#and I know that like your partner is supposed to be there for you through the hood and bad

[paxtito]

grey sweatpants

parings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 4048

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v

summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it

a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.

“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.

“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”

“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”

She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.

“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.

“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”

She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”

“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…” Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.

You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”

You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”

She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”

You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.

“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.

Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”

You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.

Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.

Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.

But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.

Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”

Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"

She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.

"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”

You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.

"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."

She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.

"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.

Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.

As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.

"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."

"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."

As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.

"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."

You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.

"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”

As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”

Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."

Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.

"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."

You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.

When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.

"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."

You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.

"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."

You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.

"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."

You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.

Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."

She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.

Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."

You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.

Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.

"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."

Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.

Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.

You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.

Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.

"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.

"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."

Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."

She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."

You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.

"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."

You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.

Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."

You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."

You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.

But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.

Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."

Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.

"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."

You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.

Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.

Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.

"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."

You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."

Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.

"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."

You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."

With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.

As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."

You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.

As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.

"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"

You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.

"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."

Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."

A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."

You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.

Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.

You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.

"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."

You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"

Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.

The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.

"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.

Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.

"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."

You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.

"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.

Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.

"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.

Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.

Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.

"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.

Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x reader, but they both worked in the IPC together, until Reader faked their death to escape it. Aventurine kinda loses himself for a bit, but is sent on another planetary mission (idk what ipc assignments are called 😔) he notices one of the citizens looks a bit too much like a previous friend

Reader realizes Aventurine found them, and feeling too scared to face him after never saying goodbye, warning or anything, they run off to a secluded area aven follows them to, and boom we get angsty argument, bittersweet love confession, and happy or sad ending up to u!!

i hope this made sense

The Gamble of Lost Hearts | Part 1

Summary: After faking your death to escape the IPC and live a quiet life, You encounters Aventurine years later on a remote planet. Desperate to avoid facing him after leaving without a word, You run, but Aventurine tracks you down to demand answers.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, angst, reunion, faked death, confrontation, bittersweet, passionate kiss, unresolved feelings, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Warnings: Intense emotions, mention of grief and faked death, brief argument, bittersweet themes, kissing.

A/N: Thank for the request, Anon! Of course it made sense and I hope you like it!! I decided to go for a happy ending but lmk if you want a sad ending too 😇🤭

(Part 2)

The tall silhouette of the IPC headquarters still felt like a ghostly shadow looming over you, even on this remote planet. You'd spent years running from it, from him, leaving behind everything you knew to escape the endless cycles of high-stakes deals and veiled dangers. Faking your death was your only way out. A drastic choice, but one that had kept you free.

For the most part, it had worked. You’d blended into a quiet, new life here, far from the frenetic energy and luxurious intrigue of IPC. But today was different. A mission had arrived from IPC. You hadn’t realized who would be leading it—hadn’t dared to imagine he would come to this far-flung place.

And yet, here you were, ducking down behind market stalls, holding your breath every time he brushed past. His sandy-blond hair, elegant stance, and that gambler’s grin that still haunted your memories—it was all here. And with him came a flood of feelings you'd kept buried for years.

Somewhere along the winding paths of this new city, you’d slipped. He'd caught sight of you, and that glimmer in his eyes told you he knew.

You didn’t waste time running. You veered down alleyways, taking shortcuts and dodging through side streets, ignoring the heart pounding in your chest. The cliffside path outside the city led to a hidden grove where you’d often retreat to watch the waves crash far below. Maybe there, he would lose your trail.

But there was no outrunning someone like him.

“Quite the bold tactic—faking your own death,” His smooth voice sounded just as you remembered, laced with that same easy charm but edged with something new—something raw. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

You took a breath before facing him, his piercing gaze pinning you down as soon as you met his eyes. He stood mere steps away, looking as striking as ever, the faint roulette motif on his overcoat catching the last of the setting sun.

“Aventurine, I…” The words failed you. How could you explain years of silence? Of leaving him to mourn?

“I grieved you, you know.” His voice was soft, nearly breaking. “I searched, hoping it was all some misstep. Until the day I accepted you were…gone.”

The ache in his words stung worse than you’d anticipated. “I didn’t have a choice...” you whispered, but your words sounded feeble, empty even to yourself.

“No choice?” Aventurine scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. “We were supposed to be partners, weren’t we? You could have trusted me.” He took a step forward, anger blazing in his eyes. “But instead, you turned me into a fool. For years, I mourned a ghost while you built this quiet little life on the fringes.”

“You don’t understand,” you argued, feeling that familiar pang in your chest. “It wasn’t just about leaving IPC. I couldn’t… If I stayed, I would’ve lost myself. That place…it consumed everything.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Aventurine’s voice softened, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face, a tender gesture that held the weight of all the things left unsaid between you. “Do you think I didn’t want to leave with you?”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his words. The idea of Aventurine—the gambler, the thrill-seeker—longing to escape had never crossed your mind. But here he was, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness that mirrored your own.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the sincerity in your voice mixing with the regret that had gnawed at you all these years. “But I couldn’t drag you down with me.”

“You didn’t give me the choice.” he whispered, voice barely above a murmur. His eyes searched yours, desperate to find a reason, a justification that could somehow absolve the pain he’d carried all this time. And then, with a hint of frustration, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. It wasn’t gentle—it was raw, full of the emotions he’d held back, the years he’d spent believing you were lost.

The kiss stole the words from your mouth, every excuse, every apology dissolving in the intensity of that single, electric moment.

When he pulled back, his hand still lingered at the side of your face, thumb tracing the faint line of your jaw as he gazed at you with a newfound resolve. “If you run again, I’m coming with you.” he murmured, his voice steadier now.

You met his gaze, realizing he meant it. There would be no more running, no more hiding. Aventurine wouldn’t let you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised softly, the weight of your words sinking between you both. “Not without you.”

A flicker of a smile returned to his lips, tempered by the hurt that had yet to fully heal but brightened by the glimmer of hope that you could finally face whatever came next—together.

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 3

part 1 part 2

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 6122

author's note: english is not my first language, penultimate part

tags: @ferakillia @bunnies-p1tst0p @maluzets55

Determined to work things out, you called Lando and asked to speak in person. Even though deep down you already knew it would be a difficult and probably painful conversation, you also knew you couldn’t keep running away from your problems. Lando agreed to meet you at the hotel cafeteria, though his tone on the phone sounded tense and distant.

As you got ready, your stomach was turning. You thought back to the pictures and messages you’d received, the missed calls Lando had made to you after being discovered, and everything that had happened between you and Max. You took a breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, wanting to feel safe, and walked out to Lando’s hotel.

When you got to the cafeteria, you found him already waiting for you at a table in the back. He had a stiff posture, his hands folded in front of him on the table and his gaze fixed on the coffee in front of him. His eyes lifted slightly when he saw you arrive, and you noticed the mix of discomfort and guilt he was trying to hide under a calm facade.

You sat in silence, watching him carefully. After a few seconds, he broke the silence.

“Look, I don’t want… this conversation to get out of hand,” Lando began, his voice wavering. “I know you’re upset, and I’m clear on why. I just want you to know that… it wasn’t what it seemed.”

You looked at him, eyes narrowing. His words sounded forced, as if he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying. It hurt you to see him like this, so changed, so full of insecurity.

“It wasn’t what it seemed, Lando?” you asked, keeping your tone firm. “I saw the photos. Everyone has seen them.”

He frowned, clearly upset.

“You don’t have to make this any harder,” he replied in a defensive tone. “It was a mistake. I was just… I needed to distract myself.” But that doesn't change how I feel about you.

A mixture of anger and disappointment ran through you. You had expected a sincere apology, something more than excuses and empty promises. You tried to remain calm, but your words came out with the coldness of truth.

"How I feel has changed too, Lando," you said quietly. "All of this... I don't know if it makes sense."

Lando lowered his gaze, but you noticed that he still maintained that defensive air. It was clear that he wasn't fully assuming his responsibility; he didn't seem willing to face the consequences of his decisions.

"So this is it?" he asked in a bitter tone. "For a mistake? You weren't even there to support me like you always do. And what was I supposed to do?" His words sounded reproachful, as if he were trying to transfer part of the blame to you.

You bit your lip, holding back your fury. You knew it had been difficult for him not to have you around, but that didn't justify his attitude. Finally, you gathered your courage and faced the issue once and for all.

“This isn’t just about what happened, Lando. There’s something bigger going on here,” you told him firmly. “I need some time to think, to get clear on what I really want. I can’t stay in a relationship where I constantly have to worry about whether or not you’ll do the right thing when I’m gone.”

He gulped, and for a moment, you saw a flash of genuine pain in his eyes. But instead of acknowledging the problem, he chose to back away once again.

“Do what you want then,” he said, letting out a frustrated sigh and looking away. “If you need time, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

Those words were confirmation of everything you had felt during this last stage of your relationship. Without further ado, you stood up, leaving one last glance at the one you had considered your partner for so long. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and then you turned around and walked out of the coffee shop without looking back.

As you walked away, you felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. You had hoped that this conversation would bring you some sort of peace, a reconciliation, or at least a heartfelt explanation. But instead, it only confirmed what you already feared: perhaps it was time to put an end to it.

Back in your hotel room, you took a seat on the bed and looked around, trying to process everything that had happened. The room was silent, and the weight of your decision began to settle in, bringing with it a wave of conflicting emotions. You pulled out your phone and, almost without thinking, opened the message Max had sent you hours ago, wondering how your conversation with Lando had gone.

Without much hesitation, you wrote him a short reply.

You: “We just talked… and I think I need some time to sort out my feelings.”

After a few minutes, the phone vibrated. Max had replied:

Max: “Do whatever you need. Just remember that if you decide to move on, I’m here for you. You don’t have to face it alone.”

Reading his words, you felt a small spark of calm, as if the weight of everything that had happened had lightened a little. You knew that this time away would be necessary to understand what it was that you really wanted, but there was one thing clear in all of this: you needed to feel authentic again, without the shadows of a relationship that had begun to consume more than it offered.

Even though you wanted to take some time off, the last race of the year was being held in Abu Dhabi, and you had to attend. For you, the trip had a professional purpose: the promotion of Rolex. Despite having distanced yourself from Lando and having spent a few days trying to find clarity about your feelings, you knew that this race would also be the closing of an intense and emotional season.

Dressed elegantly, you wore a shiny Rolex watch that caught the light with every movement. As you walked through the paddock, you felt the gazes of some acquaintances and other members of the industry; everyone knew that you had been a constant figure in Lando's team, and now it seemed strange to see you in an independent context.

While you were fulfilling your promotional tasks, you crossed paths with Max. He wore his usual determined expression, but this time there was something different in his gaze. When he saw you, his eyes lit up slightly, as if something in him had made up his mind. You noticed that, despite the crowd, his steps were heading straight towards you, with a confidence that made your pulse race.

"Hey," he said, smiling slightly. "I didn't think I'd find you here so early. How have you been?" His tone was warm, close, something different from the previous times.

“I'm… fine, I guess” you answered, trying to sound casual, although the closeness made you feel a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “I had to be here for Rolex. You know what this sponsorship thing is like.”

He nodded, and for a moment they remained silent, watching the hustle and bustle of preparations around them.

“I know things have been complicated for you lately” Max said, with a more serious tone than usual. “And I don't want to seem nosy, but… I haven't stopped thinking about what we talked about last time.”

