#i am just. i am saying words. but i have so many
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duckidrawzz · 1 hour ago
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a new stream opens, and the footage looked like it’s being filmed on a phone.
I am not dead.
SpookySpaceEats
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Danny: ok, um, let’s see… invite people to stream… CoffeeLover, iamnotafish… robot69… ok, that should be enough for now.
I am not dead.
SpookySpaceEats
3 viewers | 2 likes
*The streamer runs his free hand through his hair nervously* Danny: so… everyone thinks I’m dead.
*he laughs in a slightly crazed manner* Danny: I… am not dead. I’m sorry if you thought I was…? *he seems to reconsider his words* Danny: Well, I didn’t die to food. I’m much too adept at fighting food to die to it.
I am not dead.
SpookySpaceEats
3.5k viewers | 3.5k likes
Danny: wow, that’s… a lot of people, haha. I, um, never really realized I had such a large audience! Heh…
*he looks a bit startled at how many people are watching* Danny: well… in any case… I’m sorry if my, quote unquote, ‘death’ affected you in any harmful manner. It was never my intention to have any of you mourn me, and I should have thought through the way I ended my streaming career. I should’ve thought about… how…
*he seems to see something out of frame, and muffled talking is heard. He nods along with what the person is saying* Danny: well, my sister and I have something to do, so goodbye! I just wanted people to know. That I’m not dead. So yeah. Bye.
<-The stream has ended.->
I am not dead.
SpookySpaceEats
9.7k viewers | 9.7k likes
<-<- ->->
Dc x Dp prompt #1
Danny open a YouTube channel teaching how to cook.
Bonus point : During the live, the food came to life. And he had to fight the food while chats were watching him.
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mywritersmind · 12 hours ago
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THE FAT MAN IN THE RED - LN4
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summary : Lando Norris promised two hours of his night to wave to little ballerinas and have them whisper their wishes to him in a Santa costume. His night starts looking up when a woman his age lands on his lap.
listen up : no warnings tbh! suggestive jokes SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS GONNA WRITE A LOT BUT ITS ALREADY CHRISTMAS TO HAVE THIS
words : 692
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“Oh please! Come meet Santa!” My little sister Mari tugs on my hand. She’s in a little pink tutu and a slick back bun, her ballet shoes have been changed into her usual converse.
We’re at an after party/fundraiser for her ballet show, the kids were all surprised by a man dressed as santa. She was adorable, a tiny Clara!
Mari skips off with her friends as I turn to mine. Kat downs her drink, “I need another one. Too many kids around.” I laugh and clink her already empty champagne glass.
We walk off to the bar, looking up at the giant chandelier and sprawling stairways. This theater is beautiful, kids in costumes and glitter run around while the society of Monaco gossips and laughs in their presence.
We grab more champagne, smoothing out my dark plum dress and almost twisting an ankle with these silver heels my sister begged me to wear.
“Y/n!” Mari yells, hopping up and down, in line to meet the big man himself. Or… a knock off.
“Oh my.” Kat elbows me, “I’d let him slip down my chimney-” I scoff loudly and laugh, hitting her arm.
“What about that french boy you met?” I raise a brow, my eyes lingering on the man whose face is partially covered by a white wig and beard.
“Oh I see him.” She winks as I giggle, “Come on then, you must meet this cute santa!” I groan as she drags me to the back of the line, “I’ve heard whispers… he’s twenty six.” She whispers as I watch two F1 drivers walk past us.
“I am not sitting on his lap!” I laugh, shaking my head and sipping my drink, Kat grips my arm and pulls me to the front next to Mari.
“What are you asking for?” Mari asks me, clapping her little hands together and tapping her feet.
Her friends touches my dress, “This is so pretty!”
“I heard he’s famous.” One of the ballerinas behind us says just as I get pushed onto the little stand and an elf guides me.
He looks at me, all dressed up and in a whole fat suit. I can’t help but laugh as I get helped onto his lap. I honestly feel horribly awkward, “Sorry… my friend made me.”
His eyes are green, the kind of striking color that stops your thoughts. He tugs down his fake beard, exposing his face and smile.
A very attractive face and smile. “Don’t worry. Are you gonna make me do the voice?” He's got freckles and an accent.
I smile softly, “There’s a voice?”
“What are you asking for this christmas?” He says it in a deep santa like voice.
I laugh, “That’s good.”
“Why thank you…” I raise a brow at his trailing off, “I need a name to match the pretty face, and for the address of your gifts, I suppose.”
Oh he’s a flirt. “Y/n.” I nod, “You gonna make me call you santa?” His fingers brush the side of my hip.
“I’m not that into role playing…” He shakes his head and I spot a tiny dark curl by his ear, “Okay the elf’s are about to get mad. What would you like for Christmas, Y/n?”
He says my name, looking me dead in the eye. Shit I think I might be attracted to Santa.
I bite my lip, “How about, what time Santa gets off?”
His smile shifts into a smirk, “Christmas came early, I guess. Ten.”
He meets me in an empty hallway, Its almost hard to tell if it’s him because of his change in clothes.
He's in a black suit, bowtie and everything. He’s far more agreeable without the white hair.
In fact, the white is replaced with real curls. Dark curls cut into a nice mullet that suits his face. It was in fact a fat suit that I can now clearly see was horribly fake.
I have a sneaking suspicion that tonight is going to be extra interesting now. His hands go to his pockets, that smile on display again for me. “I’m Lando.”
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chibinasuu · 1 day ago
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Law x Reader ― sick day; stargazing
part of the cozy holidays event
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🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, cw vomiting, some platonic heart pirates x reader, not part of the request but what the hell let’s throw in some accidental confession in here too as a xmas gift
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“How are you feeling?”
Your Captain's voice was the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness.
You were shivering, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned unsettlingly. You had not felt this bad in ages. 
“Terrible,” you croaked out weakly.  
“Good.” Law said in a deadpan voice, “Serves you right for being stupid.”
You cringed, preparing yourself for the impending scolding from the Captain and Doctor of the Heart Pirates. 
He took a deep breath, “What were you thinking?” 
Here we go. 
“You should know better than to touch and smell some suspicious, unknown plant on an island we barely knew anything about.” 
“In my defense, the flower was very pretty.”
He groaned exasperatedly, “Many poisonous things are!”
“I’m sorry.” You sighed, “I now realize how stupid that was.” 
“Why did you do it anyway?”
“I wanted to show it to you.” You shrugged, “I just thought you’d find it interesting.”
His eyes softened, his frustration melting away at your earnest response. For the record, he did find the flower interesting. In fact, he even went back to retrieve some samples – using proper protective gear, of course – once he made sure you were alright. He wouldn't admit that to you, though, not wanting to justify your reckless actions.
You suddenly felt your stomach lurch, and Law immediately grabbed a bucket, just in time for you to retch your guts out. 
“Let it all out,” Law said, rubbing gentle circles on your back, “I managed to extract most of the poison with my powers, but some traces may still be in your bloodstream.” 
You grimaced at the feel of acid burning your throat. Law handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down greedily. 
“Here, take this.” He handed you a pill, “Should help with the nausea.”
“Thanks.”
You laid back down on the bed once you’d taken the medicine, pulling the blanket tight around your shivering body. The Polar Tang must have been underwater, judging by the chill inside the sub. You wondered how long you were out. 
“I need to discuss our next course with Bepo,” said Law as he touched the back of his hand to your forehead, nodding satisfactorily when he detected no fever.
“You’re on bed rest until tomorrow.” He pointed his index finger at you, “Stay. Put. No funny business, you hear me?”
You nodded.
“Say it out loud.”
You rolled your eyes, “Aye, aye, doctor. No funny business, I promise.”
“Good.” He patted your head once before walking toward the door that led to the hallway. He looked back at you just before he exited, “Try to get some sleep.”
Your mood instantly dropped at Law’s absence – suddenly all of your symptoms felt ten times worse without him there to distract you. 
You heeded Law’s words and tried to get some rest, but sleep eluded you. After around half an hour of you just tossing and turning in bed, the door suddenly swung open, and you brightened at the sight of a fluffy, white head popping in from behind it.
“Hi, sorry!” Bepo tiptoed quietly into the room, “Am I bothering you? Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m feeling a bit better now that you’re here.” You chuckled, “And stop saying sorry, you’re not bothering me.”
“Sorry.” The mink automatically replied, before realizing what he said, “Ah, sorr–“
He chose to just shut his mouth after that.
“You came at the right time actually – I was just about to lose my mind from boredom.” You sighed, “I need some fresh air. I think that would help a bit with the nausea.”
Bepo dragged a chair and sat down next to your bed, “Oh, we’re just about to surface actually. We’re in the open ocean now, so–“
He gasped loudly and covered his mouth with his large paws, “I’m sorry! Please forget that!”
You grinned at the prospect of getting out of here and inhaling some much-needed ocean breeze.
“Oh, Captain’s gonna kill me!” The polar bear looked at you with his big, round, glistening eyes, “Sorry, I know you wanted to go out, but will you please just stay in the sick bay?”
You melted at his cuteness, patting his soft paw reassuringly, “Okay, I will. Don’t worry!”
He sighed in relief and got up, “Oh, great. I’m gonna help prepare the sub for resurfacing now. Please don’t go anywhere and get some rest!”
Once the Polar Tang successfully rose to sea level, Penguin came by with some soup, bringing over his own dinner to keep you company while you ate. 
He didn’t tell you, but you had a feeling he was also under strict orders from Law to make sure that you properly consumed every single drop of that soup.
The clear broth was hearty, warm, and delicious, but you still struggled to keep it down as the remnants of the poison wreaked havoc on your stomach.
Your promise to stay put in the sick bay lasted only about two hours after that. 
Once it was lights-out time, you crept through the dark hallway, heading towards the main door leading to the outside of the submarine. 
You cringed as the wheel creaked slightly when you turned it, but all worries of getting busted sneaking out were forgotten as soon as the first rush of fresh air entered your lungs. 
You spread the blankets you brought from the sick bay on the deck, before sitting on top of it and leaning your head back against the railing.
The stars were out tonight and you looked up at them appreciatively, savoring the unobstructed view of the heavens that only a seafarer could observe.
“I should’ve known you wouldn’t stay put.”
You whipped your head toward the sound of the familiar voice, smiling guiltily at the man leaning against the open door.
“Sorry.” You said, not really sounding apologetic at all, “It was getting stuffy inside.”
The reprimand you expected from him never came, and instead, Law just sat down next to you with a sigh. 
He was silent, eyes trained toward the stars. 
You could tell that something was bothering him, but you stayed quiet, patiently waiting until he was ready to speak.
“I thought I was gonna lose you today.”
The vulnerability in his voice shook you, and you felt your heart race in anticipation of what he would say next. 
“You went to smell that damn flower and suddenly you just… collapsed, and I didn’t know what to do.”
He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck, I’m a doctor and I froze. My mind went blank, my hands wouldn’t move. You should thank Shachi for snapping me out of it, by the way. There’s a reason why on some islands, doctors are not allowed to treat the people they lov–“
Your heart skipped a beat when he abruptly stopped, realizing that he was letting out more than he meant to. 
“What were you about to say?”
His lips stayed pressed together, and he brought one of his hands up to cover the redness spreading across his cheeks. 
“Law,” You took his hand away from his handsome face and tightly gripped it, “Please.”
“I… care about you, alright?” He finally admitted, face flushed and eyes firmly on the sky.
It wasn’t what he was initially about to unintentionally confess, but it was more than you ever hoped to hear from him.
“I know I’m your Captain, and you’re my subordinate. It was never my intention to… fall for you, but I did, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Please feel free to just forget about it.”
You grabbed his face in between your hands, turning his head and letting him see your bright smile.
His eyes widened slightly as you pulled him in and pressed your lips tenderly against his. 
His surprise only lasted a second, and then he was kissing you back, and it was so much better than the million times this scene had played out in your daydreams.
