockin’, baby…”

Then—you pointed at him.

“Come on up.”

The arena erupted, but Spencer barely registered it.

All he could see was you—your grin, the knowing glint in your eyes, the way you sang that line like a private joke between lovers.

Heat crawled up his neck, his heartbeat thrumming wildly in his ears.

And then, as if to completely destroy him—

“Have you ever tried this one?”

You sat on the stage, mimicking a cowboy position.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d seen you perform countless times before, watched you in awe from side stage, traced the setlist with his fingers while waiting for you to return to him after a show. But something about this—about seeing you, right here, surrounded by thousands, yet somehow making him feel like the only one in the room—was intoxicating.

He barely noticed the song transitioning, barely heard the crowd still screaming, still living for every move you made.

All he knew was that no matter how many times he watched you on stage, it would never be enough.

THE FIRST THING the BAU saw when they entered the dressing room wasn’t the glamorous, larger-than-life pop star they had just watched dominate an entire arena.

It was you, sitting up on a counter, barefoot, lipgloss slightly smudged, eating a box of macarons.

Not delicately. Not with the grace of America’s sweetheart.

No.

You were shoving an entire pistachio macaron into your mouth as if you hadn’t eaten in days.

The team froze.

“…Are you okay?” JJ asked cautiously.

You glanced up mid-chew, looking way too innocent for someone who had just given that performance. “Starving,” you mumbled through the cookie, eyes teary. “I haven’t eaten since noon.”

Penelope gasped, scandalized. “Noon? My poor baby.”

“I know.” You pouted dramatically before shoving another macaron in your mouth.

The room remained silent for a second, as if they were all still processing the contrast between the powerhouse performer they’d just watched and the girl devouring overpriced pastries in front of them.

Emily was the first to crack.

She snorted. “Wow. I gotta say, this is not how I expected our first meeting to go.”

You grinned, still chewing. “Better or worse?”

“Honestly? Better.”

Morgan shook his head, grinning. “Damn, I really thought you’d be all glamorous and intimidating backstage. But nah—you’re just a person.”

You swallowed and smirked. “Disappointed?”

“Oh, not at all,” he said, laughing. “I much prefer this version.”

Penelope was still staring, utterly enamored. “I cannot believe you’re real.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Penelope gestured wildly. “I mean, I have worshiped you since forever, and I’ve imagined a million ways this moment could go, but never once did I think it would involve macarons and counter slouching.”

You gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I am exceptionally glamorous when I slouch.”

JJ laughed. “You really are just a normal person, huh?”

You shrugged. “Shh. Don’t tell Twitter.”

Emily grinned. “Too late. You do know your entire fanbase is losing their minds over that performance, right?”

You smirked. “As they should.”

Spencer, who had been leaning against the doorway, watching you with quiet fondness, finally spoke. “They’re also analyzing every single lyric of Juno again.”

You groaned dramatically, slumping further into the couch. “I know. And I know they’re going to start another FBI boyfriend theory thread.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “I mean… are they wrong?”

You smiled but didn’t answer, popping another macaron into your mouth.

Penelope gasped suddenly. “Wait! Before you pass out from exhaustion, can you sign this?” She practically shoved a vinyl record at you, eyes wide with hope. “I brought my favorite album just in case, and now that you’re here, I—”

“Of course.” You took the pen and grinned as you scrawled your signature across the cover. “Do you want me to write ‘To my best friend Penelope’?”

She gasped. “Oh my God, yes.”

Morgan rolled his eyes, smirking. “Girl, you just met her.”

“She’s America’s sweetheart. We are spiritually connected.”

You handed her the signed record, smiling. “Happy to make it official.”

Penelope squealed, clutching it to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

JJ, watching the interaction, shook her head in amusement. “Okay, yeah. I get it now. You’re dangerously likable.”

You smirked. “It’s part of the brand.”

Emily grinned. “I respect the hustle.”

They watched as you put the box aside and flipped your hair, immediately reverting back to who you were on stage.

Morgan nudged Spencer with an exaggerated look. “Alright, genius, I take it back. Now I understand why you’ve been keeping her all to yourself.”

Spencer just sighed. “I knew this was going to happen.”

You giggled but then suddenly let out a long, exhausted sigh, your body sinking deeper as you sat on the counter. Your limbs felt heavy, the adrenaline finally wearing off. You rubbed your eyes sleepily before looking up at Spencer with a tired expression.

“My love, can you take me home now?”

Spencer’s expression softened instantly.

He walked over without hesitation, offering his hand. You took it, letting him pull you to your feet—only to immediately stumble forward.

Spencer caught you with ease, arms wrapping around your waist as you practically melted into him, pressing your cheek against his chest.

“Whoa,” he murmured, steadying you. “You okay?”

You hummed sleepily. “Mhm. Just so tired.”

Spencer smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know. Let’s get you home.”

The team watched, and oh, they were definitely going to have a field day with this.

Morgan grinned. “So, what what spell did you cast on her?”

Spencer groaned. “Can one of you be normal about this?”

“Not a chance,” JJ said, laughing.

You giggled against Spencer’s chest, as he picked you up with ease.

“You guys are worse than my fans.”

Penelope gasped. “That is the highest compliment you could ever give me.”

You laughed softly before closing your eyes again, completely content in Spencer’s arms.

“Alright,” Spencer said, adjusting his grip. “We’re leaving before you all make this worse.”

Morgan smirked. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this, lover boy.”

Spencer shot him a glare before guiding you toward the door.

You barely registered anything else, too warm, too tired, too safe in Spencer’s arms.

The last thing you heard before the door closed behind you was Emily’s amused voice.

“God, they’re disgustingly cute.”

[madwomansapologist]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ༘⋆ rizz? oh, you mean my autism?

★彡 synopsis: jjk boyfriends' ways of loving an autistic reader.

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, hajime kashimo.

bella's note: my new year's resolution? to be way more self-indulgent!

.ᐟ.ᐟ KENTO 'QUIZ TIME' NANAMI

The first time it happened, Kento assumed you were way too focused on work to cook something before you were about to faint. The second time, maybe you were distracted. From then on, it was a pattern Kento couldn’t unsee.

Arms shaking as you cook. Changing the shower temperature when your skin is burning hot. Only washing your glasses when they are so dusty he could draw on them. Waking up on the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

You only listen to your needs when your body screams.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Do you need a drink?” — “Have you eaten anything? That doesn’t count.” — “Want me to close the curtains?” — “Come clean your glasses with me. I could clean yours, but you would need to clean mine. That’s what I thought.” — “Did you pay your bills this month?” — “Have you watched that movie you told me about?” — “Are you going to bed or I’ll have to start undressing? Oh, so now you hear me?”

.ᐟ.ᐟ CHOSO 'ACCIDENTAL MIME' KAMO

Choso would’ve never noticed if you hadn’t got mad at him. Mocking you? of course he was not! That’s so mean, Choso would never do that to someone he loves.

You have this habit. Of repeating words or phrases others use. Choso thought it was sweet. It showed that you were paying attention to every conversation. He started doing the same for you to know that he was listening, too.

Choso would’ve never understood if it wasn’t for Yuji. Echolalia. You weren’t doing it on purpose. It was automatic. What he saw as a habit was something you have no control over. When Choso started doing the same, you thought it was his way of saying “stop that, you’re bothering me.”

Once Choso explained himself, it was your turn to think it was a sweet habit.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to.” — “Choso, you’re very beautiful. Wait.” — “Can you shut up? Sorry.” — “Do you want to go out? I would love to.” — “Fuck that. Hey, Yuji, don’t use those words.” — “Babe? Yes?”

.ᐟ.ᐟ SUGURO 'SOCIAL CLUES TRANSLATOR' GETO

People, most often than not, will say things without actually saying them. The first time the meaning behind someone’s word were completely lost once they reached your ears, Suguru thought it was amusing. But then he understood some think it’s only logical to blame you for not getting what they chose not to say.

Arguing with someone unwilling to change their ways is pointless. If they don’t want to communicate with others, so be it. Suguru would pity them for wasting their chance of knowing you, but he prefers when you spend your time with him.

In important events, Suguru will tell you what to expect. Out with friends, he may warn you about someone not being very happy. Oh, the countless times Suguru was the one to explain that “no, honey, they didn’t mean it literally.”

Suguru would rather not being called tutorial mascot by his partner, but if you’re happy… so be it.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Hyperbole.” — “I think that was her polite way of spitting on his face. It gave me chills.” — “I also don’t know what he meant by that.” — “She’s definitely lying.” — “Not literally.” — “Shit. Satoru will ask me to give a speech. You will pretend to be sick? ... I love you.”

.ᐟ.ᐟ HAJIME 'TELL ME MORE' KASHIMO

Hajime WILL know about all your special interests. You have no say in this matter. He wants to know everything about you that there is to know. After all, what is love if not seeing the other and accepting them entirely?

He prefers to do it while he trains. Hajime will practice his techniques with your voice to sooth his muscles. Don’t matter what is on your mind, he wants to hear it all. A specific actress, some movie you saw, penguins? Lovely, keep going.

It's endearing the way you know so much about what you love. Makes Hajime want to ask you what you know about him. Just to check.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "No, no. Please, keep going." — "And that was created when?" — "Your voice is enchanting." — "How did you discovered that?" — "I think, when I was young, I read a book that mentioned this." — "Talk to me. I want to listen."

.ᐟ.ᐟ TOJI 'HUMAN FURNACE' FUSHIGURO

Toji knows how to read someone. It's useful. If he can understand their desires and fears, then he knows what to expect. When it comes to you, what surprises Toji is that he uses this skill to help instead of getting something for himself.

He learned to read you. To understand what your body tells without the need to hearing it from you. Toji understands when something makes you upset, mad, uncomfortable. Even when you're drowning on your emotions and nothing else makes sense: Toji knows you.

And what he learned is that, to silence your mind from all those confusing thoughts, something bigger against you can be distracting enough. To be more exact, to have Toji against you. On his lap, between his arms, beneath him on the couch.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "I'm warm? How sweet of you." — "Can you hear me now?" — "You feel like you can’t breath? I'll let you go when you get sure of that." — "How's your mind now? Too crowded?" — "Forget about them. Just look at me. That's right. It's you and me, nothing else matters."

.ᐟ.ᐟ SATORU 'DEFENSE ATTORNEY' GOJO

Has someone been harsh to you? A boss ignored your rights? A doctor diminished your requests and questions? You know who to call: Satoru Gojo, your beautiful, funny, interesting, inteligent, kind, considerate [50 adjectives later] boyfriend!

Satoru WILL fight anyone that tries to disrespect you. Don’t matter who, don’t matter why. He's ready to throw hands (or cursed energy, to specify). It can be your mom, he doesn’t care. No one messes with you.

But he also defends you in more pacific terms. He will give whole ass lessons to people that tried to argue with you. He will keep talking until they get it right. If someone tries to embarrass you, Satoru is embarrassing them. He doesn’t care about anyone. If they were able to make you uncomfortable, than they are able of dealing with some discomfort too.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "Well, actually..." — "I understand what you're saying. Completely. But you're wrong and I will tell why exactly why." — "Say that again." — "You must think you are so funny." — "You think so? Ok, sit down. I'll explain it all to you."

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[pawstriez]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

“holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[quillsandcravats]

The Doll from Dover | A.B. x fem!Reader

Summary: Anthony returns home from a trip with gifts for you, your children, and your unborn babe...including yet another doll for your doted-upon daughter. You tease him, but he insists no present is too much for his little girl. 🧸 Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!wife!Reader Rated: G Word count: 1.6k Warnings: reader is pregnant, parenting, other than this is pure and sweet fluff Requested: Yes

Bridgerton House buzzes with a quiet excitement as news travels from the servants' quarters to your family: the Viscount has come back. Edmund II, affectionately known as ‘little Edmund’ to his Grandmama Violet, waits impatiently near the front door of the estate, peaking out of the large windows. He gleefully waits, practically bouncing in anticipation, as he spots the carriage making its way down the cobblestone drive. He reaches down, his tiny fingers fiddling with the edge of his knee-high socks, a furrow of concentration etched across his boyish face. At just six years old, he feels the weight of responsibility, eager to emulate his father’s grace and dignity. The spinning top, a vibrant swirl of colors, lies neglected on a nearby table, a gift from Uncle Benedict that usually commands his full attention. But today, he sacrifices its joyful whirl for his father’s return.

The door opens, and little Edmund grins wide, spotting his father immediately. He idolizes Anthony deeply — and feels an aching absence when he's away. Edmund cherishes the moments spent with his Papa in the quiet of his study, pretending to write his own ledgers in a childlike scrawl. In contrast, his father diligently works on the genuine ones. He is often reminded that one day, when he grows big and strong like Papa, he will occupy the same desk. The six-year-old offers a swift, polite bow before darting forward and melting into a tender embrace in Anthony’s waiting arms.

“Hello, my boy!” Anthony smiles, squeezing Edmund II affectionately before placing him back down. Anthony recalls being held by his own father like this, filling him with a wistful, bittersweet feeling.

He hears the tiny pitter-patter of her feet on the pinewood of the hallway, bringing him out of his nostalgia.

"Papa!" Charlotte giggles, her three-year-old voice ringing out joyfully. Anthony is overcome with love at the sight of her - a flurry of ribbons and curls. He lifts her into his arms and twirls her around, prompting loud laughter from his daughter.

“There is my little lady,” He gently kisses her forehead, cuddling her close to him. Charlotte takes in the comforting scent of her Papa. She leans back, placing two chubby hands on his cheeks. He beams warmly in response, gazing into the eyes that mirror his own. “I missed you much, my darling girl. I hope you and Brother have been good while I have been gone?”

“Yes, Papa! I was the man of the house, just like you said to be,” Edmund says, holding up his head proudly, hands behind his back just as he sees Anthony do repeatedly.

He places Charlotte back down as the servants discreetly take his coat and gloves. A footman stumbles in behind him, swaying as though he is tipsy, desperately attempting to peer over a towering stack of cumbersome boxes. One box teeters precariously, and in a heroic yet clumsy effort, he lunges to catch it, all while trying to maintain his gracefulness and suppress a bead of sweat that threatens to betray him.

Anthony barely turns, “Oh, Ephraim, please take the packages to the drawing room.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Anthony holds Charlotte’s tiny hand while Edmund eagerly runs into the drawing room to see which fantastical box is his. The Viscount never forgets to bring gifts home for his family when away on business.

