#if i ask nicely will you consider stepping on me?

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 24: Nuru Massage

Eunbi booba make brain go brr. Now imagine her oiled up... brain go boom.

Length 1.6K

Eunbi X Mreader

You look at the sign hanging above you, “Nuru Massage.” You must have considered walking in here a hundred times, but each time, you decided against it. This time, though, you were going to go in. You wanted to see what it was all about, and after doing your research, you felt pretty confident it would be enjoyable, at the very least. “Welcome! How can I help you today?” You hear shouted at you from behind the counter the moment you walk in.

You look at the board behind the lady, noting times and prices available. “I’d like a massage, one of your hour sessions, please,” you say, pointing at the board. 

“An hour session? Alright, just follow me, and we’ll get you started soon.” The woman behind the counter leads you down the hall to a room at the very end. “She’ll be here very soon. You just get ready; there’s a basket for you to put your clothes in.” The woman shuts the door; you spend a minute looking around the bare room before beginning to take off your clothes. Just as you finish putting the last piece of clothing in the basket, the door to your room opens. Taking a step inside is a young woman in a thin white bikini.

“Hello, my name is Eunbi. I’ll be performing this massage for you.” She says with a bow. You stare at her cleavage, her large, weighty breasts immediately getting your attention. “What is your name, sir?” She asks while preparing herself and the room a little more. Eunbi presses a button, and you watch as an air mat inflates in the room's corner. “What is your name?” Eunbi asks again. You respond this time just as the mat is finished inflating. “Please lay down on the mat. I’ll be right over.”

You walk over to the mat and lie down only a few inches off the floor. You stare at the beautiful woman’s backside as she finishes her preparations and walks over to you. “As you know, this is a Nuru massage; we have a special blend of oil we use here,” Eunbi informs you, raising a bottle. “This is what I’ll be using today. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll begin your massage,”

Eunbi lifted the bottle, drizzling the oil over her body. She rubbed the liquid into her skin as she continued to cover herself. The bikini top Eunbi wore became saturated with the oil and turned translucent. Her nipple was visible, but that didn’t bother the young woman; it was a part of the job. Eunbi kept her smile on you as she put the bottle down and spread the oil over the rest of her body. You kept your eyes on Eunbi’s body, watching as it glistened. You got hard immediately; it made Eunbi blush. She crawled onto the mat, her tits hanging over your cock. Eunbi cocks her head to the side, a playful smile on her face as she lowers herself and her breasts rub against your cock, coating it in the oil as she presses her breasts together. You groan, enjoying the feeling of Eunbi’s soft tits slipping around your cock. 

Eunbi giggled but focused on her massage, moving over to your legs. She did the left first, pouring some oil along it before pressing her body against it and sliding up and down it. You could feel her breasts against your thigh as she moved along your body. Eunbi slowed down, moving onto your thigh and sitting on it. Eunbi softly moaned as she rode your thigh, her hips rocking back and forth. Listening to Eunbi’s moans made your cock throb; you desperately wanted to fuck her. The bikini she wore was utterly see-through now. 

Eunbi seemed to notice, too. She looked down and untied her top, tossing it to the side; she followed suit with her panties. You gulped as you saw her bare body in all its glory. Sure, the bikini wasn’t hiding anything in the end, but the look now was awe-inspiring. 

The young woman switched legs, coating the other in oil before riding it. You stare at Eunbi’s tits move as she rides your leg. “Is this to your liking, sir?”

“Yes, it feels nice.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Eunbi says as she comes to a stop, and moves upward, dragging her tits along your stomach before stopping at your chest. You’re eye to eye with Eunbi. She smiles at you. Eunbi moves to the side, placing your arm between her tits. When she’s near your shoulder, you can almost touch her slit, and Eunbi can feel your hand try to reach it. She always moves down your arm just before you can. At the very least, she compensated you by letting you grope her breasts when she was by your hand. You squeezed her weighty breasts; their softness was otherworldly. When you found her nipple, you rolled it between your fingers, making the young woman moan as she moved up and stretched it taut before finally letting go. The process repeats when Eunbi moves to your other arm. As you toy with each other, Eunbi slowly moves herself on top of you, her chest rubbing against yours. 

She leans down and kisses you, “I think I love you.” She says it suddenly, but it’s a rehearsed line. Of course, sex wouldn’t be allowed in a place like this, but if the masseuse and customer happened to fall in love, then it would be fine. It was a little loophole to skirt the law. You follow along, telling Eunbi you love her too as you place your hands at her waist. The young woman giggles, placing her hands on your chest before sitting up and straddling you. She takes your hands, putting them on the tits she knew you couldn’t get enough of. 

You were more than happy to have your hands on them again, immediately squeezing the soft mounds and making her coo. “Such a naughty boy,” Eunbi moaned. The young masseuse lifted herself, grabbing your cock and placing it between your bodies, grinding against it while you played with her tits. You pushed them together, lifted them, and watched them bounce as you dropped them. The look on your face entertained Eunbi and let you continue before eventually wanting to move on. She rose slowly and placed you against her cunt, lowering herself onto your cunt. She groaned as she felt your cock fill her pussy.

As she lowered herself, you unconsciously squeezed her tits roughly, making her moan as she took the entire thing inside her. Eunbi places her hands on your chest, leaning over you as she catches her breath. You let go of her breasts and watch them hang inches from your face. The temptation is too great, and you lean in and take one into your mouth. Eunbi shivers as you begin to swirl your tongue around her nipple. The pleasure only becomes greater as you grab her waist and begin to thrust. “W-wait,” Eunbi moans, the influx of pleasure making her weak. It was hard to hold onto Eunbi; her slick body made your hands move up anytime she bounced on your cock. It also made it hard to stay connected to her breasts. You eventually gave up on that effort and just enjoyed the feeling of your cock in her snug cunt, watching as Eunbi’s tits bounced in front of you.

Eunbi shut her eyes and moaned, enjoying as your cock wet deep into her cunt. Soon, you get into a rhythm, moving your hands along Eunbi’s body as you thrust, squeezing her soft flesh and making her moan. She cranes her neck as she bounces on your cock; seeing her so vulnerable fueled your desire for the young woman. You sat up and ran a hand down Eunbi’s back as you kissed her neck. “Ah, I’m going to cum,” Eunbi whined, her walls tightening around your cock. “You c-can’t cum inside,” Eunbi continued. 

You felt disappointed that she didn’t want you to cum inside her, but something told you could get something better if you followed along. You push Eunbi onto her back and continue your thrusting. You lean over and kiss her, holding onto one of her tits as you slide your cock in and out of her tight cunt. Eunbi’s whines continue to grow louder until she finally cums, her cunt clamping down on your cock, nearly making you cum. 

You manage to pull out at the last second and paint Eunbi’s stomach with your semen—the young woman softly moans as she feels her stomach have cum splattered on it. She breathes heavily, a small smirk on her face as she scoops some of your cum and eats it. “Did you enjoy your massage?” Eunbi asks, out of breath. You nod, feeling very relaxed. “Thank you for not cumming inside. If you ever come back, I’d be more than happy to treat you to a different massage, something much tighter. Your cock begins to twitch at the idea she’s presenting. Eunbi notices your cock twitching, “I guess you understand.”

Eunbi grabs your hand, leading you to the room’s shower, where she washes the oil off you, using her body on you one last time before your visit ends. You pay the woman at the front and leave the massage place, feeling happy that you went in and excited at the chance to have more fun with Eunbi. You imagine what the next experience will be like with Eunbi face down and her ass raised in the air.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

first christmas | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: the second part of the flash back to buddy & monkey's first christmas.

double the trouble masterlist

Christmas morning had arrived, and the faint golden light filtered through the curtains. You tiptoed down the stairs, the cosy warmth of the house contrasting with the crisp winter chill outside.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, your eyes widened at the sight before you. Beneath the Christmas tree, a mountain of presents was neatly stacked up, each of them wrapped in colourful paper.

The room seemed to sparkle with magic, it was the kind you had only seen in movies or dreamed about as a child.

"Woah," You whispered, your voice filled with disbelief.

Leah appeared from the kitchen, holding a steaming drink in her hands that definitely wasn't for her considering she despised coffee, "Merry Christmas, my girl." She said warmly, stepping closer to you.

You blinked, still trying to process what you were seeing, "Are... Are all of these for me?" You asked hesitantly, as if afraid the answer might be no.

Leah chuckled and nodded, "For you, and for Buddy," She said, gesturing toward your favourite little buddy, who was babbling happily on the floor, sitting between Jordan's legs, attempting to chew on wrapping paper.

Jordan grinned at you, "Go ahead and open them, little one." She encouraged you.

You were hesitant, glancing at the sheer number of presents under the tree, "But... But I didn't ask for any of this," You said quietly, your fingers brushing against the wrapping paper of one of the small gifts.

"Well that's okay," Leah said, placing the steaming mug on the coffee table before moving to crouch down beside you, "You've been on Santa's nice list, and luckily, he knew exactly what you would like."

You brow furrowed as you tilted your head, "There's so many of them-- Wait, he knew?" Your eyes felt like they bulged out of it's sockets at those words.

"Yeah, he's been watching you all year round to see whether you've been bad or good," Leah stated, her expression turning playful, "Clearly Santa thinks you've been good this year." She added.

You scrunched up your nose, "He still sounds like a creep," You muttered, making Jordan burst into laughter from across the room, "I don't know what to open first." You added, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"It's okay to take your time with them," Leah reassured you, "How about you over this side first?"

"Okay," You said, picking up a box about twice the size of your hand as you carefully tore into the wrapping paper, revealing a LEGO set. Your eyes lit up in excitement as you held it up, "Whoa, cool! LEGO! Thanks! I wanted this!" You exclaimed, turning to Leah and Jordan with a wide grin.

"There's plenty more to open," Jordan said, nodding toward the pile.

You dove back in, picking up another package, this one wrapped in a different kind of wrapping paper, "Cool! I love it, thank you!" You exclaimed, holding up the hoodie in your hands.

"That one is of my parents," Leah explained, smiling softly.

"Really?" Your eyes widened in shock, "I... I never expected it. Can I open the rest?" You asked eagerly.

"Of course you can," Leah said, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Meanwhile, Buddy had found her own source of entertainment: the discarded wrapping paper. She giggled and crinkled it in her tiny fists, clearly more interested in the noise it made than the actual gifts.

"She's more entertained by that than her presents," Jordan laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"We could have saved so much money," Leah joked, amused with Buddy's antics, "You're not supposed to eat it, bubba."

But you were too engrossed in your presents to notice, "Woah! No way-- I have wanted one of these for ages! Thank you!" You grinned, holding the box of a fresh Nintendo Switch, one that you'd been looking at for ages.

"Don't thank us, thank Santa Clause," Leah teased.

"No way. That dudes' a creep!" You shot back, making Leah and Jordan both laugh, "Can I set it up, now?"

"You still have other presents to open, but in a bit you can," Leah said, shaking her head fondly.

"Can I take it out with us? Please?" You asked, already planning how you'd show off your new toy.

"That's fine, just be careful, okay?" Leah agreed.

"Deal! Thank you-- Whoa, this is totally awesome. Cool, Mario Kart!" You exclaimed, holding up the game in your hand.

"Open the present on your right, little one," Jordan prompted, clearly knowing what it was.

You tore into it eagerly and gasped, "A steering wheel? Awesome!"

"Apparently this is the one that's top of the range at the moment," Jordan explained with a proud smile, "We asked the man himself, who was certain about it."

"So cool!" You said, your excitement growing with each gift.

By the time you had opened all of your gifts, you were overwhelmed with the stacks of presents that you had from Leah, Jordan and both of their families, "I... I don't even know what to say," You admitted, looking at Leah and Jordan with wide eyes, "Thank... Thank you."

Leah smiled, leaning down to hug you tightly, "You're worth it, my girl."

Jordan joined the hug, Buddy nestled in her arms, "Merry Christmas, little one. Welcome to the family."

"Are we there yet?" You groaned, slumping dramatically in your seat as the car pulled out of the driveway.

Jordan glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one eyebrow arched in bemusement, "We've only just left our house, little one. At least wait until we're on the motorway before you start complaining, eh?"

"But I'm bored, and the car is cramped!" You whined, squirming in the backseat for emphasis, you were sat beside Buddy in her carseat, making the space feel even tighter, "How much longer until we're there?"

"About forty minutes," Leah replied from the passenger seat, scrolling idly through her phone.

"Forty minutes? That's, like, forever!" You protested, dragging out the word with as much melodrama as possible.

"Time will pass before you know it," Leah said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at your dramatics.

"I don't think it will. I'm so bored," You complained, letting out an exaggerated huff and then leaned forward slightly, "I'm hungry. Can I have some chocolate?"

"No," Leah replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate, "You'll spoil your dinner."

"But I'm really hungry," You pressed, sticking out your lower lip in an attempt to look pitiful.

Jordan chuckled in amusement, her eyes focused on the road up ahead, "I'm sure you'll survive until we get there, little one."

"I don't think so," You countered with mock seriousness, "I'll starve before we get to Milton Keynes!"

Leah snorted, shaking her head, "You're being ridiculous. You literally had breakfast this morning. You'll survive."

"I'm not convinced," You grumbled under your breath, slumping further in your seat. Turning your attention to Buddy, you wiggled your fingers toward her sock-clad-feet, earning a squeal of delight from the 8 month old, "What do you think, Buddy? Aren't they being unfair?"

"Oh I'm sure she's definitely going to agree with you," Jordan teased, glancing at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at her lips.

You continued entertaining Buddy, making silly faces and tickling her feet, "Mummy and Mama are trying to starve me," You declared dramatically, "It's an outrage, right?"

Buddy responded with a happy babble and flailed her little arms, which you immediately interpreted as agreement, "See? Even Buddy agrees with me!" You said triumphantly, "So, can I have chocolate now?"

"My answer is still no, Menace," Leah said without missing a beat, her tone firm but playful.

"Ugh, so not fair," You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and slouching back into your seat.

You absolutely despised long car rides, and you definitely made sure that both Leah and Jordan were painfully aware of your feelings.

"Are we there yet?"  You questioned no less than 10 minutes later.

Leah let out an exaggerated sigh, "Not since the last time you asked, no."

"I'm bored!" You exclaimed dramatically.

"Hi, bored," Jordan quipped without missing a beat.

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious..." You muttered sarcastically.

"I know," Jordan replied smugly, "I get that a lot."

You scrunched your face up, "Urgh, you're so annoying, and I'm still bored."

"Hi, still bored," Jordan teased, flashing you a cheeky grin in the mirror as she strummed her hands on the car steering wheel to the music that was playing, and ironically enough it was driving home for christmas.

"Babe," Leah chuckled, shaking her head, "Maybe I should've gotten you a Dad Jokes book for Christmas instead."

"No need, love. I'm naturally gifted," Jordan replied with a wink.

"More like you’re naturally annoying," You muttered, earning a laugh from Leah.

"Alright, Monkey," Leah said, turning slightly in her seat to face you, "If you're going to keep whining, how about we play a game to pass the time?"

"A game? Like what?" You asked cautiously.

"How about the quiet game?" Leah suggested, her lips twitching with amusement.

You scoffed, shaking your head in protest, "That's lame! Can't we play something better instead?"

"Like what?" Jordan questioned.

"Um... I don't know, like 'I spy'!" You declared, your eyes lighting up.

"Alright," Leah said with a sigh, "You start then."

You grinned mischievously, "I spy with my little eye... something red!"

"The air freshener?" Jordan guessed.

"Nope!" You exclaimed.

"The presents in the gift bag," Leah tried her luck.

"Wrong again!" You smirked in amusement.

Jordan arched her eyebrow, "Buddy's coat?" She asked.

"Nope, not even close," You said smugly.

"Something red? There's not much else in here," Leah mused.

"Give up?" You asked, bouncing slightly in your seat with excitement.

"I do," Jordan admitted, using her free hand to scratch the back of her neck.

"Not yet," Leah said, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the road, "Is it that road sign we just passed?"

"Nope! You know, you're both terrible at this!" You teased, leaning back with a triumphant grin.

"Alright, what is it?" Leah finally asked.

You grinned mischievously, glancing between the two of them, "It's Leah's face when she's mad!" You exclaimed, dissolving into giggles.

Jordan burst into laughter, clapping her hands on the steering wheel while Leah groaned, shaking her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite her mock glare.

"You are such a little Menace sometimes, you know that?" Leah said, her tone affectionate even as she rolled her eyes.

“We’re here! Finally!” You exclaimed, eager to escape the confines of the car.

“Finally! I don’t think I could handle anymore of your complaining,” Jordan quipped, turning off the ignition.

“Cheer up, grumpy. It’s Christmas!” Leah chuckled, undoing her seatbelt with practiced ease.

“Yeah, Jord, cheer up. It’s Christmas!” You echoed Leah’s words, grinning mischievously.