The sincerity in his words threw you off a little. You had tried to stay distant, focus on yourself, and not think about everything you had experienced. But there was Max, with his penetrating gaze and his usual confidence, willing to open up in a way that you hadn't seen in him until now.

“I'm not here to pressure you” he continued, looking into your eyes. “I just wanted you to know that… I’m willing to fight for you, if you just give me a chance.”

His confession resonated with you, breaking the barrier you had built up over the past few weeks. You felt like it wasn’t just a passing statement; there was a depth to his words that made you doubt everything you had tried to rationalize. Deep down, something in you had been waiting to hear this, though you refused to admit it.

“Max…” you began, not knowing exactly how to express what you felt. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure that getting more involved is the best thing for either of us.”

He nodded, listening to each word patiently.

“I know,” he replied. “But there’s something I’ve learned this season, and that is that important opportunities aren’t always the easiest ones. I’ve been avoiding speaking clearly to you because I didn’t want to make things more complicated for you. But if I’m honest, I can’t pretend that I don’t care about you.”

The seriousness in his eyes left you speechless. He wasn’t the usual Max, arrogant and competitive; he was someone vulnerable, showing a part of him that was rarely seen. And although a part of you wanted to keep putting up barriers, another, deeper part of you was starting to give in to his words and his sincerity.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What happened with Lando was difficult… and I don’t want you to be just a distraction, Max.” It wouldn't be fair to either of you.

He took a step closer, not invading your personal space, but enough for you to feel his presence more intensely.

"I'm not someone who'll settle for being a distraction," he said with a slight smile, but his tone was firm. "What I feel for you is real. And if you give me the chance, I'm willing to show you that I'm someone you can trust."

His words enveloped you, making you feel a warmth and security that you hadn't experienced in a long time. The hardness of the breakup with Lando was still present, but Max's presence offered you an alternative, a chance to rediscover what you really wanted and, perhaps, to be happy in a fuller sense.

After a few seconds of silence, you took a breath, letting your own emotions take control.

"I don't know what will happen after all this..." you murmured, looking at the floor for a moment before looking up and meeting his gaze. "But I think I'm willing to see where this takes us."

The smile on his face was almost imperceptible, but his eyes shone with a mix of determination and tenderness.

“Then I’ll start showing it from now on,” he said, taking your hand gently. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter how long it takes.”

After that brief exchange with Max, he said goodbye with a wink and walked away, leaving behind a feeling of anticipation that you couldn’t shake. You watched as he walked towards the Red Bull paddock, surrounded by his team, while you stood still for a moment, trying to clear your thoughts.

You decided it was time to move as well. You walked through the paddock area, the hustle and bustle around you. Drivers, engineers and journalists came and went, all focused on their own roles.

Suddenly, you saw him. Lando was up ahead, briefly chatting with one of the McLaren mechanics. He turned slightly, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. It was an instant, there was no smile, no nod of recognition, just eye contact that spoke of everything beneath the surface. He seemed distant, almost cold, and before you could say anything, he looked away and kept walking.

You stood still, feeling a knot form in your stomach. That small gesture, or lack thereof, hit you harder than you expected. You knew Lando was in his zone of concentration, but you couldn’t ignore the growing emotional distance that seemed to exist between you since you arrived in Qatar.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to keep walking, telling yourself that you couldn’t read too much into a simple glance. But the awkwardness remained.

As you left the paddock area you went straight to the VIP area to watch the race. The race was certainly a spectacle from the start. Max started from pole, while Lando started from second position.

From the first lap, Max took the lead, controlling the pace with ruthless precision. Behind him, Lando followed closely, pushing at every opportunity. But as the laps progressed, it became clear that Red Bull had fine-tuned their car to perfection. Max seemed untouchable.

Lando, however, was not giving up. He kept fighting, looking for every millimetre of advantage, every opportunity to close the gap. Until lap 38 came around. It all happened in the blink of an eye. In the fast corner before the main straight, Lando's car lost grip. Perhaps a miscalculation or just bad luck, but the McLaren hit the wall with a sharp impact. The yellow flag waved immediately, and your heart skipped a beat.

From your spot, your eyes were fixed on the giant screen, watching anxiously. Lando got out of the car quickly, waving his hands to indicate that he was okay, but you could see the frustration in his every move. He was furious.

As the McLaren team scrambled to pick up the remains of the car, the race continued. Max continued to dominate, and with each lap, his victory became more inevitable. Finally, he crossed the finish line in first place, securing the race win. Fireworks lit up the sky, and the Red Bull team erupted in celebrations.

When it was all over, you headed towards the McLaren paddock, where you saw him surrounded by his team, his face grim and his brow furrowed. There was no trace of the carefree smile he normally wore.

As he spoke to his engineers, you locked eyes with him for a brief second. He looked exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally. But he didn't say anything, and neither did you. Without exchanging words, you turned around and began walking towards the exit.

The day had been intense, and you needed time to process it all. You took a cab back to your hotel, watching the city lights flicker through the window as you sank into your thoughts. Lando was fine physically, and that was the most important thing.

Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and dropped into bed. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions: worry about Lando, what you had talked about with Max, and a growing confusion within yourself. You picked up your phone and left it on the nightstand. You didn't know whether to expect a text from Lando or Max. Or maybe neither.

You sighed and closed your eyes.

You had barely laid down when the glow of your phone illuminated the darkness of the room. For a moment, you thought it might be Lando, perhaps to talk about what happened at the race, but when you saw Max’s name on the screen, your heart skipped a little.

Max: “I hope you’re okay after all the drama today. Listen, I was thinking… I’m going home to Monaco to rest before the next season. How about you come with me? It’d be great to have you here.”

The message was direct and blunt, typical of Max. You stared at the screen, your fingers trembling slightly on the keyboard. The proposal took you by surprise, but at the same time, there was a part of you that had anticipated it.

You knew that accepting that invitation would involve much more than a simple vacation. It wasn't just the getaway to Monaco, it was everything that it meant: getting away from Lando once and for all from your own doubts, and facing the growing attraction you felt for Max.

You bit your lip, thinking of all the possible consequences. But then, your fingers began to move almost of their own volition.

You: "I don't know if it's a good idea, Max. This is all complicated."

It wasn't long before he responded.

Max: “Complicated? Maybe. But sometimes the complicated is the most exciting. You don't have to decide now. Think about it. I promise it will be an unforgettable trip."

You closed your eyes, trying to calm your heartbeat. The silence of the room surrounded you, but your thoughts were chaos. You could imagine Max in his suite, confident and relaxed, waiting for your answer as if he already knew what it would be.

Several hours passed, with the conversation on hold. Finally, you found yourself typing something you didn't think would come out of you.

You: "Okay. I'll go. But only because I need a break, and Monaco sounds like a good place to clear my mind."

His reply came almost instantly.

Max: "Yeah, sure, just for that, but perfect. You won't regret it. Let me know when you get there and I'll take care of everything.”

You stared at your phone after reading those words, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had made a decision that could change everything, and while a part of you was scared, another couldn't wait to see what that vacation would bring.

The day of your flight to Monaco came faster than you expected. You had been tossing and turning in bed all night, thinking about what this new stage meant. Max had been clear in his invitation, and although you were hesitant at first, you couldn't help but feel excited about the trip. What started as a simple getaway to relax had turned into an opportunity to get to know a different side of Max. A side that until now you had only seen from afar.

You took an early morning flight, without looking back. As the plane flew through the sky, you immersed yourself in thoughts about everything you had left behind.

You arrived in Monaco around afternoon, and the airport was full of tourists, celebrities, and important figures. The warm, salty Mediterranean air mixed with the hustle and bustle of the people, and you could feel the vibrant energy emanating from the city streets.

You picked up your suitcase and quickly headed to the car Max had arranged for you. You knew you couldn't miss a second of this glamorous city, and you felt a little nervous. What did Max expect from you? How would all this change after a few days in his company?

The car drove through the narrow, elegant streets of Monaco, passing by the famous casinos, luxury yachts, and hills overlooking the sea. The scenery was stunning, as always, but even more impressive was what you felt when you thought of Max waiting for you.

When you arrived at Max's residence, a luxurious apartment overlooking the port, a butler greeted you with a smile and led you to the door. The suite was everything you had imagined: modern, spacious, and with a stunning view of the sea and yachts. The decor was elegant but warm, with touches of wood and soft colors. It wasn't just any place; it was a place designed for someone like him, someone accustomed to perfection.

You left your suitcase on the bed and looked at the clock. You knew Max had to be nearby. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the door open. You turned around and there he was, Max, with his characteristic air of confidence, but with something different in his gaze. It was as if, for a moment, everything was just for the two of them.

"Do you like the place?" he asked, approaching with a smile on his face.

“It’s… amazing,” I replied, looking around, trying to hide how nervous I felt.

Max took a step towards you, his gaze locked on yours, and although he seemed relaxed, there was something about his posture that gave away his interest. There was a spark in his eyes, something that made your heart beat a little faster. He moved even closer, and before you could react, his hands rested on your waist.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come, but I’m glad you agreed,” he said quietly, almost as if he was reading your thoughts.

You were in the heart of Monaco, and although the surroundings were luxurious and surrounded by powerful people, all that really mattered at that moment was the silent connection you shared with Max.

“What do we do now?” you asked, the nervousness starting to dissipate a little.

“Whatever you want,” Max replied, with a mischievous smile. “But, if you ask me, I think we could start with dinner.”

Before you could say anything else, he took you by the hand and led you through the apartment, into the open kitchen.

Max’s kitchen was just as modern as the rest of the place, with white marble surfaces that reflected the warm light from the lamps. Max began pulling fresh ingredients out of the fridge, inviting you to join him without thinking twice. At first, you were hesitant, but something in his eyes invited you to stay.

“Do you know how to cook?” you asked as you watched him pull out tomatoes, basil, and olive oil.

Max smiled mischievously, a glint in his blue eyes. “I know a little. But only if you don’t mind getting your hands a little dirty.”

You laughed at the idea. “I’m not a chef, but I can try.”

And so, between laughs and small jokes, they began to prepare dinner together. Max had decided to make fresh pasta with homemade pesto, one of his favorite dishes. While he was busy with the pasta, you took care of the salad, chopping vegetables and arranging the ingredients carefully. It was a simple, but shared moment, and the dynamic between the two of you felt natural, as if you had been doing this for years.

As the preparation progressed, the distance between you disappeared. Max gently guided you, giving you instructions on how to handle the ingredients, his hands sometimes brushing yours as you passed utensils or adjusted something in the pot. The conversation flowed easily, and you realized that, without thinking about it, you felt more comfortable with him than you had ever imagined.

When the pasta was ready, Max served it elegantly on two large plates, and together you sat at the table, enjoying the view offered by the balcony as the sun began to set behind the hills. The golden light illuminated the room and reflected off the glass, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The table was well set, but the conversation and proximity made everything seem much more intimate than it actually was.

“This is amazing,” you said, taking a bite of the pasta and nodding. “You surprise me.”

Max smiled, with a hint of pride. “I told you, I knew you’d appreciate it.”

The evening continued with laughter and anecdotes, talking about other things, about travel and what you liked to do in your free time. Max seemed genuinely interested in you, in your opinions, in what you thought about the small details of life. There was something so real and accessible about him at that moment, that you completely forgot the fact that, hours before, you had arrived in Monaco with a host of mixed emotions. Now, all that mattered was the present moment.