The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the drawing room as you sit in a high-backed chair, concentrating on your embroidery hoop. The needle moves deftly through the fabric, creating patterns of flowers and leaves. The creak of the door disturbs the quiet, and you glance up, curious to see who enters.

“Mama! Mama! Papa is back from Dover!” your son announces. “And he has bought parcels! Many!”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head in amusement as Ephraim carefully places everything on the floor. His weariness is evident. With a respectful bow, he addresses you, "Lady Bridgerton."

"Thank you, Ephraim. You may go now."

Then, you see your husband enter with your daughter by his side, and your heart fills with warmth. Oh, how deeply you love Anthony Bridgerton.When you first fell for him, it was more akin to puppy love. But now, you have watched him grow into a strong Viscount and an adoring father. He has become everything he ever promised to be - and you take great pride in being his Viscountess.

He approaches you with a gentle smile, bending down to softly kiss the back of your hand. You giggle, feeling like a young debutante being courted for the very first time.

“Wife.”

“Husband,” you beam.

Anthony’s lips curl into a tranquil grin as he reaches out, pulling you into a warm hug. The scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of cedar and citrus, envelopes you as he leans in for a tender kiss.

“Yuck,” Edmund chirps, occupying himself with the spinning top he had been playing with again. You and Anthony glance at each other before splitting your sides with laughter.

“My Dear, it is delightful to see you.”

“I have missed you so, Anthony. We all have.”

“Do come; gifts await each of you,” he announces, gesturing toward the pile of wrapped items.

You sink into the sofa's plush cushions, watching Edmund settle himself cross-legged on the carpet, a spot he always claims. Charlotte climbs up beside you, her legs swinging freely above the floor, unable to reach it with her tiny feet.

Anthony gives you the first box. "For my Viscountess," he says, watching eagerly as you take it in. The present is wrapped exquisitely in thick paper and tied with a bow in your favorite color. You smile as you gently undo the wrapping, placing the ribbon beside you. A delighted gasp falls from your lips as you behold what is inside — a fine hair comb with a delicate scroll-like filigree design. It is embellished by a beautiful sapphire, bordered by two salt-water pearls.

Next, Edmund is handed his box. He does not take as much gentleness as you, tearing the paper impatiently. He holds up his gift, getting up to run over and give Anthony another hug. The toy knight in his hand carries the scent of fresh-cut wood, mingling with a faint hint of varnish and paint. “A brave fellow for my brave boy,” your husband announces. Edmund examines it with awe, smiling wide at his father.

“He is wonderful, Papa!”

Anthony picks up the most prominent package and sits next to Charlotte. The bundle is carefully wrapped in soft linen and tied with a luxurious silk ribbon that glistens in the light. He gently assists her in opening the gift, his fingers working together with her tiny hands to unveil the hidden treasure within. As the wrapping falls away, it reveals a stunning porcelain doll. The doll's face is delicately painted, her features artfully detailed, with brown curls cascading down, mirroring Charlotte’s own. She even wears miniature stays and a muslin gown styled in the elegant French fashion, complete with intricate lace and tiny, perfectly placed buttons. The doll embodies a sense of grace and charm, a perfect little companion for a highborn girl, brought to life with exquisite artisanship.

Little Charlotte’s eyes light up wide, and she immediately clutches the doll to her chest. “She shall sleep with me tonight!” she declares with all her authority. Anthony nods and plants a soft kiss on her head.

“Do not forget to name her Charlotte.”

“Oh, I shall name her y/n. Like Mama!” Charlotte retorts, running a hand over the doll's shiny curls. “She is pretty like Mama, too.”

Your heart glows as you place an adoring hand on your chest, leaning over to give your daughter the tiniest peck on her cheek.

Anthony then presents a final, more delicate package—a handmade baby bonnet—for your soon-to-arrive child. He gently places his hand on your belly with a sense of wonder.

“For the little one, not yet arrived, but never far from thought.”

“Oh, Anthony,” you smile, holding the teeny hat. “It will be perfect.” You place your hand atop his. Just then, you feel the faintest feeling - like a flit of hummingbird wings inside your abdomen, followed by a swift kick to your ribcage. “Ah!” you pant with a soft laugh.

Anthony’s eyes go wide as saucers, realizing that he has just felt your unborn baby move. “Well, someone has taken a fancy to their gift.”

Later, in your private chambers, you sit on the plush velvet stool, drawing a brush through your hair with deliberate strokes. A smile tugs at your lips, and your eyes glint with mischief as you tease him, your voice laced with affection and a hint of challenge.

“Do you suppose she shall remember the names of all her dolls, My Lord? I believe we’ve reached fifty.”

Anthony slowly unfastens the buttons of his waistcoat. A soft titter escapes his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement at your words.

“Fifty-one, in fact. And each entirely necessary.”

Your eyebrow arches upward as a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes. “Entirely?”

Now clad only in his breeches, Anthony approaches you quietly from behind. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace, his chin on your shoulder. Together, you both look into the mirror. You set your brush aside, your fingers curling around his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, hanging onto this moment. His voice, when he speaks, is delicately adoring.

“She is my only daughter. My little girl. And this one came from Dover. It would have been most unkind to return without it.”

“If this child is a girl as well,” he murmurs, planting a soft peck on the crown of your head, “I shall be compelled to procure an entire nursery of dolls.”

You chuckle murmuringly, leaning back against his chest. “You’ll raise a house of spoiled daughters,” you admonish facetiously.

“I should be the most fortunate man alive, then.”

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED, REPOSTED, OR TRANSLATED FOR ANY REASON WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

Anthony Taglist: @whatcjdidnext @i-do-not-care-bear @enchantedbytomandhenry Taglist Form!

[astraljedi]

No one's ever had me, not like you (Joaquin Torres)

This wasn't requested but I just had to write something about these two again. It's mundane, cute and smutty.

Part 1 here

Warnings: Contains spoilers from Captain America: Brave New World, SMUT, 18+ only

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Female OC

Word Count: 3,561

Song: So High School by Taylor Swift

A/N: I will always include a Taylor Swift song for every single thing I write 🤪 -

Why does moving have to be so stressful?

I brush back a few stray hairs, already done styling it for the day. The bathroom counter is a disaster—mine and Joaquin’s everyday essentials scattered everywhere. Somewhere in the mess is my makeup bag.

“I hate moving,” I mutter to myself, stepping out of the bathroom to check the bedroom.

The whole apartment is in shambles—more opened boxes than packed ones, clothes draped over furniture, and random belongings scattered across the floor. Ever since Joaquin got the all-clear from his doctor after the accident, we’ve been trying to pack as much as possible. The fixer-upper is nearly done, and moving day is a week away. But between my long hours at work and him easing back into his routine, packing has been slow.

I spot my floral makeup bag on the floor next to the dresser and grab it before heading back to the bathroom. Our mornings have looked the same for the past month—Joaquin wakes up early for his run, I make him breakfast, and then I get ready for work. By the time I’m almost dressed, he’s back with my first coffee of the day.

“Baby, ya llegué,” Joaquin calls from the front door. I hear him moving around the kitchen before the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs. A few moments later, he appears with two coffees in hand.

I close my mascara tube and press a quick kiss to his lips before taking my cup.

“How was your run?” I ask, savoring the warmth between my hands as I lean against the counter.

Joaquin leans against the doorframe, cradling his own coffee. “It was good. You should come with me sometime.”

I snort. “Sorry, baby, but if there’s one thing you will always fail at, it’s convincing me to run for fun. I only run when I have to.”

Joaquin huffs a dramatic sigh, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “You know what I never fail at?” He pauses just long enough for me to raise a curious brow before smirking. “Pleasing you.”

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “Wow. That was smooth.”

He grins and steps closer, pressing a teasing kiss to my neck. “It’s also true.”

I press a hand to his chest, pushing him back playfully. “Go take a shower before you get too cocky.”

Joaquin chuckles but obeys, leaving me to roll my eyes and finish getting ready with a smile on my lips.

Before I leave the bathroom, I attempt to organize the counter, but it’s useless. I walk out and head downstairs to prep my work bag while Joaquin showers. “Babe, have you seen my binder?” I call out once I hear the water shut off.

“I don’t think so,” he responds.

I search the cluttered dining table and the living room, but the green binder is nowhere to be found. Joaquin comes down the stairs, hair still damp, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Did you find it?” he asks.

“No, but I know I brought it up from the car last night.” I sigh, scanning the room again. “We really need to tackle this mess. I’ll try to leave work early today.”

Joaquin smirks. “When I asked you to move in two years ago, I didn’t realize you came as a package deal with decorative pillows and an insane amount of mugs.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Found your binder.” He steps out of the kitchen, holding it up with a smug grin. “It was under the box labeled ‘mugs.’”

I reach for it, but he pulls it behind his back. “Joaquin, I’m going to be late. Please.”

“Kiss me, and I’ll let you have it.” He puckers his lips.

I roll my eyes but step closer anyway. It’s criminal that he’s standing here in just a towel, and I have to leave for work. Pressing against him, I slide my hands around his neck and kiss him. Joaquin instantly melts into it, parting his lips to welcome me in.

I tug on his hair, teasing, and he groans.

My hand trails down his biceps, squeezing as I move lower. I let my fingers skim over the edge of the towel at his hips. The binder hits the floor beside us, long forgotten. Joaquin lets out a low moan as I undo the towel and wrap my fingers around him, stroking slowly.

His grip tightens on my waist, pulling me closer.

Just when he’s fully lost in it, I pull back with a smirk, grab the binder, and press a playful kiss to his hip. “Have fun without me,” I tease, giggling as I step back to grab my bag.

Joaquin lets out a dramatic groan, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to get you back for this.” He reaches for the towel, trying to cover himself, but the smile on his face betrays him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “But you’re evil.”

I shoot him a wink before heading out the door.

At work, the pace of the day drags a little too slowly for my liking. Flight training is always something I look forward to; being in the air and handing the other pilots their asses is always fun. Something that’s not fun? All the paperwork that has to be done before leaving the base.

I manage to leave my office at 6 p.m., which is better than yesterday when I left at 8:30 p.m. After I pack my bag, I turn off all the lights and lock my door behind me. I say my goodbyes quickly and make my way to my car before anyone can stop me with more paperwork that can wait until tomorrow.

All I want is to get home to my boyfriend, have a glass of wine, and try to pack the apartment. Maybe Joaquin was right—I do have a lot of mugs, but at the new house, we have plenty of storage for them.

When Joaquin got into his accident, we ended up hiring a contractor to help with the house since he was going to be unable to help me with our DIYs. It was expensive, but at least it’s done.

I arrive at the apartment and unlock the door. “I’m home! I know I said I was going to be home early, but it’s only six-thirty. We can still tackle the boxes,” I call out, turning on the lights to the darkened apartment. When the living room lights up, I’m left in shock. The whole living room—no, the whole first floor—is clean, and the boxes are taped off.

I drop my things on the floor as Joaquin walks down the stairs, a wide smile on his lips. “Surprise.”

“H-how?” I stutter, in awe and shock that he managed to do this in twelve hours. “B-baby…”

“You took care of me for months, took time from work to stay by my side and support me through it all,” he begins. He grabs my hands into his and walks me toward the stairs. “It’s my turn to take care of you. It’s my time to show you how much I love you.”

I can’t even form words to say; I just stare at him, teary-eyed, as he pulls me into our also-cleared room. “Take a shower, and when you’re done, we’re going to get your favorite takeout, and then I have another surprise.”

“Thank you,” I manage to say. He presses a gentle kiss on my lips and leaves me to take a calming shower. It feels like a heavy weight just lifted from my shoulders the moment I saw everything packed.

Once I’m clean and wearing my comfy clothes, Joaquin locks the front door of our apartment and opens the car door for me, like he usually does. “I called ahead and ordered from your favorite Italian place; I just have to get it, and we can eat once we get to your surprise.”

“What are you planning, baby?” I say, my hands resting on the back of his neck, twirling his hair while his hand rests on my thigh.

“All I’m planning is showing you how much I love you.”

The food pickup only takes a few minutes, but Joaquin doesn’t let me get it. He goes, and soon enough, he’s walking back with two full takeout bags. I admire him as he drives, my fingers finding their way to the back of his neck again. His hair has grown in, the curls I love so much finally making an appearance.

“I love it when you let your hair grow like this,” I admit, twirling a soft curl around my finger.

“I know,” he smirks. “You love pulling it, too.”

I roll my eyes, but before I can fire back, I realize we’re already parked—right in front of our house. Our house. The words still feel surreal.

Joaquin is out of the car in an instant, rounding the hood before I can even reach for the handle. He opens my door and grabs my hand, helping me out. His touch lingers, thumb brushing along my wrist before he lets go to grab the takeout bags.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” he says, dropping the food on the kitchen counter before lacing our fingers together.

“Another surprise?” I giggle as he tugs me down the hallway.

We pass the half bath, then my office—except the door is shut. Joaquin steps behind me, covering my eyes with one hand as he pushes the door open with the other.

I let him guide me in, my pulse picking up in anticipation.

He drops his hand. My eyes adjust to the sudden clarity before settling on the stunning built-in bookshelves mounted along the back wall. My desk is already in place, centered perfectly in front of the shelves.

I gasp, too stunned to move.

“I know you wanted your own built-in library,” Joaquin murmurs, pressing against my back. His arms wrap around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Javier and I started on it right after the paint dried.”

My heart clenches, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness.

“I also laid out some blankets,” he adds, turning me slightly toward the floor. A nest of blankets, pillows, and battery-powered candles fills the space, glowing softly in the dim room.

“Ay, perdón. You give me my dream library, and all I noticed were the shelves,” I tease, turning in his arms to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

I slip from his grasp, fingertips tracing the smooth wood. “You know, some people just get a gift card. You decided to build me an entire library.”

Joaquin steps closer, sliding his hands around my waist. His voice is low, rough with intent.

“You deserve this and more.”

His hands slip beneath my shirt, calloused fingers dragging over my skin. I shiver at the contrast, my body already aching for him.

“What you did this morning?” he murmurs, lips brushing my throat. “Pure evil.”

A whimper escapes me as his hands drift lower, gripping the waistband of my sweatpants before sliding them down.

“But I forgive you.”

He sinks to his knees, pulling my underwear down with slow movements.  “We have to check the quality of these shelves,” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh. “Make sure they can hold all your romance books.”