“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll give you ‘cheer up’” Jordan retorted with mock indignation as she climbed out of the car, “Looks like your mum’s already waiting at the door. How about you get Buddy out, and Monkey and I will grab the presents?”

“Sure,” Leah replied easily, moving to unbuckle Buddy.

You, however, scrunched up your nose, “Do I have to?” You groaned.

“Come on, there’s not a lot,” Jordan nudged you lightly with her elbow as she walked around to the boot, “I promise I won’t make you carry the heavy ones.”

“Fine,” You muttered, taking the smaller gift bag Jordan handed you.

“Merry Christmas!” Amanda’s cheerful voice greeted from where she stood on the doorstep, waiting to welcome you all inside.

“Hi, Mum!” Leah waved as she lifted Buddy out of her car seat, expertly balancing her on hip while shutting the door, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Jordan shouted back in response.

“Oh, there’s Nana’s little princess!” Amanda cooed, her attention immediately on Buddy, “Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

Leah faintly smiled, “She’s been a bit fussy this morning, and she hasn’t napped at all.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda frowned, her arms outstretched, “Are we being fussy for your Mummies, hm?” She scooped Buddy into her embrace, cradling with her with practiced ease.

“Just a little bit,” Jordan chuckled, catching up to her with the presents in hand.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Amanda greeted you, readjusting Buddy her arms so she could envelope you in a warm hug.

You smiled slightly in response, “Hi. Merry Christmas.” You greeted, though, you were still feeling a bit reserved and shy despite the festivities.

“Are they here yet? Are they here yet?” A voice boomed from inside the house as Jacob bolted down the stairs. His excitement was palpable as he skidded to a stop, “You’re here!” He exclaimed.

“Hi, J. Merry Christmas!” Leah greeted her younger brother, but his attention was entirely on you.

“Monkey!” Jacob yelled.

“Jacob!” You parroted with equal enthusiasm, your shyness now completely revoked.

Leah gave her brother an exaggerated look of mock hurt, “Wow. Just forget I exist, huh?”

“Best friend already,” Jordan chimed in, amusedly.

“Come check out the new Xbox game I got for Christmas! You have to see it” Jacob tugged at your arm, his excitement infectious.

You hesitated, the sudden attention making you flinch slightly, “Uh… Can I?” You turned to ask Leah and Jordan.

Leah nodded warmly, “Go ahead, Jacob seems itching to show you it.”

“Dinner’s not for a while yet,” Amanda piped in.

“Come on!” Jacob insisted as he practically dragged you toward the stairs, “Wait until you see it!” He called over his shoulder, practically vibrating with excitement..

Amanda chuckled as she watched you disappear upstairs, “They seem to be getting along already.”

“Like two peas in a pod,” Jordan agreed, settling down the presents in the hallway.

David appeared in a festive jumper, his face lighting up when he saw Leah, Jordan and Buddy, “I thought I heard familiar voices,” He teased, pulling Leah into a hug first, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Leah smiled, returning the hug with the older man, “I love your jumper. Is that a Christmas gift from Mum?” She teased.

“Oh yes, your Mum brought it for me,” David chuckled, moving to exchange a hug with Jordan, “Hi, Jord. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, David,” Jordan replied, grinning.

David’s attention shifted to Buddy, “And here’s our little angel!” He cooed, tickling her sock-clad feet, “What’s with that frown?” He wondered, noticing the grumpy expression the 8 month old currently had on her face.

“She’s grumpy, I think she’s had too much excitement already,” Leah explained, amusedly.

“Oh I see,” David chuckled, reaching out to take Buddy from Amanda, “You want to come to Grandad for a cuddle? Oh, come here–  Are you having a good Christmas?” He cooed to the little girl in his arms.

“Yeah, we’ve tried to eat all of the wrapping paper of the presents this morning, haven’t we?” Leah cooed, gently stroking Buddy’s cheek, “I honestly think we’d have saved money just by giving her that.” She joked.

Amanda chuckled, shaking her head as they all headed further inside the house, “So, how’s it been so far?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay. We opened presents this morning, I think Monkey was a bit overwhelmed with the amount there was,” Leah began to explain in a gentle tone of voice, “But I think she’s liking it so far.”

“That’s good then,” Amanda smiled brightly, “Did she like the hoodie that we brought her, and everything else?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. She loved it!”Leah replied, nodding in agreement, “She’s obsessed with Shrek so it was perfect!” She added.

Jordan chuckled, “You should have seen her face, it was a picture.”

“And how’s little miss been?” Amanda wondered, gesturing to Buddy, who was wriggling in David’s arms and eager to be close to the tree, “Did she enjoy opening her presents?”

“Oh, I think she was more interested in the wrapping paper than her actual presents,” Leah joked.

David laughed in amusement, “Well that’s to be expected of course at her age.”

"Yeah, she's obsessed with anything that she can grab and put in her mouth at this point,” Jordan retorted as she began to take her coat off, “The baubles and the lights on the tree haven't stood a chance.”

"Still trying to eat everything, huh? She's just like Leah when she was that age. Couldn't leave anything alone," David quipped, shooting a playful grin at Leah.

Jordan smirked, "That explains a lot."

Leah shot Jordan a look of outrage as she took her coat off and hung it up on the coat rack just as Amanda chimed in, "Your Grandma will be arriving shortly. I think she's looking forward to seeing both of the girls again."

Just then, Jacob's voice echoed from up the stairs, "Monkey has just beaten my high score!"

You couldn’t resist a cheeky reply, “Can’t help it if you’re a sore loser!” Your playful tone earned a round of laughter from the adults in the room.

“Well it sounds like those two are having fun at least,” Amanda remarked with a smile.

Leah turned her attention to Buddy, who was starting to squirm and whine in David’s arms, “Oh what’s the matter, bubba?” She cooed, gently taking the 8 month old back from the man.

“I think somebody’s a bit fussy and wants their mummy,” David cooed.

Leah kissed the top of Buddy’s head, bouncing her lightly, “Come here, bubba. You’re tired, aren’t you? There’s just so much excitement going on today, isn’t there? Everyone’s coming round to see you!”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’ll be your Grandma arriving I think– Or maybe someone else,” Amanda said, heading toward the hall.

“I’ll go and answer it,” Leah shifted Buddy slightly in her arms, “Shall we go see who’s at the door, bubba? I wonder who it could be,” She murmured softly as she approached the door.

Opening it, Leah smiled warmly, “Oh look, it’s Grandma Berny!” She exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. Adjusting Buddy to free one arm, she leaned in to hug Berny, “Hi Grandma, Merry Christmas!”

“Hello, love,” Berny greeted, wrapping Leah in a warm hug before turning her attention to Buddy, “And if it isn’t Grandma’s little Christmas pudding! Oh, don’t you look absolutely adorable?” She cooed, gesturing to the outfit Buddy currently had on.

Leah smiled and offered Buddy to Berny, “You want to go to Grandma for a cuddle?”

“Oh, come here, darling,” Berny cooed, taking Buddy into her arms.

Leah glanced at the bags Berny carried, “Do you want me to take anything for you?” She wondered.

“Oh, if you could, thanks love,” Berny replied warmly, shifting Buddy slightly to give her a better grip. She turned her attention to the baby in her arms and smiled, “Are you having a good Christmas, darling? I bet your Mummies have spoiled you absolutely rotten, haven’t they?”

Leah chucked, her eyes full of affection as she watched the two, “She has been spoiled. They both have,” She admitted with a proud smile.

“I don’t doubt that for a second. Where is Monkey?” Berny asked curiously.

“She’s upstairs with Jacob playing on the Xbox,” Leah replied with a small smile.

“Oh I see,” Berny chuckled, knowingly, “Did she like her presents I bought her? Your mum mentioned you’d be opening them at home before you came over.”

"Yeah we figured it would be easier to do it all in one place to save Monkey feeling too overwhelmed, because this is all just so new to her. But she really did love all of her presents," Leah said warmly.

"I'm sure she did,” Berny said reassuringly, “She'll get used to it in no time, love. It'll just take a bit of time, won't it?"

Leah’s smile faltered, “Yeah, I hope so. It just makes me so sad that she's never gotten to experience this all before, you know?"

Berny nodded, her expression softening, “I know, love. But there are still so many years to make up for it.”

"Few years to make up for what?" Jordan’s voice chimed in as she entered the room/

"Hiya, Jord. Merry Christmas!" Berny greeted her warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Berny!" Jordan replied with a smile.

"I was just filling Grandma in on how this morning went with the girls opening their presents," Leah explained.

Jordan sighed lightly, “Oh yeah, I think it was a bit much for her.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling to the surface, “It just makes me sad that Monkey never properly experienced this all before, all because of that waste of space.” She said bitterly.

Jordan placed a gentle hand on Leah’s arm, “Careful, Le, she might hear you.”

“I just don’t get it,” Leah continued, her voice low but firm, “That man, honestly! He’s… He’s treated her horribly in the past. You can tell by the way she reacts sometimes.”

“I know, love,” Berny interjected softly, “But she’s a part of this family now, and we’re going to make it the best for her. I know you’re angry, but holding onto that won’t help anything now, will it?”

Leah exhaled deeply, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right there,”

“Exactly,” Berny said firmly, “Now, I need to go and say hello to your mum and dad. Has anyone else arrived yet?”

“No, you’re the first. But I don’t think they’ll be long,” Leah replied.

From upstairs, you couldn’t help but call out, “Jacob’s crying because he’s a sore loser!”

“I am not!” Jacob’s voice protested indignantly and loud enough to carry through the house.

“Oh, that sounds like trouble,” Leah muttered, wincing at the sheer volume of your teasing, “That’s my cue to go sort it out.”

“I think I’ll join you in the living room,” Jordan chuckled as she followed Berny back into the other room, “Good luck with that one, Le.”

You smirked as Leah’s footsteps approached, “What’s going on up here then?” She asked, stepping into the room.

“Jacob’s crying about the fact he’s losing his game,” You replied with a mischievous snicker, thoroughly amused by his sulking.

“I am not!” Jacob fired back, his cheeks flushing, “All I’m saying is–”

“All he’s saying is that he’s a complete sore loser who can’t handle it,” You interrupted with a cheeky grin.

“No, I’m not!” Jacob protested.

“Yeah, right,” You quipped, smirking at the lad.

Leah rolled her eyes playfully, “Alright, alright. It sounds like this arguing isn’t getting either of you anywhere. Grandma’s arrived if you want to come and say hello.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at Jacob with a smirk, “To be continued…”

“To be continued,” Jacob grumbled in response, clearly not over the teasing.

As you followed Leah out of the room, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze softening, “What’s he like, eh? Honestly, such a big kid sometimes. You wouldn’t believe he’s 19,” She joked, noting your distant change of behaviour, “Hey, you alright? You’re very quiet all of the sudden.”

“I’m okay,” You murmured, keeping your voice steady.

“Are you sure?” Leah pressed gently, stopping to look at you properly, “Listen, I know today might feel like a lot for you, and it’s okay if it is.”

“I’m alright, I promise,” You assured her, even though your chest felt a little tight.

Leah nodded, but didn’t move just yet, “Alright, well, if it gets too much then you’ll let either me and Jord know, yeah?”

“I will,” You said, your voice soft.

“Good,” Leah said, a small smile tugging at her lips, “Okay good. We just want you to have the best Christmas this year, Monkey.”

“I’m okay,” You hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I’m enjoying the day… It’s just… Well, it’s a lot. I’ve never gotten anything like this before, and now with all of your family… I’ve just never gotten to experience anything like it.”

Leah crouched slightly to meet your gaze, “I can understand it’s a bit overwhelming for you, my girl.” She said softly.

“A little,” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up, “But I’m grateful! It’s just… I didn’t expect to get so many presents. I’m just still trying to wrap my head around it.”

Leah’s expression softened even more as she gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, “You’re a part of this family now, Monkey, and you are so loved, my girl,” Her voice remained soft but steady, “You don’t have to try and wrap your head around it all at once. This is new, I know, but you deserve all of it, okay? Every single present, every cuddle and every once of love.”

You blinked, your throat tightening as her words sank in, “Thanks Le.” You managed to give her a small smile.

“That’s my girl,” Leah said, grinning as she pulled you into a warm hug, “Now, come on, let’s head down and see Grandma before she starts wondering where we’ve disappeared to.”

You followed Leah down the stairs, her hand still lightly on your back, grounding you. The warmth of the living room enveloped you as you entered, the hum of chatter, laughter, and the gentle crack of the fireplace filling the space.

“There she is,” Berny exclaimed, spotting you standing beside Leah, “Hello dear! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Berny,” You murmured shyly, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

Amanda approached with a cup of tea for Berny, grinning as she glanced at you, “See, Mum? She’s fitting right in, isn’t she?”

“Of course she is!” Berny declared, beaming at you, “This family wouldn’t be the same without her now, would it?”

Leah flopped onto the sofa beside Jordan, while Buddy was nestled against her chest peacefully asleep, “I told you, Monkey. You’re stuck with us forever.”

“Forever,” Jordan echoed with a wink.

“I’m glad to be here,” You couldn’t help but smile a little wider, the overwhelming sensation from earlier ebbing away as you settled amongst the warmth of Leah’s family.

"Oh, I'm so full from Turkey. I don't think I could eat anymore," Jacob complained, slumping down in his seat.

"I'll second you on that one," Ben replied in agreement.

"Oh right, well in that case then, I guess it's more pudding for the rest of us!" Amanda joked, knowing it would spark a reaction.

"Pudding? I always have room for that!" Jacob exclaimed, sitting upright in his chair again.

The conversation continued as you glanced around the room. Here you were, sitting at the large table with Leah's family -- her mum's side at least. You donned an emerald paper hat on the top of your head, the result of winning a Christmas cracker earlier. The joke you pulled out with it had been painfully cringeworthy, yet it still made you giggle. In your hands was a small whistle you'd been blowing occasionally, much to Leah's annoyance. She had already shot you several pointed looks, though the little smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

"What's so special  about this pudding anyway?" You asked, leaning closer to Jacob and Ben.

"It's not about the pudding, Monks'," Jacob replied, declaring his own nickname he’d given you for himself, "It's about the tradition. And the custard. Lot's of custard."

"Don't forget the brandy sauce," Ben added with a grin.

"You lot had better save some for the rest of us!" Holly called from the other end of the table.

"What time is the Queen's speech on? We can't miss that!" One of Leah's Aunts questioned, you were a bit unclear on their name though since there was so many of them.

"Oh, it's about to start-- quick, somebody find the remote!" Amanda exclaimed, her sudden urgency making you jump slightly.

"Has anyone seen it?" Leah asked, standing up to help look.

"Found it!" David called, holding the remote up triumphantly.

If there's one thing you had learnt about today, it was that Leah's family was very patriotich when it came to anything to do with the royal family, as they all clustered around the TV.

Buddy, who had just woken up from her nap, was wide awake and wiggling around on her playmat that had been set down on the floor.

At least yourself, Jacob and Ben didn't seem too bothered about the speech though.

"What was so special about a speech from the Queen?" You whispered to Jacob, curious to know what had everyone so hooked.

"It's another tradition," Jacob replied, "Though it's a bit boring, really, if you ask me."

"It definitely is," Ben agreed, clearly unimpressed.

"Shush! It's starting!" Holly hissed, glaring at the three of you.

"Geesh, so serious," Jacob joked, winding his cousin up.

Ben snorted, leaning over to you, "She's always like this when the Queen's speech comes on. One year, she even shushed the dog."

"I heard that!" Holly said sharply, throwing a napkin in Ben's direction.

"Shush, you three," Leah chimed in, sending you a pointed look, but you couldn't help but giggle even more.

The speech began, and the room fell into a respectful silence-- well mostly. Buddy didn't want to be quiet, with her tiny fits and infectious giggles, and seemed completely uninterested in the royal tradition. She was quite happy to babble, grabbing her toys that you and Jacob waved in front of her.

"She's got the right idea," Ben joked, laughing softly as Buddy squealed in delight, "It's boring ain't it, little miss?"

Amanda shushed everyone, but you couldn't help but smile as Buddy wiggled happily, oblivious to the importance of the moment.

"Is it over yet?" You whispered to Jordan, who chuckled in amusement and wrapped her free arm around your shoulder, "How long does this thing go on for?"

"It's almost over, little one," Jordan replied in a hushed tone of voice.

You were most relieved when the speech ended, as Berny turned to the group and sighed contently, "That was lovely, as always. A nice way to reflect on the year."

"Reflect on how I've still never made it through the whole thing awake," Jacob muttered in response.

"Alright, who's ready for dessert, then?" Amanda asked, standing up, "We've got Christmas pudding, mince pies, yule log, and Ben's favourite-- trifle."

"Trifle? I've got room for trifle!" Jacob declared, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Of course, you do," Leah muttered, rolling her eyes.

Amanda caught your eye and smiled warmly, "Do you want to help me serve, sweetheart?"

"Uhm, sure," You replied with a slight bit of hesitance, standing to follow her.

