#i wish they wore socks
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myscultra · 1 year ago
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doodled team 7 swapping clothes woah :3
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gayvampyr · 2 months ago
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people have been noticing and complimenting my outfits lately and it makes me happy because i really do put a lot of thought into them. today my supervisor said “you’re always coordinated and you’re very good at it” like yay ❤️
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bugz4evr · 1 year ago
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Cunty lil fit found at goodwill
I ended up buying the shirt :)
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luveline · 7 months ago
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 
“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 
You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 
But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 
But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 
He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 
Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 
“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 
You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 
You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 
“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 
“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 
“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 
“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 
“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”
“No?” he asks. 
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  
“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 
“Everything was fine.” 
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 
“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” 
“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 
“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 
“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 
He waits. “And?” 
“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 
“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 
“What?” 
“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 
“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 
“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”
“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”
“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 
“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 
He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 
“Can I have my dinner first?” 
“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 
He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 
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norikuna · 17 days ago
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THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro
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welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !
prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.
want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !
pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)
warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)
word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams
a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩
mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!
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if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.
forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.
officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!
but did you care? not in the slightest.
you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.
the target in question? toji fushiguro.
your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.
months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.
yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.
but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.
your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.
right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.
you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.
she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.
and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.
your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.
toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.
not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.
you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.
and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.
not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.
but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.
so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.
fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.
except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.
still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.
the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.
your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.
"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.
and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.
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you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.
you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.
but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.
the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.
"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."
uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.
see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.
but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.
so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.
you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.
it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.
you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.
"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.
right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.
your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.
"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.
you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.
"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.
toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."
you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.
cute. almost.
you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.
every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.
"so, are you doing anything tonight?"
"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.
you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"
he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"
"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."
toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."
the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."
your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?
"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.
he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.
"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.
toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"
"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."
and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."
"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.
"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.
toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.
"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"
"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."
"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.
"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.
the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.
"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.
"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.
you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."
"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"
"i've been told."
tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."
time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."
toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."
you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."
"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.
"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."
you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."
"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.
"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."
"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.
back to the drawing board.
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toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?
his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.
what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?
he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.
"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.
"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."
shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.
"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.
and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.
still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.
what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.
tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.
what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.
civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?
"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.
"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."
she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"
"six. he's...not here tonight."
before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.
"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"
toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.
his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?
"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"
toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?
his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"
"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.
his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."
cute, yeah.
you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.
"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."
toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.
meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.
he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.
her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."
toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."
"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.
"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."
toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."
toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.
he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.
"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"
his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.
"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."
toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.
the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.
every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.
but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.
a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.
what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.
your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.
still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.
toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?
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you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.
half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.
he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.
you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.
with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.
you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.
with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.
you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.
perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?
you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.
but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.
you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.
"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."
there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.
your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."
each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —
"hey!"
and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.
"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."
toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.
the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.
you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?
you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.
"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.
toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.
you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."
toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.
you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"
you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."
toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."
"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.
"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.
"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"
"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.
"huh?"
"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.
you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."
"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.
"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."
"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."
toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."
something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"
you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.
it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.
you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.
"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.
toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.
"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"
you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.
you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"
you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.
"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."
"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.
"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"
you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"
your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.
"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."
he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.
that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.
his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."
"shut u-up."
"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.
his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.
his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.
"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.
"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.
you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.
and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.
"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.
you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.
"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"
toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."
he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —
"aaand, cum. now, doll."
it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.
you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"
you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"
toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."
you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"
he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"
you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."
"fuck."
in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.
and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.
"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"
that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.
he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.
you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.
toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.
you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.
and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.
but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!
"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.
rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.
toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.
"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.
"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"
each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"
you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."
"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.
"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.
"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.
your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.
your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.
he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.
you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"
"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"
"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."
it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."
and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.
"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."
toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.
"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.
in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.
before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.
ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.
damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.
toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.
"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"
toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"
693 notes · View notes
isak-dot-gov · 2 months ago
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Bubblegum Pink
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Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Girly girl!Reader
Word count: 1137
My Matherlist :)
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You and Rhea had always been an odd pairing, but one that worked. Her brooding, gothic style was the complete opposite of your sunny, feminine aesthetic, but it never caused any problems between the two of you. In fact, you both liked the contrast. She loved how unapologetically girly you were, while you found her dark and edgy vibe pretty hot. 
But now, with the release of the new Barbie movie, your worlds were about to collide in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
It all started when you saw the trailer. You’d grown up with Barbie, and seeing your childhood icon brought to life on the big screen filled you with pure joy. Naturally, you couldn’t wait to see it. Even more so, you couldn’t wait to share the experience with Rhea.
One night over dinner, as you twirled your fork through your salad, you casually brought it up. “So, the Barbie movie comes out this weekend. Want to come with me?”
Rhea, who had been chewing on a piece of steak, glanced up at you with raised eyebrows. “Barbie?” she repeated, her tone filled with playful disbelief.
You nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah! It’s going to be so much fun. I was thinking we could, like, dress up a little for it? You know, something pink and Barbie-like. What do you think?”
Rhea leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Pink and Barbie-like, huh?” Her dark lipstick accentuated her teasing smile. “Babe, I don’t really do… pink. Or Barbie.”
You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. You knew Rhea was right—dressing up in something so opposite of her usual style was a big ask. “I know, I know,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “It’s okay, I was just being silly. You don’t have to. We can just go as ourselves.”
But deep down, you’d been hoping she might at least entertain the idea. Not because you wanted her to change, but because it would’ve been fun to share this experience together, dressing up and embracing the moment.
The rest of the week passed without much mention of the movie. You noticed Rhea hadn’t brought it up again, and you didn’t want to press her about it either. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, what was important was that she was coming with you, not what she wore. Still, a tiny part of you couldn’t shake the wish that she might try, just a little, to embrace your world the way you always embraced hers.
The day of the movie finally arrived, and you woke up early, excited to get ready. You’d been planning your outfit for days—a dreamy, pink flowy dress with cute accessories, glittery heels, and even a sparkly headband to tie it all together. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection, feeling like you’d just stepped out of a Barbie dreamhouse.
But when you turned around to check your phone, your stomach twisted a little. Rhea hadn’t said anything yet, and you weren’t sure if she was going to dress up at all. Maybe you had been silly to even hope she would.
You tried not to let it get to you as you waited for her in the living room, adjusting your purse strap and fidgeting with your phone. When you finally heard her footsteps, you stood up, ready to go, but bracing yourself for her usual all-black attire.
As expected, Rhea came in wearing her typical style—black jeans, a black band tee, and combat boots. Her dark eyeliner and signature smirk were firmly in place. But something caught your eye, and you blinked, not sure if you were seeing things.
Pink socks.
They were subtle, barely peeking out from the tops of her boots, but they were there. Bright, unmistakable, bubblegum pink socks. You stared for a second, processing the sight, and then your heart swelled.
Rhea shifted on her feet, her smirk faltering just a little as she noticed your reaction. “Don’t say anything,” she grumbled, glancing away with a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “It’s just socks.”
You were speechless for a moment, but then a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. “Rhea…” you whispered, your voice soft with affection. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She shrugged, still trying to play it off. “I know, but I figured, you know, it’s important to you. And they’re just socks. Not like I’m wearing a pink dress or anything.”
Your chest tightened with emotion. It wasn’t about the socks—it was about the gesture. Rhea had seen how much this movie and dressing up meant to you, and while she didn’t go all out, she’d made an effort. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone for you, even if in a small way, and that meant everything.
You rushed forward and threw your arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you,” you murmured against her chest, your eyes stinging with happy tears. “This means more than you know.”
Rhea wrapped her arms around you, chuckling softly as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re lucky I love you,” she teased, though her voice was warm and tender.
You pulled back slightly, looking up at her with a playful grin. “I know I am.” You glanced down at her boots again, eyeing the pink socks with a twinkle in your eye. “And for the record, pink looks good on you.”
Rhea rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Don’t get used to it, alright?”
“Too late,” you teased back, leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek.
With her arm around your waist, the two of you headed out the door. As you walked hand in hand to the car, you couldn’t help but feel like this day was going to be even more special than you’d imagined. Rhea might not be covered head-to-toe in pink, but she’d met you halfway. She’d made the effort, and that was more than enough to make your heart burst with love.
As you drove to the theatre, Rhea glanced over at you, taking in how happy and radiant you looked. “Alright, so what’s this movie actually about? Are we gonna sit through two hours of Barbie just being… Barbie?”
You giggled. “Oh, you’ll see. There’s a lot more to Barbie than you think.”
Rhea smirked, giving your hand a squeeze as she rested her arm over the console. “As long as I get to see you happy, I’ll sit through whatever you want, babe.”
And just like that, with her pink socks slightly hidden under her boots, you knew you had the best girlfriend in the world by your side.
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cornsoupflavour · 7 months ago
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Sick Day (Twice NSFW Smut)
⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️
TWICE Momo Hirai x Manager!Male Reader
Tags: 3.8k words, wholesome, manager x idol, multiple creampies, power exchange, role switching, possible romance, caught in the act
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It was the day that the TWICE girls were supposed to visit an attraction together as part of a variety show, but your phone buzzed with a message from Jihyo, the leader of TWICE, the morning of the outing. Momo came down with a fever and was advised to rest. Being the group's manager, you acknowledged Jihyo's message and drove over to the hotel that they were staying in. Upon arriving, you climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, to reach Momo's floor. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.
Momo opened the door, her dark, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a white tee, sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Her face is flushed and glistening with perspiration. A steaming cup of tea sits on the bedside table.
"Morning, Momo. Heard you're not feeling too good so I brought you some snacks, some hot beverage packets and a few other things. How are you feeling?" you asked, walking in and closing the door behind you.
"Oh, thank you... I'm really sorry for all this... I wish I could've gone with everyone."
"Hey, we don't ask to get sick... okay, maybe sometimes, but I know this isn't one of those times. So don't worry about it, it's no trouble at all. Trust me, alright? Let's get you all nice and well rested," you helped her to the bed, tucking her in while placing the back of your hand on her forehead to check her body temperature.
She frowned, her lips pouting a little as she spoke, "It's still pretty high, isn't it? I miss everyone already..."
"I'm sure they miss you too, but they'd want you to get better too. I'll make sure they take lots of pictures so you can have a feel of what it was like there. For now, just lay back on your pillow and I'll go make you some hot chocolate and something small to eat."
Momo nods, her eyes closing as she laid back. You set up a small table for her before heading to the kitchen, fixing her up a small meal along with a glass of warm water. You brought it over and placed it on the table with a bottle of vitamins. "Here you go, eat up, you need to eat if you wanna get better."
She sat up, and turned on the television to keep herself occupied as she ate. As she began eating, your eyes drifted to a stack of unread magazines. You picked one up and flipped through it, stopping at a page where Momo is being interviewed. She's smiling, her eyes bright, you can't help but feel bad for how she's feeling right now.
Momo looks away from the television, her gaze fixing on you, "Thank you. This is perfect."
"I'm glad you like it, when you're done, let me know. I'll come and clear the table for you and you can have your rest."
"Thank you again..." her voice damp and slightly hoarse as she leaned back from the table, allowing you to clear the dishes, "...I promise I'll make it up to you and everyone else next time." She sniffled, her nose red from her flu. You began clearing her table, bringing the dishes to the sink and washing them.
"What did I say? I told you not to worry about it. We all have our off days and it appears that today is yours. No shame in that, so just focus on getting better, alright?"
Momo smiled as she tucked herself further under the covers, her gaze momentarily locking with yours. You gave her a warm smile before planting yourself in the recliner, staying close by if she needed anything else. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.
A few hours later, you groggily stretched your arms as your eyes peeled open, feeling stiff from your position in the recliner. "Oh, shit– I fell asleep–" You glanced over at Momo, now nowhere to be seen, and your heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through you, and you're about to call her name when you spotted a note on the bedside table.
Your breath hitched, and you let out a sigh of relief as you read the contents of the note.
I'm feeling a little better, so I thought I'd go to the pool to cool down. Please don't worry. I'll be back soon. Thank you for everything. –Momo
You gave your face a quick wash in the bathroom to freshen up before deciding to head down to the pool to find her. As you take a step out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, you're greeted by the soothing sounds of water cascading from a nearby fountain. You walked towards the glass doors that lead to the outdoor pool area, the sun hitting your skin, and you squinted as you surveyed the area.
In the distance, you spot Momo, her curvy form in the pool, the water reflecting the rays of the evening sun, her hair spread out like a fan around her. She was backfloating in a soft pink bikini. That sure is one way to cool off from a fever. She had a pair of red–lensed clear sunglasses as she floated.
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You watched longingly as you slowly approached her, subtly admiring her figure. "Water's nice, huh? Enjoying the sun?" you asked, teasingly. She swam towards you upon hearing your voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she rested her arms and chin on the edge of the pool. "Hey, nice to see you're feeling better."
"Yeah, looks like I just needed some hot cocoa, a good rest and some care and concern from my favourite manager to help me feel better~"
"Yeah, yeah... you're my favourite too..."
"Huh? What was that?"
"I said you're all my favourites too," you answered, smirking a little.
You take a seat on a nearby poolside chair as you watch Momo try to get out. Your cheeks blush ever so slightly as you're presented with her assets, glistening from the water. Momo extended her hand out, requesting for you to pull her up, but upon grabbing her hand, she pulled you in, laughing excitedly.
Momo continued to giggle excitedly as you float next to her, splashing water at her. "You're so lucky I put my phone down before reaching out–"
After a little bit of playful splashing, you both climbed out of the pool. As you pulled yourself up, your suit and tie absolutely soaked, your gaze landed on Momo, her body glistening from the water, her assets shaking graciously with every movement. Your cheeks turned a soft red as you looked away, handing her a towel. She grabbed it and proceeded to wrap it around herself. "Much better, thank you. The water feels great, it helped cool my fever down. I'm feeling more refreshed now."