The stars were the only witnesses as he held you impossibly close, melding your lips together in a slow, delicate dance. 
You sighed softly against his lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”
Law gave you one of his rare, genuine smiles, and your heart soared. Oh, the things you would give to see his smile every day.
He firmly gripped the back of your neck and brought you in for another kiss. 
Of course, your stomach chose that exact time to ruin the moment. 
You quickly stood up and leaned over the railing, purging the soup you ate back out from the way it went down. 
Law chuckled teasingly, “Should I be offended? Do I repulse you that much?”
“Shut up!” You whined, “You know it’s not like that!”
He rubbed your back soothingly as you finished emptying your stomach into the ocean below. His hand was pleasantly warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 
“C’mon,” he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Let’s get you back inside.” 
“Can we stay outside for a few more minutes?”
You looked at him with a pleading gaze until he relented and said, “Fine, five more minutes. But you need to layer up.”
He took off his jacket and put it on you, before taking one of the blankets and draping it on top of that.
You dragged him down to lay flat on the deck, and his arm immediately went underneath your head, pillowing it from the cold, hard surface. 
You two ended up staying out there for way more than five minutes.
You pointed out some of the familiar constellations that Bepo had taught you as you took comfort in the warmth of his body against yours. It wasn’t long until you felt your eyelids flickering close.
Law only smiled softly when he noticed your breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.
He gathered you in his arms – one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back – and carried you back into the submarine.
He could’ve just used his powers to “shambles” you both inside in a snap, but he found himself unable to resist holding you in his arms for even one second longer.
Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
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a/n: happy holidays everyone!! and a very merry christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄 i hope this fic can be an acceptable christmas gift from me to all of you 🎁😘 this is my first time writing for law, and i hope i did him justice! i really wanted to get him right because he's such a dear character to me 🥺 also!! i'm opening up a taglist, so please fill out this form if you wanted to be tagged on my future uploads! thanks!
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
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fawninthesnow · 2 days ago
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𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: One Shot
𐙚 Emperor Geta x Empress Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+
Summary: Married to Emperor Geta, you decide to lift his spirits. (No plot smut.)
Warnings/contains: smut, fluff, mentions of violence, f4m, (somewhat) dom fem(?), male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), no aftercare, not proof read
Word Count: 1.3k
More on my Master list!
follow & like pls
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The winds were strong on this day in the arena, the aim of the arrows shot by savage men were skewed. With every miss, the emperors groaned, and with every bloody wound, they cheered. From the large pits of fire beside the royal box, heat blew and fire blazed. A fighter, after a long duel, was put to death with a blade inside of his intestines. From your seat behind emperor Geta, you stood, holding your shawl over your arms.
**
You recall it like yesterday when you were informed by your parents that you would be the wife of a prince. Not just any prince, one of Rome.  “Father, he is younger than me. He will be irresponsible! Immature!” However, you knew what your job was. Marry him and they will spare your country. At the age of twenty-three, there was only one task left in this world for a royal daughter.
Along the long travel, you would bite into your bottom lip until it bled then healed. Repeatedly. The prince was described to you as immature and unruly by some. Deceitful and rough by others. However, that was every man at that age.
**
Later that evening.
Inside of the palace, you two sat across from each other. You read through a scroll as you were fanned. The emperor impatiently bounced his knee and his eyes on the door to his chambers. “He should be here by now.”
“Who?” You asked.
“You are not listening to me. My brother.” Your eyes lifted from the page, “What a nuisance!” As you tilted, your hair fell to the side.
You made your way to him, massaging his shoulders. “Why are you so tense? I am sure he meant no harm. He must be preoccupied.”
“You…have not touched me in a long time. A- and, now you mistaken my brother for an intentional man.” A soft chuckle left your lips as he whined, “Some days, I barely see you. Do you hide from me?”
“No, my love.”
“You do! I see you in the garden with the ladies of the court! I see you…everywhere it seems but not beside me.” Your fingers caressed his throat, his head tilted back.
“Have you shaven?” he shook his head; his red hair covered his eyes.
You sat by his side and held onto his neck with one hand. The other gently shaved down his face, taking the shaving soap along with it. When you were done, he wiped his face warm towel and tossed it elsewhere. Your fingers ran through his hair and moved his curls from his eyes. “Why did you leave during the games?”
“You know I do not like that violence. It is a masculine manner of expression. I am glad you enjoy it but…”
His smile was enough to make you content, “I guess. But when you leave,” Your hand reached around to his side, gently squeezing. Your lips pressed onto his ear as he settled into your hands. “It saddens me.”
“You cannot go everywhere I go, my love. I have duties and you have yours.” You hugged him, and he leaned his head against your bosom. “Please leave us.” You say to the servants as he nuzzled against your breasts. “Geta?” You asked as he pumped his cock beneath his clothes. He squeezed his shaft as he buried his face between. “Would you like help?” Your voice was sultry, and soft; his cheeks grew pink as the seconds passed.
Geta’s face scrunches as he was overwhelmed with sensation, biting his lower lip slightly as he fought for a hold of his breath. His mind goes elsewhere, as if he was reliving the experience.
Although his brother suggested concubines, you're the only one he wanted in this damn palace. The only woman that truly got to him.
When you both met, he was pleasantly surprised. You seemed to have such a kind, caring and nurturing side to you. Not many women would just say that she’ll be patient and understanding to a young man who has never experienced any kind of romance or intimacy. It was a dream come true for him.
Geta kept his chin to your chest when he spoke again. “T- thank you.”
“I love you, Geta.” He smiled and looked into your eyes. His expression was soft, his usual puppy eyes returning. He could sense how much you cared for him, just in the way you spoke to him. “I never want you to feel unwanted.”
“[Y/n]…” The feeling of your body pressed up against his was so euphoric, he'd missed feeling you like this.
You gently kiss his forehead and press your lips against the top of his head. He started to pump his fist around his cock again as you watched. He gently presses his lips along your jaw and neck, leaving several soft kisses along the flesh as he holds you close. His mouth wanders your neck for a few moments before planting another deep kiss on your lips. He held your face and pulled his close, moaning softly as you two shared a passionate kiss that grew heated in a matter of seconds.
He gently wraps his hand around your body, pulling you in closer and giving you a deep and passionate kiss, full of desire and need. He moaned as he felt your body pressed up against his, his skin heating up from the contact. “Make love to me, [Y/n].” He pants softly against your neck, his voice slightly breathy as he places more kisses along the sensitive flesh. He gently grabs your hips and pulls you in closer, so that your body was pressed up tightly against his own. He moans into your skin, desperately craving the feel of you. You tore the clothes from his body, panting into his mouth.
He pulls you close against him; a hand on the back of your knee as he positions himself between your hips.
When he sunk inside of your tight cunt, his eyelids twitched with need. Your hands held onto his face; you enjoyed the looks on his face when you both were intimate.
You kept your legs frayed as Geta fucked you into the pillows; Your thighs twitched, and you scratched the soft pillows behind you. “M- my love.” He gripped your wrists, feeling the strain of your pussy around his cock with every stroke and buck of his hips. He continued to hold himself up, sweat ran down his face; the sight of you beneath him. Your head fell back into the pillows; that expression was one that was earned. He was lost in the way your chest bounce and your eyes roll back. He stroked deeper, slowing the movement. You trembled at his actions; your fingertips drew him close against you. He grinds against your body as your moans echoed throughout the chamber. “Stay right there,” you said through breathless pants, a desperate need in your eyes.
He groaned; wetness seemed to coat his cock and, on his balls, the longer they fucked. “Dammit.” You stiffened, orgasming on his cock. Your hand gripped his throat as your back raised and arched. He lovingly suckled on your neck before continuing his deep strokes inside your snatch. “I- I cannot…last very much longer.” He whimpered into your ear. You caressed his head as he came inside of your pussy. He moaned, his arms gave up from under him and he lay on you; You kissed his lips as he pulled out of your cunt.
 You guide his head lower. He buried his face between your thighs. Geta slowly spreads your pussy with his fingers, dragging his middle finger down your labia. He admired his cum as it slid down to your asshole. “Fuck. I’m so lucky.” He kissed your inner thighs, taking his time. “I want you to ride my face after this.” You weakly moaned, closing your thighs around his head. He suckles on your sensitive clitoris as his middle fingers circled your opening. Your eyelids fluttered as your hips bucked on his face. He kissed your pussy a few times, gently stroking the clitoris.
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Something quick while I finish up some requests!! <3
Thank you for everyone who have requested up to this point!
More on my Master list!
follow & like pls
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crippled-peeper · 23 hours ago
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so many users seem to believe that “physically disabled” and “mentally disabled” are two exclusive distinct groups that never overlap but then turn around and cry about how “exclusive” my 2k note tumblr posts are as if I wrote them with the explicit purpose of making a statement that implies they are less oppressed or less important or less special. the post doesn’t imply anything. it’s literally just a positivity post for physically disabled people. there is no ulterior motive to undermine or belittle your suffering. the idea this post says ANYTHING about mentally disabled people is imagined. nobody is attacking them. nobody is excluding them. this addition is completely unnecessary
I am not a product for you to replicate nor do my posts exist in a vacuum independent of my personhood. would you stand up at my wedding and yell “I do” in the middle of the ceremony? would you run into the room and finish a final college exam for me? have you so little agency, so little free will, that you cannot come up with a creative way to say “mentally disabled people you did your best today”-? on your own? on your own blog? or are there simply TOO MANY posts praising physically disabled people for surviving impossible circumstances that you absolutely cannot help yourself and must steal them word-for-word? is the material suffering of fellow man a big meme to you? can anyone hear me? is anyone out there? It’s so dark here
If you’re physically disabled and you’re reading this you did a good job today
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withwritersblock · 3 days ago
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More Hearts Than Mine - Her Family's Christmas
~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~
Author's Note: Happy holidays! I love you all. I hope you all are enjoying some amazing treats! Summary: Luke spends Christmas Eve with her family Warnings: nothing too bad? Word Count: 5,997 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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Christmas was a huge deal in her family. Last year, she thought it was too soon to have Luke come to her family’s party and he agreed. But this year she decided it would be best to introduce him to her extended family. He’s already briefly met her uncles and her grandparents but nothing like a full family party.
Nothing like all of her aunts and uncles, grandparents, and little cousins all in one house. How fantastic. She loved her family of course, but everyone in one house? How fantastic.
She was anxious that it was going to be a hard holiday. Not that they wouldn’t like Luke, she knew that they were going to love him. But she was worried about the never ending extremely personal questions. Especially the questions about marriage or kids. She has to constantly remind her family that they are twenty-one years old and not everyone wants to get married in their early twenties.
Luke was standing in the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair as he was trying to style it. She walked past him, pulling some drawers open again to see if there were anything else she needed to pack. 
He smiled softly as he pulled his hands away from his hair. He turned on the water to rinse his hands of the gel. “Baby?” he asked softly, raising his eyebrows. She hummed as she pushed the drawers shut as she walked away from him. Quickly, he wiped his hands before he followed after her. “Baby?” he asked again. She spun on her heel and met his gaze. 
A long huff fell from her lips. “Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her frame. He pulled her body towards him. Her entire body relaxed in his arms as he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. “It’s only two days,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 
“There’s just so many of them,” she muttered against his chest. He chuckled as he leaned back slightly, keeping his arms around her. Looking up towards him, her lips fell into a dramatic pout. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers for a second. Y/N leaned her head against his chest.
“You have me, it’ll be okay,” he expressed as he slowly dipped his hand beneath her shirt to comfort her while delicately gliding his fingertips across her skin.
“What time did we say we would be at my parents?” she asked softly. 
“Eight,” he mumbled, “We should probably leave soon.” 