At the end of dinner, as the plates were empty and the wine glasses were slowly emptying, Max leaned slightly towards you, his gaze locked on yours. The room was quiet, the sound of the distant city, and for a second, it seemed like there were only the two of you left, sharing that space.

“You know?” he said, his voice soft, “I think this has been much better than any dinner I could have planned. I’m happy you came.”

You, without thinking too much about it, smiled and nodded. “I’m happy too. I didn’t imagine it would end like this.”

Max smiled again, and this time, the expression on his face was different. Softer, more approachable. It wasn’t just the confident, competitive Max from racing, but a version of him that seemed more vulnerable, more willing to share something more personal.

The chemistry between you was clear, and for the first time, you realized it wasn't just a superficial attraction. There was something much deeper, something you didn't know if it could be defined with words. But at that moment, there was no need. Being there, with Max, cooking, laughing, and sharing such a simple moment, was all you needed to know.

As the days passed in Monaco, the connection between you and Max became more and more evident.

Mornings were quiet, usually spent touring the city or relaxing on the terrace of his apartment while the sun slowly slipped over the horizon, tinting the sky in golden colors. Max was always around, whether it was to share a coffee in silence or to talk about what he was thinking for the next race. Often, their conversations were light, but there were times when, without warning, Max would drop a phrase or a confession that showed you a side of him you had never seen before.

One day, after lunch together, Max drove you through the mountains surrounding Monaco. As they drove along the winding roads, he began to talk, unprompted, about his life, about what it had taken to become who he was.

“My career isn’t just the podium, you know,” he said, looking out the window as the car moved down the road. “It’s everything I’ve had to leave behind: the parties, the relationships, the sacrifices… There are so many things people don’t see, so many difficult decisions.”

You looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration. Max had never been a person who opened up easily, always so focused on his goal, so focused on winning and perfection. But now, he was speaking to you with brutal honesty, as if somehow, he had decided to share the deepest part of himself with you.

“I know,” you answered calmly, not knowing what else to say, but you looked at him with genuine understanding. “You’ve been at the center of all this since you were so young.” It’s not easy, and people often don’t understand what it entails.

Max nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the landscape as the car continued on its way.

“That’s why it’s hard to trust people sometimes, you know?” he said, his voice laced with subtle melancholy. “Everyone expects something from you, and sometimes you don’t even know if people like you for who you are, or for what you represent.”

A wave of empathy washed over you. Max had lived a life full of expectations, external pressures, pain, and it wasn’t hard to see how all of that had made him close some emotional doors. But in that moment, it seemed like you had somehow entered his inner circle. You had gotten him to open up, to share something so personal.

What surprised you the most was the way he understood you. It wasn’t just that Max listened to you; he understood you. In every conversation, in every gesture, there was something about him that seemed to sense what you felt, what you needed without you having to explain it with words. He wasn’t like Lando, who, although he had always been affectionate, had never shown that level of deep understanding. Lando had his own way of seeing things, but in his words there was never a place for your dreams or your insecurities. With Max, everything was different.

Max also began to talk about his long-term ambitions, about what he wanted outside of the race track, things that weren’t just achievements, medals or trophies. He told you about his love for family, his desire to form one.

Sometimes, you found yourself watching him as he spoke, unable to help but feel drawn not only to his appearance, but to the vulnerability he had begun to show. This was a different Max, a Max who asked for your opinion and valued what you said, and although he could be competitive and stubborn at times, there was something in his gaze that made you feel important.

And you, of course, couldn't help but share your own thoughts with him. At first, you thought it would be hard for you to open up so much to someone, but with him, everything flowed. You felt free to talk about your goals, about fashion, about your own fears, about your insecurities. Max supported you at all times, without judging or pressuring you, just giving you his unconditional support. The way he looked at you while you talked made you feel like, for the first time, someone really understood you.

That connection was getting stronger, getting more and more impossible to ignore. And you knew, even though you tried to stay rational, that something was changing between the two of you. It wasn't just the chemistry, it wasn't just the shared smiles or the jokes, it was something deeper. Max was becoming someone more than just the Formula 1 driver you admired from afar. And you... you were starting to have feelings for him.

As the days went by and you shared more moments together, from impromptu dinners to walks around the harbor, you realized that Max was showing you a side of him that few knew about, and that side was winning you over in a way you couldn't control. It was such a stark contrast to the relationship you had with Lando, because with him, everything had always been more superficial, more loaded with expectations of what a relationship should be.

With Max, things seemed more real, more natural. And even though you didn't know how he felt exactly, you couldn't help but feel that this moment you shared was something unique.

The air in Monaco felt heavier that day, as if the sun was shining brighter as you walked through the city with Max by your side, enjoying the scenery, but at the same time with a feeling of unease in your chest. Max, noticing your change in mood, looked at you with slight concern.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, but with the clarity of someone who knew something wasn’t right.

You nodded, trying not to give too much importance to the whirlwind of thoughts forming in your head. You had been dealing with this silently for days, but now, while you were with Max, the doubts and feelings couldn’t be left behind. You decided it was time to face it, even though you didn’t know how he would react.

Just a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket, interrupting the peaceful walk. Looking at the screen, you saw Lando’s name and felt a pang in your stomach. With your pulse racing, you decided to open the message.

Lando: “I miss you. “I want to go back, I want things to be okay between us.”

A lump formed in your throat as you read the words. You knew he had been trying to reach you, that he still held out hope that things could be like they were before, but something inside you told you it was time to let him go. You knew you couldn’t keep fooling yourself, or Lando, or Max. Everyone’s paths had changed, and even though you had loved Lando at one time, everything seemed different now. The connection with Max was something you couldn’t ignore, a truth that had been growing between you and you could no longer deny it.

With shaking hands, you began typing out your reply. You didn’t want to do it over text, but at the same time, you knew it was the most direct and honest thing to do.

You: “Lando, I appreciate you so much, but we both know our lives are taking different paths. I don’t feel the same way I used to anymore. I’m spending time with Max now… things have changed, and I can’t move on with us. You know what you did and I did it to him.”

The phone stayed in your hands for a second, your heart pounding, and before you could regret it, you hit “send.” The relief was immediate, but it was also accompanied by a soft pain, like a wound that had been slowly closing, but was still bleeding.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before Lando replied to you. The tone of his text was clear: he was hurt, frustrated, and angry.

Lando: “So you’re with Max now, huh? I can’t believe it. I knew something was going on between you two, but this… This doesn’t just hurt me, it’s going to affect our image too. You’re breaking everything we built, everything we had.”

You read those words, and even though they hurt, you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew you couldn’t continue in something that no longer had a foundation, something that had worn away inside. But Lando’s words pierced you like an arrow, and in that moment, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Breaking up with him didn’t just mean letting go of a relationship, but also dealing with the consequences of the decisions you had made.

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and with a firm voice, you answered, knowing that there could be no turning back.

You: “Don't blame me, you were the one who slept with another woman and let the paparazzi catch you. This is the best for both of us, we no longer love each other like we once did.”

As soon as you sent the message, the tension in the air increased. Max, who had been by your side all this time, watched your face with an expression that seemed to understand what had just happened, although without saying a word.

Lando quickly responded, this time with more anger and resentment.

Lando: “You're going to see what's going to happen now. You know that this relationship has given us both so much, but it seems that it means nothing to you. You've left me in the lurch, and now I'm forced to deal with the public image of all this, with everything we've built, just because of one bad decision. Don't call me ever again.”

His final message hit you harder than you expected. It was final closure, and even though deep down you knew you had done the right thing, a part of you felt the weight of the words he had just written. You couldn’t deny that things between you and Lando had changed, but the fury in his message made it clear to you that, at that moment, he couldn’t understand your decision.

Max, seeing that you were tense from the answer, put a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “but you had no other choice. You deserve to be happy, and if that means moving on, then that’s what you have to do.”

You turned to him, grateful for his words. His understanding, his calm, was in complete contrast to the intensity of what you had just been through. Deep down in your heart you prayed that Lando wouldn’t do anything but you knew him, you knew how he got when he was angry and you were prepared to read your name and Max’s on the internet the next morning.

[sazzynatural]

Pairing: BuckTommy Prompt: Tommy asks Buck to move in. <3 <3 <3 <3

OH THIS WILL BE FUN. I have so many scenarios inside my head regarding that, so here goes one of them!

Warning for terrible dialogue. I just don't know how to make it sound flowy and natural 🥲

-------

It comes up unexpected and unprompted on a regular Tuesday morning when Buck is spitting out the toothpaste out of his mouth into Tommy's bathroom sink with Tommy mimicking him right after.

He hands Tommy his pack of floss threader next and he doesn't catch Tommy's smile of amusement until he's wiped his mouth clean from any toothpaste remains.

"What's so funny?" He sees Tommy's eyes glinting playfully with a hint of adoration in the reflection of the bathroom mirror and turns to face his boyfriend properly.

"You do realize what is happening here, right?"

Buck blinks. Confused, and Tommy ducks his head and chuckles. "Evan. You handing me the flosser without me asking. You did the exact same thing with the toothpaste. And my comb. You've been doing it the past few times you've stayed over."

And Buck smiles at that. "I suppose I have. I guess I didn't think about it."

"Exactly. You're getting comfortable."

And that's when Buck's smile fades. He's been through this before and knows what comes next. You're getting comfortable. He is getting ahead of things again, going too hard too fast for his partner's liking. You're getting comfortable. You're getting comfortable.

"Whoa! Evan! Hey. You still with me?"

"I'm sorry!"

Tommy stares at Buck for a moment with eyebrows furrowed in mixture of concern and confusion.

"What are you sorry about? I think it's great."

"You know I can take it if–"

"Okay, I think I know what is going on here. C'mere." Tommy's words are soft and encouraging when he tilts Buck's chin up with his fingers, and despite the uncertainty going on inside Buck's head at the moment, he can't help but to follow his instinct and fall right into Tommy's personal space.

"Whatever is happening inside your head right now? It's not real. I am right here, Evan. I am not your exes. I am not put off by your presence. It's the complete opposite of that."

And Buck believes him. Of course he does. Tommy has the power to read him and wash away any doubt with so much sincerity and care that it feels impossible not to trust him.

It doesn't make Buck feel any less stupid for even having that doubt in the first place.

"Of course I know that, Tommy. Deep down I– I do know that."

"Well, that's a relief. But in case there is any doubt left lingering..." Tommy is looking nervous all of a sudden, causing Buck to look right back at Tommy with the same confusion as before.

"When I said you're getting comfortable I meant it as a good thing, because... you seem right at home. I mean in my mind you've already moved in so I guess what I am trying to say is–"

"Yes!"

"Wha– Evan! I haven't asked the question yet."

"You said moving in! I think I can make the connection."

Tommy laughs and Buck smiles back widely.

"So it's a yes? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, Tommy, I am sure."

Tommy sighs with relief. "Okay."

"Okay."

[brokenpieces-72]

Hybrid au is so tastyyy

My minds stuck on reader getting their first romantical partner and the boys just being EVEYWHERE the lovers don't get a single second alone and do not even think about closing the door when alone that's a no no

Okay so I would say this happens when Spirit is a little older. As to whether the partner is human or hybrid I’m not sure.

Romantic Recon

You started with just hanging out but you got curious about a romantic partner. You got attached to them and they enjoyed your company. They were sweet and charming. Thought your ears were cute which always made you blush. Sometimes Johnny would notice and inquire, but you wouldn’t notice so you just shrugged it off, all happy and sunshine. Johnny doesn't let it go.