You nod, smiling, "That's great to hear. Now, let's get back to your room to get dried up. I'll  check your temperature again too, just to make sure."
Momo nodded, her eyes bright, "Alright, Mr. Manager~" she giggled, leaning into your side.
Before you both start walking, she shook her head, trying to get the excess water out of her  hair. As you watched, it felt as if the world disappeared and you were watching her in slow–motion.
"Shall we?" her voice snapped you back to reality. You blinked a few times, setting yourself back into the real world as you nodded, "Yeah, let's go."
As you walked, you threw on your own towel to cover your wet clothes. After a while, the two of you arrived back at the room. Upon entering, you head straight for the shower to get yourself out of your wet clothes. Once done, you threw on a bathrobe and stepped back out. Momo turned around, drying her hair with the towel.
She smiled as she walked towards you. You returned her smile, glad to see her in better spirits. "You can go and freshen up if you'd like, I'll go grab the thermometer."
"Thank you, thank you, but it's okay, I could stay like this for a while," her grateful smile tugging at your heartstrings as she stated, glancing down at herself in her pink bikini and towel. "Feels nice~"
"Alright then, at least go and dry your hair, don't want you getting sick again."
"Well, at least now if I do, I know you'll come and take care of me~" she teased before proceeding to dry her hair. You headed over to your bag and pulled out a thermometer for her to use. As she stuck the thermometer under her tongue, you placed the back of your hand on her forehead once more.
"Seems alright..."
She showed you the reading and it showed her temperature being back to normal. "Wow, looks like you're alright. I shall take my leave now, the girls should be back in a few more hours."
Momo fiddled with her towel, her gaze moving to the door, "Um, can you stay a bit longer? I'd feel more comfortable with you around, you know, just in case..." she trailed off, her voice a little shy.
You hummed, glancing back at her. "Of course, I could stay till the others get back. I'll just head to the mall downstairs to grab some new clothes. You wanna come with?"
She flashed a grateful smile, "Thank you, I appreciate it... Sure, just let me change into something less revealing. Wouldn't want to give fans a free show~" she added before grabbing some clothes and walking into the bathroom. After a while, she came out and followed you down to buy some clothes. About half an hour later, you're both back in the room.
You tossed your wet clothes into the wash, already changed into a fresh set of clothes. You took a seat next to Momo on the bed. "So, any plans on how you want to spend your 'sick leave'? Y'know, besides swimming in the pool. Or do you want to just relax and rest some more?"
Momo shrugs, her eyes drifting to the television, "I guess I'll just chill here and watch some TV... My phone's dead, so I'll be a little disconnected from the world today–" she smirked, "Not that I'm complaining," she added, her eyes meeting yours.
You chuckled, "Sounds like a plan. If you need anything, let me know."
Momo's eyes flicked back to the door, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she spoke, "Actually, there is something I need from you... I need to make sure you're not just a good manager, but a good friend as well."
Her smile grew as she stood up, swaying her hips a little as she came closer to you. Momo then straddled your lap, her body pressed against yours. She lifted her shirt to reveal her pink bikini top. She tilted her head, her hair cascading around her face, "Is there something I can get you in return, Mr. Manager? I know you like this top of mine~"
You stared, somewhat in disbelief, at the situation you're currently in. You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you gulped before responding, "Umm, I don't know, I'm not really in a position to ask for anything, but if you insist..."
Momo leaned in, her lips grazing your earlobe as she whispered, "Just be a good boy for me, and I'll make sure you won't regret it."
You nodded, a smirk appearing on your lips, along with a smug look. As she pulled back, her hands landed on your chest, gripping your shirt. She began to gently tug, her eyes locked onto yours. "You really are a good friend, aren't you?"
You responded with a flirtatious confidence, "Yes, I am~" you answered, knowing where this was headed. Momo then pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. She trailed her fingers down your chest, her touch feather–light. You let out a soft hum at her touch. "Mmh, so strong..."
With her hands now on your abs, she leaned in, her lips just millimeters away from yours. Her breath was warm, her scent enveloping you. "Now, let's see if I can make you even stronger," she whispered, her lips brushing against yours. As she pulled back, her hands moved to the strings of her bikini top.
You grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her take the top off, "No. Leave it on... I like the way it looks on you..." She blinked with a mix of confusion and desire. She brought your hand to the center of her top, hooking your thumb on it as she slowly slipped it upwards, dragging the top with it.
"We could leave it like this, not on, not off~" she whispered, revealing her perky breasts, topped by dark pink nipples. Her eyes never strayed from yours, her mouth curving into a seductive smile.
You licked your lips, your hands reached out, tentatively, to cupping her breasts. She let out a soft, satisfied moan, arching into your touch. "Ungh, there you go, don't be shy."
You gave in, your hands massaging her breasts, kneading them, feeling her nipples harden beneath your fingers. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she leaned in, her lips capturing yours. She tasted sweet, her tongue dancing with yours as she gripped your hair, her hips rocking against yours.
Momo broke the kiss, her breaths shallow as she leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "I thought you could use a little distraction, Mr. Manager. You're doing well," she praised, her hand drifting down to the growing hardness between your legs.
You brought your lips to her neck, your head swam against it, planting kisses along her jawline. "Of course, you're my favourite distraction~ Don't tell the others I said that..." you joked but her touch and actions had you on edge. "You really are something aren't you, Momo?" 
You continued to kiss down her neck, your breath warm against her skin. Momo smirked, leaning in to nibble on your earlobe as she grazed your length through your pants.
You let out a soft whimper against her neck. You gripped her hips tightly, knowing this was crossing boundaries, but you couldn't resist her. "Mmff, Momo... So eager..."
Momo sat up, her eyes bright as she pulled down your pants, just enough to release your arousal. She licked her lips, her gaze never leaving yours, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'm just happy you're here for me."
You bit your lip, a smirk forming on the corners. Momo wiggled and shifted in your lap. She spread her legs slightly, inviting you to join her. You obliged, Momo's siren call was too strong. You raised her up slightly by her hips, lining her slit with the tip of your length.
Momo leaned forward as she lowered herself onto your member, her hands gripping your shoulders as she connected her lips with yours. As you entered her, a small moan leaked into your kiss. You slowly thrust up into her, her moans filling the room, as she set the pace.
You gripped her hips, your thrusts growing faster and more forceful. "Ahh, goddamn... you feel good, Momo," you panted, your voice rough. "You're so tight, so wet..."
Momo let out a soft, breathy moan, "Ooh, just like that... Nnngh~ You're not so bad, Mr. Manager."
You increased your pace, the sounds of slapping flesh filling the room with every thrust. You gripped her tighter, your lips pressing against her neck, your breath hot against her skin. "Mmh, you feel so good," you groaned, your grip tightening.
Momo's moans grew louder, her body arching towards yours as she grinded herself to meet your thrusts, her body quivering. "Ungh, yeah, don't stop, you're making me feel so good," she panted. The pleasure was building, each thrust bringing even louder moans to the pairing.
You slammed into her, gripping her hips, your thrusts growing more intense, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping together. Momo's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her nails digging into your shoulders. "Mmf, yeah, Mr. Manager~ so good... I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," she cried out.
You let out a low growl, your thrusts getting harder, "Cum for me, Momo, cum on my cock. I bet you'll look so good while you do it," you encourage.
Momo's hips bucked against yours, her body shuddering as her climax took over, her pussy tightening around you. "Ahh, daddy, yesss, I'm cumming~" she screamed out, her body trembling, her release shaking her.
Your own climax was nearing, your thrusts frenzied, "Goddamn– you're so fucking good, Momo. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too–" you groaned, your release taking you over the edge, exploding deep inside her.
Momo leaned forward, her chest pressing against your own, her breathing quick and heavy. You both enjoyed the afterglow for a while, her body still quivering, her pussy milking you softly.
You leaned down, bringing her breast to your lips, your tongue swirling around her nipple, gently pulling on it with your teeth. "Mmh, you taste so fucking good..." your voice thick with satisfaction.
Momo let out a soft, contented sigh, "Thank you, daddy, that felt so good... I can't believe I'm calling you daddy, but it feels right~"
You chuckled, giving her a tender kiss on the lips, "Well, you're my favourite, so anything goes, right?"
Momo smiled, her body still clinging to your length, "Right... My favourite Mr. Manager~"
"But I'm not done. You think with a cock like yours that I'll just hope off after one ride? You're in for a real good time~ Let me give you a 'thank you' gift for being such a good manager for us~"
You smirked, "I'll do my best to keep up with you, Momo, don't worry."
Momo grinned, her hands guiding you to lay down on your back. She raised her ass and leaned forward, her breasts pressing against your chest. She wrapped her arms around your head, hugging you into her cleavage. "This is how a good manager should be, right here, in the cradle of his favourite Momo's tits," she purred.
You chuckled, your hands gripping her hips, "So bossy, Momo, but that's what I like about you."
Momo's eyes locked onto yours, a lustful intensity in her gaze that mirrored the hunger in her soul. Her hips shifted, ever so slightly, before she began to lower herself back onto you, her lips parting in a soft moan. Inch by agonizing inch, she descended, her wetness enveloping your hardness.
Your breath hitched, your fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as she sank upon you, her pussy tightening around your length. Her breasts squished against your face, swelling slightly with each tantalizing inch. Your eyes followed the descent, drinking in her sensuality, the way her nipples hardened, the way her throat arched, the way her lips quivered in a mixture of pleasure and exertion.
Once fully impaled, Momo traced a finger along your jawline, a wolfish grin curling her lips. She began to rise, her hips grinding against yours, the head of your cock dragging against her swollen folds. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, her moans adding to the crescendo of desire.
"Mmf, daddy– My Mr. Manager~" she panted, her eyes never leaving yours, "Make me feel good." The challenge hung between you, a promise of the submission she so eagerly gave.
You gripped her hips tighter, your own arousal building. "Just like that, Momo," you encouraged, your voice deep, hungry. "Give me everything you've got."
Momo's pace quickened, her breasts pressing onto your face, punctuating her movements. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into your shoulders, her hips rolling, her body swimming against yours. The room trembled with the intensity of the rhythm.
She continued to grind herself onto you, going from quickly to slowly, her eyes locked on yours. Her body came down on your length, her pussy swallowing you whole. She rose and fell, her tits engulfed the bottom half of your face with every movement, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mmf, yeah, daddy, make me feel good," she moaned.
You gripped her hips, your body arching up to meet her, "Just like that, Momo... I'm all yours–" you encouraged her, your voice thick with lust.
Momo let out a soft, satisfied moan, "I'll show you just how you're all mine~ Don't you dare cum without my permission, Mr. Manager," she warned, her tone playful.
You chuckled, your hips bucking up to meet her, "I wouldn't dare, Momo... But when you do let me cum, it's going to be explosive– I will flood you–" you promised, the lust apparent in your voice.
Your grip on Momo tightened, your hips bucking, matching the pace as her body rocked against yours. Her moans grew louder, resonating in the room, filling it with the sounds of pleasure. "Ungh, Mr. Manager, you're getting me so close... I can't hold it," she panted, her voice thick with lust. "Mmf, daddy, you feel so good, I'm close... So close..."
You groaned, your body arching to meet her thrusts, your voice growing hoarse, "Let go for me, Momo, let your juices coat my cock," you encouraged her, feeling your own climax nearing. From beneath her soft yet firm breasts, you took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on them as her movements became more erratic.
Momo's body shuddered, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. "Ahh, Mr. Manager, I'm cumming~" she cried out, her pussy clenching around you, milking you with each spasm. Her moans echoed in the room as her release washed over her.
Feeling her orgasm, you too couldn't hold back, your release pulsing deep inside her. You let out a low growl, your hips bucking up one last time, "Fuck, Momo, that's it, cum for me," you groaned, your release flooding her depths.
Momo collapsed onto you, her body shuddering, her grip on you not letting go. She rested her head on your shoulder, her breathing heavy, "Wow, I don't think I've ever felt so good, that was intense... I think I should get sick more often... what do you think, Mr. Manager? Or do you prefer... daddy~?" she whispered, a satisfied and cheeky smile on her lips, her body still quivering from her climax.
You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her, your chest rising and falling in unison with hers, "Whichever you like better, Momo... But just wait until the next time, I have a feeling we'll be testing just how much we can handle," you teased, your voice laced with confidence and promise. You peaked from between her mounds and leaned up for a deep, passionate kiss. As Momo reciprocated, her body twitched at your slowly softening cock. Just as you both broke the kiss, a strand of saliva still connecting you two, the room door opened, to the excited chatter and banter from the other TWICE girls.
Both parties turned to look at one another, all their mouths agape.
"Hey, girls... back so soon...?"
[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]
[ Sick Day Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]
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b3ach-bunn7 · 6 months ago
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IS IT CASUAL NOW? PT 2
The aftermath of you finally ending things with Touya.
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It’s hot. So hot that it’s all Touya can think about.
Touya sighs. He can lie so easily, but unfortunately never to himself. He’s not wearing a shirt, just the thinnest pair of shorts he owns. The rickety fan he’d stolen from his dad’s place is pissing him off more than it’s cooling him down. The Todoroki’s all ran hot, Touya the worst. It was a curse passed down from his father and Touya just loved how alike the two of them were. In the winter he wore a hoodie at best, and in the summer he melted. It’s why he found himself in your bedroom on the night/ he couldn’t sleep. You were so cool, your bedroom so still. It’s the only reason he did it. It was nothing to do with you.
