#if you want me to do something you ask so I can say no
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nochepsicodelica · 2 days ago
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NSFW
"Don't forget how badly you said you wanted this when it gets to be too much, 'kay, mama?"
A warning that you paid no mind to and instead giggled at, because Toji kissed your knuckles and your forehead when he finished binding your wrists together. You thought he wouldn't be too hard on you, and even if he was, you have a trick up your sleeve. You know that if you beg hard enough with shimmering eyes, he becomes a little more lenient. He eases up on you and gentleness starts to seep into his actions.
Well, that didn't work. Not this time. This time, he wanted to give you everything you asked for and more.
"Fuck..." Toji groans. "Look at that, ma." He displays his cum soaked, glistening fingers and shows you an update on the juices that have made their way down his wrist. "Come on, open your eyes and look," he says, patting your thigh.
Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes flutter open, your dim, weary gaze darting to the face of the man inflicting all these varying sensations your body is feeling.
"Not at my mug. Look at my hand and my forearm," Toji instructs, trying hard not to smirk at how utterly debauched you look. You look like you're going to cry, again. "Messy girl, you did that."
You mumble something quiet and unintelligible, and like a shark, Toji devours your pathetic attempt to speak. "Louder. I know you can be louder, or do you need some encouragement?" He asks, ghosting the knuckle of his index finger along your slit, resulting in your body full on jolting.
"Sorry!" You cry out, loud enough to have Toji laughing at your frantic repetition. "I said-- said i'm sorry," you stutter out, your voice unsteady.
You're ruined, yet somehow, this is a sight that has Toji's heart racing, like he's falling in love with you for the millionth time. It puts him through a conflict. It makes him want to be nice to you, it also makes him want to add on to your ruin, but more than anything, it sadistically makes him want to see you cry, again.
"Don't be sorry. This is what you wanted, right?" Toji groans, quietly, as he lies back down on his stomach, eyes focusing on your glistening cunt, again. "Wanted me to make you cry from the intensity of it all? Said you could handle being overstimulated, didn't you, ma?" His thumb drags up your slit, slow enough to have your inner thighs trembling as he makes his way up towards your overly sensitive clit. "Stay there," he commands, when you squirm the slightest bit away from him. He goes again, this time, dragging the pads of his index and middle fingers through your slicked folds.
"T-Toji," you whimper, your abdomen clenching and quivering with every one of his touches. "Toji, I--" you gasp, feeling the warmth of his tongue dragging through your folds and when you feel his fingers grazing your entrance, you can't help but whimper in anticipation for what's to come.
"Why are you shaking?" Toji asks, looking up at you, condescendingly. You can't scramble quickly enough to respond, before he's feeding his fingers into your drooling cunt. "Wanna cum?" He asks, taking in the sight of your returning tears with a menacing smirk. You don't know what to say, because on one hand, you get another orgasm, but on the other hand, you know you are going to be pushed past pleasure. "Yeahhh, you do. Look at that pretty face. Gonna make you cum so hard," he purrs, curling his fingers inside of you.
You don't know if you'll make it out of this one. You feel like you're being launched into heaven every time he makes you cum with his fingers and his mouth, but it's an immediate, full speed plummet to hell when he keeps going—keeps rubbing your clit while you spasm and practically choke on your breaths.
"Right there?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in the sounds of your moans. They're higher in pitch, quicker, and constantly interrupted by your sharp gasps. "Oh fuck," he growls. "That's it, huh?"
"I-I'm--" you whimper, "--fuck, fuck." Your chest heaves, your back slightly arching off the bed. "Toji," you call, frenzied by the overwhelming sensations. "I'm gonna die..." you blurt. "G-Gonna die," you cry out, tears spilling down the corners of your eyes and treading down your cheeks.
Toji watches, amusedly, as you struggle to figure out what to do while he keeps building you up. The mobility of your hands is limited due to your wrists being bound together, but your palms are dented by your nails to all hell. You barely have control of your legs, because even though they aren't restrained, Toji handles them however he needs to in order to give you what you asked for without you trying to stop him.
"You're fine. You can take it," he says, over the lewd, squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you. "Last one, and you're giving me ten seconds."
"N-No!"
"Yes," he insists. "It's the last one, gotta make it a-"
It's unexpected, the wet mess you make all over Toji's hand, your thighs, and the sheets. You feel like your whole body is buzzing and your toes are curled so tightly that your feet are starting to hurt from the strain.