Pulling her head back, she looked up towards him. Her lips fell into a pout again. He raised his hand up as he delicately ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “We should leave in–” he trailed off as he glanced towards the clock on the wall, “fifteen minutes,” he mumbled. That’s all the permission she needed. She took a hold of his neck as she pulled him towards her kissing him urgently.
He smiled into the kiss as he reached down and took a hold of her thighs; lifting her up in a swift movement as he guided her towards their bedroom. “God, I’m going to need you to kiss me a lot in the next few days,” she mumbled after she pulled away. Her hands found his hair, she tugged slightly at the curls. Messing up the curls that he perfected for the last ten minutes. He didn’t care.
“Whatever you need, my love,” he mumbled before he urgently pressed his lips against hers again. Her lips parted allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth as Luke delicately placed her down onto their bed. 
“I am not kissing you in front of your family though,” he muttered before he pressed his lips against her jawline, lowering his lips towards her neck, carefully not to leave any marks on her body. She giggled as her hands continued to tug at his curls as she tilted her head back. Slowly, she glided her hands across his cheeks, desperate for his lips to meet hers again. 
~~
They only had ten minutes left of their car ride and she was singing softly along to the Billie Eilish song playing in the background. Luke was driving as he glided his hand up and down her thigh as they were sitting at a light. 
“How’s Jasmine doing since her breakup?” Luke asked as he met Y/N’s gaze. She let out a huff of air. 
“I’m just happy that douchebag has nothing to do with Jasmine and EJ anymore. But she’s good I think. She’s not good at sharing any emotions.” she explained as her gaze lowered towards his lips for a second. The light turned green and he drove ahead. His thumb rubbed soothing along the fabric of her jeans. 
“Hopefully seeing you will help her,” he said as he turned down the street that led to her childhood house. 
“Hopefully,” she mumbled as her attention switched towards the familiar trees of her hometown street. She missed it, a lot more than she would like to admit. “I should also warn you, my mom goes a little nuts with the decorating.” she explained as they pulled up closer to her house. He nodded as his eyes landed on the elaborate light show that was happening outside of the house. There were people standing outside, admiring the lights.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. Carefully, he parked in the small gravel part of the driveway as his eyes were still admiring the flashing light show. Her own gaze admired the lights, it was the same set up as the past few years but every year she falls in love with it more and more. 
He turned the car off as he shifted his gaze towards her. She smiled softly, “Are you ready?” he asked. Taking in a deep breath, she nodded. He reached his hand over, resting it onto her cheek. His thumb glided along the warm skin of her cheek. Leaning towards her, he delicately pressed his lips against hers.
“Now I am,” she mumbled. He nodded as they both climbed out of the car. She smiled towards her former neighbors who were still standing and admiring the lights. Luke loosely wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked towards the trunk to grab their things for the few days. Reaching down, she tried to take a hold of the bags but Luke quickly took both of them before Y/N shut the trunk. 
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she led the way towards the house. He smiled softly as he followed after her. She quickly rang the doorbell waiting for someone to let them inside. It didn’t take long for her sister to pull the door open.
“Thank god you’re here,” Jasmine said barely above a whisper before she walked back towards the living room. Y/N frowned slightly as she carefully stepped inside. To her surprise, her parents were sitting on the couch wearing matching red and white pajamas. “You have to tell them this is ridiculous,” she expressed pointing towards the other pajama set. 
“Oh my god,” she mumbled as she began to laugh. Her dad was frowning as he was sitting beside her mother but he was happy because she was happy wearing it. 
Her mother stood up and excitedly jogged around the couch to hug her eldest daughter. Her father stood up and began to walk towards Luke. He held out his hands to take one of the bags. “How are you doing, kid?” Her dad asked Luke as the pair walked towards the stairs to head up towards her room. Y/N smiled softly as she watched them. 
“How’s my girl?” her mother asked her as she kept her arm around her body. 
“Good, tired. Been a long day,” Y/N mumbled as she tilted her head against her mother’s shoulder.
“I’ve been wrapping presents all day, I forgot he had a game today! How did that go?” her mother asked. Y/N explained briefly how the afternoon game went before she saw Luke and her father reemerge from the stairs. Luke smiled towards her mother as he offered a hug. She smiled widely as she accepted the hug. “You feeling alright, Luke?” she asked him.
He pulled away and smiled politely towards her. “I’m doing good, thank you for letting me join you guys,” he expressed.
“Oh of course. Your brother is still with his girlfriend’s family right? If he needs a place to visit, he is more than welcome to join us,” she explained. Luke chuckled softly as he glanced towards Y/N.
“He’s all good, thank you Mrs. Y/L/N,” he mumbled as he met EJ’s gaze. He simply nodded before looked back towards his phone; a grin on his lips.
“Uncle Jonathan bought everyone these matching pajamas, so I expect you guys all to be wearing them on Christmas Day,” her mother explained as she pointed a finger towards each of her children, “There’s a set for you too, Luke,” she said as she pointed towards him before she walked passed him towards the kitchen. 
Luke’s eyes widened slightly as Y/N walked towards him. Delicately, she rested her hand onto his chest. “Aren’t you happy you joined us?” she mumbled as she pressed her lips against his cheek before she tilted her head against his shoulder. He forced a tight lip smile on his lips as he took a deep breath. He loosely wrapped his arm around her waist. 
“Get ready,” her father teased as he raised his eyebrows as he followed his wife towards the kitchen. 
“Yeah, what he said,” EJ said while shoving his phone into his pocket, “She goes nuts around Christmas,” EJ elaborated as he shifted his gaze towards the TV showing Santa Paws. 
Lifting her head from his shoulder, she glanced towards Luke. “Let’s go get changed,” she mumbled towards him. He nodded as he let her guide him towards the stairs. 
After a few seconds, they reached her room. She shut the door behind them and let out a long drawn out breath. His back was pressed against the door as he watched her zip open her back to pull out a pair of shorts and a long sleeve shirt. “Baby,” he let out softly. She only let out a hum as a reply.
He scanned her frame as she took a deep breath as she rested her hands onto her hips. Pressing his lips together, he took a few steps towards her. “Baby,” he let out again as he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. Luke pulled her back against his chest. He rested his hand onto her shoulder, as she tilted her head back against his chest. “Breathe,” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his lips against her shoulder. 
After a few seconds, she took deep breath. “I am breathing,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her neck. Delicately, he pressed his lips against her neck for a second. “Thank you for being here,” she mumbled. 
“Always,” he mumbled before he reluctantly stepped away from her to change into something more comfy for the remainder of the night. 
After several minutes, they returned to the main level of the house to see her dad and EJ both carrying two pizza boxes each from the front door. “Dad cooked tonight,” EJ said teasingly as they both walked towards the kitchen to place the pizzas onto the counter.
~~~
It was early, they were both used to waking up before the sun comes up because of school and his morning skate. They were laying facing one another, his hand was gliding along the center of her back. His fingertips grazed along her skin in a figure eight pattern. Her hand glided through his hair, twisting a few pieces between her fingers. 
“How does this usually go?” he asked softly. Inching towards him, she pouted her lips.
“Everyone starts showing up at noon and then we mingle for several hours until my mother decides that we can start eating,” she explained softly, “And then we play games to entertain the little ones and then they leave to just do it all over again on Christmas Day,” 
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” he mumbled as his gaze lowered towards her lips. Her lips curled upward slightly.
“It’s not too bad because we can disappear up here when we need a break,” she mumbled. He smiled as he stifled a laugh. “It’s just loud, all of the time.”
“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. 
A hum fell from her lips as she deepened the kiss as she parted her lips slightly. His hand tightened on her hip as he slowly pushed her down onto her back. Both of her hands took a hold of his cheeks. 
“This is going to help me a lot today, thank you,” she let out quickly before she kissed him urgently again. He giggled against her lips as his thumb rubbed against her skin soothingly. Her fingers glided through his hair as he slowly began to kiss her more urgently. 
His hand began to glide up her side, her body erupted in goosebumps under his touch. His hands started to toy with the waistband of her shorts, debating on tugging them off of her frame. He waited for her to tell him no, but she didn’t. Instead, he ran his hand up her back. 
After a few minutes, Luke reluctantly pulled away, softly pecking her lips as he leaned away. Her lips fell into a pout as she leaned towards him again. “If we don’t stop right now, baby, we’ll regret it later,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her pecking her lips again. 
Her lips fell into a pout as she pulled him towards her again. He smiled against her lips as they kissed for a few more seconds. 
“You’re right, I love you,” she mumbled against his lips. 
He leaned back looking over her features, “I love you,” he whispered before he laid onto his side, pulling her body towards him. His lips delicately pressed against her shoulder. “What time do we need to start getting ready?” he asked barely above a whisper. 
“Another hour at the latest,” she mumbled as she shut her eyes. He pressed his lips against her shoulder again as he ran his hand along her side. 
“Perfect,” he mumbled as he brushed a few pieces of hair off of her neck. Delicately pressed his lips against her neck, slowly gliding his tongue along the hot skin. 
A hum fell from her lips as she rested her hand on top of Luke’s as she glided her hand up and down his arm. Everything was always perfect when it was just them. Her back pressed against his chest and his hands roaming her frame. His lips pressed against her hot skin.
“Careful Lukey,” she mumbled. He hummed against her skin as she reached her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair. 
“I’m being careful,” he mumbled against her skin, a smile forming to his lips. 
“You’re the one that said we had to stop,” she explained teasingly. Slowly, he continued to kiss the skin of her neck as he slowly pressed wet kisses down; against her shoulder down her arm. He interlocked their fingers as he continued to kiss down her arm. “Lukey,” she mumbled. 
Luke began to trail his lips back up her arm. Biting her bottom lip, she slowly slipped away from his grasp. “Hey,” he let out as he watched her stand up from the bed. She adjusted the tanktop and the shorts on her frame as she looked towards him. He was laying on his side, his cheeks were flushed red.
“I need to go shower before–” she trailed off as she admired the abs muscles tensing as he leaned back on his elbows. Taking a deep breath, she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. The only thing that was on her mind was taking the remainder of her clothes off and his off at the same time. Her breathing quickened as her eyes continued to trail his frame. It never got old the way his body looked. Mouth watering.
“Before we have sex in my childhood bedroom,” she said as her voice got quieter. Luke chuckled as he covered his face with his hands.
Y/N quickly slipped out of the bedroom, leaving Luke alone in her bedroom. Lifting her gaze up she met EJ’s gaze as they nearly bumped into one another. Clearing her throat, she pressed her lips together as her eyes widened. 
“It’s weird seeing someone else awake this early,” EJ mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. She nodded as she glanced towards the door. EJ’s eyebrows furrowed harshly as he stared towards his older sister. “Oh no, were you guys doing stuff in there?” he asked quietly, his face scrunched up in disgust. 
“No!” she whispered loudly. 
“We share a wall, Y/N!” he said as he pointed towards the doors. 
“We weren’t doing anything! Now I need to shower,” she expressed as she walked towards the bathroom.
“Why’s that? Huh?!” he whispered as he jogged passed her towards the stairs.
“What was so interesting about your phone yesterday, huh?” she whispered loudly towards him. He spun around to meet her gaze. 
“Touche,” he said while squinting his eyes slightly before he further climbed down the steps. She chuckled as she stepped into the bathroom.
~~~
It was a little after twelve and they were all waiting for the first collection of her family to arrive. She was sitting beside Luke. He was wearing a tan quarter zip with dark wash jeans. She was wearing a green sweater dress. The  Her head was rested onto his shoulder as his hand was rested low on her furthest thigh. He was delicately running his thumb along her skin soothingly.
Y/N watched EJ grin towards his phone as he was typing quickly, obviously texting someone he was interested in. She was planning on bugging him about it later but there was a loud knock against the front door. Before anyone had a chance to go pull the door open, her Uncle Jonathan stepped inside. His wife, Aunt Lola, and their four young children follow quickly in pursuit.