Lying again. Touya wishes he could just erase you from his brain sometimes. Cut out the last two years of his life, forget all of it. Because that’s when it started. Not when he met you, but when he started feeling. It’s why he proposed the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing. Too scared to own up to anything but separate enough he’d do anything to get the chance to touch you. He thinks forgetting might be easier than admitting he has feelings for you. But you’ve embedded yourself in everything. He thinks if he slips far enough in his duvet he’ll smell you, that sweet perfume that drives him crazy. There’s a sock too girly and pink to be his on the floor. Pictures of you he hasn’t hung up but burn holes in the bottom of his closet. And Shoto’s incessant nagging to see you again.
It’s been two weeks and three days since he’s last seen you. Touya doesn’t think he’s gotten a good nights sleep since. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the bags under his eyes and the ache of his bones, Shoto is determined to remind him every second of every day. Asking where she is, why isn’t she coming over anymore, how did he ruin it. It’s beyond him how a six year old can read the room so well but that’s besides the point.
You were good with Shoto, though. He remembers the first time you’d met him. He’d walked in on you throwing him in the air and the brat was laughing. He barely did that with him, let alone with a stranger he’d never met. And it stirred something in him. Like maybe one day he could have that with you. A little kid that looks like him, or has that same smile as you. So bright he can’t even look at you for too long.
Touya sits up abruptly. Maybe a cold shower will help. He saunters to the bathroom and raps on the door.
“Occupied!” Fuyumi’s voice rings out. He hears the rush of water and he curses under his breath.
“Hurry up.”
“Shut up, I haven’t even started yet.”
Fuyumi took ages in the shower. All girls did and he had no idea why. You took forever. He could hear you singing sometimes. You didn’t sound the best but you were enjoying yourself. At least when you were taking ages he could join you. That’s when Touya found you the most attractive. Water running down your back, hair slicked back. He loved it the most when you used his shampoo, when you smelt like him. He could close his eyes and pretend for a moment you were somewhere else, just the two of you. That you were together.
He can’t help it. Touya can try to distract himself but it all ends up with you.
Your face. Tears rolling down them, ones he put there. He wanted to comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t think you were just somebody he fucked. It killed a little part of him to say that to you because he could see how much it hurt you. Physically see something inside you change and the tears that had been welling in your eyes finally falling. The way you’d stormed out. The fact you’d removed him from everything, every social media, even Spotify. His message pinging back the one time he tried to text you. The fact you’d called him Todoroki.
The issue is, Touya is cursed. It’s right there in his last name. Todoroki. You knew, of course. You knew all about his father. He’d sat you down once in the back of his car. Each of you with your backs against the window, a pack of gummy bears split open in front of you. And he showed you. Showed you each scar that his father had left at his hands. And then after that, Touya had told you everything. About his mother. About how he treated her. How he hit her, yelled at her. Made her cry like he’d made you cry.
That’s the harsh reality Touya has to face.Because unfortunately for him, he’d spent most of his life with his father. Thirteen long years with him, more than enough time to pick up all those horrible traits the man harboured. Touya was always the most like him. Short temper, quick to argue. And he’d read about it, too. Poured over psychology books and articles when the worries got too bad. Your childhood is where your character was built apparently, where your habits were learnt. Where you’re moulded into the person you’ll grow up to be, all based on the way your parents raised you. And it didn’t take a genius to realise his hadn’t been that good.
And if all that he’d seen was true, then Touya couldn’t do that to you. Couldn’t be his father. You were so perfect. You were way too good for him, for all the shit he’d bring you. You didn’t deserve to put up with that. And he knew you wouldn’t listen if he told you that so he had to get rid of you the only way he knew how.
But god, did he indulge in it. In you. Touya didn’t think you’d notice, that it was that obvious. How he couldn’t help but kiss you so tenderly. How he’d hold you any chance he got, had acted bothered when you got along so well with his family. Touya wasn't strong enough not to enjoy you while he had you.
He decides to go downstairs. The house feels stagnant. The windows are open and the curtains his mother had fashioned out of old clothes fluttered in the little wind that blew in from outside. The house was so much smaller than their old one but Touya felt like he could breathe here. It was crazy how much different life was without his father. How free they felt, the weight on his family’s shoulders gone.
His mothers in the kitchen. She’s making bread, he thinks, judging by the flour dusted all over the kitchen. They’re allowed to leave messes like this now. Touya opens the fridge, eyes closing at the cold air that blasts in his face. He grabs a coke. The can cools his palms and he’s half tempted to use it as an ice pack.
“Touya, come help me for a second.” His mother says. He glances over at her. Her hands are white with flour and she points to the bag of it beside her.
“Pour some for me.” Touya sighs, slightly, but listens. He turns to leave once she’s done but she stops him.
“Stay for a bit. Keep your mother company.” She pouts. Touya sighs. This time loudly. He sits down regardless. He takes another drink and the coke tastes like you, the two of you arguing, and he leaves it to the side.
“How have you been, Touya?”
“Fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice isn’t stern but it has that mother tone to it that Touya, even at eighteen, can’t compete with.
“What do you want me to say?” He snaps. She doesn’t answer. Just point/ again.
“More flour please.” Touya pours more. He puts the bag down with a little more force than necessary.
“I’m your mum, Touya. I know when you’re not okay. And I’ve also noticed much less of Y/N around the house.”
Touya shakes his head. “This- it’s nothing to do with her.”
“So there is something wrong?” His mother is smiling slightly, proud of herself.
“Wow. So intuitive, mum.”
She sighs. She dusts off her hands on her apron. As annoying as she’s being, Touya can’t help but love it. It was rare she spoke much when his father was around and he finally feels like he’s learning who she is now that he’s gone.
“You two break up?”
“We were never together.”
His mother perks an eyebrow. “Really? In my day, two people hooking up were considered together.”
“Ew- Mum!” He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t- that’s disgusting.”
“I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Well, it’s over. We- She ended things.”
She furrows her brows. “Well that’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
His mum hums. “Well. She loves you. Why would she end things if she loves you?”
Touya’s eyes are fixed on the table. He shakes his head. “No. She doesn’t love me.”
“She does.”
“Well, she shouldn’t!” He stands up. Runs a hand through his hair and it feels like yours, and he pulls it back like he’s burnt.
His mother is calm. Just watching him. “And why not?”
“Because- because. You know why, mum.” His voice sounds so weak. So pathetic. If only his father could see him now.
“I don’t. Tell me.”
“I-I can’t do it to her, mum. It’s not fair on her.” Touya says.
“But why?”
“Because why if I’m like him?”
His voice cracks, splinters his words in half. His mum looks at him then, like she might cry. There’s something in her face he can’t decipher but it’s out there. He’s said it, the thing that keeps him up at night, that eats at him.
“Honey, you’re not like him.”
“But what if I am?” So pathetic. He feels the prickle of tears and he hates how easily he cries, always has, ever since he was a kid.
“We don’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship, not a real one. What if- what if I was with her and I hurt her. Like he hurt you. I can’t do that to her, mum.”
She storms forward then. Her hands, still floury, grasp his shoulders. Touya should protest but he doesn’t, not when her touch grounds him. It always has.
“You listen to me, you are not your father.”
“What if I am? I’m the most like him, we all know it.”
She shakes her head. “No, honey, you’re not. I spent 15 years with that man. And you are nothing like him. You’re kind and you care for me and your siblings. For the people you love. He never did. And your anger, it’s superficial. You’d never hurt anyone. I know you wouldn’t.”
Touya doesn’t say anything. Just listens.
“Don’t let him ruin your life. I should’ve left sooner, for you. For all of your siblings.”
“Don’t blame yourself, mum.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s no longer here, honey. Don’t let him ruin your life even when he’s not in it.”
Touya breathes in shakily. Wipes at his face furiously. “Okay.”
She rubs his shoulder. Smiles, something bittersweet. “Good boy. Now go talk to Y/N.”
Touya nods. “Okay.”
“And put a shirt on before you go.” He watches his mum's eyes linger on the scars across his body. She turns away and so does he.
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
—————
You hate romcoms. Such stupid awful movies, you think.
Your friends had been over earlier in the day but you wanted to be alone. You’re trying to distract yourself by watching your favourite movies, eating shitty snacks. The issue is, all your favourite movies are about love. Perfect, sappy romances that end with kiss and sex in someone’s bedroom. You hate it. It’s doing nothing but reminding you of him.
Scum. Awful. Horrible. You hope that maybe if you call him enough names in your head you’ll get over him. Or maybe if you eat enough chocolate. At least Noah Centineo looks good in this movie. His peak, you like to think.
A knock at the door stirs you out of your thoughts. You were going to ignore it, but the knocking gets more frantic, and you swear, pushing through the pile of tissues you were sitting in.
“Alright, I’m coming.”
You don't bother cleaning yourself up. You couldn’t care less who’s on the other side of the door.
“You can chill out, okay, the door is not going any-“
Touya. Touya is standing at your door. While you look like absolute shit. But you don’t care. You shouldn’t care. Touya looks worse. His hair is all tussled and you know he’s been messing with it. He always does when he’s bothered by something. His eyes are a little red and you think he may have been crying.
“Fuck off.” You go to slam the door in his face but he puts an arm out.
“Please, wait. Can we talk?”
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood to fuck you. And that’s all I’m for, right?” You smile viciously, and push against the door. He won’t let it go though.
“Y/N, I was wrong. Just let me explain, and-“
“Explain what?” You fling the door open and he falls back slightly.
“Explain what, Touya? It’s been two weeks, and now you want to explain?”
He swallows. “I should’ve come sooner.”
“Yeah, you should’ve.”
“I was wrong. About everything.” He pleads, inching closer to the door.
You breathe heavily. You rub your eyes furiously and start walking away.
“Come on then.” You snap.
Touya obeys. He walks in quickly before you can change your mind. You sit down on the couch and he sits next to you. It’s silent for a moment. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do, you’ll forgive him in a second.
“You home alone?” He asks.
You pick at your cuticles. A bad habit you can’t crack. “Yes.”
You think Touya nods. You don’t want to look and check. You pull too hard and one of them starts bleeding.
“Don’t do that.” He says softly, pushing your hands apart. His skin is warm and you pull your hands into your lap. You shake your head.
“What do you want?”
“I love you.”
Touya speaks the words quickly. Like you did before, like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out. You do look at him then, and he’s already looking at you. Eyes wide, so blue and searching you think he might be looking into your soul.
“You- You what?” Your voice almost comes out in a whisper.
“I love you. I always did. You were right, you’re not just somebody I fuck. I-i didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” His voice cracks.
“Then- Why did you say all that stuff then? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
The two of you turn, move closer to cover. You don’t even notice, not until his knees are touching yours and that cologne he always uses, woodsy and cool, tingles your senses.
“I was scared. I am scared. I’ve never done this before, Y/N.” He looks down for a second. Looks back up at you.
“I was scared that. That I'd be like my father. End up as cruel as he was. I couldn’t put you through that.”
And it makes sense then. Slowly you piece it all together. Why he sent you such mixed signals. Why he was so distant with you and yet so close, always one step from taking things too far.
“Oh, Touya.” You grab his hand, and it’s warm. It always is.
“I know it’s stupid. But I watched him torment my mother for 13 years. And. What if I was like him? I couldn’t deal with it. It drove me crazy. Every time I got close to you, I’d freak out and I’d pull back.”
You squeeze his hand and he grabs it with both of his, squeezing back.
“I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said, none of it. I swear.”
You breathe shakily. “You didn’t?”
“Of course I didn’t. I love you. That I mean.”
You stare at him. Part of you whispers that you shouldn’t trust him. A small part of you that’s still angry he let you wallow for two long weeks with no effort, no contact. But the rest of you. The rest of you is looking at Touya. Who has tears threatening to fall if he blinks just once more, who’s hands are shaking in your own. Touya, who told you everything, had cut himself open and shown you every part of himself he’d hidden from the world. And despite how angry you are, were, you can’t deny that.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me straight away. I understand, I said some really shitty things to you. But fuck, please. Give me a chance to fix this.” He whispers.
Before you can even think you press your lips to his. His hand, soft and calculated, reaches up to cup your cheek and it spurs you into action. You practically fall on him, one hand grabbing his shirt and the other carding through his hair. Oh, and it’s as soft as you remember, white curls tangling in your fingers as you sigh into his mouth. You're straddling his lap now and his back presses against your couch. Touya makes a noise, then, something desperate. He breaks apart and the two of you are breathless. He stares at you for a second before his lips are kissing your jaw, down your neck. He sucks a mark on the spot between your neck and your shoulder and you shiver.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I missed you so much.” He whispers into your skin.
You laugh slightly, and pull him away. “Easy, Touya. I don’t forgive you that much.”
He looks hopeful, despite the blatant rejection of his advances. “So you forgive me?”
You hum, fingers tracing over his skin. “Yeah. I do. Just because I miss Shoto, though.”
He snorts. Places a kiss on your forehead, your cheek. “Good. The little brat won’t shut up asking about you.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so excited. I saw you first.”
You giggle, falling besides him. You lean into his arm, one leg tangling with his. It’s so simple, so easy to fall into the same routine. You think you should maybe be madder, but you can’t. Not at Touya. You think of the faces of your friends from earlier today and you wince.
“Look, I forgave you pretty easy, but you’re gonna have to put some in work with my friends. You can’t just kiss their anger away.” You raise an eyebrow and he tilts his head.
“You sure?”
“Don’t push it.”
—————————————————————————
guys I physically can’t have angst without a happy ending sorry not sorry 🙈 also plz leave me requests I’m aching to write but I have no idea what!!
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immortalmrwavell · 4 months ago
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Adam and Mr Wavell
(Written for @transformee) (Original story posted September 27th 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!