As you helped bring out the desserts, Amanda leaned in closer, "How are you enjoying the day? It's so lovely to have you here with us, you know."

"Thank you," You said, a bit shyly, "It's been nice. It's different from what I'm used to, but still good."

"I'm glad," Amanda said gently, "I know change can be difficult sometimes, but Leah and Jordan, I know they think the world of you. They're so proud of how far you've come."

You felt a lump in your throat at her kind words, "I'm really grateful for them, and for being here with you all, too... And, thank you for my presents. I didn't expect anything, I love my Shrek hoodie."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. We're the lucky ones to have you as part of this family now," Amanda moved her free arm around to give you a side hug, "Now, let's get this dessert out before Jacob starts to raid the fridge now, eh?"

The evening continued with more laughter and chatter as the pudding was served. Buddy sat in her high chair, clapping her hands excitedly as Leah fed her small spoonfuls of custard.

"You're going to spoil her," Jordan teased, watching Leah's doting behaviour.

"She's just enjoying Christmas, aren't you, bubba?" Leah cooed, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek.

As the evening began to wound down, you found yourself nestled on the sofa in between Leah and Jordan as the family gathered for a raucous game of charades.

"No, that's cheating-- You can't do that!" Leah shot out in protest.

Ben chuckled, "Why not? It's not in the rules!"

"Yes it is," Leah fired back, her competitive streak showing.

"No it's not," Ben scoffed, "Someone? Help us out here..." He looked to the rest of the family for their help.

Holly glanced over the rules briefly on her phone after a quick Google search, "He's right, Le. It's not in the rules that he can't." She added, sticking up for her younger brother.

"Since when?" Leah muttered in disbelief, arching an eyebrow.

"Since always if you read the rules," Ben quipped, smirking.

"Outrageous that is!" Leah scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, before it was time to take her turn.

"You call that a gorilla? It looks more like a constipated penguin," Jacob teased as Leah flailed her arms around.

Leah took the chance to throw a cushion at him, "You couldn't even guess 'Kangaroo' so you can't talk!"

You were starting to feel yourself growing tired, opting to rest your head on Jordan's shoulder, "You doing alright, little one? I know it's been a big day."

"M' okay,"  You replied quietly in agreement, not wanting to stir too much attention to yourself, "It's been the best Christmas I've ever had." You added, wrapping your free arm around her.

Jordan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "Good, you deserve it, Monkey."

You couldn't help but faintly smile, watching in amusement at the bickering between Leah and Jacob still about the game as your eyelids started to become heavier.

"I think it's time to call it a night," David retorted, motioning to the way you were practically almost falling asleep, "Monkey's falling asleep."

"M' not tired," You protested against the idea, but the way you couldn't keep your eyes open spoke for a lot of things.

Leah turned her attention away from the competitive game, her lips quirking into a knowing smile, "I think you might be right there, Dad," She agreed, taking a glance at the clock, "Alright, time for bed."

You would be spending the night in Leah's childhood home, so at least you didn't have to travel back to London tonight, considering Leah and Jordan had both had a bit to drink and neither of them could drive under the circumstances.

You groaned softly at the suggestion, not thrilled with the idea of leaving the comforting warmth of Jordan's shoulder, "M' not tired." You mumbled again,  though the sleepy slur in your voice gave you away completely.

Jordan chuckled, gently nudging you upright, "You can keep saying that, but your heavy eyes are telling us a different story, little one."

Buddy, meanwhile, was still awake, babbling happily on Amanda's lap, her tiny hands reaching for Amanda's face as she giggled, "I think this one's trying to pull an all-nighter," She joked, bouncing Buddy lightly.

Leah smiled as she approached, effortlessly scooping Buddy into her arms, "Oh, no, missy," She cooed, "It's bedtime, isn't it, bubba?" However, Buddy responded with delighted squeals, clearly not in agreement.

"Come on, little one," Jordan said, standing up from the sofa as she reached out to help you up, her strong arms steadying you as you wobbled slightly.

You sighed, reluctantly letting her guide you towards the stairs, "But it's still Christmas," You murmured, glancing back at the warm inviting living room and the game still going on.

"And Christmas will still be here tomorrow morning," Leah reminded you with a gentle smile as she followed, Buddy snuggled in her arms, "You're exhausted, you need to sleep, my girl, so you can wake up tomorrow and enjoy Boxing Day fun."

Jordan led you up the stairs, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, "Besides," She said with a smile, "We can't have our Monkey turning into a zombie tomorrow, now, can we?"

You mumbled a small protest, but it was half-hearted at best. The truth was, you were far too tired to argue properly. Each step you took up the stairs felt heavier, and the idea of the comfy bed was becoming more and more appealing.

Leah trailed behind with Buddy, who was still wide-eyed and squirming with excitement, "This one's determined to stay awake," She said with a small laugh, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek, "It's time to sleep now, bubba. Something tells me we're in for a bit of a challenge with the baby."

Once upstairs, you managed to change into your pyjamas with some help from Jordan, the soft fabric instantly adding to your comfort. You climbed under the warm duvet, letting out a small sigh as you nestled into the cozy bed.

"Are you comfy?" Jordan asked, leaning down to flick on the bedside lamp.

"Mhm," You murmured sleepily, clutching your stuffed animal close.

"Good," Jordan replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, "Good, I'm glad. Get some rest, little one."

Leah peeked into the room a moment later, Buddy now resting her hand on Leah's shoulder in a cozy onesie, her eyes beginning to flutter closed, "All sorted in here?" She asked softly, her gaze warm as she took in the sight of you snuggled up.

"Le... Are all these football shirts yours?" You asked, your curiosity slipping through your sleepiness as your gaze wandered around Leah's childhood bedroom. The walls were adorned with Arsenal and England shirts, each marking a moment in her career.

Leah chuckled, stepping further into her old bedroom, "They are," She said proudly, "Hopefully more to come." She passed Buddy to Jordan for a moment, leaning down to tuck you in properly under the duvet, "Sweet dreams, my girl. We'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Le. Night, Jord," You mumbled, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

"Goodnight, Monkey," Jordan whispered as she turned off the bedside lamp, her voice soothing in the quiet.

Leah lingered for a moment longer, gently adjusting the covers before adding, "We love you."

Just as they turned to leave, you spoke up, your voice small and soft, "Le? Jord?"

They both paused in the doorway, "Yeah?"

"Thank you... For the best Christmas," Your mumbled, half asleep as you could barely keep your eyes open any longer.

Leah's smile widened, her heart swelling at your words, "You're welcome, my girl." She said warmly.

With Buddy now dozing in her arms, Leah glanced at Jordan as they left her childhood bedroom, "Boxing Day's going to be chaos, isn't it?"

Jordan chuckled quietly, nodding, "Absolute chaos, but that's what will make it fun."

jordannobbs posted

liked by bethmead_ and 1,106 others

jordannobbs nothing better than the magic of christmas time and spending it with the ones' closest to you🎅🏼🎄✨

a day full of excitement for both the girls who have been absolutely spoilt rotten. now all tucked up in bed and ready to do it all again tomorrow! 🤭

merry christmas to you all, from the williamson-nobbs family x

View all 133 comments

leahwilliamsonn our two girls 🥹 they really have had the best first christmas 💗

view 11 replies liked by 110 others

katie_mccabe11 merry christmas!! hope the girls have a had a great day x

view 6 replies liked by 12 others

bethmead_ oh buddy's little face with her santa hat on! 🎅🏼❤️

view 10 replies liked by 22 others

jenbeattie merry christmas girls! is monkey still terrified of the man in red and white? 🤣

view 3 replies liked by 19 others

stephcatley spoilt girlies. we love you so much 🥹💗

view 8 replies liked by 10 others

© scribblesofagoonerr

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 ]

premise. having a party hosted by lando norris gets too chaotic. alcohol, colorful lights, and hard fucking drugs. you learn things about yourself but max seems to be perfectly aware of what he wants

prompt # ㅤfemale reader, submissive max verstappen, consensual drugging, touchstarved [ "Don't go… not yet, not now, preferably" + "Take it slow—shit! You're eager" ] tags #ㅤporn without plot, wc #ㅤ 1.34k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

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His skin was always too smooth. The way it felt light to the touch, innocent, soft, and addicting. When you move your body under an unintelligible rhythm, you yearn to touch Max’s skin. He’s right in front of you. The man embraces a wild side unknown to you when he moves. There is a light drunken step to him. He sways side to side and a loopy grin on his face, amused at nothing but himself.

Preserving control, you only get to wrap your arms around him. He’s not surprised by you. “Hm? Hi, baby.” His smile is sleepy but he’s happily becoming puddy in your hold. Pursed lips, half closed eyes, and blush red cheeks tempt you too much. “Have you tried the wine? They won’t tell me what fuckin’ brand it is… D’you think you could ask? We could have it at home.”

“I think what you need is water,” you laugh, he does too. You’re allowed to drag him away from the neon floors. He’s not wasted. “Let’s calm you down for a bit, yeah?” Max doesn't say no.

The intoxication only got his pupils dilated, body heated, and skin looking so fucking soft. You briefly rub your finger against the back of his palm, admiring his knuckles and his rough hands. It's not as soft as his body—his palm is, you mean—and it’s marked by the hours of racing and training he puts in. It makes him all the more adorable, you think. The man works out every week and yet you can still squish his stomach when you hug him from behind.

In the midst of a conversation, Lando joins. He wraps an arm around Max, clearly more drunk than your boyfriend. “Hey, man! How’s the party? Are we holding up good?”

Lando is laughing and Max is light enough that he is too. “Yeah. We are just taking a break for a bit—seriously, what is that alcohol, mate? It’s so fucking good, I’m considering buying it to keep.

“No, it’s my brand!” Lando shakes his head at a complaining Max. “Here, I’ve got something for you to try. No charge, mate. I’m like too fucking nice for my own good around here.” He pulls out two pills, forcing Max’s hand open to take them. “Take some, it’s great. You and your girl have fun with it.”

Max looks at the pills and to the retreating figure of Lando. Without any more prompting, you guess what it is. “Did he just give you drugs at his own party?” Max laughs at your blunt statement, shrugging. It’s almost obscene but Formula 1 drivers are always another breed, you always guessed.

How you end up in one of the club’s hook-up rooms (a replacement to the lounge chairs and the bathrooms, a completely plain bedroom) is almost a blur. Taking the drugs with Max, you both delve into the feeling of ecstasy and bad decisions. It's almost rewarding. Max is touching you up with warm hands and you're craving to fuck him into the mattress. Your head isn't in the best mindset. It's completely determined to turn Max over and make him your toy for the night.

The air in the room is clogged with arousal. With heightened senses, you both act like animals driven to instinct. He’s panting. The duvet under him is crinkled as he’s writhing on the bed, grinding his erection on your clothed pussy. Sweat slickens his skin, creating a sheer glow to his fucked out look. For a moment you think how this is bad, both of you are barely aware of each other and it’s like you can barely focus. The fucking pill is intense. Your body is heating up more than it should. Both of you are craving for each other as your heads fill with sex.

Your name in Max’s mouth sounds lewd. He places his hands on your hips, wanting to control the friction so bad. “‘ts hot…” he breathes, eyes unfocused and clouded. “Fuck… I need your clothes off. I wanna f-feel you. I need you so bad—“ his rambles are unintelligent as he rushes to take your top off. Your bra is unclapsed and thrown as he mounds it.

Max is thoroughly enjoying this, though he doesn’t look like he’s all aware of what he’s doing. “Max,” you say, “maybe we should just… stop?” The noise he makes sounds like it was from an injured animal. “Max, I think we’re a bit too out of it to consent. I’m gonna go get us s-“

“No!” His hands clench, almost painful. Your pained expression gets him to soften, sitting up instead to embrace you. “Sorry, no… Just don’t leave, please? Not yet. Maybe later—no, don’t.” He’s not making much sense. With his nose buried in your shoulders, he’s trying to take your scent in, “Please don’t leave. I want this so much.

“You love me, right?” He pleads. “If you love me you’ll stay. I wanna fuck you so bad, please!”

"Off," you demand, no longer feeling like playing nice. "Take off your clothes for me, baby."

He looks crazed. Max's lips turn as he grins, satisfied to finally get the release he has been itching for. You came here wanting to cool down from the heat building inside of you. Now it seems impossible to do anything but fuck. Neither of you seem to be protesting now. It's all hands on each other and begging for relief.

Both of you sit naked. You let him pull off your panties. He's mesmerized. Max's cock grinds against the folds, aching to be inside. "Don't. Don't put it in yet."

"Fuck... why?"

"Take it slow, Max." You're lying to him and yourself. "I want... fuck, baby. I need you to be patient for me."

Maybe it's the alcohol and the pills that's made Max more malleable than you. He's whining against your skin. With his hands behind him, he lets you do whatever you want. Your lips latch onto his skin, needing to taste him. He's soft. He's how you imagine. It's like you're feeling him for the first time and it's addicting.

Your cunt kisses the tip of his cock, almost engulfing. The warmth of your pussy is teased, dangled over his head. When you push yourself down, he moans out loud. “Yes… I love—“ his whines cut off his own words. Desperate, he wraps his arms around your waist. He’s whimpering against your body, in love with the way your pussy takes his cock. Little ah ah ah ah’s a repetition in his lax mouth.

Halfway taking his cock, he starts to thrust up. “Max…” you try to tell off. It’s met with pained whining. “Baby, take it slow. I wanna—hmph!”

Without getting fully inside of you, he’s already thrusting up. You hold onto his shoulders. Every thrust, he pushes further and further. The lack of preparation has you reeling, back arching and toes curling. Pain comes hand in hand with the pleasure. Max has his mouth open, completely addicted to the feeling of your pussy struggling to take all of him. It’s not wise to let a drugged Max try to take the lead. He’s all pace and almost no game, just a desperate mess.

“S-so good,” you manage to catch his words. “Oh God. Feels so good. I love it. I love it. oh god, fuckkkk~!” His words have turned Dutch, unintelligible to your ears. He’s holding your body against him as he uses you like a toy. The pistoning of his cock has you hearing your heartbeat in your ears. It’s overwhelming. Without anything else, your pussy gushes out when it orgasm. You can feel the tide of orgasm washing over you when Max doesn’t even feel like stopping.

Your hands caress his head. “Good boy for me,” that gets a particular hard thrust against your g-spot. “Such a good boy, Max. Gonna cum for me? Let it out, baby. I wanna feel you cum inside of me.”

It’s when Max kisses you did he cum. You know he came when his hips jitters, attempting little thrusts as his cock spurts out his release. The little jolts has his cockhead rubbing against the deepest part of you. It’s got your mind numbing where the drugs can’t reach. The right amount of dopamine hit you as his tongue wetly coats your mouth. You think to yourself how Max does not feel like he has soften inside of you. Briefly, you think if the drugs Lando has given you were aphrodisiacs.

What it is doesn’t matter. Max switches the position, ready to go again as he fucks his cum inside of you. This time, you’re just going along with it.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305 @mv1simp

FOOTNOTE ────── sorry if this one seemed a bit rushed ! was trynna do this and the thing i'm posting on christmas ! i'm going w/o my pc so i have to schedule these posts and this one came late. also, for some reason the original ask got deleted or was lost as i was starting to format it ? sorry anon ! but this one is for you and every sub max enjoyer. merry christmas eve ya'll !

[noira-l]

𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚙𝚜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: On the most romantic night of the year—December 24th—what should’ve been a simple mission leaves you walking home through snow-dusted streets with Gojo Satoru, a boy you’ve had a hopeless crush on for as long as you can remember. The falling snow and quiet glow of streetlamps set the perfect scene… until he casually asks if you’ve had your first kiss.

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — teen!gojo satoru x gn reader

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 — fluff

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 — really shy reader, pining, reader has a crush on Gojo, first kiss, romantic setting.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 1,5 k

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — Just a mini special! Consider this a small Christmas gift from me to all of you. I hope this brings a little joy your way. Thank you for being here, and Merry Christmas! c:

𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 — sia - snowman

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

"What a pain..." he groaned, his voice cutting through the stillness "Why’d we even have to do that mission tonight? Christmas Eve, seriously?"

The snow crunched softly beneath your boots, muffling the sound of your steps as you walked beside Gojo. The mission had taken longer than expected, and now the two of you were making your way back through the quiet streets. A thin layer of snow blanketed the ground, dusting the branches of the trees lining the road. Street lamps cast faint halos onto the snow, their warm light stretching out in pools along the empty path.

Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh, stuffing his hands deeper into his coat pockets as he tilted his head back, staring dramatically at the falling snow.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, feeling the way your cheeks warmed up despite the chill in the air. It wasn’t unusual for him to complain - if anything, it was part of his charm - something about his tone always made your heart flutter.

"It wasn’t that bad." you said quietly, your breath curling in the frosty air.

He shot you a sideways glance, his glasses lowered, white hair speckled with snowflakes. His scarf, sloppily thrown around his neck, billowed slightly in the wind.