The countdown starts the second you start squirming and pressing your hips into the mattress. Toji's arms are hooked around your thighs, holding them open and still so he can use his mouth on you for all ten of those seconds and make a mess out of your overstimulated cunt. His lips are latched around your clit, one of his fingers pumping in and out of you, while you shake and pathetically sob from the borderline painful amount of stimulation. The skin of your palms must be broken by now from how hard you've been digging into them.
"Toj--" you barely manage, before your chest is heaving and racking out another sob.
The ten seconds are up, and Toji immediately eases off of you, releasing your visibly trembling legs so that you can move as you please. He crawls up the bed and sits beside you, quickly undoing the binding of your wrists and tossing the strip away.
"I know... I know, doll," Toji coos, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks. He doesn't instantly scoop you up into his arms, because you not wanting to be touched is definitely a possibility. He just sits there, by your side, and attempts to verbally soothe you while you work to compose yourself. "Just breathe, mama. It's all done. You're gonna be okay."
Once your breathing is more calm and you're not so rattled, he works his way up to touching you, starting with your shaky hands and the crescent shapes that litter your palms. He carefully runs his thumbs over the little marks, monitoring your reaction to make sure he isn't hurting you. He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, moving along each of your fingers and ending where his focus is needed most—your palms.
"You good, ma?" Toji asks, lying down on his side, facing you. He's still not pulling you into his arms, but one of his legs is pressed against yours, just to have some sort of physical contact with you.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, offering a soft smile. "It was just..." you hum, thinking.
"Intense?" Toji cuts in, to which you nod. "But I didn't hurt you too bad? You're alright?"
"Yes, baby," you assure. "I would've used my safe word if it was too much for me to handle. We touched on that before we started this, remember?" Your hand goes to cup his cheek, but he intercepts it by grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, again.
"Don't be scared to use that word, ma. Don't ever push your boundaries for me, alright? I don't give a fuck if i'm about to bust. If you're not feeling it, we're gonna stop, okay? The last thing I wanna do is to traumatize you."
"Jesus fuck, you're so sexy," you murmur, curling up into him. Your hand splays over his abdomen and rubs slowly, a simple gesture that makes his cock start throbbing and twitching in his sweats, the longer you do it. "Yes, Toji. I won't ever hesitate," you assure, your words promised, physically, through a kiss. The feeling of your lips against his, only further fuels his arousal. You can feel the way he impatiently kisses you back, like he's trying to inhale you. The way he grips your hip and pulls you so that your body is pressed against him, further communicates his need for more of you.
"I'll be so gentle with you, doll," he mumbles, into your neck, pressing kisses to it, afterwards. "Please? Let me treat you right, this time."
You giggle as he continues murmuring quiet little pleas into your neck, through kisses.
"I wanted you to do it, baby, but alright, treat me your way. The right way."
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lizziesangel · 2 days ago
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RAFE CAMERON - not for the money
x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: you are scared that rafe thinks you’re only in the relationship for his money
WORD COUNT: 833
GENRE: fluff
CONTENT WARNING: soft!rafe cameron
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the scent of saltwater and pine carried through the open balcony door of rafe cameron’s bedroom, where you perched, fidgeting with the hem of your sundress. it had been a week since you overheard them—the cruel whispers in the back of the country club that claimed you were only with Rafe for his money.
“she’s so lucky,” one girl had sneered. “he pays for everything. i wouldn’t lift a finger either if i had a guy like that.”
“she’s totally using him,” one said, her tone dripping with disdain. “i mean, look at her. rafe’s always paying for everything.”
“right?” the other chimed in. “hair, nails, those dinners? she’s just in it for the money.”
another had laughed. “she just loves the chanel.”
the words striked you like a blow. was that really how people saw you? you’d never thought of yourself as someone who’d take advantage of him, but now, doubt crept in, wrapping around your chest like a vise.
their words kept echoeing in your head as rafe entered the room, his usual confident swagger softened by the adoration in his eyes. he set a bag from your favorite boutique on the dresser—a clear sign that he’d picked up yet another surprise for you.
“hey, sweet girl,” he said, crossing the room to kiss your temple. “i got you something.”
your chest tightened, guilt swarming you.
