#at the end of the day she is all matter to me
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norikuna · 2 days ago
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THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro
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welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !
prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.
want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !
pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)
warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)
word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams
a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩
mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!
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if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.
forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.
officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!
but did you care? not in the slightest.
you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.
the target in question? toji fushiguro.
your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.
months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.
yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.
but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.
your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.
right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.
you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.
she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.
and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.
your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.
toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.
not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.
you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.
and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.
not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.
but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.
so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.
fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.
except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.
still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.
the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.
your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.
"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.
and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.
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you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.
you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.
but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.
the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.
"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."
uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.
see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.
but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.
so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.
you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.
it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.
you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.
"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.
right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.
your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.
"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.
you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.
"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.
toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."
you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.
cute. almost.
you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.
every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.
"so, are you doing anything tonight?"
"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.
you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"
he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"
"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."
toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."
the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."
your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?
"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.
he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.
"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.
toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"
"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."
and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."
"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.
"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.
toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.
"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"
"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."
"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.
"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.
the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.
"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.
"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.
you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."
"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"
"i've been told."
tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."
time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."
toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."
you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."
"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.
"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."
you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."
"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.
"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."
"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.
back to the drawing board.
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toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?
his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.
what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?
he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.
"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.
"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."
shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.
"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.
and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.
still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.
what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.
tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.
what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.
civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?
"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.
"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."
she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"
"six. he's...not here tonight."
before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.
"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"
toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.
his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?
"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"
toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?
his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"
"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.
his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."
cute, yeah.
you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.
"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."
toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.
meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.
he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.
her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."
toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."
"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.
"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."
toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."
toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.
he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.
"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"
his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.
"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."
toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.
the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.
every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.
but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.
a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.
what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.
your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.
still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.
toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?
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you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.
half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.
he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.
you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.
with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.
you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.
with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.
you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.
perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?
you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.
but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.
you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.
"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."
there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.
your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."
each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —
"hey!"
and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.
"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."
toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.
the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.
you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?
you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.
"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.
toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.
you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."
toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.
you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"
you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."
toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."
"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.
"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.
"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"
"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.
"huh?"
"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.
you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."
"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.
"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."
"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."
toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."
something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"
you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.
it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.
you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.
"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.
toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.
"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"
you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.
you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"
you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.
"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."
"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.
"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"
you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"
your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.
"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."
he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.
that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.
his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."
"shut u-up."
"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.
his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.
his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.
"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.
"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.
you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.
and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.
"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.
you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.
"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"
toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."
he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —
"aaand, cum. now, doll."
it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.
you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"
you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"
toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."
you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"
he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"
you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."
"fuck."
in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.
and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.
"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"
that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.
he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.
you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.
toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.
you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.
and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.
but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!
"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.
rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.
toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.
"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.
"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"
each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"
you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."
"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.
"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.
"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.
your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.
your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.
he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.
you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"
"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"
"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."
it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."
and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.
"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."
toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.
"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.
in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.
before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.
ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.
damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.
toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.
"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"
toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"
504 notes · View notes
everythingne · 19 hours ago
Text
little miss wingwoman (2) - ln4
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penelope continues you meddling through you moving into lando's apartment, and saving a christmas disaster from happening.
warnings/notes: implied complicated pregnancy for kelly, most are complicated as far as i've seen (i dont have kids so. dont yell at me.), also implied family tensions for the reader, i used this recipe for the pasta they cook!! ignore im posting christmas fics after christmas i do not care <3
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Penelope gets to enact her first part of the plan a few days later. A small post-season dinner, just some drivers Max had been playing padel with earlier swinging by to help out Max with some baby stuff. You are home, of course, helping Kelly with some organization in the master bedroom.
You're struggling with one of the big thick boxes for toys, trying to build a shelf you'll have the boys carry into the room later. Most of the shelf was able to be paired together by hand, but a few screws at the end make you huff when you realize Max had taken the screwdriver.
Getting up, you wander to the bedroom where Penelope is watching the boys attempt to set up both the crib and the little handmade wooden mobile above it. Leaning on the doorway, your eyes naturally fall to Lando who is biting his tongue poking out of his lips in focus as Max curses over the screw being stripped.
Seemingly again, based on Charles' quick French quip as he digs in a box to find another screw.
"You're having about as much luck as we are." You finally find your voice, your eyes not leaving Lando's as he perks up, his tongue darting back inside as a rose dusts across his cheeks. Max sighs and hands you the screwdriver and you kneel down, jamming it in like a hammer until you basically brute force the screw into it's hole.
"And, if you don't need this, I'll be stealing it. I'm almost done with the bookshelves, we'll just have to secure them to the wall after."
"Yeah, just pull it in when you're done." Max says, thanking you for getting the screw in, before you're off to the other bedroom. Penelope stays behind for a bit, peeking into the room once or twice as you sit back down on the floor to finish the shelving.
It takes until you're on the last drawer for her to ask--
"Do you like Lando?" Penelope lingers in the doorway, and you just nod, eyebrows knitting as you get the loose screws to finally lock into place. You can hear Max and Charles celebrating getting something to work in the other room, Lando's laughter coming closer down the hall with his soft socked footsteps.
"I think Lando likes you." Penelope says with a matter of fact tone that makes you life your head, and Kelly tuts out a laugh, waving Penelope over. The girl happy smiles and runs over to hug a very sleepy Kelly, giving her mom's stomach a little kiss while she's at it.
"P, they're friends. Friends like each other." Kelly smiles, running a hand through her mini-me's hair, "you like all your friends, right?"
"But Mommy," Penelope scowls, climbing up to stand on the bed so she can lean into her mothers ear to whisper. You look down then, finishing up the last of the screws with a triumphant whistled sigh, overshadowed by Kelly's soft laughter.
"I'm being serious! I studied, and asked Maxie, and my teacher!" Penelope scowls, crossing her arms at her mother and just earning a soft laugh in reply. Looking over, you see Lando lingering in the doorway, offering you a smile as his hand to help you up.
"Pen said you need help moving this?" He asks softly, almost nervously, after helping to bring you to your feet with a warm hand in yours and resting on your bicep. You smile and nod, words failing on your lips. Your hand lingering in his longer than necessary, before you hear Penelope whispering to Kelly and you step back.
"Please," You say, smiling at the dimples that appear on his cheeks with his curvy lipped smile, "It's not heavy, just long. Max has the wall bolts in the nursery, so he can finish it in there."
"Sounds good to me, I'll get this side..." Lando walks off, and as you two move the shelves out of the master bedroom to the nursery, you cant help but laugh as the whole thing is so awkward to shuffle around. Once you get it out, Kelly lets out a cheer, and you look back to see Penelope wink.
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It's been a few days, and while Lando's off on a ski trip with Quadrant, he gives you free reign of his apartment since you really only have clothes to move in since all of your old stuff is between boxes in your childhood home and two or three boxes you bring down from Max's apartment. Lando leaves to catch his flight with a slightly nervous smile, telling you to make it feel homey, if possible. So after a Max sponsored trip to the stores, you fill the backseats of the Porsche Lando let you borrow from him with just about everything. New pots and pans to replace his old stained ones, proper cleaning supplies, and plenty of house decor.
You'd driven into France to go shopping for the bigger items, planning for some little furniture bits to be shipped around the holidays. Everything you text Lando about buying is met with enthusiastic pleases and thank yous and probably a concerning amount of money wired into your account via Venmo.
You're unloading as much as you can into the apartment, taking probably far too many trips up the elevator, when Lando calls you as you're in the midst of restocking his fridge with actual food.
"I hope this isn't going to ruin your day," He opens with and you feel dread fill your stomach at his nervous tone, because with Lando, it could, “my mom asked if I could host christmas this year… and I kinda forgot I said yes..."
"Lando." You deadpan, looking at the bare apartment, "oh my god."
"Listen! Consider this payback for the rent or something! She asked me before Miami, how was I supposed to remember after that weekend!" He groans and you cant help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you look back at all the things you'd bought.
"You have to help me not make this a horrid mess, I'd never live it down!" Lando laments, his voice pitching higher, "I'm finishing up with Quadrant early, and I'll be home soon after. I've got them all a hotel room, so we at least don't have to worry about that. But we need... well, to make my apartment look lived in."
"I got some stuff already, as you know, but I don't have to see Penelope until tomorrow so I can head back out to the shops--"
"An extra of my credit card is in my desk drawer. Consider it my gift," He stammers, "Shit, my Ma is gonna kill me if she realizes I forgot."
You laugh softly, "Listen, when are you gonna get home?"
"Tomorrow morning, maybe?" His tone is light, but the hint of panic in his tone makes you feel a little soft.
"Today, I'll get what I already bought in the house and set up. Tomorrow, when you get home, we'll figure out what else we need." You say softly and Lando thanks you profusely, promising to buy you a bottle of whatever liquor you want for your troubles, and then he ends the call. Leaving you standing in the kitchen with a soft sigh and laughter. The whole situation was just... very Lando.
It's not like you're gonna go home for Christmas.
The next day, Lando comes home to your changes. Throw blankets, pillows, pictures his mother had gifted him on the wall after forever. You're in the middle of making lunch when he stumbles in, yanking his suitcase along with him in a less than graceful fashion. You watch as his eyes widen at the little table and shoe rack in the entryway, the carpet that leads into the main area where the kitchen and living room are. The lamps that you've gotten to warm the lighting, the new dishes, the little knick knacks you must've found in a box or two in the spare room you'd set up. You've even taken all his helmets out of their cases on the floor and neatly displayed them in the case his Dad had built for him forever ago, the shelves to expand it resting on the wall besides the case.
It's... it's a damn home.
"Hey," Lando smiles as he walks in, finally seeing you in the kitchen. You blush, looking down as you realize he'd caught you watching his sweet reaction. The way you fit so nicely in his home makes something twist in his head, making him feel oddly warm, bubbly in his chest, as you smile.
"Hey yourself," You chime back as you glance up, "do you want a sandwich?"
"Sure." He says, "You... made this place really nice. I'm impressed."
"Thank you, here, grab a plate..." You smile and begin listing new things you wanna do, build the new shelves, put a christmas tree in the middle of the big bay windows in his living room, maybe some stockings under the tv, and of course string lights all over. You contemplate some cute little knick knacks on the shelves you've put up, oh! Some lights inside the shelves for his helmets to be shown off, too.
You rattle ideas all the way through finishing his food, and you settle the plates down. Luckily for Lando, you give him some gift ideas too. Things you'd seen while out at the shops, and you thankfully know most of the drivers in Monaco well enough to have an idea or two of what to get them, and you remind him to buy gifts for his parents and siblings and extended family as you set a simple sandwich and chips down in front of Lando.
Lando just blinks before sighing happily, "You're literally perfect."
It makes you nearly choke on your sandwich. And he stammers with red cheeks, "Well, you are, but I mean--I mean like... you're exactly the type of person someone who doesn't really know how to adult needs. You've got everything all figured out, y'know!"
"I'm a nanny," You deadpan, "And Kelly didn't really know much when I moved in with her when Pen was a baby. And Max's apartment... it was close to yours. Except, at least, he knew how to live like an adult and not have expired food."
Lando shrieks out a "Hey!" That makes you both laugh, and his laughter melts into yours. It all feels so natural, the way you both just stand there grinning over little sandwiches.
Hours later, after ridiculous amounts of shopping, and take-out dinner, you get to setting up the Hallmark movie you plan to turn his house into. It really doesn't take long for you and Lando to fall into a rhythm, and by the time his pauses on the couch turn into him falling asleep on the couch, you're almost done. You finish up the tree, shoving the gifts you'd bought for the Verstappen-Piquets underneath, before turning to Lando.
"Lando," you whisper, shaking his shoulder, "Hey..."
He stirs, murmuring something intelligible with a pout that almost makes you giggle. It takes another few calls of his name to coax him awake long enough to at least get him in bed. Even if he's still in jeans, you happy to save his back from the horror of sleeping sitting up like you'd done once or twice.
The next morning, Lando helps you make breakfast and with Christmas music and movies playing for some background noise, you pretty much finish up the entire apartment within the day. Lando leaves around six to get some presents for his sisters, and ends up video calling you to ask about jewelry. He gets Flo a beautiful little silver horse necklace, with a little custom plate with her horses name on the back, and after an instagram peruse you determine Cisca should get something bold in gold, and he settles on a nice piece of earrings for her. Oliver is a bit harder, so you let him call his Mom to find ideas while you finish up cleaning.
And when he comes home, you teach Lando how to wrap his gifts, somehow ending up in a big plaster for a cut he gets on his hand and tape stuck in your hair.
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, kellypiquet, and others...
yourusername: everyone say thanks max and kelly for letting me take a week off so i could move into this random guys apt and make it look like a hallmark movie
tagged: landonorris
maxverstappen: you've done the unthinkable, make lando not live like a child
user: THEY LIVE TOGETHER??
kellypiquet: i need the skill you possess to make everything magical
user1: wait why is yn living with lando and not max??? is she not penelope's nanny??
-- yourusername: i still am her nanny dw!! with baby lion on the way I got evicted (rightfully), and lando lives in the same building and had an extra room he offered :)
-- user2: wait thats so cute
-- user3: romcom moment
maxfewtrell: THATS HIS APARTMENT?
-- yourusername: yes, you're welcome
landonorris: i feel a little attacked right now
-- yourusername: don't even try to get pity points, you had month old cheese
-- landonorris: in my defense i forgot it was there
-- yourusername: IT WAS MOLDY.