Your partner finally asks if you want to start spending more time together, and lo and behold, Konig overhears. Does he bring it up with Soap? Yes absolutely. Ghost is with him, and so is Gaz. They’d already suspected, your hormones do increase when you’re close to your partner. And of fucking course they get protective.

Horangi teases the fuck out of it. You swear everytime you just want to sit and talk with your partner he comes into the room to “grab something” or “pass through”. Yeah right, you know recon when you see it.

Konig does accidentally walk in on you. At one point you are audibly frustrated, and he backs out of the room. He didn’t mean to walk in, really. You probably shouldn’t close doors though. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on something you shouldn’t be- okay okay, you got it. Please don’t go into detail.

Price doesn’t mind you having a partner, but no closed doors. He’ll knock, to give you some space, but it’s more like a chance for you to stop canoodling before he opens the door. Door has to stay open or you can be out in rec room. Besides you have some work to do anyways. No you don’t get to bring the work back to your room, and your partner has another task they’re needed for.

Alejandro steps in when your partner is alone, you had to get up to grab something. At some point he calls your partner aside to ask a few questions, making sure they did the work they were supposed to. Then he asks what your partners intentions were with you. That made your partner uneasy. Nothing bad sir, they swear.

Rudy tag teams with the colonel, and will have the cadejos scratch on your door if it’s closed. Once you tried to hide with your partner just to talk, it was really just meant to be a simple chat. They were having a rough day and you wanted to know what was going on. Everything would be okay, you know it would and-really?! Rudy just stood there holding the door open. Everything okay in here? Obviously just go! The door was left open and you apologized profusely to your partner.

Ghost is annoying cause he acts like he hasn’t done anything. Yeah he definitely didn’t pass through the walls to see what you were up to. Closed doors are fucking useless with him. You half suspect Johnny put him up to it. No he just found it easier to pass through on his way to coffee. You roll your eyes, and tell him not to that. You’re a grown woman, and don’t appreciate him just coming in to your room whenever he pleases. You have a full on confrontation after he walked in on you and your partner in your room. You get why he did it when you were younger and your handler was a jerk, but he didn’t get to do it now. Simon actually respects your wishes. He still keeps watching though.

You figured if you couldn’t get privacy inside you’d try outside.…Gaz what the hell? You tried the roof where you sometimes sat with Gaz, but Gaz landed and told you two to get another roof. Oh come on, you were there first. Whatever. Your partner suggests a hike later on, and you love hiking and think you might actually get away for a bit! Yes! You could show your partner some of the best spots! Your partner finds your excitement adorable. Gaz flying overhead made your cloud watching a little annoying. Your partner is used to it at this point.

Johnny… okay Johnny was the one you could understand being protective but holy shit could he tone it down! When he asks who made you blush and you told him he went straight to the soldier. Since then he was watching like a hawk or asking someone else to check up on you. If he even sensed your hormones being different he would ask what you were up to tonight. Yeah, right it’s not nothing. You’re still not telling. He’ll sniff it out. He does and it’s frustrating. If he walks in he tries to cover it up, like it’s nothing, sorry he was just grabbing some food, or something. The final straw was when you still didn’t tell him what you were doing and he learned you went out without telling anyone with only your partner. He went full wolf mode tracking you down. That was fucking it! When you heard him coming you went into your full wendigo form, staring him down. The werewolf growling and your towering Wendigo form startled your date, and when you finally returned to base they asked if you two could take a break.

Price did give Johnny a hard time about go so protective. He understood why, but ha! You weren’t letting him off that easy. That night you were upset and did some crying. This wasn’t fair, you were an adult… and as an adult you were going to set some rules of your own. No joke you came to Price a day or so later requesting a meeting. No not with him, though you wanted his attendance, you wanted it with the whole team. Yeah Horangi better be there too or you would ask Konig to help you strap him to a chair to listen.

The atmosphere in that room is awkward. When Johnny tried to apologize after what happened you ignored him which never happens. As you left the room Ghost made a comment about him being in the dog house. You poked your head back in glaring. Oh no, Ghost was haunting that dog house too. Shit. In the meeting room everyone was present.

“Are you all aware I’m an adult?” You asked.

The room was very quiet with a few exchanging looks. You’ll take that as a yes.

“And you are also aware I am fully capable of making my own decisions? Of making my own mistakes and maybe even making good choices?” The room gave a few nods. Yeah okay, where was this going?

“So then you should also be aware that despite being the youngest on this team I am fully capable of having my own sex life.” You stated, arms crossed and glaring at each of them. Some of them went red.

“You’ve been avin sex?!” Johnny asked, voice raised. That’s what he focused on?!

“FUCKING NO!! Not that I would even have a chance with you lot fucking spying on me 24/7 like I’m thirteen!” You shouted back. That got Johnny to back off. You were upset, and he was the cause. They all were in some part.

“Spirit, what is this meeting about?” Price asked. You know he wants you to get on with the main point. It wasn’t just to have an argument with Johnny.

“I just want to have some proper alone time with my partner. We can’t easily leave base whenever we want, and there’s tons of people coming and going, I get that. But the few times we can be together to just hang out or cuddle for a bit, someone walks in on us, and all of you seem to have forgotten how to close the door, or that I am entitled to some level of privacy!” You explained. Okay, that was a much better explanation. There’s some undertones of emotion in your voice. The team was so used to you being their little one, they seemed to forget sometimes that you’d grown up.

Price gives in, and asks what you propose. You want to set some ground rules. You were permitted to be alone with your partner if you so desired. If they needed you, they could text or call for you, you could hear it. If the door is closed they had to knock, and had to wait for your response before coming in. No trying to get between you and your partner, or pulling you apart for other tasks unless it was actually required. It was something they all had to follow, but Johnny had only one condition. That you at least tell him where you’re going if you do leave for something. He’d only follow if it was an emergency.

By the end of the meeting, everyone parts ways to go about their usual routine. Gaz stuck behind while Johnny gave you space at Simon’s request. He noticed you were upset and wanted to apologize for the fly by. Not that it would matter, since your partner wanted a break. Kyle assured you that your partner needed time to relax, and adjust to the crazy hybrid family you had on base. It couldn’t hurt for you to take some time for yourself as well. Give it maybe a day or so, and then go talk to them. The woods would probably be the best to ensure you have some privacy. If you want, Kyle will wait for you on the roof.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @yune1337

[venomhound]

30 More Fluff Prompts

So my friend gave me the brilliant/horrible idea to make some fluff prompts based off actual dumb shit I've done/had happen to me. So here they are I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

These ones weren't pre-written with just myself in mind, so they actually use the proper 'person A/B' format for prompts. First fluff prompt list can be found >>here<<

If you use one of these, please tag me so I can seeee~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(18+), MDNI, NSFW and actual cavity inducing content below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Person A calls person B for their lunch break everyday. And I mean every single day. Person A says B's call and voice is what even allows them to get through the day.

Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school. 🌸Bonus points if this is a bunch of old/middle aged/super jacked men doing this

Person A and B have been online friends/dating/"just flirting"™ for months now. They finally decide to meet up in person. When they do, they both are super awkward and tense at first before quickly loosening up and having a blast by the end of the night like they are old pals.

Person A has person B and C accompanying them. B and C have been trying to get A's attention and quickly start competing against each other. B and C get so caught up in trying to one up each other that they completely don't notice person D just calmly walk up to A, ask them out, and whisk A away while they are arguing.

Person A says that they want to accompany person B to all their doctor's appointments and actually insists on it. When B asks them why, person A says its because they are their partner so they want to be there to support them, especially in case something goes wrong.

Person A tells person B that they have something super important to tell them and to let them know when they can talk about it. Person B, all panicked, asks what it is. Person A, with a completely straight face, just says "I love you". 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸*after a long pause* Person B: Wa-was that it?? 🌸Person A, now snickering: What do you mean? Is my LOVE not important to you?

Person A is an artist that knows how to write in a language person B does not. Person A frequently doodles faux tattoos on B, but B doesn't know that the symbols A draws on them are actually messages of love.

Person A and B are sitting next to eachother, fingers intertwined, and lovingly staring into eachothers eyes. They both go in for a kiss. Person B scooches closer and puts their leg in A's lap... only to get jabbed by A's raging hard-on. Person A pulls away from the kiss with an annoyed sigh and says, "I'm sorry, this happens everytime I look at you."

Person A goes up to person B's hotel room with the intention of having sex. However, when person A jumps onto B's lap and starts sweetly kissing them, B absolutely melts from the affection and asks if they can just kiss and cuddle instead.

Person A wakes up next to person B and starts to gently kiss them awake. Person B eventually goes, "I wish I could wake up every morning like this..."

Person A and B are in a long distance relationship. Person A frequently says the words "can I see you?" to B. Which means they want a candid photo of B, right then, in the moment. It doesn't matter what stupid stuff B is doing, or how garbage they feel, A always gushes over how beautiful B is when they send a picture.

Person A is on the phone with person B. A child person A is with (they can be babysitting or it can be their own child, whatever) suddenly shouts, "Are you on the phone with your wife?". Person B starts dying of laughter while person A is just completely shocked like, "M-my wife??" 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸Person A: We are not married we are just dating. 🌸Child: But you love them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah? 🌸Child: And you would do anything for them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah...? 🌸Child: THAT MEANS YA MARRIED.

Person A constantly tells everyone how amazing their partner, person B is. Its to the point that person A has now started carrying around pictures of B just so they can brag about them.

Person A told their parent(s) about how deeply they are in love with person B. So now said parent(s) are desperately trying to meet/get to know person B much to A's dismay. B has no idea what is going on.

Person A suddenly texts/calls person B and starts trying desperately to make plans at some point later in the day for them to meet up. Person B keeps shooting down all of A's ideas saying they will be busy during that time or other reasons why the idea won't work. Until person A finally breaks down and says, "look. I just... really want to see you."

Person A is totally lost. Person B finds them and knows immediately they are lost because they are just that pathetic/confused looking. When person A asks person B for directions, B is like 'Ill just show you where to go so you don't get lost again'. B grabs A's hand and leads them to their destination holding hands so they don't lose them.

Person A and B haven't seen eachother in awhile. When they finally see eachother again, they both go in for a big hug. Person A sighs and mumbles "god I missed your hugs". There is then an awkward pause before Person A nervously asks, "...did I say that outloud?"

Person A is hanging out in a mall with some friends when suddenly person B walks up and gives person A a big hug from behind. Person A is confused at first, but is then shocked when they turn around and see person B, someone who they haven't seen in years.

Person A is walking past some stores when suddenly they hear their name shouted from behind them. They turn around to see person B, their best friend from years ago. Person B is wearing the uniform of one of the shops A passed, so B was clearly working and ran out when they saw A. They both run at eachother into an embrace like its a tv show.

Person A and B start a movie/tv show marathon together. At the start, they are practically on opposite sides of the couch. But they keep slowly getting closer and closer as the marathon goes on. Until by the end, they are firmly snuggled into each other.

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. You were just so pretty I couldn't look at you in the eyes."

Person A: I love you. Person B: *gasps* I love you!! I've been wanting to say that but I didn't want to scare you…

"Honestly? I would be happy if I just got to come home from work everyday to you and a kiss."