“baby,” you started, forcing a smile as you turned to face him. “you didn’t have to—”
“i wanted to,” he interrupted, his brows knitting together. “what’s mine is yours, sweet girl. you know that.”
you hesitated, the nagging doubts pulling at your resolve. if the people at the club thought you were a gold digger, you couldn’t stand the idea of him believing it too.
so, that’s when you decided: no more gifts, no more dates entirely on his dime. you were going to prove that you loved him for him.
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the next week, your new approach to things began to show.
at your usual dinner spot, when the waiter brought the check, you quickly grabbed it before rafe could.
“what are you doing?” Rafe asked, blinking at you in confusion.
“splitting it,” you said firmly, pulling out your card.
“splitting?” He looked at you like you’d spoken a foreign language. “babe, no, put that away.”
“rafe,” you insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument. “i’m paying for my half.”
he frowned, but he let you do it. that frown deepened over the next few days as he noticed more changes: no more nail or hair appointments showing up on his credit card statement, no impromptu shopping trips with bags of chanel or prada waiting at your apartment.
by the time your next date rolled around, he’d had enough.
“okay,” he said, sliding into the booth across from you at the diner. “spill.”
“spill what?” you asked innocently, focusing intently on your menu.
“don’t play coy, sweet girl. i know you. you’ve been acting weird all week. no more letting me pay, no more gifts—what’s going on?”
you sighed, setting the menu down. “i just… i overheard some people at the club. they think i’m using you just for your money. and i don’t want you to ever think that too.”
his expression softened instantly, and he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.
“baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.”
you looked at him, surprised by his reaction. “rafe—”
“no, listen to me,” he said firmly. “i don’t care what those people say. they don’t know you. i know you. you’ve been there for me when no one else has. you’ve stuck around through my worst. you think i’m dumb enough to think it’s about the money?”
you blinked, his words sinking in.
“i buy you things because i can and want to,” he continued. “because you deserve the world, and i want to give it to you. not because i think you need it, or because i think it’s the only way to keep you around. got it?”
tears pricked at your eyes, and you nodded. “i just… i didn’t want you to feel like i was taking advantage of you.”
he chuckled softly, standing up to slide into the booth beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“sweet girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. don’t let some jealous nobodies make you think otherwise.”
you leaned into him, a small smile creeping onto your face.
“okay,” you whispered.
“good,” he said, pulling out his card as the waiter approached. “now let me pay for dinner, and stop being weird.”
you laughed, swatting at his chest. “fine, rafe. you win.”
and as you sat there, wrapped in his arms, you finally let yourself believe it—rafe cameron loved you for you as you loved rafe cameron for rafe cameron.
and that was more valuable than anything money could buy.
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harrysfolklore · 1 day ago
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christ-max -mv1
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summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k
folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.
The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .
"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."
Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"
"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.
"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."
Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.
Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"
"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"
"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"
You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."
He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"
"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."
Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"
"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."
Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"
"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."
"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"
You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"
Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"
"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."
He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"
You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."
"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."
"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.
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You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.
"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.
"Better?"
"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.
You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."
There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.
"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."
"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"
You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."
There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"
"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."
Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"
"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.
Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"
"The very same one, Rubes."
Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"
"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"
"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."
You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."
"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."
Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"
"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."
After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.
"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.
You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."
Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"
"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."
"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."
"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."
Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"
"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."
"I can handle that," he says confidently.
"And recite all the lines?"
"…Maybe not that."
"And act out the scenes with her?"
Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"
You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."
"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."
The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.
"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"
"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."
"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"
"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."
"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.
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"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.
"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."
Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."
"Mom, I've told you a million times-"
"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.
"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.
Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"
Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.
"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"
"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.
"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"
The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."
Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.
"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."
You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.
"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.
The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.
"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.
Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."
"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.
"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.
"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."
Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"
"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.
Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"
"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."
"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"
"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"
Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.
Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"
"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"
"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."
Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.
"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."
"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"
"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.
"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"
"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"
As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.
"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.
He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."
"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.
"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.
Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.
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The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.
"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"
"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.
"Even in the snow?"
"Even in the snow."
Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.
"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."
Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"
"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.
Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."
"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.
Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"
"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.
"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.
"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."
Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.
You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.
Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."
"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."
"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.
"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.
"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.
Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"
"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.
"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"
Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.
"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."
"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.
"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"
Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.
Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."
"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.
Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"
"Dad!"
"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"
You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"
Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.
"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.
"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."
She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."
"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.
Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.
It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.
"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"
Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.
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Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.
You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.
"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"
You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."
"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."