"Not that bad? We could’ve been in warm beds right now, drinking hot chocolate or something. But nooo, we’re out here fighting curses in the snow like in some tragic drama."

You suppressed a smile, biting the inside of your cheek.

He had a point. The mission had been cold and tiring, and you were already beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping into your legs. Still, there was something... so nice about this. Just the two of you, walking side by side in the quiet winter night.

And the imagine of you with him, under a blanket, sharing hot chocolate as snow gently tapped against the window. Dreamy, to find yourself in such a scenario with him.

Well, it wasn't surprising, you had a crush on him since forever.

Gojo’s breath puffed out like soft clouds as he spoke again "Everyone else gets to be at home, watching movies or doing couple-y stuff." he nudged you lightly with his elbow, his tone turning teasing "Bet you’re sad you’re stuck with me, huh?"

Your heart stumbled in your chest, you gripped the edges of your scarf tighter, as if it might somehow hide the heat blooming on your face.

"N-no." you mumbled, hoping your voice didn’t betray the way you felt.

"Aw, come on." he leaned closer, peering at you with that mischievous glint in his eye "Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this."

"I—I just think the snow is pretty." you deflected, focusing intently on the snow-covered path ahead. The way the street lamps lit up the flakes made them look like falling stars. Anything that might help turn his attention away from you.

Gojo hummed thoughtfully, falling quiet for a rare moment "Yeah." he said softly after a beat "I guess it is."

His voice had lost its bratty edge, settling quieter, almost thoughtful. When you glanced at him again, you noticed the way his gaze softened, lingering on the snow-laden branches overhead. The orange glow from the lamps highlighted the curve of his jaw and the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You catch yourself looking at him, heart squeezed in your chest at the realization. You quickly looked away, afraid he might catch you staring.

"Hey." Gojo’s voice broke the silence again, but this time his tone was playful "Have you had your first kiss yet?"

You nearly tripped over your own feet "W-what?!"

Gojo snickered, clearly enjoying the sight of you flustered "I’m just curious. You seem like the type who’d get all red and shy about it."

"I—I don’t see why that matters!" you stammered, feeling your face heat up more with every word.

He grinned, watching you with that, stupidly handsome amused expression of his "Ohhh, I’ll take that as a no."

You huffed, pulling your scarf higher over your face, but the warmth in your chest lingered despite your embarrassment. You desperatly wanted to hide you face from him.

Suddenly, Gojo tilted his head, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur "Want me to change that?"

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart racing painfully in your chest "W-what?! No—I mean, I—"

The more you tried to respond, the hotter your face felt, your words tangling over themselves hopelessly. You became a blabbering mess. Gojo burst out laughing, his breathless chuckles filling the cold air.

"Relax, I’m just messing with you." he said with a grin, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

You slowed your steps, letting him pass you by just slightly. The sound of his footsteps continued ahead as you lingered behind, your breath visible in the cold night. You glanced down at the snow, your breath curling like smoke as it left your lips. The quiet was heavy, but it felt like the kind of silence that could shatter with just one word.

And it did, with one sentace.

"I... I want you to change that." you said softly, barely above a whisper, more to yourself than to him.

Gojo stopped mid-step, the snow crunching softly beneath his feet. Slowly, he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable under the dim light of the streetlamp.

Then, with a devilish grin, he leaned slightly forward.

"Oh? You really just said that? Bold of you. What if I’m terrible at it?" he smirked wider, tilting his head playfully "But~ I could go all out – twirl you under the streetlamp, dip you low, and make it look like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie. How’s that sound?"

Your face burned hotter than ever, and for a second, you couldn't even look at him. The thought of Gojo actually doing that- of his hand gently reaching for yours, his face inching closer under the soft glow of the streetlamp - felt like too much to bear. You think you're on a verge of heart attack.

"Forget it!" you blurted, your voice higher than intended. So many emotions mixing under your shy shell. You stared walking again, embarrassed.

Gojo laughed again, hands behind his head as he strolled ahead.

After a few steps, he slowed, letting his arms drop to his sides as he turned and stepped closer to you. You also stopped your steps.

His face hovered just a little too near. Intense gaze lingered on yours for a heartbeat too long, his bright blue eyes glimmering under the faint light, framed by delicate white lashes that catched the falling snow.

Slowly, he even stepped closer, his hand gently curling around your wrist as he pulled you toward him, the soft fabric of his coat brushing against your arms. Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn't pull away. You couldn't grasp what was going on.

His breath warmed the space between you. Then he leaned in, the tip of his nose grazing yours for just a split second before his lips met yours.

Oh wow.

He kissed you.

It was so shy, so soft, that it almost doesn't resemble his style at all. You dreamed of tasting his lips, which proved to be warm, plush and faintly sweet, like the lingering trace of candy or the memory of laughter shared on a quiet afternoon. The brushes of his pink lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning in without realizing it.

Gods, you're kissing him.

The heat from that though spread through your chest, making your heart hammer loudly in your ears, drowning out the world around you. His white lashes fluttered faintly as his eyes half-closed, and for a second, you thought he might pull away.

But no, instead, his hand slid gently to your lower back, pulling you impossibly close, and his kiss grew more assured. A little more intense. You rested your hands against his chest for stabilization, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. His heartbeat thumped faintly beneath your touch. Your head began to spin and you knees slightly bend from the sensation of his tongue against yours.

His arms tightened around you, as if he could feel you melt in his embrace.

You pulled away after a while, breathless, hearts racing wildly. That was the best first kiss ever.

"How'd that go?" he asks, his voice low and playful, but still mesmerized as if he was still savoring the kiss as much as you were.

You, completely captivated, red and mushy, manage a soft.

"Amazing." your voice wavers slightly, betraying the lingering breathlessness he left behind.

He chuckles, the sound warm enough to melt the snow between you, and reaches out to adjust your scarf with a gentle touch. His fingers brush against your neck for the briefest moment, sending a ripple of warmth through you despite the chill in the air.

"How about more of that… and some hot chocolate when we get back?" he suggests, his signature boyish grin on place, yet there’s a bit of softness in his expression that makes your heart flutter all over again.

You nod, unable to suppress the big smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

[delulustateofmind]

Get Ghost'd!

Sum: So you ghosted a guy that like really, really likes you, what could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Choso

TW: Yandere Behaviors (Drugging, Stalking, Obsession, Kidnapping, Trapping, Manipulation) Slight wholesome fluff? Older woman (5-10 years) x Gojo, Noncon smooches (Gojo), The girls are around 7 in this so young cult leader geto (Not as deranged yet but getting there), Choso's is more crack (Todo is mentioned)

WC: 6.1K

A/N: I was just only going to do Geto...but then I thought about all the other JJK characters that would just go so crazy if you just ignored them. No Nanami, because he's a good man and would respect it if you ignored him.

Bold of you to assume you could just ghost the strongest-

Gojo Satoru had left his number for you.

He didn’t usually do that sort of thing—relationships were messy, and he simply didn’t have the time. Not with the weight of his responsibilities and the constant demands on his talent.

But then there was you, Megumi’s sweet next-door neighbor. The one who went out of your way to drop off food for the kids, who somehow managed to fold their laundry just the way they liked it. How could he not leave his number?

After all, he was the brat’s caretaker now, their benefactor. And, well, he could be your benefactor too, if you asked. Not even nicely—he’d do it if you so much as batted those pretty eyelashes at him and gave him one of those soft, shy smiles.

So why hadn’t you texted?

You had the time to make food for the kids. You had the time to do their laundry. But not even a reply for him? Not even a polite “Please don’t contact me”?

He tried to let it slide. Maybe you were nervous, unsure how to handle someone like him. He was Gojo Satoru, after all. But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the sting of your silence.

He wasn’t unreasonable—he understood the age gap might make you hesitate. He was freshly twenty, probably a few years younger than you. But honestly? That should work in his favor. How often does a hot, young stud go out of his way for someone like you?

You should be relishing in his attention. Cherishing the fact that he’d chosen you. Because let’s face it—you weren’t getting any younger. You should really consider settling for him.

No—scratch that. You should be grateful.

And yet, here you were, acting like he didn’t exist.

The knock on your door came late, almost too late for it to be anything casual. The soft thud echoed through your small apartment, catching you mid-step as you were putting away the last of the laundry.

When you opened the door, you weren’t prepared for the sight of him.

Gojo Satoru stood there, tall and imposing, framed by the dim glow of the hallway light. His white hair caught the faint light, tousled in that effortlessly perfect way. His signature round glasses perched low on his nose, revealing piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow, unblinking, as they locked onto yours.

His hands were stuffed casually into his pockets, his lean frame relaxed, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his easygoing facade.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice as light as ever, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that made your stomach twist. “You’ve been busy, huh?”

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden appearance. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

He tilted his head, a teasing grin spreading across his face, his impossibly white teeth gleaming. “Satoru,” he corrected. “I think we’re close enough for that, don’t you?”

You faltered, searching for a polite response, but he didn’t give you the chance.

“Not even a little text?” he continued, stepping just a fraction closer. “I left my number, you know. Thought it was pretty obvious I wanted to hear from you.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the doorway felt between you. “I’m sorry—I’ve been really busy with work and helping out with Megumi and—”

He laughed, cutting you off. It was light, almost playful, but there was something unsettling about it. “Oh, I know. You’ve been making food for the kids, doing their laundry, running yourself ragged for them. But for me?” He leaned in slightly, his height forcing you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. “Not even a second of your time?”

Your throat tightened. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he said, voice soft but dripping with something you couldn’t quite name. “I get it. Maybe you’re nervous. Maybe you think I’m too young, or you’re just not sure what to say to someone like me.” His grin widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re not avoiding me, are you?”

The way he said it made your pulse quicken.

“N-no, of course not,” you stammered, taking an instinctive step back.

“Good,” he said smoothly, taking a step forward as if he belonged inside your space. “Because I’d hate for there to be any misunderstandings between us. I mean, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

His gaze flicked over your shoulder at the neatly folded laundry behind you, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “All this running around for the kids? It’s sweet, really. But you should be taking better care of yourself, too.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his presence pressing in on you. “I… I’m fine, really. I just—”

“Just need someone to help you out,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to something softer, almost coaxing. “You do so much for everyone else. Don’t you think you deserve someone to take care of you for a change?”

There was a strange intensity in his gaze now, an undercurrent of something far more dangerous than his usual teasing charm.

“Satoru, I—”

“I could do that, you know,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. His touch lingered, his long fingers trailing along your jaw just enough to make your skin crawl. “Take care of everything. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“Actually,” he cut in, his tone suddenly shifting, “I’ve been thinking. This arrangement? You here, me over there with the brats—it doesn’t make sense.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He gave you a boyish grin, as if what he was about to say was the most obvious thing in the world. “We should live together.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. “W-what?”

“Think about it,” he said, stepping past you into your apartment without so much as a glance for permission. His long legs carried him casually across the room, but the tension in his movements was unmistakable. His sharp gaze darted over your space, the faint scowl on his face deepening as if your cozy apartment wasn’t quite up to his standards.

“You’re already taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki half the time,” he began, spinning around to face you, his white hair catching the dim light. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, their intensity almost too much. “And my life? Well, let’s just say it’s dangerous.”

“Satoru, I don’t—”

“You’d be safer with me,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now, the usual playful lilt missing entirely. “And the kids, too. We’d be one big happy family. You wouldn’t have to worry about bills or working yourself to the bone anymore—I’d handle everything.”

He said it like he was doing you a favor. Like it was something you should have already agreed to without hesitation.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you managed, your voice shaking slightly.

His expression twisted, the easygoing mask slipping entirely as frustration bled into his tone. “Why not? It makes perfect sense!” he snapped, his arms spreading wide in a gesture of exasperation. “You’re already basically living this life anyway, aren’t you? Cooking, cleaning, running yourself ragged for them. But when it comes to me? Nothing. Not a single second of your time!”

His words hit like a slap, the bitterness in his voice leaving you momentarily stunned.

“I didn’t ask for that,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Well, maybe you should have!” he retorted, his lips pulling into a sharp, mocking grin. “You’re fine on your own, huh? Sure, because that’s working so well for you. You think you’re being independent, but all I see is someone too stubborn to accept help—even when it’s standing right in front of you!”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his anger pressing down on you.

He laughed then, but it was humorless, the sound cutting through the air like broken glass. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that? You run around helping everyone else, but you can’t even give me a second of your attention. What’s the matter, huh? Am I not good enough for you?”

“Satoru, that’s not fair—”

“Not fair?” he interrupted, stepping closer, his height towering over you as his blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You want to talk about fair? I’m offering you everything—safety, security, a life, and you’re standing here acting like I’m some stranger asking for a handout!”

His words stung, his frustration bubbling over into something meaner, something sharper.

“I’m fine on my own,” you insisted again, though your voice was barely more than a whisper.

“No, you’re not,” he spat, his tone venomous now. “You’re delusional if you think you are. You’re just making excuses because you’re too scared to admit you need me.” He shook his head, his grin returning, bitter and condescending. “But that’s okay. I’ll fix that for you.”

Before you could respond, his hands shot up to cup your face, his long fingers curling just enough to hold you in place. His grip was firm, unrelenting, as his piercing blue eyes bore into yours.

“Stop overthinking it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, though his words felt more like a command than reassurance. “You’re wasting time. I know what’s best for you. And it’s me.”

You barely had time to gasp before his lips crashed against yours. The kiss wasn’t tender or affectionate—it was rough, forceful, and far too intense. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, cutting into the dryness of them causing a ting of blood to pool at the skin, the pressure somewhere between biting and bruising, as if he were marking you rather than kissing you.

Your hands flew up instinctively to push against his chest, but he didn’t budge. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his grip like iron. Every movement was desperate, consuming, and entirely unyielding.

“Satoru, stop,” you tried to mumble against his mouth, but he swallowed the words with another bruising kiss. It felt suffocating, as if he were trying to imprint himself on you—erase any thought of resistance.

When he finally pulled back, your lips felt swollen and raw, your breath coming in shallow gasps. But the worst part wasn’t the kiss itself—it was the look in his eyes.

They were bright, almost gleaming with satisfaction, but there was something beneath the surface.

He licked his lips, his smirk widening as he took in your dazed expression. “See?” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a chill down your spine. “You’re already mine. You just don’t realize it yet.”

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to step back, but his hands were still on your waist, holding you in place.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he continued, his tone almost soothing now, though it carried an eerie finality. “You’ll see. This is what’s best. For you. For the kids. For all of us.”

His grip loosened just enough for you to pull away, but as you stumbled back, his eyes stayed locked on you, sharp and unrelenting.

“And don’t even think about running,” he added, his voice soft but chilling. “You won’t get far. I’ll make sure of it.”

Because Gojo Satoru didn’t lose. And you weren’t going anywhere.

I think I may have just ghosted a cult leader, how fucked am I? 

Geto Suguru sat in his living room, legs tucked beneath the kotatsu table, where the twins lay watching Ponyo for what felt like the hundredth time today. The familiar opera intro played, but he barely noticed it, he had lost count of how many times he'd have to endure it. His sleek, dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, the ends brushing the fabric of his yukata, and a faint shadow from his sharp cheekbones danced across his face in the flickering light.

The DVD would end up in the highest cabinet soon, stored away with the Sailor Moon box set. Only to pretend later on that he has no idea of where the discs went, that the twins should really take better care of their things.

His tea sat untouched on the table, long gone cold as he stared at his phone. Three days since you’d last messaged him. Four since he’d seen you. His dark eyes, always so calculating and composed, narrowed slightly as he swiped through the unread threads of his polite but unanswered messages. He told himself it was fine, that you were busy, but the creeping unease in his chest said otherwise.

Being ignored was new to him, something he hadn’t experienced in years. Women had always sought him out, drawn by the quiet intensity of his gaze, the sharp elegance of his jawline, and the magnetic calm that seemed to follow him like a shadow. They threw themselves at him, eager for a glance, a touch, a word.

But you? You were different. Sweet, shy, and delicate. A part of him had loved that about you. Now it gnawed at him.

Had you used him?

The thought was intrusive, bitter, but it refused to leave. He’d erased your debt, lifted the curse that had plagued you, welcomed you into his home—and into his life. He’d done it all for you, because your smile had been enough. The way it softened your features and brightened your eyes—he couldn’t forget it. You made the darkness in his world feel lighter.

But maybe it wasn’t enough for you.

Maybe you’d only stayed because you owed him. Maybe, now that you were free, you saw no reason to stay.

His hands tightened into fists, the phone shaking slightly in his grasp.

Staring at his phone, he reread the messages he’d sent you over the past few days:

"Hope you got home safe." "The snow’s falling. The girls have been asking when you’ll come over for hot cocoa." "Good morning. Please eat well." "Did you drink water today?"

What he wanted to send was, "Was the kiss too much?"