His fingers squeeze my hips as he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder.  “Hold tight, baby.”

Before I can grasp the shelf, his mouth is on me, and I moan loudly. Not a care that our new neighbors might hear from the echoes in the barely furnished house.

Joaquin doesn’t waste any time. His tongue moves against me, teasingly slow. My eyes shift down, and I meet his dark chocolate gaze staring back at me. Savoring every reaction he pulls from me. My fingers grip the edge of the shelf, my knee threatening to buckle as his tongue works wonders, need simmering in his eyes.

“Baby,” I gasp, my free hand burying itself in his curls, tugging just the way I know he likes.

He groans against me, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure up my spine. His grip on my thighs tightens, holding me in place as he devours me like he’s been starving for this—starving for me.

“Tell me what you need. I need your words, baby.”

“I need you, please, Joaquin.” I’m already close, my body coiling, every nerve alive with need.

And then he stops.

A desperate whimper escapes me as he pulls back, lips glistening, eyes dark with heat.  “Not yet,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth along my inner thigh, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. “I want to take my time with you.”

“Joaquin, please,” I breathe, but he just smirks, hands sliding up my sides as he stands.

I barely get a chance to catch my breath before his lips crash into mine, hot and hungry. The taste of myself on his tongue only makes me needier. I release my hold on the shelf, my hand roaming down to his pants. I need them off—now.

Joaquin bites my lower lip and smacks my hand off his cock. With little effort, he spins me around and pins me against the shelves, holding my arms behind my back.  “So desperate for me, huh?” he murmurs before nibbling on the sensitive spot on my neck.

“Please, baby.” I whine, my cunt already dripping. I press my ass to his groin, grinding on him, trying to get some friction. I think I have him, feeling his grip loosen on my hands, but he spins me around to face him and places me on my brand new desk.

“I thought we might break in the new desk.” He smirks, pulling my sweatshirt over my head and laying me gently on the cold wood.  “Touch yourself.” His voice is a low, but demanding growl.

I watch, breath hitching, as he pulls down his pants, his hard cock springing free. He strokes himself, spreading the precum as I lower my hand to my own heat. My fingers circle my clit a few times before sliding two fingers into my cunt. I gasp, pumping in and out, stretching myself out.

“Good girl,” Joaquin praises. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” I moan, running my free hand over my hardened nipple before bringing it back down to circle my clit. My hips move in sync with my hands as the familiar coil builds up. I squirm on the desk, my eyes falling shut close off the edge of pleasure.

“I can’t let you have all the fun.” Joaquin grabs my wrist, stopping me. I cry out, my body thrumming with frustration, and he brings my fingers to his mouth, sucking hard on my juices. The warmth of his tongue against my skin draws a deep moan from me before he lets them go with a pop.

He grabs my ankles and pulls me down so my ass rests on the edge of the desk. His torturing touch soothes the skin of my inner thigh, skipping my heat and landing on my waist, holding me in place.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing kisses down my chest, lingering at the swell of my breasts before he takes one into his mouth.

I arch into him, fingers clawing at his back, desperate to feel more of him.

He groans as I push at his shirt, and in one quick motion, he pulls it off, tossing it aside before settling between my legs. His skin is hot against mine, every shift of his body making me dizzy with want.

“Baby,” I pant, nails digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips against mine, teasing, torturing. “Please stop teasing.”

He grins, breathless. “Impatient, baby?”

“Ya cállate,” I mutter, pulling him down into another kiss.

He chuckles against my lips but doesn’t push me further. Instead, he reaches down, lining himself up with me. His forehead presses against mine, his breath heavy, and then he’s pushing into me, slow and deep, every worry and thought gone from my head.

A sharp gasp escapes me as I cling to him, every inch of me stretching to take him in. Joaquin stills, his lips ghosting over mine as if grounding himself.  “God, you feel perfect,” he groans.

I barely have a second to adjust before he moves, slow at first, dragging out every sensation until I’m trembling beneath him.

The desk creaks with every thrust under us. Needing something to anchor myself to, I grip his shoulders tighter.

Joaquin chuckles. “Guess it’s sturdy,” he murmurs, his voice strained but with a teasing edge.

I laugh breathlessly, but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he thrusts deeper, his pace picking up, his name slipping past my lips. 

It’s dizzying, overwhelming in the best way, and when his hand slips between us, fingers finding that sensitive spot, it’s enough to send me spiraling.

I cry out, my body tightening around him as pleasure crashes over me in waves. Joaquin isn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic before he groans, burying his face in my neck as he comes undone.

For a moment, all I can hear is our heavy breathing, the faint flicker of the battery-powered candles casting soft shadows around the room.

Joaquin presses a lazy kiss to my collarbone, then my jaw, then the corner of my lips.  “So,” he murmurs, grinning. “Building quality approved?”

I laugh, still breathless, still dazed. “Yeah,” I manage. “Twelve out of ten.”

He hums, picking me up from the desk. He walks toward the blankets and lays me down on a pillow.  “Good. We can test the kitchen counters later, just to make sure they installed them correctly.”

I smack his arm playfully, but my smile betrays me. “You’re ridiculous.”

He kisses my forehead before pulling away to fetch his boxers. “Dinner might be cold, though.”

“I don’t care, just bring it up. I’m starving.”

Joaquin disappears for a moment, and I expect him to come back with just our dinner, but instead, he returns with a warm washcloth in one hand and the to-go bags in the other. He kneels between my legs, the teasing smirk from earlier replaced with something softer, something quieter.

We both stay silent as he cleans me up, his touch impossibly gentle. My heart aches in the best way, love and appreciation swelling in my chest.

I watch him, warmth creeping up my neck, and when his eyes meet mine again, the words slip out before I can stop them. “I love you.”

His gaze softens even more. “I love you.” He presses a kiss to my temple before settling in beside me, pulling the extra blanket over us. He closes the space between us, legs tangling with mine as he grabs the takeout bags. “I don’t think they’re that cold.”

I snort, taking the container he hands me. “I told you I didn’t care if it was cold.”

“You say that now, but the second you put that sad, cold carbonara in your mouth, you’re gonna blame me for ruining your favorite dish.”

I roll my eyes but take a bite anyway, and okay, maybe he’s right. Cold carbonara isn’t amazing, but I don’t care.

For a while, we eat in comfortable silence. But the thought that’s been lingering in the back of my mind refuses to stay quiet. I set my fork down, debating if this is the right moment. I don’t want to ruin the night, but I also can’t keep spiraling over it.

“I don’t think I’m re-enlisting when my contract is up.”

Joaquin stills, his fork halfway to his mouth. His brows lift slightly, but he doesn’t look surprised—just waiting, listening.

“You’re serious?”

I nod, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like my future anymore.” I glance down, tracing a seam in the blanket. “I want to open a romance bookstore.”

Joaquin doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches me, studying me in that way he does when he’s working through something in his head. Then, slowly, a small smile tugs at his lips.

“A romance bookstore?”

I look down at my food, suddenly feeling shy. “Yeah. I’ve been looking into it. I have some savings that could be enough.” I shrug, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I love flying, and it’ll always be a part of me. But…I want to settle down. I want to enjoy our home, be with you, and build something that’s mine.”

Joaquin sets his food aside and shifts closer, his warm hand covering mine. “That’s what you want?” His voice is steady, but there’s something else in his eyes—concern, maybe. Not doubt, just worry.

I nod again. “Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, leaving the force to open a bookstore. But I think I can do it.”

Joaquin’s thumb brushes over my knuckles, slow and thoughtful. “It doesn’t sound crazy,” he murmurs. “It sounds like you.”

I blink up at him, my chest tightening.

He squeezes my hand. “And I think you can do it, too.”

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 01

post cibum - "after a meal" - Kinktober Masterlist TF141 x f!reader Kinks > wet/messy, food play, objectification Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Your new job as a professional nyotaimori model pays all the bills and then some, but tonight, you are serving a group of soldiers who want more than just the novelty of eating fancy sushi rolls off of a naked woman. After they’ve had their fill of the nigiri and the rolls, they want you for dessert. 

“That’s fine, sir. We can do a seven o’clock tonight. Have you had a chance to choose your selections from the menu?”

You strained your ears as you listened to your maître d' consult with a customer over the phone. You were prepping in the adjoining room, going through your normal routine, but the growling, Manchester accent coming through the speaker was making it difficult to focus.  

“Yeah, give us a full spread. The works. No barriers.”

It must be a big party, you thought. The full spread option included a large array of sushi and sashimi. Asking for no barriers was quite adventurous, and you felt your skin flush with excitement. 

“Yes, sir. And would you like your artist bound or unbound?”

“Mm,” he thought for a minute, and you tried to send telepathic messages to the gruff stranger, “Let’s have ‘er tied down.”

Yes, you celebrated, already imagining the feel of the ropes crossing over the big, wooden table and pinning you to it, forcing you to stay in place all night long.

“And will you be including the sake option?”

“Yeah, sure. Johnny’s a bloody lush.”

Your heart began to race just imagining what sort of night you were in for. The sake option meant needing to shave your sensitive pussy completely bare, so you added that step to your process. Being a food model wasn’t something anyone seemed to take seriously, but you felt like a true artist, and you wanted your guests to have an unforgettable experience when they came to dine with you… on you. 

“Alright, sir, that’s –”

“And we want the additional package. I’ll pay extra. Whatever it costs. Just put it on the tab.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like A, B, or C?” 

The additional package? How did he know about that? You’d never performed for this man before – you would not have been able to forget that voice – and only your regulars knew about your secret options.

“A and B, but keep her mouth open, yeah? In case she gets hungry…”

His dark laugh made your blood burn in your veins. Your add-on package meant that he wanted to fill your holes while you lay on the table for him. Option A was for a large glass dildo in your pussy, warmed and heavy, option B was for a bulbous anal plug made of the same body-safe glass, and option C was for a rubber ball-gag in your mouth. But, he wanted to have access to you there, and that made you almost see stars when you thought about the implications. What did your mystery Manc have planned for you?

“Yes, sir. Do you know how many will be in your party tonight?”

“Four. The one with the mohawk is the birthday boy.”

“Thank you, sir. I will add that to the notes. Any allergies?”

“No.”

“And the name for the party?”

“Riley.”

“Thank you. See you later.”

When she hung up the phone, you listened to her boots clack against the marble floor as she came into your dressing room,

“Hey babes, here’s your ticket for tonight. Table of four. Bunch of soldiers. Sure you’re up for it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, not feeling as confident as you sounded, “Just make sure to keep their drinks coming. They tip more when they’re drunk.”

You winked at her and she laughed, closing the door behind her to let you finish grooming and cleansing your body. 

Each swipe of your razor was another tantalizing part of your ritual. Once you were fully shaved, you cleaned your skin with special antibacterial soap before applying neutral oils that wouldn’t affect the taste of the food. No perfume, no deodorant. Those were the standards. You weren’t allowed to talk, or to move if you were bound by the tight ropes that pinned you to the table, and you were simply there to be a beautiful platter for the immaculately-made sushi. 

At more traditional restaurants, your position was revered, and guests were forbidden from interacting with you directly. You’d worked at a number of venues that hosted nyotaimori events, all with varying levels of standards and rules, but this one paid the most. This place allowed their guests to do almost anything they wanted, and those high risk situations added to the excitement and to your bank account. However, you’d never felt safer. There were cameras, guards, and highly trained staff all over the premises, and if you ever needed to press your emergency button, you could do so. You wore your panic ring at all times, and you’d used it effectively once or twice; it worked like a dream. 

But, you had to admit, it wasn’t just the money that kept you coming back here. You liked the clients. You liked feeling their hands and mouths eating off of your warm body. You enjoyed the more adventurous customers who wanted to taste you and touch you after they were done with their food. It was exhilarating, and you loved being at their mercy. 

Just before your call time, your attendant brought you your glass dildo and anal plug from the back. They had been sanitized, and you used a little lube to insert the familiar, rigid shape into your pussy. You felt yourself already wet from anticipation, and although the glass phallus was thick and heavy, you took it with a satisfying ease. 

The anal plug was another story. You used much more lube and began to play with your hole with your fingers before you committed to pressing it through your tight rim. The pressure from the fat dildo in your cunt made it even harder to accept, but after a few deep breaths, you felt your body relax and allow the round bulb to sit inside of your ass, pushing against all of the sensitive nerve endings inside of your stretched hole. 

You washed your hands thoroughly and cleansed your skin again, just to be sure. Eventually, you finished with your prep and walked through the hallways to lay on your long black table. It was a chabudai, a short table where guests would sit on mats on the floor, and the dining room where you served was dimly lit, very minimally decorated, and had instrumental music playing softly through the speakers. You looked up into the corner and saw the camera light go from red to green. It was showtime. 

Your attendant returned to perform your shibari. You were laying on your back, and she tied your wrists to your thighs, making sure to position your thumb so that you could press your panic ring easily. Then, she began to lay the ropes over your ribs, framing your breasts, using the ties to make them stand perky and proud on your chest. Finally, she fed the bindings under the table and fastened them down. You were stuck. You could bend your knees and twist your body, but that was about it. 

“All good, ma’am?” She asked.

You nodded,

“Yes, thank you. All good.”

“Alright. I’ll tell chef.”

She left you alone, and you tried your best to focus on your breathing. The dildo was nudging a very sensitive spot inside of you, and you pulsed against it, attempting to find some relief. But, you were just making it worse. Your clenching muscles were allowing it to thrust against you, and no amount of wiggling was going to grant you any reprieve. So, you stopped. You shut off your mind as much as you could, listening to the music and imagining an infinite, empty expanse in your head. 

The door clicked open and the sushi chef came in with his two other servers. They set to work, laying slabs of salmon and octopus sashimi across your breasts in a spiral pattern, using delicate roe to dust the inner circle over your hard nipples, making it look like the pollen-covered pistil of a flower, the fish serving as your beautiful petals. 

A row of maki trailed their way down your belly and each arm. More sashimi were laid on all the places where a roll wouldn’t sit, and one of the chef’s assistants began to place thinly-sliced mango across your neck like a choker. Your legs were covered in sushi and more fruit, and finally, right in the join of your legs, you balanced a bowl with a single lotus flower inside. 

The door cracked again, and your attendant poked her head in,

“Chef, your party is here. Should we send them in?”