“So it begins,” she mumbled as she leaned towards Luke and pressed her lips against his cheek. He smiled softly as he squeezed her leg. She brought her thumb up and wiped away some of the lipstick left on his cheek. 
Slowly, they stood up and she adjusted the dress lower on her frame. He kept his hand on her center back as he looked down and met her gaze. “Breathe,” he mouthed towards her as he widened his eyes. She smirked as she took a dramatic deep breath.
“Oi! Where’s my first niece!” Jonathan shouted from the kitchen. She walked towards the kitchen with Luke by her side. “There she is!” he shouted as he happily stepped towards her. 
“Hi Uncle J,” she mumbled as she reached over and hugged him. Looking over towards Lola, she smiled politely. Lola was always much quieter than Jonathan but they blended perfectly. 
Her little cousins were already running around, bumping into everyone. Y/N clenched her jaw as she smiled politely towards Jonathan. 
“Hey Luke,” Jonathan said as he offered his hand towards him. Luke smiled as he took the handshake. “You guys are killing it this year,” he said, “How’s that shoulder? How’s your brother’s face, that shit didn’t look good.” he conintued while meeting Luke’s gaze.
Luke’s mouth opened and then clamped shut quickly. He chuckled nervously as he wrapped his arm tighter around Y/N. His hand rested onto her hip. “Shoulder’s great, Quinn’s getting better; yeah. We’re good yeah,” he mumbled as he bunched some of the fabric in his hand.
“That’s awesome! I mean yeah, it sucked not having you but how about that new coach of yours–” Jonathan continued but Y/N tuned out the conversation as one of her little cousins shoved against her. 
“Y/N! Come play Mario Kart!” her little cousin Benny said as he took a hold of her hand. Her eyes widened as she looked down towards him.
“Later, buddy. See if Jas wants to play!” she encouraged. Without any argument, he ran away in the small house. 
Luke tightened his grip on her waist, almost as a call for help, “–That game the other day was tough, man. You were great, Jack–it was so unlucky,” Jonathan was still talking when she turned back into the conversation. Luke was politely nodding along. “Oh man, how long have you two been together? Two years, almost three?”
“Almost two years,” Y/N peeped out. 
“Damn, Luke, you’ve stuck around with our Y/N for two years? Wow,” Jonathan said while laughing. He smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder so hard that Luke nearly fell forward. 
“I’m going to scream,” she mumbled. Luke glided his hand up her back trying to be soothing but he understood why she was stressed about it. “Can we disappear?” she asked softly as she took a hold of his chin and forced his gaze towards her. His eyes widened as he scanned her features.
“I don’t think we can,” he let out barely above a whisper. Y/N’s lips fell into a pout as she glided her hand down his chest.
“God, how did I survive this without you for twenty years?” she mumbled before she started walking towards the living room to see her grandparents enter the house. EJ shot up from the couch to help with the food that they were carrying. Y/N pointed towards them, letting Luke know that they should also assist.
“I’ve got these, Elijah. There’s more in the car,” her grandfather said simply as him and her grandmother walked deeper into the small house. EJ quickly jogged out of the house with Y/N and Luke quickly behind them. 
It was freezing outside, there was nearly a foot of snow on the ground. But it was the first time she was able to breathe in the last fifteen minutes.
“How are you handling Y/L/N’s Christmas, Lukey?” EJ shouted as he walked towards the trunk of the SUV. Luke chuckled as he let Y/N slip away from his grasp.
“Y/N said loud and she was right, it’s loud.” he said while smiling softly. EJ barked out a laugh. 
“We’re still missing Uncle Mark and his seven kids,” EJ mumbled as he took three trays of food. Luke’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open.
“Seven?! You didn’t say seven?” Luke let out while laughing awkwardly.
“By seven he means triplet toddlers.” she explained. Luke took a deep breath.
“You did tell me that,” Luke mumbled as Y/N handed him two trays. 
“They’re practically seven children combined, insane little feisty chihuahuas that bite! They bite!” EJ explained as he walked towards the front door of the house that Jasmine was holding open. Luke awkwardly held the trays as he watched her hold one against her chest as she closed the trunk. 
“I would definitely keep your hands up high,” Y/N said teasingly as they reemerged into the house. Jasmine shut the door behind them; practically dodging the kids and other adults.
It took another thirty minutes before Mark, his wife, and their three children all showed up. The three toddlers quickly found EJ and began climbing him and asking him to hold them. Luke and Y/N were practically glued to each other’s side.
They were sitting in the living room with a few of her little cousins playing a board game at the center of the room. Jasmine was always good with the young cousins, she was so patient. She was helping them with the game and letting them win. 
“Y/N! Can you come help me with this?” her mother shouted loudly from the kitchen. She shifted her gaze towards Luke and he nodded as he glided his hand off of her thigh.
“You’ll be alright?” she asked softly. He nodded encouragingly as she continued walking through the living room towards the kitchen. She smiled towards her Aunt Maggie who was drinking a wine while watching over the living room. 
She walked into the kitchen to see that the dinner was still being prepared. “Hey honey, I need you to help me with that,” her mother said as she pointed towards the unmashed potatoes. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. 
“Are you sure?” she asked softly. Her mother laughed.
“Honey, you can’t mess up mashing potatoes, I’ll keep an eye on you,” her mother teased. Y/N smiled softly as she began to mash the potatoes. “Maggie, what do you think of Luke?” her mother asked. Y/N poster straightened as her eyes widened. She continued to mash the potatoes. 
“I think he’s a cutie pie, holds on to you for dear life,” Maggie said as she walked over to the kitchen happily. Y/N chuckled nervously as she kept her gaze in front of her. “He seems madly in love with our Y/N, doesn’t he?” 
“Oh, he definitely is. She’s going to marry him someday,” her mother said softly. 
Y/N felt a grin forming to her lips as her cheeks got hot very quickly. “Mom,” she scolded slightly.
“What?! We adore Luke, he’s perfect. Look at him,” she said pointing towards the living room. 
Y/N frowned slightly as she shifted her gaze behind her to see Luke sitting on the couch. Her triplet cousins were surrounding him. He grinned as he was nodding along to the toddler babbles. Luke was bouncing one of the toddlers on his knees as the other one was showing him her shoes. He was smiling widely and replying the best way he could.
Her lips curled upward as she watched him with her youngset cousins. Her heart felt as though it literally swelled as she watched him surrounded by little kids. Her lips fell into a small pout with so much admiration. He wasn’t annoyed, just pure joy surrounded by the children.
Luke shifted his gaze towards her, he smiled widely as he pointed towards the children surrounding him. Mouthing something along the lines of they like me. 
Suddenly the thought of him as a father flashed into her mind. Seeing him cuddle their own child. Swaying back and forth, a wide grin on his lips. An image of chasing after their own rambunctious toddler. Her lips quivered slightly as she continued to admire him.
Her mother spun around to look towards her daughter, “Talk about madly in love, Maggie,” she mumbled towards Maggie as Y/N was still staring towards Luke. “My daughter has never looked like that,” she expressed.
“I don’t think any of us have ever looked like that,” Maggie said as she finished her wine glass. 
Y/N pulled herself together as she looked towards Maggie before she looked back towards her mom. “What?” she let out barely above a whisper. 
Maggie walked towards Y/N and the bottle of wine beside the giant bowl of potatoes. “You are so in love, my dear. You’re glowing,” she mumbled before she poured more wine into her glass. “You’re oozing happy,”
Y/N giggled as she returned to masahing the potatoes. “I’m not oozing happy,” she mumbled. 
After another twenty minutes, she was finally freed from the kitchen towards the living room. Luke was no longer sitting in the living room. Her eyes widened as she panickingly looking around the house trying to find him. 
She took a deep breath as she peaked through the window outside towards the front yard. Walking towards the window she saw EJ and Luke having a snow ball fight outside with all of the young cousins outside. 
Lola and Bethany were filming their kids enjoying the snow with the older boys. Y/N walked towards the door and stepped outside, rubbing her hands against her arms.
Luke lifted his gaze, held his hands up in a timeout motion as he jogged towards her. “Hey beautiful, wanna join?” he asked with a wide grin on his lips, he was slightly out of breath. His nose was bright red and his cheeks and his ears looked as though they were going to fall off. 
“No, no it’s okay. I’m glad you guys are having fun,” she mumbled as she rested her hand onto his arm for a moment. “Do you need a scarf, your nose is really red,” she mumbled while running her hand up and down his arm. He shook his head while laughing. 
“Uh no–” he pointed towards Benny who was scooping up another snowball. “Your cousins love hitting my face but I think EJ and I are winning,” Luke said as he placed his hands onto his hips. 
“Lukey! I’m getting destroyed over here!” EJ shouted as he jogged away from the six snowballs flying at him. 
Luke smirked as he reached towards her. “Luke, no,” she let out while chuckling nervously. He smirked again as he took a hold of her waist, lifting her up from the ground. “I am in a dress! Luke!” she said while laughing, she gripped the ends of her dress.
The kids started giggling as they launched snowballs towards Luke and Y/N. “Luke Hughes!” she began to kick her feet forward. “Lukey, stop!” she let out while laughing as she felt another snowball hit her chest. 
Slowly, he delicately placed her down on the ground. He dragged his hands across her sides quickly as she spun around and looked up towards him. Scowling slightly, she stared towards him. He pursed his lips forward as he fought the smile on his lips. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered before she walked quickly back towards the front door. He barked out a laugh before he dodged another snowball. 
He followed after her, “Are you okay?” he asked softly. She spun around meeting his eye, rolling her eyes playfully. 
“I’m wet and cold. You owe me,” she mumbled teasingly as she lowered her gaze towards his lips. 
Quickly, she walked back inside, crossing her arms over her chest. His mouth fell open as he bit his bottom lip fighting off a grin. He glanced towards her aunts in teh window before his eyes widened slightly. His smile faltered before he went back to the snowball fight.
~~~
The following morning, they were still exhausted. “I don’t think I physically can handle another day of this,” she mumbled as she continued to trace her fingertips along his body. Her manicured fingertips created goosebumps all along his skin. His hand glided along her back, his hand dipped beneath her shirt, feeling her skin.
“Just have to make it to tonight,” he let out as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. She glided her hand up his chest as she slowly lifted her head up from his chest. She looked down towards him. Her hand rested onto his cheek as she glided her thumb across his cheek. A small smile formed to her lips. “What?” he asked softly, his lips curling upward.
“Everyone loves you,” she whispered. His eyes flickered over her features.
“Yeah?” he let out as his hand glided up into her hair. She hummed as she leaned down kissing him delicately. “Really?” he mumbled against her lips.
“I think my Aunt Maggie’s exact words were ‘He’s a cutie pie, holds on to you for dear life,” she repeated, quietly mocking her aunt’s voice. His mouth fell open as he fought off a laugh.
“I do not hold onto you for dear life,” he let out as he glided his hand lower on her frame. She smirked before she leaned down and kissed him delicately. Luke reached down and took a hold of her thigh, pulling her onto his lap. She giggled against his lips as she adjusted the blanket on her frame. 
“They also said I’m madly in love with you,” she explained between kisses. He grinned as he glided his hands along her sides.
“Now that’s true,” he mumbled before taking a hold of her neck and pulling her towards him to kiss her desperately.
“Don’t lie, my love. You do hold onto me for dear life,” she mumbled against his lips. He chuckled as he quickly rolled her onto her back. Luke climbed on top of her as he kissed her urgently. He kept a hold of one of her thighs as he held himself up with his hand beside her head. She giggled loudly as he started peppering kisses along her jawline.
“Maybe I do,” he mumbled as he trailed his lips down her neck. 
“Careful, Lukey,” she let out while giggling, her hands running through his hair as he continued to lower his lips down her frame. He pushed the tank top strap off of her shoulder as he continued suck and swirl his tongue along her skin.