"Coming home to you everyday would make everything worth it."

"I never really believed in the whole soulmate thing until I met you. There... isn't really another way to explain how perfect everything came together."

Person A: So, um... Would you be okay if we cuddle? Person B: *immediately scooches over* Yesplease.

Person A: Do you really have to go? Person B: Sweetie. We have been cuddling for 4 hours.

"Look. I don't mind sharing a bed. But I do demand cuddles as payment."

Person A, panicking and running their sentences together: I-I totally understand if your uncomfortable with me sleeping in the bed. I can just sleep on the floor, it's fine-OR I can sleep on the couch- Person B: *slow frog blink* …I'm fine with you sleeping in the bed, dumb-dumb.

Person A: Your couch is like... mega uncomfortable. Can I just like- share the bed with you? Person B: Seriously??!

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Broken Trust

Xavier x fem!Reader

Hey guys this is my first ever little drabble for the LADS boys, feel free to send in requests about what you would like to see next!

I will be coming up with a list of rules and a masterlist soon to make finding these short fics easier!

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, reader is not MC, reader is female, swearing, fighting wanderers, violence, blood, reader gets really hurt, slight OOC Xavier (I'm trying my best to make it as accurate as possible 😭), mentions of death

Word count: 3088

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Xavier

Countless days and nights passed by slowly, the walk home is too quiet without your little rambles about your missions or the things you and Tara got up to when you were supposed to be working.

By habit, Xavier presses the floor that leads to your apartment. Shaking his head he presses the number to his floor and silently watches the door slowly open to your floor, missing the time he would spend at your apartment.

He regrets leaving you alone that day to go see MC instead. He doesn't know what came over him but it doesn't excuse him leaving you when you needed him the most.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It hurt, not seeing him knowing he was just a floor away from me, but what hurt even more was knowing she was on the same floor as me.

Seeing her when I'm leaving or going, the guilty look in her eyes every time she looked my way. It was all so overbearing and annoying.

I hate the way she keeps looking at me every time she sees me. It makes me feel like I'm being rude when I ignore her greetings or when I turn away every time she looks my way.

Every day feels worse without him by my side, but it hurts knowing I wasn't his first priority ever since she came into the picture, the lovable hunter with determination in her eyes that shine brighter than Xavier's evol.

What does she have that I don't? Why was she more important than me, his girlfriend?

"It pisses me off that he hasn't even tried to apologize since that day." I said to myself.

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One week ago

Ever since that new hunter joined the Hunter Association a couple months back I've notice Xavier is barely around anymore, always off somewhere with her under the pretext of Jenna asking him to train her.

"He's supposed to be my partner and helping me out with my missions. Couldn't Jenna assign a different hunter to train MC? Why did it have to be Xavier?" I spoke to myself as I walked down the streets of Linkon in search of something to eat.

I found a nice place with some yummy looking pastries that looked to die for, but before I could even look at the menu my hunter watch beeped with notifications of a mission.

With a heavy sigh I left the little shop and headed to where my mission was located. Luckily Xavier would be joining me on this mission.

It's been a while since we've been on a mission together. I think to myself as I smile.

Who knew I'd would be so wrong.

"It's been two hours why isn't Xavier here yet?!" I say to myself as slash another wanderer. It was getting increasingly harder to keep up with the hoard of wanderers that just kept spawning out of nowhere.

"Fuck! Xavier when I get my hands on you I swear to god!" I yelled out.

I tried contacting him again and it just kept ringing until it went to voicemail again, and in that fleeting moment of distraction I failed to notice the wanderer behind me until it was too late.

The pain was paralyzing, I felt the wanderer remove its weapon from and go in for another attack. Only this time it never connected.

I heard a sharp ringing in my ear as my vision started to go blurry from the blood loss. I heard voices and the sound of footsteps before I collided with ground which sent a searing pain through my head as I passed out.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

At the hospital

Beep..... beep..... beep.....

I flinched at the noise as I started to regain my senses, and that's when the pain hit me tenfold. I groaned while clutching my head,

"Ugh it hurts so much." I cried out.

"I would assume as much considering you were very gravely injured." A familiar calm and cool voice spoke up. I looked to the side to see Zayne standing next to me with a clipboard in hand.

"You woke up right on time, let me ask you a few questions about how you're feeling." He looked down at his clipboard and started asking his questions one by one, diligently noting down everything I said.

"Unfortunately the wound will take a few weeks to heal up completely, I've written a note for your superiors requesting that you be put on leave until you are fully recovered, and I won't take no as an answer." He said as he narrowed his gaze at me noticing my mouth open to refute.

I slouched back into the hospital bed. "Ok I get it" I spoke in a voice that sounded like a toddler who just got scolded for eating dessert before dinner.

"Good, I'm glad we came to this agreement. Do you have anyone to come pick you up or do you need a ride back home?" Zayne asked. I silently shook my head no.

"Wait for me to finish your discharge papers and then I'll take you home." He spoke in that calm and comforting voice he has when he notices something is wrong with me.

I guess nothing can get past this childhood friend of mine, he knows me too well.

"Thank you Zayne, I really appreciate it." He hummed out a response and then left.

That's when everything that happened came crashing down on me.

Xavier left me alone, how could he?

The thought caused my eyes to start welling up with tears, the reality of the situation making my heart feel heavy.

Zayne came by and helped me get into his car and drove me home. The ride to my place was silent, I could tell Zayne wanted to ask me questions but seeing my face he kept it to himself knowing that the questions would only cause more pain.

"Thank you again Zayne, I know I can always trust you." I smiled at him as I got out of his car.

"I'll always be there for you, I'm only a call away if you need anything." Zayne said with a ghost of a smile. He helped me to my apartment and stood next to me as I tried to unlock the door.

I hope I don't see Xavier or MC anytime soon. I don't want to deal with either of them.

Speak of the devil and he appears, the elevators open to reveal MC and Xavier with smiles on their faces and what looked like plushies in their hands. Xavier noticed me and his face dropped in concern over my condition.

Luck was on my side as the door opened and I quickly got inside bidding Zayne farewell and expressing my gratitude for his help once again.

I locked the door and quickly made my way to my bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Not even a minute later I heard my phone going off with calls from Xavier. I ignored them and moved to the bathroom to wash up before getting into bed.

Under the warm water of the shower I let my tears flow and sobbed my heart out, the pain from the wounds, the pain from Xavier leaving me to go to a claw machine arcade with MC.

I risked my life to fight those wanderers and he was out having fun? I can't do this anymore, I can't keep trying to act like everything is fine.

Today was my last straw, as I got out of the shower I sent Xavier a quick message,

Me: Xavier, I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be a second option and I don't want to be left in a situation where my partner can't do their job.

You left me to deal with the mission myself, I don't want to hear from you again.

We're done.

I shut my phone off and slid into bed.

It's gonna be a long few weeks of recovery.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Xavier

I messed up.

That's all Xavier could think of when he saw the condition you were in. He doesn't know what came over him, but whenever he's with MC it feels like something has taken over him.

"Do you want me to leave Xavier?" He came to his senses when he heard MC's voice next to him.

"Yes I think that would be for the best." Xavier gave her a curt reply and turned towards your door, unlocking the door and getting inside. He made his way to your bedroom only to find the door unlocked, he was about to knock when he heard your sobs.

They were full of pain and it hurt him to know he was the reason for those painful sounds coming from you.

He silently turned away and decided it was best to let you have your space and come to you later.

As he made his way upstairs he decided to check his phone.

10 missed calls from you

3 missed calls from the Hunter Association

Shit

He cursed at himself for missing all of these calls.

What am I gonna do to make it up to her?

He thought to himself.

Its as if the gods above heard him and decided to send him his punishment right away.

He heard the familiar ping of a text message, knowing that tone was the one he set for you.

Y/N: Xavier, I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be a second option and I don't want to be left in a situation where my partner can't do their job.

You left me to deal with the mission myself, I don't want to hear from you again.

We're done.

The silence in the house was deafening, you could almost hear his heart shatter.

Please no. Please don't let this be true.

Xavier started to panic, the weight of everything crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. He went back down to your apartment, letting himself in and knocking on the door of your bedroom, unaware of the fact that you were fast asleep due to the pain.

"Please Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me and I know that's not an excuse. Please just let me explain myself." Xavier begged.

His back slid against the door as he sat on the floor, "I'm so sorry." Tears welled up in his eyes but he refused to let them drop. Time passed by and soon Xavier fell asleep in front of your door, waiting in hopes that you would open the door and talk to him.

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The next morning you noticed him sprawled out on the floor in front of your bedroom door. Not having any energy to deal with him, I stepped over him and slowly made my way to the kitchen to get something to eat so that I could take my medication.

"Y/N?" I heard Xavier's worried voice behind

I ignored him and continued to look for some food in my fridge. I ended up making the wrong move and let out a loud shriek of pain. groaning I held my stomach feeling the bandages get a little wet.

Xavier took a step forward to try and help but I held up a hand to stop him. "I don't need your help, you had your chance and made your choice. Please just leave me alone."

I saw his face drop in guilt, it hurt me to see him like that but not as much as the pain in my abdomen and heart.

"I'm sorry, please just let me take care of you." Xavier spoke in that soft tone, the one that I loved to hear the most when he would take care of me whenever I was injured.

"No. Leave, right now." I spat out through gritted teeth, the pain becoming a little more unbearable.

He resigned himself to listen and made his way to the front door, but before leaving he said, "I'll make it up to you, please just give me some time to make things right." With that he left me to ponder over his words in the silent apartment.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Present

This past week has been nothing but exhausting pain and constant crying.

I took a look at myself in the mirror on my way to my steaming bath.

Oh god, I look horrendous!

The bags under my eyes were dark, my skin looked so dull and my eyes looked puffy and red.

Determined to give myself a well deserved self-care day I started on getting washed up before applying some skin care before relaxing in the bath.

After some time I got out and dried myself down, wearing the fresh pair of PJ's that I had set out earlier on my bed, but before I could get back into bed the doorbell went off.

Groaning, I sluggishly made my way to the front door. When I opened it I was greeted with a face full of my favourite flowers.

What the hell?

Just as I was about to say something I saw the familiar mop of grey-brown hair pop up from behind the flowers. Sad and guilty filled blue eyes staring back at me.

Irritated I moved to close the door when his hand reached out to hold it in place.

"Please wait!" Xavier exclaimed, I don't think I have it in me to face him. This past week I've been fighting myself about dating Xavier again.

He was my best friend before he was my boyfriend, I miss my best friend.

With a small sigh I moved away from the entrance, giving him some space to come in.

I'll hear him out. I know deep down I want to make it work, but I'm not gonna tell him that.

I close the door and made my way to the couch, my movement being a little less restricted than before but there's still that constant dull ache of pain.

Xavier set the flowers down on a nearby table and was on his knees in front of me taking a hold of my hands. He gently ran his thumbs over my knuckles before speaking up.

"I don't want to give you excuses, but I mean it when I say I don't know what came over me and why I ignored all those calls or why I have been pushing you away and spending more time with MC."

Upon closer look I could see the bags under his eyes and the tiredness that he tried to hide but failed to do so.

It looks like he hasn't been sleeping at all.

He dropped his head down and I noticed the slight shake in his shoulders,

"I don't know what I would have done if I lost you because of my foolishness."

It was then I felt the tear drops on my lap, my resolve breaking as my heart couldn't bear to see him so broken.