The chef nodded, and everyone left the room. But, this time, the silence was deafening rather than zen. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t wait to see and hear and feel what these four guests had in store for you. 

Finally, the door opened, and you heard their jovial laughter and talking. 

“Cannae believe you got a reservation, LT! Been dyin’ to try this for the longest.”

“I know, Johnny,” you recognized that deep, Manchester accent, “Won’t shut up about it.”

Johnny finally came into view. He peered down at you with a uniquely boyish wonder, staring at your face and your body like a kid at Christmas, eager to unwrap his presents. His friends surrounded him on both sides. You guessed that the wry blond was Simon, your vocal crush. You didn’t know the other two, but they were just as nice to look at. One of them was enormous, over-muscled with a bit of a belly, and an odd beard. The other was like a professional athlete, chiseled and masculine, with big brown eyes and dark, smooth skin. 

“Sure is a pretty plate, huh, lads?” The beard spoke with a growling, gravely Scouse accent. He was a smoker, that was for sure. 

“Fittest table I’ve ever seen,” the athlete smiled, his full lips revealing sharp, blinding teeth. 

“Please, have a seat, gentlemen,” your attendant put on her best sexy customer-service voice, “First round is on the house.”

“Oh, shit,” Johnny laughed.

He and his friends ordered an absurd amount of alcohol, and then you were left alone with your party. 

“Think we can get started?” Johnny asked, “Is that alright with you, bonnie?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the bearded one hit him lazily on the arm with the back of his hand, 

“She isn’t supposed to speak, MacTavish. Didn’t you fuckin’ listen, or is all the blood that’s meant to be in your brain stuck in your prick?”

“Here, Captain,” the athlete called the bearded one over, “Try this.”

You felt the soft wood of your restaurant’s polished chopsticks graze the side of your breast as he lifted a slab of salmon off of your skin. 

The captain grabbed the fish with his fingers clumsily, but he slurped it down, groaning with pleasure,

“Mm, that’s not bad, Gaz.”

Johnny reached out to you, his hands steady and sure, 

“Lemme try…”

You felt his warm thumb graze over the top of your nipple, pushing some of the fresh roe onto a cut of octopus, and as he curled the fish, he let it drag over the same spot he touched, purposefully teasing you. 

Once they started, they didn’t want to stop. Their hands were roaming all over you, picking up food and feasting on what you had to offer. 

“Look here,” Gaz commented, letting his fingers swipe up the side of your ribs, gathering up dark sauce and licking it off of his knuckle. 

“Oh, tha’ looks tasty,” Johnny smiled, leaning his head down and using his tongue to lick up the rest of the flavor, taking great pains to get as close to the side of your breast as he dared. 

They were getting braver, but you could tell they still weren’t sure what they were allowed to do.

Before long, your attendant was back, ready to get more drinks and appetizers for your men, and you listened to them politely dismiss her, too focused on their task at hand: uncovering you from your delicate morsels of sushi. 

“Mm,” Simon grunted, “Not bad, hm?”

“It’s proper tasty,” the captain agreed. 

“I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying yourselves,” your attendant encouraged them, “Could I interest you in a sake presentation?”

“Wha’s tha?” Johnny asked with his mouth full, excited to know more. 

“Your artist has more than one talent, gentlemen,” she smiled coyly down at you, kneeling beside the table, carefully removing the bowl from where it was so carefully perched on your pussy. 

The whole room stood still as your smooth, oiled vulva was revealed. Your attendant leaned over you, pouring warm sake into the divot between your closed legs and your mons, filling the space with drink. She made sure the men were looking at her with rapt attention, and she bent to suck the alcohol from your body, her mouth sucking right below your clit, slurping up the delicious sake until it was almost gone. 

“Creepin’ Jesus,” Johnny said under his breath, “Can I do one, lass?”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled, “Of course! You can do anything you like.”

“Anything…”

Johnny’s eyes watched as she filled the crevice between your legs again, letting the sparkling fluid pool and ripple against your skin. Then, when she was done with her pour, he bent to drink from you, putting his mouth exactly where hers had been, gulping and swallowing the sweet brew, his eyes fixed on your pretty pussy until you were empty. Then, he stole a lick, shoving his tongue between your lips to tease your clit, testing the limits of what was allowed, trying to find the boundary. 

“I’ll leave the bottle, yes?” Your attendant asked, leaving it on the table without waiting for an answer. 

“Thanks, love,” the captain smiled, watching his friend hovering over your wet quim as Johnny considered going back between your legs for seconds.  

“Go on, then, Sergeant,” Simon encouraged him, “For what I fuckin’ paid, you better enjoy it.”

That was the only permission the mohawked birthday boy needed. He sank his hot mouth down onto your pussy and began to suckle at your clit like it was part of his meal. He laved his tongue inside of your swollen lips, licking you in rhythmic, rolling thrusts. 

You tried your best to control your reactions, but there was only so much you could do to contain your pleasure. Gaz noticed when your eyes rolled back in your head, your lashes fluttering closed as you tried to breathe through the feeling. 

“Delicious, aren’t ya, babe?” 

He bent his head to your breast, feasting on the two pieces of sashimi that were left behind, using his tongue to pull them into his mouth. You could feel the warmth of his full lips on your skin as he ate from you, and every little touch was electrified by Johnny’s feast between your legs. 

As Gaz chewed on his bite, he used his thick finger to scoop up the fresh roe that remained on the peak of your nipple. Then, he bent over you, smiling like a demon, 

“Open up.”

You obeyed, and you melted into your submission. The hard, unflinching stare from those big brown eyes was enough to crush your will to dust. You felt your skin flush across your whole body as you surrendered to him, as if allowing him to control you made you even more sensitive to the touching, licking, kissing, and groping that was happening to you.

He slipped his finger past your lips, placing the roe carefully on your tongue. You felt the tiny eggs spill into your lips like beads. Just when you were about to swallow them, he grabbed your chin in his hand sharply, his face turning darkly serious,

“Hey, open, I said. There’s a good girl. Stick that pretty tongue out for me. Say ahh, pretty girl.”

You did as you were told, and to your shock, he bent his mouth over yours and spit into your throat. You could feel the bubbling drool pooling in your cheeks and sliding to the back of your tongue, but there was nothing you could do about it. His lips turned up into that same dirty smirk as he said, 

“Swallow.”

You took the roe into your mouth and swallowed it along with his saliva, the salt of the fish eggs mixing with the salt and alcoholic tinge in his spit. He must’ve been drinking at the bar before his party sat down at your table because the herbal scent of gin was unmistakable. 

He pet your cheek with the back of his hand, praising you with his touch, watching your face twist with pleasure as Johnny became almost uncontrollable between your legs. The mohawked man was sucking so hard on your clit that the slurping sounds from his mouth were filling the room. 

Gaz bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back. The softness of his lips lulled you into an even deeper sub state, and you felt like you were melting. Suddenly, he forced his tongue into your mouth and wrapped a huge palm around your jaw, holding you in place as he began to slide his slippery muscle in and out of your cheeks. It was as if he was fucking your throat with his tongue, and your mind fed you an imaginary scene of how his cock might feel in its place. 

When he pulled away, you felt Johnny stop his kisses as well, and your body writhed without your consent, desperate to feel them tasting you again. 

“This is the best fuckin’ birthday I’ve ever had,” Johnny smiled, wiping a hand across his shining mouth. 

The man who’d made the booking, Simon, sat beside his friend and pointed between your legs,

“Pour us one, Johnny.” 

“Aye. Here ya go, lads. Slàinte mhath.”

You watched as he poured sake into the divot between your legs again, but he over-indulged. He began to pour it across your belly as well, letting it pool in your belly button and settle in the dip of your sternum. 

The captain was the first to take a sip. He lapped at the pool of sake that splattered across your mons and lips like a hound, aiming to taste you more than he was the alcohol. Then, he followed Johnny’s trail, dragging his hot tongue along the swell of your tummy, aiming for the well of spirits in your belly button. He hovered over it when he found it, and as he leaned down to drink from you, you could feel the tickle of his mustache, making you squirm.

His filthy, gravelly chuckle made your blood run cold. It seemed that he enjoyed forcing your body to respond to his touch. 

“Ticklish, love?” He returned to your lower belly, letting the bristles of his beard tease you until your breathing became ragged, your lungs trying to suck in, doing your best to pull away from him and yet not being able to escape. 

Your tormentor shoved Gaz around the table so that he could tease your breast with his bearded mouth, and Gaz followed suit, both of them fighting for the puddle of sake between your breasts before suckling on your tight nipples. They had such different agendas. Where Gaz seemed to suck because he wanted to see you squirming from pleasure, the captain seemed hell-bent on keeping you from it. 

You could feel him biting into your delicate flesh with his sharp teeth, causing just enough pain to pull you out of your relaxed, pleasure-induced haze. Then, when he could see your eyes flash with just a hint of apprehension, he would retreat, rewarding your responsiveness with a long, deep suck or hungry, flat licks with his tongue, a barely-there smile twisting across his cheeks as he did. 

You felt something brush against your leg, and Simon was using a napkin from the table to wipe the rest of the food off of your legs, not giving a shit about the hundreds of pounds worth of sushi being gathered up in the cloth. Dinner, apparently, was over. 

Your mind raced. This was far and beyond the bravest party you’d ever served before. They worked on you as a team, giving each other silent feedback, and when Simon finally bent to drink from between your legs, your mind was throbbing from the overstimulation. 

You weren’t supposed to, but you began to let long, cracking moans escape from your throat. Anything you did to hold them back was just making them worse, and your voice only seemed to spur these men to double down on their efforts. 

Simon did not eat you like Johnny did. His Scottish companion ate you out like you were the food, but the Manc was more like his captain. He wanted to see where your buttons were, and when he found them, he began to press them just like a lad playing with a shiny new toy. 

His tongue found the body of your clit and swirled around it, avoiding the searing head, swollen and sensitive to the point of discomfort. Instead, he pushed the tip of his tongue just below it, lifting it up, making the hood stretch just enough to apply its pressure. 

You bucked your hips, the sake that rested in your thighs sloshing out, ignored by your new master. He didn’t give you a smug grin like his bearded boss. In fact, you could barely tell what emotion he was feeling. It wasn’t until you met his gaze that you noticed the fire behind his eyes. 

Only then did he begin to drink from you, emptying the alcohol from your body, letting his tongue venture down into the crevice of your thighs and licking between them as if they were your cunt. He had gone deep enough to feel the edge of your dildo, and when he found it, he turned to the others, getting their attention,

“Had them do something special for Johnny. Wanna see your surprise?”

Johnny had been busy sharing a nipple with Gaz, leaving hungry little hickies across your skin. But, when Simon called him over, he seemed all too eager to return between your legs.

“Aye,” he smiled rakishly, “Gonnae spoil me, Si.”

All four men shifted to the foot of the table, their eyes wide and focused on you like hyenas with a wounded gazelle, selfish and ready for their next taste of you.

Simon took your legs and lifted them up, bending your thighs at the hip, showing the others how two fat, glass dildos were shoved deep inside of your holes. 

“Oh, bonnie…” Johnny reached forward, grabbing the dildo stuck in your pussy gently between his fingers and giving it just the slightest twist, “For me? Such a good lass, innit she?”

Simon reached down below Johnny’s hand and began to tug at the anal plug. The resistance was driving you mad. You tried to relax, but he was not waiting on you, and the pressure began to build and build until finally, your muscle relented and you felt the heavy bulb slip wetly out of your asshole, soaking in lube.

“Bloody hell,” Gaz murmured, not wasting any time, sticking a long finger into the gaping hole left behind by the plug, testing the stretch of your ass with his strong hands. 

Simon pressed it back in, forcing Gaz away, slowly fucking the heavy toy back into you, letting it sink inside of your body with a sloppy pop, pushing on it just a little harder than he needed to so that it would feel like it was thrusting inside of you. 

Then, Johnny did the same with the dildo in your swollen pussy. He didn’t pull it all the way out, choosing instead to fuck you with it, shoving it into your hole with wet, slicking sounds, marvelling at the sight. 

You were so drunk from the pleasure that you hadn’t noticed their captain sneaking around to the head of the table. He startled you, grabbing you beneath your arms and yanking you and your ropes up, strong enough to move you even though you were tied down. He had pulled you far enough that your head hung off the edge, and you found yourself staring at his black slacks, amazed at the thickness of his thighs. Then, you watched him roll down his zipper, stroking his cock until it gleamed with his precome. 

You felt his other hand supporting the back of your head, holding you at just the angle he wanted. Then, he purred his command to you,

“Let me in, pretty girl.”

You allowed your muscles to weaken, opening you mouth wide, unsure if you could pry your mouth open enough for his girth to fit inside of you. He chuckled in that same, devilish way, slapping his sticky head against your lips twice before feeding his head into your cheeks, settling at the back of your throat, letting you gag and cough around him all you wanted and doing fuck-all about it. 

Between your legs, you felt the dildo slip out of your pussy, replaced with eager fingers and a tongue. Now that you had the captain’s thick cock to block your noises, you let yourself whine against him like a gag, moaning and crying out from the overwhelming feeling of being used. 

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, lads,” he grunted, “Make her scream for me.”

Both of his hands were cradling your head as he fucked your throat, guiding his fat dick in and out of you like a piston. You breathed when you could, but it was only just enough, and you felt yourself going light-headed. 

A mouth found your nipple again, and a hand rolled itself beside your clit, making frantic circles from above. Then, below your thighs, a round prodding cockhead pressed its way into your lubricated walls, making your dildo seem like nothing more than a thick finger or two. You were being well-stretched, and your body flooded your cunt with wetness to try and ease his way, doing everything it could to make it easier for whoever it was to fit his prick into your warm body.

He rested your ankles against his neck, and your bare feet scraped the side of his head. Buzzed hair. It was the birthday boy afterall. 

“Mmmph, fuckin’ hell, bonnie. Too tight. Too goddamn tight. Fuck…”

As he pumped himself into you, his movements made free and fast by the lube and your dripping cunt, your whole body began to jerk across the table. These men weren’t just large; they were stronger than you could’ve ever imagined, and you felt like you were nothing more than a mere toy to them. 

The fingers teasing your clit were sending your mind into a panicked orgasm, and your whole body convulsed as you let yourself tumble into the swirling madness of your bliss, your eyes wrenched shut and flashes of rainbow light dancing across them as you came violently. 

