#can we talk about how CRISP this gif is

[sakuraszn]

hey bookie bear I’ve been a silent reader but I just had an idea!!

so here me out on you and fiancé!Bakugo had a plan to “square up” with each other at the alter before the rings are brought down the aisle. Like imagine all the guests laughing in confusion or some being genuinely concerned as to why the bride and groom suddenly squared up at the podium.

lol idk if this made sense but it just came to my brain

-🥭

﹒♡ SQUARE UP, ft. katsuki bakugo

note: hello mlll😚💕!! don’t worry I understand what you meant, hopefully I was able to execute this well for you!

Weddings are supposed to be elegant. Romantic. Sentimental. A once-in-a-lifetime moment filled with love, tears, and gentle smiles.

The grand hall was stunning—white roses, gold accents, and a whole bunch of fancy decorations that probably cost way too much, but you weren’t about to complain. Your friends and family filled the seats, waiting for the big moment.

Apparently, no one told you and Bakugo Katsuki that.

And then—

“Alright. Square up.”

A wave of confusion rippled through the crowd.

Standing at the altar in his crisp black suit, Bakugo loosened his tie, rolling his neck like he was about to go ten rounds in a championship fight. And in front of him? You, standing there in your absolutely drop-dead gorgeous wedding dress, lifting your fists like you were about to make history.

The tension? Immaculate.

The reactions? Priceless.

Kirishima nearly choked on his own spit. “Oh, man. They’re actually doing it.”

Mina gasped, hands over her mouth. “This is the most on-brand thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kaminari, utterly lost, turned to Todoroki. “Wait—this isn’t a normal wedding tradition, right?”

Todoroki, deadpan, replied, “Not unless I missed something in wedding etiquette class.”

Don’t even get started on your mother. She’s in distress. “WHY ARE THEY FIGHTING? THIS IS A CEREMONY, NOT A CAGE MATCH!”

Your father, arms crossed, just shook his head. “I mean… this is kinda how they flirt.”

The priest looked at the two of you, then at his script, then back at you, before sighing in utter defeat. “Should I… continue, or…?”

Bakugo ignored him, his eyes locked onto you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t get cold feet now.”

You scoffed. “Cold feet? Please. I’m just trying to decide if I should humble you now or after the reception.”

His smirk was all sharp edges. “Tch. Try it.”

And just like that—

The moment you took a step forward, Bakugo was already moving, sidestepping with a smoothness that was honestly a little too attractive for a man in a wedding tux. You threw a fake jab, just to mess with him, but he caught your wrist, spun you seamlessly, and then—

He dipped you.

A deep, dramatic, ballroom-style dip, your wedding dress flowing like something out of a fairy tale.

The entire chapel lost their minds.

“A DANCE MOVE FAKE-OUT?!” Kaminari screeched.

Mina wiped a fake tear. “They’re so in sync.”

You, upside down in the dip, burst out laughing. “Alright, alright! You win this round.”

“Tch. I always win,” Bakugo said, but he was grinning, the usual sharpness in his expression softened by pure affection. He pulled you upright, still holding onto you like he had no intention of letting go.

The priest, now sweating profusely, tried again. “So… can we proceed with the vows now?”

Bakugo sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes before lacing his fingers with yours. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with so I can kiss my wife already.”

The guests cheered. The ceremony continued. And for the rest of eternity, people would talk about how that was the day they witnessed the most badass and ridiculously romantic wedding of all time.

2025 © SAKURASZN !

[its-avalon-08]

would you consider writing a Raikkonen or Vettel reader x grid, where she’s a lawyer w the same fierceness as her brother, and the drivers get into media trouble and she goes all harvey specter on the problem and leaves the drivers speechless/ scared/ impressed/ proud etc. thank you for considering this love your work!!!

objection bitch

✦ pairing - f1 grid x female!lawyer!vettel!reader

✦ genre - all fluff

The FIA had crossed the line. Again. In a shock to nobody.

A new rule had come into place penalizing drivers for swearing in post-race interviews and the race. Ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. The grid was in an uproar, but no one had the power to do anything about it. No one except Y/N Vettel.

If there was one person who could go toe-to-toe with the FIA and emerge victorious, it was her. A formidable lawyer, sharp as a blade, and just as relentless as her brother, Sebastian Vettel, in a fight. The drivers had learned long ago not to underestimate her. But this? This was war.

And Y/N was ready as ever.

“What are they gonna do? Fine us for every ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ we let slip?” Lando scoffed, shaking his head as he, Charles, and Max sat in a conference room waiting for Y/N.

“They already have,” Carlos muttered, tossing a paper on the table. This was unacceptable. How were the drivers not allowed to CURSE? Were they toddlers?!

Y/N entered the room with a folder in hand, slamming it down with a force that made George sit up straighter. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” she began, voice crisp. “This rule is unconstitutional, violates multiple freedom of expression precedents, and is fundamentally stupid.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Hamilton said with an approving nod.

Y/N continued, eyes glinting. “The FIA is overstepping. Swearing is not slander, it is not defamatory, and it is not harming anyone except for some pearl-clutching bureaucrats who think drivers should be robots. I am filing a formal challenge.”

“A lawsuit?” Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

“A lawsuit,” Y/N confirmed, leaning forward. “We will argue that this rule is vague, arbitrary, and restricts free speech. We’ll also highlight that no other sport enforces such nonsense. If footballers can scream expletives mid-match and not get fined, why should you?”

Daniel Ricciardo grinned. “You are actually my hero.”

Max, arms crossed, smirked. “This is going to be fun.”

It was finally courtroom day.

The FIA’s lawyers sat across from Y/N, already shifting uncomfortably in their seats. She was poised, calm, and radiating pure authority. Dressed in an all black ensemble she looked like she ate losers for breakfast.

The lead FIA attorney cleared his throat. “Ms. Vettel, the FIA merely wishes to maintain a professional environment in post-race interviews for viewers.”

Y/N tilted her head, her smile sharp. “Define ‘professional,’ then. Because as far as I know, passion is part of the sport. Swearing out of frustration, joy, or sheer adrenaline doesn’t harm anyone. If anything, it makes drivers more relatable. Unless, of course, the FIA prefers that they all sound like pre-programmed AI.”

Murmurs from the audience. The drivers, seated together in the back, exchanged smirks.

“Furthermore,” Y/N continued, “this rule is selectively enforced. Are you prepared to produce data showing that every instance of swearing has caused a dip in viewership or complaints? Or will I have to subpoena past race interviews to prove bias?” (guys im sorry I googled most used lawyer terms so idk if its correct or not)

The FIA’s lawyers hesitated.

Y/N leaned in. “Let’s talk precedents. In 2019, the Court of Arbitration for Sport ruled that sports organizations cannot impose arbitrary speech restrictions unless they are justified by legitimate concerns. Tell me, gentlemen, what legitimate concern does the FIA have?”

The lead attorney fumbled with his papers.

Y/N smirked. “Nothing? Thought so.”

She turned to the judge. “We are requesting an injunction on this rule, as it is vague, inconsistently enforced, and lacks merit. We also seek damages for the fines already imposed.”

The judge glanced at the FIA’s team. “Do you have a counterargument?”

Silence.

Carlos leaned over to Charles. “She’s terrifying.”

“I know,” Charles whispered. “It’s bloody amazing.”

The ruling came swiftly. The swearing fines were scrapped.

The drivers were ecstatic. In celebration, Daniel made it his mission to curse as colorfully as possible in his next interview, just because he could.

Y/N received a round of applause when she walked back into the paddock that weekend. Max, standing off to the side, simply smiled. “Proud of you, schat.”

She nudged him playfully. “You should be. I’m basically the FIA’s worst nightmare now.”

Max grinned. “Oh, you definitely are.”

And she loved it.

Later that night, the drivers sat around in the paddock lounge, laughing as Lando held up his phone, Sebastian's name glowing on the screen.

“Do it, do it!” Charles urged, barely holding back his grin.

Lando hit the call button and put it on speaker. The dial tone rang before Sebastian picked up. “Lando?”

“Seb!” Lando beamed. “Mate, your sister is an absolute legend.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I assume she won?”

“Won? She obliterated them,” Daniel chimed in. “I’ve never seen FIA lawyers look like they wanted to evaporate before today.”

“She literally made them speechless,” George added. “It was… kind of scary.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically. “And to think, I used to help her with her homework.”

“You should be honored, mate,” Max teased. “Your sister might be more feared in F1 than you were.”

Sebastian groaned, but they could hear the pride in his voice. “Don’t tell her that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”

Lando grinned. “Too late.”

[rowdydevs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕚𝕩: 𝕄𝕪 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

𝙾𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: ward is awful to the reader, pet names, older!rafe, soft!rafe, brief mention of the reader’s late grandpa, and swearing

📖 based off an ask by lhhlver 💕 Hi babesss! Could you do one where like Rafe brings his pogue gf home for Christmas and it’s really awkward for her and she has anxiety but he’s there to comfort her and even stands up to his parents or something cuz they don’t like him dating a pogue? Just a thought 🫶🏼

Rafe’s POV:

Festive lights twinkle in the dim night, candles lit on all the windows. The balmy heat of the North Carolina summers exchanged for the chilly bite of winter.

We roll up the cobblestone drive, my hand resting on her upper thigh; the other twisted around the leather wheel. She hums along with the song, velvety and sweet, trying to distract herself from the inevitable. She looks beautiful, as always, a little more at peace than usual when she stops by my parent's place…

I know why, I'm not stupid… This dress helped, as did the shoes and the jewelry. Just simple gifts— nothing out of the ordinary. I love spoiling her.

Sure, it made her a little uncomfortable at first, but she settled into the fact that this was my love language. I wasn't buying her things to change her. I would never want to change her…

She lifts her hand, resting it in mine, her emerald dress catching the winter wind as she steps out of the car. I smile down at her, wrapping her tight in my arms as we take the last few steps up the walk.

I open the door, stepping inside watching her eyes glimmer, just a sliver of unease lingering that she’s trying her best to shrug away. She didn't come from this side of the island… But she belongs here with me, and that’s all that matters.

“You alright, princess?” I ask as I help her out of her fur coat.

She smiles at me, the kind that doesn't quite reach those pretty eyes of hers as she smoothes out the front of her dress. “Just nervous, baby. You know how I get.”

I lean in, kissing her forehead, lingering as I wrap my arms around her waist. “You got nothin’ to be nervous about, sweetheart.”

And I’m hoping that’s true.

Dinner was set like a scene from a Christmas movie. Their formal dining table’s arranged with crisp white linens and ruby centerpieces; Rose’s fine china is placed perfectly alongside delicate gold-trimmed plates.

I look down at the table, catching my old man's eye. His dark gaze flickers to her as she talks to Rose and Wheezie; the weight of his judgment is heavy, as usual. But even with that weight, conversation flows around him—the hum and laughter of the three women filling the dining room, regardless, somehow making him angrier.

She smiles at me, taking my breath away in a glance; my perfect girl. Graceful, kind, everything I ever wanted, but nothing I deserve. And then…

“So,” I simple word. His first utterance all night. Like nails on a goddamn chalkboard. His tone is smooth, spiked with a familiar edge that I’ve unfortunately become far too accustomed to myself. “Was that a gift?” He asks as he gestures lazily to the Cartier necklace around her throat. “N’that dress too, huh? Stunning.”

The table falls silent, and my stomach drops fast. I feel her hand tense in mine under the table, putting me on edge.

“Yeah, anniversary, I believe…” I smile, recalling the necklace. “And the dress, well, can you blame me? It was made for you, sweetheart,” I lower my voice. Lifting her hand to my lips, kissing the top, feeling her tremble with adrenaline.

Ward chuckles, swirling his Old Fashioned in his rocks glass; his laugh low, condescending. “Thought so. She looks well taken care of.” He drawls, talking about her like she’s not even there… Like she’s some kind of pet.

She bites her cheek, eyes shifting to the plate in front of her, confidence shrinking under Ward’s sharp stare.

“It always interests me when I see a fellow Pogue on this side of the island. Well, former Pogue,” he gestures to himself, giving us that old money laugh before taking a sip. Ward sucks his teeth, the dark liquor burning on it’s way down. “I was once in your shoes… Seems a Pogue turns Kook for two reasons: hard work or, well, what do you call it, sweetheart?”

“Dad,” I level my voice, cold and sharp enough to cut through the tension. “That’s enough. Yeah?”

He cocks an eyebrow in my direction, clearly amused. “Just a question, son.”

“Hmm… Yeah,” I chuckle back, borrowing his tone. “A cruel and classless question. Seems about right for you.”

The table falls deathly quiet, all eyes on her and I. Heat rises in my chest; my pulse pounding in my ears. I glance down at her, the hurt in her eyes all but breaking me.

“She’s here because I love her,” I continue, my voice steady but firm. “Not because of what I can give her. And if you can’t respect that, we’re gone.”

My dad finishes the rest of his drink before setting the empty glass on the table. Rose goes to speak, but I’m already pushing my chair back, helping her to her feet. I don't care about the gifts waiting under the tree or Rose’s carefully planned evening. None of this shit matters if she feels unwelcome.

“We’re goin’,” I say sharply, leaving it all behind.

The two of us leave, pulling out of the driveway faster than we came; her cheek shifted slightly to avoid my gaze. She doesn’t want to talk about it. I know her… She’s overwhelmed —her emotion boiling, threatening to spill over if I even utter the words, ‘Are you okay.’ She’s not… How could she be? She needs a minute. She just needs me to be close. I reach down, resting my hand on top of hers.

She looks down at the contact between us, the tears building on her waterline falling on her dress.

“Thank you, baby,” she mumbles hastily, like the words had been on the tip of her tongue for too long. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Of course I did, princess. Are you joking?” I ask as I steal a quick glance. “Nobody talks bad about my girl. Alright? No expectations,” I assure. “My dad… My dad’s an asshole. He’s got to understand that it’s a privilege to be around you.”

Her pretty lips tug to the side, fighting back more tears. “I don't care if he’s family or not, sweetheart. You're the most important thing to me. Okay?”

She looks up at me, eyes glassy. “I love you, Rafe,” she whispers as he lifts my hand, kissing my fingers one by one.

”I love you too, princess.”

“Where are we going?” She smiles softy at me from the passenger's seat as we pass our road, headed north.

“Change of plans. I just wanna go for a ride, princess. That alright?” I ask as I squeeze her thigh. She nods, turning up the music before relaxing into her seat.

She smiles as we roll into The Cut, gliding into a familiar parking lot. “Shells Diner?” She beams brightly, basking in the nostalgia of it all.

“Mhmm…” I hum as I lean over the center council. She grabs my cheeks, kissing me gently. “Met the prettiest little waitress here…” I whisper against her lips, feeling her smile against mine.

I trot around the car, helping her out just like I had at Tanneyhill, looking down at her beautiful eyes, that sliver of unease long gone.

The diner is a staple— nothing fancy, just a cozy, hole-in-the-wall place with peeling paint and a flickering neon sign. But it’s special.