-- user4: prayers for yn
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On the 22nd, you get to watch Penelope for the day since Max is finishing up meetings before his break for the holidays and Kelly's mother is over considering she's feeling quite swollen and ill. You'd been there since the beginning, with the issues and the pain. Max and Kelly had struggles, and you had taken Penelope out plenty of times for days when the two just needed a breath.
Watching Penelope so Kelly can go to an emergency appointment doesn't feel new, but it makes you so anxious.
So you and Lando have her come down to your apartment, giving Kelly a much longer hug than usual and wiping away her stressed tears as Lando shows Penelope the new decorations in the apartment.
"It'll be fine." You say softly and she nods, giving you one more tight hug before her mother brings her along. Shutting the door behind you, the way Lando holds Penelope up so she can place the star on the tree is so undoubtedly domestic to you it makes you feel warm as you shut the door.
"Penny," You call, and her head whips around as you ask, "Did Kelly make you anything for dinner?"
Lando pops Penelope down on the floor and then turns back to straighten the star. Penelope runs to give you a hug, clinging to your legs as she announces that no, she didn't get dinner-- and, she wants to cook the 'spiced' pasta with you, Lando tilts his head as he slowly makes his way over in his sweats.
"And you!" Penelope grabs Lando's hand, dragging him the rest of the way into the kitchen, "Please Yn! Please?!"
"You're sure you want the spicy pasta? 'Cause half the time I end up eating all of it and ordering you food." You place your hands on your hips, and when Penelope all but cries for it, you agree. The 'spicy pasta' is a normal corkscrew pasta with a gochujang based sauce. You typically make it a lot hotter, but because both Lando and Penelope don't like spice as much you change the plan.
Penelope helps Lando salt the almost boiling water and chop up the shallots while you root through the pantry, eventually finding all the ingredients. You'd bought them a week ago, when Lando hadn't been home, and made it for dinner so you knew you had everything. Dragging a chair over, you let Penelope jump up to sauté the shallots, onions, and garlic in butter and olive oil with Lando's supervision while you gather some spices.
"Here, P, let me get in there." You say softly, and miss Penelope's knowing smirk as she jumps down and scoots the chair out of the way. You begin to pop down a smaller scoop of gochujang than usual, whilst Lando watches curiously.
"Wait so, what is this red stuff?" He asks, grabbing the container once you close it. As you infuse the ingredients, you softly explain.
"It's gochujang," You look over to Lando to find him already intently watching you, "it's like a Korean fermented, spicy, savory paste. I used to cook a lot with my first family I worked for in London, and they loved Korean food."
Lando nodded, "Have you always been a nanny?"
"I was an Au Pair first, like a live in babysitter while I was in secondary school. But I started to nanny Penelope right around when she was born and haven't left." You look behind you, as if expecting to see Penelope, but she's gone. You and Lando share a look, almost as if saying ' of course she ran off' before he chuckles softly.
You turn back to the pan and nod, "Lando, can you grab me the green bottle next to you?"
He picks it up as you lower the heat, and your cold hands brush his warm ones as your take the bottle. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you pour a little bit of the soju in, capping it, and stirring again until it all thickens up while Lando drains the pasta noodles. He stands besides you as you let him stir slowly as you add in half and half and parmesan cheese until it's make a thick sauce.
Dipping a noodle in to taste, Lando groans, "this is actually so good."
"It's my favorite," You smile, "A good old comfort dish, since I don't have any from my family."
Lando nods and helps you add the pasta to the sauce, mix it up, and set it in three bowls. Settling down to eat in the kitchen, you watch as Lando and Penelope chat. Smiling softly, you rest your head on your hand, giggling along with Penelope's stories from dance class, ignoring the way Lando's smile makes your chest tighten.
After dinner, Penelope asks to watch the live action Cinderella. You've seen it with her in the past, so you have no issue turning it on as Lando finds a little bit of candy for Penelope to eat during the movie--like a dessert.
Once the three of you settle down, Penelope forces you three to share a blanket and you end up between her and Lando on the couch. The beginning of the movie rolls by, but soon enough Penelope is asleep in your lap, leaving just you and Lando far too close for comfort.
But it grows comforting as the movie picks up, and by the time Cinderella has met her Prince, Lando's shifted to allow you to lean against him.
Maybe watching a romantic movie with a guy who makes you flutter, if even you're not sure why, isn't the best idea because the both of you catch each other's gaze more than once. Biting lips to hide smiles and thanking the dark lights for hiding you blush.
Luckily, Penelope wakes up before the end of the movie, and Kelly comes back soon after the movie ends. You help Penelope pack up while Lando cleans up the apartment, and when you go to drop Penelope off, your eyes catching Lando's makes heat rush to your face.
Shit.
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cosmicporos · 1 day ago
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What would Arcane characters call their partner? What pet/nicknames would they use?
AHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE! Thank you anon :3
Synopsis: A lot of little cut scenarios where arcane characters call you by cute pet names!
Characters: Sevika, Vander, Silco, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor
((awkward Ekko x reader, Teasing Viktor x reader (he calls you an airhead…))
Warning: Angst for Silco, called you “Pet” but ends with comfort!
Not proofread
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Sevika
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Nicknames for you: Darling, Dear, Sweet thing, Babe, Dove.
Okay maybe I’m over sentimental but imagine her calling you Dove because you bring her so much peace in life. So you’re quite literally her little peace dove.
Sevika leaned against the bar, her mechanical arm resting on the counter as she watched you move around the room. It wasn't anything special-just you tidying up after a long day-but to her, it was everything. "You know," she started, her voice low and gravelly, "you've got this way of makin' the world feel... quieter."
You paused, glancing at her with a small smile. "Yeah? That a good thing?"
She smirked, pushing off the bar to walk toward you. "It's a damn miracle, is what it is. You don't know what it's like Dove… how loud it gets up here." She tapped her temple with a finger, her gaze softening. "But then you show up, and it's like everything just... stops."
Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in her voice, but you kept your focus on folding a stray cloth. "I didn't think I was doing anything special."
Sevika snorted, stepping closer. "That's the thing. You don't even try, and still... you're it for me. My peace. My little Dove."
Vander
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Nicknames for you: Peach, Love, Sweet Pea, Darling, Sunshine, Lass/Lad.
The Last Drop was unusually quiet. The usual clatter of mugs and background chatter of conversation was replaced by the occasional cough or sniffle from the makeshift beds spread around the common room. Powder, Mylo, Claggor, and Vi lay bundled in blankets, their fevered faces flushed as they sipped the herbal tea Vander had brewed.
"Peach," Vander called softly, his deep voice cutting through the stillness as he approached you. You were perched on a low stool, dabbing a cool cloth against Powder's forehead. He knelt beside you, resting his broad hand on your shoulder. "You've been fussin' over them all day. Why don't you take a break, huh? Let me handle things for a while."
"I'm fine," you said, though your hands trembled slightly as you wrung out the cloth."They need us."
He tilted his head, giving you that steady, knowing look of his. "And I need you to take care of yourself, Peach. You're no good to anyone if you run yourself into the ground."
Powder stirred, her small hand reaching out to grab yours. "Don't go," she mumbled, her voice weak.
You smoothed her hair back, glancing at Vander. "See? They need me."
Vander sighed, his lips twitching into a faint smile despite himself. "Stubborn as ever," he muttered. "Alright, Peach. We'll do this together, then."
Silco
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Nicknames for you: Darling, Precious, lovely, Pet, Beloved.
After Jinx’s fiasco over at Topside it was obvious Silco was more than simply stressed.
In fact tension in the room was palpable, suffocating as it weighed down on your chest. Silco's piercing gaze bore into you, his lips pressed into a thin line. You'd overstepped-at least, in his mind-and now his sharp tongue was letting you know it.
"Stay out of matters you don't understand, pet," he snapped, the word cutting and cold as it left his mouth.
You flinched, the sting of his words settling deep. Your jaw clenched, and you refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the cracked edge of the table.
“I was—I was only thinking about Jinx.” You gulped down the bile that burned in your throat. “Temporary keeping her from missions is keeping her safe.” You spoke finally looking up at him with your wet pathetic eyes.
The silence that followed was deafening. Silco's breath hitched as he realized what he'd said, the regret settling in almost immediately. His tone had been cruel, and the look on your face drove a pang of guilt through his chest.
“I apologize…” he said softly, his voice no longer harsh. "That was... uncalled for." He spoke as he stood up, fixing his cuffs as he walks over towards you.
Silco stepped closer until he was within arm's reach. "I shouldn't have said that. You didn't deserve it," he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You mean too much to me for me to speak to you that way."
When you still didn't respond, he hesitated for a moment before tilting your chin up with his gloved fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his mismatched ones.
"Forgive me," he whispered, his tone sincere. "You are not my pet. You are my beloved. The only one who stands beside me, who understands me."
Caitlyn
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Nicknames for you: Petal, Cheeky one, Muffin, Trouble, Dearest.
Flour completely dusted the countertop and your face as you tried to knead the dough. Caitlyn stood across from you, her sleeves rolled up, an amused smile playing on her lips.
"Petal," she said, tilting her head, "you're supposed to knead it, not wrestle it."
You huffed, brushing flour from your cheek. “It's sticking to my hands! I’m not sure how else I’m supposed to tackle this.”
Caitlyn chuckled and walked over, gently taking your hands in hers. "Here, let me show you." She guided your movements, her hands warm and steady.
When the dough finally started to cooperate, you couldn't resist smearing a bit of flour on her cheek. She froze, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Trouble," she murmured, her voice teasing.
You grinned, backing away. "You love it."
Her soft laugh filled the kitchen as she grabbed a handful of flour. "Oh, I do. But you're not getting away with that."
Ekko
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Nicknames for you: Firefly, Sugar, babe, baby, Cutie
You sat on a spinning chair in ekko’s workshop mindlessly spinning while watching him work. He was trying to fix a circuit board, but his focus seemed to drift in your direction. You caught him glancing at you a few times, his brow furrowed as though he was thinking of something important.
After a moment of silence, Ekko cleared his throat, his usual confidence wavering slightly. He set down his tools and looked at you with a small smile, hands shoved into his pockets. "Hey, uh... can I tell you something?" he asked, voice a little too casual.
You raised an eyebrow at his sudden and strange behavior. "Sure. What's up?"
He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "Well, I've been meaning to call you something... I dunno, it's just, uh, you're always so sweet, you know?" He glanced up at you briefly, cheeks turning faintly pink. “So, I was thinking... Sugar?"
There was a long, awkward pause. You blinked, processing the nickname, unsure how to respond. "Sugar?" you repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Really?"
Ekko's face reddened even more. "Yeah, I mean-because, uh, you're sweet... like sugar? You know?" He shrugged, clearly flustered now. "It's not like, weird, right?"
You couldn't help it you laughed, the sound light and teasing, but not unkind. "I don't know, Ekko. It's a bit... unexpected," you said, still grinning.
His gaze shifted, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Okay, okay, I get it. That was dumb, huh? Just trying to be smooth, but I guess it's not my thing." He shifted uncomfortably.
against his arm, your smile softening. "It's cute," you said, voice warm. "But I think you can do better."
He met your eyes, a sheepish grin finally breaking through his awkwardness. "Yeah? You think so?…Well, I'll keep working on it then."
Viktor
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Nicknames for you: Beautiful, Trinket, Dearest, Cheeky, Airhead, Sweetling.
You were fiddling with a complicated piece of tech, the gears and wires all tangled in a way that made your focus drift. Viktor stood beside you, watching with a raised eyebrow as you muttered to yourself.
"Careful, darling," he teased with a sly smile, his voice smooth and mature. "An airhead might break something important."
You shot him a playful glare, a little flustered. “I'm not an airhead! Besides…I'm working on it!" you said, trying to hide the embarrassment in your voice.
Viktor chuckled, reaching over and gently fixing the wires with practiced hands. His tone softened as he met your gaze. "I didn't mean it, Sweetling. You're far from an airhead. You just... get a little lost in your thoughts sometimes." He smiled warmly. “And I think it's kind of endearing."
You felt your heart warm at his change in tone, the teasing replaced by something far more tender. "Geez thanks, Viktor." You pouted and sighed out quietly.
He smiled and chuckled softly, his hand now brushing against yours. "Anything for you, Sweetling."
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HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT<3 thanks so much for all the support on my last post :>
FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST AND COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED IT! (I love reading comments and any feedback!)
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babey-fruit-bat · 2 days ago
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Ut te mihi Juno
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Caracalla X F! Reader
Summary: Caracalla presents a surprise gift for your wedding, hoping it will be to your liking Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, Happy Winter Solstice, Yule, and glad tidings to all my followers or readers! Hoping you have a delightful holiday season no matter what it looks likes or who you celebrate with!
🕊️🌿💍🕊️🌿💍🕊️🌿💍🕊️🌿💍🕊️🌿💍🕊️🌿
The dawn cascaded through the large windows of your room in the imperial palace. Your gaze drifted open to the golden embroidered gown hanging in the windowsill. There wasn't much time to ponder the day's events as your handmaids flooded the room preparing a steaming bath with lily, rose and locus. You were ushered in as breakfast was brought up. A spread of cheeses, breads, fruits and a light wine was served, and as you ate your mind drifted to the memory of Caracalla. The first day you met so vivid in your mind, as if it was yesterday. It was a grueling process of selection, that quickly became easy within the first week of your arrival. You were selected along with five other noblewomen as choices for the young emperor to sort from and select a bride. You'd attended meetings, parties, formal and informal gatherings both as a group and an individual to see how well he might take to each of you. By the end of the week, it was time to attend the first gladiator tournament. You'd accompanied him as a group to not only show off his selection of brides, but to view how each of you would attend an event he cherished so much. You'd been fitted in a cobalt gown and filed in last, Caracalla standing by as each lady found their seat before taking his own. The heavy fabric snagged beneath your sandal, and you found yourself caught in his arms before your soft skin could be marred by the rough granite of the Coliseum. His grip lingered on your body for a few moments before he released you to find your seat.