But every time he typed it out, his thumb hovered over the send button before deleting it. He’d even tried adding an emoji once, only to groan in frustration. Giving up, he reached for the twins, pulling them into a big hug. Their squeals of delight momentarily distracted him as he tickled their sides before letting them go. They returned to their movie, leaving him on the floor, still staring at his phone.

Why did you look at him with those wide, innocent eyes when he cradled your cheek and kissed you goodbye? Why did you press your warm hands against his chest, trembling as you murmured, “We shouldn’t”?

We definitely should, was all he wanted to say.

He had wanted to kiss you ever since that day you ended up babysitting the girls in his apartment. The kitchen was filled with laughter as Nanako sat on the counter, mixing a bowl of cupcake batter, while Mimiko dozed in your arms. You worked together to bake cookies, the domestic scene so painfully perfect it left an impression he couldn’t shake.

You’d cook for him on nights when he came home late, too busy with cult duties to eat. Sometimes you’d bring a spoon to his lips, letting him taste-test your dishes, though they never needed anything. They were always perfect—just like you.

You should have stayed.

You should have realized how much he needed you, how much the girls needed you.

And yet, deep down, he knew why you might not.

You were a non-sorcerer.

The thought of it, the implications of it, only deepened his frustration. How could you fit into his new world—a world built to eliminate people like you? People who didn’t understand the true horrors of jujutsu, who were blind to the curses lurking in the shadows. His grand plan, his vision for a better, cleaner world, was supposed to make everything simpler. Sorcerers would rule, and the weak would fall away.

But you…

You were the exception.

Suguru hated that about himself, hated that he would allow one tiny thread to unravel the tapestry he’d been weaving. You didn’t belong in the world he was building, yet you were the one piece he couldn’t let go of.

How could he protect you in a world where the strong would reign? Where weakness—your weakness—would be punished?

The memory of your laugh cut through the haze of his thoughts. It had been so genuine, so sweet, so human. You didn’t belong in his plans, and yet you did. You had to.

Because without you, his grand vision felt hollow. Without you, there was only emptiness.

His jaw clenched as the realization solidified. You didn’t understand it yet, but he was doing this for you. For the girls. For all of them. But mostly, for himself.

He would protect you from the world he was creating. No one would touch you. No one would harm you. You’d live in safety, as his. His alone.

The phone screen lit up, mocking him with your silence. He could see when you read his messages. That was the cruelest part. You weren’t gone. You were ignoring him.

He rubbed a hand over his face, the smooth planes of his features momentarily obscured as he exhaled through gritted teeth. Maybe he’d been too soft with you. Maybe you thought you could just walk away now that the curse was gone, now that you didn’t owe him anything.

But you were wrong. You owed him everything.

The girls needed a mother. He needed you. The thought of you living a life without him, smiling for someone else, was unbearable. His lips twisted into a bitter smile as he typed out another message.

"The girls miss you.""I miss you."

Suguru’s thumb hovered over the send button, his jaw tightening as he debated. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he erased the message. Words wouldn’t be enough. Not anymore.

You needed a reminder.

He picked up his phone again, this time dialing. His assistant, Manami, answered on the second ring, her tone eager—too eager, though he ignored it. Manami had always looked at him in a way that suggested she wanted more than her job description entailed. A part of him in the past would humor the affection. Yet, now he has you. .

“I need you to watch the girls,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll be out for a while, picking up a... gift for them.”

Manami didn’t question him, though her tone softened, as though she thought he was doing something noble. If only she knew.

As he ended the call, his gaze shifted to the cult’s records, neatly organized and as precise as always. He was thankful for the meticulous documentation; it gave him everything he needed. Not just your number, but your address, your emergency contacts, your employment details—more than enough to find you.

Suguru let his fingers trace the edge of the file, his dark eyes scanning the information. Every detail about you, laid out in front of him. You had no idea how easily you could be found.

You could try to run, try to disappear—but you were his from now on.

Grabbing his coat, Suguru stepped out into the snow, the icy wind stinging his face. Words had failed; now he’d remind you. 

The soft glow from your apartment window illuminated the snow-covered street. He didn’t knock when he reached your door. He didn’t need to. The door yielded easily, and he slipped inside, the faint warmth of your home wrapping around him. The contrast between the cold air outside and the heat within was sharp, almost dizzying, but he welcomed it.

The sound of your soft, uneven breaths reached his ears before he saw you. There you were, standing in the kitchen, a cup of tea clutched in your hands. Your shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on your forehead despite the winter chill. He noticed the trembling in your hands, the red tinge to your nose, and the way your other hand clutched at your chest when you coughed—a deep, rattling sound that made his brow furrow for a fleeting moment.

You looked pale, worn down, and fragile. For a moment, the sight almost softened him. Almost.

Almost made him forget why he was there. Forget the punishments he had planned. The ways he would teach you to never leave him again.

But that fleeting moment of pity was snuffed out as quickly as it came, replaced by a darker, more resolute purpose.

You had to learn.

You had to understand what it meant to belong to him.

Suguru’s fingers flexed at his sides, his mind racing through the plans he had already set in motion. He would remind you of his power—show you what a real curse user was capable of. That as sweet as he can be, he can also be cruel.

If fear wasn’t enough, he had other methods. He had already prepared the sedatives, carefully measured and tucked into his coat pocket. Once the fight left your eyes—and it would—he would take you home.

Home, where you would learn your role.

You would become the mother the girls needed. His law was absolute in their eyes, and soon it would be the same for you.

And if you resisted? If you dared to reject him, even after all he’d done for you?

Suguru’s lips twitched into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t want to think about that outcome, but he’d already considered it. Conditioned responses. Physical reminders. Unsavory methods. Honestly, he didn't want to hurt you. However, he needed you. The girls needed you.

No matter what it took, you would learn to stay. To belong.

Then you turned and saw him.

The teacup slipped from your hands, shattering against the floor. The sharp sound echoed in the tense silence that followed, but Suguru didn’t flinch. He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his expression unreadable.

“Ah,” he murmured, his voice soft and lilting, as though he were speaking to a child. “You’re sick.”

He stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate, and predatory. The sight of your wide, fearful eyes only spurred him on.

“Too sick,” he continued, his tone warm but laced with an edge of mockery, “to even send me a little message?”

You stumbled back, your breath hitching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Your pale skin, the feverish flush to your cheeks, and the way you clutched at your chest as another cough wracked your body only made you seem more breakable.

Suguru stopped just a few steps away, watching as you trembled, your fear and exhaustion painting you as something delicate—something his.

“You’ve been suffering all alone,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, soothing hum. He reached out, his fingers brushing your wrist before curling around it with surprising gentleness.

“But don’t worry,” he murmured, leaning closer until his breath ghosted over your fevered skin. “I’m here now.”

He let his thumb stroke the inside of your wrist, his gaze unrelenting as his other hand moved to your cheek. The touch was soft, reverent even, but his dark eyes betrayed him, gleaming with something that made your stomach churn, something that sent shivers that weren’t from your cold.

“You’ve been making bad decisions, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice soft and sweet, though his words cut like glass. “Running yourself ragged. Avoiding me.”

His fingers tightened slightly around your wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to make his control clear as you pathetically attempted to pull away.

“But it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’ll take care of everything now.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, his voice dripping with false kindness, “All you have to do is listen. Obey. I really didn’t want to have to go this route.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. His breath was warm against your fevered skin, his tone deceptively soft, as though he were doing you a favor.

You had never thought he was this interested in you. Suguru Geto was composed, almost aloof in how he carried himself—sharp features that seemed carved from stone, softened only by the flowing darkness of his hair. He had always been polite, controlled, and even gentle in his mannerisms, but you’d never felt singled out by his attention. Never thought the kindness in his deep, almond-shaped eyes was anything more than surface-level.

But now, as those same eyes pinned you in place, you realized how mistaken you’d been. His presence felt suffocating, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name, and every movement he made was deliberate—calculated.

Suguru straightened slowly, his hand slipping from your wrist to his pocket, his movements unhurried and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. The room felt unbearably small under his presence, the heat of his gaze making your fevered skin prickle. His dark eyes never left yours, their intensity weighing down on you, as if he could see through the fragile walls of your thoughts.

When his fingers brushed the familiar shape of the syringe tucked into his coat pocket, his smile widened. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—a slight curve of his lips that revealed nothing of the storm swirling beneath his calm exterior. There it was—his failsafe. The assurance that you wouldn’t resist him any longer.

Your gaze flickered between his face and his hand, confusion and fear swimming in your fevered, glassy eyes. You wanted to protest, to push him away, but your body betrayed you. The trembling in your limbs, the bone-deep exhaustion, and the subtle pull of his voice, coaxing and unyielding, made it impossible to act.

Then, instinctively, you leaned into his touch, your trembling body seeking comfort, seeking something you didn’t understand. To him, it was perfect.

His hand, warm and firm, cupped your cheek as though you were fragile porcelain. The juxtaposition of his gentleness and the dark glint in his eyes made your stomach churn. He tilted his head slightly, the smooth cascade of his hair framing his face like a curtain, and his gaze softened, almost tender, as though he were truly savoring the moment.

Like the sweet lamb you were, you stepped willingly into the lion’s den.

“You’re coming home,” he said softly, his tone a mixture of mockery and affection. The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and inescapable, and you barely had time to comprehend them before you felt the sharp prick of the needle pierce your skin.

A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was fleeting. The sedative coursed through your veins almost immediately, your body surrendering to the pull of unconsciousness.

Suguru caught you effortlessly as you fell, his arms wrapping around your limp form with an ease that betrayed just how much he had anticipated this moment. He cradled you against his chest with a gentleness that felt almost loving, the steady beat of his heart contrasting with the sinister gleam in his eyes.

“There we go,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as though you were something precious. “Let’s get you home, Sweetheart.”

What the hell does ghosting even mean? What does spamming even mean? Poor fella is trying to figure out life. 

Now you had given poor Choso your number. Really, truly a mistake on your part. 

You thought he was hot—mysteriously so, with his brooding gaze and those face tattoos that made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t a big deal, just a spur-of-the-moment thing when you spotted him at the bookstore while out with friends. You’d caught his eye, flashed him a smile, and casually slipped him your number on a whim.

What you didn’t realize was that poor Choso didn’t really know what to do with it.

For him, it was monumental. You didn’t just hand over your number; you handed over your heart. At least, that’s what Todo told him when Choso, unsure what the gesture meant, hesitantly sought advice. He couldn’t just ask his little brother these things, so he went to the expert about these things! After all, Todo was dating an idol! 

“She must be madly in love with you!” Todo had declared with his usual bombastic enthusiasm, clapping Choso on the shoulder so hard it nearly made him topple. “To give you her number without even talking? That’s destiny, brother! Love at first sight!”

And Choso believed him. Why wouldn’t he? Todo seemed confident, experienced.

So Choso, armed with Todo’s wisdom, started texting you.

And texting.

And texting.

At first, they were awkwardly sweet messages:

Choso: Hey. It’s Choso. From the bookstore. You gave me your number.Choso: Are you free to talk? I want to know more about you.

But then they kept coming.

Choso: Do you like horror books? Or romance? I can read both if you do.Choso: I saw a cat today. It reminded me of you.Choso: Do you like cats? I mean, not that you look like one. But you’re soft. Wait, not that I know if you’re soft. You just seem soft.

And then they started to come faster, his nervous overthinking spilling into endless walls of text.

Choso: Did I say something wrong? Are you upset with me?Choso: I hope I’m not bothering you. I just… I think we’d be good together.Choso: Please text me back. I can wait.

What Choso didn’t realize was that spamming someone all day wasn’t exactly endearing—it was overwhelming. But in his mind, the silence meant something entirely different.

“Todo,” Choso said one evening, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, his phone clutched in both hands. His dark brows furrowed as he stared at the unanswered messages. “She hasn’t responded. Do you think… do you think she’s playing hard to get?”

Todo grinned, throwing an arm around Choso’s shoulders. “Absolutely, brother! She’s testing your devotion. This is how women work. They want to see if you’re truly worthy.”

Choso nodded solemnly, his determination renewed. “I’ll show her. I’ll show her I’m serious.”

His solution? Doubling down.

When texting didn’t work, he tried calling. His voice shook the first few times—it felt so intimate, so real.

“Hi,” he murmured into the phone one evening after your voicemail picked up again. “It’s me. Choso. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you (the poor guy has only seen you one time). I mean—I know we haven’t talked much, but I miss you anyway (you have only exchanged names by the way). I think about you a lot. Please call me back when you can.”

And when the calls didn’t work, his thoughts began to spiral.

Was something wrong? Were you hurt? He’d seen it on TV—people ghosted because they couldn’t bring themselves to tell someone they were in trouble. Yes, that must be it.

So he started showing up.

First, it was just near the bookstore where he’d met you, hoping to “bump into” you. Then he wandered around the streets, retracing the route he thought you might take home.

Finally, he remembered the faint logo on your shopping bag that day, the one with your number scrawled on the receipt of. He found the shop, waited outside it for hours, hoping for a glimpse of you.

When he didn’t see you, his concern grew.

“Todo,” he said again one night, pacing his living room, his fingers tightening around his phone. “I don’t think she’s okay. She wouldn’t just ignore me like this. Not if she loved me.”

Todo shrugged, flipping through a magazine. “Maybe you need to show her how much you care. Do something big. Romantic.”

Choso froze, considering the advice. Todo was right. He just needed to show you.

And so, as you walked into your apartment the next evening, juggling groceries in both arms, you froze at the sight of a figure standing awkwardly in your living room.

“Choso?” you gasped, your heart leaping into your throat.You were already reaching for your phone. “How did you—”

He turned to you, a hesitant smile on his lips, his hands holding a bouquet of slightly wilted flowers. His dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of nervousness and relief, as if he were genuinely happy to see you.

“I was worried,” he said softly, stepping toward you. “You weren’t answering… so I thought I’d come check on you.” You had never given him your address. You had only given him your family name. 

You stared at him, your mind racing, caught somewhere between shock and fear.

Choso tilted his head, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Did I… do something wrong?”

You stared at Choso, your groceries still in your arms, the door half-open behind you. He didn’t move any closer, but the sight of him standing there, so out of place in your living room, sent a chill down your spine.

“How… how did you get in here?” you managed, your voice trembling.

Choso blinked, tilting his head slightly as if you’d asked him a question he didn’t understand. “Your lock wasn’t very secure,” he said simply, holding up what looked like a slim piece of metal. “I was worried. You haven’t been responding, and I thought something might have happened to you.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost disarming, but the implication of his words made your skin crawl.

“Choso,” you said slowly, setting the groceries down on the counter and keeping the island between you as a buffer, “you can’t just… break into someone’s home.”

His brows furrowed, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “I wasn’t breaking in,” he said softly, almost as if the accusation hurt him. “I just needed to make sure you were okay. You haven’t been answering me, and I thought…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced at the flowers in his hands, his grip tightening slightly around the stems.

“I’ve been busy,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “You didn’t need to do this. I’m fine.”

“But you’re not,” he said quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours. There was an intensity in his gaze, like he truly believed every word he was saying. “You’re not fine. If you were, you would’ve answered me. Something must be wrong.”

“No, Choso,” you said firmly, taking a deep breath. “I wasn’t ignoring you because something’s wrong. I’ve just been busy with work and other things. And honestly… you’re sending way too many messages. It’s overwhelming.”

His face fell, the fragile hope in his expression crumbling. “Overwhelming?” he echoed, as if the word were foreign to him. “But I thought… I thought you wanted me to care about you.”

You hesitated, the raw vulnerability in his voice making your stomach twist. “Choso, I gave you my number because I thought you seemed nice. That’s all. I didn’t mean for this to… to go this far.”

He stared at you, unblinking, as if trying to process your words. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, he spoke, his voice trembling slightly. “So… you don’t want me to care about you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you said quickly, trying to keep your tone gentle. “I just think maybe you’ve misunderstood. I didn’t mean for you to think… we were something more.”

His grip on the flowers tightened, the fragile petals crumpling beneath his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes distant as if he were lost in thought.

Then, slowly, he nodded. “I understand,” he murmured, though his tone was unsettlingly calm. “You’ve been busy. You’ve been… overwhelmed.”

You exhaled in relief, thinking maybe he’d finally gotten the message. But then he looked up at you again, his eyes bright with a strange, unsettling determination.

“I’ll just come check on you more often,” he said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d made up his mind.

Your heart sank. “Choso, that’s not—”

“No, it’s okay,” he interrupted, his tone almost cheerful now. “You don’t have to feel bad. I know you’re busy, and sometimes it’s hard to keep up with everything. But I can help. I can make sure you’re okay. You shouldn’t have to do everything on your own.”

The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made your blood run cold.

“You don’t need to do that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to check on me.”

“But I want to,” he insisted, his expression softening with something that almost looked like affection. “I care about you. Isn’t that what you want? Someone who cares?”