It’d started like any other normal day for Adam. He got up out of bed. Got himself some breakfast. Headed out for work. The usual routine that he’d long since gotten used to. Being an engineer certainly wasn’t the worst job in the world. In fact Adam found it rather rewarding sometimes and the pay was decent enough. If anyone were to ask, Adam would say he was satisfied with his life. And that was half true. Sure he was content with the life he had now. He couldn’t exactly complain about having a stable job that allowed him to live somewhat comfortably. Yet despite that Adam always kinda wished his lifestyle was a tad bit… different.
Each and every day when Adam opened one of his social media’s, his feed would practically be flooded with men who were smoking hot and jacked as fuck. And most of these men pretty much got paid just for looking as incredible as they do. Whether that be as a personal trainer, model, an actor or even in porn! These men got paid to look sexy as fuck and show it off. It sounded like a dream!
In all honesty It was that sort of lifestyle Adam wished he would have strived for instead. He wasn't a bad looking dude by any means. He believed he was pretty handsome, just a little out of shape was all. Mostly due to how he was never able to really push himself into working out or dieting properly. And for the longest time Adam thought he was okay with that. Deep down however, part of him always wished he’d led the same lifestyle as those fit hunks he saw online.
Being in his thirties now Adam had started to believe that perhaps a lifestyle like that just wasn’t for him. Since then he’d tried to just make peace with the fact that he was just an average looking dude working a normal job. That was until he arrived home later that evening and everything changed.
Adam unlocked the front door before stepping into his home. Letting out a long sigh of relief as he closed it behind him.
“Home at last I see.”
Adam almost jumped out his skin as he whipped around to see a man sat in a chair across the room.
“W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!?” Adam bellowed at the man in a panic. His brain was already cycling at a hundred miles a minute trying to think of the best course of action. Grab a weapon? Call the police? And yet while Adam was freaking out, the gentleman sitting in his house seemed completely unfazed.
With a smirk the man stood up from his seat, allowing Adam to get a better look at him. From what Adam could tell, the man looked to be in his early forties, late thirties at the youngest. He had short brown hair along with a nicely trimmed beard to match, the latter of which had a few flecks of silver running through it. As for his body, he looked to be just about 6 feet tall, if a tiny bit less. In terms of his build, the man seemed relatively lean with very little fat or muscle. As for his clothes, he wore a navy blue suit jacket over a white button up shirt along with a navy dotted tie. These were contrasted by a pair of tan khaki pants which were held firmly in place by a brown belt. Lastly his feet were clad in a fairly large pair of dark brown dress shoes along with a pair of black dress socks. An ordinary business casual look but this man seemed to be anything but ordinary.
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(Original Version of Mr Wavell here)
“You don’t need to be afraid Adam. I’m here to help you.” The mysterious man claimed in a way that probably sounded more ominous than intended. Despite it he began to step towards Adam.
“N-no… how do you know my name? I don’t know you!” Adam panicked as he moved backwards to keep his distance until his back was against the front door. He was about to reach for the handle and run outside until suddenly… he felt calm? Safe even? It was as if all of his natural danger sense had turned themselves off in favor of wanting to trust the stranger before him.
“No you don’t know me. But I know you Adam. I’ve been watching you for a little while now. Looking into your mind. Reading your desires.” The suited stranger’s voice was oddly soothing, so much so that Adam hardly even noticed his eyes glowing deep purple for a moment. “You may refer to as Mr Wavell” He revealed, the very name sending shivers up Adam’s spine for reasons unknown. “And for what I’m doing here? Well… I’m just looking for entertainment I suppose.” Wavell shrugged nonchalantly.
He went on to explain that he had… abilities. Abilities that allowed him to do things thought to be impossible. Despite the inexplicable wave of calm and trust that’d washed him moments ago, Adam couldn’t bring his rational mind to believe the man. Afterall he was talking about having magical powers like some kind of wizard! But before Adam had a chance to protest, he found himself frozen in both wonder and fear as Mr Wavell began to float off the ground.
“I must reiterate that I’m here to help, not hurt you.” Wavell said, noting the bewildered look on Adam’s face. “I can give you any life that you desire. Allow you to become whoever you choose. What do you say?” He boldly claimed, floating down until he stood directly beside Adam, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Adam was still frozen stiff. Was he dreaming? Was this actually real??
“Oh come on. You know this is a privilege right? It’s not everyday that I actually reveal my physical self to the people I help.” Wavell said, leaning forwards with a small smirk. That of course only left more questions in Adam’s mind.
The mysterious man went on to explain in further detail what exactly he could do for Adam. He could alter reality to change Adam’s past choices in order to create a new and better present. He could transform Adam’s body right here on the spot into anything Adam desired. Muscle growth, increase of height, bigger dick? All things that Adam’s rational mind wouldn’t have believed to be possible had it not been for the obvious display of real magic he’d just witnessed. However there was one option that caught Adam’s ear. Stealing the life and body of someone else. As confused and scared as Adam was right now, he couldn’t help but be curious and even slightly aroused at the mere idea of it.
“O-okay…” Adam mumbled meekly. “I want your help…”
Wavell clapped his hands together with a large grin. “Perfect! Now there are many different ways I can do this.” He began, sounding almost a little too enthusiastic about it all. “I can switch your soul with another person. Your soul in their body and theirs in your body. I could transform you and this other person into one another. You transform into him and vice versa. You get it.” Wavell laid out the options as if he were about to have Adam choose one. “However I’ve already picked out another more interesting method for you. So all I want you to do is pick someone.”
Adam thought for a moment. If this was real then this could be one of the biggest decisions of his life. But surely there was some kind of monkey‘s paw right? “What’s the catch?” He asked, finally putting on a brave face.
The magical imbued stranger raised an eyebrow to Adam. “There isn’t one. You don’t owe me a thing. Honestly!” Wavell stepped back and put his hands up. “I’m doing this because I love it. It’s what I do. Hopefully once it’s all over you’ll enjoy it just as much as I.” Wavell lowered his hands before placing them on his hips. “Now. Is there anybody you have in mind who perhaps you’d like to become?”
Adam thought for a moment. He wasn't sure. This was just so surreal it made it hard to think. Like a fog clouding his thoughts. “I don’t… know?”
“Don’t worry. I get you’re probably still trying to wrap your mind around all this so I’ll do you a favor.” Wavell gently placed a hand on Adam's head and closed his eyes. Immediately Adam felt strange. As if he could feel this man’s fingers shuffling through his mind. Feeling out his wants and desires until Wavell got a decent idea of the kind of body to put Adam in. He took his hand away from Adam’s head. “I think I know just the guy but he’s not exactly close. He lives up in Virginia while you’re here in Georgia. How would you feel about a little change of scenery?”
“What do yo—“ before Adam could finish, the world around him spun and shifted.
———
Chris found himself standing alone in the locker room at his local gym. It was just about closing time now and he was the last guy remaining other than staff. He wiped away the sweat that’d been dripping down his face with a towel as he grabbed his stuff out of the locker. It’d been another tough workout for him today but it was always worth it to feel that pump and admire the physique he’d been able to build thanks to all his hard work. Unbeknownst to him however, a certain two individuals watched on behind a veil of magic that cloaked them both from sight..
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Moments prior, Adam and Wavell arrived at the gym via the latter’s unique abilities. In a gust of purple smoke, Adam went from standing by his front door to now finding himself standing inside a gym locker room that didn’t seem at all familiar.
“H-H-Hoolyyy… FUCK! What just HAPPENED!?” Adam shouted hysterically.
“Basic teleport.” Wavell replied swiftly and bluntly as if that should’ve been common knowledge. “Don’t worry about that. Look.” Wavell nodded towards the entrance to the locker room, prompting Adam to look as well.
Mere seconds after, a sweaty muscular man wearing a tight tank top and shorts entered. He was in phenomenal shape. Far better than Adam was. Not only did he look sculpted with thick muscle from head to toe, but this hunk even had one of the most handsome faces to go along with it. Yet despite all the starring Adam and Wavell were doing, the jock seemed to pay no mind to either of them. Not even a glance. Like he didn’t even know they existed!
“I’ve made us invisible to him. He can neither see nor hear us.” Mr Wavell confirms to Adam. Right on cue this man they now seem to be spying on walked directly past them both without a clue. As he does Adam gets a good whiff of the stud's powerful post workout scent, turning the semi he got just from looking at the man into a full hard on. The pair continued to watch as the man opened up his locker and pulled out a towel to wipe himself down with.
“His name is Chris. He’s twenty eight years old and has been working out most of his life. Hence the gorgeous physique. And to top it off he’s quite the looker. Needless to say his body and looks have awarded him a lot. Modeling opportunities. A large following on social media. An army of men and women alike drooling over him and eager to throw money at him. He’s one lucky bastard.” The warlock explained, seeming to possess a bottomless well of knowledge. “I’d ask how you feel about him but I think I already know the answer.” Wavell sniggered as he glanced down at the bulge in Adams pants.
Adam’s face turned a bright shade of red as he tried to hide his growing arousal with little success. He couldn’t help it as his eyes traced over the glistening sweaty physique of the hunky god before him. Watching intently as the man removed his tank top to reveal the muscle that’d been hidden underneath.
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“So… are you gonna turn me into… him?” Adam gulped, trying his best not to drool at the mere thought of it as he watched the man peel off the tank top. His cock getting even more excited at the reveal of Chris’ muscled upper body.
Wavell simply nodded.
“Does that mean you’re gonna turn him into me?” Adam wondered.
Wavell crossed his arms and hummed. “Not exactly. Normally I would but I’ve got something different in mind today.” Wavell confessed as the blank look on his face slowly turned to a sadistic looking grin that left Adam feeling a bit nervous for Chris’ fate. But the magical being was quick to notice this, his look softening again to one of reassurance. “And before you ask, no I’m not going to kill him or anything like that. He’ll be perfectly fine.”
Hearing that set Adam’s mind at ease. That said he was however rather curious to see what Wavell was planning. What exactly was he gonna do to this Chris guy?
It was then that Wavell’s eyes glowed that bright purple once more. At first Adam didn’t realise what Wavell had done until…
“Hey… Where the hell did you guys come from?” Chris asked as he turned to see two men staring at him from across the locker room. It was like they’d just appeared out of thin air.
Wavell stepped forward, straightening his tie as he did “Oh I just know you’re gonna enjoy this body Adam.” He declared, running his gaze up and down Chris’ body. Lingering on those enormous thighs and juicy pecs.
At this point Chris was getting super creeped out and understandably so. “What the fuck are talking about dude!? Are you trying to hit on me or something?” He questioned, quickly getting annoyed at how this dude was eyeing him up like a piece of meat.
It was then in the blink of an eye that Wavell stood inches away from Chris. It seeing a real life glitch as Wavell instantly moved from halfway across the room to his face being less than a ruler's length away from Chris. He barely had time to think let alone act before Wavell grabbed one of his boulder-like shoulders. Suddenly Chris was completely immobilised thanks to Wavell’s magic. And with that the aforementioned wizard slipped his other hand down in Chris’ gym shorts before cupping his crotch. Loving how Chris’ cock and balls pressed tightly against the pair of white compression shorts he wore underneath.
“Don’t worry big guy. I promise you won’t even feel a thing.” An ominously reassuring smile spread across Wavell’s face as his eyes glowed once more. It was then that a bright flash of light enveloped both him and Chris, forcing Adam to cover his eyes. It only lasted a couple of seconds but when the light dissipated, Chris was nowhere to be seen. The only things left of the hunk were his clothes as the gym shorts he’d been wearing fell to the floor atop of the now empty pair of socks and trainers. Meanwhile those white compression shorts Chris had been wearing were still in Wavell’s hand, the warlock holding them gently now as he inspected them for whatever reason.
Chris had no idea what just happened. That weird middle aged looking dude just grabbed him and now all of a sudden he felt so light and… hollow? The first thing he saw was the smirking face of that dude again only now it was from a lower angle, as if he were being held by the man and looked down upon. Yet as bizarre as that was, he couldn’t ignore the strong smell that seemed identical to his own crotch. Only now it surrounded him completely. Somehow Chris was able to shift his gaze in order to look down at himself and what he saw was unreal. Not just unreal, it was impossible and terrifying! No longer did he see the thick muscular body he was used to seeing. In fact he didn’t see a human body at all! He’d been turned into the very same pair of white compression shorts he’d been wearing! He could even feel the creepy dude’s hand against the fabric of the compression shorts as if it were his own skin! He wanted the scream in horror but nothing came out thanks to his lack of a face. It was only thanks to magic that he could still see and hear.
“This’ll do just fine.” Wavell said before turning to Adam who was still looking on in confusion. “I’ve trapped him inside these shorts he was wearing. I’ve made it so he can still see, hear, feel, taste and smell with his spiritual senses in there but besides that he’s completely helpless.” Wavell explained with a tad too much enjoyment. “Now all you’ve got to do is put him on and everything he had will become yours.”
Wavell instructed Adam to strip down. The latter hesitated for a moment but did but nervously did as he was asked. Afterwards not being able to help feeling a little embarrassed with how exposed he felt but Wavell didn’t seem to mind. The warlock handed the enchanted compression shorts over to Adam with a mischievous smile, clearly excited to see what was to come.
Chris was unsurprisingly freaking the fuck out as Adam took the shorts. Between what’s happened to him and hearing what Wavell had just said, he was having a complete meltdown. He didn’t want this Adam guy to take over his life!? Unfortunately his cries fell on deaf ears. He was powerless to stop it. Unable to do a single thing as Adam gently slipped his legs into the compression shorts one at a time before pulling them up. Chris protested all he could but it made no difference as Adam pulled Chris’ hollow fabric body over his ass and crotch.