The diner glows with a warm retro charm. It’s the kind of place that never changes; the scent of coffee and griddle-cooked meals clings to the walls. Christmas lights dangle messily along the ceiling. Dusty garland frames the windows; its shelf, cluttered with decorations.

The booths are well-worn, their red vinyl cushions cracked but familiar. A small Christmas tree stands in the corner by the jukebox, its ornaments mismatched but lovingly placed. The faint hum of holiday music filters through the speakers, blending with the occasional clatter of dishes from the back and the people scattered around.

Eyes shift nervously in my direction as they always do. My girl sees the good in me and might be the only one. I don’t blame the old waitresses for looking at me uneasily from time to time. But, when I’m with her, their judgment seems to fade away… If she’s happy, they're happy. And that’s the way it should be.

They greet her like they haven’t seen her in years, eyes wide as they take in her beauty, making her give them a little twirl in her fancy dress, chuckling about how they wanna hug her, but they’re afraid they’ll get her all dirty.

When we slide into the booth, she leans back, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watches me, and I’m hit with the most beautiful deja vu of the first time I saw her… The only thing that changed is that she’s mine.

I throw my coat off my shoulders, rolling up my sleeves, adjusting my Breitling watch, getting a taste for how out of place she must have felt tonight. Not even scratching the surface.

The waitress sets down our coffees and pie, the two of us alternating bites, our hands occasionally brushing ‘til I'm shifting out of the table, nestling myself next to her.

She cuddles into me as I feed her and myself, and she feeds me, the two of us chuckling every time our forks clash. The waitress comes over, drawing two fresh cups of coffee, steaming curling together.

After a while, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small wrapped box from her bag. Her hand is a little shaky as she slides it over to me with a nervous smile. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she whispers.

“You didn't have to, sweetheart,” I smile as my heart swells.

Inside is a pendant—simple but elegant. The band was made from her late grandfather’s gold bracelet, and I recognized the ruby right away. The name embossed on the velvet box lets me know it’s custom. She shaped into something timeless for me… something she knew I’d love. The metal glows softly in the diner’s dim light. I flip over the pendant, our initials looped in cursive, perfectly intertwined.

I stare at it for a moment, my fingers running over the smooth surface. “This—this is perfect, baby,” I breathe. “Thank you. I love it.”

“I’m glad... I love you,” she whispers, and I feel that in every fiber of my being.

“I love you too, princess.”

“Can you help me?” I smiles as I reach around my neck, fiddling awkwardly with the gold clasp, battling against my blunt nails. I turn slightly, the tight booth making it impossible for me to twist.

“Come here, baby,” she coos as she moves out of the booth. I push out and stand up, smiling down at her before turning around. She unclasps it easily, sliding on the pendant before clipping it again.

Her fingers run across my chest, my heart banging underneath, and I drop on one knee— the ring burning a hole in my pocket all night, lifting a weight off my chest when I show it to her.

“I’ve been waiting for the right moment…” My lips spread in a trembling, awkward smile. “I told you it’s a privilege to be around you. And I meant that. I want you to know that I’ve always known how lucky I got with you, princess. You have shown me love for the first time—real love. I want to take care of you like you take care of me. I hope you need me just a fraction of how much I need you. So, sweetheart, will you let me spend the rest of my life showin’ you just how much you mean to me?”

She smiles and nods happily as her hand meets mine, sniffling and holding back tears.

“Will you marry me?”

I slip the ring on her finger, and before I know it, her lips are on mine, pulling me closer, and everything and everyone else fades away.

[buttercandy16]

In-laws

PAIRING: Dark!Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: In-laws are the worst and you found out the hard way.

WARNING(s): Dark themes, Non-con, and a whole lot of SMUT!

A/N: Dark themes ahead. If you find these things disturbing I strongly advice that you skip this post. Thank you!

Y/N POV 

The night's cold breeze is crisp on my face as I stand outside the balcony thinking about how perfect my wedding tomorrow will be. 

Nicky and I have been together since my parents started working for his parents. At first, I was reluctant to engage in a romantic relationship with him since in the eyes of society we were unfit for each other, but he was persistent and in the end, I let love win. I was even more thankful that his parents accepted me and my family with open arms despite our lowly status in life. 

After years of being together, we are finally making it official tomorrow as husband and wife. 

I just finished celebrating my bachelorette party earlier which was neatly organized by one of my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Agatha. While Nicky is having his bachelor's party with his set of friends. 

Everything will be perfect, for sure nothing will go wrong. 

"Excited?" I was pulled out from my thoughts when Agatha appeared by my side with a bottle of wine in hand. 

For the record, I'm currently staying at Nicky's house. Both of his mothers insisted that I stay here before the wedding and I agreed.

"Yeah, I'm so excited to get married to Nicky!" I exclaimed excitedly. 

Agatha gave me a chuckle before waving the wine bottle in front of my face. 

"Good, then we better celebrate with this." 

"Ummm... I don't want to be rude, but I'll have to decline. I don't drink alcohol, remember?"

Agatha rolled her eyes at me before she leaned in closer to my ear. 

"Oh come on, sweetheart. That was different, this one we get to enjoy all to ourselves, and I think it's about time you try right? And it's not like we're gonna get wasted, you'll be fine tomorrow. I swear." 

I suppose... 

"O--okay then, but I'll only drink one glass.”

"One glass is enough" Agatha smiled at me mischievously before slightly pushing me inside the room. 

I was a bit nervous about how she was acting, she seemed pushy. But I was fast to dismiss that thought as she filled our glasses with wine. 

She gave me mine before sitting next to me on the sofa, only an arm's length away from each other. 

"Go on" she urged playfully... 

I swirled the wine in my glass slightly before carefully putting it to my lips and tentatively sipping the liquid. I found it delicious and very cooling.

“This is delicious!" 

"Yes, simple but very soothing. Finest wine you can ever have. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect." 

I eagerly did as I was told, and Agatha seemed satisfied with this. Soon I was holding an empty glass. I had drained it and hadn't even noticed. The drink was that smooth. The only problem is that I found that I was still thirsty. 

"Could I have another, please?" I asked, her eyes glinted with something dark from my request. 

"I think that can be arranged." 

Agatha was careful to replenish my glass whenever it emptied as we talked and talked into the night. 

It was quite odd, no matter how much I drink I still feel thirsty. 

I wondered if it was starting to affect me. I noticed that the room was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body becoming uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flush. My heart was beating very fast and I was practically panting, my breath had gotten so fast. I was starting to sweat inside my clothes, too. My clothes were becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. It was supposed to be a chilly evening. But now, I desire nothing more than to get out of my clothes, then I would feel so much better. 

"Have you and Nicholas done it yet?" Her question almost made me choke on my drink, her eyes never leaving mine. 

Am I hearing this right? Does she mean th--- 

She slowly traced the rim of her wineglass while looking at me curiously, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did you have sex yet?" 

Her question slightly took me aback but answered, nonetheless. 

"N--no, we haven't. I'm still pure" 

The moment I said pure, a shadow seems to pass on her features as the corner of her lips slightly lifted sinisterly, barely noticeable in the dark. 

But I saw it... 

She snickered under her breath as she slightly swirled the wine in her glass. 

That's when I realized that she's never touched it. Not even a single drop. 

She followed my gaze to her wine glass before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly. 

She knows that I've noticed. 

I was starting to feel uncomfortable from this so I decided that it was time to retire for the night. But when I stood up, I was immediately met by sudden dizziness making me sit back on the couch ungracefully. 

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave this room. I swayed for just a moment before Agatha caught me. There was nothing I could do now, and as I slowly slumped sideways, she gently tugged on my shoulder, causing me to lie flat, with my head on her lap. Now all I could see was my fiance's mother smiling down at me… and the world went black. 

_=_=_ 

How long I was out, I’m not sure. I opened my eyes, and it took them a moment to adjust to the light.

Something was wrong. 

My arms could not move, despite my best efforts, and the air felt rather cold on my skin. And when my eyes adjusted, I immediately saw why. My wrists had been secured firmly in two straps, on either side of my head. And the cool air on my skin was because I'm completely naked! 

I tried to scream my lungs out, to shout for help, to do anything that might get me out of this situation. But the only thing that came out was a muffled sound. That has something to do with the gag placed over my mouth. But it did draw some attention to me because a figure suddenly appeared over my vulnerable form, and when it spoke, I heard the unmistakable voice of my fiance's mother. 

"So, you're finally awake" 

"I think before you try going off on one, I should probably introduce you to a bit of "context," I think you'd call it." She reached for the table next to her and picked up a remote. She turned on the TV that was positioned just above the bed I was strapped to. "Let's just say you might want to forget about struggling when I show you this video." 

My confusion made me forget my anger, for a moment. But as the film started, and what I was watching became clear to me, my anger was replaced by shock and horror. 

It was a video of me and my co-worker Tony, sitting in my office, and him kissing me. It had been a professional meet-up, he was showing me some files that we needed to sort out before the big presentation when out of the blue he just kissed me. I froze out of shock while his lips continued to press against mine but when I finally snapped out of it I immediately pushed him off me and gave him an ear-deafening slap on the face. But that wasn't shown in the film. It was just the kiss, making it look like I did it deliberately. I remembered him looking at me in pity like he was sorry for what he did. I didn't tell anyone about it, not even Nicky. And now my soon-to-be mother-in-law possesses proof of it.

But how? Why was there a video? Based on the angle I know it was filmed from a hidden camera. Was it done intentionally? For what reason?! Was she behind it? 

If someone got hold of it, I wouldn't just get fired from fraternizing with a colleague. I would probably lose Nicky as well. 

And that scared me shitless... 

Agatha pressed another button, and the video switched off. She looked at my face, now starting to become tear-stained and the fear now plain for everyone to see. She smiled. 

"I think that expression is a good one for you," she remarked. "It makes you look so sweet and innocent." 

She leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn't. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava. 

"Now that no one is going to disturb us, how about we get some fun done?" 

Agatha then began to touch me, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "Aww… such a nice body, pet! I can't help myself but touch myself thinking about you every day. And now, I can't help myself anymore." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg. 

"What should I do first with your body?" She ran her finger on my smooth skin, before taking the gag off my mouth. 

I gritted my teeth from both anger and sadness. "Why are you doing this?" 

"Didn't I already tell you? I want your body to be mine! We are going to have so much fun, pet. And if you disobey me, I think you already know what will happen right? Not to mention, I can get  both of your parents fired, tsk... that would be unfortunate" 

A single tear ran on my cheek and Agatha kissed it, licking the drop. I know that I have no other choice but to let things happen. I have so much to lose if she doesn't get what she wants. 

She moved around and brought our lips together in a violent kiss, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth. She bit my bottom lip hard enough to earn a gasp, allowing her to move her tongue past the barrier. 

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch it could. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events made me horny. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her shirt, skirt, and underwear away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Eat up!" She said in a commanding voice, but I hesitated. The woman gritted her teeth in anger and grabbed my hair. "I ordered you to eat up!" She forced my mouth to get in contact with her entrance. 

Out of reflex, I attempted to close my mouth, but then felt a pair of forces crushing my head from both sides as her legs pressed me. The pain was enough to make me gasp. She took the opportunity to tighten her grip on my hair and pressed me harder. 

"That's more like it!" She started to move her body up and down, making my juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours to work baby" She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I can't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Agatha’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet.

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good. The pleasure coursing through my veins like a blast of adrenaline... 

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my second orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down on me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Agatha kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me to reach something on the nightstand. When I saw what it was, my eyes grew wide as saucers... 

Oh no... please no more 

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled with my bonds as I tried to pull myself away from her. 

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give mommy one more baby. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. The buzzing vibrator held against my clit sped up a notch, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Agatha cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, our foreheads practically touching on the pillow. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, pet,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking cute, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Agatha’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the third time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out. 

_=_=_ 

A groan left my lips when I woke up in the middle of the night with a sore body. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was no longer chained to the bed and I was all alone in the room. 

Seeing this as an opportunity to get the hell outta here I immediately grabbed my clothes that were placed on the vanity chair before frantically dressing. 

No longer caring if I was dressed right I immediately ran towards the door but stopped when it suddenly opened, revealing my fiance’s other mother, Rio Vidal dressed in her expensive suit. 

"Ri-rio..." 

"Sweethear, what are you doing here?" Rio asked as she curiously surveyed my disheveled form. 

"Rio, you have to help me, please" I pleaded as I went closer to her. 

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked as she gently held my arm. 

"It's A–agatha, she---" 

"Hello, my love! You're home early," My words were cut off as Agatha appeared from the bathroom only covered by a plush purple robe. "It seems you caught our little bunny trying to hop away." She smiled devilishly... 

Wha-what? 

"Which is quite fortunate, I wouldn't want to miss out" Rio chuckled darkly. "But I'm very disappointed that you started without me, my love." 

"Well, you were late. It's been so long since I wanted a taste of her. I lost all self-control the moment I had her in my grasp. But don't worry, I saved the best for you." 

My eyes widened in realization and I felt my whole body shiver in fear as I heard the door's lock click. Locking me inside with two predators hungry for my young flesh... 

Nonononono... this isn't happening... 

Tears started to fall from my eyes as Agatha walked over to me, and Rio’s hand settled over my shoulders in a tight and almost painful hold. 

Agatha looked down on me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"Do you know the real reason why we let our son be with someone as lowly as you? It's because the moment we saw you, we knew that we needed to have you. Our perfect little toy." My heart ached from her words. So after all this time, I was nothing but a fool. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you will get married to my son tomorrow and officially become part of our family. You will be a good wife to him and grant him the children he desires. But behind closed doors, you will become our pretty little pet and cater to our needs. Do you understand?" I nodded weakly.

"But the most important thing is... Nicky must never know about this little arrangement of ours. This secret will stay with you until you reach your grave, or else... I'm pretty sure you are aware of the power that we hold Y/N, if you go against us, we will destroy you and your loved ones. Do I make myself clear?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

Agatha's eyes moved from behind me as Rio pressed her lips to my ear as she whispered... 

"If you behave like a good little girl for us, we will reward you with anything you desire, aside from your freedom of course." 

"Since that's all settled then, I think it's time for the main event" 

"Wh-what would that be?" I fearfully asked. 

Agatha smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"We're going to take your virginity baby"

_=_=_

Please don't forget to like, repost, and leave a comment below. I love hearing other peoples thoughts about this. Also, if you have any good ideas for a Dark fanfic featuring mother agatha please do send it. Thanks! 💜

[illyrianbrat]

Queen's Envoy

Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader

Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.

Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)

N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess

“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”

Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.

-

Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.

Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.

She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.

“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.

“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.

“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”

Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.

“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.

The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."

“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.

They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.

They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."

[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."

Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.

-

Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.

Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.

As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.

Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.

As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”

[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”

-

Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.

After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.

There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.

[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."

"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."

-

Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.

He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.

“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.

She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"

He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”

[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.

Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”

Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.

“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”

Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.

Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.

Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.

Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.

Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.

After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."

“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..

“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.