It was practically tangible the jealousy that coursed through each womans veins as he kept turning to sneak glances at you during the game- the feel of your prefect skin burned into his mind. He had to have you. From that day forth an obsession with you erupted from within him. He could not eat, speak, nor dream without his brain plagued by your scent. He surprised the Senate by having every other noblewoman removed from his party of admirers. He desired only you to accompany him, always insisting you take his arm. Geta, who wished to consider a more rational proceeding had to share his concerns to his brother, who promptly shut him down, "She is entirely perfect- she fit beneath my arm as if the Gods crafted her just for me- you just don't understand." Despite initial discrepancies no one could deter Caracalla- he was determined to make you his empress, his eternal companion, his woman. His love for you had become all consuming- and the wedding arrangements consumed much of his spare time. He consulted you for most of it, agreeing to a winter wedding in January- to honor the Goddess, Juno, in hopes of a blessed and fruitful union. Each detail had been crafted to honor of you both. An ornate hall was trimmed in gold, and sapphires glittered from every corner of the ceiling. White silks lined the floors underneath tables with rows upon rows of the finest delicacies. Vases with floating candles and peacock feathers lined the tables. The opulence and detail in each piece was nearly overwhelming to your senses.
Billows of incense wafted through the temple, scents of frankincense, myrrh, and pine delighted your senses as you made your way to the holding room before the wedding. You slipped into your gown the white fabric melting onto your skin in silken pleats. Your maids tended to any finishing details adorning you with a collared necklace encrusted with diamonds and sapphires from the far East- the last gift delivered to your room from Caracalla before you'd become his. The groom paced frantically around the room, servants sent away, just him, his brother, and beloved pet- Dondas. He was brought along to help ease Calla's growing anxiety, but not about his marriage to you. He tugged at the golden pieces littering his garb groaning for time to move faster. The deep red robes swished around his feet clinking and jangling softly as his pace increased. "Brother, you've checked with the servants twice and you've ensured everything's been delivered?" Geta rose with a huff, his wine nearly sloshing out of his cup. "Yes, Carcalla, she's right here, the servants just brought her in as you finished dressing."
They both ventured over to a stand containing a large dome covered in cloth. Dondas peered closer trying to uncover it with the familiar sound of a creature hidden from view. "And you're sure she'll like this brother? I have yet to see you acquaint your darling lover with the stables or any of the animals' grounds- perhaps she will not share your love of beasts."
"You speak in lies and doubt, Geta, you do not see her eyes, powerful, understanding, and unyielding... like Dondas." He smiled looking to his Capuchin- who squeaked in amusement nibbling on the bowl of nuts and fruit specially brought to him. The pair paused gazing at the creature, happily unaware of the impeding events about to unfold. "Right... I suppose you would know her best- I only hope once she weds you, she does not have to vie for your attention alongside Dondas." Geta said with a lilt, focus back on his brother. "Certainly not- My jewel will be the most coveted in Rome! The most envied and cared for in imperial history- Just as Dondas is. I have no doubt she'll accept this offering as well, one perfect enough for my wife." "And there's no time like the present- Come now Caracalla, the priest is ready to start." With that, Geta guided him to the altar to start the ceremony. Time seemed to stand still as you glided down the aisle. Guests lined the rows of seats eager to catch a view at the empire's newest family member. As you reached the end of the aisle Caracalla took your hands in his, both repeating your vows in tender speech and promise. His warm hands felt firm on your hips as he pulled you in for a feverish kiss, desperate to finally claim you as his own. An astounding array of cheers followed as guests poured into the receiving hall quickly being served a bountiful round of courses and drink upon drink was filled and refilled.
Before the night concluded and guests started to make their way home Carcalla stood before the crowd determined to capture everyone's attention. He had indulged heavily in the party's whimsy and substances passed around on sliver platters, vases, and cups. You'd had your fair share too ending up in your new husbands' arms most of the night mimicking the stories spread far and wide about young lovers and their affectionate nature. "Great celebrates! We thank you for coming in celebration of Rome's glory, of victory, and great love found within it-" A round of cheers and raised glasses concurred with Calla's statement. "I wish to present my wife with one more precious gift. One more declaration before the festivities end, and I have you, my dear empress all to myself this night." His gaze met yours and darkened as low murmurs and a few celebratory cheers were heard from the husbands in the hall. Dondas leapt up to join him on his shoulder, chittering before ruffling his master's hair. "Bring her in, I cannot wait any longer for this!"
A fanfare of servants was summoned into the room by horns throwing a parade of flower petals down to meet you, leaning down where to sat until the strange dome was eye level. You carefully removed the sheet to find the most precious creature. Another Capuchin monkey, a female, dressed in a gown identical to your wedding gown, adorned with a ribbon tied loosely around her neck. The tiny moneys eyes peered into yours seeking warmth and refuge after spending so much of her day kept away from the festivities. You popped the latch as quickly as possible and cradled her close to your chest. "Oh, Caracalla, I really don't know what to say-" His eyes flickered with doubt for a moment, his mind returning to the words of his bother earlier. "She's just perfect! Not only for I, but Dondas, now he will also have a dear friend to spend his days with!" Your face was brighter than ever as Dondas crawled his way up to your shoulder to sneak a peek at your new pet. "We will have to name her, a name fitting for an imperial pet, a title she'll be worthy of..." Calla paused searching his drunken brain for names befitting a creature meant to represent so much to him. "What about... Juno?"
He paused to ponder your choice ""Hmm, Juno? As in the queen of the Gods?" "Yes, it's perfect- Juno will favor us as we have honored and favored her during our union- our future will be blessed, happy." Your decree fell to his ears in a hushed tone, keeping the intimate moment between yourselves and pets private from the prying ears of guests. "It really is perfect, isn't it?" He agreed taking your hand in his pressing a soft kiss to inside of your palm. Calla stood once more on top of the table, Geta rolling his eyes hoping he'd fall off. Caracalla swayed steadying himself before commanding the crowd to his attentions again. Your eyes glittered in amusement with his display of affection and devotion.
"Citizens- we delight in sharing our other newest imperial member with you tonight- Hail Juno!"
@certifiedcodbabygirl @s-lverwing
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norrisainz33 · 9 hours ago
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home for the holidays || ls18
☆ summary: lance and his partner start a new chapter now that the season is over and take their relationship to the next level
☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader
☆ fc & warnings: none
☆ requested: nope! just a short one bc i don’t see enough lance fics so wanted to write one!!
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has made a post
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liked by lance_stroll, landonorris, carmenmundt, yourbff, fernandoalo_official and 128,134 others
ynuser: and just like that - the 2024 season has come to an end. this was a tough one but no matter what i am proud of the team and proud of lance. see all you beautiful people again in march 🤍
view all 324 comments
astonmartinf1: see you soon y/n/n! we love you ❤️
ynuser: 🤍 you more admin
user1: you are so real for posting the vegas pics of lance
lance_stroll: i love you 😘
ynuser: and i love you 🥹
user4: mama y papa
user2: i’m going to miss this silly season and seeing you practically every weekend smh
francisca.cgomes: see you sooner than march please😭
ynuser: you know i can’t go more than a couple weeks without you 😔
user44: can lance fight?
scottyjames1: no
user44: SCREMING
ynuser has posted to their story
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user1: most canadian thing i’ve ever seen
lance_stroll: missed this and missed you darling
ynuser: i missed you more lance. i’m overjoyed to be back 🤍
yourbff: i’m so glad you and lancey are finally home
ynuser: me too! this season was a long one 😩
yourbff: you both are stronger than i
ynuser: i’m not sure how we made it honestly! but it’s time for new beginnings and rest 🫶🏻
user2: time for some much deserved relaxation
user6: just saw the f1 secret santa and can’t stop thinking about how good of gift giver lance is and how he probably got you the best gifts ever
fernandoalo_official: happy holidays mi amiga
ynuser: gracias nando! i hope you have the best break with all of those you love most 🤍
user3: i hope you have the best break y/n
ynuser has posted to their story
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yourbff: i can’t wait to visit you in your new home!!!
ynuser: i can’t wait for you to visit!! one of the spare bedrooms has your name on it bestie
user11: ahhh congrats y/n!!!
carmenmundt: congrats on your and lances new home!! looking forward to visiting 😘
ynuser: thank you carmen! i miss you sm already. please come visit soon 🤍
user14: so so happy for you and lance. end game fr
lance_stroll: remind me why i thought moving right after the season ended was a good idea
ynuser: you said, and i quote, “i want to be home for the holidays and host all the people i love in our home.”
lance_stroll: well when you put it like that….
cholestroll: yayyayayay!!!!! can’t wait to see it in a few days
ynuser: can’t wait to see you and scotty and the lovely little bug soon. it’s been too long
astonmartinf1: cheers to new beginnings ✨
lance_stroll posted to his story
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chloestroll: the tree is so cuteeeeee oh i love it
lance_stroll: it is ! y/n is very excited for the holidays
chloestroll: as she should be!! do you have everything set?
lance_stroll: everything should be set up according to plan! im beyond nervous though
chloestroll: don’t be!! it’s going to alllll be ok
user3: y/n is so cute
scottyjames31: glad she’s getting you into the holiday spirit
lance_stroll: between y/n and chloe there’s more than enough holiday spirit! we’ve got hanukah and christmas covered over here
user4: pookie christmas lets goooo
ynuser: i am having the most fun decorating our new house 🫶🏻
lance_stroll: me too my love. building this life with you is everything i could ask for and more ❤️
user5: i’m glad you’re getting the time to relax lancey. you deserve it after this season
lance_stroll has posted to his story
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user2: holy crap this is beautiful?????? and she managed this right after you two moved in???? get this girl an award
fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful! can’t wait to hear about how your evening goes
lance_stroll: you’ll be one of the first to know ❤️
user6: this called me broke in about 800 different languages
pierregasly: WOW! can i hire y/n to decorate my house?
lance_stroll: for a hefty price 😉
user9: you better marry this girl i s2g
ynuser: thank you 🥹 🤍😘🎄
lance_stroll: no thank YOU gorgeous! i am so thankful to have you help me host the holidays ❤️
ynuser: 😭 i love being a part of your family lance
lance_stroll: we all love you so very much ❤️
ynuser: you’re going to make me cry 🥹
chloestroll: eeeeek!!!!!! today is THE day 🤍🤍🤍🤍
lance_stroll: she doesn’t suspect a thing 😍
user12: her outfit is everything ??? literal angel
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ynuser: tonight may have been the best night of my life. wishing you the happiest of holidays from the future mr and mrs stroll ❤️
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user18: this is so important to me you have no idea
chloestroll: welcome to the family sis 😘
ynuser: sis 😭 oh i love you chloe
georgerussell63: 🥹 congrats! you two make the perfect couple
ynuser: thank you georgie ❤️
fernandoalo_official: felicidades mis amigos
ynuser: gracias por todo nando 🫶🏻
user32: my mom and dad are getting married im overjoyed
lance_stroll: i can’t wait to make you my wife
ynuser: and i can’t wait for you to be my husband 😘
user23: you look so good in white
astonmartinf1: best news we’ve seen all day
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated.
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 days ago
Text
Caracalla in a relationship - sfw/nsfw
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Caracalla x younger!reader
warning : smutish (not too graphic), cuddling, kissing, tiny comfort, Caracalla is his own tiny warning
info : Caracalla as sweet as he is is a double-edged sword on the one hand gentle and playful on the other obsessive and possessive now i hope you enjoy reading ;) There will be also one with an older!reader
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SFW
°From the moment it became clear that he and his brother needed an heir, Caracalla also had to choose a wife, a bride from the surrounding areas, one that made the most political sense. Even though his interests lay elsewhere and he had gotten into arguments with his brother, even in his lucid moments he had to realize that Geta was right, ,,Then help me find my wife, brother” he had asked him, let go of Dundus and knew that even his madness could not last forever, that in the moments when he was in charge, he had to take responsibility, as awful as it may seem.
A responsibility he searched through for weeks, from mosaic pictures to written letters to the day they had parties organized and invited all the princesses and daughters who had royal blood to show, ,,We've been sitting here for hours now, are you even paying attention?” he hardly noticed his brother's question. Hours had passed since the party and everything still seemed to have made no progress until the blue eyes found something furry in the crowd, rising wordlessly the blond walked through the crowd with a curious look. Ignoring the guests, almost shoving them aside, he found himself in the room with her, pretty and delicate, a look of joy and on her lap a tiger cub, ,,What's his name?” Caracalla wanted to know and knelt down to her.
°With this question, two animals and coins flowing, the emperor had apparently found his wife. Although only a little younger, this seemed to suit the emperor more, the joy and energy he had during his fits seemed to be well controlled by his wife, ,,Sometimes he's a playful, brutal child just to be my husband again, but I love him just the way he is, believe me Geta,” she assured her brother-in-law. She knew how important his brother was to Geta and tried to fulfill this role as best she could, starting with the morning make-up, which usually ended in a laughing embrace and Caracalla giving her a kiss on the cheek.