You stepped back, the counter pressing into your spine as you tried to put more distance between you. “Choso, this isn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he said again, cutting you off with a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll make it work. You don’t have to say anything now. I’ll take care of it.”

Before you could respond, he stepped toward the door, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re never too busy again.”

And then he was gone, leaving the faint scent of crushed flowers in the air.

You locked the door behind him, your hands trembling as you slid the deadbolt into place. The faint scent of crushed flowers still lingered in the air, a sickly-sweet reminder of his presence.

For a moment, the silence felt almost deafening. You stared at the door, hoping—praying—that this would be the end of it.

Choso didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand boundaries, didn’t understand what his actions meant to you. To him, this wasn’t wrong—it was pure love. That you must love him too. 

[thezombieprostitute]

Second Chances

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: the car broke down and the snow is getting deep

A/N2: A follow up to Everyone Leaves.

Warnings: Alcoholism, Angst. Please let me know if I missed any!

"Merry Christmas to me," you sarcastically grumble as your car fails to start up.

It's been the year from hell. You've been hounded by the loan sharks that call themselves banks, asking after your student loans. Your dad's health got so much worse, which is why you're stuck in the hospital parking lot. Oh, and your increasingly distant boyfriend refused to change his ways and you had to leave him.

Part of you had hoped he'd stop you. Apologize. Anything, really, to show he actually cared about you. But clearly that was asking too much of Curtis "always alone" Everett. Then again, considering he got fired soon after for showing up to work drunk, maybe it was for the best that you parted ways. You had enough on your plate without taking care of him as well.

You try the engine one more time and still get nothing. You want to take some time to just cry but the snow is piling up and you can't stay at the hospital. Sighing you call for a tow truck. You'll use the time between the call and the truck's arrival to let your tears out.

When the tow truck pulls up you quickly wipe away your tears. You're sure whoever is driving has seen plenty of people crying in frustration, if not outright raging, but you still don't want your own tears to be seen. You step out to greet the driver and you both stop in your tracks. It's Curtis.

Curtis looks at you, his face contorted into an expression of pain, sadness. He looks like he wants to say something but is scared to. You're sure you don't look any better. You both start and stop a few times before you shake your head and point to your car. "Engine won't start" is all you say but Curtis nods, and gets to work.

As he starts hooking up your car he points to the cab of his truck. "It's nice and warm in there. You go ahead and settle in, keep warm?" You nod with a little "thanks" and head into the passenger side of the truck.

Settling in, you didn't realize how cold you'd been. It seems like your shivers were both from crying and the cold. The truck is delightfully warm and you let yourself relax a little. You're genuinely happy Curtis seems to have landed on his feet. If anything, you're surprised he was so expressive with you. He was never the type to really show what he was feeling, just locking it up behind his stoic facade.

When he climbs into the driver's side you do your best to clam up. He was the one who pushed you away, he can put in the work to try to draw you back. If that's what he even wants. And if he doesn't, well, it's on him, not you.

"Do you want me to drop you off at your place before or after taking the car to garage?" he asks. His voice is shakier than you've ever heard it.

"Probably after," you reply. "Make sure the garage has my details and contact info."

He nods. "Just gotta be careful. The snow's getting worse and I don't want you stranded there."

"I understand. But you know I like my records and receipts."

He nods and sets to driving.

The drive is quiet but the tension in the air is heavy. You want to say something, anything, but you hold firm. He drove the wedge between you, he can be the one to remove it.

When you get to the garage Curtis helps you out of the truck and introduces you to his new buddy, Edgar, before going to the back room.

You and Edgar get to talking, he's a nice kid. Lots of energy and a warm smile. You wonder allowed how he and Curtis became friends.

"Oh, we met in AA," Edgar tells you. "I'm actually his sponsor."

"He's in AA? I knew he was drunk at work once, I didn't think that was worth signing up to Alcoholics Anonymous."

Edgar hesitates, "it's not my place to tell you the whole story, but he ended up in the hospital."

Your hand flies to your mouth as you gasp. Sure, Curtis wasn't one to turn up a drink when you were together, but to go that far? "Well, I'm glad he's got you to help him out," you nod.

"Do you mind me asking how you know him?"

"We used to date."

Edgar's eyes widen at that. "You're the one who got away!"

You give him a pained expression as you hear Curtis growl from the doorway, "now's not the time, Edgar."

"Sure thing, old man," Edgar rolls his eyes, making you smile. "Let's go ahead and get your information so you can get home before the roads get too messed up to drive."

When you get the paperwork taken care of Curtis steps up, "can I drive you home? I'd...I'd feel better if...if you took my truck and not some dinky uber or lyft car."

Your heart clenches. You can see he's trying so you agree. Plus, he's not wrong about his truck being safer. He opens the passenger door for you and helps you get in before climbing into the driver's seat.

After a few minutes, Curtis breaks the tension. "I'm guessing your dad's not doing too well?"

"Nope," you shake your head. "The cold seems to just make things worse." Curtis nods.

The rest of your trip is spent in silence.

When Curtis pulls up to your building you're ready jump out of the truck to escape the tension. But when you go to unbuckle he says, "can we talk?"

"Yes." That's all you'll give him, if only to protect yourself.

"I'm sorry," he starts. "I'm sorry for everything. For how I treated you. I...I thought I was protecting myself by keeping distant. But when you left I...it hurt so much more than I ever could've expected."

You look at him and see tears forming in his eyes.

"I... I genuinely thought it was just how things work," he continues. "But you left, when I drove you away, I couldn't...I just ended up drinking until I blacked out. Next thing I know I'm in the hospital. No job. No friends." He lets out a sob. "I knew, laying there in that bed, that if I hadn't...if I'd treated you better, I wouldn't be so alone and miserable."

Tears are now streaming from your own eyes.

"I've been getting help since then. Been trying to change for the better." He turns to face you, "I've hurt you and I'll never ask you to take me back. But is there any chance, any at all, that you'd let me back into your life? Even just as a friend?"

You sit for a few minutes, but you don't leave and Curtis starts to hope.

When you finally speak you tell him, "the best apology is changed behavior. And you have definitely changed. For the better."

Curtis's breath hitches.

You continue, "you hurt me more than I think you know. But you've clearly been doing some introspection, getting some help, and that speaks volumes to your willingness to make amends. You've got a long road to redemption with me, but you've made some good strides."

Taking his hand in yours you look him in the eyes, "we can start again as friends."

Curtis's shoulders sag as he starts crying tears of relief. You can't help yourself and wrap him in a hug, letting your own tears fall freely. He's repeatedly whispering "thank you," and "I'll do better. I promise."

When you break the hug, he doesn't fight you but you know it's because he's being respectful rather than a sign of his disinterest. You open the passenger door and turn back to him with a soft smile, "Merry Christmas, Curtis."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

Also tagging @brandycranby as she was the one sent the original ask.

[httpvomitello]

hopefully i’m doin’ this right;;

may i perhaps have daemon targaryen x autistic female reader (whom is very physically affectionate and occasionally clingy) with a song inspiration of: the “JUMPIN’ OVER!” cover by Amiaryllis?

Hello, hello! Thanks for the request, hope you like it ♡

The Rogue Prince and His Wildflower *⁠.⁠✧

daemon targaryen x f!reader

The halls of the Red Keep were alive with whispers, the servants and lords alike speculating about the strange girl who had caught Daemon Targaryen’s attention. You weren’t like the other ladies of the court, with their polished manners and sharp tongues. You spoke plainly, sometimes too much, sometimes too little. You often avoided the endless formalities, finding solace in small, familiar routines.

But it was your touch—your constant, gentle touch—that seemed to mystify and disarm the Rogue Prince.

You were seated in the gardens of the Red Keep, your fingers trailing through the soft petals of a row of wildflowers. Most would have seen nothing remarkable about the scene, but Daemon, ever observant, noticed the way your lips moved silently, as if speaking to the flowers themselves.

“What secrets do they tell you?” he had asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

You startled slightly but didn’t retreat. Instead, you looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “They don’t tell secrets. They just… feel nice. Gentle.”

Daemon smirked, intrigued. “Gentle, hmm? As if the world were not a well of kindness.”

Your connection grew quickly, though not without its challenges. You had your routines and rhythms, and Daemon—ever impatient—sometimes found them frustrating.

“Why must you count the steps to the door every time?” he asked one evening as you paced the length of his chambers.

“It helps me think,” you replied simply, pausing to glance at him. “And it feels good. Like… jumping over waves.”

Daemon tilted his head, considering your answer. He didn’t always understand your ways, but he respected them, even if they puzzled him.

“What if I carried you to the door instead?” he teased, striding toward you with a playful grin.

You didn’t resist when he scooped you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re warm,” you murmured, leaning into him.

“And you’re clingy,” he replied, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“I like being close,” you admitted. “It makes me feel safe.”

For all his bravado and sharp edges, Daemon found he couldn’t deny you. “Then stay close, wildflower,” he murmured, holding you tighter.

Daemon learned quickly that you expressed love differently from most. Where others used words or gifts, you used touch. You often reached for his hand, brushing your fingers against his when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. You leaned into him during council meetings, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

One night, after a particularly grueling day, Daemon returned to his chambers to find you waiting for him. You didn’t say a word, simply pulling him down to sit beside you. Your hands moved to his shoulders, massaging the tension away with surprising skill.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of its usual sarcasm.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You looked like you needed it.”

Not everyone in court was kind to you. Whispers followed you wherever you went, and there were those who mocked your inability to navigate the subtleties of court life.

Daemon, however, was quick to silence any slight against you. When one particularly cruel lord made a jest at your expense during a feast, Daemon had slammed his goblet down, the sound echoing through the hall.

“Say another word,” he warned, his voice low and deadly, “and you’ll find yourself feeding Caraxes instead of your hounds.”

Even though the lord did not comment on it further, his body was found near Caraxes the next morning.

From then on, the court learned to hold their tongues.

Later that night, as you curled into Daemon’s side, you whispered, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “No one speaks ill of what is mine.”

There were moments of pure joy between the two of you, moments where the world and its expectations seemed to fall away.

One day, as a storm raged outside, you pulled Daemon toward the balcony, your eyes alight with excitement. “Come on!” you urged, your hand tight around his.

“You’re mad,” he said, though he didn’t resist.

The rain soaked you both as you danced across the slick stones, laughing and spinning as if the storm were your own private song. Daemon watched you, his heart swelling at the sight of your unrestrained happiness.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pulling you close.

“And you’re wet,” you teased, laughing as you wiped rain from his face.

Daemon’s grin was wicked as he wrapped his arms around you, spinning you once more before pressing his lips to yours.

[itsnathateasy]

i'm so happy i joined the levihan secret santa this year, as i loved writing this lil fic! it's for my giftee @silvermarig0lds who i honestly hope will enjoy it! happy holidays vera!

word count: 1,7k || divider by @issysh3ll warnings: alcohol consumption, levi & hange have a baby but idk if this counts as a warning a/n: there's this fanart that i ddin't know existed and it made me so happy to discover it after writing this short story!

“No, Hange, I’m not wrapping their presents. It’s not like they’re not expecting to be gifted socks and chocolate again this year...” Levi said, his fake annoyance obvious. In all honesty, he did love gifting socks and chocolate to the “kids”. Even though it had been more than a decade since they were last considered kids.

“Come ooon Levi! Stop pouting and enjoy our preparations! It’s not every year that we’re hosting the Christmas dinner, and I know you’re secretly enjoying this!” They said and winked at him from across the table. Levi’s expression softened at Hange’s words, instantly popping the faintest of smiles. “Alright, alright… I’ll behave. But only because you asked nicely this time.”

Hange smiled back, pleased with Levi’s response, then continued setting the china on the table and making sure the entire set up was presentable. “You know, I read so many articles and tutorials on how to art de la table, I hope I can do it some justice here! Did you know it’s advised to leave a small gift for each one of your guests? Preferably handmade gifts too. Do you think they’ll like-” “Hange!” Levi stopped them by placing a hand on their shoulder. “You’re rambling. They’ll love the dinner, it’s nicely cooked. And they’ll love the… Offerings...” He said as he glanced at the decorated pine cones dismissively. Hange used all of their art and skill to make them look like tiny Christmas trees by painting them white here and there, imitating snow, and gluing tiny colourful ornaments and a small star at the top.

“You don’t seem convinced Levi… Should I take them straight to the rubbish can?” Hange asked, as they grabbed onto two of the cones, removing them from the table. “Hange, just… Relax...” Levi had to reach for their shoulders and physically press down on them, preventing them from making any more hasty movements. “Give me those.” He demanded and carefully placed the decorations back to their assigned spots. “Listen...” He began, his finger softly touching Hange’s chin. “You’re overthinking this. Don’t. The kids better love it. Or else...” “LEVI! You can’t threaten them into having a good time!” Hange exclaimed, raising their voice. “I can’t?” One of his eyebrows was raised.

Their conversation was cut short by the bell ringing. Hange and Levi exchanged a look. “Early, aren’t they?” Asked Levi. “Yeah... I didn’t quite expect anyone to show up this early...” They walked together towards the door and opened it, surprised to find it was no other than Erwin. “I’m sorry to appear this early… And unannounced.” He said as he took a step inside, unwrapping a huge scarf from around his torso. “But this little one was making a huge fuss. I couldn’t deal with her on my own, so I brought her back to her parents”. Peeling off the final layer of the scarf, he revealed a tiny girl squirming in his embrace. “My daughter’s feisty, not fussy, Erwin!” Exclaimed Levi, extending his arms to take her in his arms. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble Erwin… We did get so much done since last night, it wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t offered to babysit.” Stooping over Levi’s shoulder, they took a look at the tiny baby, softly kissing her on the forehead, then giving Levi a peck on the temple. “He gets jealous when he doesn’t get his kiss.” They explained and shut the door, preventing any more cold air from entering the room. Hange stuck their tongue out towards Levi, who’d been glaring at them about the “kiss incident”.

“Give me your coat, Erwin.” Hange asked politely as they helped him out of his garment. Levi took a sit with the girl on the couch, placing her softly on the pillows and creating a tiny border around her, consisting of some smaller pillows and her huge scarf, the one Erwin brought back. After ensuring the baby wouldn’t accidentally fall off the couch, he joined Hange and Erwin to help with the remaining preparations.

“She was just excited to be with you… I think! She really likes you Erwin!” Hange couldn’t contain their laughter as Erwin shared every detail of his (failed) attempt to have a quiet time with the baby. “She likes me? She was yelling for almost two hours straight! She’d only stop when I held her!” Erwin wasn’t really upset, his soft giggle betrayed him. This was his first time babysitting ever. As he shared the rest of the shenanigans that he and the tiny girl had been through, he and Hange had a great laugh about it. “And that’s all the proof you need Erwin! Next time, we might ask you to babysit for an entire weekend! What do you think, Levi?” Levi scoffed as he brought a basket packed with sliced bread and placed it in the centre of the table. “If Erwin agrees to not call her fussy again, I might reconsider.”

After an hour or so, the table was ready and all the house decorations were set up. The food was done cooking and the air smelled of all the tasty spices and herbs used. The atmosphere was cozy and, luckily, the baby was still enjoying herself with the smells, voices and sounds all around her and kept herself occupied by kicking her small feet in the air and cooing once in a while, whenever she wanted a little bit of a belly rub. Exhausted, Hange, Levi and Erwin took their wine glasses and bottle to the living room and took their seats on the couch. They still had some more time left before everyone arrived.

“We haven’t shared a glass of wine since… I don’t even remember! What do you think, Erwin?” Asked Hange, taking a small sip from their glass. “Ah… It must’ve been around a year... A year and a half?” “At least.” Added Levi as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. “We haven’t had many chances like this since before you found out you were pregnant, Hange. And she is already six months old.” “Time flies… Slips through our fingers like sand. I’m glad we get to spend this day together. Cheers to that?” Asked Erwin, raising his glass towards his two friends. “Cheers to that!” They said in unison.

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺

The house was filled with laughter when the doorbell rang for the second time. “It’s probably the kids, I’ll get it.” Levi sat up from the couch, handing the baby back to Hange, who hugged her and began making funny faces to her.

“Happy Christmas everyone!” A Jean with open arms greeted them from the doorstep. He was surrounded by Armin, Sasha and Connie who all had their hands full with vibrant gift boxes and bags filled with delicacies. “Should we sing the carols too?” Sasha exclaimed but Connie and Armin managed to stop her before she could commence her singing. “We did promise to be quiet Sasha!” Connie literally yelled towards her, failing to make his point come across. “We understand the baby is still much too young, Mr Ackerman.” Armin stepped in, attempting to rescue his friends from a good scolding session. “We’d never want to disturb the little girl’s sleep now, would we guys?” He questioned and laughed awkwardly. The rest of the group silently agreed, nodding their heads. “Why are you still calling me Mr Ackerman?” Levi asked, giving Armin’s head a soft, but audible, slap. “Didn’t you graduate like 10 years ago? I’m just Levi now!”