Apparently, that was enough to send the captain over his edge because as you were trapped in the throes of your orgasm, he shoved himself all the way inside of you and began to pulse hot shots of his come into your belly. You were desperate for air, but there was nothing you could do. They were in control of you, and you were ashamed by how much you enjoyed being at their mercy. 

“Ohhh, Cap’n. She loves tha’, dontcha, lass?”

“Knew she would,” the captain slipped out of your throat, smiling down at you as you gasped wetly for a breath, “Filthy little slag.”

You watched as he shifted to the side of you, his thighs leaving your line of sight, being immediately replaced by a pair of dark jeans. You knew it was Gaz when his wide thumb reached down to wipe the drool and come from your lips, lovingly cleaning up after his captain’s mess. 

“Being so good for us. Still hungry, baby?”

You couldn’t answer him, but he didn’t care. He tugged his long, curved rod out of his pants and let his balls rest on your mouth. You started to suckle on one of them, taking it into your mouth and letting it roll between your lips.

“Yeah, she is. Mmff-fuck, tha’s it.”

Gaz lifted your head up with his hand to help you reach, stroking his huge shaft with the other, jerking off as you did your best to pleasure him, trying to be careful with his sensitive sack. 

Johnny’s thrusts became frantic. Simon and his captain were taking turns pouring sake across your belly and sucking it off of you, and you were dizzy from the feeling of being fucked with your heavy plug inside of you. When you began to come again, it hit you slowly, building and building in waves, making you tremble from the suffocating joy of it. 

You cried out, and your mouth was open wide in a silent oh. Gaz took the chance to feed you his cockhead, giving you something to scream around. You felt Johnny pause deep inside of you, his cock nestled as close to your womb as he could get, and he began to fill you with his come, shamelessly bending himself over you to fit his rod down to its root in your wetness. 

“Christ, bonnie! Come for me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hnngh…” 

He slid himself out of you, but almost immediately, someone filled your empty hole with your dildo, keeping his load sealed safe inside. 

Gaz was still jerking his cock as he rested his tip inside your mouth, and you could feel him shuddering above you, his fingers twisted and tugging at the base of your scalp. 

“Suck on me harder. Yesss,” he groaned, “Just like that… mmfgh. Good… girl…” 

You felt him throbbing, pulsing, and ready to come. Then, just when you were ready to taste him, he pulled out and painted your mouth, chin, and neck white with his seed. There was so much of it, and whatever your tongue could reach, you licked it up, sucking him clean when he let you have the tip one more time before he smeared the remnants of his dripping cream across your cheek. 

Suddenly, Gaz’s hands returned to the back of your head and lifted it up. At the same time, another man yanked your whole body back down the table, making the wood creak from the stress. Now, you could see what was happening to you. 

Simon was holding your thighs, playing with your pussy, making sure your dildo was nice and snug. Then, he removed your anal plug again, twisting it out with a steady tug. When you made a whimpering cry, he looked up at you, and you saw that same light in his gaze, a hunger unlike that of his other friends. Something uncanny and secret about his message that you failed to decode. 

He began to pry open your asshole with his fingers, exploring just past the rim. First, it was just one, but then it was two. They twisted, curling inside of you, plunging deeper and deeper and testing how pliant you were. Your plug was pretty large, so you weren’t usually concerned about a man’s cock being a challenge. But, the way he was preparing your hole made your whole body tense with anticipation, worried about what was going to happen to you. 

You watched him rest your heels on his shoulder, just like his friend had done, and his tattooed hand held your thighs as the other placed his swollen head at the rim of your asshole, teasing it, barely even touching you. 

You thought he would plunge inside, but he never did. He just kept painting little warm circles around you, pressing on the outside yet never allowing himself to slip into your ass. 

“Mngh…” You whined, twisting your hips as much as you could, begging for it. 

“What’s that? Speak up, love. Can’t hear ya.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing you weren’t allowed to break your ceremonial rule but desperate just the same. He let himself smile softly down at you, planting his head at your hole and using the weight of his cock to rest it there. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me you want it. It’ll be our little secret.”

His friends were kneeling around you, spent but still groping your body, licking and kissing you lazily, enjoying watching Simon torment you.

“She doesnae wanna break the rules, Si. Good lass tha’ she is,” Johnny cooed, letting his fingers rest on either side of your clit, drawing deep ovals and watching your face twist in desperation.

“Let him hear it, love. We won’t tell,” the captain whispered in your ear, using his fingers to slide Gaz’s come from your chin into your mouth, making you taste his salty seed. He kept his fingers inside of your lips, pushing them all the way to the back of your throat, letting you suck on them, “Tha’s right. Our perfect little slut.”

Your mind went blank, and all you could focus on was the feeling of relief that would come to you if you just broke your rule…

The captain removed his hand, returning to your tits to suck on them and pinch your nipples. Then, Simon pressed forward just a little more, giving you his head before immediately taking it away, leaving you hollow.

“... please…” You whispered, your voice so shallow and small. 

“What? Cannae hear you, bonnie,” the Scot smiled, moving his hand faster between your pussy lips. 

“I think I heard something, did you?” Gaz joked, raising his eyebrows at Simon, smacking your ass cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“Say it,” Simon growled. 

His team was all smiles, but he was dead on. You locked eyes with him and said it again.

“Please.”

“Fuck,” Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head, the whites peeking through his long lashes, and he sank himself deep into your asshole in one punishing thrust. 

He was as thick as your plug, but he was so much longer, and you had never felt so stretched out in your whole life. As he began to fuck you, he wrapped his hand around the dildo in your pussy, covered in come and lube, and he fucked you in time with his own prick, making it seem like he was in both places at once. 

“You ready for more?” Simon asked you breathlessly, checking in with you. 

You nodded, fuck-drunk but just as submissive as ever. Whatever he asked for, you were ready to give it to him. 

When he saw your shallow nods, he began to fuck you at an incredible pace. Your whole body was shuddering every time he slammed himself forward, and the strength of his thrusts was making you feel like his cock was even bigger than you thought, your poor asshole stretched past the point of comfort. 

“She’s takin’ it so good, Si,” Johnny sighed, watching your face go slack as his friend railed himself into you.

You weren’t even moaning. You were barely breathing. Your mind only had one goal: making you come and come and come. 

“Spread her legs,” Simon commanded his team. 

You heard the schnick of a knife’s blade being unsheathed, and then the ropes around your ankles were sliced away. Gaz and Johnny pulled your knees up to your chest, forcing you open for him like a book. 

Johnny bent down over your pussy and spat onto your slit, smearing it with his fingers. Then, he slapped you gently a few times, increasing the pain each time his hand came down until you were literally screaming from it. But, it didn’t hurt. It just made you come even harder. The pleasure was muting the pain to an incredible degree. You wanted him to give you more, but you were too far gone to ask. 

The captain was kissing your mouth, using his hands to feed you come again, and you couldn’t even kiss him back. Your body was frozen, your muscles tight and stuck in a loop of pleasure. You were coming in cyclical waves, unsure of where one started or ended, just suspended in blissful torment, sucking in breaths when your lungs allowed you to. 

Then, Simon’s movements stuttered, and he slowed, sinking into you as deep as he could fit before pulling out in one swift movement and jerking his cock right in front of your swollen, punished pussy.

He slid the dildo out of you, leaving you feeling empty to the point of grief, and you watched as he hovered at your entrance, shooting his load into your already-filled cunt. Rope after rope of milky come seared its way into you, messy but accurate. Then, he replaced the dildo and sat back on his heels, out of breath. 

His friends let your legs back down, and they all moved away from you, leaving little kisses on your body as they retreated. 

Once they recovered, they had one more shot of sake together, and Johnny poured one into your mouth. 

“There ya go, bonnie. Job well done, aye? This birthday party willnae be topped anytime soon.”

You swallowed the shot, tasting just not the alcohol but the remnants of Gaz’s come as well when it slid down your throat in tandem. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” the captain said, “You don’t have to say your goodbyes yet.”

Simon peered down at you over his shoulder,

“Riverbend street, apartment six, right?”

Your eyes went wide. How did he know where you lived? 

But, before you could ask him, they let themselves out, leaving you stunned, full of their come, and thrilled about what you would find when you finally made it home tonight.

[mangostarjam]

knot happening (part one) — bnha, alpha!bakugou katsuki x f!reader, aged up characters, established relationship, a/b/o dynamics, use of "brat" and "pipsqueak" as pet names, smut in the second part (coming soon), omegaverse!au for the spring fever collab run by @lorelune ! 1.2k words

your new company has some... interesting policies for employee heat cycles. you do your best to find a loophole.

"I can't do it."

"The hell d'ya mean, you can't do it?"

You give your Pro Hero boyfriend and resident alpha A Look. Bakugou Katsuki has the grace to shut his mouth, but he rolls his eyes and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders, yanking you into him on the faded yellow couch you picked out together years ago.

"This is my first heat at this new job, and it's just... embarrassing. Do you know what they do, Katsuki?"

He raises a sharp blonde eyebrow in invitation.

"They..." your voice drops with horror, "they announce it to the whole company."

"Hah?" Katsuki sits up a little, strong thighs flexing beneath his gym shorts. He came in on the tail end of your mental breakdown, finding you pacing in the living room of your apartment with your hands tugging incessantly on your borrowed shirt. "What the fuck?"

"I know," you wail, "it's ridiculous! The president sends out a company wide email explaining your absence, and the HR team sends you a care basket, and the Sales team sets up a pre-heat drinking party! Do you know what's in the care basket, Katsuki?"

"Do I wanna know?"

"It's filled with sex toys, babe! SEX TOYS! From my company! They're branded!"

A spark lights up in Katsuki's otherwise vaguely concerned expression. "Don't they know you're mated?"

"Yes, of course, that was in my file," you wave him off, still seeing horror images of company branded sex toys floating in your mental vision. "I heard from Sasaki in Accounting that the toys are for when your mate needs a break. Y'know, from fucking."

Katsuki's derisive snort is loud and breaks you out of your personal hellhole. "What kinda fuckin' alpha needs a break when their mate needs 'em?"

"Well, not every alpha is a big strong Pro Hero like you," you point out, poking him on one annoyingly firm bicep. The familiar scent of caramel and smoke fills your nose. "And actually, maybe I should ask if they've got any onaholes for when you're the one in heat. Last time I needed another two days to recover."

"Hah?! There's no fucking way I'll use one of those!"

You peer up at your boyfriend reproachfully. "I like being able to walk, Katsuki."

"You don't need to fuckin' walk if I'm carryin' you everywhere, brat."

"Hmm, we'll see," you say. Katsuki's red eyes flash as you tap your bottom lip with your finger thoughtfully. "There's gotta be a way for me to take a week off work without telling them I'm going into heat."

"There's no way you'll be able to avoid it," Katsuki rumbles, leaning forward to catch your finger with his teeth. He nips at it lightly before leaning down more to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. That, more than anything, finally makes your anxiety simmer down. "You always smell so fucking good before it starts. Everyone's gonna notice."

"You're the only one who can do anything about it, though, so you'll have to keep it in your pants or quit picking me up after work."

"Not happening," Katsuki presses another kiss along your hairline and noses into the strands, sniffing deeply. It tickles, and you laugh, trying halfheartedly to shove him off of you. "What else do they give in these care packages?"

"Actually, besides the super cursed sex toys, they include really good snacks and electrolyte drinks to keep your energy up," you say, "and I'm really glad my company is so open about it all, but it's just so embarrassing!"

Katsuki hums, letting you vent out your worries. You look really pretty like this, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, some soft cotton thing that barely covers your perfect ass. He pulls your legs onto his lap and you flop backwards on the couch, moving on from your minor breakdown to sharing a funny story that happened to one of your new coworkers the other day. He had missed hearing about it then, stuck on overtime for a patrol, so he basks in your attention now as the two of you laze around on the couch.

The afternoon passes into evening. It's a rare lazy Monday together — your new job lets you have three day weekends in exchange for slightly longer work days, and Katsuki's patrol schedule happened to line up this week. You're digging into a pint of ice cream after polishing off a plate of his delicious (but spicy) curry and rice when it comes up again.

"What're you gonna do about your heat?"

"Well, I was thinking," you slide your spoon into the thick cream and wave it at him, "I'll still need to use my authorized heat cycle time off, since I want to save my vacation and comp time for real uses, so there's no avoiding the company finding out..."

Katsuki raises an eyebrow and accepts the spoonful of ice cream you're dangling in his face. His tongue pokes out to chase a bit of cream lingering on the edge of his lip and he grins, sharp, at the way your eyes track the movement. "But...?"

You have a feeling Katsuki hasn't fully thought through the horrors of corporate sponsored pleasure items, but you have, and the thought of everyone at your new company knowing you'll be getting fucked within an inch of your life makes you want to shrivel up and die. All companies have policies in place to protect time off for heat cycles, as society couldn't function otherwise, but this is the first place you've worked where impending heat cycles are declared company-wide. Normally it's just marked as time off.

"But they don't have to find out until after it starts, right? So as long as I can get through the pre-heat stuff without anyone noticing, I can avoid the cursed care package and company-wide email!"

"Ain't happening," Katsuki says flatly.

"We've been mated for sooo long now, babe," your gaze flicks up to meet his and you pout. Your boyfriend outright snorts when you start batting your eyelashes at him. "Surely you can resist the pre-heat symptoms this one time? I swear I'll get over my company's shenanigans once I see it happen to a few other people. It's really great how supportive they are, but I need some time, that's all."

"Your heat is in like. Two weeks," Katsuki says.

You pout up at him some more.

"During your last heat cycle we broke the mattress frame when I missed your first few pre-heat days."

"Yeah, but that was because you had that mission that went long," you say. If you could just... convince him... "C'mon, babe, this will be different! You're such a strong, powerful alpha — resisting me will be a piece of cake! Unless..." you pause and scoop another bite of ice cream into your mouth, "you're too weak to resist me."

"Are you callin' me weak?" Katsuki narrows his eyes. You wave your spoon casually and shrug.

"I mean... all you've gotta do is ignore my pre-heat. I'm just an itty bitty omega..."

Getting into a staring match with Pro Hero Dynamight is not on anyone's Top Ten Good Ideas list, but you match your boyfriend's red glare steadily.