°Especially the cuddling and the short kisses seemed to calm Caracalla down when something didn't go the way he wanted it to. Whether it was during a defeat in the Colosseum, at a party when the music wasn't right or even when Dundus didn't listen to him, ,,We'll manage, I promise," she always said and her hand slid to his, her smile lighting him up before he gave her a short but heartfelt kiss, giggling when his make-up stuck to her skin only to wipe it away somewhat clumsily with his toga. But as long as he smiled and she had him, they would manage any of his fits together.
°His hand wouldn't leave hers, no matter if it was at breakfast, where they often played with the food and fed Dundus, which Geta let pass with a small smile. ,,I have a surprise today at the Coloseum,” Caracalla said, sharing her joy and curiosity as they entered the Coloseum together, the inhabitants celebrating the empress and sharing her love of animal fights. A fight in which she clung to Caracalla who clung to her as they let tigers into the ring, ,,You will win my pretty cats!” she shouted and not only Caracalla but also the spectators joined in as the feline predators attacked the gladiators. There were little surprises of new collars for her pet or she gave Caracalla a little new dress for Dundus it was a level on which the two got along by day as well as by night...
NSFW
°They loved each other that was out of the question, above all the how, when and where was something that set Caracalla apart from his brother. As much as he lost himself in his mind, lost himself too much in the madness, the more he needed his wife with him, on him and above all in his bedchamber. When torches illuminate the two of them, Caracalla not only wants to be entertained, he also wants to enjoy earthly pleasures together with his wife. With sweet grapes and a little wine, which is all just a little hesitation of the big picture before his hands lay on her and the first thing he does is to undress her, ,,You're even more beautiful without it!" he chuckled and looked at her body in front of him as if spellbound.
°Even though she was only a little younger than him, he took his role and especially his power seriously on nights like this, ,,Trust your emperor, it'll be fun,” he promised before kissing his way down her body, even though there was always a smile on his lips, there was a look of lust in his eyes, a silent desire for her and no one else. She was his and not his brother's, she was his alone and no one else's, a thing he made clear to her with every kiss that turned into a little bite, every little bite marring her skin and turning him on more and more when he saw what he had done to her.
°Caracalla is someone who needs entertainment, whether it's new games in the coloseum or new methods in the bedroom, everything that amuses the blond needs to be played out. He won't stop in the bedroom either, demanding to try it out rather than responding to his wife, ,,You'll look beautiful with the rope like my prey,” he announced, holding out the rope and showing her the parchments with various pictures and instructions. Whether of ropes his blue eyes looked fascinated as her body was wrapped with it, as the marks remained on her skin and he kissed her, knowing that he could always push her a little further because in the end he was still the Emperor of Rome and she his wife.
°Up to daggers and blood, he would try anything. Watching the blade press against her naked body a little harder and harder, watching her skin break slightly as her hips pushed harder against hers, “Beautiful!“ he groaned and her whimpers were drowned in his licking as he experienced his coloseum tears, the desire finally soothing, finally feeling the blood on his hands as he stroked the wounds, as he bit her and heard her sweet sounds, it was like music to his ears, the best concert, the best entertainment his beloved wife could give him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @qardasngan , @somepallings , @songbirdmunson , @sweeteststing
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4milly · 13 hours ago
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childish - jey u.
parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader
warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),
word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)
you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…
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the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.
jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.
"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.
the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.
all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.
"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.
she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.
a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.
you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.
your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.
the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch. 
for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.
you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.
yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.
"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor
the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"
speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.
"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."
"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"
"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"
you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"
"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise
"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."
jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.
he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"
jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"
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the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.
the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.
jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.
you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.
"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands
"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.
"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.
"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.
"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"
you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.
it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.
jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.
all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.
after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.
nothing more.
He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.
to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”
you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.
the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.
Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.
slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.
jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.
"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."
you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.
jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.
slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"
you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.
his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.
you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.
"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."
he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.
"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."
jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"
"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"
you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.
"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won
as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.
the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.
you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.
right where you belonged.
"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."
jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.
he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."
your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.
he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.
"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.
Jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."
each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.
"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.
"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.
"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"
"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic
jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.
you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.
"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."
you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."
"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.
you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.
he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "don’t let these little things mess with us. we're gonna start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."
his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.
jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.
his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."
you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.
yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?
right?
don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3
tags:
@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku
merry christmas! 💘
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wlwxreader · 2 days ago
Text
Not a Crush
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not my gif
Jackie Taylor x fem!reader
Summary: despite what the entire team thinks, Jackie doesn’t have a crush on you. So why does it make her skin crawl when she sees a guy trying to flirt with you?
Warning(s): jealous!Jackie, possessive!Jackie, oblivious!reader, pre-crash!Jackie, Nat being a little shit, simp!Jackie
Word count: 2.6k
Masterlist: tba
No matter how much the team teased her about it, Jackie Taylor did not have a crush on you.
Did she like your soft smile? Yes. Could she spend days on end listening to a recording of your cheerful and sweet laugh? Why, of course. Did her heart stop whenever you looked at her a second too long? Maybe, but it was only because she thought you were beautiful —in a platonic way.
She did not like you. She didn’t think of you every night before she went to bed. Nope. Not at all. And Nat could shove her own words up her ass, because she sure as hell wasn’t a simp for you.
Yeah, as if.
“Hey,” you waved your hand in the air as you walked towards the field. You had just changed into your football uniform, and looked around. “Is everyone ready for practice?”
“Yeah,” Nat said, stretching her arms. “We were waiting for you for like, I don’t know, ten minutes.”
“You’re the last one. You know what that means,” Van smirked at you, and if it wasn’t for Tai’s presence next to them, you would have walked over to smack them in the face.
“Gotta run for ten minutes around the field,” Lottie said in a singsong voice. You narrowed your eyes at her.
“I’m gonna get you, Matthews,” you threatened with mock anger.
“What’s going on?” Jackie, who had been talking to coach Ben about something, asked. Her smile grew a little bigger when she noticed you within the other team players, and you swear you heard Nat and Shauna giggle to each other.
“Y/N was last,” Nat said. “She has to run for ten minutes.”
“Okay, fine—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jackie said. Her voice, always soft and bright, was commanding. She wasn’t the Jackie who played around anymore, she was captain Jackie, and everyone in the team knew it.
“What?” Van asked, offended. They looked between the both of you, mouth ajar. “That’s not fair! It’s a tradition you started, Jackie. Last one has in the field during practice has to run while the others train. Y/N was the last one today.”
“Enough, Palmer,” Jackie gave them a stern look. “Y/N was late because of me.”
You gave her a surprised look, taken aback by her lie. You should not have been bewildered, though— Jackie always had your back no matter what, using her easy charm to cover up for your slip-ups
“Making out before practice?” Nat asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Jackie’s cheeks turned a bright red color, but she didn’t dare to look at you. Instead, she clapped her hands together a few times, and everyone around sobered up.
“Divide yourself into two teams,” Jackie raised her voice. “Whoever team wins, gets to rest while the others run a lap.”
Everyone groaned, looking around to start to form the groups, trying to be as equitative as possible.
“Shauna, you’re captain of team green. Team blue is my team,” Jackie called, and the brown eyed woman nodded, wasting no time to craft the perfect team in her mind as she looked at everyone in the field.
“Okay, cool—”
“Y/N,” Jackie interrupted her best friend. “You’re on my team.”
“And in her heart,” whispered Nat.
Thankfully, neither Jackie nor you hear it.
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If Jackie did not like you, she obviously also didn’t feel any ownership over you. She wasn’t jealous, she wasn’t possessive; there was no point in being those things, as you were both just two good friends.
But sometimes, someone would walk up to you and Jackie forgot her inner mantra, throwing it out the window of her mind. The person would smirk and lean in close, feigning they could not hear what you were saying, and Jackie would feel something dark and uncomfortable burning inside of her.
Sure, you weren’t hers, but that didn’t mean anyone had the right to talk to you, so obviously trying to flirt it was painful to observe.
They didn’t have the right because— because— well, because she said so.
“Hey, Y/N,” Jackie said, walking up to your locker. 
Her voice was high-pitched, and you turned to look at her. Anyone else would have thought nothing of her tone, but you knew her; it was the same voice she used when she wanted to be rude but knew she couldn’t.
“Hi, Jackie,” you said, completely forgetting about the man who was talking to you about the chemistry test you both had next week.
Jackie walked with purpose, and she stood in front of you. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her body. You sighed in relief; it was starting to get cold, and her warmth was welcomed.
The woman smiled when you rested your head on her shoulder, and big green eyes twinkling as she started the man down.
“What were you talking about?” she asked, even though she wasn’t interested in the least. She knew how men were— she suffered their unwanted advances on the daily. It was all an act to get you on their bed.
“Oh,” the man said, clearing his throat. “We were discussing the next chemistry exam—”
“Well, I hope you study hard. Bye.”
You barely had time to close your locker before Jackie was pulling you away from that man.
“Hey— Jackie,” you complained, pulling your books closer to your chest. “What was that for?”
“That boy is a womanizer,” Jackie said through gritted teeth. “He just wanted to get in your panties.”
“You think?” you asked, turning slightly to look at the boy, who was leaning against your locker and staring at you. When he saw you looking back, he smirked and waved. “I think he just wants help studying.”
“You’re too naïve,” the blonde said. “He has tried that same trick with half the school.”
“Really?” you whispered conspicuously. “I thought he was just being friendly.”
Jackie shook her head, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. Her arm was still around you, and it made you walk awkwardly. You still didn’t complain.
“Boys are never friendly just because, Y/N,” she said. “They only got one thing on their mind.”
“Kissing?” you raised an eyebrow at her.
Jackie’s laugh could be heard all around the halls, a melodic sound that carried you out of the building.
“Every year it gets colder earlier,” you complained, shivering slightly.
“Are you cold?” Jackie asked, finally pulling away. You almost moaned in complain at the lack of warmth on your side, but before you could voice your discomfort, a weight was placed on your shoulders.
You looked to your side to see Jackie’s team letterman jacket resting over you. You smiled, putting your books in one hand to put the sleeve on.
“Thank you,” you said, with genuine gratitude. Jackie shook her head, simply reaching over to grab your books so you fully put on the jacket.
“Wanna hang out in the field?” she asked. Once you had the jacket on, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders again, because she wanted to but most importantly, because she could.
“The one time we don’t have to train, and you still wanna go over there,” you rolled your eyes, but followed her steps when she changed course.
She laughed again, turning to look at you. With bright big eyes, and lips pulled into a tight smile, you thought no one would ever be as pretty as she was.
As you walked, Jackie peaked behind you and saw the same man, looking over with frowned eyes. As she heard you talking about your day, she raised her arm enough for everyone to see the back of your jacket, where Taylor stood proudly over her team number.
She’s wearing my jacket, not yours. Dipshit.
To say she was ecstatic at his scolf was an understatement.
Yeah, she thought, let everyone know she only wears my number. Let everyone know she’s mine.
That time, she didn’t try to correct herself.
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“I think Jackie has a crush on me.”
Van, who was tying up their cleats, stopped suddenly.
“Uh?” they asked, blinking a few times.
“I—” you cleared your throat, your cheeks suddenly turning red. “I think she might like like me.”
“Oh, shit,” Van said, rubbing their face.
“Did— did I say something wrong?”
“Yes!” Van let go of the laces, irritated. “You weren’t supposed to find out until November. You just lost me ten bucks!” they groaned. “Thanks, buddy.”
“What?” you gave them a puzzling look. “Wait— you have bet on me?”
“No,” Van waved their hands around. “Not on you. On your inability to see what’s happening right in front of your face, to be exact.”
“Okay, rude,” you said. “I’m not that oblivious.”
“Oh, no. Of course not,” Van said. Their tone was laced with sarcasm. “You joined the team two years ago, and only now you have realized.”
“Wait, she has liked me for two years?” you asked in a whisper.
“Duh,” Van gave you a long look. “Jesus, you’re a lost cause.”
“Screw you.”
“What made you realize?” Van asked, with genuine curiosity. They put their feet back down on the ground, leaning over the bench to look at you.
“She, um—” you looked around, making sure no one else was in the changing room. Feeling guilty over spilling such deep secrets, you moved over and sat down next to Van, so no one else would hear. “She kind of lied, the other day. So I wouldn’t have to run around the field.”
“She always lies,” Van scoffed.
“Jackie never lies,” you said, firmly. You gave the redhead a look, one that would have been threatening if it wasn’t coming from you. “She’s an honest person.”
Van chuckled. “She will lie to save your ass,” they said. “Because she’s the fattest crush on you.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
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After practice a week later, instead of going back to the changing room with the rest of the team, you grabbed Jackie and pulled at her hand, forcing her to move toward the bleachers. She went willingly, allowing you to take her wherever it was that you wanted her to be.
She would walk through fire if it meant holding your hand.
In a platonic way, of course.
“Jackie,” you said in a serious tone. You took a deep breath, and stared into big green eyes who looked back with passion. “We need to talk.”
She frowned her eyebrows, quickly picking up on your mood swing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, moving closer.
Jackie’s hand rested on your waist when she saw you starting to pull away. She hated it; hated whenever there was distance between the two of you. She wanted you close to her always, holding your hand and laughing with you.
“I think— I think you might be interested in someone.”
Jackie gave you a puzzling look. Her, being into someone? Not a chance.
“What are you talking about, Y/N?” She asked, as confused as she has ever been.
“Don’t make me say it, please,” you moaned, like a petulant toddler. “This is embarrassing.”
“Well, I can’t read your mind, can I?”