“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.

[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.

“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

[honeyryewhiskey]

‧☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ morning brew

synopsis ☕︎ if you’re opening up the cozy cup café, you can count on the winchesters being your first customers of the day.

j’s note ☕︎ i definitely got this idea from a text post on here but i cannot find it :( this is so cheesy too like idk i forgot how to write idk

warnings ☕︎ getting flirted at by both brothers <3 NOT IN A WEIRD WAY I SWEAR and they are firefighters btw 800 word count

The morning air was crisp as you unlocked the door to the coffee shop, the familiar jingle of the bell echoing through the quiet space. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air as you moved behind the counter, switching on machines and setting out pastries for the morning rush. It was a peaceful ritual, the kind that made you feel at home, but there was one thing—or rather, two—you looked forward to the most every morning.

Right on cue, the bell chimed again.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was smooth, warm like the coffee you were about to pour. He leaned against the counter, his fire department T-shirt snug around his biceps, suspenders hanging loose over his hips. His hair was slightly tousled, a sure sign that he’d either just finished a shift or rolled straight out of bed.

“Morning, trouble,” you teased, already reaching for his usual, bland cup of joe. 

A deep chuckle sounded from behind him, and you looked up past Dean to see Sam, standing with his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. “You know, you don’t have to encourage him,” Sam chides, shaking his head at his brother before turning his full attention to you. “Morning, little miss. How’s our favorite barista today?”

You felt warmth creep up your cheeks at the way he said it—soft, like you were the most important part of his morning.

“Better now that my two favorite firemen are here,” you reply, flashing them both a grin as you start their orders. Dean’s large coffee, always paired with a cherry filled croissant. Sam’s oat milk latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon—he once rattled on about the benefits of cinnamon, good for the heart or something like that. You were too distracted by the way his head tilted and hands moved when he talked to really remember what he had said. 

Dean let out a low whistle, resting his forearms on the counter as he leaned in closer. “Now, see, that’s not fair. You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re gonna start fighting over who gets to save you first.”

Sam rolled his eyes but grinned. “I think we both know who’s better at the whole rescuing thing.”

“Oh, please, Sammy. I carry people out of burning buildings for a living.”

“And I take care of them once they’re out of the fire.” Sam shot back, flashing you a dimpled smile as he took his cup from your outstretched hand. “Who’s the real hero here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You two are impossible.”

Dean took a sip of his coffee, humming appreciatively before shooting Sam a look. “Alright, hotshot, if you’re so great, let’s see you top this.” Then, turning back to you, he dropped his voice, his green eyes locked on yours. “Sweetheart, if you ever find yourself in a fire, just know—I’d run through it to get to you.”

Sam groaned. “Really?”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, but Dean was giving you that cocky little smirk that made it hard to breathe. Dean’s charm always seems to peak when he’s not trying, but his clumsy attempts at pick-up lines never fail to make you smile. Before you could respond, Sam leaned in, brushing his fingertips over yours as you handed him his change. “Or,” he interjects, his voice soft and teasing, “you could just come by the station sometime. We’ll give you a private tour.”

Dean scoffed. “That’s not even smooth.”

You grinned, resting your elbows on the counter as you looked between them. “You two end up doing this every morning, like clockwork, y’know that?”

Dean shot you a wink. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

Sam nodded, his eyes tracing over your figure. “Yeah. Only you.”

Your heart did a funny little flip as they both watched you, waiting, teasing, charming in their own way. And maybe, just maybe, you liked this game just as much as they did.

Sam let out a sigh and clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder, steering him toward the door. “Alright, we’ve distracted her long enough. She actually has work to do, and we’re taking up too much of her time.”

Dean huffed but let himself be ushered out, turning at the last second to flash his boyish smile with a little wave good-bye. Sam, already halfway through the door, glanced back over his shoulder with a smirk. “We’ll be right down the street if you need us.”

The bell jingled as they left, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, grinning to yourself as you turned back to the counter, your morning just a little brighter than before.

tags ☕︎ @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @daylighted @jollyhunter @soldiersgirl @bejeweledinterludes @bluemerakis @cowboysandcigarettes @dulcescorderitas @couturewinx @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @snowluvvie

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Under the Mistletoe || OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x bff!fem!reader Summary: Sick of his friends pining for each other but two stupid to realise it was mutual, Logan sets about making sure they both get their Christmas wish. Warnings: pining, angst, fluff WC: 2.2k

“Hold up, let me find his spare key,” Logan said as he balanced his box on top of the one you already carried.

“Just use mine,” you said as you carefully turned. “Back pocket, left. Other left, dude.”

“My bad.” Logan grabbed the keychain and tried the ones that weren’t your car or letterbox keys. “He gave you a key?”

“Just so I can water the plants while he’s away, and make sure the stove is turned off.”

Logan laughed, turning the right key and opening the door. “He doesn’t even cook.”

You shrugged and followed him into Oscar’s house. “Doesn’t stop him thinking he’s left it on as soon as he’s at the airport.”

It was like walking into your own apartment, there was a home comfort to hanging your keys on the hook that had your initials and hanging your coat on the rack. Picking your box up again, you followed Logan to the kitchen and deposited it on the bench before grabbing two glasses and pouring you both a much deserved drink.

“This is why people don’t believe you are ‘just friends’,” Logan stated, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him and continued to help yourself to the snacks Oscar kept stocked for you.

“Just shut up and hang the decorations before I overlook your usefulness.”

Logan returned to his box, unpacking the tinsel and bunting that you had bought. “At least you didn’t deny it this time.”

“We are definitely just friends, Lo.” You looked down at the crisp packet and muttered under your breath, “I’m not his type anyway.”

You didn’t notice Logan pause, but you did look up when he shoved his handful back in the box. “What?”

“What?” you echoed.

“What did you say?”

“We are just friends.”

“No, after that.” He leaned back against the kitchen benchtop and crossed his arms. “How do you know you’re not his type?”

“Because we are friends, we talk about these things,” you said with a shrug. “Can we not talk about this right now? He’s going to be home in a few hours.”

“We have time,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “What makes you think you’re not his type?”

You huffed in annoyance and grabbed the decorations yourself, taking them to the living room since Logan was going to be no help. “Because I’m not, okay. He likes funny girls. He wants someone he can have a laugh with to take his mind off work when he gets home. And pretty too, actually he said ‘beautiful’.”

“Okay…” Logan stared at you until you grew uncomfortable.

“And he's surrounded by models at every event.”

“So why isn’t he dating one of them then?”

“Because his standards are obviously high if they aren’t pretty enough for him. I don’t stand a chance.”

Logan shook his head and groaned. “Have you told him that you love him?”

“Of course I have, I tell him all the time.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You gave him a look that warned him not to ask another stupid question. “I’m not going to risk our friendship when my relationships never end well. I’d rather be his friend forever, than an ex I never see again.”

“God, you are both so stupid.” Logan brushed you aside as you tried to jump and reach the hooks high up the wall. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

You watched on as he hung the tinsel around the room with minimal guidance needed and deemed it safe enough to leave him in charge. Oscar was fairly tidy, compared to the other men you know, but his pet hate was making his bed. He would always leave it unmade claiming he was only going to make it messy again that night.

You went upstairs and made the bed before seeing the laundry basket was overflowing. He mustn’t have had time to do it between his trip to Baku, the McLaren Factory and then his short trip home to Melbourne. That was why you were in his house, setting it up for another Christmas he would miss with his family. You didn’t want him to feel alone so you were bringing Australia to him.

You lost track of time when you found his whites mixed in with the colours and you tutted to yourself as you separated them to soak in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Oscar said when he found you in his laundry, both the dryer and the washing machine working as hard as you.

“Hey, you’re home!” You dropped the clothes you were folding and threw your arms around him. His tired chuckle made your heartbeat a little fast as he embraced you back and buried his face in your neck. “How’s mum and dad? And your sisters? Did they like the presents?”

His head grew heavier as he leaned against you and nodded. “Of course they did, you always know what they want.”

“Not me, you,” you corrected as you brushed a hand over his messy hair. “You got them remember.”

Oscar pulled back with a shy smile. “I think everyone knows you are the mastermind. I would have just given them a gift card.”

You laughed at the truth as the dryer finished another load but Oscar took your hand and towed you out of the laundry. “I’ll do it later,” he stated. “Logan’s already got the tree up but there’s one thing missing.”

Your jaw dropped as you saw the living room had been completely transformed into an Australian Christmas so Oscar would feel at home. A pine tree sat in the corner of the room, needles scattered around the base from trying to manoeuvre it into place. Like the ceiling, green and gold tinsel snaked around the tree but it was the floor that caught your eye.

“The sand was meant to be in the pool,” you laughed as you pointed to the small children’s sized blow up pool still in the box. Logan had poured the bags of golden sand around the tree and the wooden floor now resembled a tiny beach.

“You know, that makes more sense,” Logan admitted.

You bit your lip but it did little to stifle the laugh and when Oscar’s deeper laugh joined there was no holding back. The three of you collapsed laughing onto the couch to embrace the beach themed room and you kicked your shoes off to dig your toes into the sand.

“It’s so weird to imagine,” you chuckled, the snow falling outside a complete contradiction to the scene inside. The central heating had been cranked up to its hottest setting and it truly felt like summer. “Christmas is for making snowmen and having hot chocolate by the fire.”

Oscar draped his arm over the back of your cushion and stretched his legs out after his long flight. “How about next year I can take you home to experience this first hand?”

You smiled at the idea but you couldn’t make that commitment by saying yes, even if you wanted nothing more than to make it happen. “Maybe, let’s just see what the year brings. Who knows, you might want to take your girlfriend home.”

He looked at you with a frown. “I don’t have a girlfriend, yet.”

“Exactly, yet.”

“Idiots,” Logan mumbled as he got up. “I’m getting a drink. You guys want one?”

You both thanked him and as he left the room Oscar patted your knee. “Star time.”

You grinned at the fact he remembered your favourite part of setting the tree up and his hands settled on your hips when you reached it. “I can’t be bothered getting the ladder out,” he said before he picked you up. You placed the glittery star on the highest point and adjusted it a few times more than necessary until Oscar laughed and eased you down. But his hands still remained on your hips. “It’s perfect.”

Logan returned and the moment shattered as you took your drink from him and cleared your throat. “Merry Christmas, my orphan friends.”

“Thanks for the adoption,” Logan chuckled. “If I can’t spend Christmas with my family it’s nice to at least have you guys.”

“That probably sounded better in his head,” Oscar teased before raising his glass too. “But he’s right, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Your cheeks warmed at the smile on his face and you were sure he felt it when he pressed a chaste kiss to one. A little frazzled, you tried to hide the effect he had on you and pointed to the mess on the floor. “Do you think we can build a sandcastle?”

“No, but I think we can build a snowman. Go put your coat on, I know you want to.”

You didn’t have to be told twice and Logan laughed as Oscar followed you to the backyard. “You two have fun, I like the heat more.”

Your breath misted as it hit the chilly air and you rushed to pull your gloves on, something you should have done before stepping outside.

“Here, let me,” Oscar offered, shoving his own in his pocket in the meantime. He took your woollen mittens and held them open for you before tightening the wrists and sealing the warmth that remained inside. “You look like a marshmallow.”

You bent down and started to collect the snow needed to make the first ball and narrowed your eyes at him when he joined you a moment later, his gloves already on. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he smirked. “Marshmallows are cute.”

“Cute?” You wrinkled your nose and gently nudged him with your shoulder. “Now that’s an insult.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “To you or the marshmallow?”

“Uh, both,” you decided with a definitive nod.

“Okay, sorry,” he apologised and then bit his bottom lip as he stared at you over the growing snowball. “Marshmallows are beautiful and my favourite thing in the whole wide world. I love marshmallows.”

“Wow, weirdo, they aren’t that great.”

Logan had been about to ask if you wanted another drink but instead he closed the kitchen window. “Marshmallows, idiots.”

“Not bad for an Aussie,” you commented as you wrapped your arms around his waist and admired the finished product. “A shame you didn’t have a carrot in your fridge.”

Oscar pushed the cucumber nose in further to stop it drooping down before hugging you tighter. “Or a spare scarf, you must be freezing.” He pulled his own off one and draped it around your neck so yours could stay on the snowman. “Ready to go back in?”

You nodded reluctantly and let him go, following him into the warmth where Logan sat in the leather recliner watching Home Alone. “Nice to see you waited for the rest of us,” Oscar noted as he dropped onto the couch and pulled you down with him. 

“You know it word for word.”

“So do you.”

“I ran out of things to do,” he said with a shrug.

Everything had been seen up so you were confused by the statement. “What did you do?”

Logan didn’t answer as he tossed another handful of popcorn in his mouth before blindly pointing in your direction, but higher. You and Oscar looked up and found a small wreath hanging where a picture frame of the Albert Park F1 circuit was, woven into the greenery you spotted it - Mistletoe. 

“Dude!” “Mate!”

Logan laughed to himself and kept watching the movie. “You know the rules. Kiss or streak in the snow.”

“I don’t remember it being streaking,” Oscar commented as he turned to you.

You looked at him too, your eyes drifting down to his lips. You had spent countless daydreams imagining how they would feel against yours.

“Don’t overthink it, the rule needed changing,” Logan mumbled. “So…”

“It’s really cold outside,” you murmured as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his. 

“Way too cold,” he agreed with the smallest of nods. The air was pregnant with the pause before he exhaled and reached for you. His hand curled behind your nape and drew you closer, so slowly you weren't sure he was going to change his mind or thinking you would. If only he knew.

Your heart thumped loudly as you felt his breath on your skin and your hands found their way to his shoulders and ran along the thick muscles that climbed his neck. “Osc,” you whispered softly as you felt the warmth radiating off his lips but still they didn’t touch.

“Yeah?” he asked, the corners tugging up as he heard the need in your tone.

“Please...”

He pulled back just far enough to see the burning desire in your eyes and his thumb stroked your jawline. “Been waiting years for this.”

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but you both moved together, his mouth slanting over yours perfectly like they were made to complement each other. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you tasted the beer on his tongue when he slipped it between your parted lips with a deep moan.

Popcorn rained over your heads and you broke apart to glare at the very smug looking man responsible. “About fucking time! I love you, but you are both idiots.”

[satorusluver]

Dilf!Toji x college student!reader

Word count: 800 ish

Tags: smut (MDNI), slight fluff, fem reader, age difference, p in v, mating press, doggy style, mild degradation

A/N: I can't get dilf college au Toji out of my mind so....

Although it had been a couple of years since his wife died, Toji hadn't had the time to date. He was too busy balancing his work and single fatherhood, especially now that he was going back to school. Instead, he settled for the occasional dating app hookup to get his needs met. Until he met you.