I cupped his face and turned his face to look at me, the tears running down his face and the guilt in his eyes even more apparent than before.

"You really hurt me Xav."

His eyes widened a bit at the use of the name I had for him, he tried to look away in shame but I kept my grip firm.

"I thought I was going to die. I trusted you with my life the day you became my partner, and you broke that all for another girl."

I could see how my words affected him, and a part of me is glad that they hurt him.

Even if it's only a fraction of the pain I had to endure, I want him to understand my pain.

"I'm not going to ask you to tell me about whatever is going on between you because I don't want to get hurt."

I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes, and soon enough the tears started to drop.

"Please Y/N, I promise there's nothing between MC and I." Xavier says in a hushed voice as he reaches out to wipe away my tears.

"In this life and every other life after, my heart only belongs to you." His declaration made my heart flutter.

"I know you don't want to hear about whatever is going on with MC, but I can promise you that it was merely a distant connection from a past life, nothing more than that."

If there was one thing that I could trust, it was that the eyes are truly the window to the soul and Xavier's eyes told no lies.

I sighed and leaned back onto the couch, letting go of Xavier's face. I closed my eyes to let my brain and emotions process.

I know I shouldn't but just this time, I'll give him another chance.

I opened my eyes and looked at Xavier, patting my lap to signal him to come and lay his head in my lap.

He quickly obliged and made himself comfortable with his arms wrapped carefully around my waist, holding me as if I was just an illusion that would disappear.

I ran my fingers through his hair, the action causing his body to relax and lean into the touch.

"It'll take some time for us to get back to where we used to be. I trust you when you say that there's nothing going on between you two, but my trust in you as my partner is broken."

I spoke softly, feeling myself relax for the first time since the incident.

Xavier got up from his position and knelt beside me on the couch, gingerly taking my face into his hands.

"I promise you, I will spend every moment working on rebuilding that trust and more. You are the only light I need in this life and every life after it."

He whispered before placing a soft kiss on my lips. He then pulled back and got off the couch, lifting me up in his arms.

Surprised, I let out a squeal wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Xavier! Be careful!"

He let out a small laugh and kissed my forehead.

"Let me take care of you, to make up for the week that you've been by yourself. You deserve nothing less than the best."

I smiled up at him, reaching up give him a small peck on the cheek.

"You better be ready to be at my beck and call." I joked,

"I'd do anything for you, even if you want this world to be in ruins."

[kimmie2me]

# 02. Street Smarts & Tough Lessons

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⋆⁺⋆˙⠀⠀⠀⠀taglist ... chapters ... masterlist

.....

The cruiser’s interior was cramped, filled with the scent of stale coffee and the lingering traces of early morning. Pale sunlight filtered through the windshield, casting soft patches of light over Bakugou’s face as he drove. His gaze was fixed on the empty city streets, his expression as sharp and unyielding as if he were navigating a minefield. The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence, an ever-present reminder of the tension simmering between you two.

You shifted slightly, the seatbelt pressing into your shoulder as you stole a glance at him. His grip on the steering wheel was ironclad, fingers flexed as though the leather itself might slip through his hands. His jaw was set, a muscle in his cheek jumping each time he exhaled, a small, annoyed huff breaking the silence.

The morning light softened the cityscape outside, revealing clean sidewalks and storefronts that had yet to see foot traffic. You watched as people began trickling out of apartments, coffee in hand, ready to start their days. The world outside was calm, bright, and indifferent to the tension stewing inside the car.

You tried to ignore the oppressive silence, focusing instead on the quiet streets and the rare passerby. Your earlier rookie mistake hung heavy in the air, unspoken yet potent enough that Bakugou’s simmering irritation seemed to intensify with every block you passed.

When you finally dared another glance in his direction, his eyes remained trained ahead, his jaw visibly clenching. When he did speak, his voice was low and edged with barely concealed frustration, slicing through the quiet.

“Hope you’re actually paying attention this time,” he muttered, eyes still on the road. “Last thing I need is you messing up again.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself for whatever scathing critique was coming next. You’d heard Bakugou had a reputation for being rough on rookies, and he seemed determined to live up to it.

As you both exited the cruiser and stepped onto the pavement, you felt his gaze bore into the back of your head. He walked beside you with a predatory stride, hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes flicking over the street like he was cataloging every possible threat.

.....

“Why the hell do ya walk like that?” he snapped, startling you.

It's literally been not even 10 minutes into this.

“Like what?” you asked, frowning in confusion.

“Like we’re out for a Sunday stroll,” he grumbled, giving you a look that could melt steel. “You think anyone’s gonna wait around for you to take in the sights?”

You stifled a sigh. Apparently, he wasn’t just hung up on your earlier mistake and the fact he's forced to be your partner; now he was criticizing the way you walked.

Bakugou continued, his tone unrelenting. “Look around with some purpose. Head up, eyes moving. You look soft—like you couldn’t catch a runaway kid, let alone handle anything serious.”

Resisting the urge to retort, you lifted your chin, adopting a more purposeful stance. But his gaze remained fixed on you, his scrutiny relentless, catching every slight adjustment in your posture.

“You even know what you’re lookin’ at?” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he followed your gaze. “You’re wasting time, staring at every shop window like it’s got some hidden clue. We’re looking for threats, idiot, not window shopping.”

Your frustration bubbled, but you forced yourself to keep quiet, focusing instead on what lay ahead. This entire shift, he’d been taking every chance to point out your supposed flaws, his tone drenched in disdain. Yet beneath it, there was a challenge, like he was testing to see how far he could push you.

“I get it,” you said finally, barely keeping the irritation out of your voice. “I messed up, but I’m here to learn. You don’t have to keep pointing out every single thing I do wrong.”

Bakugou stopped short, fixing you with a hard stare. “Learn? You think this is about learning?” He gestured to the quiet street, exasperated. “From where I’m standing, you’re barely paying attention to anything useful.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, trying to keep calm. “I’m listening, alright?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Every time we turn a corner, you’re more interested in someone’s shoes than what’s actually going on. You think it’s cute to notice all that?”

“It’s not useless,” you replied, defensive. “Noticing details is part of the job. Being observant is important.”

“Observant?” He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Sure, if you want to notice every detail that doesn’t matter. You’re acting like some over-eager intern, playing cop.” He nodded toward a figure across the street. “See that guy? His hand just twitched near his pocket. What do you think that means?”

Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh… maybe he’s going for a phone?”

“Or a weapon,” Bakugou interrupted coldly. “Or maybe he’s nervous. Could be anything. You don’t get the luxury to guess.”

You bit back the sting of his words, forcing yourself to hold steady even as frustration prickled at you. “Then what would you do?” you muttered.

Bakugou scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’d size ‘em up without getting distracted by useless crap. We’re not here to admire the scenery. You’re supposed to notice what doesn’t fit, not give people fashion critiques.”

Your hands balled into fists as you kept pace with him, trying to absorb his harsh words without snapping. You’d heard Bakugou was a challenging mentor, but this felt more like a gauntlet than training.

As you neared an alley, Bakugou threw an arm out to stop you. “Stay back,” he ordered, voice dropping low. “Don’t just breeze past an alley without checking it out. You think muggers are gonna announce themselves?”

You swallowed, taking a step to scan the shadowed alleyway. The sunlight filtered in, casting long, deceptive shadows, and you couldn’t help but feel a prickle of unease. This felt a bit much to be honest, but he seemed dead serious. Might as well attempt to get something out of this..

Bakugou noticed your hesitation and rolled his eyes. “And another thing—quit fiddling with your belt like some nervous kid. If you can’t handle your gear comfortably, you’re in the wrong line of work.”

His words cut deep, and you felt frustration building. “Are you actually going to teach me anything? Or just keep criticizing everything?”

For a long, intense moment, he just stared at you, eyes narrowed in a way that made you feel like he was measuring your worth.

Then, he scoffed, a smirk twisting his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.”

Fucking fantastic.

.....

After hours of covering the same old route, checking in with local shops, and keeping an eye on the usual suspects, you finally breathe a little easier. The sun is beginning to rise, and the shift is winding down. You’ve survived it, you think. A few hours with Bakugou and you haven’t completely messed up yet.

You’re starting to feel the faintest spark of relief, the first signs of the end of your shift in sight, when Bakugou suddenly turns, face as stern as ever, his eyes sharp despite the early hour.

“Alright, rookie, that’s enough of your daydreaming. Back to the precinct,” he snaps, not bothering to slow his pace.

For a second, you think you’ve misheard him. You weren’t expecting to be thrown back into another assignment. “What?” you manage to squeak out, your brain still foggy from the hours of patrolling.

“I said we’re heading back to the precinct. That was only the first part of the shift, dumbass.” His voice is like gravel scraping against your nerves. “You think just because you walked around a few blocks, you're done?”

Your stomach drops.

You try not to groan. You had genuinely hoped—prayed—that once the patrol was done, you'd be free for the day. Maybe you could grab a coffee, and take a second to breathe. But no, that wouldn’t be Bakugou’s style, would it? Curse you for getting so used to the usually nothingness with Kaminari.

“No, we’re not done,” he says, almost as if reading your thoughts, though his words feel like a sucker punch to your optimism. “We’ve still got work to do. Don’t get used to thinking you can take breaks just because you’re ‘done.’”

Great. This day is never going to end.

.....

The precinct buzzes around you all day, a strange blend of organized chaos and constant interruptions. It feels like Bakugou has somehow crafted the worst possible introduction into this job just for you—hours of grueling tasks that demand your attention at every turn, all while he manages to keep up a steady, biting commentary that you’d swear is designed to throw you off balance. At one point, he barely glances at you as he flicks through a pile of paperwork, but you swear he’s smirking as he hands you another stack. And you’ve barely started when he’s already moved on, barking orders at someone across the room.

The hours grind by slowly, your feet aching by midday, and your brain’s a blur of unfamiliar forms, barely decipherable police shorthand, and Bakugou’s voice echoing in your head. No matter what you do, he always finds something to comment on—a quiet scoff if you manage something right, a darkly amused grin when you slip up. It feels like you’re in some kind of endurance test, the kind they warned you about in training but somehow didn’t quite prepare you for.

As the day stretches on, a headache starts to throb at your temples. Bakugou’s still charging forward without any sign of letting up, taking you along with him from briefing rooms to meetings to the field, and by the time the clock finally edges close to eleven at night, you’re nearly nodding off on your feet.

Then, as he heads out the door, he turns back to you with a look that makes your spine stiffen, “You better be early tomorrow.”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, and you almost choke. Early? EARLY? After everything he put you through today?

You’re still reeling as he strides away, leaving you alone in the emptying precinct, barely able to keep your eyes open. But when you stumble inside, you catch sight of Kaminari lounging against one of the desks, scrolling through something on his phone.

Lucky bastard.

“Hey,” he calls over with a smirk, glancing up and giving you a once-over. “So how’d it go?”

He pauses, and then his expression changes, eyes widening a bit as he takes in your slouched posture, the bags forming under your eyes, and what’s probably a permanent frown from all the things you’ve had to hold back today. “Never mind. You look like that thousand-yard-stare guy. I’m actually kinda afraid to ask.”

You laugh, but it comes out a little too deadened, a testament to your exhaustion. “Day one, and I’m already dead on my feet,” you mutter, rubbing your face. “Not exactly sure I survived, actually.”