“Didn’t you say that I owed you,” he mumbled as he slowly trailed his lips up her neck again. His hand glided up her thigh, toying with the fabric of her shorts. Her breathing quickened as she tilted her head back.
“Lukey,” she let out breathlessly. He hummed against her neck before he lifted his head up to meet her eye. She took a hold of his cheeks as she ran her thumbs across his skin. 
He leaned down and kissed her urgently, “This is all I want,” she mumbled against his lips, he hummed as he began to trail his lips down her neck. “But we cannot do this when my little brother is sleeping–” she explained and he instantly rolled onto his back. He chuckled awkwardly as he stared towards the ceiling. “He’s like right over there,” she let out barely above a whisper as she rested her hand onto his chest. 
“Baby,” he mumbled while laughing as he met her gaze. “I didn’t need to think about that,” he explained while fighting a grin. 
There was a loud knock against her door. “Can I come in here?” EJ shouted from outside the door. Y/N adjusted the tank top on her frame as she ran her fingers through her hair. Looking down she met Luke’s gaze and nodded slightly.
She stood up and ran towards the door and pulled it open. Dramatically, Y/N waved her hand to allow him to step inside. “Can I ask for some advice?” he asked as he began to pace back and forth. Luke sat up slightly, adjusting the blanket on his frame. Y/N nodded as she climbed onto the bed, and draped the blanket over her own lap. Luke rested his hand onto her thigh as he began to glide up and down the inside of her thigh. 
“You guys are like the perfect couple, right? I mean you guys are disgustingly perfect,” EJ began, “There’s this girl who’s perfect. She’s gorgeous and funny and smart. She’s literally the most perfect woman I have ever met and she–she likes me. Like she has feelings for me and I’ve never had someone even think about me like that and she likes me. I don’t want to screw this up and I need help on how to not screw this up. Because you two like breathe and know what each other’s thinking and that’s not normal so I need help.” he ranted. 
Luke pressed his lips together, fighting off a grin as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. Luke patted his hand against the mattress. “Listen and learn, EJ,” he expressed somewhat teasingly.
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Pitfighter! Vi X Reader: You are the only exception
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Warnings: smut, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving),fingering , Vi being a meanie (just a little), fluff, not proofread.
Word count: 2,4K
A/n: Might do a pt 2 (if y'all want it 🤷‍♀️)
You never expected that talking to Vi that one night would have made you end up here. 
Vi’s face is buried between your legs, pulling a sigh from your lips. Your hands grip at the cardboard beneath you body, desperately trying to stop yourself from bucking into her face. You can feel the strong muscles of her shoulders clench as she doubles down on her movements, making a moan rip from your mouth. Vi smirks against your cunt, one hand caressing your thigh as the other continues to put pressure on your hips. 
Loris had told you Vi’s fight tonight had been harder than usual and that he was worried she’d do something stupid. 
“Why don’t you go check on her then?”
“I tried. She told me to fuck off.”
You chuckled, shaking your head.
“She’ll listen if you go. She’s got a soft spot for you.”
That was true. You didn’t know why but Vi seemed to take your advice quite seriously. You’d met her a couple of weeks ago. You were dancing at one of the bars when she stumbled in, completely shitfaced. She’d bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. Most people would have taken one look at Vi and let it go. But not you.
 Oh no, not you. 
You marched right up to her, tapping her on her leather clad shoulder. She turned to face you, eyes falling on your angered expression. 
“You owe me a drink.”
Vi sighed, hand moving to rub at her eyes. She just wanted a quiet night out.
“Do I know you?”
The annoyance was clear in her tone but you didn’t back down. 
“No you don’t. But that didn’t stop you from crashing into me like some drunken sailor.”
Vi couldn’t help but smirk. You were feisty for your size. People normally went the other way when they saw her coming but not you. You walked your cute butt right in her direction. She couldn’t help but be amused. Vi turned to the bartender ordering a glass of her favorite beer, before turning to face you again.
“What you having princess?”
From that night on you became a constant in Vi’s life. You went to all her fights, intensely shouting the whole time as she ploughed through her opponents. When she won you would take her out for a drink, oftentimes dragging her to the dance floor with you. She didn’t really care for dancing but she made the sacrifice for you. When she lost you were the one you would drag her back to her bed, ignoring her mumbles and aggravated words. She’d tell you to fuck off and you tell her to go fuck herself right back. Not many people could handle Vi the way you did and even if she didn’t say it she was grateful for you. 
You had told Lois you’d check on the pink haired girl. He’d given you a grateful look and warned you that she would probably be wound up because of her last fight. He had been right. The second you stepped into her room you could feel the tension in the air. The place was filled with the sound of Vi hitting her punching bag with all her might. You walked in, taking a glance at the broken mirror before moving to sit down on her makeshift bed. You picked at your nails as you waited for Vi to finish ragging. 
“I already told Loris to fuck off.”
“Well I'm not Loris am i?”
You gave Vi a girn which she didn’t return. She gave the bag one last good punch before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Come here.”
“Princess i’m really not-”
“Violet come here.”
Vi raised her head to look up at you. Your tone was commanding but she knew you meant nothing by it. You just wanted her to shut up and let you help her out. She sighed, dragging her feet on the floor as she walked over to you. You moved so that she could sit next to you. 
“You wanna tell me what’s up or…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
You frowned slightly at her dismissive tone but you knew to respect her wishes. There was a lot about Vi you didn’t know about. You hadn’t known her for a long time but even so you’d grown attached to her fairly quickly. That didn't mean she told you everything but something about the way she behaved told you she’d been hurt a lot during her life. You wanted to be there for her. A shoulder to lean on when things got hard. Vi turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours. She placed a hand on your cheek.
“Distract me princess?”
“Sure Vi.”
Vi moved to sit down on the floor in front of you. You knew exactly what she wanted. You widen your legs, allowing her to slot her body against you. Your hands went to her hair, caressing her locks. Vi sighed as your hands massaged her scalp. She didn’t know how you did it but this always managed to remove all the tension in her body. It was such a simple act but it helped wonders. Your hands began to become stained with black as you continued your caress. It’s not like you minded though. You would just wash the grime off when you finished up. Vi sighed, her head moving to rest on your thigh. Your eyes fidgeted to the tattoo on the back of her neck. You always wondered if it had hurt a lot. You thought of asking Vi but something caught your attention. Vi’s lips were close to your thigh. She wasn’t doing anything, but the thought of her lips on your skin made you shiver. The truth was that you had a thing for Vi. The night you’d met you had expected to hate her but you’d been surprised. You had a crush on Vi and no intention of telling her.
Until now that is.
Vi felt your muscles become rigid for a moment. She could feel your fingers tense against her hair, causing her to raise her head. She turned to look at you. You stared down at her, your heart beating faster at the sight of her between your legs. Vi put a hand on your leg which didn’t help at all.
“Everything ok princess?”
Gosh she sounded so hot, her voice scratching against her throat due to all the screaming she’d done hours prior. Your face flushed, your body raising abruptly to stand. The action caused Vi’s face to be directly in front of your crotch and you almost fainted. The pink haired girl cocked her head to the side, brows furring at your odd behavior. She opened her mouth to speak but paused when her eyes caught onto something. There was a wet patch on your pants. It was barely there and the fabric of your shorts hid it well but the angle she was looking up at you made it very clear. Vi’s mouth went dry for a moment. 
After everything that had happened with Caitlyn she had stopped thinking about a lot of things. Sex wasn’t something that was on her mind a lot. She’d hardly get horny lately but the realisation that you were standing in her room, your wet cunt inches from her face made something snap inside her. 
You hadn't registered that Vi knew what was happening, far too focused on slowing your heartbeat to notice the gears turning in Vi’s head. You felt her hand wrap around your thigh, making your head snapp down to look at her. Vi’s pupils were incredibly dilated, she licked her bottom lip absentmindedly, not knowing how the action affected you. 
“Need a little help with this?”
She nodded her head at your crotch and you swore you could die of embarrassment. You unlatched yourself from her grip stumbling against her bed as you tried to move away from her. 
“I’m sorry I didn't mean to. You were so close and I just started thinking about the feeling of…”
Vi rose from the floor, watching as you struggled to make full sentences. She’d never seen you this flushed before, you were usually very confident around her. The thought that she could manage to make you this flustered thrilled her more than she had anticipated. 
“Hey.”
Vi’s voice made you look up from the floor, eyes moving against her features. She placed her hand on your cheek, slowly inching herself closer to you. Her knee slipped between your legs and you let out a whine. Vi smiled, her face mere inches from yours.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, princess.”
She moved her leg up putting more pressure against your pussy. Your hand latched onto her shoulder, nails digging into the muscles as you gasped. 
“So. Do you want my help or not?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
You could feel Vi’s breath against your lips as she spoke.
“I want to.”
You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body launched forward, lips crashing into Vi’s in a desperate kiss. You bit into her lip causing her to groan against your mouth. Vi grabbed at your hips, tugging you up. You wrapped your legs around her waist. She placed a hand on the back of your waist as the other moved to give your ass a squeeze. You gasped against her lips, allowing her to slip her tongue inside your mouth. Her boots clanged against the floor as she walks both of you over to her makeshift bed. She sinks down to her knees, placing you down on the edge of the bed as she continues to attack your mouth. You let out a content sigh as she moved to kiss your neck. 
“Vi i…”
“Yeah?”
She hasn’t even touched you yet and your voice already sounds so fucked out. It makes pride swell into her chest. Your hands grip at her locks tugging them slightly. She detaches her lips from your collarbone at the action, blue eyes gazing up at you.
“You gonna keep teasing or are you gonna help me out?”
“Bossy.”
“You know you love it.”
Vi smiles, nipping at your bottom lip for a moment before answering.
“I really do.”
The confession makes you blush and Vi thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Her hands move to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shorts. You lift your hips up, allowing her to pull them down your legs. She runs her finger against your clothes cunt, making you buck your hips up. She leans down to kiss your stomach, slowly inching herself lower. Her hand pushes against your stomach, silently telling you to lean back. You do as she asks laying on the bed beneath you. Vi’s hand latch onto your underwear, giving the waistband a small slap against your skin before begging to tug them off. Vi’s brain almost shortcuts at the sight of your bare pussy before her. You’re so incredibly wet for her that it takes her a moment to recover cognitive function. 
“Vi.”
Her name escapes your lips in a throaty whine,causing her to look up at your face.
“Please.”
You are begging for her to give you some release. Begging for her to fuck you stupid with her tongue. And by god if that doesn’t make her horny.
She tugs your legs over her shoulder, shifting herself in a more comfortable position before leaning down to give a lick to your slit. Your reaction is immediate. Your hands latch onto her hair, hips bucking as you chase the feeling of her tongue. The soft whine that escapes your lips makes Vi’s heart pound. She dragged her tongue against your clit, giving it a rough suck before continuing to lapp at your folds. One of her hands moves from its position on your hips, moving up to grab at your tits. Her thumb moves over your clothed breasts, caressing them. But it’s not enough, you want to feel her skin against yours.
Your hips shift slightly as you force yourself to sit up. Vi glances at you curiously for a moment, trying to understand what you're doing. You grab the hem of your shirt tugging it over your head. Vi’s eyes widen as your bare chest is revealed to her. Before she can help it one of her hands wrapped around your breast giving it a squeeze. You let out a loud moan, causing Vi to look at your face. Your eyes are shut, lips slightly parted in pleasure.
“Hey.”
Your eyes open at Vi’s voice, head moving to look down at the girl.
“Eyes on me princess. I want to see you.”
You give her a small smile, shifting back to lean on your elbows. Vi gives you a pleased smile before moving her focus back to your pussy. You try all your might to keep your eyes on Vi as she eats you out but it’s quite the challenge. Vi can tell you're getting close by the way your legs begin to shake around her head. It causes her to move her hand, fingers moving to help her tongue as she brings you to your peak. Your walls clench around her digits as you coat her face in your cum. Your elbows give out as your orgasm washes over you, causing you to fall onto the bed.