You had to be what, ten, twelve years his junior? But you were a pretty little thing, and no matter how much you tried to hide it, you practically drooled over your older dilf classmate. Toji didn't miss the way you eyed him every time he walked into class, or how easily you would get flustered with just a bit of flirting on his part. Toji didn't have time to date, no, but that didn't mean the two of you couldn't come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

After all, Megumi often needed a babysitter on nights Toji worked overtime. Toji was quite up front with you about it -you watch his son for a couple of hours until he got home from work, and in return Toji would reward you with a crisp twenty and by folding you in half like a lawn chair on his bed and pounding your cervix with the fat, precum-dripping head of his eight inch dick until you soaked his sheets with your cum.

"Oh, fuck, To-oji!" you cry, your orgasm rocking through you as your messy cunt squirted all over Toji's wide girth. He loved seeing you like this, your knees against your chest and your eyes rolled back in bliss as he fucked you completely dumb on his cock. And Toji, well, he had quite the mouth on him in the heat of the moment, something which he'd warned you about ahead of time.

"Atta girl, don't gotta fuckin' think, do you? Just gotta cum for me. Ohh fuck, that little pussy's squeezin' me so tight," he huffs, leaning his massive, muscled form over you to achieve an even deeper angle as he fucks into you harshly. The overstimulation of him hitting that spongy spot inside you so hard makes your toes curl and your body arch into him, unable to get enough even if it's too much.

"What're you even in college for, princess? We both know your real job is taking my dick. You should just quit and become Megumi's stepmother so I can fuck you this good every night. Wouldn't you like that, princess? Hungry little cockslut that you are, practically beggin' for my dick the moment I walked in the door." But instead of answering him, you slap a hand over your mouth to keep your sobs of pleasure from being heard by Megumi, who was currently watching cartoons just down the hall.

You both knew it was his dick talking, that he didn't really mean it, but when he was balls deep in your sweet, tight heat and your needy little cunt was sucking him back in with every thrust, he'd utter things he'd never otherwise dare.

"Fuuuck yeah, wouldn't mind coming home to this everyday, having this pretty little pussy waiting for me." As he speaks, he reaches his hands down to gently spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, getting a good look at your puffy pink folds and swollen clit that glisten with your mixed juices.

You'd never admit it to him, he was cocky enough already, but you think his dick might've spoiled you for all other men. He was by far bigger than any of your exes, and far more experienced thanks to his age. The ease with which he managed to find your g-spot never ceased to amaze you, and not one time have you had sex with him without him getting you off at least twice.

As the semester dragged on, you kept coming back for more. One night after a shitty first date you show up to his house all dolled up and holding back tears after your date went to the bathroom and never came back, and it's mere minutes before he's ruining your so carefully done makeup by shoving your face into his pillowcase and fucking the melancholy from your failed date right out of you.

"He was a fuckin' dumbass, that guy," Toji says as the two of lie next to each other in the afterglow. "Leavin' a girl like you alone like that. If I took you out, I'd show you a good time...well, I just did show you a good time," he adds with a chuckle.

"But you know what I mean. If...if you were up for that..." he mumbles, nervously scratching the back of his dark, now disheveled hair.

"I thought you didn't have time to date?" you ask him, although your tone is light and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, well, for you...maybe I do."

[queenshelby]

A Little Help (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Virgin Reader

Warning: Smut

The summer sun beats down on the white sandy beach, a stark contrast to the cool, crisp air inside the beach house.

You sit on the plush sofa, legs tucked under your body, nursing a cold beer, trying to calm the storm brewing within.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, and now, being here at Max's family beach house, away from the comfort of your own home, the tension between you and Max feels even more palpable.

              You'd been so excited for this trip, imagining romantic walks on the beach, cozy movie nights, and finally, the perfect opportunity to take your relationship with Max to the next level. But now, as you sip your drink, you can't help but feel a sense of dread. The memory of the previous night's failed attempt at intimacy still stings.

              Max had been eager, his hands exploring your body with a sense of urgency that left little room for your pleasure. He'd tried to push past your barriers, both physical and emotional, and when the pain became too much, he'd pulled away, frustration evident on his face. "It's not me, it's you," he'd said, his voice laced with accusation. "There must be something wrong with you."

              Those words had cut deep, and now, as you sit in the beach house, you can't shake the feeling of embarrassment and hurt. You knew Max's family well, having been friends with him for years, but this new dynamic between you and Max was uncharted territory.

              Just as you take another sip, trying to gather your thoughts, the sound of the front door opening startles you. It's Cillian, Max's dad, returning from his morning jog. His lean figure fills the doorway, and his bright blue eyes scan the room until they land on you.

              "Hey, there you are," he says, his voice warm and inviting. "I thought I heard someone in here. How’s everything going?"

              You manage a weak smile, setting your drink down. "Oh, hi, Cillian. I'm okay, I guess. Just enjoying the peace before everyone wakes up."

              Cillian steps into the room, closing the door behind him. "Peace is good," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies your face. "But something tells me there's more to it. You've been a bit quiet since you arrived. Is everything alright between you and Max?"

              You feel your cheeks warm under his gaze. How could Cillian sense the tension so easily? You clear your throat, looking down at your hands. "It's just... things are a bit weird at the moment. Max and I... we had a bit of a disagreement."

              "A disagreement, huh?" Cillian sits beside you, his casual demeanour making it easy to forget the age gap between you. "About what, if you don't mind me asking? I'm not one to pry, but I can't help but notice something's off."

              You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs. Here you were, about to confess your intimate struggles to Max's father. "It's... it's about sex," you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. You feel your face heat up, and you're certain your cheeks are now the colour of ripe tomatoes. You immediately regret what you had just said, and you have absolutely no intention to talk with your boyfriend’s father about intimacy.

Cillian, however, already knows about the problem. His son had mentioned something like this to him before and Cillian had given him a lecture to be more considerate,

              Thus, Cillian's eyebrows shoot up, but he remains composed. "Sex, huh? Well, that's... quite the topic,” he says, swallowing harshly before, reluctantly, adding  “I assume this is about your first time?"

              You nod, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment as you confess. "It's just not working. I mean, we've tried, but it hurts. A lot. And Max, he gets frustrated, and he said it's my fault, that I must have some kind of problem."

              "Oh Y/N. I am sorry," Cillian says, his voice gentle. "That's not right. Max should know better. It's not your fault. First times can be tricky, and it's not uncommon for it to be a little uncomfortable. But it should never be painful."

              His words are like a soothing balm to your wounded pride. You find yourself wanting to tell him everything, to seek his guidance and understanding. "It's not just the first time. We've tried a few times now, and it's always the same. I can't relax, and it just won't fit. I've even tried by myself, but it's no use."

              Cillian's eyes widen slightly as he takes a seat next to you and leans back, considering your words. "Max needs to learn some patience, that's for sure. And he should be doing more to make sure you're ready. It's not just about him, you know."

              You nod, feeling a surge of validation. "That's what I thought, too. But he just gets so... frustrated. And I feel like I'm letting him down."

              "Nonsense," Cillian says firmly. "Max is just young, and he's got a lot to learn at that age, but that’s no excuse and you need to know that it is never your job to please him at the expense of your own comfort."

              His words resonate with you, and you feel a weight lift from your shoulders. Cillian's understanding and support are like a breath of fresh air.

              "I wish I could talk to Max like this," you say, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "He just doesn't seem to get it."

              Cillian chuckles, a deep, warm sound. "Max is a good kid, but he's still learning. And sometimes, we all need a little guidance. I'd be happy to have a chat with him, if you'd like. Set him straight on a few things."

              You consider his offer, the thought of Cillian talking to Max about sex both amusing and comforting. "Oh god no… I mean, it's a bit awkward, isn't it?”

              "Yeah, maybe," Cillian agrees before thinking about something else. “But, look, why don't we do this? I'll have a word with Max, without mentioning our little talk and see if I can get through to him. In the meantime, why don't we work on helping you relax and enjoy yourself? No pressure, just some friendly guidance."

              You look at Cillian, his eyes sparkling with kindness, and you feel a surge of trust. "You mean, you and me, uhm…trying?” you stammer and Cillian nods reluctantly.

“Sure, I mean, I do have some experience. But no pressure, alright?” he says, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I'd do anything to help my son's girlfriend, especially one as lovely as you. And besides, I remember what it was like when I was his age. A little guidance would've gone a long way."

              The idea of Cillian helping you sends a shiver down your spine, but it's not an unpleasant sensation. You trust him, and the thought of learning from him, of being guided by his experience, is strangely enticing.

              "Alright," you agree, a sense of determination building within you. "I'd like that. I want to enjoy this, and I want Max to understand. Maybe then we can really make this work."

"I think we will be able to, although this needs to stay our little  secret, right?" Cillian says, his voice low and reassuring. "I won't tell Max, and you won't either."

You nod, agreeing to his terms. "Okay, I can do that. I just want this to work and I want to enjoy it."

Cillian smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Good, good. So how about this? I will meet you at the guestroom tonight, at around 11?"  Cillian asks, standing up and stretching his lean, muscular frame. The setting sun casts a warm glow over his short grey hair, making him look even more approachable and kind.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "Okay, that sounds good. I'll be ready."

Cillian smiles, a reassuring and gentle smile. "Great. And remember, no pressure. We'll take this at your pace. I just want you to feel comfortable and enjoy yourself."

You return his smile, feeling a sense of relief and anticipation. "Thank you, Cillian. I will see you tonight, " you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you watch Cillian walk away, his shoulders and confident stride leaving you with a sense of security. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You know that tonight is going to be different, and you're ready to take this step.

At 11 o'clock on the dot , you make your way to the guestroom, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the floor.

Cillian is already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back straight and his eyes fixed on you as you enter. He's changed into a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans that hug his muscular thighs. 

"Hey," he says, his voice low and gentle. "You ready for this?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I think so. I want to try, at least."

Cillian smiles encouragingly, patting the bed beside him. "Good. Come here, sit with me."

You walk over and sit down, your body tense and nervous. Cillian puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His touch is warm and comforting, and you can feel your muscles begin to relax.

"First thing we need to do is get you comfortable," Cillian says, his voice low and soothing. "We're not going to rush anything, alright? We'll take this slow."

You nod, leaning into his touch.

His arm around you feels natural, and you can't help but feel safe with him. Cillian's fingers gently stroke your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

"That's it, just relax," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "There's no rush. We've got all night."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Cillian's hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft and reassuring, and you feel a flutter in your stomach. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. It's soft and tender, a stark contrast to the urgency you've felt with Max.

Cillian's kiss is patient, his lips moving gently against yours, coaxing a response from you. You part your lips slightly, and his tongue slips inside, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate pace. You can taste the faint hint of mint on his breath, and it's strangely comforting.

His hand moves from your chin to your neck, his fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin. You can feel your heart racing, your breath coming in short gasps as his touch sends waves of heat through your body. Cillian pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he finds none, he smiles softly and leans in again, this time deepening the kiss.

His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. You can feel your body responding, your nipples hardening beneath your thin t-shirt. Cillian's hand moves from your neck to your breast, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple through the fabric. You gasp into his mouth, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire. You nod, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, it's okay. It's more than okay," you whimper. 

Encouraged, Cillian's hand moves to the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin just above your waistband.

You shiver at his touch, your body aching for more. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly lifts your shirt over your head, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Absolutely fucking stunning."

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel desired, wanted. Cillian leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

Cillian's mouth is hot and wet, his tongue flicking against your nipple, sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. He takes his time, lavishing attention on one breast before moving to the other, his fingers gently teasing and pinching your neglected nipple.

"That feels nice," you whisper, your voice barely audible, as you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his mouth. He smiles against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine.

"Good, I am glad,"  he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Now why don't you lie down for me,"  he instructs, his tone gentle but firm. He wants you to be comfortable, and he wants to see you sprawled out in front of him.

You do as he says, your heart pounding in your chest as you lie back on the soft bed, your body tense with anticipation. Cillian's eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve and line, and you can feel his gaze like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You shiver at his words, your body aching for his touch.

He leans down, his breath hot on your skin as he trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gently caressing your sides. You can feel his fingers tracing the waistband of your shorts, and you arch your back, silently begging for more.

Cillian hooks his fingers into your waistband, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls them down, revealing your bare pussy to his hungry gaze. You can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel desired, wanted.

"You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "And I really want to taste you."

"Taste me?" you whisper, your voice barely audible as you look at Cillian. "I... I've never done that before."

Cillian smiles reassuringly, his fingers gently tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "It's okay. It will feel good. I promise." 

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax. Cillian's touch is gentle yet firm, his fingers teasing your skin, sending waves of heat through your body.

"Now spread your legs for me, okay? Let me see that pretty little pussy of yours," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a rush of embarrassment, but the intensity in his eyes makes you feel safe. You slowly part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully. Cillian's gaze locks onto your most intimate area, and you can see the hunger in his eyes.

"Fuck, you’re gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I could look at you all day."

You blush at his words, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel beautiful, desired. He leans in, his breath hot on your inner thigh, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coursing through your veins.

He starts at your knee, his lips pressing soft, gentle kisses up your thigh, his stubble rough against your soft skin. You can feel your breath hitching in your throat, your body tensing with each kiss, each touch.

Cillian's lips are warm and wet, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your inner thigh, his stubble rough against your soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You can feel the heat building between your legs, your pussy aching with need. Cillian's eyes flick up to meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sees the desire written all over your face. He leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coursing through your veins.

Cillian's eyes meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sees the desire written all over your face. He leans in, his tongue flicking out to taste your clit, and you gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

"Ssh, it's okay , I got you" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. You can feel your body responding, your hips bucking against his mouth as he eats you out. 

Cillian's fingers gently part your folds, his tongue delving deeper, tasting your wetness. He looks up at you, his eyes locked on yours as he slides one finger inside you, his tongue continuing to work its magic on your clit.

"Is that okay?" he asks as he slides it in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You nod, biting your lip as a soft moan escapes you. He adds another finger, stretching you gently, his tongue still working your clit in a relentless rhythm. You can feel your body responding, your hips bucking against his hand as he fingers you expertly.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I love how your pussy tastes and you are so tight and warm. I could eat you out all night."

You moan, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to finger you, his tongue circling your clit with expert precision.

The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for air. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as Cillian's fingers curl inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Cillian," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable as your own. "I'm close. I'm so close."

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "That's it, come for me, baby. Let me see that pretty little pussy come all over my fingers."

His words are filthy, obscene, and they send you spiralling over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. Cillian's fingers are relentless, drawing out your orgasm until you're a trembling, gasping mess. He pulls his fingers out slowly, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"That was fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "But we're not done yet, are we?"

You shake your head, your body still trembling with the aftermath of your orgasm. "No, we're not," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You want more. You need more.

You need him. You need to feel him inside you, filling you, stretching you. You need to experience the raw, primal connection that you've been craving. 

"Alright," he says, his voice low and husky as he quickly undresses. "Let's take this slow, okay? I want to make sure you're comfortable every step of the way."

You nod, your breath coming in short gasps as you watch him, his cock springing free from his jeans. You can see the thick, hard length of him, the head glistening with a drop of pre-cum. Your eyes widen slightly, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. 