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺ ₊ ❅ 。⋆ ⁺

“Ahh… What a beautiful day we had, right Levi?” Hange asked from their side of the bed. Their baby was peacefully sleeping between them, a relaxed expression on her face. Levi’s hand was stretched towards Hange, past the baby, barely reaching Hange’s neck and lazily caressing it. He simply nodded in agreement with Hange, feeling his eyes getting heavier and heavier. “We spent the entire morning alone together, then showered and cooked and decorated the whole house and listened to festive music and oh - I almost forgot - that we ate all those candies we bought for the dinner – how naughty of us, right? Ah, what a day!” They stretched their hand towards the ceiling, taking a big yawn before making themselves more comfortable. “And now we’re reunited with this little one!” They said placing a hand on the baby’s belly, patting it with a slow and soft movement. “I’m so grateful that Erwin babysat her but, if I’m being honest, I missed her terribly… Are you asleep already Levi? I’m still hyper!” “I can tell, Hange. You haven’t stopped for a second.” He said and smiled, placing his hand on top of theirs, still patting onto the baby. “Am I being annoying again?” A guilty smile spread across Hange’s face as they almost shied away from Levi. “If I ever thought of you as annoying, would you think I’d end up marrying you? Or having a kid with you?” “I don’t know Levi, you’ve always been the weird one of us.” “I’m the weird one?” “Well… Have you met you before?” The baby slightly moved in her sleep, making her parents abruptly put an end to their silly quarrel.

“So...” Hange kept on speaking, only much quieter this time. “Which was your favourite gift?” “That I gave or that I received?” Levi responded, his eyes closed. “That you received of course!” Hange scoffed. “You gave everyone those stripy socks anyway…” “Socks AND chocolate… Can never go wrong there!” Hange waited for his answer, reaching their hand towards him, trying to disturb the baby as little as possible. “Ah… I guess… The best holiday present is how we get to sleep together every night, like this… Just us, in our bed, in our home. It’s a lovely feeling.”

Hange was stunned at his words. “Aw, I didn’t know you could be this romantic, Levi!” “I glued paper stars on top of pine cones that we gathered at the park, you don’t give me enough credit, Hange.” “Ugh, just come here you!” They said as they did their best to reach him without unnerving the baby. As soon as Hange managed to cross the “baby border” and lay on top of Levi, they squeezed him breathless, kissing him all over his face and making him giggle, a sound as pretty as the first gust of wind in spring. “Happy Christmas, Levi!” “Happy Christmas, Hange!”

[keelt9]

Paper 2

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope you spend this holiday calmly and the way it makes you feel at ease.

Remember to take your time, one step at the time. ❄️

From far away I send you a big hug!🍒

The table near the small tree and the window, the messages are in his phone still he keeps mumbling all his way until the restaurant. 

Why the hell is even sweating this much?

The restaurant is a little bit crowded with people having breakfast but his eyes fly right away to the table near to the plant and the window.

His heart drops seeing in the table a man thanking the waitress, who just left a cup of coffee. One more time the endless questions flow through his mind.

Who is he? Is the table correct? Daniel was right and it’s fake after all? Did she get married?

The man lifts his eye in time to smile at Max and wave his hand, insecure Max walks to the table gripping his phone tight, in his head the worst possible scenario is developing so fast. 

The man will introduce him to his little elf fiance, probably they are already planning on having a family, living in a nice house in the town, they could even have a pet.

Is she still the same little elf of years ago?

“Oh, please, don’t put that face on Max.” The man shook his hand. “I’m not her boyfriend or husband.”

Max sighs, but still feels tension over his shoulders. 

“Sorry, sorry, diaper issue.” Max recognizes the girl, is the one his little elf is hugging, her sister; carrying a baby girl in her arms. “Omg, are you ok? You’re pale as a ghost.”

Max feels like he just saw one.

“Yes, I… I'm just…surprised.” The woman smiles tenderly following Max's eyes to the baby she had in her arms.

“Oh, please, don’t be scared.” She extends her hand with a soft smile on her face. “I’m Isabell… your little efl sister.” Max grabs her hand. “My husband Gonzalo and this baby girl is my daughter, Noah.”

“She is so beautiful, just like her.” Max's eyes stuck to the baby, his pinky cheek and shiny eyes. 

Isabell smiles tenderly at her baby and caresses her face. “My mom said I shouldn’t be disturbed that much to my sister or my baby will be so similar to her.”

Max giggles observing Noah hide her face in her mother's shoulder. “She forgot to mention, I’ll give birth to her twin.”

Max laughs, feeling lighter and relaxed. “Why don’t we sit?” Gonzalo mentions carrying their baby so they can sit.

“I’m sorry if I make things in such a weird way, but I’m afraid I won't find another idea in my mind.” Isabell mentioned. “Listen Max, let’s be honest, my sister knows who you are.”

Max shallow, and call for a waitress, is too early for a drink? With this situation, he doesn’t think so.

“She found out about you, the first year you were in Red bull, when she saw your face on the screen I believe she could faint in any seconds.” She smirks softly. “From that moment on, every time she knew a race would take place, she barely moved from the T.V.”

Gonzalo laughs probably remembering those moments. “Every clothing item you release, she will have it by the end of the month. She never said but she became your fan no.1.”

Noah looks with all her attention to him making him make a funny face putting a smile on her little face. 

“When you have that accident on the track, she really anguishes, until you appear to be dizzy but safe.” Max quivers for a second but he needs to ask.

“She never contacted me.” Those words closed his throat. “If she…”

“Max both of you move on, or at least she's been trying.” Max notices the unease expression in Isabell’s face. “She refused to come back to Benasque, she is acknowledging about the radical new world you're living, that she's felt doesn't belong there, but also she refuses to move one, you know what I mean?”

Max shakes his head, this time Gonzalo speaks. “Max isn't a secret she stops considering you just as a best friend, you can tell by the way she speaks about you.”

Noah giggles as she tries to grab Max's hand. “But she met a guy a couple of years ago, he's an enchanting person with her, and even he confessed his feelings a couple of months ago…”

“No.” It was an involuntary response, Max felt his heart squeeze.

“She refused to give him a chance until I spoke with her.” Isabell bits her lips. “Reason why she went one more time to Benasque.”

Suddenly the sunny day of Barcelona feels cold making him shiver.

“In a way to say goodbye.” Max moves in his chair, he feels nauseous. 

“However you started to search for her, she doesn't know because after Christmas she stops looking at your accounts, she cleans all that resembles you.”

“Then…the..then how do you know?” He shutters and blesses God in that moment his drink came.

“I worked for a sports magazine, you make a big show of this, it's just a simple deduction, you are looking for my sister in law.” Gonzalo giggles. “You Max Verstappen looking for someone I see every weekend is something weird.”

Isabell gives her baby’s bottle to Noah. “Maybe I sound like a crazy protective sister but Max, I love my sister, and I want the best for her, that is why I'm telling you all this… I'm sorry but if you are only looking for my sister just for bringing back a friendship, trust me she will always consider you like her most treasured friend.” 

Max opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but he's just empty. “The best for her is you keep going in separate ways, because having you in her life, I'm afraid she will be stuck one more time.”

Gonzalo perceived the conflict expression in his face and the fact his drink disappeared. “Don't worry Max, she's fine, healthy, making her dreams true, don't have to worry about her.”

Noah laughs seeing the faces her mother makes to her, this would be the last time to hear the closest sound of her laugh?

“What if I see her in the same way she saw me?” Isabell shakes her head.”What if I…”

“Max! You don't have to do this.” Max feels hopeless every second. “I didn't come here for an answer, I came to assure you she's fine, for you can be at ease.”

“No, no, no, I, me…I… I'm confused, sorry, it's just…” Max breaths slowly. “Every year, I travel with a backpack full of notebooks with importants things that happened to me to tell her, every special moment and the most random ones are noted there.”

Noah grabs his finger across the table. “I miss her like hell.” He carefully covers Noah’s ears. “Fuck, I been stupid.” 

The big eyes of the baby girl and the smile make him speak. “There must be a reason, right?” 

Isabell sees Gonzalo with conflicted eyes.

Max gets down his head. “Maybe I already know but I'm… what if I say something wrong?”

“Ok, let's do this.” Isabell leans over the table. “I won't rush anything, take your time, thinking about it carefully, when you are ready, give me a call, we can find out what to do after that.”

Max sees his empty drink taking a few breaths, what if that time is enough for her to finally leave him in the oblivion?

“Max, believe me, we have plenty of time.” It must be a thing between sisters, they look like they could actually read his mind. “She likes to take her time for important decisions.”

Max nods, unable to say another word, feeling so overwhelmed but happy and relieved. Isabell observes him unable to stop a soft smile.

“Well, it’s time to go.” She and her husband stand with their baby in his arms. “You have my number Max, call anytime when you have it all clear.”

Max stands, seeing the photo. “Do you mind if I keep with this one?” 

Isabell shakes her head. “All yours.” Noah mumbled, extending her little arms to Max. “You have a special charm Max, now I see it.”

Max grabs her little hand, shaking it, feeling shy for the compliment; the red cheeks with the top of the nose too, bring him soft memories and the concern that now, he has a lot to think about.

The summer break turns into agony, the past months he has been able to focus on the race leaving him zero time to think properly, he refuses to take a decision with the fuss of emotions of a race.

“So?” Daniel asked, sitting next to him cleaning the sweat of his forehead after a tough padel game. “You decided already?”

Max sits on the floor drinking a half of the water of his bottle. It’s the second week of the summer break and every time he tries to dig into the decision, he has a migraine after 15 minutes of thinking. 

His lack of answer made Daniel sigh. “Mate if it’s that hard, it could be a sign that maybe you see her as what it is?” 

“I don’t follow you.” Max leaned his arms over his knees.

“A dear friend of the past.” Daniel said, raising his hand waving it, Charles is walking right to them. “Just think about it with that perspective in mind.”

He can’t, Max simply can’t.

The next morning he postone all his meetings with friends and family, as he is making a small travel bag.

“It's summer?” Victoria mentions as they keep talking through the phone. “What do you expect to find there?”

Max didn’t even know but if there is a place where he always finds peace is in Benasque.

“Nothing, just a space to think.” Max sees Jimmy stretching on the window. “It will be a couple of days, don’t worry.”

“Max.” Max takes his bag standing in front of one of the trophies, next to it the photo of his little elf puts a smile on his face. “Take care, ok?”

The next morning he spent time walking around after having breakfast in the small hotel, his mind seemed to clear in every step.

“Look what the wind brings.” The old men from the clockmaker's workshop cross in his path. “Young boy, it’s early for you to come.” 

Max nods seeing him carrying bags. “Do you need an extra hand?” 

“Thank you.” He gives him two bags, as they walk to his store, talking about his life, 20 years have passed and Max feels he just met the old men who see every year.

He opened the door next to the shop, his house. “Want to come in? I have a nice limoned on the fridge.”

Max quiver for a second. “Or I have a tiramisu.” Max raises his eyes quickly. “The cute little girl mentioned it is… sorry probably it was your favorite.”

She remembers, that’s enough for Max to take a step inside of the house.

All in brown colors, a lot of photos hanging on every wall as he walks to the living room, where the old man asks him to wait a couple of seconds. 

He takes his time observing every photo, until his eyes find one that calls for his attention; it’s the Roman coliseum covered in snow.

He takes it as a memory that comes back to his mind.

“It’s almost impossible.” Max buttons the last ones from the neck part of her cape. 

The little girl rolled her eyes. “It has already passed! Why can't it happen again?” She stands taking the snow off her lap.

The night reached them and the cold is increasing, tomorrow Max must leave.

“You’re talking about snow in Rome!” She grabs his hands between her warming up before leaving. 

“Oh my God! You’re so pessimistic sometimes.” She rubs his hands, the gloves help to warm it quickly. “Ok, let’s say if it happens one more time, I swear, I’ll be there.”

Max scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Believe me, Mr. Frozen hands. I’ll make it.” She winks at him.

The old man finds Max with the photo in his hands; Max hears him unable to stop looking at the girl, well, the back of the girl.

“She made it.” His voice cracks unintentionally.

The man set the two plates on the small table. “Oh, indeed, she came back that winter with two photos, this is for me and the other one I guess it was for you…”

Max never came that winter.

“Fuck! How much I would love to be with her.” The man tilted his head. “She must look adorable.”

“I always knew, young boy.” The old man sat on his big sofa. “It’s true love what I saw in you two.”

“What?” Max turned around, unable to take his eyes from the photo.

“She said the same.” He takes a bite of the tiramisu. “She would love having you with her that day. After all she has something to reproach after all.”

That afternoon in front of the old clock downtown, the beeps of the phone seemed to last like an hour between each one. 

“Hello?” Max sighs, relieved, sitting on the closet bench.

“I love her.” Max whispers feeling the weight of his shoulders lifts. “That’s what I feel and I couldn’t say.” 

Isabell didn’t reply. “I love your sister…Please help me, don’t let her forget me.” Max panic fearing the worst. “I know it can sound stupid, we barely know each other, it has been 10 years, I changed, probably she did too. You may think I’m doing this in such a dumb way to keep myself in her life, but….” 

Max takes a deep breath. “I have been carrying a pen with a couple of notebooks for 10 years, more than one time I write about the fact I got stung by a bee! Omg, what a stupid man who isn’t in love does that? I’m frighten with the simple thought of losing her forever”

“Do you want to hear her?” Max held his breath. “We can coordinate things later, but we’re in the middle of a familiar reunion, you know? It will be so weird.” 

Max let go a breath that sounds like he’s had a hurricane inside. 

“Can I?” Isabell giggles with the fact that Max Verstappen is nervous.

“After you hear her I’ll hang out and I’ll call you later to coordinate something, ok?” Max stands excited walking around the bench, waiting. 

The sound of chattering and plates with laughs became slowly more audible, Max saw his hands, he’s trembling. 

“What are you doing?” Isabell asked. Damn it! Max is technically invisible and he feels so exposed every second.

Then the soft giggle drains the blood of his body. “Making a mojito, duh!”

She is there, she’s fucking there!

“See, ron, lemon, ice, mint and other things that dad said I will need.” Max imagines her in a beautiful summer dress. “Everything alright?”

“Well, I bet right now, yes, everything seems perfect.” Isabell sees her phone, Max is online. 

“Great, now, stop staring at me and give me a hand. I’m confused.” Isabell laughs while hanging out. 

Max looks at his phone with a smile that he’s sure will cause painful cheeks.

As he walks to his hotel, this time to write his brainstorm of ideas for meeting her one more time, he finds in one of the window displays a ornament for Christmas of a Santa Claus.

He stops in front of me with a smirk. “Give me a hand big guy, I swear that if you need it, I’ll be a good boy all these years. Just help me a little bit.”

He was caught by the reflection of a boy with a lollipop in his mouth looking at him with a weird face. 

He takes out his lollipop. “He doesn't understand.” Max narrowed his eyes. “You must send him a letter to the north pole with what you want.” 

Max giggles. “Besides, it's advice.” The kid is so confident. “Make sure to write in a pretty paper, with a pretty letter, make sure he fully understands what you want.”

“Louis!” A woman shouted a name, making the kid turn around. 

He nods. “I have to go, good luck!”

Max chuckles and screams as the kid goes with his mother. “THANKS FOR THE ADVICE!”

He focuses one more time on Santa, “Let’s make my wish come true.”

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

Tag: @anilovessadbooks

[fumblingmusings]

Absolutely obsessed this evening with the European nations trying to rank themselves in order of precedence as the Pope did in 1504 and imagining which nations in particular would have absolutely rankled at their placement and who was above them:

Spain and France forever switching places in the 16th century depending on how fat the Habsburgs were at that moment, the argument of France being the eldest daughter of the church and yet unable to ever get a leg up on the Holy Roman Empire, and England arguing that they should be equal to Portugal were all rejected.

Became moot following the Reformation ofc, but even now, I bet some of them still get into stinking arguments about something as benign as who gets to enter a room first.

[steveyockey]

To be aware you might be trans but unwilling to do anything about it is to create endlessly bigger boxes within which to contain yourself. When you are a child, that box might encompass only yourself and your parents. By the time you are a gainfully employed adult, that box will contain multitudes, and the thought of disrupting it will grow ever more unthinkable. So you cease to think of yourself as a person on some level; you think not of what you want but what everybody expects from you. You do your best not to make waves, and you apologize, if only implicitly, for existing. You stop being real and start being a construct, and eventually, you decide the construct is just who you are, and you swaddle yourself up in it, and maybe you die there. There is still time until there isn’t.

This reading of TV Glow’s deliberately anticlimactic, noncathartic ending cuts against the transition narrative you typically see in movies and TV, in which a trans person self-accepts, transitions, and lives a happier life. Owen gets trapped in a space where he knows what he must do to live an authentic life but simply refuses to take those steps because, well, burying yourself alive is a terrifying thing to do. The transition narrative posits a trans existence as, effectively, a binary switch between “man” and “woman” that gets flipped one way or another, but to make our lives so binary is to miss how trans existences possess an inherent liminality.