As insane as this whole situation was, Adam couldn’t help shivering with delight. Knowing he was not only wearing compression shorts that belonged to such a hunk but also that same hunk was trapped inside them! He knew it was wrong and twisted of him to get satisfaction out of this but he couldn’t help it! Even though the shorts were a bit ill fitting on him, just having that jock’s musk surrounding his own crotch was turning him on like hell!
“So, how long will it ta-aaaakeeeuuuuaahhhhhhh” Adam’s question quickly devolved into a long groan thanks to an unfamiliar sensation that began racing through his body! Flooding every vein in his body with levels of magical energy his brain found difficult to comprehend. And then it began.
Before anything else the energy began to focus on Adam’s glutes. His groans became even louder as his ass cheeks started to tone and expand with muscle until it had ballooned into a thick muscle ass that filled out the backside of his new compression shorts perfectly. The feeling of which had Adam’s already hard cock leaking pre-cum that stained the front of said shorts. And yet despite it being at full mast, Adam could feel his cock somehow growing longer and fatter too! His bulge grew even more obvious by the second while his balls swelled larger as well to accommodate. His nuts now churned with the very same cum Chris once had.
Through all his groaning Adam was able to look down at his crotch and over his shoulder to see that he now had Chris’ cock and ass! And as his hips resized, the haunted compression shorts now fit him like a glove. Meanwhile Chris himself was soaring through a flurry of emotions as he begged to wake up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in. He could feel himself being stretched out across his out muscle butt while the taste of cum soaked into his fabric. Unfortunately for him, this was very very real.
From there the transformation continued to spread outwards and it progressed both up and down Adam’s body. His quads and hamstrings found themselves bulking up significantly, causing a soft grunt to escape Adam’s lips as he grew a set of meaty thunderous thighs. Simultaneously his eyes widened with disbelief as the fat on his belly started to melt away before his eyes, replacing itself with pure muscle mass in the form of strong thick abs. The kind Adam could’ve only dreamed of having. Every part of him wanted to stop and admire his new bulky thighs and abs but the transformation was far too impatient to give him the time.
Next up were his calves. He could feel them pulsing as they swelled with power to match his thighs. But they weren’t the real show. How could they be when Adam was far too absorbed into watching his flabby chest transform into a huge pair of pecs! It was something he’d always dreamed of. Being able to look down and see a hulking pair of muscle tits. And now it's finally becoming a reality! Adam’s eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and lust as he watched his chest begin to protrude outwards. His engorged cock growing more excited than ever as his pecs inflated into two gorgeous watermelons. He already wanted nothing more than to grope them and if he hadn’t felt the transformation beginning to surge through his arms, he would’ve.
But before his arms could have their glory, his shoulders exploded with mass first. Growing in an almost cartoony fashion as they transformed into cannonballs while his traps made sure to follow suit. With that, Adam’s biceps couldn’t wait any longer. He flexed them with a long moan as ballooned under the pressure, swelling to massive proportions with unthinkable strength. Soon after his forearms followed the same example as veins began popping like crazy across his bulging arms.
What came next however felt distinctly different from everything else. His hands and feet. They were a totally different experience but still painless nonetheless. His feet were the first to change. Increasing size after size at a rapid rate that certainly would’ve made his shoes feel tighter had he not taken them off. His hands weren’t far behind though as they too grew slightly. The more noticeable change however was how much rougher and calloused they became.
At last Adam’s body seemed complete but there was one last thing to change. As soon as the transformation had spread up his neck, causing it to thicken and his voice to deepen, his head was all that was left.
Adam gritted his teeth and scrunched his face as his features began to twist and alter themselves. Immediately he started to look younger than before as he regressed from his mid thirties back to his late twenties. His face quickly brgan taking on a much more jockish look as he started to look less and less like himself and more like Chris. To top it off his hair morphed into Chris’ messy brown style while his eyes shifted more towards Chris’ soft yet still masculine ones. Finishing things off by having Chris’ short brown beard sprout across Adam’s now much sharper jawline.
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At last the intense sensation subsided. Adam was finally able to catch his breath as sweat dripped down his transformed physique. He looked down at himself in disbelief. It didn’t seem real but… he now owned the body of a total fucking hunk! He simply couldn’t help himself as he flexed his new massive guns, taking turns feeling them with each hand. Feeling the power flowing through his biceps as he flexed them was something else entirely. And of course he couldn’t ignore the huge new muscle titties that sat on his chest now. He was groping and flexing them too in no time. It’d be a crime not to worship them. With the excitement of it all, Adam also couldn’t help but dig his nose into his new sweaty pits to get a good whiff of that post workout scent he’d adopted from Chris.
“See. I always know what’s best for my clients.” Wavell sniggered. Adam was so enthralled by his new body that he’d almost forgotten Wavell was there.
“Clients?” Adam questioned, a little shocked by the sound of his new voice.
“Well… ‘clients’ sounds better than ‘subjects’.” The warlock admitted cheekily. “Now! I’m sure you’ve already got questions and I’m pretty certain I know the first one. Are you gonna turn back to normal if you take those compression shorts off? Well allow me to reassure you in saying no.” Wavell confirmed what Adam was bound to ask. “When I trapped Chris inside those shorts, I also sealed his physical essence inside them. Now that you’ve worn them however, that physical essence is inside you. Permanently. So you’ll never have to worry about losing your new body. By all means it belongs to you now. Besides… I’m sure you want to get a better look at what’s underneath.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows while glancing down at the obscene bulge in Adam’s shorts.
Adam turned and strutted over to one of the many locker room mirrors, cock bouncing awkwardly as he did. Immediately upon seeing his reflection Adam was awestruck. He was in love. With himself!! He just couldn’t help admiring his muscles some more before eventually grabbing the waistband and pulling down his haunted shorts. The real Chris screams in protest as he finds himself dropping to this imposter's ankles.
“Oh… Fuuuuuuuccck…” Adam muttered as his new cock flopped out before him in all its glory. His hand practically gravitated towards it before wrapping around the girthy shaft. God it was massive. He was almost afraid to start pumping it since after all that transforming, it felt like it was ready to blow at any second! The sensitivity on it was just through the roof! But Adam couldn’t help himself and ended up giving it a few tugs. In turn he found himself letting out a deep manly groan before, allowing the monster to buck involuntarily for a moment.
Before he ended up busting a nut, Adam’s decided he wanted to get a better look at his new glutes first as he turned his backside to the mirror. He just loved how big and bubbly his cheeks looked. When he flexed them they were as hard as steel but relaxed they felt squishy and jiggly. Part of him wished he could stuff his face into his own ass with how good it looked. That’s when another thought sprung to mind. Adam gently reached back towards his ass, squeezing it a little before slipping a finger between his cheeks as a way to test something. And it was just as he thought. The moment his finger came anywhere near his new asshole it immediately tightened on instinct. The reflex was so strong that it pretty much confirmed Chris used to be straight. Well not anymore. This ass was far too hot to go to waste.
As much as he wanted to tease his virgin ass a little more, Adam just couldn’t ignore his cock any longer. It was pulsing and begging for release at this point. He needed to grab it! He needed to jerk it! He needed to bust a fuckin nut bro! As Chris would say anyway. But before he could begin pumping, Wavell chirped up yet again.
“How about you let me take care of that for you. Just think of it as your way of thanking me.” Wavell licked his lips as sauntered over towards Adam before kneeling in front of that massive cock. Wavell opened his mouth before wrapping his lips around Adam’s meaty dick and began sucking like a pro.
“Oouh-ooooh… ooauhh… Oohhhhuuu!” Adam was completely taken aback as he was forced to let out disjointed moans once again. All the while his new voice echoed through the locker rooms. Just the view of being able to look down and now only see such a hot jock body as his own but also seeing this hot older man sucking him off was beyond sexy. Wavell swiftly bobbed his head up and down on the cock, somehow taking Adam’s entire length without even the slightest gag. Whoever the hell this Mr Wavell guy was, he certainly knew how to work those bearded lips of his around a huge cock. That’s for fucking for sure.
“Fuuuuuck!! I’m gonna… OOOAAUUHHH!!“ Adam Could feel it already. A tsunami of cum getting ready to spew from his dick. Before he’d even laughed Wavell was already grabbing onto Adam’s ass to make sure he didn’t try and pull away. But of course Adam had no plans on doing as his dick finally let loose torrents of hot cum that down Wavell’s throat. The older man gulped it all down greedily, sucking every last drop of cum out of Adam’s cock before finally pulling off it, a bit of cum dribbling down his beard.
“Ahhhhhhhh…” Wavell leaned back with a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face. “Now that was refreshing. I can confirm that your new cum tastes absolutely delicious.” Wavell confessed as he got back up onto his feet. He dusted himself off a little before readjusting his suit and tie. “Well it seems my work here is done. Chris’ memories should start to kick in for you in about 10 minutes from now. You’ll then know everything you need to know about his life. Where your new home is, how he earns money, what kinds of friends he keeps. And whatever else you need to play out his life as if it were your own.” Wavell looked down at the tight compression shorts Adam had begun pulling back up. “And the real Chris gets to watch everything from between your legs… or from the laundry basket.” He chuckled.
With that Wavell began to levitate off the ground once again. “I’m off to have some more fun. Enjoy that hunky new body of yours Adam. Or should I call you Chris? That is your new name now after all.” Mr Wavell grinned knowing just how much the real Chris was begging to be set free. “Keep your eyes open though. I might come back and visit you again some day just to check in.” And just like that the magical man seemingly disappeared into thin air, leaving Adam alone.
Finally alone at last, Adam looked down at the compression shorts that now cling tightly to his hulking body. “Enjoying yourself down there? Being pressed against your own dick and balls?” Adam teased somewhat cruelly, enjoying this a little more than he probably should be right now. Going as far as to reach down and grope his crotch to really rub the scent in.
This whole time Chris had been screaming and protesting as this body snatcher groped his body and even more so when he’d got his dick sucked by another dude! But now as the scent of his former cock and balls mixed with cum and sweat started to mess with Chris’ fragile mind, he was starting to give in at last. His thoughts grew foggier while his fabric body continued to absorb the powerful smell. He looked up only to see his own handsome face smirking down at him. No. It wasn’t his face anymore. There was no going back. Now he was nothing more than a pair of compression shorts for his master to wear.
Meanwhile Adam decided to open the bag that’d been in Chris’s locker only to pull out a pair of clean grey t-shirt and a cap. Without hesitation he slipped both of them on, loving how the large shirt hugged his muscular frame in all the right places. After which he grabbed and pulled on the black gym shorts Chris had been wearing earlier before tugging on Chris’ gym socks and trainers. All of it fitting him like a glove. At last turning to the trusty mirror once again, he couldn’t help but whistle at how fucking sexy he looked! So much so that he started turning to inspect his body for all different angles. God he just couldn’t get enough of those bulky legs. As much as he adored his arms and pecs, he was starting to think his legs may actually be his best asset afterall.
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He couldn’t help grabbing Chris’ phone and taking a few quick photos of himself to savour the moment. Pictures he’d surely look back on in the future to remember the day when he stole this body. And to jerk off too of course. Maybe he’d even post them to one of his new socials later.
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Now all he had to do was wait for these memories to kick in. That Mr Wavell dude said they were gonna come any second and when they did Adam was truly going to become Chris inside and out. And once he’d settled into his new life he was gonna see if he could find some dudes eager to fuck his muscle ass get railed by his enormous new cock. With a body like this he was bound to have stamina for hours.
Then it hit him. All at once. Adam let out a thunderous roar as his mind flooded with memories from Chris’ life. Most of them being delegated to the back of his consciousness to pull on when needed while others came straight to the forefront. Immediately he knew everything there was to know about Chris. He even felt some of Chris’ personality traits starting to take root. That cocky gym bro attitude was starting to settle in comfortably. He might’ve still remembered everything from when he was Adam, but that wasn’t who he was anymore. That was a mere shell that the real him had finally emerged from.
Chris strode confidently out of the Gym and towards his car. He just couldn’t wait to get home so he could strip down and take as many nudes as possible of himself. His new life was about to be absolutely incredible.
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engr4veq · 8 days ago
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《 “Talk to me.” 🥞
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: mentions of scars (not self-harm!), fluff/comfort??
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You had a unique ability that allowed you to trigger a power enhancement by drawing your own blood. Being an avenger meant you constantly had to do this with the use of a dagger. Most of the times, these cuts were done on your fingers and some on your arms, so you normally wore gloves or long sleeved clothing. You didn’t wish to hide anything, but you didn’t want the entire team to be rapid firing questions at you for 24 hours.
Now, you rummage through your closet, the mass of clothing almost sucking you in. You panic looking for a sweater, a sweat shirt, anything long sleeved. You sigh in frustration then straighten your posture and stretch a bit. You can’t go and eat breakfast in front of all the avengers with a t-shirt on. They don’t know about the scars yet, and they’d question you about it relentlessly. You curse to yourself as you dig more, eventually picking up a grey, crew neck, sweat shirt. You slide into it, a pair of black pants, and slip on some comfortable socks as you walk out of your room and head towards the kitchen.
The quiet hum of a nearby conversation in the living room reaches your ears, but it was deliberate. You peek around the corner and see the avengers gathered in the living room, all of them looking a bit too serious. It looked as if they were talking about something confidential, but you weren’t close enough to make out what it was. You give up and walk through the living room to get to the kitchen. As you stepped into the room, all eyes snapped onto you, some of them giving a small nod or smile while others just stare. I nod at them in acknowledgment, awkwardly shuffling to the kitchen to escape prying eyes. As you walked into the kitchen, you notice the annoying hum start up again.
You couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about you..
You blink and shake your head, making yourself a grilled cheese sandwich in the toaster to distract yourself. Then, sat at the kitchen island, and started to eat quietly. The silence was deafening, and the tension weighed heavy on your shoulders as you chew. You slightly bounce your leg, the feeling of the Avenger’s watching you growing on you and not in a good way. It was a strange feeling, like they were waiting for you to say something. You quickly finished your food and stood up to wash your dish, trying to dismiss the crawling feeling of being observed.