"I don't think it will fit. I have never been able to do it before" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Cillian smiles softly, his eyes filled with reassurance.

"Trust me, we'll take it slow. I won't hurt you. I promise," he says. and you nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax. 

"Are you on the pill ?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he climbs onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

You nod again, your voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I am," you say, causing him to smile.

"Good, because it will feel nicer for you  that way, and I really want to feel your wet pussy around me.

Cillian reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "I'm going to go slow, okay? If it hurts, you tell me, and we'll stop. No pressure, no rush."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief and trust. "Okay, I trust you."

Cillian leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. His tongue gently probes your mouth, and you open for him, letting him explore at his leisure.

His body is warm and hard against yours, and you can feel the thick length of his cock pressing against your thigh, hot and insistent. You reach down, tentative fingers wrapping around his shaft, and Cillian groans into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly at your touch.

His cock is thick and hard, the skin soft and velvety, and you can feel the pulse of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. You stroke him gently, your hand moving from the base to the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. Cillian's breath hitches, and he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"Fuck, that feels good," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "But not as good as it's going to feel inside you."

You feel a rush of heat at his words, your body aching with need. You guide him towards your entrance, his cock hot and hard against your thigh. Cillian takes over, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours.

" Just relax, okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. "I promise I won't hurt you."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you feel the head of his cock press against you. He's big, and the sensation is intense, but the look in his eyes is one of pure tenderness and patience.

He starts to push in slowly, his hips moving in a gentle, rhythmic motion. 

"Is  that okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Are you alright?" You can feel him stretching you as part of him slides in, and you gasp, your eyes widening slightly. He stops, his body tense, waiting for your response. You nod, your breath coming in short gasps.

He could feel your barrier now and he knew he had to be careful. He whispered, "You are so fucking tight, I don't want to hurt you." He pulls back slightly, his cock still poised at your entrance, and you feel a rush of disappointment. But he's not stopping; he's just giving you a moment to adjust before slowly pushing the tip back in.

You feel the pressure, the stretch, and you can't help but tense up. Cillian notices immediately. He leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot on your face.

"Relax, baby. I promise, I won't hurt you. Just breathe. And if it gets too much, you tell me, okay?" he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to relax your body. Cillian begins to move again, his hips gently pushing forward, inch by inch. You can feel him stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before.

He pushed against your hymen now , a thin layer of skin that would soon be gone. He was taking his time, though, and he was being so gentle with you, that you found yourself relaxing, and pushing your hips forward, wanting more of him, wanting the pain to be over and done with.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable as your own. "You're so big, Cillian. It feels... it feels like a lot."

He pauses, his body tensed, his cock poised at your entrance, and you can see the concern in his eyes. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, his voice strained with restraint. "We can stop if you need to. I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head, your voice barely a whisper. "No, don't stop. I... I want this. I want you. Just go slow, okay?"

Cillian nods, a determined look in his eyes. "I promise, I'll go slow. Just relax and let me do the work. And if it hurts, we stop, no questions asked. Okay?"

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax.

Cillian begins to move again, his hips pushing forward with a gentle, steady pressure. You can feel the head of his cock stretching you, the sensation intense and overwhelming. He pauses, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your reaction.

"You're doing so well, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Just relax and let me in."

You take another deep breath, trying to relax your body, and he pushes a little further, the head of his cock slipping inside you. You gasp, the sensation of being filled so intensely sending a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves as he slides in more until, finally, he pushed past your hymen, his cock now fully sheathed inside you. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm, baby. So perfect."

You take a moment to adjust, your body tensing around him as you feel the full extent of his length and girth inside you. Cillian remains still, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your signal to continue. You can feel the stretch, the burn, but there's also a deep, primal satisfaction in having him inside you, filling you completely.

"Okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I'm ready. Go slow."

Cillian nods, a reassuring smile on his lips.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I'm going to move now, okay? Just tell me if it's too much."

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat as you feel him begin to move. He starts with slow, gentle thrusts, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. You can feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, the sensation intense and overwhelming. His eyes are locked on yours, watching your every reaction, ensuring your comfort and pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice strained with restraint as you dug your nails into his back. "So tight and wet. I could stay like this forever."

You gasp, your body tensing as he pulls out slightly before pushing back in, his cock stretching you, filling you completely. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless.

"More," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "I want more."

Cillian groans, his hips picking up speed, his cock sliding in and out of you with increasing intensity. You can feel every inch of him, the thick head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

Cillian's hips move with a steady, relentless rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease now that you're so wet and ready for him.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groans, his voice low and husky. "I can feel your pussy gripping my cock like a vice. It's so fucking good."

You moan, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to pound into you. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as he hits that spot over and over again.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Let me feel that pretty little pussy come all over my cock," he says and his cock is relentless now until you come.

"Oh my god, yes!" you  cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Don't stop, Cillian. Please, don't fucking stop."

Cillian's eyes flash with heat, his hips moving faster, his cock pounding into you with a force that steals your breath. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a primal, obscene symphony that only serves to heighten your arousal.

Your orgasm hits you like  a tidal wave, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your inner muscles clench around Cillian's cock, milking him, urging him deeper until, finally, he too could not hold on any longer. 

He groans, a deep, primal sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours, as he begins to cum, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. The sensation of him coming inside you sends you spiraling over the edge once more, your body convulsing as another orgasm tears through you.

"Fuck, yes," Cillian groans, his voice low and husky as he collapses onto you, his body slick with sweat, his cock still throbbing inside you. 

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breath hot on your neck as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

His cock is still hard inside you, pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and you can feel his seed leaking out of you, coating your thighs. The sensation is filthy, obscene, and incredibly arousing.

"Fuck, that was... intense," Cillian murmurs, his voice low and husky as he finally pulls out of you, his cock glistening with your combined fluids. You feel a rush of emptiness, a longing for him to be back inside you, filling you completely.

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender despite the raw, primal way he just took you. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek, feeling the rough stubble against your palm. "I'm more than okay. That was... amazing. Thank you, Cillian."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. "You're welcome, beautiful. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I'm glad I could help you feel good."

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys

[yassbishimvintage]

Where I wanna Be

Warnings: Fluff, Smut

MDNI!

It was a warm afternoon. Kel was going over a script. “Kel?” came Simone’s voice, soft and tentative, breaking through the quiet.

Kelvin looked up from the script he had been studying, his intense focus momentarily disrupted. He softened as soon as he saw her standing in the doorway, her hair loosely tied back and a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, setting the pages down and giving her his full attention.

She stepped into the room, holding two mugs of tea. “Thought you might need a break,” she said, handing one to him before sitting on the arm of his chair.

Kelvin took the mug, his fingers brushing hers, and smiled. “You always know when to rescue me, don’t you?”

Simone shrugged playfully. “That’s what girlfriends are for. So, what’s got you so deep in thought?”

He chuckled and leaned back, letting her warmth and presence ground him. “Just going over this new role. It’s...intense. But I think it’s going to be worth it.”

“Hmm,” she mused, leaning her head against his. “Well, don’t forget you’re pretty intense yourself. Whatever it is, I know you’ll kill it.”

Her quiet confidence in him brought a soft smile to his face. “Thanks, Sim. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, don’t forget we have dinner with Cleo and Aaron tonight,” Simone reminded him as she sipped her tea.

Kelvin groaned playfully, leaning his head back against the chair. “That’s tonight? Babe, you know I love them, but I was hoping to spend the evening in sweats with you.”

Simone laughed, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Come on, Kel. You know how rare it is for all of us to get together. Plus, Cleo’s been dying to see you and grill you about your next project.”

Kelvin raised an eyebrow. “Grill me? You mean ask ten questions in two minutes and then tell me what I should do instead?”

Simone smirked, shaking her head. “You know that’s just Cleo’s way of showing she cares. Besides, Aaron will back you up. He gets it.”

“True,” Kelvin conceded, his lips curving into a small smile. “Alright, you win. But only if you promise we can have a lazy day tomorrow.”

Simone leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Deal. Now finish up and get ready. We can’t be late—Cleo’s timing us.”

Kelvin laughed, shaking his head. “She really does keep everyone on a schedule, doesn’t she?”

“She’s efficient, that’s all,” Simone said with a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen. “Hurry up, Kel!” she called over her shoulder.

Kelvin chuckled, setting his tea down. “Guess I better start getting ready before she starts timing me too.”

When Kelvin and Simone arrived at the cozy upscale restaurant, they spotted Aaron and Cleo already seated at a corner table. Cleo, ever poised and stylish, was sipping on what looked like a glass of red wine, her grey eyes scanning the menu. Aaron, dressed in a crisp, casual blazer, was leaning back in his chair, sharing a laugh with her over something.

“Fashionably late, huh?” Cleo quipped as Kelvin and Simone approached the table. Her tone was light, but the playful smirk on her face was impossible to miss.

Aaron chuckled, standing to greet them. “You know Cleo’s been timing you since we got here,” he teased, pulling Kelvin into a quick hug before turning to Simone with a warm smile. “Simone, always good to see you.”

“Hey, we’re not that late,” Simone countered with a laugh, hugging Aaron and then Cleo. “Blame Kel. He got caught up in a script.”

Kelvin raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I? Besides, I figured you two would appreciate a little extra time for yourselves.”

Cleo rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “Alright, fine. Sit down before Aaron orders half the menu. He’s been talking about the steak here since we made the reservation.”

Simone and Kelvin slid into their seats, the warm ambiance of the restaurant wrapping around them. Kelvin glanced at the menu, then at Aaron. “So, the steak, huh? What’s the verdict?”

Aaron grinned. “Haven’t tried it yet, but the guy at the next table looks like he’s having a religious experience. That’s a good sign, right?”

Everyone laughed, the tension of the day melting away as they settled into the evening.

“So, Kel. Spill about this role,” Cleo said, setting her glass of wine down and fixing him with an expectant look.

Kelvin chuckled, shaking his head. “I knew this was coming. You’re not going to let me enjoy my appetizer first?”

“Nope,” Cleo replied smoothly. “If it’s got you this distracted, it must be good. Out with it.”

Simone leaned back with an amused smile, sipping her drink. “Told you she’d grill you,” she said softly, just loud enough for Kelvin to hear.

“Alright, alright,” Kelvin relented, placing his napkin on the table. “It’s this biopic about a legendary jazz musician. They’re bringing in a big-name director, and the script is incredible. But…”

“But?” Cleo prompted, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“It’s a lot,” Kelvin admitted, his voice more serious now. “The role requires a ton of prep—learning new instruments, mastering the artist’s style, and just…digging into his life. There’s a lot of pressure to get it right.”

Aaron, who had been quietly cutting into his steak, looked up and nodded. “Sounds like a challenge, but it’s the kind of challenge that pushes you, right?”

“Exactly,” Kelvin said, grateful for the understanding. “It’s just one of those projects where I know if I take it on, I have to go all in.”

Cleo studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Kelvin smiled, the encouragement bolstering his confidence. “Thanks, Cleo. I needed to hear that.”

“You’ve got this, Kel,” Simone chimed in, reaching for his hand under the table.

“Now,” Cleo said, leaning back with a smirk. “What’s the name of this jazz musician? Or do I need to start guessing?”

Kelvin laughed. “I can’t say yet—NDA and all that. But I’ll tell you this much, it’s someone who changed the game.”

Aaron grinned. “Well, we’ll be the first ones in line for the premiere. Just make sure we get a private screening before then.”

“You got it,” Kelvin said, relaxing into his seat as the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

-

When they got home, Simone kicked off her heels at the door and began unbuttoning her blouse as she walked through the house. The warm glow of their living room lights reflected off her skin, and her laughter echoed faintly as she recounted a joke Aaron had made during dinner.

“Sim, you’re really just leaving a trail of clothes, huh?” Kelvin teased, picking up her blazer from the back of the couch where she’d draped it.

Simone turned around, now unbuttoning her jeans, and flashed him a playful grin. “You’re always complaining about how I take forever to get ready. This is efficiency.”

Kelvin shook his head, chuckling as he followed her, the blazer in one hand and her discarded blouse in the other. “Efficiency would be putting them in the laundry basket, not decorating the house with them.”

Simone disappeared into their bedroom, her voice trailing behind her. “If it bothers you so much, you know where the basket is.”

He laughed, setting the clothes down on a chair before leaning against the doorway to their bedroom. Simone stood by the dresser in her underwear, pulling out one of his oversized shirts. She slipped it over her head, letting it fall loosely around her frame.

Kelvin crossed his arms, watching her with a soft smile. “You know, you don’t have to leave a trail for me to follow. I’d find my way to you anyway.”

Simone looked over her shoulder, her playful smirk softening into something more tender. “Good to know, Kel. But maybe the trail’s for me. Makes the house feel like home.”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Home is wherever you are, Sim.”

She turned in his arms, looping hers around his neck. “Good answer. Now, are you going to help me clean up my trail, or are we just going to stand here being cheesy?”

Kelvin laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Cheesy first. Then I’ll clean up.”

Soon his lips moved to her neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against her skin. Simone’s breath hitched slightly, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest.

“Tomorrow,” Kelvin murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing, “is our lazy day. And you know what that means.”

“Lazy sex day,” she finished for him, her lips curving into a knowing smile as her fingers trailed along his collarbone.

Kelvin chuckled against her neck, his hands settling on her hips and pulling her closer. “Exactly. No alarms, no responsibilities, just us and all the time in the world.”

Simone tilted her head slightly, giving him better access as her smile deepened. “And how lazy are we talking? Because I’m pretty sure you don’t know how to pace yourself.”

Kelvin pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his grin equal parts mischievous and affectionate. “Oh, I’ll pace myself. But don’t expect me to stick to one round.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Kel, you’re ridiculous. But I guess that’s why I love you.”

“Guess?” he echoed, feigning offense as he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. “Let me remind you why there’s no guessing about it.”

Simone laughed again, the sound filling the room as he laid her down gently, their lazy day plans starting a little early.

“We better have shower sex sometime tomorrow,” Simone said, her voice light but laced with a playful edge as she lay beneath him, running her fingers through his hair.

Kelvin smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed hers. “Oh, that’s a guarantee. But are you sure you’ll have the energy for it after I’m done with you tonight?”

Simone arched an eyebrow, her smile turning into a challenging grin. “Kel, please. You act like I don’t know how to keep up with you.”

Kelvin laughed softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as he nuzzled her neck. “Fair enough. Shower sex it is, but don’t blame me if we run out of hot water.”

“I’ll take that risk,” she said with a mock-serious tone, pulling him closer. “Just make sure you bring your A-game.”

“Oh, babe,” Kelvin murmured against her lips, his voice full of promise. “You know I always do.”

-

The next morning she awakes before Kelvin. Simone smiled as she straddled Kelvin, her movements slow and deliberate as she settled on top of him. The weight of the moment, the quiet of the morning, and the warmth between them felt perfect. She locked eyes with him, her lips curling into a teasing grin.

“Ready for that lazy day?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, her hands sliding over his chest.