“Yeah, you’ve got that new recruit look—like they dropped you into the deep end with weights tied to your ankles,. Man, I kinda wish I took a picture so we could do the 'this is me before my 12-hour shift,' and 'this is me after'” he sighs, giving you a sympathetic wince. “The good news is, it gets…well, easier’s probably the wrong word. But at least you’ll get used to it.”

You manage a weak smile. “Comforting. Thanks.”

He grins back, but then his eyes catch on something over your shoulder. “Oh, hey,” he says, waving over your shoulder. “I’m out, though—good luck. And if you need a rescue mission, just call.” He gives you a wink and a mock salute before sauntering off.

As you turn to see who he waved at, a familiar bright red head of hair bobs into view.

“Hey, didn’t mean to startle you,” Detective Kirishima says, coming up to you with a friendly smile that makes you feel like you might actually be able to breathe again. His energy is a bit much for your current state, but something about him is…nice, grounding. “Sorry, don’t think we’ve met yet,” he adds, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m Kirishima Eijiro.”

You give a tired smile, introducing yourself with a nod. “Yeah, I, uh…definitely know who you are. Heard a lot about the whole ‘Red Riot’ thing.” You gesture vaguely, almost missing his look of pleasant surprise.

“Oh, yeah?” He grins, clearly pleased, but it’s easygoing, lacking the cockiness you’ve come to expect from Bakugou. “That whole title is a bit much, if you ask me. Well, it’s good to meet you, even if it’s been one hell of a day, huh?”

“That’s one way to put it,” you say, sighing. “You could also say I was dragged through the nine circles of hell and back.”

Kirishima chuckles, nodding knowingly. “Bakugou’s a bit intense, especially on new recruits. But he’s actually…well, he’s a good guy underneath. If you’re looking for a tip, though, one thing that might soften him up a little in the morning—”

You raise an eyebrow, almost unable to believe there’s a way to make Bakugou “soften” in any capacity. “What, like a bribe?”

“Sort of.” Kirishima chuckles. “Coffee. He can’t stand the usual stuff most people get him—like, black coffee with no sugar. Everyone thinks that’s his vibe, but it drives him nuts. Just get him something decent. And not with that sugary stuff, either. You’ll figure it out.” He smiles kindly, though he must see the exhaustion in your eyes, because he takes a step back. “But hey, I’ll let you get going. Don’t want to keep you here any longer than you have to be. Good luck, though! And…hang in there.”

He gives you a wave and an encouraging nod, then heads out, leaving you with a sense of surreal hope mingling with exhaustion. You don’t know if coffee alone can really fix Bakugou’s attitude—or if there’s some magic in the world that could make him less impossible—but as you finally drag yourself out into the quiet night, the thought lingers.

Maybe.. it's really that easy?

.....

The morning arrived way too early, especially for someone who’d dragged herself to bed with just enough time to catch a few precious hours of sleep. But here you were, practically clawing your way out of the sheets at an ungodly hour, rubbing at your bleary eyes as you blearily shuffled to your computer. Because today was going to be different.

Kirishima's advice had stuck with you, gnawing at the back of your mind until you finally gave in. If a decent coffee could improve your odds of surviving another day with Bakugou, then hell, you’d become a damn coffee expert. After all, who’d have thought the ticket to maybe, maybe earning a sliver of respect from this guy would be a cup of coffee?

Problem was, you had zero clue what that entailed.

You’d Googled “coffee orders for grumpy cops” and “coffee orders that scream I hate everything” before even realizing how ridiculous it sounded, then quickly deleted your search history in a flurry of shame and annoyance. Next, you’d tried browsing lists of “strongest coffee,” “bold coffee blends,” and “top coffees for strong personalities”—only to end up with pages of coffee snob jargon and fancy words that made no sense. Cold brew? Double shot? Espresso macchiato? Why did coffee need a PhD to understand?

The only thing you usually got yourself was a matcha latte with a splash of creamer, maybe a hint of vanilla. But Bakugou was definitely not a “matcha and creamer” type of guy. No, he probably preferred something bitter, with a kick that could wake the dead. After close to an hour and a mental Venn diagram of “strong flavors” and “no sugar,” you thought you’d finally cracked the code: a triple shot espresso with just enough milk to take the edge off, but not enough to ruin the bite. It seemed… strong. Just like him.

On your way to the precinct, you swung by the nearest coffee shop, eyes darting across the menu like you were analyzing a tactical map. You read and reread each option, carefully cross-referencing every espresso and cold brew with your phone’s coffee notes app (yes, you’d made an app folder just for this).

By the time the barista finally got to you, you’d zeroed in on the perfect drink. Or, at least, what you hoped was the perfect drink.

“A triple espresso macchiato with a splash of milk, please. To go,” you added, hoping to sound decisive even though you were already second-guessing everything. The barista gave you a cautious look, probably spooked by the intensity of your stare. But hey, desperate times.

When the order came up, you took a long, evaluative whiff. It smelled dark and bitter, which you were sure was promising. With a steadying breath and a pep talk (“It’s just coffee”), you marched into the precinct.

You made it in early, nerves a mix of dread and determination as you took up your usual spot in the briefing room, coffee cup cradled like it was some kind of peace offering. You’d barely been there five minutes when you heard Bakugou’s heavy footsteps, purposeful and brisk.

He didn’t even acknowledge you at first, just dropped his bag on the desk with a scowl that could curdle milk. Perfect timing, really.

You cleared your throat, extending the cup his way. “Thought you might want some coffee.”

Bakugou shot you a look, eyebrow raised in skeptical surprise. “Y’don’t know how I take my coffee, so why the hell’d you even bother?”

Your grip tightened just a bit on the cup. Oh, you were very aware of that fact, considering the Herculean effort you’d just put into decoding what he might possibly like.

“Just… thought you’d appreciate it,” you managed through gritted teeth. “Triple espresso macchiato. Strong, no sugar. Figured that’d suit you.”

He eyed it, a shadow of… compilation? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell. With a scoff, he took the cup and, in one quick motion, took a swig. And immediately, he stopped.

For a heartbeat, you held your breath, half-hoping he’d give even the tiniest nod of approval. But instead, he made a face, as though the coffee had personally insulted him. He lowered the cup, glaring at it like it was the last straw in a long line of disappointments.

“Seriously?” he grumbled, looking from the cup to you. “What is this crap?”

Your stomach dropped. You’d woken up ten times earlier than usual, spent your entire morning dissecting coffee like it was a crime scene, and this guy couldn’t even pretend to appreciate the effort?

“It’s a triple espresso,” you said, voice taut with barely contained exasperation. “Supposed to be strong, y’know? Just like you.”

“Oh, so now you’re some coffee connoisseur?” he shot back, holding the cup away from himself like it might explode. “This’s strong, alright. Strong enough to taste like mud.”

You practically felt steam shooting out of your ears. Mud?! After all that research? All that lost sleep? A tiny part of you wanted to take the cup back, drink it yourself, and walk out. But Bakugou, with his unflinching, unimpressed stare, left you no choice but to swallow your frustration.

“Fine,” you muttered, resisting the urge to yank the cup from his hands. “Next time, I’ll just get you water.”

“Good idea,” he deadpanned. But then, with a tiny, grudging glance your way, he took another sip—still cringing, but now eyeing you from over the rim of the cup like he was testing your reaction.

With a huff, you turned back to your desk, grumbling under your breath as you reached for your own drink. So much for softening him up. So much for making things even a fraction easier.

But, just as you sat back down, you caught a glimpse of Bakugou out of the corner of your eye—leaning back, lifting the cup once more. Hope sparked in your chest. Maybe he’d decided it wasn’t so bad?

Then, with a disgusted curl of his lip, he chucked the entire cup straight into the trash can without a second thought, like it was yesterday’s garbage.

In your mind, you nearly screamed. He threw out some perfectly good coffee… in this goddamn ECONOMY?! Your fingers twitched with suppressed rage, jaw clenched so tight you felt your teeth ache. Fuck you, Bakugou Katsuki. Fuck you and your coffee-hating soul.

You settled back into your seat, mentally replaying every penny wasted on that triple espresso disaster, resolving that next time he’d get whatever was cheapest. Maybe decaf, for all you cared.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another day another "applying the concept 'disposability' to 'someone withdraws from a personal relationship, & that wasn't signed off on by the other'" kill me

[thinkinpoink]

Me? Having a meltdown due to stupid changes in the work scheduling process?

More likely than you think!

[pepprs]

i will shut up abt this i promise but like. the concept of being in a stable safe mutually loving whatever relationship is INSANE . like how can you ever feel bad about yourself or wounded or whatever again. it’s like a superpower or somethi ng. <- doesn’t know what she’s taking abt bc she’s never experienced it or the absence of it after having it merely the negative space of it and is filling in the gaps w logic or something. but it’s INSANE to me. like of course i feel like shit about myself i am catcrumb unloved.jpg!

[albedobeheading]

every time I have to deal with my mother guilt tripping me or saying whatever shit she wants to make me upset, it just makes me miss my boyfriend so much to the point where I feel embarrassed about it because I know I wouldn’t be this needy if I wasn’t living here

[bitter-post-millennial]

Oh so you’re purposely missing the point I’m trying to make. Good to know.

The point wasn’t about the relationships themselves. It was that in a story about THE DANCE you’re going to have spots of sympathy for both sides. It’s a give and take. Not everything is going to be about Rhaenyra. Sometimes they have to make room for other things. The show isn’t perfect, in fact I have a lot of issues with it, but it’s also removed a lot of Rhaenyra’s character to make her more sympathetic. This can be seen in the book with vaemond where he never even got to petition the court. He just talked about how he was upset about the line of succession being interrupted by a child who obviously wasnt related to him and who had no interest in learning what it means to be a Velaryon. So Rhaenyra dispatches daemon and he beheads vaemond and they feed his body to Caraxes. She lets her child get away Scotfree after he ripped his uncles eye out. Aemond didn’t even get an apology but ok.

Based on show canon- not the books- alicent gave birth as a child, around 15. She endured marital rape by Viserys at the very least 3 times, 4 if we’re counting Daeron. I think that might be an important aspect to think about considering the fact that Alicent knew exactly how Aemma died and knew that her husband would rather slit her stomach and get the child than tell her what was going on. Imagine being 15 and knowing that you can’t say no to your best friends father when he asks to marry you.

Please for the love of god talk to people different than you. Find empathy for someone other than your girl boss queen Rhaenyra. Please just act like a normal person. These are fake people with fake problems meant to illustrate and explore certain aspects of medieval life and what they mean in historical context. This is not a modern story.

the fact that we are going to have to sit through multiple alicent/crispy scenes this season and didn't even get ONE harwin/rhaenyra scene last season is a crime

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[pennjammin]

your panties scare me, can i take them off?

pov. you got new halloween panties/pajamas and he’s about to lose his mind.

content: implied smut, breath play (toji), virgin!choso, sexual content (MDI), husband!nanami, breeding kink (nanami), roommate!gojo, afab!reader

incl pairings: choso, nanami, gojo, toji

word count. 2.1k

soundtrack 💿🌧️: sex on sight ft. usher

Choso.

"Mmh..."

You lay on the bed, entangled in burly arms and the scent of aftershave. Your boyfriend is attacking you in sloppy kisses, all down your neck and jaw, as screams beam out of the TV from the horror movie you'd stopped watching about ten minutes ago.