You looked away from her, incapable of looking into her eyes as you spoke.
“I think I might like someone, too.”
Jackie froze at your words. Her jaw dropped, eyes open so wide it looked like they might jump out of their sockets.
“You…” she gave a bewildered look. “You like someone?”
You nodded, and her hand tightened on your waist, as if she needed some support to keep her from falling over.
“This can’t be happening,” she whispered, closing her eyes. You gave her a concerned look.
“Jackie—”
“Is it that boy from the locker? The one who kept trying to flirt with you?”
“No. It’s…” you cleared your throat. “It’s not a boy.”
“Oh, no,” Jackie blinked away the white spots that were starting to form on her vision. “Nat? Tai? Or—” she gasped, looking at you accusingly. “Don’t tell me it’s Shauna.”
“Why would it be— No! It’s not Shauna.”
“It’s not?” she gave you a look. “Thank god.”
“It’s you,” you whispered.
“Me?” Jackie asked, trying to make sure she had heard you properly. “You like me. Me.”
“Yeah. I like you, Jackie.”
She leaned in close to you, looking at your lips. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for her kiss. Instead, you felt her weight over you, literally on you.
“Jackie? Oh my god!”
Safe to say, it took the Yellowjackets over a month to get over the little spectacle you and coach Ben had pulled off when Jackie fainted.
You had wanted to keep it a secret, of course— Class Queen and captain of the football team, fainting because a girl had confessed their feelings to her? The rumor would be too juicy. But you also couldn’t control yourself when Jackie fell on top of you, eyes closed and mouth open, and it took you approximately ten seconds to take all the information in before you were screaming for help.
The help came in the form of Ben, who had come over running. He frantically looked at the team captain, laying on the grass as you fanned her with your hand, and he ran back inside to get Bill’s help.
It didn’t take long for the girls to come out of the changing room, and soon enough they pulled the pieces together; your conversation with Van they had told the entire team (which had led to Tai waving around fifteen ten dollar bills around the showers), your nervous attitude over practice, the tension they had felt before they left the two of you alone…
“Holy shit,” Nat said, smirking as you tried to wake Jackie up. “She fainted. She actually fainted.”
The story soon spread, faster and more explosive than gunpowder around fire. Soon enough, Jackie Taylor’s untaintable reputation got washed away by the new knowledge that she was a hopeless romantic.
Two months later, people would still whisper about Jackie whenever she walked down the corridors of Wiskayok High School.
“You think you will still be Class Queen after… what happened?” you asked, taking notice of how many students were staring at the two of you.
“Of course,” she smiled that charming smile you loved so much. “I’m Jackie Taylor, baby. This highschool would be nothing without me.”
“You’re too full of it,” you rolled your eyes.
She wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you in close to her. She kissed your cheek, smiling.
“It doesn’t bother you?” you asked once you reached your locker. “Y’know, everyone still talking about it?”
“Let them talk. They aren’t mean, anyways,” Jackie said, raising her shoulders. You gave her a look; she would never notice just how many people thought ill of her. She thought too kindly of the world, but that made it two of you. “As long as it makes them talk about how you’re my girlfriend, I don’t care.”
You put the books you no longer needed back into your locker, and once you closed it, she pressed you against it.
When her lips pressed against yours, you stopped worrying about the whispers and the teasing from the team; Jackie was right.
Let them talk.
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chrystal-ink · 3 days ago
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Shadvent calendar Day 24
Shadow x GN Reader
Mistletoe
Shadow was never one for PDA. in fact you two barley held hands whenever other people were around if he could help it. however, tonight the cocktails were flowing and the spirit of Christmas was in the air.
The two of you had managed to miss each other all night. getting wrapped up in conversations with other people, giving out gifts, and avoiding the mistletoe hung ever so delicately in the living room for all to see. You were consciously avoiding it knowing that Shadow did not want to kiss in front of a room full of his closest friends, coworkers, acquaintances, and sonic.
Still he looked so nice in his tux and you knew that he had been eyeing you all night. but attraction or not you were going to respect his boundaries, you would just have to make up for it later.
Shadow on the other hand was craving the touch of your lips right about now. Denied their rightful place upon his earlier in the evening his distain for witnesses was thrown to the wind. You looked incredible tonight and the world needed to know that you were taken, that your lips were for his and his alone.
unfortunately he was caught up in a meaningless conversation with one of his coworker's and he could not get out of it. he had to do something and quick. signaling to Rouge he requested her to get him out of there.
Luckily they had been working together for so long that she understood immediately what he was trying to communicate. Not wasting a moment Rouge swooped into the conversation ending it with grace.
"What do you need Hon?"
"I need to get over to Y/N, I have a matter that needs addressing"
"Is this about those lips you've been staring at all night?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business bat, but yes."
"Fine, I'll help you, but you have to do it over there." She pointed to the mistletoe hanging in the center of the room.
"What? Why?"
"Why? well you two have been together for so long and yet I've never seen the two of you give each other more than a peck. I just want to make sure you're doing it right, for Y/N's sake."
"You are a pain you know that right?"
"Just looking out for you doll."
Shadow weighed his options for a moment, if he tried to make his way across the room he was sure to run into more people and have to engage in more meaningless conversations. it would take at least an hour to get to you, and even then he would have to wait for your conversation to end before he could even attempt to kiss you.
Still to kiss in a crowd was one thing, to do it with everyone watching was another.
He gritted his teeth it wasn't like him to shy away from anything and he wasn't about to start now. He needed your lips and fast so reluctantly he agreed.
"You wont regret this, I promise." Rouge responded happy her little negotiation worked. She took out her phone and texted everyone her plan, all they had to do was get you under that mistletoe by any means necessary.
❄️
You were mid conversation with Amy when her phone went off.
"That's weird who could be texting you right now? everyone we know is here."
"Don't worry about it, it's nothing." she reassured quickly putting her phone away. "Say, why don't we look for some more of those delicious crab puffs I think I saw some over there."
"umm okay, I guess we could."
But before you could actually turn to go the opposite direction Sonic interrupted your conversation.
"Hey Y/N How's it goin? Say, is that cocktail for me? Thanks!" He took your drink and bolted across the room before you even had the chance to react.
"Hey!" you whined before following after him, it was a confined space and with all the people there he couldn't have gotten too far.
You followed him almost to the center of the room before he stopped turning back to you your drink still in his hands.
"What's the big idea? you can't just do that at a party."
"I had it under control Sonic" Amy called finally catching up to the both of you.
"Yah, but I was faster."
"What's going on you two?"
"You'll see." sonic replied "Sorry about this" He gave you a gentle push. Stumbling backward you almost fell thankfully, a pair of hands steadied you before you could reach the floor.
"Hey." shadow looked down at you giving you a handsome smirk.
"Shadow? thanks, but how did you-"
"Everyone! looks like we have our first two lovebirds under the mistletoe!" Rouge announced "Why don't you give them a round of applause?"
You looked up and saw the offending branch right above where you and Shadow were standing.
"Oh no, we don't have to if you don't want. I know you don't really like this stuff." you apologized.
"Don't be ridiculous, It's tradition." Shadow said grabbing you by the chin. "And besides with the way you look tonight I want everyone here to know you're mine."
And with that he kissed you it was passionate, full of love and devotion. he was getting the touch he so craved and he didn't care who saw it.
Once your lips had parted and crowed died down a little you looked into his crimson eyes and smiled.
"You know, you could have just asked for a kiss my love."
"Yes, but I wanted to make this one special."
You giggled placing your hands on his chest.
"Well then love, You accomplished your mission"
You gave him another kiss each of you smiling against the other's lips before rejoining the party hand in hand.
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st4rrzynight · 2 days ago
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𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭– 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
𝟏𝟎:𝟓𝟑 𝐏𝐌. i anxiously stared at the time on my phone. it has almost been an hour and paige still hasn't shown up. tonight is my birthday, she promised she'd show up after she washed up from tonights game.
i'm looking around as my friends converse around me in my apartment. my roommates have already questioned me on the absence of my girlfriend. i wish i knew why she wasn't here either.
i enter the passcode to my phone in a hurry as i pull up her contact and type out a message.
Paige 💜🫶
hey, where are you? everyone’s asking about you... are you on your way?
i'm so sorry, babe. i can’t make it.
what?
i know, i know. I feel awful about it, but something came up the team wanted me to come celebrate tonights win with them
its my birthday paige you promised you would be here. going out with the team is suddenly more important than your girlfriends birthday?
it's not just "going out". it's to celebrate tonights win, and it's kind of a big deal. if i don't show up, it could look bad. i don't want to let them down, you have to understand.
no paige, i don’t understand. I’m standing here, surrounded by my friends, and i have to keep making excuses as to why you’re not here. do you know how embarrassing that is? to not have my own girlfriend show up to celebrate my birthday??
i'm sorry, okay? i’ll make it up to you. i’ll take you out somewhere nice tomorrow just the two of us, yeah?
no paige it’s not about “making it up.” it’s about showing up when you say you will. but you NEVER do.
that’s not fair. you know how much pressure i’m under i just want to celebrate the win, look i'll make it up to you tomorrow i promise.
paige i am so tired of this. seriously, you keep making empty promises, you get my hopes up only for you to tell me a half assed excuse that you pulled straight out of your ass last minute.
please don’t do this right now. i’ll call you after i leave.
don’t bother, we're done.
what??
read 10:56
what do you mean were done??
read 10:58
y/n answer me please baby
read 10:59
please ill do anything ill make it up to you i promise please answer my message baby
⚠︎︎ not delivered
ᵖᵃⁱᵍᵉˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
two years. 730 days. i lost her two years ago today, i lost it all. i know it was my fault, i put everything above her and i deeply regret it. now i have to live life in regret watching from the sidelines as she celebrates her birthday once again. this time, with her girlfriend.
her laugh filling the air knowing i used to be the cause of that laughter. admiring her from across the bar, sitting in between my teammates as they make conversation yet i can't bring myself to take my eyes off of her.
i scan ever inch of her body my eyes stopped on her wrist, then her fingers, then her neck. every single piece of jewelry i got her, gone. none of it in sight as if it never existed.
a hand on her thigh from a woman who was a copy of me. blonde, blue eyes, tall, and she plays soccer. but its not me. it will never be me again.
i can't even blame her, thats why i hate it. i hate that i can't hate her no matter how hard i try because in the end i will always love her and it will always be her.
even if i'm not her happy ever after. i distract myself trying to find someone new but it never ends well. i always find similarities between the girls i've gone on dates with and her. thats what attracts me to them, the fact that they slightly even look like her. but they will never compare to her full look, no one will.
so for the rest of time ill find myself watching from the sidelines seeing her take on life with someone who isn't me by her side, someone who looks like me but is not entirely me.
it will always kill me, it's going to eat me alive till i die. knowing that i'm not hers anymore, i won't be looking for her in the student section knowing shes there. instead ill be looking for her in the student section in hopes she decided to show up, but i know she didn't. she's going to be in the student section of the soccer games watching and cheering on her.
i won't be able to buy her flowers anymore, instead i watch as she gets gifted flowers by another woman. except those aren't her favorite. they're the wrong flowers.
i wont be able to buy her the perfume she always wears when it runs out, her signature scent that i always loved. instead i watch as she gets gifted perfume by another woman. she sprays it into the air and by the time it reaches where i sit i know its not the one she loves. its the wrong perfume.
i won't be making late night sephora trips, picking out her favorite makeup products when shes running low. instead i watch as she gets gifted makeup by another woman. its the wrong brand.
because of my mistakes, ones that i regret so deeply, i now live with the gnawing feeling knowing that she now loves a woman who doesn't pay attention to small details and gifts her all the wrong things, on her birthday of all days, but she showed up. i didn't.
clearly i lacked attention to detail as well if i couldn't see how much i truly disappointed and hurt her and didn't even show up. i wish it went down differently.
every shooting star, every coin toss into a fountain, every time the clock hits 11:11, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion, my last two birthdays, my only wish was to have her back.
but i cant.
not anymore.
and it hurts.
i open up my phone clicking on her contact, i type out one last message, even if i know she won't ever get it. i type it out and send it as some type of closure.
𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.
⚠︎︎ not delivered
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𝐚/𝐧 — 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫
𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 —
@uwupaige @jadasogay @sweetluna20
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honey-on-your-tongue · 2 days ago
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FWB
Part 4 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist
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Logan isn't sure when or how it happened. It just…did.
He wakes up next to you every morning now. He falls asleep next to you every night. It's become routine, part of his day, as natural as if he's always been doing it.
Somehow, falling asleep next to you turns into cuddling, which then turns into late night conversations until you're both too exhausted to keep talking.
And Logan is…happy. He feels lighter, he's got more energy. Suddenly the world isn't the sullen place he always thought it was.
He convinces himself it's the sex. Convinces himself that's what has him in such a good mood. It couldn't possibly be anything else other than the sex.
It's his favorite part of the day now. He looks forward to lying next to you, to listen to you talk about your day. He just focuses on your words, on the sound of your voice, as he gently caresses your skin.
And he shares with you, too. Little, but he shares. He likes the way you pay attention, the way you actually listen to what he has to say. It makes him feel…seen. And it sounds silly, but that's how he feels. That's one of the many things he likes about you.
You're smart, you're sweet, you're funny. He enjoys talking to you so much, that the idea of going somewhere with you and just talking about anything and everything slowly starts to grow in his mind. It takes shape; he thinks of places, of times, of days. And he decides that an afternoon coffee with you would be the most suitable. Now there's only the matter of asking you.
And despite everything you two have done, this has him nervous.