Eventually the sound of trained footsteps approach from behind and you hesitantly glance over your shoulder. It was Natasha. The red head leaned against the counter beside you, her arms casually crossed over her chest. She watched you for a moment, before speaking.
"You're up early," she said, her voice low and smooth.
You shift slightly as you nod glancing at her. Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze lingering on your hands for a moment. She could see the faint scars on your fingers, but she didn't question it.
"You usually sleep in later than this," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.
You swallow and keep your eyes glued to the sud on your hands, her gaze penetrating your skull. You wash it off before shrugging “I just woke up earlier today.”
Natasha continued to study you for a moment longer, before pushing herself off the counter and walking closer to you. Her eyes were now locked on your hands, taking a note of your tenseness.
"You’re nervous. Why?—"
“I’m fine.” You quickly dismiss, avoiding her eyes. Natasha raised a brow at your response, not buying your nonchalant tone. She reached out and gently grabbed your hands, examining the scars on your fingers.
"These aren't just from training," she said, her voice firm with slightly soft eyes.
The sudden pull of your hand away from her’s surprised her.
“Your point..?” You said, furrowing your brows. Natasha's expression hardened and she crossed her arms again, her eyes studying you closely.
"You're avoiding the question," she said, her tone measured. "Why do you have scars on your hands?"
“No reason.”
Her eyes narrowed further at your response as she took a step closer to you. She could see right through your lie.
"You're a terrible liar," she said, her voice sharp. "I can tell that there's something you're not telling me.”
“Is that what you all were talking about this morning?—”
You snap, looking up at her in frustration.
“My hands I mean.”
It felt harder to breathe as the silence clawed at your already fuelled anxiety. Though, you were not expecting Natasha's expression to ease. She realizes that you had overheard their conversation.
"Yes,” She sighed, “We were talking about you.” She glanced at your face and then your hands, her eyes tracing over the scars on your fingers.
"They're too deep to be from training," she said, her voice quiet. "And the amount of scars you have... it's not natural."
You sigh in frustration and roll your eyes slightly, turning to leave.
“Just leave it—“
Natasha's hand shot out and held your wrist before you could retreat.
"No." she said, her grip firm. "I'm not going to leave it. You have something you're not telling us, and I want to know what it is."
“You want to know too much, widow—“ You said, shifting uncomfortably as her grip tenses.
Natasha held your gaze, her eyes unwavering despite the tense silence. She knew that you were stubborn, but she also knew that she could be just as stubborn. She wasn't going to let you avoid the question. You raise a brow, finding that slightly attractive. Hell, you had a huge crush on the woman.
The silence is then broken as Natasha sighs a bit, leaning closer to you. "You know," she started, her voice soft, "If you don't tell me what's going on, I'll find out myself."
You stare at her for a few seconds and then tug your hand out of her hold.
“Fine— I’ll spill.” You scoff and explain the draw back with your powers.
“—and before you ask. I didn’t tell you guys, because you’d question me about it for hours.” You said, looking away from Natasha.
There’s a beat of silence.
“Hey.”
You glanced up at her as she takes your hands into her’s with care.
“We ask a lot of questions, yes, but it’s because we care.” She squeezes your hands, her lips were pursed into a sheepish smile as she holds the eye contact.
This is the wrong time. You take a moment to study them, her eyes, the beautiful green paired with her dark eyeliner. Your gaze drifts to the stray lock of her red hair in her face and then you find yourself looking at her lips as you zone out. Your eyes flicker back up to her’s in embarrassment, the air thick. Natasha lowers her eyelids and slightly hovers closer to you, her gaze taking in your flustered expression.
Suddenly, there’s a whistle near the entrance of the kitchen as both of your gazes snap up to see a smirking Clint and shocked Tony.
You roll your eyes and step away from Natasha before sighing.
“I’m leaving..” You stare at her for a bit before walking off. Natasha’s eyes follow you a bit, a flicker of disappointment in them before Tony clears his throat. She shoots a glare at him and he rolls his eyes.
“You have some explaining to do.”
Note🍒: Tony and Clint are actual cock blockers. :[
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brainddeadd · 3 months ago
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Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
folding their clean laundry and putting it away
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The roar of the crowd still echoed in Quinn’s ears as he drove home, the adrenaline from the game gradually fading. The Vancouver Canucks had pulled off a hard-fought victory, but he was already dreading the mountain of laundry waiting for him from the past week of away games. The thought of tackling it felt exhausting.
Pulling into his apartment complex, he sighed heavily, wishing he could avoid the chore altogether. As he stepped inside, he was met with the sight of the laundry piled high on his kitchen counter. It loomed over him like a dark cloud, mocking his exhaustion. But then, something caught his eye.
There, next to the pile of dirty clothes, was a neat stack of folded laundry. Each shirt, sock, and pair of shorts was perfectly arranged, and Quinn’s heart swelled at the sight. He instantly recognized your handiwork. You had come over while he was gone, and the realization brought a smile to his face.
Without a second thought, he grabbed his keys and rushed back out the door. The urge to see you and thank you in person was overwhelming. He hopped into his car and drove through the quiet streets of Vancouver, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
Arriving at your apartment building, he parked and dashed inside, his heart pounding with anticipation. He knocked lightly on your door, unable to contain his excitement. Moments later, you opened the door, looking surprised but delighted to see him.
“Quinn!” you exclaimed, stepping aside to let him in.
“Hey,” he said breathlessly, his eyes scanning your cozy space. You wore a soft sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly beautiful.
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped forward and enveloped you in a warm embrace, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. “I saw what you did,” he murmured into your hair, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo.
You pulled back slightly, a playful smile on your lips. “You’re welcome! I thought you could use some help.”
He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You really didn’t have to. But I’m so glad you did.”
With a grin, you led him to the couch, where you both sank into the cushions. Quinn felt a sense of peace wash over him, the stresses of the day melting away.
“I was just folding laundry and watching some TV,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Better than what I was doing,” he replied, wrapping his arm around you. “I was just staring at a pile of clothes, wishing they would magically disappear.”
You laughed lightly, and he couldn’t help but smile. “You know, I could get used to this. You coming over and doing my laundry,” he teased, pulling you closer.
“Only if you keep winning games,” you shot back playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Quinn leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll do my best. But right now, I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”
As you both settled in, the outside world faded away. In that cozy space, surrounded by your laughter and warmth, Quinn knew he had everything he needed.
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notapradagurl7 · 4 months ago
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Sick Day In.
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Black! Fem Readr x Orlando Johnson from All American: Homecoming.
(a/n: he is so fine. I loved writing this one.😫❤️)
Taglist: @lavnderluv @harmshake @sageispunk @soft-persephone @megamindsecretlair @westside-rot @siqueth @liatreads @torsiar @mypointlessdays @justhornyyme @cristallizednmesmerized @satoruya @planetblaque @hoodbarbiesims @harlemheiress @glitterperms @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings @judymfmoody @life-in-the-slut-house @keyera-jackson @tryingtograspctrl @nzia-writes @multiversefanfics @thecookiebratz
Summary: You were feeling under the weather in your college dorm so your boyfriend Orlando visited your dorm and helped you get better.
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——————
You lay slouching against the white bed sheets, cocooned in light green blankets. Your fingers plucked another dark green tissue from the bedside tan table, as you blew your nose with a sniffle. Sliding off the twin bed, you peeled back the covers, revealing white socks gliding over the grey carpet. Frustration set in you as you tossed yet another tissue into the overflowing mint green bin, rolling your brown eyes, and pursing your lips.
A quick hand wash in the compact bathroom, and you returned to your bed, surrounded by the eggshell white cinder block walls in the average-sized dorm room, The walls were adorned with your own artwork, and a cherished family photo. Just then, a few gentle knocks on the door pulled your attention.
"Who's there?" you asked, you weren’t in the mood for company right now.
You were an art major and college student at Bringston University, an HBCU in Atlanta.
You were dedicated to your studies and held the position of club president in the art club.
Your strict academic schedule and demanding leadership role left you with little time to rest. Unfortunately, you fell ill and were forced to spend your summer cooped up alone in your dorm room, unable to enjoy the sunny Atlanta weather. Your hard work and dedication have taken a toll on your health.
You had been looking forward to the summer break to relax and recharge, but your plans were ruined by the cold. You missed your family and friends, who were all back home, and wished you could be there too.
Despite feeling sick, you had still managed to inform your boyfriend, Orlando about your not being able to make it for their date tonight. Although he empathized with your condition, he was still eager to spend some quality time with you. You appreciated your boyfriend's concern.
During your art class, the two college students crossed paths and soon became partners on a collaborative project. It was then that he witnessed your natural artistic talent, admiring every stroke and technique you used.
The two of you worked together, you found it endearing that he took such care in learning how to handle a paintbrush. Your partnership blossomed into a friendship, with you cheering him on at his baseball games and him buying your art supplies when you lost them.
Eventually, your friendship evolved into a romantic relationship and he proved to be an exceptional boyfriend. Attentive to every detail, he never missed a beat when it came to you.
You were grateful for Orlando's support and love and he was grateful for yours too, especially during times like this when you felt helpless and alone. You knew you could always count on him to lift your spirits and make you feel better.
In her comfortable attire, you sported a grey tee shirt that was matched with a pair of grey sweatpants that clung to your legs. You wore white tube socks on your feet, while your raven box braids, gently swayed in front of your face. Your hands were tucked away in your pockets, and the room was filled with the sweet aroma of vanilla, emanating from the trio of candles on your nightstand. The thin, white blinds allowed the gentle sunlight to peek through and shine upon your brown skin. Serene silence fills the room.
"It's Orlando." He said outside of your dorm room, made your heart leap with excitement. You practically skipped over to the door, your hand eagerly grasping the metal door handle.
You slowly swung the door open, your face broke into a smile at the sight of your boyfriend standing there. Without hesitation, you welcomed him inside your cozy dorm room, his hand holding a bag filled with everything you needed to combat the cold you had. Orlando holding a bouquet of red roses. You couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture as you closed the door behind him.
"Hey, baby," Orlando greeted you with a gentle kiss on your forehead, "I brought you some soup, medicine, and your favorite snacks, your favorite movies. A bouquet of red roses to cheer you up."
"Orlando, Thank you. You're the best." Your eyes glinted with gratitude as you took the bag and bouquet from him, carefully placing it next to the nightstand while putting the flowers in the purple vase. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging her from behind. You felt your heart fill with affection for him as your cheeks grew hot.
"How are you feeling Y/N?" Orlando asked in a gentle tone, as he leaned in and rested his chin on your shoulder. His thumb gently rubbed over your stomach, hoping that his presence could bring some good to the summer that had been tough for you.
"Still pretty crappy, this cold won't go away but don't you have a baseball season this summer? I hope that I didn't get in the way of your games," you spoke in a gentle tone, shaking your head as you looked at him.
Orlando gently shook his head, his hands cupping your face as he turned around and
Faced you forward to meet your gaze. He locked eyes with you, his tender touch causing her chest to flutter with nerves. He didn't want you to think he didn't care about your well-being.
"I only care about being with you this summer. You've been overworking yourself and it pains me to see you like this. I'll skip another season." he mentioned softly, his thumb swiped over your cheek.
"Let me take care of you baby," Orlando said in a sultry voice, his gaze fixated on your. He nibbled on his lower lip, as if contemplating the next move.
Your heart raced as you soaked his words, understanding both senses but feeling unprepared for what he had planned. He leaned in for a kiss, but she quickly turned your head, redirecting his lips to your cheek. "I don't want you to get sick," you pouted.
"Let's wait until I get better." you added, you didn't want to risk his health for momentary pleasure.
Orlando let out a contented hum and turned his attention to your bottom lip. After a brief moment, he looked back into your eyes and uttered, "One of the many things I love about you." He then leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.
You knew you were lucky to have someone like him in her life and so was he. The two of you sat on your bed, watching movies and enjoying the soup and snacks, you felt your cold slowly start to fade away. But more than that, you felt the warmth and comfort of your boyfriend's love.
—————
The night sky crept up on them faster than anticipated, but with the help of medication, a steaming bowl of soup, and some cough drops, your cold went away.
Orlando's back leaned against the light green plush pillows with your back nestled against his chest and he gently laid his chin on top of your head while he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, snuggling further into his embrace. "Yup, thanks to you," you replied, your voice still a bit hoarse.
Orlando chuckled. "I'm just glad I could help." They lay there in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the air conditioner.
Orlando placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and used his index finger to lift your chin. "Now that you're feeling better, can I take care of you?" He whispered in a low tone. You flushed and nodded, "Yes, of course, baby."
Your lips met in a passionate kiss as you tilted your heads in different directions, exploring each other's mouths with your tongues. You let out a soft moan as the kiss intensified, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips as you parted.
"Orlando can you lock the door really quick?"
——————
Your naked back laid flat against the white bedsheets with his hands held your hips in place while his slim hips rocked into you, while your fingernails sunk into back muscles and your mouth hung open to let a chorus of moans, "Oh shitt! Orlando!" you moaned loudly, your eyes locked intensely, your thumb traced the outline of his lips while he smirked against your brown skin, he trailed kisses up to your breast. The bed creaked from their movement, you shivered with pleasure, sending tingles down yourr entire body. He plunged deeper into you while you arched your back off the bed.
Orlando lowers his head to pepper warm kisses on the sides of your neck and sinks his teeth into your neck gently, leaving hickeys on your brown skin while he gyrated into you making your toes curl in the air, "Talk to me, tell me how good it feels.." Orlando lulled to you, you gasped at the sensation of his tongue swiveling around your erect nipple while his other hand gently kneaded your other breast and the wet sounds of your skin colliding filled the room.