Kelvin’s hands instinctively moved to her hips, guiding her movements as he let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not wasting any time, huh?”

Simone leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “You don’t need time when you’re with me.”

Her words sent a rush through him, and before he could respond, she kissed him deeply, pulling him into the moment. It was easy to lose themselves in each other, the world outside forgotten as they enjoyed their slow, intimate start to the day.

He smiled against her lips, his hands sliding up her back as he pulled her closer. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice warm and full of promise. “Lazy sex day.”

Simone’s smile deepened, a spark of excitement flashing in her eyes as she rolled her hips ever so slightly. “Exactly,” she breathed, teasing him with the lightest touch of her fingers on his chest. “We’ve got all day.”

Kelvin’s smile widened, his hands moving to her waist, guiding her movements as he took in the moment. “All day,” he repeated, before leaning in to kiss her again, his lips gentle yet eager as he gave in to the rhythm they’d set.

A few hours later, Simone slowly stirred from her sex-induced nap, the soft light filtering through the curtains as she stretched out, her body still feeling the pleasant aftermath of their earlier indulgence. Her head rested against the pillow, and for a moment, she just let herself bask in the comfortable silence.

Kelvin was beside her, his breathing steady as he lay next to her, a satisfied smile still on his face even in his sleep. Simone couldn’t help but smile too, her fingers tracing the lines of his arm as she thought about how effortless everything felt between them.

She glanced over at the clock, realizing they’d lost track of time. It was late afternoon, and the rest of the world had clearly moved on without them. With a quiet laugh, she ran a hand through her hair, leaning in to kiss his cheek before she slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb him.

Simone stood by the window for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of the moment, before turning back to look at him. “Lazy sex day indeed,” she murmured to herself, her smile softening as she considered how perfect it had been.

-

Simone quietly slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake Kelvin, who was still peacefully resting. She walked into the kitchen, the familiar space bringing a sense of calm and routine after their spontaneous afternoon.

She moved around the kitchen with ease, gathering ingredients for dinner. It was nothing fancy—just something comforting and simple to end their lazy day. A quick pasta dish with a creamy sauce, some garlic bread, and a fresh salad to balance it out. She hummed softly to herself as she worked, the gentle rhythm of chopping, stirring, and setting the table grounding her in the present moment.

As she tossed the pasta into boiling water, she glanced back at the bedroom door, wondering how long it would be before Kelvin woke up. She smiled to herself, thinking about how nice it was to have days like this—uninterrupted, slow, and entirely their own.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the kitchen as she prepared the meal, and soon enough, the comforting sounds of sizzling filled the air. She worked with a sense of ease, enjoying the solitude for a moment before the inevitable return to their busy lives.

Soon, Simone heard the soft sound of Kelvin’s footsteps approaching the kitchen. She turned her head just in time to see him leaning against the doorframe, a relaxed but sleepy smile on his face. His hair was tousled, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled, but he still managed to look effortlessly attractive.

“Smells amazing in here,” he said, his voice low and husky, still carrying the remnants of sleep. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

Simone leaned back into him, a smile tugging at her lips. “I figured we should at least have dinner before we completely ruin the rest of the night.”

Kelvin chuckled, his chin resting on her shoulder as he watched her work. “I’ll be honest, I was thinking more along the lines of dessert after everything that’s happened today.” His hands slid down her waist, drawing her a little closer.

Simone shook her head with a laugh, her hands still stirring the sauce. “Well, if you’re patient, you’ll get both. But dinner first.”

Kelvin nuzzled her neck, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Guess I can wait. But only because I’m getting lucky twice in one day.”

She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his as she gave him a playful look. “You are, but only if you help me set the table.”

“Deal,” he agreed with a grin, reaching for a nearby dish towel to dry his hands, already planning to make up for lost time later.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7 @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque

[charlesslut16]

hey babe i loved the max fic about the one wherereader pregnant, my idea/vision for part two is probably reader move somewhere probably england and live there fast forward years later they run into max. i think that's all i have thanks loveee

-gaining you to love-

summary : you and max meet again after all the trauma you had went trough

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none?

note : i hope that you like this and please request more!!!

masterlist ; Part 1

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

Years had passed since you had last seen Max Verstappen. After the heartbreak, you had packed up your life and moved to England, seeking a fresh start away from the painful memories. 

You found solace in the quaint countryside and raised your child with the love and dedication that had always been your strength. In your heart, you still wished he and you could raise your child together.

But this would still always be your dream.

Your child, a vibrant and curious soul, grew up knowing about their father only through the carefully chosen stories you shared and the races you watched on television. 

It had never crossed your mind to not tell your child, who their father is. It just never felt right to you. How could you not allow your child to know the person that was one's your most loved person and their dad.

Max’s name was synonymous with greatness in the world of Formula 1, and even though you had distanced yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride every time his name was mentioned.

One crisp autumn afternoon, you were out shopping in the bustling streets of London with your now four-year-old child. The city had a way of making you feel both anonymous and connected, a perfect blend for the life you had built.

It was not the perfect life you had chosen, but it was as perfect as it could be. As you walked through the crowded market, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N?”

You turned, and there he was—Max, your max, standing just a few feet away. He looked different, older, more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. 

He had the same smile and the same voice, both features that broth you great happiness, a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, memories flooding back with an intensity that took your breath away.

“Max,” you whispered quiet, not quite believing your eyes. Max, your max, standing in front of you. Impossible, right? Your child looked up at you, sensing the shift in your emotions. 

Max took a step closer to the both of you, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to confirm that you were real. If it was really the love of his life.“I can’t believe it’s you,” he said softly. “How have you been?”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice, not sure if words would come out surely and understandable.“I’ve been…good. How about you? You’ve done well for yourself. You have grown more mature”

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. A smile that had not shown like that, since you left.“Yeah, it’s been a wild ride. But I’ve thought about you a lot. About us.”

Before you could respond, your child tugged at your sleeve, looking curiously at Max. You did not thread this moment, but you sure were nervous.“Mommy, is that?”

You took a deep breath, kneeling down to your child’s level. “This is, Max,” you said gently. Not too sure if your child was ready for this important moment in their life.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at the child, realization dawning on him. It was his your child. The child he did not chose. “Is this…?” he began, his voice trailing off and cracking slightly.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes, Max. This is our child.”

He looked back at you, a mix of emotions playing across his face—shock, regret, longing. All because his younger self chose his career and not his family. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You agreed, and the three of you found a quiet café nearby. As you sat down, the tension was palpable. Your child, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chattered happily about their favorite books and toys. 

Max listened intently, a soft smile on his face, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He had never realized how the feeling of being content really felt until this exact moment.

Once your child was occupied with a coloring book, Max reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. I was scared, and I handled it all wrong. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you listened to his words. “I was hurt, Max. So hurt. But I had to be strong for our child. I moved here to start over, to give them a good life.”

“You’ve done an incredible job,” he said, his eyes full of admiration. “But I want to be part of their life. I want to be a part of your life. I want us back. If you’ll let me.”

You looked at your child, then back at Max. The pain of the past was still there, but so was the love you had always felt for him. And always will.“It won’t be easy,” you said softly. “But I want what’s best for our child. They deserve to know their father.”

Max nodded with a lift of his lip, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I want to be here for both of you. To have you both with me.”

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions as Max integrated himself into your life. He was patient and understanding, taking the time to get to know your child and to rebuild the trust between you. 

The bond that had once been so strong, that you had thought would never be like that, slowly began to mend, and the love you thought you had lost forever started to rekindle.

One evening, as you sat together in your cozy living room, your child asleep upstairs, Max turned to you with a serious expression. “I want to make up for lost time, Y/N. I want to be a family. Will you give me another chance?”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and determination there. The years of hurt and loneliness had taken their toll, but the love had never truly faded. “I want that too, Max,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve always wanted that. I had always hoped for a happy ending for us.”

Max pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you both let the tears flow. It felt like coming home after a long, arduous journey. The pain of the past was still there, but it was overshadowed by the promise of a future together.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Max built a life together, full of love and laughter. Your child thrived, surrounded by the warmth of a united family. Max balanced his racing career with his newfound responsibilities, proving to be a devoted father and partner.

The journey had been long and painful, but it had led you to this moment—standing together at the finish line, not as competitors, but as a family. And as you looked at Max, you knew that despite everything, you had finally found your way back to each other.

In your heart, you had truly known that this would be the outcome. It was a dream that came through and even tho you all went to tremendous pain you would go through it as a family.

A family he chose.

[meazalykov]

money talks

sydney lohmann x rich!reader

summary: you spoil your footballer girlfriend

during a crisp autumn evening in munich, you’re scrolling through your phone, waiting for sydney to finish her post-match activities. 

bayern just secured a solid 3-0 victory against hoffenheim, cool right? sydney played a huge role in the second goal with an assist that had you grinning like a fool in the stands.

you’ve never been one for modest celebrations, especially when it comes to her. 

for you, victories..even the small ones..deserve to be rewarded, and you already know exactly how you’ll celebrate tonight.

your gaze drifts to the sleek black-and-gold box on the passenger seat of your car. inside are the limited-edition nike sneakers sydney mentioned in passing weeks ago..shoes that sold out within minutes of the drop. 

it had taken some persistence, a couple of calls, and more money than you really care to admit, but they were worth it. 

for her, everything is.

your parents built an empire from the ground up, starting with a chain of luxury hotels that expanded globally over the years. 

when they passed away unexpectedly, they left everything to you..their only child...along with a massive inheritance and a portfolio of investments that ensured you could live comfortably for the rest of your life times ten. 

though the wealth sometimes feels overwhelming, you’ve chosen to use it to make those you love happy, especially sydney, your girlfriend of four years.

a soft vibration pulls your attention back to your phone: 

syd: done! meet me by the entrance?

smiling, you reply quickly, already starting the car to head toward her.

when you pull up, sydney is waiting with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her hair still damp from her shower. she flashes you a smile that’s brighter than any stadium lights, and it’s the kind of look that makes you wonder if she realizes how easily she could ask for the moon, and you’d find a way to get it.

“hey, babe,” she says, leaning in through the window to kiss you softly. 

“you waited long?”

“never too long for you syd,” you reply, reaching over to unlock the door for her. as she slides into the seat, you try to contain your excitement about the gift, but your fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel, a small tell you know she’s noticed.

“what’s got you so excited?” she teases, tossing her bag into the backseat. 

“you look like you’re up to something.”

you bite back a grin, shrugging in mock nonchalance. 

“me? up to something? never.”

her eyes narrow playfully, but she lets it go for now, leaning back into the seat with a content sigh. 

“i’m starving. can we grab something on the way home?”

“of course,” you say, already mentally planning her favorite takeout spot. but first, you know you can’t wait any longer. as you pull into a nearby parking lot, you reach for the box in the passenger seat, holding it out to her. 

“before that, i got you something.”

her eyebrows raise as she glances at the box. 

“y/n? again?? you didn’t have to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently, sliding it onto her lap. 

“but i wanted to. open it.”

sydney hesitates for a moment, looking at you like she’s trying to figure out how she ended up with someone so determined to spoil her. then she smiles, lifting the lid. syd’d eyes widen as she takes in the sneakers, and her mouth falls open slightly in shock.

“no way,” she breathes, pulling them out carefully. 

“these are the ones i showed you! how did you even find these? they’ve been sold out for weeks.”

you shrug again, trying to downplay the effort it took. 

“i have my ways.”

she laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“your ways are ridiculous. y/n, these must’ve cost a fortune.”

“and that’s okay,” you say simply, and the sincerity in your voice makes her pause, her expression softening.

“thank you,” she says quietly, leaning over to kiss you again, this time slower, deeper. 

“i try,” you say with a grin, feeling your chest swell at her reaction. 

“but wait, there’s more.”

she groans dramatically, though the smile on her face betrays her. 

“more? y/n, you’re going to spoil me rotten.”

“that’s kind of the point,” you tease, pulling out a small velvet pouch from your bag. 

“this is for the second goal of yours tonight!” 

sydney’s eyes widen again as she opens the pouch to reveal a delicate gold bracelet, the kind that’s understated yet elegant—just like her. she stares at it for a moment before looking up at you, her voice soft. 

“what the hell? this is just–”

“i know,” you say, taking her hand to help fasten the bracelet around her wrist. it catches the light perfectly, and the way she smiles at it makes every effort feel worth it.

as you finally pull out of the lot to grab dinner, sydney reaches over to intertwine her fingers with yours. 

“you don’t have to keep buying me things, you know,” she says after a moment, her voice sincere. 

“i just like being with you. that’s enough for me.”

“i know,” you reply, squeezing her hand. 

“but this is how i show love. and i love you, syd. more than anything.”

she glances at you, her eyes shining. 

“i love you too. even if you are rich and ridiculous.”

masterlist

[dark-and-kawaii]

Together We Can Build A Snowman

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ — Summary: Choso smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit of his you found adorable. He remembered this scene in a movie you both had just watched the other night, and as he watched the main characters confess their love, Choso couldn't help but imagine the two of you in their place.

Content: Fluff

The crisp winter air kissed your rosy cheeks as you struggled to shape the powdery snow into perfect spheres. With each attempt, you could feel your frustration grow… like a delicate snowflake melting under the warmth of your annoyance. The balls of snow you had formed looked more like sad lumps, mocking your efforts with their imperfect forms.

Stomping your foot in a fit of cute annoyance, your pout accentuated the adorable crinkle of your nose. The bottom snowball of your “creation” seemed to have contracted some strange snow pox, its poor surface marred by bumps... The middle ball, god the middle ball, anyone would scratch their head in bewilderment at how you managed to make it look so unproportionate. And the top ball, oh the top ball, it was but a mere speck that was desperately clinging to the middle ball, the thing looked like it would fall off any second.

Your snowman, the product of your labor, seemed to look at you, pleading for a merciful end to its torment… With an eyebrow arched, you turned away from your miserable snowman, only to be met with a breathtaking sight that stole the very air from your lungs.

There, like a vision from a story book, from a winter wonderland, stood the most beautiful, perfectly shaped snowman you had ever laid eyes on. Its curves were flawless, its proportions divine, and you knew in that moment that the artist responsible for such a masterpiece could be none other than your beloved Choso.

As if summoned by the mere thought of his name, Choso appeared from behind his snowy masterpiece, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that rivaled the summer sun you missed.

“Ch-Choso!!! Wow! It-“

“You did a good job,” he exclaimed, flashing you a toothy grin, that crooked dopey smile you adored so much as he approached, “I wish I could sculpt like that…” Choso's voice held a tinge of awe, and as he glanced back at his own creation, a frown tugged at the corners of his lips? “I don't think mine came out as good though.”

“Eh?…” In that moment, you felt your heart melt like fresh snowflakes on your tongue. Choso's pure, innocent disappointment tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself thinking, 'Awh baby, you are too precious.'