"Alright, pipsqueak, you're on," Katsuki scoffs. "We'll see who's beggin' for who by the time your heat rolls around."

part two

[nana-luvy]

. 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 .

warnings: cheesy dripping in sugar fluff, high school!Luke Castellan, afab!reader, reader is apparently a little obsessed with pink

In which you should've talked a little quieter.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You know that myth that high school girls use weird nicknames instead of actual names to talk about people behind their back ? That was far from a myth to you.

"Pikachu ? Who the hell is that one again ?" you asked your friend, visibly confused.

"It's the new guy, Harry, remember ? You know, Harry Potter to thunderbolt to Pikachu," Silena tried to explain without getting too annoyed about having to repeat herself for the nth time. The nicknames weren't always the best idea when one of you two had really a short-term memory.

"Oh, right, right..."

The two of you had nicknames for almost everyone in the class. You had to --you loved a good gossip session at the back of the class during econ, and there were plenty of people to talk about. And Silena, committed as she was, had a new crush every week who required a nickname of his own.

"But, wait- Didn't you talk to me about spider just a few days ago ?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

"Nah girl, spider is so last week... Plus, I saw his arms were as thick as twigs under his hoodie. That's a no-no for me, babe." Silena flicked her hair behind her shoulder sassily.

"Amen, sister," you added, initiating your iconic 'Legally Blondes' handshake.

“Anyways, I have chemistry right now, see you later ~”

“You’ll tell me everything about lab coat right ?” you yelled as your frend left in the other direction.

“And you about hedgehog !” She answered, turning around the corner.

You chuckled to yourself, putting your earphones back on, laughing softly at the mere thought: to have something to tell, you'd need to have any sort of interaction first...

Hedgehog was the nickname Silena had given to your own crush, Luke. Well, little... You had been pretty head over heels for months, now. But, in your opinion, he just had the whole package: curly hair that always looked effortlessly perfect, brown eyes like molten chocolate that drew you into their comfortable warmth, an athletic build after years in the fencing team, a charisma that shone through his every action, and a mischievous smile that could melt the coldest hearts.

He was in most of your classes, including math, were you were headed to at the moment. He usually took the seat in front of yours, and some days you had to put in the extra effort to not get distracted by the soft scent of his cologne or the overpowering of his radiant aura.

And apparently today was one of those days, as you heard his laughter resonate through your ears as soon as you sat on your chair, one you could hear even over the music still blasting in your earphones. You tried to ignore the soothing sound and simply unpacked your stuff, organizing your desk for the hour to come. But you didn't expect a discreet knock on your table, slightly startled by the movement in your vision, and expected even less to see Luke looking back at you when you looked up.

"Ca..row y...en?"

For a second you just looked into his eyes, incredulous, diving into the amber you worshiped so much, before he tilted his head to the side questioningly, a perfect curl falling perfectly on his oh so perfect face... Realization hit you and you instantly took the earphones out of your ears, your music still blasting.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you. You said ?" you rushed, clearly nervous despite your best effort to hide it.

He chuckled, a melody shooting straight to mess with your thoughts. "Yeah, that's pretty loud.." He motioned to your earphones. "Is that really Ayesha you're listening to?" he added, hint of a laugh in his voice as he quirked his eyebrow.

And you couldn't stop the light blush dusting your cheeks. "And unironically."

"Not bad." Luke said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Anyway, I was asking if I could borrow a pen ? I forgot half my stuff this morning and... yeah.” he explained, like trying to justify himself.

“Oh yeah sure, let me just-” you immediately delved into her case, trying to find something other than pink inked pens. Finally, you handed him one. “That should do it. Sorry it’s pink, it’s the only one I have I think… but it’s supposed to write in black, don’t worry.”

“No problem, I think I noticed you didn’t have much other color in your stuff anyways.” he chuckled, before delicately taking the pen you were holding, fingers brushing ever so softly. “Remind me to give it back at the end of the class.”

When he turned back to the board, the teacher now finally in the class to begin class, you were totally red. As cool and normal as it might've been to Luke, that slight, barely there contact had you in total panic mode, hand almost shaking, your fingers hanging in the air as you scrutinized every inch of skin that just touched his.

Finally, you would have something to tell your best friend after all.

--

The bell rang and you bolted out of your seat: you needed to find Silena and take your mind off what had happened just an hour ago. Quickly putting everything back in your backpack, you sprinted out of class, greeting the teacher before going out the door and practically running into your friend, that was apparently already waiting for you.

"The teacher let us out earlier than planned." Silena explained before the question even came up.

"Something happened." You said, wide eyes looking into nothingness. You grabbed your friend's wrist, quickly urging her to the other side of the hallway, not to stay at the entrance of your class.

"With.. who I think something could happen with?"

"Yes."

"Girl, we have five minutes before the next class, so you better make them count." she seriously replied, obviously wanting to know every single detail of the experience. An experience that just remembering had you dizzy and shaking from how unreal it was.

You explained everything, in detail as Silena expressly asked for an in-depth commenting, while going towards the next classroom for Lit, which you had together.

"I swear to goodness it felt like out of a fanfiction..." you whined, still having that tingling feeling in your fingers where Luke had brushed.

"I totally get you, I mea- Those fudging ashes." Silena glared at the two abyss creatures that had taken your usual spots, in the front row, before pouting dramatically. "I don't wanna seat at the baaack..."

You lead her to the back of the class, or more like dragged her, before taking seats next to each other on the last row.

"Could've been worse, we could've been separated." you stated seriously, though a small grin tugged at your lips, because it was a serious matter indeed: there was no way you could sat away from your best friend, how could you pass time in class if you did ?

"Right." You both sat down, putting everything you needed on your desks. "But I can't believe we didn't even have time to talk about lab coat, that boy is really taking over your thoughts... Dang, he's stealing my girlfriend." Silena shook her head from side to side disapprovingly, hugging you from the side in the clingiest way. "You know, I'm really starting to hate hedgehog for that, that little dwarf..."

You scoffed at her statement, before sighing dreamily. "Nah, you can't possibly hate him, he's too cute for that..."

"Why, thank you ~"

The boy in the seat right in front of yours twisted, a large grin on his face as he spoke those words, and you realized you should've paid attention when you took a seat. Because of two simple, common words. But two simple words spoken by Luke, that made you go pale and Silena stifle a laugh behind her hand.

He turned back to the board and away from you and your best friend in the same second as the lesson began, the two of you looking at each other with two purely different gazes. If one of you was clearly entertained by the interaction, a spark of mischief dancing in her brown orbs, the other looked like she wanted to get immediately buried alive 6 feet under. You wanted the ground to split under your chair and swallow you whole.

Silena just nudged your arm with her elbow, before going to listen to the teacher like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, your brain had probably never worked that hard and that fast to come up with a reason as to why in the world and how in the world he knew, all the while trying not to both gush like a crushing thirteen years old or burst into tears from the embarrassment.

The bell rang again and she had paid little to absolutely no attention to the lecture, words written on the white board completely meaningless to her, except maybe the 'cemetery' that did have a certain charm to it in this instant.

"Silena ? I'm going to the toilets. Meet me there." you said to your friend, keeping your sentences short. Your eyelids flickered in shock and panic after what had occurred just an hour ago, again, blinking repetitively. You plastered a small smile on your face before picking up your bag and going out of the classroom.

Once in the school's bathroom, you waited a good ten minutes for your friend, and Literature being your last class of the day you had time to waste. You paced the room, trying to clear your mind, thanking waterproof makeup when you splashed cold water on your face multiple times to try and ease the raging blush of your cheeks.

A few more minutes passed by, and Silena still hadn't come in yet. Actually, the door hadn't opened once since you'd come in; yes, a lot of people had class at this hour, but still, it felt weird. Curiously, you peeked outside of the room, wondering if the bathroom had been closed for public while she was in there for no one to come inside. And when you opened the door, stepping outside, you stumbled upon Luke, looking at his phone, leaning on the wall between the two bathroom doors.

But by the time he looked up, his eyes catching a movement, you had ran back behind the door, your back pressed to the stiff material while your chest heaved up and down quickly, in full blown panic mode again.

"Hey, you okay ? You don't sound well." You could hear his muffled voice on the other side, his worried face immediately conjuring in your mind.

"I"m good! I'm.. I'm good. Fine. Really. Don't worry."

"Very convincing..." You could just imagine his pretty brown eyes squinting with an amused expression on his face.

"What are you even doing here, lurking outside the toilets?" you asked, trying to calm your breathing while still sounding as unbothered as possible.

There was a short moment of silence. "I didn't give you your pen back, earlier."

Perfect, just perfect. "Luke, you can give it back tomorrow- you know what, just keep it, i have plenty of pens. Just go home."

A new silence. "You don't wanna know how I know ?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, pondering what could be the smartest choice, but ultimately opened the door a little, passing your head out.

Turning in your direction, Luke couldn't help but grin, weakly attempting to suppress a laugh at the scene and taking a deep breath to contain it. "Sorry, I'm not mocking you."

"Sure." you mumbled, finally going fully out of the bathroom and standing in front of the door, a few feet away only from the curly haired boy. "So ?"

"Well, I'd say you should pay attention to who's walking behind you when you describe a situation thoroughly, even when you use 'hedgehog' instead of a name." he simply replied, his characteristic smile dancing on his lips as he shrugged like it was obvious.

And you mentally face palmed, because it was obvious. Your eyes widened noticeably and you froze, a simple "Oh" the only breath that made it past your lips.

For a moment you stayed silent, completely frozen on the spot, your brain completely out of service.

"Y/n ? Is there someone behind your eyes ?" Luke joked, shaking a hand in front of your eyes in search of a reaction of some kind.

A name. Your name. In his mouth, rolling of his tongue, crossing his lips, like the only word that should ever exist. And it brought you back to the front of your mind.

“Yeah I- uh- how much did you hear, exactly ?” you asked, scanning his face.

“I’d say…. since the beginning until the end ?”

“Okay well then this is the moment where I tell you to please, please, forget all about it, it is no useful information to you, and I’m now going back inside the bathroom until you leave, bye.” You replied in one go, closing your eyes through it all to not have to face Luke's judgmental gaze, before reaching for the door knob.

But just before you opened it, the boy caught your wrist, your head snapping in his direction in confusion.

“Don’t you think it might be a bit dramatic ? I mean, maybe just forgetting about it isn’t the best solution.” he hinted.

You squinted your eyes at him, annoyance almost taking over your shyness. “Well, seeing as I don’t really feel like dealing with the problem in the logical way, I think my way is actually pretty good, saving you the hassle of the nice rejection and all...”

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn you caught a glimpse of deception flashing behind his amused expression, his smirk faltering for a split second.

There was another moment of silence, before Luke replied. “I mean, is it really good to make assumptions like that ?”

“Actually it is, helps face reality when you already have it all figured out before it happens, you know ?”

The amusement on his face was slowly laced with confusion. “I really don’t get how you’re so smart yet so… not.”

“Uh… Ouch much ?” you replied, slightly offended.

“No I mean- To tell you the truth, i did forget half my stuffs today, but i totally had a bunch of pens in my bag.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Then why would you ask for one ? You wanted a pink one ?” you laughed, trying to ease the growing tension building up in you again, for some reason.

“My friend said it’d be easier to talk to you that way. And I mean, it indeed is since I'm pretty sure I'm talking to you right now.” he said with a little laugh, that sounded more anxious than intended.

You looked at him in disbelief, arching a brow. “Why ?”

Luke finally let go of your wrist, hand coming to scratch his nape awkwardly. “I don’t know… I just wanted to talk to you ?”

“Exactly, why ? You give really little information, you know ?”

“I mean, you looked cu-ool.” he said, tripping over his words a little, his eyes visibly widening.

“Cyool...?” you squinted, confused, before shaking your head to just dismiss it. “Congrats, that makes you one of the two only people who think so, first is my mom.”

“Oh, come on, smartass, don’t make me say it.” he shut his eyes for an instant, nervously sliding a hand through his messy curls.

“Say what ? If you got something else to say, better make it quick before i go back to hide from my embarrassment, that I definitely did not forget about like i’d like to.” you urged him, smiling sarcastically.

Luke looked back in yourr eyes for a moment, the brown of his almost covered by a cloud of hesitation, before he finally parted his lips. “I obviously wanted to say cute, not cyool.”

As expected, you simply froze again. Not even blinking, just staring straight in his eyes, though as if you looked into nothing.

“And I thought it would be no good to just forget about it simply because it’s the perfect occasion to finally ask you out on a… date.” he nervously continued, muttering the last word.

His eyes searched yours for an instant, darting from left to right and looking for a reaction, or even just a connection, before you finally snapped out of it. You blinked repetitively, eyes darting everywhere but on Jamie, before literally pinching herself, ensuring you weren't just daydreaming and wouldn't wake up in math class.

“Waw, uh, okay, I don’t think I ever got that far in a fake scenario. Uhhh…” You just opened and closed your mouth multiple times without even letting out a sound, completely overwhelmed by the current situation. “Hey you know what ? I- um…” You cleared your throat, somewhat hoping it might help clear your thoughts, and finally looked at the boy in front of you. “I’ll text you.”

And you ran off towards the school’s main exit, bag and pink pen in hand.

Stunned for a few seconds, Luke just picked-up his own backpack off the ground and started walking in the same direction, laughing softly. “Weirdly, that was kind of expected..”

Just a few minutes after you left him, he received an instagram notification from what he knew was your account, an audio message. ‘Well, that on the other hand is unexpectedly quick.’ he thought, opening it.