Humans’ lives unfold in a constant state of becoming until death, but trans people are uniquely keyed in to what this means thanks to the simple fact of our identities. You can get lost in that liminality, too, forever trapped in a midnight realm of your own making, stuck between what you believe is true (I am a nice man with a good family and a good job, and I love my life) and what you know, deep in your most terrified heart of hearts, is real (I am a girl suffocating in a box).

And yet if you want to read the film as being about the dangerous allure of nostalgia, you’re not wrong. I Saw the TV Glow totally supports that interpretation, too! But in tempting you with that reading, the film creates a trap for cis viewers that will be all too familiar to trans viewers. Somewhere in the middle of Maddy’s story about The Pink Opaque being real, you will make a choice between “This kid has lost it!” and “No. Go with her, Owen,” and in asking you to make that choice, TV Glow is simulating the act of self-accepting a trans identity.

See, the grimmer read of the film’s ending truly is a nihilistic one. It leaves no hope, no potential for growth, no exit. Yet you must actively choose to read that ending as nihilistic. If you are cis and the end of I Saw the TV Glow left you with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, a weird but hard-to-pin-down feeling that something had broken, and a melancholy bordering on horror — congratulations, this movie gave you contact-high gender dysphoria.

In an infinite number of possible universes, there is at least one where I am still living “as a man,” embracing my fictionality, avoiding looking at how much more raw and real I feel when I “pretend” to be a woman. I think about that guy sometimes. I hope he’s okay.

Consider, then, my cis reader, that TV Glow is for both you and me, but it is maybe most of all for him. I hope he sees it. I hope he breaks down crying in the bathroom afterward. I hope he, after so many years locked inside himself, hears the promise of more life through the hiss of TV static.

Emily St. James, “I Saw the TV Glow’s Ending Is Full of Hope, If You Want It to Be,” Vulture. June 4, 2024.

[stuniolvs]

s2!rafe x maybank!reader where she’s the little sister of jj & they end up fucking in a bathroom at a kook party. the pogues catch them & rafe is not even trying to denie it cause that was the best pussy he ever had🤭🎀

bathroom

rafe cameron

you and your brothers friends stumble into the kind of fancy party you know you don’t belong at. do you care? not even for a second.

everyone scatters in different directions, john b. looking way too sharp in a black suit, sarah looking nice as well locked into a heated argument with kelce, pope heading straight for the drinks, and your brother jj, with kiara heading for the beer pong table, ready to dominate.

youu on the other hand, pull down your black tight dress so your boobs softly spill out, revealing more cleavage. your head turns to the sound of toppers laugh. you see rafe, a smirk planted on his sexy face. he’s wearing an all black suit, he chuckles as he removes his suit jacket, placing it on the chair next to him. you’d be lying if if it didn’t make your panties wet.

“hey rafe,” you step in between him and topper. topper gets the message and steps away sending rafe a wink. “hey baby,” he murmurs placing his hands on your hips. “where’s your brother?” he asks pulling you in so you’re pressed against him. you glance up at him considering he’s towering over you. “playing beer pong.” you smirk knowing that the beer pong table is far from where you and rafe stand. he leans down softly connecting your lips. the kiss is needy and wet. your hand moves to behind his neck, tugging at his hair. he groans into your mouth muttering, “jump.” as his hands slide behind your thighs. you jump up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he removes his lips from yours as he quickly walks you two over to the bathroom.

once you reach your destination, race places you on the counter, flicking on the warm lights. you tug his tie aggressively reconnecting your lips. his lips are soft and warm, the kiss full of need, considering you two hadn’t had sex in weeks due to your brother being around. “fuck, missed you so much baby.” he groans against your lips. you whimper into his lips as you feel his hardness press against your core. “need you so bad rafey,” you cry out.

he traces his lips down your neck surely leaving marks. his lips then make there way to your cleavage. you squirm under his touch. rafe then moves to where you need him the most, his head moving slightly under your dress. you hear him suck in a breath as he makes eye contact with your core. “all for me?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the material of your drenched black thong. “yes rafe! please, i need you” he smirks placing a soft kiss over your panties, you whimper softly. his fingers hook around your underwear pulling them down. he stuffs them into his suit pocket. “such a pretty pussy,” he compliments making you moan, feeling your arousal cover your thighs.

rafe comes back up to your face placing a kiss on your lips. you smile leaning in to kiss hos neck. your hands trace down to undo his tie and shirt. your lips come back up to his lips, ghosting your hands over his bulge, he moans into your mouth. you then undo the button and zipper of his pants. he then lifts you up flipping you over so you can see the both of you in the mirror. he then pulls down his pants kicking them off his feet leaving him in only his boxers. he unzips the back of your dress and pulling it down leaving you in your matching black lace bra. rafe groans, quickly pulling down his calvin klein boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach. “ready baby?” he smirks, gripping your hips tightly. you nod aggressively, he chuckles. he slides his cock in between your lips before pushing himself into you. “rafe!” you gasp. he then starts thrusting into you. his length is the perfect size, hitting the spot inside you perfectly with every thrust. he groans behind you “so tight baby, i missed this pussy so much” his grip on your hips growing even tighter being sure to leave a bruise tomorrow. you moan loudly looking at his face of pleasure in the mirror in front of you. he kisses the crown of your head thrusting faster into you,“cum rafe!” you warn, barely able to form a sentence. “me too sweetheart.” he groans. the knot in your stomach then snaps, covering rafes dick in your cum. you then feel him spill deep inside of you.

he pulls out of you softly flipping you over. “you okay baby?” he asks his, eyes full of concern. “never better,” you smile. he places a soft kiss on your lips, rafe smiles back at you, pulling up his boxers and pants. he then picks up your dress off the floor, helping you put it back on.

you both jump at the sound of pounding on the bathroom door as rafe zips your dress. “the fuck do you want,” rafe yells placing a kiss on your cheek. he swings open the door, still shirtless. “rafe cameron you bastard!” you hear the voice of your brother jj. “jayj! calm down.” you interfere. but jj doesn’t care he continues screaming. “baby go find kie, i’ll deal with him.” he offers you a smile. you give him an are you sure? look, he nods.

a punch is then thrown at rafe,

“worth it.”

thank you so much for reading!! leave more requests!!

[notquitecanon]

Dense // Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: A pretty little thing like you isn't flirting with Ghost? Are you?

Based off a prompt that's been a worm in my brain since 8th grade (I'm 25 now) and I'm probably going to write the same exact thing from the other POV.

TW: none, just a little fluffy hopefully funny insight into Simon's thought process.

God, Lieutenant Riley was dense.

That's what most people thought after watching him interact with you for longer than three minutes at a time. You'd been working in communications for two years now, mostly dealing with Captain Price but Ghost was always lurking around somewhere nearby. You'd been warned to avoid him.

He's mean, He's surly, he'll bite your head right off. He's dangerous blah blah blah...

What they didn't consider was that he was a tree of a man- tall, dark, and mysterious with pretty eyes. And you had little to no survival instincts when it came to a man who knew how to shut the fuck up.

It was obvious to anyone who watched you interact with him for any amount of time. How you stood closer to him than need be, how you watched him through your lashes when he spoke his few words to you, the way your voice changed when you spoke to him. Then it was the little touches and little gifts, sitting with him at empty tables when others would turn and walk the other way. You were so sweet on him, maybe even smitten with him.

Ghost never seemed to notice, and if he did he didn't pay it much mind. Just assumed you were just one of those chatty and nice people he seemed to attract every now and then- like Price or Soap. It didn't hurt either that you were sweet & pretty & and smelled good... no, didn't hurt at all and certainly didn't mean anything.

He brushed off Johnny and Gaz's teasings, met Price's knowing looks with icy glares. You definitely weren't flirting with him. There was no way someone like you was pursuing someone like him romantically. That was... ridiculous. Right?

Still. Something about that idea scratched his brain just right. Planted a seed that you unknowingly watered with sweet smiles and bright eyes. So, he started paying more attention.

You never got Price's attention by lingering a small, warm hand on the Captain's bicep- but you did with Ghost. You were chatty with Gaz, but never so much so that you made yourself late to other engagements- Ghost was losing track of the times you'd been chatting at with him only to look at your watch and scurry off with hot cheeks. And Soap could make you laugh, but he never got your cheeks to turn that pretty pink color- Ghost rarely saw you without rosy cheeks. Hmmm... Interesting.

So, he watched and observed (pined and yearned, more accurately). Until one day when he noticed how you flipped your hair over your shoulder as you spoke to him, direct eye contact through fluttering lashes, the dilation of your eyes.

"You have such pretty eyes-" You barely finished your statement before he interjected. He cut you off before you could even giggle, voice stern and hard and quick as those pretty dangerous eyes narrowed in a way that would have chased anyone else off. Not you though.

"Are you flirting with me?"

He asked, taking a looming step closer to you where you were standing by the breakroom coffee machine. He expected you to stutter out an excuse or apologize, or even frantically excuse yourself. He did not expect you to sigh, almost in relief(?) with that bright smile of yours.

"I have been for the last two years." You breathe in admittance, "But thanks for noticing now."

Bloody hell, you were trying to kill him.

----

I wrote this instead of paying attention in lecture

[ttsukiimi]

〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ the jjk men n how they treat you after s⍣x. - submitted by anon.

〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ nanami x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, gojo x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, aftercare, brief mentions of smut (mdni), unprotected s⍣x, creamp⍣es, fluff, established relationship, rough s⍣x, reader referred to as (baby, doll, sweetheart.)

────〃ଘ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 - second thoughts…

Nanami is always considerate of you. And he’s considerate of your preferences—preferably the things you enjoy most in bed. So, when you tell him you want it rough, albeit a little hesitant, he’s right on it. And he gives it to you good. Plowing you so hard, fucking you so good the bed starts to rock back and forth with the weight of his thrusts. The headboard bangs against the wall in tandem with your wanton screams and moans of more, the same sounds that keep him rooted deep inside you.

Nanami gives it to you almost too good—to the point that, by the time he’s done with you, leaving your cunt a creampied-mess, you’re shaking and your chest’s heaving for the breath he’s so greedily robbed you of.

With a fondness in his eyes, Nanami wipes your tear-stained cheek with his thumb. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, attempting to ease the trembling of your lips—to no avail, considering every part of your body is quivering at this point. Your head turns and you look away in embarrassment—you can’t possibly be the one in such a state after asking him to be rough with you.

Nanami smiles at this and places his pointer under your chin, turning your head back in his direction with his finger. “Tell me you’re fine.”

You nod again, finding yourself unable to talk. “With words, my love. I need words.”

“I-i’m fine, Ken. Promise.”

“You’re still shaking,” his voice’s a whisper now, breath fanning past your neck from his proximity. “Tell me I wasn’t too rough, please.”

“Kento—it’s fine. You were perfect.” you reassure, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, planting a quick yet searing kiss to his lips. “I just feel a little gross that’s all.”

After those words Nanami, being the perfect husband that he is, hurries over to fix you a nice, warm bath. And, per your request, he steps in too, and you both end the night basking in each other’s warmth in soft light and vanilla scented bubbles.

────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 - I’m doin my best!

Satoru’s always up for a rough session with you. The way you sound, the way you feel, the way you try and fail to escape from his thrusts—he loves it all. Especially when you’re crying and telling him how good he’s making you feel in both broken sentences and inhales for breath, scratching your manicured nails down his back in a pleasurable burn while doing so. The sight of your fucked-out face alone is enough to have him ready to make you bear his child, and your pussy—oh, don’t even get him started.

Satoru would go to hell and back for a mere second inside your warm, tight cunt.

And, saying that, he might’ve just went a bit too far—too rough this time. Because, as he finishes up inside you, spurting his hot seed deep into your womb—he wasn’t kidding about making you have his child—you’re shaking more than usual.

His brows furrow in slight concern, and his big hands caress all over your body as if asking if you’re okay.

“Baby?”

“H-hm?”

His lips slide against the skin of your shoulders. “You good?”

You open your eyes and give him a look—closing them again because doing anything makes your body feel even more sore. “Yeah, i’m fine. Just shaking because you went too soft.”

Satoru, on the other hand, doesn’t catch your sarcasm, and he’s about ready to get hard again when you flash him another look and slap his hand away.

“Satoru.” you heave, now trying to pull him closer. “I can’t even move. Do something.”

At that, he’s hurrying over to the bathroom and getting a washcloth, dampening it and scurrying back to you. Satoru’s surprisingly intent on cleaning you, more focused on tidying you up than your pussy which is just a mere inch away from his face—surprisingly not him at all.

Afterwards he’s tending to your every need, assuring you that there’s no need to feel ‘gross’ every time you say so.

Satoru Gojo really tries his best with aftercare.

────〃ଘ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 - ‘Kay, on it!

Well, Toji is nearly almost always rough with you in bed. There’s just something about it that he can’t get out of his system. And he even feels like sometimes his body’s really doing it out of habit—maybe even instinctively.

But, perhaps it may not have been that same instinct that drove him this particular time—and with the way you’re quivering more than usual, Toji thinks so too.

Then again, he just can’t stop himself from being too rough on you when you look so helplessly up at him when he’s plowing your lil’ pussy, and especially not when your moans fuel him on so much to the point where he has to hold you down so you don’t try and squirm away from his ruthless thrusts.

Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, you hiccup. Toji raises an eyebrow as he gazes down at you, wondering what he should do—you’ve never shook this much.

And he would be concerned but, there’s a sadistic part of him that’s secretly enjoying the sight knowing he’s the one to have you like this.

“T-toji.”

“Hm? Yeah, doll?”

“Can you get me some water, please?”

Before you can even blink he’s back with a refrigerated bottle of water, cold just to your liking. You smile, thanking him and gulping down the liquid, placing a kiss of gratitude to his lips afterwards.

“Toji..”

“Yes?”

“Can you, uhm, clean me..?”

A smile finds it way to his lips. Toji finds it cute how you’re hesitant to ask him such a question.

After some minutes he’s back with a damp cloth to wipe you with, though that’s not all. He’s carrying you bridal style to a warm bath waiting just for you, placing you in carefully as if you’re made of porcelain.

You kiss him again, stroking his forearm lovingly.

“Can you order us some takeout too?”

“On it.”

────〃ଘ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 - uh, where do i start?

Initially, Choso’s very nervous about going rough with you. His palms are sweaty, his eyebrows are furrowed together in a tight knit and he’s asking if you really want him to. He simply wants to make sure that you’re not acting on impulse—because, as soft as he may seem, he can really give it to you.

And he does—hard. Albeit, maybe too hard. He’s never gone so rough to the point where you shook after sex, and that was Choso’s first worry.

He expected you to at least calm down after a bit of time but your body kept continuously quivering.

That’s when Choso begins to scold himself. Maybe if he wasn’t so addicted to your body, your pussy, the noises he discovers you make when he’s harsh with you, then maybe you’d be alright.

But there was no denying that he was hooked on everything about you.

“Cho..think i need a massage.” you groan, falling back onto the bed after a failed attempt at getting up. “my back’s so sore.”

“I-i’m sorry, baby, I—“

You cut him off with a kiss; one that diminishes his every worry and gives him reassurance. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

Nodding, you turn around onto your stomach, hissing at the pain in your limbs—he had really stretched you to your limit tonight. “Yeah, just, massage please.”

With a hum of acknowledgment, Choso begins to rub your back, his big hands working at the knots in your shoulders, and he smiles with every sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

By the time he’s done, you’re just about ready to have him fuck you again with the way that he’s touching you so sensually—but the gross, sticky feeling between your legs cancels out that thought.

But a pleased sigh leaves your lips—you have the perfect boyfriend and idea to get rid of that.

“Cho, baby, let’s shower.”

[sluttywonwoo]

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately. 

“Found you,” he whispers. 

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak. 

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist. 

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him. 

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short. 

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead. 

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you. 

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night. 

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes.  He does the same. 

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated. 

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation. 

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen. 

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it. 

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“This isn’t my room,” he says. 

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air. 

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment. 

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. 

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

 “I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either. 

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you. 

“Are you disappointed?” 

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies. 

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does. 

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face. 

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers. 

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time. 

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself. 

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs. 

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces. 

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation? 

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?” 

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

-

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away. 

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there. 

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs. 

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.  

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.  

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over. 

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance. 

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time. 

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall. 

“Now, hop up on the counter.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it. 

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods. 

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.” 

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead. 

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie. 

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.” 

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted. 

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy. 

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on. 

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.  

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs. 

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back. 

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth. 

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest. 

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.” 

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share. 

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly. 

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly. 

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more. 

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often? 

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him. 

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands. 

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.   

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him. 

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge. 

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting. 

 After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles. 

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses. 

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will. 

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely. 

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration. 

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”  

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else. 

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together. 

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter. 

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.  

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you. 

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?” 

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you.