He's antsy and jumpy as he walks up to you one day, hands balled into fists.
“Hey, bub,” he greets casually.
You turn to face him, eyes bright. And you smile and he's lost.
A little voice in the back of his head is insisting that a girl like you would never want him, that you're way out of his league. But he gathers his courage and pushes himself to ask anyway.
“So, I was wondering,” he says, “if you're busy today? In the afternoon?”
“Today? No, I'm not busy,” you reply. He sighs in relief. “Why?” you add curiously.
“I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me? Like to go get coffee?”
You blink and his heart drops. She's gonna say no.
Is…is he asking me on a date?
You're pretty sure he did. At least that's what it sounded like. But he said it so casually, maybe he just meant it as friends or something?
“Um. Coffee?” you echo, grimacing internally. You sound like an idiot, but you hope Logan doesn't notice.
“Yeah, coffee. Or an ice cream, or…just, anything, really,” he replies, nodding. “I just meant if you wanted to hang out.”
You nod softly. “Well, yeah, it sounds fun,” you reply, smiling.
Logan offers a half grin in return. “Great. We could go into the city and just see where we feel like going,” he says.
You nod. “Yeah, great. So, it's a date.”
His grin widens into a smile. “It's a date.” He nods.
That afternoon, he takes you on his bike to the mall, enjoying the way you hold onto him for life. When you get to the mall and take the helmet off, he grins. Your hair is all messy and you've never looked more beautiful.
“I've got helmet hair, don't I?” you ask, pouting.
He hums gently. “A little,” he responds as he tenderly combs your hair some.
You grumble a bit. “I was all fixed-up and pretty,” you complain.
“You still look as beautiful as ever,” he tells you, studying your face carefully, just taking you in.
A soft blush coats your cheeks and he smiles, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles softly.
It's almost odd to see Logan be this calm, caring, affectionate. But you're not complaining at all. If anything, you like it. It makes you feel wanted. He makes you feel wanted and safe.
You two walk into the mall together, talking and laughing, and he lets you pick the place. You end up in a cute café, cozy and quiet, sitting close together in a booth in the far corner.
Logan is more open than usual, still somewhat reserved, but he offers you more insight to his thoughts and feelings. He talks and laughs, and you can sense he’s different. Almost as if the weight he always carries on his shoulders is gone. He’s just a man, a happy man on a date with a girl he likes. He’s no longer that tough, hardened, hurt man that’s been hurt by the world to the point of no return.
The conversation flows. It’s natural, easy, and before you know it, it’s been hours of you two sitting in the café and talking. When night falls and it starts getting late, Logan takes you back to the mansion. With most of the mansion asleep, you two walk in quietly and it feels like you’re sneaking back in from somewhere you shouldn’t have been.
It’s not like dating between the X-men is forbidden, just…Logan isn’t the type for that and you understand that.
Logan leads you to his room and locks the door after himself.
She’s beautiful. Just standing there, staring at him with those gorgeous eyes…you’ve got him hooked.
He reaches for you, studying your expression, taking in your scent and the sound of your heart. It’s as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.
You, that puts up with all his bullshit, that stands him and his dumbass, that demands respect, that amazes him, that makes him feel like he’s not a complete monster…
What did he ever do right in his long, fucked-up life that ended with the amazing karmic event of you giving him a chance? What did he ever do to deserve you? He’s not sure, but he’s grateful for whatever good luck has befallen him.
He grabs your hand and gently leads you to his bed, his heart racing.
His heart racing? Is he nervous. Since when is he nervous about sex?
He tries to ignore the thought as he lays you down on the bed. Without a second of hesitance, he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs so he can nuzzle against your thighs. He kisses them softly, one after the other, as he pushes your skirt around your waist. He mouths his way up to your pussy, inhaling her scent through the thin material of your panties. He kisses your mound, his eyes fluttering shut. He just lets himself feel, lets himself do whatever he wants however he wants, focusing on you and wanting to give you everything.
Your breathing grows heavy, your hands move to tangle in his hair. He goes slow, every lick and kiss calculated and measured. There’s no trace of the animal here, no trace of that hunger that seems to take over him more often than not. There’s just…him. It’s just him and you in this moment, together.
He gently tugs your panties off and smiles, glancing up at you. He can see the look in his eyes and he recognizes the affection there. And, for once, it doesn’t scare him, doesn’t send him running off. It makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter.
He eats you out gently, taking his time, just enjoying your taste and the way your body writhes under his mouth.
By the time you’re tugging him away, telling him you can’t take anymore, he’s made you come about three times. Smiling, he undresses and crawls onto the bed on top of you.
This time, there’s no screaming. There’s no headboard slamming into the wall or bed springs squeaking. No crazy positions or choking or spanking.
Logan fucks you slow, deep. His cock reaches every spot in you with a tenderness that takes your breath away.
Every deep thrust is punctuated by a groan from him, his breath hitching as you clench around him. He kisses your neck, mouths at your jaw. His hand caresses your cheek, his eyes on yours as he fucks you.
The gentleness of it, the soft care, the warmth in his gaze…it’s too much.
His fingers touch your clit and rub in soft circles, and it takes nothing to push you over the edge. You tumble, back arching, eyes rolling back. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your voice breathy as you whimper into his ear.
“Logan,” you whisper. “Logan.”
And he loses it. You’re not begging for sex. You’re not begging for him to go hard and deep, or for him to relieve you of your stress. You’re begging for more, for the one thing he shouldn’t give you and the one thing he wants to give you.
Your pussy clenches his cock tight as you come and he loses his train of thought. With a shudder and a low moan, he comes in you, spurting his release into your soft cunt. He’d forgotten the condom, but that’s an issue for another day.
He stays where he is, on top of you, and leans his forehead against yours. “Are you okay, bub?” he asks softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.
You nod. “I’m good,” you reply.
He meets your gaze and smiles softly. And, God, the way he’s looking at you…it almost looks as if not only cares about you, but like he could almost, almost…
Love you.
---
a/n: I'm sorry babes!!! I can't believe this took me so long but omg, finals actually kicked my ass and I'm surprised I didn't have a breakdown lol. Buuut, it's finally here. Enjoooooy!!!
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Taglist
@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman @ion-even-know @znerac @steviebbboi @insanesosciopath @reidsworld @arrozconpepitoria @meadow-field @sir-thisisadndserver @wolviesgirl @rooroen @tezooks
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Blog masterlist
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nmakii · 2 days ago
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christmas kids
about him, who was also born on december 25th. i used to spot your face in every crowd, now i can’t even remember your smile.
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— kaiser hates celebrating his birthday. no exceptions; not even for you.
cw: mentions of kaiser’s backstory, gesner being vulgar (im his biggest fan), kaiser is a meany pants, self deprecation
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parties like these were a pain. kaiser stood beside his drunken teammates, while ‘all i want for christmas is you’ by mariah carey blasted for the 6th time on loop. it was disgustingly corny how he’d have to act as if he gives a damn to celebrate christmas with his co-workers. if the club owner for bastard münchen hadn’t required attendance for this party, he would’ve definitely skipped it.
to be entirely honest, he never even saw the point of celebrating december 25th. every year, the streets of berlin would be glowing with festive lights, and the halls of cathedrals would loudly ring their church bells.
but in kaiser’s dark corner of hell, his father would beat the life out of him. more so than usual— his eyes would bruise purple for weeks, and his nose wouldn’t stop the stream of red that would bleed all over his ragged clothes.
kaiser had learned from a young age, his birthday wasn’t something that should be celebrated, or even acknowledged. it was the day his scummy mother abandoned his even scummier father; it was the day trash was born. how could such an occasion even be celebrated?
with his birthday being public knowledge though, he doesn’t exactly have a choice on if he wants to celebrate it or not.
as clock struck midnight, everyone yelled out christmas greetings and wishes of good will, as well as greetings for kaiser, now a year older.
“woo! happy birthday, asshat! you’re 19!” gesner, incredibly drunk, slurs to kaiser. “a year closer to your death… in the end, we’re all just waiting for the day we never open our eyes again… oh, this is just too sad…” grim shudders, falling to the ground.
birkenstock pulls grim off the floor, and the team gathers around and very off tunely sings happy birthday to kaiser, while ness struggles to light the candle placed on top of the leftover pizza, yet to be finished.
“…happy birthday to you!” they cheer. “make a wish, kaiser.” ness smiles, holding the box.
‘what do i want..?’ he asks himself. he already has a lot more than he’s ever wanted; a comfortable home, decent company— asking for anything else would just seem… wrong.
the candle gleamed a burning red, its’ shine reflecting on kaiser’s face. the hot flames on his face, and he suddenly realizes what he wants— to be human.
that’s all he’s wanted for the longest time, why should he wish for anything else?
he blows out the candle, and they clap. “you guys didn’t need to do anything, i didn’t want to celebrate my birthday.” he lightly reprimanded. ness frowns, he was the one who had wanted surprise kaiser in the first place.
but, gesner boos at his pessimism. “don’t be a jerk, dick cheese! just accept it!” he roughly slaps kaiser on his back, kicking all the air out of his lungs. “oof..!” he coughs. “g..guh… are you sure you’re a football player? you slap so hard, you’re better suited to volleyball.”
gesner scoffs, and goes off on his rant about kaiser’s narcissism.
‘this environment… it’s hostile but, i’m still in control. this… isn’t that bad.’ kaiser thinks to himself. he doesn’t receive their goodwill; he forces it out of them, and they respond with their own form of resistance. yet, they still pass to him, no matter what. because, he’s the one in charge of this team.
“…and, you keep showing off that pretty thing you’re leaving on the hook. she could totally do better than that ‘will they, won’t they?’ situationship of your’s! seriously makes me feel bad for her…”
…kaiser wasn’t exactly sure what brought gesner to bring you up. but, bringing up your… relationship, was a bit of a sour spot for him.
he wanted to love you, you were someone he wanted to stick around for a while. you were kind, almost heaven-sent. something about you that would make him keep coming back. maybe it was the way you’d wake up early with him and make breakfast together, or the way you’d sass him and put him in his place when he was being an asshole. but, he couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he should tear down those walls he’s built, and start over for you.
kaiser was used to restrictive environments, he thrived in discomfort. but, being vulnerable simply made his skin crawl with disgust. if it was for someone for you though… maybe he could try it. were you really worth it?
…he thinks you could be.
“it’s not a situationship, we’re just hanging out.” kaiser rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his mocktail. “plus, don’t you already have a girl you’re torturing?” he condescends.
thankfully, the party goes on without a fight starting, or kaiser’s birthday being mentioned anymore further.
and by the time kaiser arrives home, it’s already 2:30. he opens the door into his penthouse apartment.
the light is on.
he’s sure he didn’t leave the light on when he had left, there’s only one other explanation.
“s/o?” he called out.
you probably used the spare key for his apartment he gave you after much more frequent visits. did you think he was home?
“ah, hey!” you finally noticed his presence, waving hello. kaiser still had a suspicious glare on his face, his malice evident simply by his tone. “what are you doing here?”
“it’s your birthday!”
“so?”
“so, it has to be celebrated..! it was the day you were born after all.” you brainlessly informed him.
“i don’t celebrate it.” he sighs as he finally shuts the front door, dropping all his belongings on the console table.
“it’s the same day as christmas. it’s a hassle to celebrate two things.” he says the same excuse he’s used millions of times before but today, his act was getting sloppy. it’s clear by his sullen eyes that it’s more than just because it’s a hassle.
“uhuh… well, i made you a cake!”you urge him to come over. of course, it was a box set cake, but you still put tons of effort into decorating it!
what does he do? he wasn’t exactly sure on how to accept gifts in general. he passed through the narrow hall, and into the dining area.
he stared at the cake— it’s frosted in white french buttercream and its’ edges are piped blue with a french star tip. ‘happy birthday mikka’, it reads.
mikka… that isn’t a nickname that you’ve called him before. but, it’s cute. fuck, did he actually like this gift..?
‘…how sweet.’ he thinks. kaiser picked up the box with both his hands, his touch was so delicate. he carried the cake over to the kitchen counter,
…and opened the trash.
“hey! what are you doing..?!” you run to stop him from dumping your hard work into the garbage.
it doesn’t stop him though, it doesn’t even make him struggle. “i told you i don’t celebrate it.” he huffs as some of the cake crumbles and stains his hands.
he takes a frosting-covered finger to his lips, indulging in his salty sweet taste. “ah… it’s good.” he compliments. something that only happens to make you angrier.
“then why did you throw it in the garbage, asshole?!” you yell out. how insensitive could a person get?!
“i already told you, or are those ears of your’s just for decoration?” he scoffs, the air is heavy.
and at that moment, he knew it.
michael kaiser is not meant to love, or be loved.
“get out.” he commands. his cold eyes hit you like a dagger. “h..huh..?” you ask, indignant at how you were being treated.
you knew kaiser would be hard to unravel but, why is he acting so different so suddenly?
“i said get out. i already decided…”
“…we’re over, s/o” he decreed. “whatever romance you and i might have had is gone. go find someone else to care about you. i’m not gonna fit your romantic fantasy.”
“i— wait, mikka, we can work this out, okay..?!” you ask, a panicked expression decorating your face. “goddamnit, fine— i’m sorry for calling you an asshole, okay?!”
you sound almost desperate in your tone. but, it still doesn’t shake his decision. “no… get out. find someone who can fulfill that fantasy of your’s, i’m never gonna be the perfect boyfriend that you’re dreaming about. understand?”
and, the cold reality faces you. a look of despair on your face, it’s incredibly pathetic to be in this low of a position right now.
ah, that look on your face… he’ll miss that look of terror and desperation, on your face especially. the way your pretty eyes gleam with tears, and the way your nose scrunches, trying to hold back your snot.