“Yo ma boyyy, it’s Silena ! Soooo… your girl is um… out of service for a little while, I think.. Girl you okay ?? But I’m telling you, she’s totally on for the date thinggg ~ Just text her the details and I’ll personally make sure she makes it in time and place, do not fre- env- do not worry, wow, I can’t even speak properly anymore, I'm turning into you. Anygayssss, maybe don’t text her today though, y’know ? Cause she’s like, freaked out as hellll, but um, yeah. See ya !”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

'thank you' part on a tiktok kicking my feet like crazy, felt like I had to write it ~)

But yeah, hope you guys enjoyed reading, I love you allllll

Nana <3

[prythiansprincess]

babe i had a thought about best friend enzo 🫠

we know he 100% manipulates you when you’re with your bf but i also think he’d mess with your boyfriends head too!! subtly at first and then not so subtly towards the end with the most fucked up shit like you’re wearing your bfs quidditch jersey and he mutters to him in passing “she might be wearing your name but she’ll be moaning mine”

AND THEN your bf tries to tell you and you’re like “enzo would never, how could you accuse him of something like that!?” instant fight. and enzo’s like 😈

oh yes, enzo is absolutely devious. at first, he would befriend your boyfriend and gain his trust. enzo would sprinkle in useful information and advice because after all, no one else knows you better than him. but over time, he would start sabotaging your relationship bit by bit. little things like telling your boyfriend to get you a bouquet of lilies for valentine's day when he clearly knows your favorite flowers are tulips, which he sends to you during class for everyone, including your boyfriend, to see. he would even go so far as sending your boyfriend to honeydukes for nougat chunks and coming to the rescue when he tries to hand it to you. "y/n is allergic to nuts. you're her boyfriend. shouldn't you know that? here, honey, have a chocolate frog instead." more than that, enzo would do things to purposely piss him off. hugs would linger longer than needed, kisses on your cheek would draw closer and closer to your lips, and conversations would consist of enzo leaning down, pretending to be engrossed in whatever you were saying, to the point that you two were practically nose to nose while you giggled about some inside joke that only the two of you understood. and when your boyfriend tries to call him out on this? "i'm sorry, I didn't mean to come between you. i'll back off if it truly makes you feel better. the last thing I want to do is drive a wedge between my best friend and her boyfriend. I know how much she cares about you."

meanwhile, you're just nodding along as enzo flashes those puppy dog eyes, sounding so earnest and sincere. at this point, you're tired of your boyfriend's constant jealousy over enzo. "you see? you’re worried over nothing. enzo and I are just really close and if you can’t accept that, then I don’t know what it means for our relationship.” your boyfriend is just gaping in disbelief because despite all the concrete evidence he has, you still took enzo’s side again and again. “I really don’t want to cause any trouble, honey. we can dial things down if it’ll help make him feel more comfortable.” you shake your head as enzo rubs your back, his soothing touch easing the frustration you felt towards your boyfriend. “no, we shouldn’t have to change our friendship because we aren’t doing anything wrong.” your boyfriend starts to protest, but you hold your hand up to stop him. “enzo and I are a package deal. I guess it’s up to you whether or not you can handle it. i’ll give you time to think about it, but for now, enzo and I will be hanging out. like we usually do. as friends.” enzo nods in agreement, flashing a smug, satisfied grin at your boyfriend as if to say. give up, mate. it’s me. y/n will always choose me.

[just-a-creep-babe]

Liu with a goth girlfriend that's really flirty? Sfw and nsfw if you would please♡

sO rare to get Liu requests so tysm for giving me the chance to write more for him! I also included Sully because I assumed this was a request for the package deal ;0

Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist: x

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

SFW

Honestly, Liu would love himself a goth gf—and I mean, who wouldn’t?

But Sully? Sully would go nuts

Like, Sully would actively push Liu out of the front so that he could be with their goth gf instead

Which, obviously, would come to test Liu’s patience

Like, usually, Liu isn't the jealous type; he trusts his partner unconditionally

But always needing to share them with his alter would inevitably come to grate on his nerves

Especially if he's always getting jostled around the headspace so that Sully can front instead

The two would inevitably end up fighting over who gets to be with their goth gf

And so the best solution would be to work out well-defined boundaries so that things don't get out of hand

From that point on, the occasional bickering might still surface, but things should go relatively smoothly

Other than that, Liu considers himself more of a romantic than a flirt, while Sully’s definitely more of a flirt

So things with Sully are bound to naturally get a bit... steamier faster

But more on that later~

Liu's still always very flattered whenever she flirts with him

He's just a lot more prone to getting flustered about it, which is so damn cute, I swear

It's so fun to tease that boy~

In terms of the whole style thing, personally, Liu's always had more of a basic style preference

He adores his s/o's wardrobe, but he's never considered wearing anything like that himself

While Sully, on the other hand, has always thought their body could use a bit more of a stylistic flair~

So Sully has tried to modify what he wears, but since Liu's the main and original host, he's often stuck with a basic wardrobe anyways

Now, if his goth babe wanted to give him a makeover, however--

Oh, he certainly wouldn't refuse

The two might be able to convince Liu to dress a bit more goth-like on the regular

And, honestly, that doesn't just go for style; their girlfriend would have so much power and influence over both of them

She'd have them wrapped around her little finger like it's nothing

And they wouldn’t have it any other way~

NSFW

Like I mentioned, Sully’s a huge fucking flirt

And to have a very attractive girlfriend who also returns his flirting just as enthusiastically?

Hoo boy—it does things to him

He's not one to back down, so if his s/o doesn't give in either, things are bound to escalate

Especially if she acts kind of bratty in her flirting?

Oh god, it's such a weakness for him

No matter where they are, he will push her into some secluded corner to shut that bratty mouth of hers up

And there's almost nothing he loves more than tearing off all of those pretty black clothes from her body to absolutely ruin her

Liu, on the other hand, isn’t as provocative as his other counterpart

His sex drive isn’t as high, so while he’s usually flattered by the flirting, it doesn’t drive him nuts like it does with Sully

His love-making sessions are usually softer and slower

He'd rather reaffirm his love and dedication to his partner instead of using her for his pleasure

So on that note, he's very sweet and selfless

He'll worship every inch of her, murmuring sweet nothings as he does so, all while holding eye contact and treating her like the dark empress she is~

Even in such an intimate moment, he won't be able to stop himself from getting all flustered and bashful if she keeps flirting and teasing him

If she's more into rougher sex, he'll try to give her what he wants, but he will be hesitant, and he will need reassurance because he really doesn't want to hurt her

And honestly, if ever she really wants to try something he isn't into, he's perfectly fine with letting Sully take control

And Sully will be more than happy to do the dirty work~

With two polar opposites, it's basically impossible for their goth gf to not be fully satisfied with their sex life~

It's a sweet deal for all three of them~

[takusan-no-ai]

You forgot your lunch, babe

PAIRING: Zhu/Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They forgot their lunch, so (Y/N) cooks some for them.

It was early in the morning when Zhu had to leave for work early thanks to a sudden meeting. She couldn’t even give you, her boyfriend, a good morning call because of how late she was; she even almost left the house with her pajamas on!

The meeting went on for hours…so by the end of it Zhu had missed breakfast and almost lunch. Just as she was going to buy something from the cafeteria, she realized that her purse, and so her wallet, were at home. She was about ready to cry.

As for you, well, after not getting an responses to your texts, you knew something was wrong. With your key that Zhu gave to you, you explored her house not just to find out she forgot her necessities, but that she didn’t even grab her brunch!

With your mind made up, you cooked her a meal, and packaged it inside a huge bento box. Getting in your car, you drove to your girlfriend’s work place. After arriving, you saw Zhu hunched over at her desk, stomach growling loudly despite her best efforts to contain it.

You walked over to Zhu, gave her the large packed meal, kissed her on the lips in front of all of her coworkers, and left with a big smile on your face. Zhu’s, however, was bright red as she looked at your fading figure. The sudden smell of delicious food aching her stomach even more.

Qingyi, Seth, Jane, and everyone else didn’t let her leave without an explanation on who the man that smooched her and cooked for her was. She was happy to have a full stomach, but was oh so embarrassed by your theatrics; though she still loves you despite that.

It’s pretty normal for Ellen to sleep in, especially when she doesn’t have work or school. She needed lots of energy saved up for the date she was planning to ask you, her boyfriend, out on. Sadly today wouldn’t be one of those days as an urgent VIP client needed help and Ellen was the only one available.

She had to begrudgingly get up and “rush” out of the door to work. Not one lollipop, not any breaks, and so much physical activity. Ellen was about ready to up and quit Victoria Housekeeping; however, she passed out before that thought could finish. At the very least, most of the commission was done. So the client called her coworkers to take her home.

You didn’t expect to receive any texts today, since it was Ellen’s “break day” as you called it. Rina left you a message, asking you to come and take care of Ellen as they’re all quite busy and can’t risk upsetting their clients.

She also told you Ellen’s stomach kept growling and she was curled up in pain as she slept. Rina would’ve made her something but duty calls, and so you got to cooking a nice meal for your girlfriend, including desserts, and went to Victoria Housekeeping.

When you arrived Ellen was still fast asleep on the couch. That was until you started unpacking the meal for her. She immediately woke up and started munching on the food, a content smile on her face. She was so cute you couldn’t help yourself and kissed her forehead before waving goodbye and leaving.

While Rina was gone, Lycaon and Corin had just returned from a completed commission. The two tried to sneak by and not disturb, but Ellen could sense their stares. She sighed, trying her best to fight the growing blush on her face.

- Fin

[star-dust-stuf]

Fred & George Weasley x period!reader ★

title: sweetheart, little gumdrop

warnings: descriptions and expressions of pain

a/n: I love them so much, I want to do a period comfort because I already know I'm getting mine soon, I'm ready to dieee. sorry for typos, enjoy babes.

-

It was snowing when every student went down to Diagon Alley, and apparently Fred and George had their own store. A lot of students went there and it was such a chaotic shop but looked like so much fun. 

There were so many glowing colors and bright greens and reds, different smells. I walked past the love positions, and towards the candy. The normal kind... 

I look around to see if there was anything I like, a lot of people laughing... And then two familiar voices behind me, looking at me from the steps. 

"Looking for anything particular?" Fred asked.

George spoke, "or something out of the ordinary?" 

I look at them, and smile slightly. I wasn't feeling well and I hope it wasn't obvious, then they'd want to know. "Just chocolate." 

They glanced at each other, Fred smiled and stepped towards me, George behind him. "And why that specifically?" 

"Why do you need to know?" I say, it wasn't really a question, more one of attitude. 

George smirked, "well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, didn't she." 

Fred smiled, "come on. Were only messing with you. You can get anything you like." 

I look to my shoes, there was a look on my face I couldn't hide. One of discomfort, a wrack of pain washed over me and it couldn't be helped. Fred and George glanced at each other and back to me.

"You're alright, love?" George spoke, he got a little closer.

"I'm just..." I couldn't finish, the pain was so much my eyes were watering and I just wanted to fall on the floor right there.

Both Fred and George got to my side and led me up the steps and past the other people, even some of them stared but it wasn't a big deal to them. They got me in a broom cupboard and closed the door, leaving it a jar.

Fred whispered to George, and then Fred left. George kept his hand on my arm gently. "It's-."

George cut me off gently, "we know." 

I just looked at my shoes, embarrassed by the situation. I was cramping up so bad I couldn't stop crying. George gently rubbed my back and waited for Fred to come back, and when he did he had a package.

"Don't worry, It's just chocolate. And I suppose you don't want to walk all the way back to Hogwarts?" Fred spoke softly.

"I can manage." I say, holding the bag of chocolates close. Almost scared they'd melt.

Fred scoffed and George smirked, "come on, sweetheart. You're not walking in your condition, you're already crying." George said, as he poked my cheek softly.

I looked to my shoes, Fred put his hand on my lower back, right where the pain was. "You'll have to go sooner or later." 

"Let one of us walk you. Okay? Then tonight we'll meet you in the common room." George says.

I just agreed, my mind wasn't up for decisions now. Fred walked me back to Hogwarts, it was cold but it felt good on my skin, on top of that, I was tired, not in the mood for much, so when I was in the common room I sat by the fire. Calming myself. 

And finally when it got late enough, the common room was empty as all the students went up to sleep. Fred and George snuck into the common room, not expecting me.

"How do you two even do that, get away with this all the time." I smile a little.

They smiled, "well, not including that map, you're not telling a soul so we can keep doing it." George said with a smirk. 

They both sat beside me on the red couch near the fire. "You haven't touched the chocolate...?" Fred asks. 

"No, sorry." I say, looking into the fire.

Fred and George exchanged glances before scooting closer. "Look, you don't need to be embarrassed about anything." Fred says softly.

"We have a sister, we know how this works. Getting cranky, crampy, and snappy." George smiles. 

Out of the blue, I started to cry from the exact same pain I felt not too long ago, Fred and George looked concerned but calm. Fred stood up, "I can get something from the medical wing."

"You'll get caught, you aren't supposed to be out of the common room so late." I say, tears running down my pink cheeks. 

Fred smiled proudly, "sweetheart, I can do a lot of things you don't know." 

As Fred left, George got me to lie down on the couch, getting me a blanket. He knew the pain was bad, I was crying and that already broke his heart. "Just take a deep breath, it might not help the pain but it'll keep you at ease."

I couldn't help it, I brought my knees up and cried out in pain. He got closer and took a hold of my hand and stroked it gently with his thumb. "Hey.. hey, You're doing beautifully. It might not feel like it, but bloody hell, you are." 

I smile a little as he says that, even if I was in pain. The common room portrait opened, and Fred came back with a hot water bottle. "Took you long enough." George says.

Fred rolled his eyes slightly, "you try getting past Snape. Can you imagine if he found out..." 

Fred smiled a little as he thought, "how embarrassing." He placed the hot water bottle on my stomach, making sure it wasn't too hot.

George stood back up and looked down at me, my eyes closed as I tried to relax. "It's a bad period..." 

Fred nods a little, "we can only wait it out, I guess." 

I look up at them, "don't you two have something useful in that shop of yours?" 

George looked to Fred and back to me. "Nothing for pain, you know- any pain caused by your period." George sighs.

I winced and put my hand on my rib, Fred watched for a second. "Is your chest hurting?"

George elbowed his side. "I'm sure shes- yes I'm sure it hurts." 

"We'll stay with you. You don't have to be alone." George spoke gently. 

"You're not going to spend all night awake." I look up at them. 

"Of course not. You'll fall asleep and so will we." Fred said, crossing his arms. 

"Where will you sleep if you won't go to your dormitory?" 

"The floor." They say in sync. 

I had to sigh, "you cant be serious." 

They both smiled to each other. "Never." They say again in sync. 

They both got comfortable on the floor, pulling a blanket or two off the couch and the chair near the portrait, I was in disbelief... But it was them, so what more do I expect. They weren't light sleepers at all. If is stir or make any hints I was in pain theyd be up.

They didn't want me to be alone at all, they'd just talk and tell jokes to help me. And it did, I loved their empathy, it made me feel safe and that I was okay. 

When the pain got too bad George started rubbing my stomach to see if it would cause relief. And when it did he didn't stop doing it, taking turns with his brother before I fell asleep... And them after me. Fred's hand rested in mine as he drifted to sleep, as George's hand rests on my leg. 