Orlando's mouth enveloped your nipple, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your body. You pulled him closer, your hands moving to the back of his neck. "It's so good, Don't stop," you sputtered, pulling him closer to you as you whispered, motivating him more as he quickened his pace, your wet walls clenched around him so tightly "Damn...you're taking it so good baby.." he praised lowly, his nails digging into your hips while his middle finger circled her clit. Tilting their heads together to deepen the kiss, you moaned, "Mmhm!" unable to control the pleasure that was building inside of you.
His hips lunged faster, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, "I'm gonna cum baby..." You gasped, He didn't slow down, instead, he pushed you over the edge with a few slow, sloppy thrusts. You cried out his name while your essence gushed around his dick, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.
Orlando pulled out of you, "fuckk.." Orlando gripped the covers and laid them on their naked bodies while pulling you into his arms and he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your brown skin. "You're so beautiful," He hummed, his voice husky. You smiled, feeling completely content in his arms before kissing your lips tenderly again.
———————
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sinnamorolly · 1 year ago
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plug!ony hcs
as you wish anon😩🫴🏾
ony is definitely the rich plug. the type of to always be in a nice ass car and dont give a fuck abt people being in his business fr.
always wearing his signature pearly white smile with a couple teeth covered in gold. his ears and neck always donning diamonds that compliment the tattoos running up his neck too well.
he don’t usually invite customers into his car but he always pulls up and nods for you to get in whenever you order.
he never rly charged you for anything at all, although when you were a new customer you insisted on paying him (that didnt last long LMFAO)
you dont rly remember how these sessions started, but you just started spending more and more time in his car until you were placing orders just to see him. you would always make sure that you were looking all pretty and wearing a cute top that sat your breasts up real nice.
ony on the other hand could tell you the exact outfit you wore the first day you placed an order down to the socks. his ass was shell shocked to say the least!
will usually roll for you (and pearl tf outta that bitch may i add) and smoke with you while some RnB plays. you’ll usually tell him abt your day or your plans for the night. once ur done and ready to leave you throw your arms around him and kiss his cheek before pulling back to bat your lashes and say “goodnight ony” to which he replies “night baby” (safe to say you were going around SCREAMING my man after the first time he said that)
he ends up really becoming ur man once he paints that pretty face of yours in the back of his lambo. he was alr planning on asking u to be his girl, but you bet him to smoke you out and one thing inevitably led to another. maybe it was the way you throated every inch or the way you sucked on his balls like they were your favorite candy. but he definitely came back the next day with your favorite flowers, food, and a gold necklace with “ony” on it.
BONUS: shotgunning w this man is so sexy. he would put you square in his lap before grabbing your neck and blowing his smoke into your mouth. he’ll give you a light peck before trailing kisses along your neck to leave some big ass marks in case any niggas miss the necklace💀
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grapejuicestyless · 5 months ago
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We Can Run Away
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: She was everything he ever wanted, and she was clueless about everything he ever was. And somehow, they understood each other all because of the subway.
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Harry usually wasn’t one to take the subway after a long night. Often, he was in some black van on his way to his bed minutes after he sang out the last note, the crowd still roaring with excitement from the set inside as he departed from the venue. But tonight, Harry was still wide awake after his set finished. Instead, he’d stayed behind, fixing things up backstage until the very last fan had left the arena, leaving Harry almost completely alone in the large space that was once filled with the love and laughter of anxious fans screaming his name.
So tonight, Harry decided to walk among the quiet folk and take the empty train back to where he was staying for the night. The subway only ran this late on nights like tonight. Nights where people were destined to be out late, living their young lives dancing in the pit and accompanying their children in the nosebleeds.
Harry hopped on the last train home, the emptiness of the car relaxing, his bag settled down beside him and a book on his lap. He found the atmosphere was a perfect place for him to wind down from his extended high, to tire him out and help him doze off peacefully tonight.
There was only one other person with him late at night. A young woman who wore frayed jeans shorts, boston clogs with bunched up socks, and the deepest red sweatshirt he’d ever seen. She looked like she wasn’t aware of the time, wide awake with a calm smile on her face as if the day was brand new.
The morning had just began to roll around, but darkness still covered the sky. Not even breaking three a.m. yet and still, she could have fooled him into believing it was nearly noon if not for the emptiness surrounding them.
She was no bother to Harry though, so he patiently flipped through his book, rereading some of the pages because his mind wandered off in the middle of the paragraphs and he couldn’t focus. But just before he decided to set the book down for the night and enjoy the rest of the ride, a soft voice spoke up.
“I love that book.”
Harry looked up to see the calm girl looking back at him. She had red lips and gentle eyes. The kind that pulled you in if you looked too deeply. The kind any person would trust blindly, and the kind that held a complex kind of innocence in them.
At first, he simply nodded, unaware of what he was supposed to say and not up for a conversation, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the captivating girl across from him.
“A Little Life, right?” The girl asked, persistently looking for a small conversation to fill the gaps of silence on the short ride across the city.
“Yeah.” Harry nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. “You have good taste.”
The girl simply shrugged.
“It’s a classic, right? I think everyone should read it at some point.”
“I don’t think everyone would enjoy it, it’s a little slow.” Harry commented, enjoying hearing the girls voice.
“Maybe.” The girl shrugged again, “But that’s what makes this one so good. It makes everything feel more real when it takes time for everything to crash down. The fall doesn’t happen overnight.” She defended.
“I take it you really love this book then.” Harry laughed quietly at the conversation.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
The train fell quiet again, but Harry couldn’t have gone back to reading if he tried. He placed the bookmark between the pages and instead took time to admire the way the book looked between his hands.
“I love the cover too. I wish I took that photo every day.”
Harry raised a brow, observing the cover more closely than he had before.
“I’m a photographer.” The girl added, and Harry hummed.
“What kinds of photos do you take?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“I mainly help with shoots for magazines. Vogue, Rolling Stone, Elle. I’ve been around the industry for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I help take photos for movies, which is cool, but mainly I just take photos for myself nowadays. You know, just letting my friends play dress up and creating the things I’ve been wanting to for a while.”
With the way she spoke about her job, Harry had not a single doubt that she held the most sincere love for the art she worked within. The kind girl talking quietly, but quickly about what she did and why she loved it, Harry wished she had kept rambling to him so he could have kept listening.
“What about you?” The girl asked suddenly, catching Harry off guard. He stumbled around for an answer before deciding on something vague.
“I work in music. I sing.” Harry nodded his head, watching how the girls eyes lit up in interest.
“That’s so cool, do you play shows ever?” The girl asked and Harry couldn’t help but bite back a laugh. He was sure he had glitter from his outfit he danced around stage in stuck to his face still and feathers from boas curled in his hair.
“Sometimes, yeah.” Harry smiled at the girls innocence.
“Do you play around here ever?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” Harry smiled.
“I’m just trying to pass time.” The girl responded quickly. “So do you?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, sometimes.”
The girl hummed.
“I’m Y/n, by the way.” She extended her hand, and Harry mouthed her name back to her after she’d spoken it. Just to see how it would feel on his tongue.
“I’m Harry.” She repeated his name softly like an echo as he took her hand in his to shake it.
The robotic voice announced the final stop, and Harry watched as Y/n stood in a way that mirrored his movements. He figured he didn’t mind the fact that his walk home wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought, and in fact, he found himself silently praying that she would walk the same way as him as they stepped onto the platform.
“I hope you’re not following me, Harry.” Y/n joked as their footsteps fell into sync, sweaty palms shoved into their front pockets and their eyes adverting each others.
“Maybe I just want to know more about you.” Harry smiled. He decided he liked the way Y/n made him feel. Like he was desperate for the next sentence to come out of her mouth. Like he needed to know what she had to say. But maybe he was just getting tired.
“There’s not much else to know. I live a pretty boring life, I think you’ll find.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I didn’t say there was.” Y/n smiled, and Harry found himself blushing.
“I think the quiet can be good.” Y/n stated softly, looking at the way her feet fell between the large squares on the sidewalk. “It can be lonely, and that can be sad sometimes, but I don’t really mind it if I get to keep my peace.” She explained thoughtfully.
“Do you think about this often?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
“When you live alone you have the time to think about a lot of things.” She responded, and Harry simply nodded.
“I like the quiet life too. It’s nice to step into the storm once in a while and see where you get dragged, but it’s nice to know where you’ll end up in the morning without a doubt.”
Y/n hummed at Harry’s response.
“I used to party a lot in college.” She laughed at herself. “Which is hard to believe now because I feel like my back was broken by a thousand bricks somewhere in my mid twenties but, I get what you mean. It was fun when it was cool, and when I had people I liked going out with. But I think I’d much rather prefer to know I’ll end up in my own bed in the morning.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the girl beside him. Her toothy grin and her crinkles by her eyes. Harry imagined her a few years back, he imagined taking her to all the best spots in the city he could rack off in his mind. He figured she would be the life of the party. She made him feel like the subway was some first class plane ride and the trash rolling beneath his feet was golden.
“Are you always this talkative?” He laughed softly.
She shrugged.
“My mom would agree. She said when I was younger I would talk to anything that had ears. Sometimes she’d catch me pulling the grass outside because I liked to braid it, and she said I would be talking to myself. But I always told her I was talking to the butterflies.” She laughed at herself.
“What about you? Do you always entertain strangers on the subway?”
“Well, we aren’t really strangers anymore.” Harry argued. Y/n smiled at him.
“I guess not.” She shook her head thoughtfully.
“I don’t, usually, though.” Harry sighed. “But you’re nice enough. Easy to talk to, I guess.”
“Anyones easy to talk to when they can’t shut up.” She joked, and Harry simply laughed at her for the millionth time.
“I guess so.”
As their laughter fizzled out into giggles, a warm silence wrapped around them, the humidity of the summer air sticking to their skin like glue. Harry caught Y/n’s eye every few steps, swallowing repeatedly as if by doing so, he would think of something else to say.
“Are you from here?” She asked softly.
“Somewhat. What about you?”
She shook her head.
“I’m from the east coast. The United States.” She said softly.
“Why’d you leave?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
“The city wasn’t for me. I wanted to live by a beach so I left to where I could find that. But then I guess that wasn’t what I wanted either. I think maybe I was made for the city, just not…that one.” She sighed in the middle of her sentence, like the memory of home was daunting to her.
“What about London? What drew you to it?” Harry asked softly.
Y/n shrugged, her eyes flickered to the ground.
“It reminded me of home without having to be there.”
Harry didn’t know what to say to that, but she didn’t really seem sad when she said it. Almost like it was some kind of relief.
“My mom said there was something really wrong with me when I was a kid, but I’ve always liked who I am.” She smiled up at Harry honestly, holding her hands in her palms.
“You know, I like that I can talk for hours, I like that I apologize all the time, I like that I’ve lived out my twenties the way I should have. I like when my bangs grow past my ears, and I like running because it reminds me of running in the park, and I’m not sorry because I love the girl who looks back at me in the mirror because she’s a collection of everything she’s ever loved and I think thats neat.” She ranted, a smile on her face the whole time, and breathy laughter escaping her lips.
Harry wanted to say something, to smile and agree that he also enjoyed her sticking around, but she had stopped a few feet back, her shoes wiping against a small brown doormat with no welcoming message painted on it.
“This is my stop.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Harry asked desperately from afar, like he couldn’t enter her space if he tried.
“Maybe.”
“Well, I really like the person you are too, I’d like to see you again.” He added, his words quick and desperate.
“You know where I live, Harry.” She stated simply, a smile on her face.
And it was true, he did. But she wasn’t on his way home. He’d passed his house a few blocks back, and somehow he hadn’t even noticed.
“What if you leave again?” He couldn’t help but ask.
She simply smiled.
“We can run away together.”
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cvnt4him · 7 months ago
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i would request monoma x reader bc I'm literally going crazy about him but idk-- OMG NVM MONOMA X KIND/SOFT READER
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BITCH ME TOO WHEN I TELL YOU HE FR GOT ME FOAMING OUT THE MOUTH LIKE IM A RABID ASS DOGGGG.
You know you wrong as hell for that picture tho.. bc why he look so goofy, bones js doing my man wrong this season😞
...........................................
*˖°My heart.°˖*
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...........................................
"I don't get what you even see in him, my love."
Mina scolds as she finishes crocheting your last butterfly loc into your hair.
It was 4 AM, you both had school in a couple hours and she had been doing your hair since 12 o'clock. Your head was pounding and was going to be throbbing for the next week. You can only imagine how bad it'll be once you put your hair into a ponytail...
You sigh from relief knowing that was the last braid you had to endure. She puts muse all over your hair, the soft yet cold air like foam covering your hair as she gently slides her hands down each braid costing it in the pleasant and calming scented hair applicator.
You stand and stretch deciding to just put your bonnet on without putting your hair up so you can just head straight to bed, not that you'd get much sleep since school started in like what less than an hour and a half? What's the point in even trying to sleep.
"he makes me laugh. he's a gentleman, he--"
"gentleman my ass."
She cuts you off with a scoff straightening up all of the things she used to do your hair, putting them away and washing the icky foam texture off of her hands.
"okay first of all, don't you ever in your life; he's a sweetheart, really he is. and I don't need you questioning my choices, you're like a sister to me so please for the love of God just fucking trust my choices for once, yeah?"
She hums and rolls her eyes putting her bonnet on and getting under her leopard printed covers. She sighs and wishes you a good night as you leave and head back to your dorm.