“What are you talking about Choso?” you huffed, your breath forming delicate clouds in the frosty air? “Yours looks like it came out of a movie! You did a really good job, especially since this is your first time…”

Choso noticed the way your voice trailed off, and he couldn't help but notice the way you stared at his snowman, the way you admired his artistic craftsmanship. He noticed the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with a twinkle of excitement, and he felt the tips of his ears heat up as he heard the praise in your voice… And he even noticed how your cheeks seemed to flush, like a cherry blossom blooming in the spring.

Choso noticed everything about you, every subtle movement, every tiny gesture, and each and every word.

He even noticed the way your gaze shifted towards him, and the way your lips quirked into a knowing smile as you watched his eyes roam over you before you bit at your bottom lip.

He was the most attentive man in the world, and he always made sure to pay attention to the details, the things that made you, you.

It was just one of the many things you loved about him.

Choso smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit of his you found adorable. He remembered this scene in a movie you both had just watched the other night, and as he watched the main characters confess their love, Choso couldn't help but imagine the two of you in their place.

'I want to make this a happy memory…,’ he thought.

Pointing beyond the two of you, Choso’s eyes stared off into distance, “(Y/N), look at that one over there.”

But when you followed his gaze and his gloved finger there was nothing to be seen.

“Hmm? There’s nothing there, Cho-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, Choso's arms encircled your waist, and with a playful grin, he pulled you into a nearby snow pile with him. The powdery flakes enveloped you both, and as you found yourself nestled against Choso's chest, you realized that the warmth of his embrace was far better than a roaring fireplace.

He leaned forward, and his breath tickled the shell of your ear, the sensation causing a shiver to run down your spine, “There was a pretty big snowflake headed our way, and I wanted to protect you from it.”

Choso pulled back to get a better view of your face, and he was greeted with the most breathtaking sight.

You, lying against him, snowflakes resting atop your hair and eyelashes, a warm flush dusting the apples of your cheeks. You, staring at him with a tenderness that made his heart ache. You, looking absolutely ethereal in the pale light of the afternoon sun.

'Beautiful.' was all Choso could think.

But what he didn't realize was that he had spoken his thoughts aloud, his voice soft, barely above a whisper... And as you felt him lean forward, his lips capturing yours in a gentle caress, you couldn't help but think,

'I could stay here with him, forever.'

And so the two of you stayed there, in that snow pile, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace, as the falling snow blanketed the two of you with its crystalline splendor.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Master Wrapper (Lia Walti x Reader)

Day 5 whoooop. Hows everyones December going?

The cozy glow of the Christmas lights filled Lia’s apartment, creating a warm contrast to the crisp December night outside. Lia had just returned from a last-minute shopping trip, her arms filled with bags and her cheeks pink from the cold. With a grin, she spread out her haul across the living room floor, setting up what she called “a wrapping station” on the rug with all the supplies she could possibly need: rolls of festive wrapping paper, ribbon spools in a multitude of colours, and a small mountain of gift tags in varying shapes and designs.

You could hear the quiet hum of Christmas music playing lightly from the speaker on the mantle, there was a steaming mug of something that smelt of cinnamon on the table in front of you and you still had your chocolate from your calendar to eat yet.

“Okay, ready to work some holiday magic?” she asked, grinning as she plopped down beside you and started sorting through her purchases. She handed you a gift box and a roll of red and gold paper, smiling like this was her absolute favourite part of Christmas.

You nodded, rolling up your sleeves and matching her grin. “Let’s make these look so good people won’t even want to open them.”

Lia laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out a pair of scissors and tape. “I love your enthusiasm,” she said, already expertly measuring the first piece of wrapping paper for a box. You couldn’t help but watch her, the way her hands worked carefully, smoothing out the edges and pressing down the tape with precision. She clearly enjoyed doing this and was very efficient and classy with it.

As you both wrapped, she shared stories about her favourite holiday traditions back home in Switzerland. Those stories involved skiing on the picturesque snowy mountains, taking walks as the snow fell and spending cozy evenings in with her family around a fire to warm up at the end of the day. Her eyes sparkled with nostalgia, and you found yourself completely enchanted by her, laughing as she recalled the slightly disastrous time she tried to cook the family Christmas dinner herself.

“Did it turn out okay?” you asked, laughing as she wrapped a piece of ribbon, once again, perfectly around a gift.

“Let’s just say… we ended up ordering pizza,” she laughed, her cheeks a little red at the memory. “It’s harder than it looks, you know! But my parents were nice about it. They even ate what they could.” She smiled, shaking her head. “This year, I’m letting my mom handle it again. We all agree it’s for the best.”

It didn’t take a genius to noticed that Lia’s wrapping was practically perfect, each edge neatly folded, while yours… well, yours looked a little less refined. She looked over at your completed gift pile and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Need a little help?” she teased, reaching over to adjust one of the corners.

“Alright, go ahead, expert,” you laughed, watching as she patiently demonstrated how to make crisp folds and tuck the paper just right. She was close enough that you could smell the faint hint of her vanilla perfume, and you found yourself feeling a little distracted as she talked you through her technique. There has always been something about just being close to the midfielder that made you brain switch off and your body warm.

With her, and you will admit, expert guidance, your wrapping skills improved, and soon you’d finished most of the gifts. She handed you a spool of gold ribbon with a playful smile. “How do you feel about making bows?”

“I think I can manage that,” you said, taking the ribbon and carefully tying a neat bow on one of the gifts. You looked up at her, beaming at your success.

She clapped, nodding in approval. “Beautiful! See, you’re a natural,” she said warmly, reaching over to give your shoulder a playful squeeze. As she leaned closer, her fingers lingered on your shoulder just a bit longer than usual, and the two of you exchanged a soft, lingering smile.

Finally, you both sat back, surveying the pile of beautifully wrapped gifts. The room was a festive mess, bits of ribbon and scraps of wrapping paper scattered around you. Lia stretched her arms over her head, sighing with satisfaction. “I think we make a pretty great team,” she said, leaning her head against your shoulder as you both admired your handiwork.

You wrapped an arm around her, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Absolutely. I think we should always wrap presents together; how could we not combine your perfect bows with my neat wrapping.”

Just then, Lia’s eyes brightened, and she pulled a small package from her pocket. “Actually,” she said shyly, “I have one more gift.” She handed you a small, neatly wrapped box.

“Lia, this is already wrapped.” You gave the woman a puzzled look as you inspected the gift.

“It’s for you, but I was hoping you’d open it tonight.” She had that soft smile you loved on her face.

Surprised, you took the box and looked at her, feeling your cheeks warm. Carefully, you unwrapped the gift, peeling back the paper to reveal a box that housed a delicate bracelet with a tiny snowflake charm.

“It reminded me of you,” Lia murmured softly, her fingers lightly brushing yours as she helped you put it on. “I thought… well, I thought it might be something you’d like. You always say snow is one of your favourite things and you wish you could see it more.” The small shrug of her shoulder as she explained was very cute.

You turned to her, smiling as you admired the bracelet on your wrist. “Lia, it’s perfect,” you whispered, leaning in closer. The lights from the Christmas tree reflected in her eyes, giving them a warm, soft glow. Well warmer and softer than they always are.

Before either of you realized it, you were both leaning in, her breath warm on your cheek as your lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, cheeks flushed. Lia’s fingers laced through yours, the moment filled with warmth and joy.

Lia’s eyes sparkled as she watched you, the flicker of lights mirrored in their depths. The bracelet on your wrist caught the same light, the tiny snowflake charm glistening as though it held a piece of winter itself. You turned your hand slightly, admiring the delicate craftsmanship and feeling a rush of affection.

“It’s beautiful, Lia,” you whispered, your voice barely carrying above the soft crackle of the fireplace.

A smile, shy yet radiant, spread across her face. “I’m so glad you like it,” she replied, a hint of relief in her tone, as though she’d been holding her breath.

You reached for her hand, fingers intertwining in a simple, intimate gesture. The warmth of her skin seeped into yours, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, no chilly winds, just the gentle cocoon of light, laughter, and love shared between the two of you.

“Merry Christmas,” Lia said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you both felt.

“Merry Christmas, Lia,” you echoed, squeezing her hand gently as you leaned your head against hers, the bracelet resting lightly on your wrist, a sparkling reminder of this moment and hopefully many more to come.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Paparazzi

mma!fighter toji x fem!reader

‘ chase you down until you love me ‘

summary ❥ the story of how the paparazzi changed the life of the strongest mma fighter. heavily inspired by lady gaga’s song 

warnings: angst, TRIGGERING topics, friends with benefits, unfaithfulness, degradation, deteriorating mental health, nudes, stalking, oral sex, etc.

note: happy PYSKINKTOBER. m.list here

the red button glowed red as the reporter set it on the table, before looking up at the scarred lip man.

“can we have your name please?”

“toji fushiguro, but please call me toji.” the reporter nodded and scribbled in her notebook before continuing with her next question.

“and how do you know know her?” she slid over a picture and he sighed. he looked over every detail of her pretty face. she was so happy then.

“she was one of my biggest fans. she was a reporter and journalist, just like you.” his voice was gruff and his face was plain, but behind those eyes held a story; a painful one.

“you talk about her like she is no longer with us,” the reporter chuckled at her own joke, but there was nothing to joke about. there was a brief silence before she cleared her throat to ask him another question.

“tell me all about her. how you met, her life, don’t spare any details…”

“alright. she was….”

“you’re fucking annoying.” he cursed, peering over his shoulder, watching the girl follow after him—note book in her smaller hands. she rolled her eyes and pushed some of her hair out of her face, still hot on his tail.

“same thing could be said about you, toji. now are you gonna let me ask my questions or are you going to keep dodging me?” she was used to his antics, wasn’t scared of him one bit. he was intimidating inside and outside of the ring, but not to her. she saw right past his demeanor and saw who he really was.

he sighed and grabbed his bottle from his manager and downed the cool liquid, before shoving it back into his hands. “three questions, only. no more. no less.” she smiled and watched as he shooed people out of his locker room, giving them some privacy.

she pressed the button on her tape recorder before beginning with their introductions and then moving onto her first question. “how does it feel it feel to be the undefeated heavyweight champ?”

“great. im untouchable, in and out of the ring.” he was cocky, but he had to be. in this industry, they eat the weak and worship the strong.

“i hear your next fight, you’re fighting your prodigy. think he can beat you?” she slid off her jacket and folded her glasses up, looking at him through her long lashes. “did you not hear me, woman? im untouchable. i trained him, but he can never beat me, no one can.” he responded, sitting down on the bench behind him, pulling the white towel from around his neck.

“last and final question,” she paused, turning off the table recorder and reaching for her matching white buttons to her crisp button up, “when are you going to finally kiss the cute reporter?”

by now, the locker room was cleared out, leaving the two of them alone. he sighed and ran a hand over his face, before standing up; his body towering over her. “didn’t i tell you, i don’t kiss? that’s how people get attached.”

the two had been in a mutual relationship for a while now. a friends with benefits relationship and from the moment it started, he made it very clear that there would be no affection between the two of them—no kissing, no holding hands; just straight fucking.

she understood that and in the beginning, she wasn’t looking for a relationship, but as time moved on; that changed. she wanted him, craved him even. the sex was so good between them too, she wanted more. she just wished he wanted more too.

“right of course….how could i forget?” she moved to re-button her top only to be stopped by his big hands. “take it off. need to see my pretty girls today,” he smirked, alluding to her breasts. it puzzled her, how he can call her body his, but wouldn’t make her his? however, she took it off—along with her black bra—and sat on his lap, watching as he sucked on those pretty lil nipples he loved so much.

“ tojiiii~” she whined as he teased them, swirling them on his tongue and not fully placing the mounds into his mouth. “quit yer’ whining,” he pinched them, making her squeal, until he finally gripped both of her breasts and placed them into his mouth.

he knew how to get her off easily. he knew all of the spots that had her creaming her panties instantly. it was like her body was made just for him.

the more he sucked the more she felt herself get wet and soon she could feel her panties starting to stick to her second set of lips. she rolled her hips over his crotch, feeling his boner rise and poke her core. he groaned when she tugged at his raven colored hair, mouth still attached to her little love buds. “need you so bad. please”

“not till i taste her,” he picked her up and placed on the work bench a few feet away, laying on her back before tugging her pants down, along with her panties. “shit, you’re soaked. so pretty and wet fa me,” he cooed, swiping his thumb over her slit, watching how webs of her essence stuck to him. he did this a few more times, eliciting a series of mewls from her before he finally attached his lips to her needy clit—making her back arch off the leather workbench.

he was like a dog licking up cold water on a hot day, feasting on her clit; slurping and sucking up all her fluids that pooled out of her. he knew exactly how to please her, slipping two fingers inside of her aching hole and curling it upwards—hitting her spot each time.

she was a mess. her sweet, sticky slick slid down from her cunt and onto the black leather underneath her—gushing each time she felt him. her hands were tangled in his hair and she brought her hips up, his nose pressing into her clit as she grinded against his face; speeding up the orgasm she desperately needed.

“gonna cum—oooh shhhitttt,” toji started to spell his name on her clit, sending jolts of electricity up her spine. and once he got to the ' r ’ in fushiguro, she was cumming all over his scarred lips. he wouldn’t let up on her clit either as she came, causing a gush of a water like fluid to splash against his face.

he quickly lapped up every droplet, sucking on her sensitive clit once more, before letting go— a ‘pop’ sound following afterwards. after taking a few minutes to calm down, she sat up on her elbows expecting him to have his dick out, only to be met with him pushing her panties back up her thighs.

“you’re not gonna fuck me?” he shook his head and chuckled, pulling her pants back up as well. “nah, got a press conference in a—“.

he was cut off as the door opened, entering his best friend and his trainer; shiu kong. she immediately sat up and buttoned up her pants, sliding off the piece of equipment—trying to fix herself.

shiu smirked, shooting a nod to his best friend before looking at the flustered woman. “y/n”

“kong,” she responded, clearing her hoarse throat, turning her attention elsewhere; eyes lingering on the puddle she made a few seconds ago. “you know, you were very loud. lucky it was just me out there,” her eyes widened and she tried to hide her face; too embarrassed to be seen. “bye toji! thanks for the interview!”

she ran off, running out of the gym and to her car—driving far away from the establishment.

“looks like you two had quite the relationship.” the reporter spoke, blushing herself, shifting in her seat after hearing the lewd story.

“that’s what you think. there’s more to it.”

—

the chime of her phone put her attention elsewhere. she stppped typing on her laptop and checked her phone; a message from her best friend, utahime, telling her to her asap.

she pressed her contact name and held the phone up to her ear, immediately hearing her voice. “turn on the news right now!”

she raised an eyebrow and stood up and got her tv’s remote, turning it on and turning it to the news. “hello to you too, utahim—WHAT THE FUCK?”

on the screen it was toji and some woman walking out of a restaurant, hand in hand, avoiding the paparazzi the best they could; that is until one of them finally stopped the new couple. “toji we wanna say congratulations on the fight earlier! you did amazing! and who is this lovely lady right next to you?”