His hand roams dangerously over your side while your nails dig into his back for stability. The two of you have yet to take things as far as penetration, so it’s all you can do to fight back the urge to whip his cock out and plop down on it.

You wonder if tonight things are going to finally change, as you feel your panties grow damper, and Choso's cock digging into your stomach through his sweats.

"Why do we always do this?" Choso breathes. “We start a movie we can't even finish."

You laugh against him before it melts into a moan at the reminder of his wet lips. "Because I don’t like scary movies, Cho. ‘M so afraid.”

Choso grunts against your skin, "Really? How can i make you feel better?”

You huff and roll onto your back. Choso doesn't waste any time climbing over you, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You can start by taking my shorts off,” you instruct, eyes filled with lust as you stare up at your ebony-haired partner.

He pauses his kisses to look down at you in surprise. "Y-You want to...?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip. “Don’t y’wanna comfort me from the scary monsters on the TV?”

Choso nods eagerly, and his big hands come up to your waistband to begin pulling down your shorts. As the material slides over your thighs, he pauses and stares with furrowed brows, right at your underwear.

"Um, baby?" he cocks his head to the side. "Who is... V.S.?"

You let out an exasperated breath before smiling. "That stands for Victoria's Secret, Cho. It's a lingerie brand."

His eyes bulge and he looks back up at you, "Lingerie?"

He continues to slide the shorts all the way off, to reveal your blood red thong with a tiny white ghost on the front. You suspect the ghost is supposed to look like a glob of cum, and you imagine Choso’s in its place.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, "you wore these f'me?"

"Who else, Cho?" you run your hands over your stomach seductively, patting the top of the thong. "You like?”

Choso's eyes flash white, and he hooks his fingers over the skinny string that keeps the thong around your waist.

"Shit, I..." he swallows thickly. "Love them. You have more like this?”

You nod confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see them one at a time.”

You wink and Choso’s nervous hands remain entangled in the strings of your thong. “What if I can’t please you?”

"Not possible," you shake your head, running your hands into his hair, grateful he’d taken it out of its pigtails for his shower. "I nearly cum every time we make out."

His eyes widen. "Oh, so it's not just me," he breathes out in relief.

You giggle and spread your legs a little more, your lips threatening to pop right out of the terribly small pair of panties.

A girl shrieks on the TV and there is the sound of a slashing knife.

You fake a shiver, "Oh, Cho! I'm so afraid. Mmh, hurry and make me feel better.”

Choso smirks and rips down your panties, knowing that the neighbors are going to think someone is really being murdered by the time he’s done with you.

Nanami.

"Excuse me, my love."

You turn in place to see your husband, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom as you brush your teeth.

"Hmph, yes?" you mumble around your toothbrush, your face heating in the same way it always does when you see him, no matter how long you��ve been together.

Nanami stands awkwardly in the doorframe, shifting his weight like a nervous child. He's in his own version of pajamas: a white shirt, plaid pants, and house shoes. His hand raises and he points to your legs.

"When did you acquire those?" he asks delicately, referring to the tiny orange shorts you have on that are patterned in bats.

"The shorts?" you mumble, before removing your toothbrush and spitting out the toothpaste. "Um, I got them yesterday while costume shopping with the kids. Why?"

Nanami laces his fingers together. "I just thought I'd seen all of your clothes, because you always try them on for me. You didn't..." he inhales a ragged breath. "You didn't show me these. Is there a reason?"

You nearly feel your heart shatter through your ribcage. Nanami clearly looks distraught that you failed to give him a fashion show. At the same time, you notice his pajama pants growing a friendly tent in them, and you suspect you know the real reason he is upset.

"I... wanted it to be a surprise, Ken," you say, pat drying your mouth on a washcloth, before walking towards him, all minty and shower fresh.

"A surprise?" Nanami questions, visibly getting tense as you approach.

"Mhmm..." you tiptoe your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. "You like them?"

"That's a very loaded question," Nanami mutters. "I like anything you wear."

"But these seem to be having a different effect on you, honey," you coo, tilting your head to the side, resting your hand on the back of his neck - his sweet spot.

You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "They’re really… small. And we, you know, can’t do things as often anymore with the baby… I just miss you.”

You sigh, relaxing under his touch. “Right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Nanami lets out a feral noise. "No, I’m not. I feel like a horny teenager. Just need you really bad.”

“I haven’t seen you this desperate in a while, honey,” you say, taking a step back, letting your hands fall off of each other. "Go ahead. Take them off.”

Nanami doesn't hesitate. His big hands gently peel down the waistband, and he bites his lip as he examines what’s underneath.

"You're not wearing underwear," he realizes with a breath. “Gonna make me lose myself here, Y/N.”

"Well, I was thinking..." you cock your head to the side. "One more baby wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Nanami's eyes grow a bit larger. “D-don’t say that.”

“Know you’ve been trying so hard not to finish in me,” you coo, “but don’t you miss it?”

“Y/N…” his knuckles go white as he nearly rips the material of your little shorts. “We really shouldn’t.”

"No, but ngh..." you roll your hips under his hands. "Wouldn't it be fun to see how feral we can get?"

"I am already ‘feral’ just looking at these shorts, Y/N." Nanami nearly whines, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, waiting for you to give him the word.

"Really," you whisper on his neck, planting a kiss there soon after. "That was easier than I thought.”

Nanami sighs against you. "Why are you so good at this, hm, little minx?"

You smile against his skin, "Why are my shorts still on, Kento?"

Nanami growls, all guttural and primal instinct, and your back is crashing against the counter in an instant.

You bite your lip, "Eager?” you question.

"You have no idea." He hums as he slides down the orange garment, staring at them. "Did you buy any more?”

"Maybe," you say quietly, blinking as you try to picture what he's going to do to you next.

"Good," he parts your legs and stands between them before using his thick hands to open your mouth and shove the shorts right inside of it. “We’ll need these so we don’t wake the baby.”

Gojo.

"You wanna be me so fucking bad!"

You spin slowly in place, holding a piece of popcorn only halfway to your mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Your eyes land on your roommate's bottoms, a plush pair of Friday-the-13th pajama pants. They are exactly like the boy shorts you’re wearing, the ones that have ridden up and cover basically nothing.

"If you wanted to match, you could've just said that," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms.

You raise your eyebrow, "I’ve had these for a long time. You're the one who wants to be like me."

Gojo scoffs. "Why haven’t I ever seen them, then?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And au contraire, madamoiselle, I want to be in you. Huuuge difference there.”

You cough a bit, choking on nothing, unable to respond.

"Of course, choking on my cock could definitely work too," Gojo mutters, examining his nails. "Maybe teach you a lesson about walking around in just your panties."

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard to deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach just from his words. "Please, like I've never done this before."

"And every time you have, you end up bent over, begging for me to take it easier, don't you?" He cocks his head to the side and lets his eyes slither down your body like a snake of temptation.

You bite your lip. "So it’s my fault that you have no self control?”

Gojo nods his head. "Yes, maybe I just wanted to have a nice, relaxing Halloween game night with you... but now you've got me so worked up."

You tap your chin. "You wanted to spend time with me that doesn't involve sex? Seems a little out of character, don't you think?"

Gojo stalks towards you, long feathery strides until he's towering over your frame, eyes threatening to sear your clothes right off of you.

"Oh, you can't get any denser, can you?" he questions. "This sick little arrangement we have, teasing each other and fucking on every surface in the house isn't what I want." He pauses. "I mean, yes, but it's more than that."

You blink up at him. "What else could you possibly want?"

Gojo sighs, and slowly wraps his arms around you in a cinnamon-scented bear hug. "I want to contact you about your car's extended warranty."

"SATORU!" you screech, hitting him on the chest as he bursts into laughter.

"I'm joking, you know that I can't take shit seriously," he runs his fingers through his hair. “For fuck sake, I want a relationship with you, okay? Do I need to spell it out on the lawn?"

"Yes, actually," you tease, sitting your popcorn bucket down and running your buttery hands over his chest. "You want to be with me?"

"Your pussy's too good to let anyone else have you," he hums, leaning forward and kissing your neck.

"You're so annoying," you grit, but you can't help but melt into his touch and kisses.

He chuckles against you but doesn’t respond.

Gojo pulls his head out of your neck and leans towards you, lips parted in expectancy.

Your eyes flutter closed just as your mouths collide, this kiss feeling different than the hundreds that had come before it. You lean into him and grab the drawstring of his pajamas, while his fingers are also subconsciously twisting into your boy shorts.

"Mmh, can't get enough of you," Gojo mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle. "Good thing I'm yours now. There's plenty of time to reach all of me."

He breaks away from you and stares down in astonishment. "Really?"

You nod, tugging him closer by his pants. "So, about that game night..."

"Eh, it can wait, we have some celebrating to do." He grins, and before you know it you're being lifted swiftly into the air, hauled over his shoulder with your ass next to his face, as he pops a crack on the soft skin there. "And don't you ever wear these without warning me again."

Toji.

“Why are you hovering? I said sit.”

Your boyfriend is obsessed with you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your cunt and juices, this is nothing new. But this time, he wants to try something a bit more deranged.

You’d just been trying to show him your new panties and matching socks, honest. You may have also been wearing one of his shirts, and this was absolutely his weakness, and you absolutely knew that.

“My shirt, baby?” he’d cooed, pulling you into a hug and planting soft kisses on your face. “New panties too? You spoil me.”

It wouldn’t be long before he was lifting you up, effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying down on it. Then, before you had the chance to squirm or run, he was gripping your sides and lifting you over his face, where you caught your weight with your knees.

“Toji, they’re still on,” you mumble, his hands gliding up your sides to hike up his shirt. He stares directly between your legs which causes your clit to twitch.

“So?” he questions from below.

Thick hands mash into the crease of your hips, forcing your weight to fall down on his wide nose and full lips.

Your face turns the color of beets, but you ultimately have no time to be embarrassed as Toji locks his arms around your thighs.

His eyes have fluttered closed, and you can feel his shuddering breath through the cloth as he takes in your scent.

Your hands are on the headboard for stability, looking down at him, feeling your panties grow damper as he wiggles his face around, nose brushing your clit.

“Toji approved,” he says suddenly, before you feel his fat, warm tongue slide along the material of the panties, and your body lurches.

“Wh-What…?”

“I can still eat you through your panties,” he huffs, eyes popping open and catching you staring down at him. “This was the plan all along, puss.”

Your thighs shudder on either side of his head. “You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack, baby,” he mumbles, before flicking his tongue over the cloth again, nose massaging your clit, hands burying deeper into your skin. It’s all so much, you moan and rotate your hips over him.

“Wh-what made you want to try this?” you ask, biting your lip as he tugs on the material with his teeth, taking in another animalistic sniff.

“You looked so proud to show them off,” Toji grunts. “It’s a shame that they were only going to end up on the floor, huh?”

You have to agree. You’d stopped buying lingerie long ago because it would never last more than a few seconds around Toji, but you figured a new pair of panties couldn’t hurt. You just hadn’t expected this reaction out of him.

Besides, you can’t deny how good it feels to dry hump his face, there only being a thin barrier between your folds and his wet tongue, making it all the more a tease.

From then on, it became a regular tradition for Toji to “approve” your new holiday panties - but of course, the halloween ones remained his favorite.

A/N:

im sorry for pumping out these shitty short ones but im just trying to keep yall fed while we wait for the long ones ^.^

~pennjammin