“…fine. i hope you’re happy with your life, kaiser.” you spitefully spit out. his chest hurts when he hears you call him by his last name. did that hurt him..? just a little bit…
…and, that’s when kaiser asks himself the same question.
were you really worth tearing down everything he’s known just to build it all up again?
the answer was yes. you’re worth everything money could afford; you’re as priceless as every star in the sky.
it was kaiser who wasn’t worth it. you deserved more than a scummy asshole who’s too scared love.
but, that’s just the problem with kaiser, isn’t it?
the closer he wants you, the more he pushes you away.
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kurokawaia · 3 days ago
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DAY TWENTY FIVE - CORRUPTION 彡 Madara Uchiha
WARNINGS :: corruption, virginity taking, discrimination, breeding, size kink, madara is mean, degradation, x fem reader, restraining (using hands), prone bone, slight choking? afab, she/her terms, reader is timid / shy / scared / inferior / shorter than madara, CNC, Old ideologies regarding birth! + more
| WC :: 3.7k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list
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It was a reletively public wedding, so the entire village could see the bond growing further between the Senju and the Uchiha. All the villagers thought that it was a beautiful love story, one were the two of you fell for each other despite being from enemy clans. But how could they be so wrong, it was nothing of the sort.
It was an arranged marriage. 
This was the elder's decision, thinking that it would be a more secure way to confirm that the Uchiha would not fight back in the further future. The decision was made for the protection of Konoha and being Hashirama and Tobirama's timid, innocent little sister, you couldn't object.
It's your first night within the Uchiha estate, specifically Madara's. You stand in silence biting your bottom lip, in which the red lipstick that was previously there at been removed. Not only by the rigid kiss the two of you shared at the wedding but because of you nibbling on the flesh.
Your hands grip the primarily white kakeshita, you don't know what to do, Madara isn't in the room with you right now and you are too scared to do anything. You were a Senju, but now you are an Uchiha, bounded by those ridiculous ceremonies, paperwork and those vows.  Startled, you jump slightly at the creak the door makes as Madara slides it open, stepping into the room. His eyes trail up on to you, previously analysing every part of your body. YOu could feel it, it is so strong, the scrutiny in his gaze, the judgment.  "It would appear the Senju couldn't even grant me a worthy wife. Just a fragile little thing, aren't you?" Madara scrutinises and a shaky breath leaves your mouth.   Your stomach clenches at the words. Of course, he doesn't hide how much he hates your clan even now that you two have been wed. You feel small under his gaze, and his height. The way he looks at you makes you feel so inferior. 
To Madara, you aren't his wife, you are just a filthy Senju only here to bear his children. 
"I didn't ask for this," you whisper, your voice trembling.  He lets out a low chuckle and closes the space between you. "You think I asked for this? To be tied to the likes of you? A Senju, a weakling, a woman from the enemy's bloodline?" His words cut deep and the tears prick at the back of your eyes. You mean nothing to Madara but a means to an end, nothing more than a tool for him, to bear children, to give him strong children.
Madara moves around you, so now that he is behind you, his chest is almost inches away from your back. "What did your brothers think? That by sending you to me, it would make me forget the blood spilled between us? That I'd forget how your family has tried to crush mine for generations?" He adds. You flinch. Your blood running inside you was a brand of shame in itself, reminding you that no matter how hard you tried, you would never belong here, in his world, the Uchiha world, no matter how equal your clans really are. "You're nothing here," he sneers. "Nothing but a Senju in an Uchiha household. A reminder of everything I despise."
He steps closer, so his hot breath fans across your neck and your back tenses. His hand reaches up, catching your chin in an iron vice as he forces you to meet his gaze. "And now, you're here in— my bed, in my house. But don't let yourself think you'll ever be anything more than a Senju dog." Your heart races in your chest, but you grit your teeth, god, you're so scared. Madara gazes into your eyes. "I will never think of you as a Uchiha," he announces. "You shall never be of us. Our children? Yes. But you? Never." Your chest tightens. You feel yourself start to unravel, piece by piece, under his cold gaze and cruel words. You want to be able to fight back, scream at him, and make him see that you're more than the blood running through your veins. The hate weighing upon you from him crushes you, rendering you mute. The silence is then broken as Madara speaks once more, "Get into bed, it's time you played wife." Your heart sinks, and a wave of dread washes over you. There is no love in that command, no affection. His lips ghost on your neck, below your ear before pulling the sash that held your marriage kimono together before he slips the fabric down your shoulders. Instinctively, when the fabric slips to your elbows, a gasp slips past your lips and you pull your arms to your chest, covering your exposed body. 
"W-Wait," you managed to squeak out, your heart beating furiously, you swear that it was so loud that he could hear it.
You hear the click of his tongue and can feel the roll of his eyes. "What, woman?"
"I've... never... done anything... like this," you say quietly, your hands trembling, holding the fabric tighter to your chest.
"You'll do as I say, dear," he hums, emphasising the last word, almost to mock you. "I wouldn't want to... hurt you." Scared, you nod timidly, still clenching the fabric as you walk towards the futon, your body getting heavier with every step. You only just barely managed to sit on your knees, your weight on the insides of your feet. 
Your gaze was kept tight onto the sheets in front of you. Hearing a light thud hit the floor, you glance up through your mascara-tinted lashes, and you see that the sash holding Madara's wedding attire is on the floor. You can clearly see his abs through the opening of the kimono and his pants had been stripped too, you can clearly see the bulge in his underwear. 
Then, the last of his main attire was pulled off his body and tossed onto the floor, now he is only donned in his underwear, his body bare in front of you. And before you knew it, Madara was kneeling in front of you, tugging the fabric roughly out of your hold. 
Suddenly, the breath from your chest left with a sudden escape of breath as your body fell hard to the futon, Madara's bigger hands restraining your wrists beside your head. Your eyes widen while your lips tremble at the sight of Madara above you, his face so close to yours you could fall apart underneath his gaze. 
Madara closes in, his nose almost touching your own and your breath hitches. "I'm going to ruin you," he hums, moving his head to your shoulder, his lips skimming across your flesh slowly. 
God, you were trembling, you've never felt like this before, this sensation was making you loose your mind. He was being so mean to you, to one of the kindest people in Konoha, making you feel like nothing, and yet, how he made your body feel was something words couldn't explain. 
You were so focused on how he was so close to your neck, that you completely missed how Madara had already slipped down your underwear. His thick fingers pressed against the top of your pussy, so, so, so close to slipping in and hitting your clit.
Your back arches into the touch a breathy gasp falls from your lips and you want to scream in embarrassment. All you wanted to do was to cover your mouth and you couldn't even do that with how Madara was pinning your hands above your head. 
"Fuck, you're sensitive," Madara mumbles to himself, feeling and seeing how you react to such a simple touch, he smirks agasint your neck.
He's going to enjoy this.  
Opening his mouth slightly, he latches onto the dip from your neck and you squirm underneath his imposing touch. His legs spread apart your own, rendering you unable to move. Madara's stature is so big, that you didn't think you would be able to move anyway, considering how his weight was pressing down on you, how his warmth was seeping into you. 
Helpless whimpers leave your mouth as he sucks at your soft skin, leaving marks all over your chest while his fingers still lightly play with your folds, though, they never pushed past, teasing you. 
"Please...." you whimper quietly, pleading into Madara's ear so softly and as much as Madara wanted to hate your voice, it sent shivers down his spine.
"Please what?" he asks in a low tone, lips finally pulling away from your red collarbones. 
Your breathing is ragged, cheeks flushed a pinky-red hue from Madara's touches. "Please... could I have more...?" you question slowly, quietly and Madara smirks at the obvious nervousness in your voice. 
"More?" he teases, pressing his forehead against your own and you gaze into his obsidian eyes which sent electricity down your spine.
You nod small, "...Yes."
A hum comes from his mouth as he pushes his fingers past your folds, two thick fingers pressing against your clit and you moan shamelessly. You want to cover your mouth but can't, your hands are still bound above your head. 
His fingers venture further down, tracing a path along your slick slit. The touch is electrifying, causing you to tremble in his hold, your body responding to his every movement. A whimper escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you.
"So wet," Madara hums as he presses his thumb against your clit and you moan, your back arched agasint the futon. Madara frowns to himself knowing that your eyes are screwed shut
At your reply, Madara's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. A moan left your mouth as your back arched at his touch. your reaction caused Madara to press down slightly more and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.
You felt his fingers slide down and he found your seeping hols, drenched with arousal. You felt a finger slowly slide inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. As much as Madara hates the Senju's he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for you, your face contorts into pain after a few seconds so he stops, head tilting.
"W-Wait," you whimper. "Gi- Give me a few seconds."
"Why should I wait for you?" Madara hums, eyes slitting at you.
"Hurts," you replied trying to regulate your breathing.
A tsk left his mouth, "It hurts because you're tense. Relax," he orders and you let your body relax under him, your breathing all controlled. "See? Doesn't hurt as much now doesn't it?"
You shook your head. "Exactly," he adds and he begins to pump his digits in and out your drenched cunt.
"So good," You whimpered as he slowly pumped in and out your soaked walls. 
The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that leaves you unable to contain your moans. You press your lips against his shoulder, muffling the sounds that escape from deep within you. His fingers explore the depths of your core, igniting a fire that consumes your every thought. Each movement, each curl, sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.
You surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch, the combination of his skilled fingers and the intensity of our connection pushes you closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure bliss, where time stands still, and you are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your veins.
As Madara's fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of your seeping hole, there was an unfamiliar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, pleasure tightened inside your stomach. you wrap your shaky legs around him, seeking to anchor yourself to him amidst the overwhelming pleasure. your body quivers with anticipation, responding to his every touch, every movement.
"Wait!" you sob, writhing under him. "Feels funny...."
"You're going to have an orgasm, just let it happen," he scoffs, beginning to scissor his fingers, respectively hitting your soft, gummy spot every single time. 
you chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.
In response to your plea, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice laced with desire. He begins to press your clit with the pad of his thumb, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense sensations. The touch is electrifying, causing you to arch your back in response.
"Feels weird," you sob. "Feels... good too... though."
"You'll take it," Madara asserts.
The pleasure builds, the tension mounting with each passing second until you are on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure surrender, where pleasure reigns supreme, and you are consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy that engulfs you.
Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. you managed to release your from Madara's neck and move away from his hold.
Your legs are trembling around his waist, your cum and arousal soaked the sheets below you, dripping down your ass from your hole. As you open your squeezed-shut eyes, you see Madara take a taste of his fingers, licking a stip up his digits, swallowing your cum and your cheeks burn red. 
Madara almost groans at your taste, so sweet, he can't wait for you to break and split from his cock. Your whimpers and screams of overstimulation are going to be heaven for him. You pull your hands from his grasp as you feel the hold loosening and cover your face. It was an immediate reaction, Madara quickly pulled your hands back above your head. 
"You will not hide from me," Madara commands and your bottom lip trembles as you nod. 
God, your legs fall lip on either side of Madara on the futon and they tremble. Then you felt a big bulbous tip press against your entrance and you arch your back into the pleasuring sensation, a moan slipping past your innocent mouth. All you wanted to do was paw at his chest, and leave scratch marks everywhere, but you couldn't.
"Please... I... want to... touch you," you whispered through your whine.
A humoured chuckle leaves his throat. "As if I'd let a filthy Senju touch me."
You then got flipped around so suddenly, your breasts pushing against the futon, hands still pinned above you, face squished into the pillow. You then felt Madara's mass press down against your back and you let out a soft whimper at the sudden weight. His abs were flush against your back, hands gripping the backs of your own, pressing them into the bed. 
Madara's breath tickled your ear and you wiggled your head at the warm sensation, your core getting wetter, your body trying to squirm away from the imposing hold that he had on you. Madara's hands moved slowly, changing his grip so that one of his hands held both of you over your head, being cautious not to get your hair entangled within the movement. 
A content sigh leaves your mouth when Madara raises his body ever so slightly, trailing his free hand down the expanse of your smooth back before his fingers meet your slick entrance, dripping with your cum.
"You're going to take all of me," he mutters against your ear before taking a nibble at your ear, you let out a gasp at the sudden action.
Then you felt a heavy, throbbing tip press against your clit and you moaned from the small touch. You tried to squirm away from the pleasurable cause but couldn't, he knew you were gonna try to run from his body due to the pleasure. So, he pressed his weight against you once more.
You held your breath when Madara sank his throbbing cock into your spongey walls, his length getting squeezed by every ridge within your soaked cunt. A groan leaves Madara's mouth and a moan from your own as his length nudged the deepest spot within you.
Madara could've busted right there and then, your tight walls constricting him made him tense. You feel so good, and he couldn't wait to take you again and again, to fill you up to the brim with his cum every night. 
Madara moans, relishing in the way your walls clench him, how could he not want to cum inside, you feel so good. His free hand grips your hip and he admires how you have perfect hips to give birth for, for a Senju, you're a perfect wife to breed. 
Madara didn't move, he wanted to relish in on how you desired to cause friction, desired to move against his touch, but couldn't. Madara's cock, prodded so deep in your gummy walls that you whimpered in pleasure, but that didn't stop him from not moving. He was still snug inside.
Hot and heavy kisses trail down from your ear down to the dip of your neck to shoulder and a breathless sigh escaped your parted lips before Madara rolled his hips into yours. A moan slips out of your mouth, his thick length scraping all the sensitive parts of your warm insides.