“my fiancé,” everything seemed to fade into the background as her mind blurred. she couldn’t believe it. fiancé? ‘but he said—he just—‘ her mind was running rampant, trying to come to terms with what she just watched. utahime’s voice was like white noise in her ears, before the girl started to yell on the phone. “YOU THERE, Y/N?”

“gotta go hime’.” she hung up before she could even respond, eyes glued to the tv, watching as the couple got into the all black jeep; before she turned it off. she quickly grabbed an all black hoodie and a hat, switching into something comfortable; grabbing her car keys and headed out.

she appeared outside of his building in a heartbeat, slamming her car door before jogging into the building. there was no doormen at night so she was able to not be spotted, taking the elevator up to his penthouse suite. she was fuming, pounding on his door, teetering on the edge as each second passed. and when the door opened, she threw a punch to his jaw, causing his head to swivel. “fucking lying asshole!”

she tried to hit him once more, but he caught her fist and put her in a distressed hug, tearing cascading down her smooth face. “you’re a liar! get off of me!” she pushed away, staring at him with nothing but hurt and anger in her gaze.

“it’s not what you think,” he started, trying to keep calm—not wanting to upset her further. “then what is it? hm, toji? you don’t do relationships remember? yet you’re fucking engaged! since when?”

“like i said it’s not what you think. sit down.” he pointed to the couch, but she wasn’t budging. “SIT. DOWN.”

she huffed and sat down on his soft leather couch, watching through her red eyes as he walked over to his mini bar, pouring her a drink before following suit. he explained to her that this was just a publicity stunt. he was being sued by another pro mma fighter and in order to paint a good picture to the media that he’s not some hot head, his manager thought it was good for the world to see that he was a family man.

by now she was on her second glass of wine. her tears were dried up, yet she was still sniffling. her mind still on a hundred, trying to process everything. when she didn’t say anything, toji inched closer to her and cupped her face, his emerald eyes staring into her’s, before he closed them and pressed his scared lips against her plump one’s.

she was in shock. he was kissing her? yet, she quickly followed his movements and enjoyed the kiss. his tongue sweeping into her mouth, dominating her’s with ease, pulling the woman into his lap—big hands all over her ass. and when he pulled away, a string of spit followed, making her whine. “toji~”

“never wanted to hurt you. i hope you believe that. just let this case play out and end, then it will all be over.”

“why did you kiss her?” the reporter asked, only to be met with silence.

“alright then. continue.”

—

as the case against him progressed, so did the portrayal of his healthy relationship with his new fiancée. there was photoshoots, interviews and home visits. none done at his place, always at his fake house.

and she was always there. covering it or writing magazines on it. she hated it, it was like torture. but, she knew this was for the media. she knew how the paparazzi worked and how the world would take things. anything for a good story.

however, she was a little happier. every night she would be at his house. dressing up each time, putting on some sexy lingerie and covering it with a long black trench coat. toji loved it each time. they would fuck until the sun came up and usually he would kick her out, but now he enjoyed having her stay the night.

cuddle up against her underneath his thousand dollar sheets, sun peeking through the curtains—making her skin glisten. he loved watching her sleep. loved the way her nose would scrunch up when the sun hit her eyes and the way those same beautiful eyes would flutter open; greeting him. he would kiss her in the morning and watched her pretty lips curve into a smile. he didn’t want to admit it, but he had it bad for her. he was in love.

and the moment he finally said “i love you,” had her swooning for days. she had got what she finally wanted. him.

that is until the court day came and he delivered her terrible news. “pregnant? she’s having your fucking child?!” she was seething, pushing him further into the bathroom. why was this happening to her again.

“look it wasn’t sup—“

“save it, toji. just save it. i can’t believe it….again? what about me?” she paused and looked at him, waiting for the answer that never came. she chuckled and wiped away her tears, fixing her makeup and her blazer. “whatever. let’s go. your trial is about to start.

—

it looked good for toji. everything the prosecutors tried to throw at him was immediately turned down. he was gaining the jury’s trust, that is until the prosecution pulled out some evidence.

“this relationship he’s trying to paint? it’s a sham. this was found on his phone! i hope your fiancée knows about this, fushiguro.” higaruma, the lawyer for the guy suing toji announced, pushing the button to the projector—showing off a toji’s messages with a woman posing nude. however, it wasn’t just some random lady. it was her, y/n.

she gasped and screamed in horror. her face wasn’t blurred out either, so everyone knew who she was. the flashes of cameras blurred her eyes as she stood up, racing out of the court room; ignoring all media personnel. she ran, ran until her feet started to blister—her heels bullying into her skin. she hailed a cab once she was far away from the courthouse and went straight to her place; where she stayed for months.

her world was crumbling by the second and it was all because of him.

he had won the case, despite her nudes being leaked, however his fans still blamed her for what happened—blamed her for trying to ruin his career; even though she wasn’t suing him. their outrage and her face was plastered all over the media, shaming her, calling her all types of degrading names. she had to quit her job as a reporter and stayed in solitude.

the police came to her house and put her into protective custody, after seeing how many threats she was facing. utahime came and tried to console her but everything was a blur.

she sat in her new apartment, living in a shell of her old self. the bottles of alcohol started to pile up as she drank herself to death. she couldn’t take it, the more hate she received and the more she thought about him—killed her. he never called her since that day, it was like he never loved her.

she was over him, for good. that is until she received a text from an anonymous number. it was an address and a time, telling her to be there. she raised an eyebrow and put on something to keep her incognito, before getting into her truck and going to the address.

she parked across the street, hiding underneath a tree—staring at the big beautiful house. she was wondering what she was doing here or why she was sent here, until she saw him. his raven hair still looked soft as always, hanging in front of his face. his muscles looked even bigger, poking through the black sweater he wore. he looked good. however, she had to stay focused, to see what was going on.

she watched him climb the black steps, knocking on the front door; revealing a woman—and not the one he was engaged to either. ‘what the actual fuck?’ she thought, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out her truck. the slam of her door caught his attention, his eyes widening when he saw her approaching.

she whipped her phone out in a flash, recording as she started yelling at him. “so much for not doing relationships right?! you said you fucking loved me! toji!”

the woman standing at the door came closer to the door, tugging on his sweater, “toji, who is this?”

“the woman who’s life he ruined.” there was silence between them, the crickets chirping filled the void, only their eyes were having a conversation—before she started up again.

“my nudes get leaked and my life gets ruined! but, yours? oh you get to live happily ever after! you got a baby and a side piece? oh oh and you still got a career! well what about me? hm!” she couldn’t cry, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t. he wasn’t worthy of her tears anymore.

“got nothing to say? hm? cat got your tongue, toji?!”

“im sorry.” he huffed out and she laughed, flipping the camera to face her. “oh he’s sorry?! you aren’t, but you will be!” she stopped recording and stormed off his porch, before turning around to face him once more.

“im about to ruin your fucking life!”

“oh so that’s where that infamous video came from.” the reporter rose an eyebrow, swallowing down her warm cup of coffee, staring at the man sitting across from her.

“look, you got five minutes left. you gonna let me finish telling the story or what?” his voice and demeanor were cold, and she held her hands up in defense. “sorry. what happened next?”

—

she sent her video to the media which earned her a new job as a paparazzi. she also made articles and never stopped covering articles about him. each one was there to deface him. she was doing like she said she was, ruining his life. but, she was ruining her own as well.

she was drinking more and taking pills to escape her thoughts, sending her into a downward spiral. she was heavily depressed and on the brink of a mental breakdown, yet she still kept going. she was obsessed with him and she should’ve moved on, but how could she? how could she forget the past? when it hasn’t been a year yet?

the more time that passed, the more she wasn’t herself and when utahime came over and saw her in her wretched state—she did what any best friend would do and got her some help.

she was in a psych facility, being treated for chronic depression and memory loss; due to all the pills and alcohol she was consuming. her body couldn’t handle it. all she could remember was the good ole days she had with toji, before her life was ruined.

as for toji, his life was never the same either. he blamed himself for what happened to her, everyday for the rest of his life. he divorced his current wife and co-parented with his ex fiancée with their child that they shared, retiring as a pro mma fighter—passing the torch to his protege and running his own mma school. he was done with fame, he just wanted to go back to normal.

“alright. interviews over, no more questions.” toji got up from his spot and the reporter got up as well, trying to get him to stay. “where are you going?” the recorder was still on, catching his last words.

“going to see my wife.”

as he entered the psychiatric facility, he pushed his wedding band on and navigated his way towards her room, where he saw her waiting on her twin bed—a book in her hand. his eyes softened, she still looked pretty like always. he stepped in the room and she perked up.

“is this my husband?” she asked, trying to remember and he nodded, sitting down next to her on the bed. he pulled out the photo album and showed her pictures from before; her past life before everything changed.

“yeah baby, I’m here.”

[daxisyzz]

Light After the Shadows

Pairings: boyfriend!bucky barnes x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by work and self-doubt, you feel like a failure—until your caring boyfriend Bucky helps you rediscover your inner strength with his gentle support and cozy evenings sharing your love of books.

Warnings and tags: mental health, feeling overwhelmed, feelings not upto the mark, supportive Bucky, fluff, talks of mental health, supportive boyfriend Bucky, caring Bucky.

Word count: 1.2k+

A/n: This fic is totally self-indulgent, as I was feeling overwhelmed with everything that has been happening over the past month.

Requests are open!!!

For the past month, work has felt like wading through thick fog. Every morning, you drag yourself out of bed, dreading the pile of tasks waiting for you at the office. Meetings blur into one another, and deadlines slip past while your focus remains just out of reach. You’ve tried everything—coffee, long hours at the desk, even talking to colleagues—but nothing seems to pull you out of this slump. Instead, each day leaves you feeling more frustrated and convinced that you’re just not enough.

It was a particularly rough day when you came home, shoulders heavy with exhaustion and eyes rimmed with unshed tears. The email from your supervisor had been the final straw—a curt note pointing out that your latest project wasn’t meeting expectations. You felt like you’d let everyone down, and worst of all, you felt like you’d let yourself down.

When you stepped into the apartment, you found Bucky waiting in the kitchen. The soft glow of the overhead light and the gentle hum of a familiar song on the radio wrapped around you like a warm blanket. He looked up as you entered, his eyes immediately softening with concern. Without a word, he went over, wrapped you in a hug, and held you close as if to shield you from the world outside.

“You look like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Bucky said quietly, his voice laced with genuine care. “Talk to me, love. What happened today?”

You hesitated at first, feeling the sting of self-doubt tighten your throat. But with Bucky’s steady gaze and gentle presence, you found the courage to speak. “It’s just… I can’t focus anymore, Buck. Work feels impossible. I tried so hard, and I’m just not meeting the mark. I feel stupid, like I’m failing at everything.”

Bucky pulled back slightly, his expression tender yet determined. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Listen to me. You are not stupid, and you are certainly not a failure. Everyone goes through rough patches. It doesn’t define who you are or what you’re capable of.”

He guided you over to the couch, sitting close so that you could lean into his warmth. “I know you’re struggling, and I can see how hard you’re trying,” he continued. “Maybe you’re expecting perfection from yourself, but perfection isn’t real—it’s the pursuit that makes you human. And you’re one of the kindest, most talented people I know.”

As he spoke, you felt a small ember of comfort kindling inside you. Bucky’s words weren’t grand proclamations meant to erase your doubts, but they were gentle reminders that you were loved and valued. Over the following minutes, he patiently listened as you poured out your feelings, the frustrations and insecurities that had been building inside you until you couldn’t contain them any longer.

When you finally fell silent, Bucky reached for your hand. “How about we take a break together?” he suggested. “Let’s step away from all of this for a while. I’ve planned something for us—a little evening escape. Just you and me, no pressure, no work.”

Later that evening, Bucky led you out the door for a walk through a nearby park. The crisp night air and soft glow of streetlights did their best to lift the weight of the day from your shoulders. He didn’t push you to talk about work or force you to “snap out of it.” Instead, he simply held your hand as you walked, and every now and then, he’d offer a quiet, encouraging smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could get through this.

At a small café tucked away on a quiet side street, Bucky ordered your favorite hot chocolate—extra marshmallows, just the way you liked it. Over the clink of cups and the low murmur of conversation, you began to share little memories from better times: a funny incident at work before everything went sideways, a childhood memory that made you laugh, and dreams you once had for the future. Bucky listened intently, his eyes full of understanding and unwavering support.

“You know,” he said between sips of his coffee, “I believe that these rough patches are just a part of your story. They’re not the whole story. You’re amazing, and sometimes even the brightest stars go through dark nights before shining again.”

His words, gentle yet sincere, began to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself. You started to realize that maybe it was okay to feel lost for a while, that taking time to care for yourself wasn’t a sign of weakness but an act of self-love.

After you returned home, Bucky stayed by your side as you set up a cozy corner in the living room. He spread out a soft blanket, arranged a stack of your favorite books on the coffee table, and dimmed the lights until only the soft glow of a floor lamp illuminated the space. “Let’s have a little reading marathon,” he suggested with a playful glimmer in his eye. “No work, no stress—just you, me, and some good stories.”

As the evening unfolded, you and Bucky lost yourselves in the pages of books, occasionally pausing to discuss favorite lines, laugh at the quirks of fictional characters, or simply enjoy the quiet together. In those moments, you began to feel like yourself again. The anxiety and self-doubt didn’t vanish entirely, but they were no longer all-consuming. With Bucky’s gentle reassurance, you rediscovered that you were not defined solely by your struggles at work.

Over the next few days, you started taking small steps to regain control. Bucky helped you establish a routine that included moments of self-care—a short walk in the morning, a dedicated time for reading, even a few moments of meditation before bed. He was patient and loving, never pushing too hard but always there with a supportive word or a warm hug whenever you needed it.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you sat by the window watching the sunset. Bucky joined you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you, doll,” he said softly. “I know it’s been tough, but you’re trying your best, and that means everything to me.”

You leaned into his warmth, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “I’m scared sometimes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Scared that I’ll never get back on track, that I’ll always feel this way.”

Bucky squeezed you gently. “It’s okay to be scared,” he replied. “But remember, I’m here. We’re in this together. And every day, even the small victories count. You’re stronger than you know.”

In that quiet moment, you realized that while the challenges you faced were real, so was the love and support that surrounded you. With Bucky by your side, you began to see that your worth wasn’t measured by a single month of struggles or a few setbacks at work. Instead, it was woven into every kind word, every shared smile, and every moment of understanding that made you feel seen and cherished.

As time passed, the fog of uncertainty slowly lifted. Your work began to improve, not because you forced yourself to be perfect, but because you allowed yourself the grace to be human. And every time you doubted yourself, Bucky’s steady presence reminded you that you were never alone.

In the end, you learned that setbacks were just chapters in your story, not the final page. With love, patience, and a little help from someone who believed in you, you could always find a way to write a new beginning—even after the darkest nights.

And so, with Bucky’s unwavering support lighting your way, you took a deep breath, ready to face tomorrow with renewed hope.