“That's it, let it out princess.”
Vi helps you through it, lips moving to give kisses to your thighs as she carefully removes her fingers from inside you. You let out a moan at the sudden emptiness. Vi moves off the floor, climbing up into the bed beside you. She lays on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. You shift closer to her, legs entangeling with hers as you rest your head on her chest. Vi places a small kiss to your temple.
“I had no idea.”
You look up at her.
“About what?”
“That you were attracted to me.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Vi i’ve had a thing for you since that first night at the bar.”
“Oh really?”
You bite your lip, a mischievous look taking over your features. You sit up, shifting until your body is straddling Vi’s hips. She smiles up at you, her hands moving to grip your waist.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you just how much I like you.”
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planetpedri · 19 hours ago
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Moments 𖦹 Alexia Putellas !
summary. on your second christmas together, alexia can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of love for you.
word count. 510+
disclaimers. fluff , wlw !!
bea speaks. merry xmas to those who celebrate!! if not, well just happy day! it’s actually xmas eve for me rn but i needed to post..
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The snow was light in Barcelona, which you were grateful that there was even any—but the air had a wintery bite. Inside the warmth of your shared home, christmas lights sparkled throughout the room, casting soft glows of many colors over your faces and the walls. You sat beside Alexia, wrapping a few extra presents in a sea of colorful papers and ribbons.
Alexia had been quiet the whole night, her usual playful quips absent. You’d figured she was just tired and it’s not like you didn’t enjoy being in the silence with her, until it reached thirty minuted before midnight, and you could see her eyebrows pulling together the more she thought.
Finally putting the scissors aside, you nudge her knee. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
She glances up at you, her expression tender but distant. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am,” she answers softly.
Smiling at her, although her tone gave you slight pause, you tilt your head to the side questioningly. “Lucky how?”
“For you.” She murmured, her eyes flickering over your face.
“For this. For us.” She picked up a small ornament on the tub beside her, one that had your names written in sloppy glittered letters. It was pink, you’d picked it out last Christmas—a small memento to your first holiday spent together.
“I’d never thought i’d have peace like this in my life. I’d always been so focused on football—too focused. You know? Like I was afraid I’d get too in deep if I let someone in.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, but you nodded anyways. “And now?” You ask gently.
“Now I can’t imagine my life without you.” She admitted, her voice raw as she gave you a half-lipped smile. “I’m always afraid of losing this—you.”
Moving closer, your heart aching at her words, you take the ornament from her hands and set it aside. “Cariño, you’re not going to lose me,” You say as firmly as possible, cupping her face lightly. “I’m going to be around for every moment, every Christmas, and everything in between. I am not going anywhere.”
The blondes lips quirked into an actual smile then, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. “You have a way with words.”
“I do.” You grin, brushing a thumb over her cheek, “I’m here because I love you, every moment with you.. I cherish, even the quiet nights like tonight.”
Alexia leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours. “Seriously, how do you always know what to say?”
“Because I’m just as lucky as you are?” You quip, Pulling away to smirk at her.
With a small chuckle, Alexia wrapped her fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer to place her lips on yours.
The warmth of her lips spread across you, spreading through your chest like the lights from the tree. Pulling away ever so slightly, you whisper against her lips, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, mi amor.” She murmured right back, now only feeling warm and full of love for you.
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likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future alexia posts.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @h4vertzz @spidybaby
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mask131 · 3 days ago
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Normally I would have reblogged this to my Oz side-blog but I will reblog this here first because somehow there's more Oz fans here than on my Oz sideblog? Tumblr is weird...
Upon seeing this very popular post I have to add my two cents of a thoughts... Because while I agree with half of it, I disagree with another half, and it's mostly a question of nuance.
My main point is: It is not because people dump on Wicked that in return people should dump on Baum's Oz. I am saying that in regard of the "Oz originally doesn't have any continuity". I admit myself I am one of the first people to put forward the fact Baum was a bit of an anti-Tolkien when it came to Oz because at one point he didn't care about logical and coherent worldbuilding and just threw whatever he wanted at the wall... HOWEVER! I realize now how these words might mis-guide people because it doesn't mean Baum didn't care about continuity at all.
The early Oz books are actually trying to form a coherent whole. When Baum wrote "The Marvelous Land of Oz" he was not FORCED to do it because of "popular demand". He wanted to do it. Partially because he wanted to adapt it as a musical once it was over, but when he wrote the novel he still intended it to be a logical, continuing sequel to his Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and he worked to refit elements taken from his musical adaptations (like Pastoria) into the world of Oz as presented in his first novel. Same thing with the third novel, Ozma of Oz - when you read these first three books one after another they are cohesive. Just because later Baum decided to abandon a bit continuity and do massive retcons for the sake of telling new stories doesn't mean he never cared about continuity, and the start of the Oz series was an effort to make one complete world that made sense. Oz first became a series because Baum wanted it to be ; the whole thing of a "sense of duty towards the fandom" (which wasn't actually a sense of duty, his others works just didn't sell while everybody bought his Oz books) came later.
Yes, after the sixth book (which was meant to be the great finale but didn't work to end the series), Baum ended up making a LOT of books that openly contradicted the worldbuilding established in the first novels... But they still were coherent and cohesive in their own right. It is just that Baum chose to retcon and massively shift some worldbuilding rules in order to have a setting perfect for a kid-friendly long-running series where he could include everything and anything - but once he established these new rules, he stuck to it and explored them in various ways (such as the rule of "No living being can die in Oz", which of course contradicts the early books, but becomes a core principle of "later Oz" and is explored in various novels - such as the one introducing the Tin Soldier). Yes Baum contradicted, shifted and retconned, but to say he had no sense of continuity or canon is frankly way too harsh.
We were having a talk with @themousefromfantasyland about Baum's The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus novel, and he did make a point that this books contradicts the "anti-Tolkien" reputation of Baum as in there you have a strong, solid, complex worldbuilding working very well for its own little Christmas epic, self-contained in one sturdy novel. And that's the thing with Baum: outside of his Oz series, each of his individual works had a strong and solid worldbuilding, or nice continuity in the case of mini-eries. Oz was an exception just because it went on for way more than what he already planned, and Baum had to juggle between various media (the Oz franchise he run wasn't just novels, it was also stage musicals, movies, and even early comic books).
My second point is this: I do agree people shouldn't entirely reject Maguire's novel out of it being "non-canon" to Oz. Because it is part of a long series of revisionist works inventing, reinventing or twisting Oz in various ways. The MGM movie was first, but you have so many, from The Wiz to Emerald City, passing by Tin Man, or Lost in Oz, or to have something more akin to Maguire's 90s dark, edgy, sex-and-drugs counter-culture approach to Oz, the Oz Squad comics. HOWEVER! HOWEVER! I do think it is important to remind people Maguire wrote his own thing, on his own side, and that "Wicked" is its own thing.
What do I mean by that? Very simple... I have seen, looked at, chatted and interacted with a concerning number of people who are convinced Wicked (be it the musical or the novels) are "canon" in the sense that... somehow they believe when Maguire named his Wicked Witch of the West Elphaba, it retro-actively baptisez the Witch of the West in Baum's novel. Or that the Wicked musical was actually allowed or produced by the MGM as an "official" complement to their movie, meant to act as a real prequel to it. You should not underestmate how POPULAR Wicked was compared to other Oz revisionist works or adaptations, resulting in a lot of people ending up knowing only the MGM movie and the Wicked franchise, sometimes with Return to Oz, and not knowing anything about the novels. This results in fascinating though very puzzling misconceptions. I have seen people insist that Evillene in The Wiz should be called "Elphaba" because it is the "official" name of the Wicked Witch of the West. I have seen people claiming to adapt the Wizard of Oz by Baum but really just doing adaptations of Wicked the musical, and not realizing they were using tons of stuff that were copyrighted by the musical creators and not in Baum's original novel. I have seen a lot of people claim that Baum intended Glinda to be called "Galinda" and that it is more correct to refer to Glinda by this name...
Yes, Wicked is its own continuity and branch of the large Oz family tree. Just like the MGM movie and its various adaptations. Just like Disney's Oz the Great and Powerful, or Return to Oz. Just like the Wiz. Just like Volkov's Tales of Magic Land (well... cough cough there's a bit of more unclear legal things down there but you know). Just like Tin Man or Emerald City. People should be aware that Oz is a LARGE franchise of many, MANY media.
But there is also a frightening amount of people who take literaly what Maguire wrote: "it is the real story of the Wicked Witch of the West", they take it literaly. Mind you this was more prominent in the 2000s and early 2010s - I think things got better recently because people are getting much more aware of the original books and of other alternate Oz media... But you know, at one point there was a need to point out "Hey guys, you know Maguire invented stuff, right? That he is basically parodying and twisting stuff and creating his own thing not in the public domain? Please stop saying Elphaba is public domain, she is not. This little wrinkled one-eyed hag is."
I've seen a lot of people lately harping about how "Wicked isn't canon to the Oz universe", "it's just glorified fanfiction", etc., and I can't express how silly that is, and how annoyed it makes me every time I hear it, lol. Baum's original Oz books were never meant to be some canonical series — they contradict each other constantly; Baum called it a "fairy story" with loose cohesion at best; and it only became a series at all because the first one got popular enough that Baum felt a duty to the fandom to keep making more (even after he had wanted to end it). And the 1939 film is every bit as much "fanfiction" as Wicked — it changes the story in both major and minor ways, including a complete shift of framing (i.e., making Oz into a dream rather than a real place).
Maguire's great contribution to the overarching legacy and lore of Oz was to harmonize the very weak "canon" of the older works with a different shift in framing: recontextualizing all of the prior Oz material as a revisionist history (going off of Baum's own idea framing of himself as a "Royal Historian of Oz"), and attempting to tell "the true story" behind the other works (fictively of course — we're never meant to literally think Maguire's version preceded Baum's, irl). In literary studies, this is called an urtext. The Wicked Years and its adaptations are as much "fanfiction" as the 1939 film: it's just self-aware of that fact in a way that earlier works weren't, and uses that perspective to deconstruct the material and explore deeper (and darker) themes — not simply adapting or reimagining the original text (as the 1939 movie did), but actively challenging it; interrogating it. It's not meant to be "canon" as such: it asks you to ask whether (and why) there is such a thing, and what that might say about the stories that we are meant to literally believe in, in real life.
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lvis44 · 3 days ago
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Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Y/N
Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited
Word Count: 5.3k+
Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?
Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!
As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!
**italics are a jump back in time**
The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.
“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.
“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.
“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”
Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”
You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.
“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.
“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.
You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.
“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.
“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.
“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”
You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.
“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”
“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.
“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.
“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.
“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.
“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”
Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.
You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.
You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before. 
You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful. 
“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.
“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.
“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”
“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.
“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.
“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.
They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.
“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.
“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.
“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.
“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms. 
“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.
“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.
“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.
He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.
You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.
“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.
“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”
You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.
“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.
“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.
When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.
“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.
Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.
“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.
“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.
You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.
“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance. 
“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.
“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.
You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.
“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise. 
“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.
He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”
“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.
“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.
You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once. 
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.
He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”
You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.
“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.
Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.
“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.
He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions. 
You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.
It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.
Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy. 
“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.
“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.
You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.
“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.
“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”
“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.
“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.
“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.
You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.
“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.
“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.
He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.
When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.
As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.
“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.
“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.
“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.
“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.
“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.
“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”
Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision. 
“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will. 
“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.
“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.
“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets. 
Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.
The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.
“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.
“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.
“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.
““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.
“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.
“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.
“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.
He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”
“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.
“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.
“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.
He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.
You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.
It finally feels like Christmas.
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clownstillwritesfanfic · 2 days ago
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I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader (REUPLOADED)
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PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭
Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 6,535
Warnings/Notes: plus size friendly, poc friendly, trans women friendly (except the bonus scene at the end), reader has a quirk
Disclaimer: This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.
Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.
———————————————————————
It was a Monday, few weeks after a majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.
The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.
“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.
“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.
“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.
“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”
There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”
A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”
“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”
Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.
“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.
“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.
“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”
Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”
Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”
“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.
“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.
Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.
Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.
You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.
Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.
“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.
“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.
Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.
“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.
Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”
“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.
“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.
“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.
“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.
You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.
You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.
“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.
You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.
“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.
———————————————————————
Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.
You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.
You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.
As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.
“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.
When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.
“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.
“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.
“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.
“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.
“You named it?” You asked.
“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.
Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.
“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”
———————————————————————
“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”
Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.
“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”
Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.
———————————————————————
The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?
You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.
You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.
You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.
You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.
Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.
It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.
———————————————————————
It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.
You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.
You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.
“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.
As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.
“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.
“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”
“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”
“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.
You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.
“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.
Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.
Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.
“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.
In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.
Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about
You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.
You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?
Bakugou scoffed.
Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.
You: never said you were <3 have fun lol
You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.
After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.
“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.
He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.
———————————————————————
Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.
He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.
“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.
“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.
“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.
“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.
Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?
“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.
“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.
“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.
“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”
“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.
“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.
“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.
“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.
“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.
You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.
“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.
“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.
“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.
———————————————————————
Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.
“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.
———————————————————————
Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.
Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.
You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.
“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.
“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.
“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.
“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.
Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.
He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.
———————————————————————
A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.
It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!
You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.
Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.
You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.
“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.
“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.
You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.
“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.
A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”
He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.
“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.
“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”
You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.
Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.
———————————————————————
Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.
When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.
“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.
There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.
You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.
At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.
———————————————————————
Bonus:
Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.
But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.
“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.
“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.
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revelboo · 1 day ago
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Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??
BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕
I love it so much
Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.
Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day
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Circuits and Wires Pt 10
Wheeljack x Reader
• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.
• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hands is, shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.
• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.
• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.
• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.
Previous
I am all motors and gadgets
Organically designed to last a finite length of time
Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round
I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound
I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain
I lack the proper behavior
My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out
The words that linger inside me
Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all
Don't even think you know the reason
Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all
Don't even try to understand
I am all circuits and wires
Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies
My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out
The words that linger inside me
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sleepynoons · 3 days ago
Text
AHHHH help i need someone to pick me off the floor and bring a mop over
hi it's me again sorry for existing in the same timeline as you
anyway sooooooo many wonderful perfect amazing show-stopping things about the finale
uh first of all, kudos for the perfect break between pt 1 and pt 2 - it's incredibly seamless, and it ties all the loose strings together, and really, the thing that stuck out to me about this whole story is simply how Cohesive it is. super hard to execute that as a writer, so really, really impressed by that.
onto more specifics.
first, i so appreciate the portrayal of reader as being very sexually active, and in my mind, hypersexual. i mentioned previously about how we don't really know the full story with suo, and that applies to reader as well. we don't really how reader grew up, what her likes/dislikes are (besides sex and bad sex, respectively), what family life was like before getting kicked out, etc. not sure what you had in mind, but there's a sense i have where i truly, truly believe reader is not actually a very reliable narrator!!! i think there's some avoidance!!! some dense and forgetful behavior that is meant to elucidate and confuse us as readers!!! and funnily enough, suo helps us gain clarity.
anyway, i think hypersexuality rep is important, in general. a big part of it isn't just feeling horny 24/7. there's some very real problems with low esteem/self-respect, feelings of disgust, internalized misogyny + objectification, and more. i think this fic also treads this balance very carefully, in that it recognizes that sex work is really just a means to get by, in the most neutral sense possible. it's not always glamorous, it's not always violent. as someone who's done a ton of research and activism in sex work, especially at the intersection of sex work + immigration, i really appreciated this rep.
in terms of reader and suo's relationship, this is really where i wanna dive into it. it's very clear i love them and i love them together, but it's not just their alikeness that makes them work. it's their shared history, their leniency + strict expectations for each other, and so much more.
the specific word choices and phrases really drive this through – "being gutted by suo" "mortified" "pavlovian response" and so many more
their banter is really the cherry on top as well.
also wanna emphasize this more - despite how romantic they are with each other (in their minds), they're also so sharp and judgmental – and i mean judgmental. lowkey kinda like asian parenting LOL like reader wants the best for suo, but now that suo's become a yakuza, that's a grudge she's keeping for the rest of her life. similarly, suo wants reader to stop fucking around and actually practice more self-control, but because she doesn't listen, he's gotta take matters into his own hands and edge the living shit out of her. sexual innuendos aside, literally asian love. like fine we'll deal with it if you don't listen but just know we're holding it over your head for the rest of your goddamn life LMFAO ik it's kinda toxic to other folks who may not have grown up in such an environment - and i'm not really gonna have an opinion on whether it's valid/justifiable or not -, but as someone who grew up with tiger parents + somehow managed to be somewhat emotionally close to them, this type of love is really smth i treasure a lot.
and i think that's the whole point of the fic, for me at least. reader and suo want to take care of each other. they want to cherish the time they have together. but at the same time, it's realistically impossible not to hurt your loved ones. i think it's so easy to say certain things are dealbreakers and to just walk away, but even irl, sometimes it's also just... hard to walk away. idk maybe i have a really convoluted sense of love and romanticism, but i am 100000% convinced love is difficult and honestly not really worth the payoff sometimes, yet reader and suo kinda don't even care if the payoff's worth it. like we'll hurt, we'll love, and we'll just see how it goes bc we just care that fucking much about each other. i wonder if they'd still choose to be tgt even if they knew they were making each other incredibly unhappy... bc they're each other's person ykwim.... anyway, some more food for thought for me... heheh
also,,, sex scene had me quaking,,, i totally read the tags and saw p*ssy inspection and wasn't shocked,,, totally was prepared,,, haha,,,, ha
anyway, sooo much love and thanks again, op. i may have gone off the rails, and thought or interpreted shit you didn't even think about or agree with. point is, haven't thought so much about a fic in so long, and i really was so enraptured with every word, every cadence, every paragraph. apologies for the brief spam in your inbox, but i really hope, no matter where you go, you keep writing. thank you so so so much, truly, for sharing this with us.
TOKYO VICE | part 2
“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)
12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!
part 1 here
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You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.
A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)
Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.
You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.
The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.
Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.
After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.
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One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.
“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”
To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.
A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.
A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.
Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.
You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.
While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.
You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.
“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.
“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”
“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”
“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”
Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.
You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.
“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.
Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.
Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.
You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.
If this continues, you might cum on the spot.
“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.
“Oh?”
“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”
He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”
“...”
Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.
“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”
“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”
Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.
As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.
With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.
You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.
“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.
You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?
This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.
Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.
Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.
In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.
You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.
“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”
He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.
“...no, I'm fine.”
“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”
As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.
Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.
“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”
“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”
Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.
“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”
“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”
You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.
“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”
You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.
You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”
“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”
Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”
His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.
You feel like you're being eaten alive.
Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.
You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.
In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.
“Stop that.”
Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”
Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”
This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.
He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”
His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.
“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”
“I just have one question.”
“Sure. Shoot.”
His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.
“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”
You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.
“Wh-what?”
Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”
For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.
“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.
“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”
You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”
“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”
You're mortified.
Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.
What a horrible man.
When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”
His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.
And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.
But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.
So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.
Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”
“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”
You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.
“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”
“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.
“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”
Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”
“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”
You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.
Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.
“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”
You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.
“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”
“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”
You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.
But you do feel like prey.
“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”
Fuck.
“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.
“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”
He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.
“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”
“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.
A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”
“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.
“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—
He stops.
Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.
“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”
He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”
You’re going to cry.
You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.
You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”
“Please, what?”
It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”
“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”
Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”
“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.
“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”
“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”
He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”
He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.
“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”
You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—
His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.
“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”
“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”
“Good.” He sounds so pleased.
You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.
You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.
“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”
“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”
Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.
The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.
You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.
“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.
“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”
You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.
“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.
You feel devastated.
Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”
This is the worst mistake you've ever made.
The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.
Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.
You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.
“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.
His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.
“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.
A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”
You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.
You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.
Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.
“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.
“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.
“Or?”
“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.
And when your master died.
“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”
“And?”
“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”
You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.
You love him so much it disgusts you.
You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.
“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”
He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.
But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.
“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” you say quietly.
“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”
You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.
“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.
“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”
It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.
But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.
Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.
“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.
“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”
Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”
He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”
He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.
“Suo,” you start.
“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”
Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”
He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”
You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.
“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”
“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.
Suo pauses.
“What?”
“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.
It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.
His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”
You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.
“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”
“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”
Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.
You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.
“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.
“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.
“Hayato.”
“Yes?”
“I need more,” you say quietly.
He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”
He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.
You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.
But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.
“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.
“Hayato,” you whine.
“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”
Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.
Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.
You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.
“Suo, wait—”
You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.
“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”
“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.
You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.
Her tray clatters to the floor.
Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.
“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”
“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.
Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.
“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.
“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.
Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”
You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”
“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”
“S-suo.”
“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”
He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.
“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.
“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”
“I…”
“You?”
“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”
He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.
Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.
“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”
You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”
Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”
“...what?”
“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”
“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”
“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”
“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”
“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”
“Hayato—”
“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”
“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”
“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”
“How would you even—ngh—know?”
“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”
You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.
You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.
He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”
Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.
He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”
Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.
His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.
You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”
“...”
With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.
“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”
He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”
You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.
You find out very quickly that it isn't.
You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.
But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.
Then he starts pushing into you.
“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”
“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”
Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.
It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”
It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.
“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.
He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.
You aren't going to complain.
You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.
You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.
He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.
Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.
When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.
“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.
Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”
“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.
Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.
“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”
You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.
“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.
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Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.
This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.
To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.
Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.
After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.
“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”
You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.
But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.
You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.
He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.
But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.
“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.
You stare at him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.
“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.
You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”
“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”
“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”
Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.
“Although?”
“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.
“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”
You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.
“Pardon?” he asks.
“...romantic, vanilla sex.”
Suo blinks. “What?”
Your face burns with humiliation.
“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.
Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”
“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”
You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.
But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.
“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.
You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.
You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.
Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.
“Sorry,” you say quickly.
“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”
You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.
“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”
“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”
“I’ll try to be better from now on.”
“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”
For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.
You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.
Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.
He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”
You almost stop breathing. Almost.
“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”
He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.
“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”
He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”
It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.
“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”
But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.
“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”
He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.
“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”
Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.
“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”
His voice gets even softer. Tender.
“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”
You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.
Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.
And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.
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END 'TOKYO VICE'
hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol
can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!
thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333
tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!
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hyperlexichypatia · 2 days ago
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It's not just about the word "sentient" -- most speculative fiction reads like it's written by someone who's never heard of animals, and once I notice this, I can never unnotice it.
So many fictional stories center on "What if there were these beings who were different from humans? Like aliens, or elves, or talking rabbits who wear clothes?" And yeah! I love stories like that!
But there are also literally millions of non-human species right here on Earth!
We just don't understand them. We want to think about "What if there were a species of life forms that weren't humans?" but we're so locked into our cholesterol-based human brains that we can't really imagine being one of these other species. So we either imagine other species in an anthropomorphic way ("What if a fox wore clothes and had a job and spoke English?") or imagine a completely fictional type of life form ("What if there were beings that were like humans, but they could live for hundreds of years or more, or they could read minds, or they could teleport, or?") and I, once again I must reiterate, I love stories like that.
But the appeal of these stories is that it's easier for us, as humans, to imagine and empathize with a robot, or an alien, or a mermaid, with human-like thought processes, than it is for us to imagine or empathize with an octopus, or a canary, or a beetle. Let alone a tree, or a lichen, or a mushroom. I find it so disappointing when a story featuring nonhuman beings just reifies the human/animal binary by reframing it as "higher creatures/lower creatures" or "sentient/non-sentient" or "intelligent/non-intelligent."