Madara's knees spread your legs apart so that any advances from you ensured that they would be shut down, so that you remained situated below him, your pretty body that paled in comparison to his frame. As he expected, you couldn't move from his trapping embrace.
His movements became faster, his cock thrusting into the depths of you needy hole as strained moans and whines left your throat. Madara was panting in your ear and an occasional deep groan slipped past his lips, the sounds which made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.
Madara was filling you up to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip hitting that soft, gummy spot in your cunt that caused you to scream out in fulfilment. "Close?" He breathed in a humoured tone, causing you to let out a moan and sigh, body shaking with pleasure.
Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of Madara's hips, but as you arched your back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot. You sobbed out, tears filling your lash line. "Too much, Madara.... S-Slow down.... too much."
"Oh?" he smirked, his hips moving now at a faster pace, loving how your cunt squeezed his cock even though you wanted him to slow down, "It's alright, you can hold out," he coos.
Repetitive moans left your mouth while he pounded into your tight heat. You suddenly had the instinctive urge to press yourself into his length, but you couldn't, his weight was too heavy for you to move against him, and you were utterly hopeless as his thrusts became faster.
"Please, I wanna come," you cry out mewling. 
Your body trembled beneath him and the hold he had on your hands loosened. Your hips were getting held, then, the strength he possessed lifted you onto your knees before a bicep wrapped around your throat, lifting your head. It wasn't a tight grip but the power lifted your head from the futon while you shakily rested your weight on your elbows.
Your back arched heavily, finally being able to sink more into him. "Madara...?" you asked in a hush tone but he didn't reply and you wanted to sob because you just wanted one last thing. "Madara... please... I wan' a kiss, please."
"A kiss, huh?" he groans out. Madara hunches over you, pulling you closer to him and connecting your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallows your moans. 
"Good, taking me so deep," Madara groaned, pulling away from your mouth and pushing this arch into your back deeper.
He watched your ass ripping again his lower abdomen, watching your cunt with black iris'. Observing how your walks sucked him in, leaving a creamy white rind of your cum and arousal around the base of his cock.
"Making you feel so good, aren't I?" Madara groaned his head tilted forward, sweat beading on his forehead as we watched your fall apart and tremble from his dick, watching your innocence fade away, broken moans slipping past your plump lips.
"Gonna fill you up," Madara groans. "You're taking me so deep, deserve to have my cum."
"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad."
You clench around his length as he increases his pace, instantly accommodating to the speed but your moans escalate. "Such a filthy Senju," He leaned down and mumbled in your ear chased with a deep moan that stirred your insides clenching around his length.
"Want it so bad!" you whimper, unable to comprehend any thoughts that swelled into your head.
"C'mon darling," he growled and you spasmed around his length as your high washed over you, your legs shaking as his weight pressed down even more than it was. His thrusts didn't slow causing you to whimper in overstimulation, but Madara helped it, his hips continuing to rut into mine, helping you ride out your orgasm as he chased his own.
With a groan, his lips planted against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine, hard, his cum spilling inside you causing you to moan into his kiss. And you felt more of his cum spill into your fertile womb, painting your insides white, you could almost feel your stomach bulging from how much you had of your husband inside you.
Madara slipped his softening length out, and pulled away from the kiss as you slumped to the futon, his eyes chained to the white splotches of silky come that spilled from your gaping cunt, watching with a slight frown as the cum spilled from your cunt. 
You're going to look so good plump with his children. He's going to make sure you get pregnant even if that means having sex morning and night. 
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thewistlingbadger · 1 day ago
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When it comes to raising Jinx and giving her advice, Silco uses his own life experiences as a guide to approach her life. This is clearly highlighted in the baptism scene. Prior to this point Silco and the audience have seen how Jinx is struggling to confront and handle her past. Silco gives her the advice to let it go so that way she won't feel the burden of it anymore and she can just focus on who she is in the present, and her future. He tells her that who she is in the current moment is perfect and acceptable and that embracing who she is will be the only way for her pain to ease. Silco says all of this because that's what worked for him. When he was able to let go of his past with Vander and focus on who he was post betrayal and focus on the nation of zaun, he became stronger. This seems to have worked for Silco, but it doesn't work for Jinx no matter how hard she tries and I think I just realized why.
Silco seemingly has no idea why Vander betrayed him. Living with that big of an unknown is a terrible thing to live with. The brain likes to have answers and it'll easily go mad without them. And this seems to be what happened to Silco. Silco has this very weird perception about his identity. It feels very rigid and unnatural and it's because it's more armor than it is authenticity. Silco doesn't know why Vander treated him like a monster that day, but if it's a monster he wants it's a monster he'll get. Living with uncertainty is extremely difficult but in a way it can sometimes be easier to accept than the truth. This is why Silco seems so well adjusted in his new identity. He can either be bothered by what he doesn't know or he can just let it go, and he chose to let it go in order to focus on what really mattered to him.
Jinx tries and fails to fully construct a new identity throughout arcane. She does use the "jinx persona" as armor, just how silco uses the "eye of zaun persona" armor, but she cracks in her resolve frequently. She wants to leave the last behind like how Silco does, but she can't. This is because of a very clear distinction between her and Silco. Although these two have a similar trauma, Jinx actually knows why she was abandoned, versus silco does not.
"Why did you leave me?"
"Because you're a Jinx!"
Jinx knows exactly why she was abandoned. She was given a direct answer. And the truth is brutal. The idea that Jinx is a curse upon everyone is something that is cemented in her brain. It is something she can't get rid of no matter how much she wants to. It would be easier to let it go if she didn't know but she does know. Jinx struggles to form a solid sense of self because this idea of her being a "jinx" is something that's always going to be a factor of any identity she forms. In every version of her, she ends up being a jinx in some way.
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skzdreamer13 · 10 hours ago
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AHHHHHHHHHHH I love HYUNJINS new haircut!!! AHHHHHH
okay….hear me out…..
Can you pls write a Hyunjin fic of him getting his new haircut without the reader knowing? And she ends up LOVING IT…. And then like snuggling at the end…
only if you have time ofc or if you want to 😍😍
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Love this
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Give me love
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Oh my god yes lol I've been looking for an excuse all day to write about kiwi Hyunjin!
This turned out a bit angsty but it's still very cute and I hope you enjoy! 🖤
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Idol!Hyunjin x Reader
Info ~ Angst, reassurance, insecurities, cuddling
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Hyunjin has been nervous all day. He pretty much lied to you this morning about what he'd be doing today and he felt guilty. It was eating him up.
But he also didn't know how to tell you that the hair you love to run your fingers through, braid, tie up, and play with would be gone when he came home later. You always told him you love him no matter what and that you always find him beautiful and attractive. Yet it's eating him up that, this decision he's making might change your mind.
But he needs a drastic change. His hair has been long for too long and it was starting to become obnoxious. Was this an extreme change? Yes, absolutely! But it's what he needs and he knows it, he just hopes you understand and still love him despite it.
~
You're sitting on the couch when you hear the creak of the entryway door. Hyunjin said he was going to the dance studio to practice, but it's only been about two hours, too soon for him to be back. Normally he'd be gone for anywhere from 4 or more hours. Maybe he forgot something.
Standing up from the couch, you're wrapped in a blanket as you walk down the hallway to meet your boyfriend.
"Did you forget-" your words die on your tounge. You look up as he pulls his hat off.
Gone. His hair is gone. For a moment you're conflicted sad that it's gone and simultaneously utterly intranced by his beauty with said new hair style. The way his face takes more of a spotlight, his nose line sharp, cheeks full and flush from the cold air. His eyes borderline cat like. Though his eyebrows are sharp they are furrowed waiting for you to say something, anything.
He looks like he's holding his breath his shoulders up and tense, his back perfectly straight in his puffy coat. His chest rising and falling in short sharp breathes, like your next words could make or break him.
You step closer and you watch his body tense at your movement. Closing the space between you two, you place your hands on his strong jaw line and his eyes go slightly wide. You rub your thumb on his cheeks, the stubble from his face that he didn't shave this morning scratchy against your fingers.
"Jinnie you cut your hair! It's beautiful! You didn't have to lie to me." Your voice is excited and bright but soft and sincere seeing the panick in his eyes. Your words and touch ease him and all his emotions flood as tears well up and flood his eyes.
He can't stop it as a chocked sob racks his body and he hunches over to rest his head in the crook of your neck on your shoulder. You hold him tight and wrap your arms around his large frame. Your hands rubbing up and down his back as he cries. Sweet soft words leave your lips to sooth him as he lets the relief wash over him.
He had no reason to be afraid, he knows something as trivial as a hair cut won't make or break your love for him. But the betrayal of his fans last time he cuz his hair, the awful things they said about him. How many of them abandoned him over it? How many people reduced him down to his looks? He couldn't take a blow like that from you. It breaks your heart to see him this distraught about something as trivial as a haircut.
"I'm sorry I lied to you." Hyunjin says, his voice pouty and soft as he lifts his head and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I'm not going anywhere silly." You say and pull away from him to look into his beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes. He is still in his puffy outside coat.
You place your hands on either side of his face again, bringing his forehead down to yours. You wipe stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb as he takes a deep breath collecting himself.
You help him take off his jacket and place it on a chair as you grab his hand and guide him, slightly dragging him as he follows you slowly, into the living room.
He sits on the couch and you sit beside him, draping your legs overs his so you're almost sitting in his lap but not quite. Now that you're in the light of the house you get a good look at him realizing not only did he shave his head but he's bleached it blonde!
"Jinnie, I need you to know I'm in love with your new hair!" You say excitedly, over enthusiastic as to try and perk up his mood. You want him to feel confident and happy in his decision. He should, he looks amazing.
A small smile plays on his lips as you bring your hands up to run it across his round head. His hair is soft yet prickly. It's such a fun texture, you could run your hands across it all day.
"I don't know why I was so scared." His voice is regaining its full bodied sound slowly and your satisfied that you've convinced him of how much you love this new look on him.
"I don't know why you were either." You curl up into his chest, legs still draped over his as you listen to his rapid heartbeat begin to relax.
"You know im going to be touching your head nonstop now, right?" You say and he chuckles.
"I had a feeling."
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suugarbabe · 13 hours ago
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Ok bet
Can I request a fic where Matteo comes home at the end of the day kind of exhausted and done with the world but finds his sweets like humming in the kitchen as she makes dinner? Just softness personified and he’s just 🫠
mmmmm yes yes yes yes yes my lovely darling girl; personally i would love to be that softness personified for matty boy but we all know i'm a lil rough around the edges
matty x gn!reader ; not proof read, sozz. but i still think its cute...
December was always busy. And honestly, it was always a little bit hard for Mattheo. With both Christmas and his birthday within a week or so of each other, not to mention the fact that he was basically estranged from his family, this time of year he always felt just a little bit...heavy.
Waking up most mornings led to him yearning for the moment he was able to lay back down and move on to the next. Getting day after day over with was always his goal until his keys hit the lock and he opened his door to you.
Today was no different. That same heavy feeling making him feel sluggish, making the day drag on until finally he was able to go home once more.
Hearing keys turn in the door did nothing to deter you from your current task. You bounced around the kitchen checking on different variants for the dinner you were preparing for the two of you.
To Mattheo you seemed to float around the kitchen with minimal effort, checking the oven and stirring things on the stovetop before moving to the counter to finish chopping things for what looked like a salad.
You were humming to yourself, a tune that's been stuck in your head the last two days if Mattheo's recognizing it correctly. Even with a knife in your hand you look gentle to him and he can't help the grin the graces his features as he hangs up his jacket.
He toes off his trainers before walking over to you, making gentle steps on the tile to not disturb the soft bubble that seemed to surround you.
At his approach to the island you peek a glance from your chopping and smile, "Hi, handsome. How was your day?" He can't help the blush that dusts his cheeks at the affectionate nickname, no matter that you use it on him every day.
"Was long, exhausting really. Happy to be home."
You nod, indicating you received what he said as you lightly hum again while placing all the vegetables you just chopped in the salad, adding dressing and tossing.
You turn slightly, now facing your favorite boy who's rounding the island to stand beside you, "I'm happy you're home to. I think you'll like what I'm making."
Matty wraps his hands around your waist, yours finding solace around his neck. His grin is infectious and you fall victim so easily, "I always like what you make for us, sweets." His kiss on your lips is soft, just as he sees you. Nothing too deep or passionate, just a show of pure love and adoration for his favorite person.
His compliment settles in your brain and you're smiling as he pulls away. The kitchen timer rings, pulling you from him slightly; but not without a pout from Mattheo. "Set the cooling racks out for me, will you lovie?"
Matty pretends to grumble, but does as asked nonetheless. No sooner is he finished are you placing a tray of his favorite meal atop them.
"You made pasties?" The grin on his face was that of childlike excitement and the sight made your heart soar. Gnawing your lip slightly you gave a shy nod, "Wanted to try out a recipe I saw to see if you liked it. Then I could make it for your birthday when we had everyone over."
He reaches to grab one, earning a quick slap on the top of his hand, "Is there hot air under those pretty curls, boy? You just saw me pull those from the oven." Mattheo pulls his hand back, holding it to his chest, "But I wanna try one."
Rolling your eyes you hook your fingers in his front belt loops, pulling him closer to you, "You can try as many as you want, pretty boy...in fifteen minutes." He smiles at your mini-dominance display, settling his hands on either side behind you on the counter, "Guess you'll have to distract me for a moment then."
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