[separatetheyolk]

The Timeline Of Coming Out | Carlos Sainz X Trans!Reader

ʚɞ part one

ʚɞ featuring: Carlos Sainz

ʚɞ You come out as transgender to your boyfriend and navigate your transition together

ʚɞ notes: I'm deciding not to do bottom surgery in this because 1, im not educated enough (despite being a trans guy) and 2, its much less common then top surgery. Reader will be going on testosterone, top surgery adnall the things that come with a social transition. This is going to be very heavy on the affects of being transgender, highs and lows. That includes lows of depression, considerations of self harm and suicidal ideation, transphobia, but also highs like transiton accomplishments.

ʚɞ It is impossible for me to put trigger warnings on everything in this so it is a heavy read at your own risk. If you are easily triggered whether dysphoria, mental health or both, I suggest skipping this one <3

ʚɞ I can tell you though that theres a google translate warning lol

READ TAGS

You grsbbed the small package on the floor by the front door, swallowing thickly. "Babe? Is that the post?" Carlos called from the kitchen. "Anything for me?" You grabbed the letters still stuck in the letter box, slowly walking to Carlos with your eyes still fixed to the grey package in your hand. You set the letters down in the counter, assuming it would all be for him or just junk. "Gracias guapo.." Carlos murmered, picking up one of the letters and began to tear into it.

He got half way through the contents of the letter when he'd realised he hadn't actually gotten a response from you, looking around the room and spotted that you'd migrated to the sofa. "Baby? Everything alright?" He asked, picking up the letters and began to move over to you.

He dropped them onto the coffee table, looking to your hands and spotting the parcel easily. "Ah, here already?" He asked, moving to sit beside you.

"I don't know why I'm hesitating.." You whispered. "I shoud be happy, right? Why is part of me still saying this is wrong?" You paused, feeling Carlos wrap an arm around you and gently directed you to his side.

"Let me see.." He murmered as he took the package, tearing it open with ease and pulled out the white fabric. Unfolding it so it would take the shape of your binder. He set it on the coffee table beside forgotten letters, smoothing out any creases from the clothing. "It can stay here until you're ready. This is at your pace.."

The following few days the binder caught your eye as you'd walked past it. The third day, you couldn't take your eyes off it. The fourth, haircut day, you'd grabbed it from the table rather quickly and headed back upstairs to your bedroom. "Could.. You help me put it on?" You spoke from the doorway, looking to Carlos still lying in bed.

He looked up from the book he'd been lost in when you spoke up, turning to you holding up the binder. "Of course I can, mi amor.." His voice was soft, gentle. He slipped out of bed, slid on some shorts and made his way over to you. Carefully, he took the binder from you, letting you pull the oversized hoodie over your head. You kept your back to him, taking the binder back so you could slip it on part way. You felt the man press kisses to your shoulder, neck and back for a few moments before he pulled away, pressing one lass kiss to the back of your head. Then, let you start to put on the binder. You managed to get it over your head, Caros reaching around to your front and pulled the fabric down so your hands weren't stuck in the air, then brought his hands around your back and evened it out there too.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you for a moment. The two of you standing in silence with no need to talk. Kisses still being left wherever Carlos could reach. After about thirty seconds, he slowly let you go. "Go see if you like it then, handsome." You heard, nodding slowly in response and grabbed one of his shirts from the wardrobe as you went. You made your way to the en-suite, Looking to yourself in the mirror while Carlos stood in the doorway. Slowly, you turned to your side, mood dropping when you saw the bump of your chest still. You knew that it all had to go somewhere. But there was still a dilusional side that had thought you'd be completely flat.

Carlos, your ever attentive boyfriend spotted the sag in your shoulders, shaking his head. "Put on the shirt, mi amor." He spoke, standing upright away from the doorframe. You looked to the shirt, sighing softly. It couldn't look any worse, surely. You pulled the clothing over your head, ever so slightly too big, strap if your binder showing, but it looked better. Instantly better. The part of the binder that stuck out away from yor ribs around the bottom held the shirt away from your chest a little allowing it to taper down and caused the curve on your chest to be less noticeable.

Carlos rose an eyebrow, waiting for any response but you just.. Stared at yourself. "Well?"

"It's.. Amazing." you whispered, smile growing as you spoke.

You stood from the barbers chair. Doing one last checkover in the mirror. You'd mostly kept a straight face thoughout the cut. Watching as the length of your hair fell to the floor. The more that was cut, the more strange it felt. Your head was unbelievably lighter, the breeze down your neck was causing shivers and twitches every so often, everything sounded so much clearer without hair covering your ears.

You done one last check in the mirror, hand running through your fringe, a small smile now on your face. It looked strange, would take some getting used to. But it felt right. Still, part of you couldn't decide if you liked that feeling. You thanked the man as you walked around the corner and to the waiting room.

Carlos looked up to his phone when he heard footsteps coming around the corner. Looking to see you, short hair and all, grin spreading on his face which in turn, caused that small smile on your own to widen. You walked over to him, slight shuffle in your step and a blush spreading on the tips of your ears as you pressed your face into his chest. Carlos set his hand against the the back of your head, the touch felt weird with te shaved back but again, felt right. "You like it?" You mumbled to him, feeling a kiss press to the top of your head.

"I love it.." He muttered, holding his card to the reader to pay for the cut. Both of you leaving after a second appointment had been booked. "How about we grab a bite to eat? We hardly ever eat out." He hummed, looking to you as he wrapped an arm arond your waist.

"Sure, where were you thinking?"

You followed Carlos though busy streets, holding his hand tightly as you'd dodge strangers. Trying your best to keep out of their way and more importantly keep out of cameras. He hummed softly, leading you down a cobbled street and into a small cafe, cute and cosy. Lights strung up in rafters, dark wooden booths, tables and chairs. "The usual?" He asked, looking down to you then nodded it to the side to getsture to the till.

"Please. I'll go find us a seat." You spoke softly, stealing a quick kiss from him before leaving his side. You walked further into the cafe, stopping abruptly when a man pushed out his chair to stand.

"Lo siento señor" He apologised, you'd done a double take behind you thinking Carlos must have followed behind you. Finding him still at the till ordering. He'd called you sir? You felt happiness creap into your chest, giving the man a smile and nod as you made your way past him. He'd called you sir.

You managed to find a booth easily enough, slipping inside and lent on the table with a smile. A stranger had called you sir. "What's got you so happy?" Carlos asked as he sat down, causing you to jump ever so slightly. You waited for him to shuffle further inside, taking one of your hands across the table.

"Someone called me sir."

Weeks continued as normal after that. Though you had mostly kept yourself inside the house. You hadn't come out yet, to anyone. Not your parents, or friends, not anyone on the grid and certainly not online. Still grappling with what being trans meant for you, what you wanted, what you didn't, trying to put yourself in situatuons such as transphobia, how it would affect you. How it would affect you if someone you loved didn't support you. You didn't want to be spotted or outed before you wanted to out yourself.

Right now? You were grappling with the idea of getting out of bed. Today was supposed to be productive. Carlos was on his usual bike ride, he'd get back, have his shower and you'd both clean up the house. But the idea if your body being on display made you want to claw your way out of your skin. Even if it was just Carlos that saw you. It was strange, ever since aknowledging your trans identity, the dysphoria had dialed up to eleven. Your body was ultimately nothing new to you or Carlos, nothing either of you hadn't seen before. But regardless, you wanted nothing more than to keep it hidden.

Carlos came home about two hours later, bike left in the hallway as usual, helmate left on the sofa, shoes toed off and left at the door. "Baby?" Carlos called, looking around the ground floor for you first. When he came up short, he moved upstairs. Checking the bedroom first. There you were, lying in bed still, blankets pulled to your face and a quiet sniffle coming from the pile.

"Mi amor?" Carlos moved into the room slowly, leaning on the bed with a closed fist first. "Guapo?" He muttered, pushing the blanket down to spot you, clearly you'd been crying. Eyes red and puffy, face wet and a damp spot on the duvet. "Oh mi amor.." He whispered, carefully bundling you up in the duvet as he picked you up. Taking your spot on the bed and set you down in his lap. Somehow, even unknowingly, Carlos done exactly what you needed. Holding you, while keeping your body hidden and under wraps. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The question brought everything back up to the surface you'd only just supressed ten minutes prior, a new wave of tears smothering you without warning causing you to break down into uncontrolable and ugly sobs. You moved to hold onto him, not caring for the sweat, grime and dirt. One hand wrapped around his back and gripping the fabric at the back of his spandex, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and your other arm coming over his right shoulder and holding onto the fabric of his left.

"Oh- okay alright.." He murmered, wrapping his arms around your own frame in a tight hug. "Okay.. You're okay baby.. I got you.." You felt as Carlos ran a hand to your neck, massaging it gently in a soothing motion. He let you have your cry. Ugly and messy, skin red puffy, capillaries broken, eyes bloodshot and glossy, cheeks soaked and hair a mess.

Once you'd calmed down some, that taking about half an hour, Carlos directed you away from his neck, hands leaving your back and cupped your cheeks instead. Hos thumbs glided over them, drying your cheeks gently as he placed a kiss to your forehead. "Please talk." He mumbled against your skin. Once your cheeks had dried off, he allowed you to cuddle back up. This time, your arms wrapped around his waist and leaning into his chest. Carlos shuffling further down in the bed.

"I hate myself.." You murmered. Before Carlos could ask why, you continued to speak. "I hate myself for allowing me to explore this, I hate myself for not ever being happy if i didn't, I hate myself for the body i've got. I hate myself for just not being grateful that I'm even alive, I hate myself for putting you through all of this, I hate myself for just.. hating everything about myself."

Carlos frowned at that, hand running through greasy hair without a care for it. "I read that can be normal while you.." He paused, trying to figure out what word it was he was looking for in English. "Adjust.. You might know who you are, but it's a big change for you too. Learning to accept who you are while also knowing others will too is hard. Everything will change in how you're.. Percibido. What's the word- perceived. Some of it will be good, some will be bad. You can't control what people will think but you can control how it will affect you." He heard you sniffle, nodding agaist his chest. He sighed softly, looking down to you. "Would you prefer to keep busy today or just cuddle?"

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. "I'm really tired.." You confessed, removing one hand from around Carlos and pulled the duvet further up so it was half way up your face. Trying to cozy yourself up.

"Cuddles for you it is, mi amor."

[yournightmary]

Streamer!Ellie HCs | part II

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU

AN:: I’m really bored but don’t have any motivation for writing:( Hope you like it babes xx

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who started posting stream VODs on her youtube and blew up even more. There were funny clips of her all over tik tok, I mean literally- all over, even people that never interacted with anything similar had them in their for you pages.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who had to deal with people saying ‘you aren’t right for her’ and that you’re dating her just for clout. You dated before she even started streaming but whatever, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who as a joke made a donation goal named ‘for my and my girl’s house’ and people actually donated tons of money. She felt bad and donated most of it to charity.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who starts screaming into the phone that she’s streaming and to not say anything stupid every time someone calls her on stream, too lazy to mute her mic.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who loves to get invited to all those silly little podcasts, especially if the hosts let her bring you with her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who opened a PR box and forgot about it. Had like 3 streams in a row that lasted multiple hours opening all of those packages, including eating expired snacks and getting glitter bombed.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who became a lot more family friendly after she almost got perma banned. Still keeps the same vibe but cut down on the swearing and getting hurt for laughs.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who used that change to get more into fundraiser streams. (thinking about Lil Simsie and St. Jude)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who started doing actual youtube videos after some of her content creator friends convinced her to do so. You’re her favorite guest on her channel.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I think she’d keep her twitch more gaming related and make her youtube more irl/vlogs kind of thing. Something like Jake Webber and Johnnie Guilbert but it’s Ellie and you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who started getting so much partner and sponsorships you guys decided to move to a bigger place, maybe even an actual house. Not only did she get to use her money on something actually important but also got more space for all of her things.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who would never take a sponsorship from a brand she didn’t like. Or an add for a product that was shitty. Probably even hated on some brands while streaming, she’s an honest girlie.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who takes you on every trip she’s invited to.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who after some time started worrying that she’s not giving you enough attention, focusing too much on her career. Takes a short break (maybe 1-2 weeks) every time it’s too much for her to think about.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who is constantly begged to make a house reveal. She always denies because she’s too scared someone will recognize the building and doxx/stalk you or her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who got addicted to shitposting on tik tok. I talking, 5-10 tik toks a day. Things like this and this.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who actually married you. Wasn’t really planned, she just woke up one day and took you guys to the courthouse. (i don’t know how american marriages work, sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who also didn’t tell anyone but her closest friends about it. And one day, like half a year later, she was just like ‘oh yeah we’re legally married’ and showed off her fancy ring.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who LOVES to call you ‘her wife’. Probably did it before you even got married, but shhh.

I need a girlfriend so bad it’s pathetic.

[almostfoxglove]

You come home and see that babe got you a present. What's in the box?

main masterlist | get notifs

Never, ever anything good.

Sure, Max tries. He really does. He presents any gift with the kind of gleeful pride that takes over the whole of his face, hands clasped formally behind his back while he hums with anticipation. Any speed at which you unwrap the offering is too fucking slow and often results in him shredding the package to tatters, too impatient to wait any longer for your reaction. Fuck the paper, anyway. He knows you aren't saving that shit.

Bless his heart, he always believes that this time, he's finally got it right.

You know better: that is never the case.

Some past (and failed) gifts include:

office supplies, the boring kind (paperclips, binder clips, tape dispenser refills) — "I know you don't work at an office, baby, but it's important to dream big!"

jewelry, which you like until you learn he stole it from your neighbor while they were sleeping — "It looks better on you, baby."

jewelry which was not stolen from your neighbor, but after some interrogating Max buckles and admits that he may have, maybe committed some light grave robbing — "But it's not like they're using it anymore, it's a victimless crime!"

a racoon. a squirrel? You've blocked out the memory as much as you can, but it was wild, maybe rabid, and definitely in your fucking apartment. He trapped it in the alley behind your apartment the night before, and it had peed in this cardboard box at least once. — "You said you wanted a pet, and this thing was just wandering around. I didn't even steal it! Well, fuck, baby. How the hell was I supposed to know you wanted a dog? Isn't this the same? It slobbers, shits. It's fluffy. But fine, fine—I'm the asshole. I'll release it, okay? Settle down." [...] "Can I borrow your oven mitts?"