Usually when I mention this to people, their response is, "Okay, if 'sentient' is the wrong word, what word is better? Sapient? Intelligent?" and no. I'm not saying you're using the wrong vocabulary word with the wrong precise meaning. I'm saying you need to radically, fundamentally reexamine your base assumptions about the human/animal binary. You don't need to find a different word to express the assumption that non-human animals don't think, feel, communicate, learn, or solve problems; you need to actually start understanding that non-human animals do, in fact, think, feel, communicate, learn, and solve problems.
I only started thinking about the human/animal binary as an outgrowth of my interest in disability rights and youth rights, since so many of the purported things that make humans essentially different from "animals" are also things that exclude children and some disabled people. Oh, humans can talk and animals can't? So preverbal children and nonverbal disabled people aren't human?
Sometimes animal people invite this comparison themselves, saying things like "A dog is as intelligent as a 3 year old child." I mean, no, that's not true, a 3 year old human isn't as good at, say, scent tracking, as a dog of any age, but more fundamentally, a 3 year old human child is, in fact, human. And then some animal people like Peter Singer will actively spell out that a nonhuman animal should have more human rights than a disabled human child. The fact that "intelligence" is a concept always invoked in animal discussions, and that pet-keepers often self-identify as "parents," is proof that we can't seriously build the underpinnings of disability and youth liberation without problematizing the human/animal binary.
One time in a fandom group my partner pointed out that nonhuman animals are, in fact, sentient, and somebody responded sneeringly "You must be a vegan." Now, they're not a vegan (neither am I), but what a comeback. "You only acknowledge that animals have thoughts and feelings because you don't eat them!" My man, my dude, if acknowledging the reality that animals are thinking, feeling beings makes you feel weird about eating them, that's something you have to reconcile within yourself. You don't get to deny reality about it.
And ultimately, I do understand why stories about humans interacting with nonhumans tend to anthropomorphize the nonhumans -- because these stories are written by humans, read by humans, interpreted through the lens of human understanding. We really can't understand what it's like to be a frog or a salmon or a hippopotamus. I can't really know what it's like to feel the air change with my antennae, or process information through my octopus arm. That's our limitation. But I wish we would be more aware that we don't know what we don't know.
The best story I've read that really confronts the human/animal binary in all its existential absurdity is the Animal Man volume by Grant Morrison. Animal Man realizes that the human/animal binary is meaningless, becomes an eco-terrorist about it, has an existential crisis, realizes he's a fictional character in someone else's story, and confronts his creator. We're all God's creatures, and xe's fucking with us. Only logical reaction, really.
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careyakane · 2 days ago
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God, when I get home, it gets bad again.
I find myself speeding into town, pulled by the invisible threads of habit. I must remind myself again and again: “She does not wait for you as she did before.” I languish in familiar places, hoping for accidental meetings that might lead to long-overdue conversations, ones that might finally bring me the answers I’ve sought restlessly for years now. At nighttime, I squint as the last glimpse of a blonde head in a long black coat turns the corner. I stop myself from following, of course—but only at the last second.
I have come so far when I am back In the west. I think of you rarely and with thoughts far from possessive. I lay no claim on you when I am surrounded by all that I have found in that place and its people. But here, amongst the reminders and remnants, I succumb and fall back into that silent well of grief. I have found solace in these waters before, and I will again. It is false—I know, I know—but many comforts are false, so why can’t I give in for just a moment?
I am always holding my head so high, always protecting those who look to me for answers to questions beyond knowing. Time and time again, I give thin responses and watch as they drain every drop of that temporary relief. May I not, too, fall apart for a day? Give me my falsehoods, and sew cloth over my eyes and mind, which look to protest this comfort made in jest.
Now I sit parked where I should not be, trying to fill the carcasses of all the many simple nights that spilled over on this damn road under these damn streetlamps. I think of the boy who sat here three years ago and try to signal to him as best as I can. I have not a clue if time and its pulse work in this way, but yet in rare moments, I have felt as if something was pleading for me to shift, or to run, or to take account and rejoice. Maybe—and it would bring me great joy—every moment in some way exists eternally, and if I can only picture it clearly now, I may send a message back to myself in that given instance.
So here tonight, I simply ask he who I once was to hold her gaze just a second longer, to embrace her and hold her well as she tells him of the simple passings of the day. To tell her plainly and without hesitation that she is kind like no other, and that never in this lifetime will he forget these days of innocence.
Regardless of whether this door through life and time holds any truth, I attempt. And I must say, I have calmed down since beginning this writing. I truly am— for any who stumble upon this writing and may know me—happy to have continued on with my life. My momentary pauses in that past are not accurate pictures of where I stand now. Please forgive me if this makes you question what I am. I have set much down and would not betray you for any of it back. I simply enjoy writing and remembering. I’m sure you too will fall into my words with time.
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knavesflames · 9 hours ago
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Arlecchino’s Christmas Gift
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Hello omg sorry for not posting I’ve been crashing out in terms of physical health (yes yes, I’m sick again, yay me!!)
Anyway, a little Christmas present for you all. Apologies if the standard is not Normal, but it will be soon.
Word count: 1497
Contents: soft Arlecchino, bottom!Arlecchino, fingering
Nsft utc<3
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Christmas is a busy time for the House of the Hearth. With God knows how many children, Arlecchino works hard to make sure they all have a lovely day. Barbecues are out of the question, the snowflakes sticking to the ground a definite rejection of yet another barbecue. Instead, she opts for cooking a huge feast (or rather, you cook, she tells you to stop adding seasoning).
Watching the children eat and open the gifts she’s spent too much mora on, you can see that her eyes have softened significantly, even if her smile is small and barely there. “I don’t want gifts,” she’ll mutter when you ask her what she wants, she does it every year. “Gifts are unnecessary and superficial. The children receive them because they are children.”
You think she says this because she doesn’t know how to receive gifts. The House of the Hearth before was.. unkind, to say the least. The poor woman has been so busy, she’s barely had time to think about herself (you wonder if that’s the point), you know very well that the children are her priority, always. You, too. She’s made it abundantly clear multiple times to multiple times that it’s you and the children who come first.
When you see her sigh and wipe her forehead in slight frustration, you start to get an idea of what you can give her. Something she wouldn’t deem superficial, something she looks like she needs. And of course, when you excuse yourself early with the claim that you’re ’so tired’ and ‘the day has been exhausting’, she lets you leave with a soft kiss on your forehead and a murmur of affection. You don’t go to sleep, though, no. You wait until you hear the children leave the main dining hall and shuffle to their rooms to sleep before you start putting your plan in motion. You know she won’t go to bed for a little bit, she never does.
You waste no time in making yourself her gift. Putting on the lingerie you know she adores, dimming the lights and putting the small box of.. objects, by the bed, you position yourself comfortably. With clumsy movements, you manage to tie the ribbon around your wrists the way she’s done to you so many times. You admit it’s difficult, doing it with one working hand, but you get it done well enough. Then, what else is there to do but wait? The whole idea is for her to feel better and have whatever relief she desires, but you can’t help but feel excitement bubbling inside of you with every second that passes. She doesn’t feel good unless you feel good. That became obvious when she couldn’t cum until you were just as desperate as she was.
You let out a small breath when you finally hear her soft footsteps, and you’re trying to picture her reaction in your head. For some reason, you suddenly become nervous— what if she just wants to go to bed, or what if she just hates the idea? The ideas run through your head until—
“My dear?”
Your thoughts are cut short when your eyes snap to her. She looks a little shocked, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes scanning you, but she doesn’t seem repulsed or uninterested.
“Merry Christmas. You dislike gifts because they’re superficial, but I’m not, am I?”
Arlecchino swallows, her throat suddenly dry. You’ve always been the thing that gets her to react the most, both of you know that. Her words falter for a second before she manages to murmur.
“No, no you are not,” taking a step forward, then another, her hand reaching out to graze your skin gently. “Archons, look at you. You’re beautiful. All wrapped up, too.”
You smile sweetly at her, all worries dissipating at the look on her face. For someone as ruthless as her, she certainly softens up when you’re around, her touch gentle and her words quiet.
“How long did that take you? Wrapping oneself with one hand is a difficult task, no?”
“It took a while. Worth it to see your face. You can undo it if you want, or you can keep them like this.”
“Stay like that.”
“Okay.” Your own words are a whisper, and you continue to smile softly up at her. Her hands are delicate when they move over your skin, nails gently scratching in the places she knows makes you shiver.
“You wore my favourite.”
“For you.”
“You’re too good to me.” A breath, barely a whisper, but it’s heard nonetheless. It was only for you to hear anyway. She leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips until you return the kiss, letting her tongue meet yours with a soft sigh. You go to wrap your arms around her, before remembering that you have, in fact, tied yourself up. You think you feel her smile slightly into the kiss before her hand wraps firmly around your binded wrists.
Her kisses move downwards, sucking gently at the pulse point of your neck to feel you shiver. She seems to enjoy doing that, working you up only to make you wait. But, as promised, it’s her turn tonight, so you don’t complain. When she’s satisfied that your hands will stay in place and won’t struggle to get out of the ribbon restraints, her hand moves, fingers ghosting the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling it down. You help her, lifting your hips and stretching your legs so they’ll come off as quickly as possible. When they do come off, landing on the floor with a quiet noise, she leans on the bed, knee parting your legs.
Arlecchino grumbles when she realises she’s still fully clothed, and you think you see her hands trembling as she quickly fumbles to unbutton every single button she has and shed the fabric. She returns to her place soon after, her bare skin warmer than flames against yours. Her knee resumes its actions, pushing your legs apart until it meets your core, already aching. You gasp, and she relishes in the sound. She does the movement again before stopping. Digits move swiftly in finally unwrapping the ribbon around your wrists, tossing it to the side.
“I need you,” Arlecchino mutters, almost like she’s embarrassed. “I need you. Please.”
“How?” Although you enjoy occasionally being dominant, you can’t bring yourself to tonight. The poor woman has been so stressed, and this is her gift, after all.
“You know how.”
“Fingers or tongue, Peruere?”
She gasps at the usage of her actual name, her movements of her hands caressing each part of your body she can reach before she manages to speak.
“Fingers. Please.”
So, you waste no time in letting your own hand slip between her legs, moving until you find her clit. You give it a few experimental rubs, finding a rhythm she seems to enjoy before letting your lips land on her neck. You’d tease her for the quiet gasps she lets out, or for the way your fingers slide so easily into her, but you don’t think you have it in you, especially not when her hips start rocking into your hand with a rhythm so messy it’s almost pathetic, in an affectionate way. But she’s getting impatient and frustrated, and she can’t chase what she wants so badly with the rhythm she has.
You let her try for a bit longer, but the small whine that escapes her usually quiet mouth almost makes you feel bad. So, your free hand moves to her hip, gently stopping her before guiding her into a rhythm that causes all sounds to cease— only out of pure pleasure, her mouth hanging open and her eyes, usually so piercing, squeezed shut.
“It’s good?” You hum, struggling to contain the small giggle at the sight of her as needy as she is now.
“Quite.” Comes the only strained reply before her head buries back into your neck. She’s close, you can tell that much by the way she clenches around your curling fingers again and again.
“Are you going to cum for me, Peruere?”
“Yes, for you, yes.” She rasps out. It’s a struggle for her to get out any words at all by this point, and anything she does get out is less than coherent. Then her body tenses, she lets out a sound you know all too well— a mix of a grunt, groan and a whimper all in one, before she collapses onto you, her legs shaking.
You mumble sweet praises into her ear, stroking her now tousled hair until she regains her breath and stops trembling.
“Merry Christmas.” You chuckle, kissing her shoulder.
“That.. may have been the best gift I have ever had. My birthday is in August, if you’re curious.”
She’s being silly, you know that much, but you have one too many ideas to let them fizzle out now.
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