All you could think about while getting ready for school was how rude mina was. Sure he was quite unpleasant to your classmates but he's a sweet guy to you!! Well no.. he's just less of an asshole. You noticed that Everytime he would say some smartsss remark to your peers he wouldn't say anything even remotely bad to you. He wouldn't even look at you. It's like there was something about you that just made him go silent.
The way you looked at him however, that was a game changer. He would get all stuttery over his words and just get flustered to the point he'd live without kendo needing to assist. (Knocking his hardheaded ass out)
You figured he had a crush on you which you were completely alright with due to you reciprocating his feelings! He was so beautiful and rather charming in his own way. He was distinguished and quite dashing!!!
You had no idea how people could just say such mean things to him!!
You finish off your look with a silver necklace that makes everything pop so beautifully. Your many rings matching indefinitely. You wore a white turtle neck and a pastel pink plaid skirt with white opaque tights on underneath. Baby pink Mary Jane's accompanying your soft aesthetic.
Being in college was fun for you, the party's the sleepovers the random socks on other people's dorm handles. It was an interesting experience, one of the greatest parts about it was how you could wear whatever you wanted! No dress code, no uniforms just your own unique style!
You walked with a sway to your hips as you made it to your class, to your surprise seeing how there were different students there than normal.
You look around and see groans and laughter coming from somewhere, you turn your head out the classroom door to see some of your friend and peers angry and uncomfortable whilst a manically laughing monoma boasts about something.
Mina sees you and lights up nodding her head in monomas direction telling you in girl talk or whatever the fuck to "get your fucking man before I have kirishima walk him like a damn dog."Her eyes saying more than enough.
You chuckle which catches others attention, including monomas. He turns with a raised brow to see you, his eyes widening and a pinky tint slightly becoming visible on his features.
"hello, neito."
He clears his throat and turns to you dusting off his outfit and giving you a small grin looking to the ground, unable to hold eye contact.
"hi y/- ahem. Y/n."
His voice cracked whilst he tried saying your name instantly making him get flustered and asking a loud and entertained kirishima have a belly laugh.
Monomas turns to them and instantly shouts at them calling them "Imbeciles" and "incompetent losers" and such, the way he spoke with such sophisticated mannerisms was just amusing to you, even while arguing and being angry with people he disliked he still manages to not use foul language and be somewhat civilized. It's quite neat.
You giggle catching his attention again, he turns to you and bows his head lightly with a smile as an apology.
"what are you up to, neito?"
You ask with a tilt to your head.
"who me?! I- uhm-- y'know the usual, classes are just taking over my brain at the moment, haha!"
He jokes, making you giggle again. God you were so cute to him, the way you innocently giggled or laughed at anything, the way you dressed to adorably like an innocent little girl was oddly compelling to him.
"i see you've gotten your hair done. It looks very nice, y/n."
He says to you nodding his head to your hair, the way you had little sparkles raying off of it and how you had little star shaped clips in your locs just completes your outfit.
"awh thank you neito!! You're so sweet!"
You jump into his arms with a hug, snuggling your nose into his shirt. He blushed intensively, getting stiff and tense underneath your touch. You did such foul things to him, making him flustered and blushy like this. He never felt this way for anyone, he always wanted to be a hero and show everyone that he was just as capable of doing things his former class rivals could.
He slowly wrapped his arms around your shorter figure leaning his head down and resting it on your head, his nose burying itself into your locs and smelling the sweet smell radiating off of them.
It was an unfamiliar smell to him, yet it was so intoxicatingly sweet. Like he'd smelled it before, or like it was just something he couldn't resist. A smell he was sure he wanted to take over his senses all the time. For the rest of his life even.
The hug lasted quite some time, an angry kirishima faux clearing his throat to end the long hug. Mina rolled her eyes and nudged him, she didn't like monoma really, but if you had then she'd just have to thug that shit out. For your sake.
You pulled away first, having monoma realize where he was, which was not in a perfect mansion with a beautiful rose garden, white picket fence, and a golden retriever running around with happy and cheerful barks.
He looks down at you ass you peer up at him with beautiful eyes, the way they shine so brightly even without sunlight raying into them, the way you bat your eyelashes at him and smile innocently.
He blushed while staring deep into your eyes. Fuck he'd just imagined a whole entire life with you, making you his wife and you have his kids.
You were evil and putting him under your spell. Your evil, wicked, enchanting, perfect, beautiful, absolutely breathtaking spell. Wait what?!
He got flushed and hid his face with his hand as he looked away, his other hand still on your waist.
You put one of your hands on his neck causing him to snap his neck to look right back to your face. You look down at his chest and rub your other hand up and down it and slowly look back up to him. You smile and move your hand that was once in his neck to his flushed cheek.
He wss going to kiss you. Fuck he was actually going to kiss you, finally, after having a huge crush on you for all these years you were going to kiss him. He'd finally make you his!
"AHEM. So yeah uh, we have to get to class, right y/n? Wouldn't want kids to catch you guys Frenching in the middle of the hallway while classes are in right? Right?"
Kirishima interrupts, making up an excuse to get you away from him.
Mina face palms herself while pulling kirishima away from the two of you. Monoma watching while he gives kirishima an evil, shit eating grin. Kirishima was practically foaming out of the mouth like a raccoon with rabies.
You simply giggle before letting him go. No no no, that's not what was supposed to happen! Why'd you let him go?!
"he's right, we should get to class."
You say quietly, never taking a step back still being rather close to him, peering up at him with wide eyes and offering him a smile.
He sighs and looks away. He was extremely disappointed. Why'd that shitty shark toothed fucker have to get in his way? You were finally going to kiss him.
"but, we can hang out later, if you'd like."
"yes!-- I uhm.. yes, I would like that, if you would."
He answers quickly, before stumbling on his words and saving himself from eternal embarrassment, not that toud ever make fun of him. He was cute, and flushy. Most people didn't get to see him like that not even kendo. You were honored and wnsted to spend more time with him. So you agreed. The two do you made plans and agreed to meet and have lunch, he'd take you to see a movie and you'd go out on dinner dates.
He had so many plans for the two of you. And once you start dating you better believe you're not allowed to be around anyone without him, not that he's jealous.. he's jealous. He's so jealous, he hates anyone that's not him being in your presence. He loves you! More than anything and anyone.
He holds you with grace, being so gentle with you throughout everything. Making sure you don't have tod I anything, not lift a single finger. He holds you tight at night making you feel safe and warm. He loves matching with you, and eating with you, and doing anything to ensure everyone knows you're his. He isn't insecure or anything but he's not oblivious to the rather hot people that swarm your school. He has a hard time reassuring himself that you only have eyes for him!
You're so kind and nice to everyone it's hard to believe you're his girlfriend. Seriously, no one believes you two, but you are. You're his and he's yours. No doubt about it, he'd choose you over the world.
He loves showing you off, boasting and bragging about how cute you are, how you're his girlfriend and how no one can ever even compare to you. How your skin glows in the sunlight without any help. How you're so strong and are better than anyone who ever existed. You can be a bit of an airhead at times, he even teases you about it, but let someone dare say some shit about you, he's ready to throw words. Something tells me hes not the best at hand to hand combat..
Anyways, he loves you dearly, he makes sure to tell you constantly. He doesn't want you feeling like you're less than perfect. He has standard, rather high ones too, and you meet them to a tee.
...........................................
AN: this is x black!reader bc I js got my hair done and I've become kinda obsessed w him so. Yeah!!! I'm definitely making more monoma and tenya content bc they've recently been clouding my head. Anyways love laugh love monoma!!!
This is kind of all over the place so come back later for more and much better content including him.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Summary: Fast-forward two years, and the little Munson clan is celebrating Halloween with some old--and new--faces.
Warnings: allusion to smut, a lil surprise...
WC: 1.2k
A/N: Happy Halloween! A gentle reminder that requests for the TUI universe are officially open. And thank you to @rip-quizilla and @the-unforgivenn for helping me with this little blurb.
Divider credit to @saradika
Autumn has fully settled into Hawkins, Indiana. The sun sets a bit earlier each evening; green leaves become orange, then red, then brown, before fluttering to the ground and being raked into trash bags. A chill hangs in the air, not strong enough to create frost, but enough to warrant a layer of clothing or two.
Lucky for you, your Halloween costume this year is a long-sleeved olive green shirt underneath a sleeveless brown house dress, high socks, and loafers. Warm, cozy, and perfect for pretending to be Misery’s Annie Wilkes.
Eddie strides towards your shared bedroom, a Ghostface mask pushed up atop his mess of curls. He leans against the doorframe and lets out a low wolf-whistle. 
You roll your eyes and grin. “You’re so full of it,” you laugh, adjusting the straps of your dress where they’re twisting on your shoulders. “This is quite possibly the least sexy costume anyone could wear.”
Eddie tuts, pushing off on his bicep and shaking his head. “It’s not the costume; it’s the woman wearing it.” His lips tug upward in a toothy smile. “C’mon, give me a little twirl.” He moves his forefinger in a circular motion to indicate what he wants. 
You oblige, slowly turning and offering a 360-degree view of your outfit. “How do I look?” you deadpan.
“Like you’re killing for two.” He presses a kiss to your lips, his palms resting on your rounded bump just as they have ever since you’d started showing. Now that you’re in your final few weeks of pregnancy, he seems to find an excuse to touch it every spare chance he gets. “You’re sure you’re up for trick-or-treating? If you’re too tired or something, you can hang back. Jeff and I can handle the kids.”
It takes all of your willpower not to let out a disbelieving snort. If the two men are engaged in conversation, Harris and Ettie could be halfway to Timbuktu before they even notice they’re missing. “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Annie Wilkes wore sensible shoes, which certainly helps. Although,” you scrunch up your nose, “these are kind of uncomfortable.”
Eddie peers down at your loafers and immediately bursts into laughter. “Babe…they’re on the wrong feet.” He cradles your face in his hands and brings his lips to the tip of your nose. “Let me fix that for you, okay?” You sit on the bed while he crouches down, slipping off your shoes and placing them on the correct feet. “There ya go.”
“I can’t see over my belly!” You lament with a laugh, holding out your hands so your doting husband can help you up. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be more useful once I’m not pregnant.”
“I think growing a baby is pretty damn useful,” Eddie murmurs, thumb grazing your cheek, “not to mention how goddamn gorgeous you look while you do it,” he adds, a soft growl inflecting his tone. He would ravish you right then and there if Freddy Krueger himself didn’t appear by his side. 
“Is it time for trick-or-treating?”
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie jumps, snapped out of his lovesick stupor in an instant. His hand flies to his chest as his heartbeat steadies. “You scared the hell outta me, Har.” He takes a deep breath before answering his son’s question. “We’ll go as soon as Uncle Jeff and Auntie Viv and Ettie get here.”
Harris nods, the dark gray fedora slipping in front of his eyes. “I wish my baby brother could go with us,” he says with a sigh, swaying his arms back and forth. “When is he gonna be born?”
“Two more weeks until he’s officially due,” you report, gingerly caressing your bump and smiling. Harris has been asking about the baby’s arrival ever since you and Eddie told him he was going to be a big brother. “And then he’ll come trick-or-treating with us next year.”
He beams at this idea, bouncing up and down with enough energy to make you question whether he’s already started eating candy. “I...can’t…wait!” he exclaims, each word more breathless than the last as he acts like a human spring. “Do…you…think…he’ll…like…Skittles?”
Eddie places a hand on Harris’s shoulder to stop his movements. “Baby Brother won’t be able to have Skittles for a long time,” he chuckles, the dimples in his cheeks making an always-welcome appearance, “but if you wanted to share with me, I wouldn’t turn down some peanut M&Ms…”
“Nah, I’m good.” Harris says simply, turning his attention back to your stomach. “It would be kinda cool if he was born on Halloween, though.”
You wrinkle your nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to trick-or-treat with you tonight,” you point out. 
“Oh. Right.” Harris puts a hand on your bump and speaks directly to it. “You stay put until I get my candy.”
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Jeff and his family arrive thirty minutes later, clad in their Winnie-the-Pooh themed costumes. Ettie, held in her mom’s arms, is the titular character. Viv makes the perfect Kanga with a Roo stuffed animal hot-glued in the fabric pouch that stretches over her own bump. 
“That’s a good look for you,” Eddie snorts when Jeff walks in dressed as Eeyore. 
“Right back atcha,” Jeff retorts with a playful smirk. “You’re like a geriatric Ghostface.”
You and Viv share an eye roll at their juvenile banter. “How’re you feeling?” she asks you, strategically ignoring the way Jeff and Eddie are swapping insults. 
“Tired of being pregnant but terrified to give birth.” You laugh as you say it but your words are 100-percent true. As much as you’re ready to have your body back to yourself, delivering a baby is a daunting task. “How about you?” She’s due only one month after you are, and the two of you often commiserate about your respective pregnancies. 
“Exhausted,” she admits, right hand fingers digging into her lower back and massaging it. “Chasing after a two-and-a-half year-old while being almost eight months pregnant is not for the weak.”
Your lips scrunch up sympathetically. “I don’t know how you do it, honestly.” 
As if on cue, Ettie wriggles out of her mother’s grip so she can toddle over to her favorite uncle. Eddie scoops her up, and she greets him with an excited “hi!”
Tears gather at your lash line embarrassingly; the sight of your husband cooing over a young child has your third trimester hormones working in overdrive. You clear your throat and blink them back before anyone can notice. “Who wants to go trick-or-treating?”
Pillowcases in hand, Harris and Ettie cheer loudly as the six–almost eight–of you head out to take on the neighborhood in a conquest for full-size candy bars. You and Viv walk next to them; your husbands lag behind to lock the door.
“You ready to do this with double the amount of kids next year?” Jeff smirks, as Eddie turns the key and jiggles the knob to ensure no one can get it.
Eddie huffs out a laugh. “God, no.” He looks at his long-time friend and grins. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
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