"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."
He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."
"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.
Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"For what?"
"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."
You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."
"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"
"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."
Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.
"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.
This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.
"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"
She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.
"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.
"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"
You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."
In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.
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The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.
"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.
"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"
"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.
You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.
"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.
He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."
Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:
"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"
Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."
"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."
"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"
"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.
"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"
Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"
"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"
"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."
"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."
"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"
You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
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The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.
"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"
"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."
"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.
"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."
Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"
At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"
"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.
Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.
"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.
Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"
She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"
"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."
Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"
"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."
Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"
"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."
Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.
Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.
"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."
Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"
"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"
"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."
Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"
"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.
"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"
"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.
Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"
"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"
He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.
Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.
"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.
Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.
"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."
"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.
You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"
"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.
When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.
Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.
"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.
"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"
"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.
"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"
You both laugh against each other's lips.
"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.
"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.
"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.
Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."
"Dad!"
"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.
Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."
You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."
"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.
Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.
"Best Christmas ever," you agree.
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 1 day ago
Text
Under the Mistletoe
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando really wants you to kiss him under the mistletoe. Sounds normal enough, right? Wrong! So wrong
Warnings: 18+ content and description of an allergic reaction
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The apartment is finally quiet. The muffled thrum of conversation and laughter that had filled every corner just hours ago has faded, leaving only the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room. It smells like pine needles, spiced cider, and the faint citrus tang of your new body wash. You pad softly down the hallway in your slippers, the wooden floor cool beneath your feet.
“Lando?” You call, peeking into the dimly lit bedroom.
He’s there, of course, but the sight that greets you isn’t what you expect.
Lando is lying on his back, smack in the middle of the bed, arms folded behind his head like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s wearing nothing. Absolutely nothing … except for a single, strategic adornment. Tied with what looks like a strip of red ribbon, a sprig of mistletoe dangles provocatively from his dick.
“Seriously?” You stop in the doorway, blinking. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Happy Christmas,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s an invitation.” He tilts his head slightly, his curls a messy halo against the pillow. “You’ve got to kiss me.”
“Oh, I’ve got to, have I?” You fold your arms, biting back a smile.
“Under the mistletoe,” he clarifies, as if that makes it any less ridiculous. “It’s the rules. I don’t make them.”
“You absolutely made this up.”
Lando shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “Does it matter?”
You stand there for a moment, torn between amusement and disbelief. “You know, normal people just leave cookies for Santa. Not …” You gesture vaguely at him, at the ribbon, at everything.
“Not everything has to be normal,” he says, his grin softening slightly. There’s something teasing in his tone, but there’s sincerity, too. “Come on, it’s Christmas. Don’t leave me hanging.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you love me for it.”
There’s no point denying it. You do love him — ridiculous, over-the-top antics and all. With a sigh that’s more for show than anything else, you take a few steps closer to the bed.
“Alright,” you say, pretending to consider. “Where exactly am I supposed to kiss you? The mistletoe’s not even …” You trail off, waving a hand vaguely in the air.
Lando smirks, his eyes dancing. “Where do you think?”
“You’re unbelievable,” you say again, but you’re already climbing onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and Lando watches, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re not protesting much,” he points out.
“Shut up.”
“You could have just stayed in the doorway, you know. Told me off or something. But no, here you are-”
“Lando,” you cut in, leaning over him.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, cutting off whatever smug reply he had planned. His hands slide instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss him.
It’s not rushed. The night has been long, full of people and noise and obligations, and this moment feels like a welcome reprieve. Lando’s mouth is warm, insistent but unhurried, and you let yourself get lost in it for a while, your fingers tangling in his hair.
When you finally pull back, he looks up at you, flushed and grinning.
“Good start,” he says, his voice a little breathless.
“Don’t push your luck.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Really?”
“Okay, maybe a little,” he admits, his grin widening.
Shaking your head, you shift your attention downward. The ribbon, the mistletoe — it’s so absurd you have to laugh.
“Did you seriously tie this yourself?” You ask, running a finger lightly along the edge of the ribbon.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Fine, yes. Took me a solid twenty minutes, too. Those stupid YouTube tutorials make it look way easier than it is.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, “you’re still here.”
You meet his gaze, your laughter fading. The teasing, playful look in his eyes hasn’t disappeared, but there’s something else there now — something softer, more vulnerable. It’s the look he gets when he’s reminding you, without words, just how much you mean to him.
“Well,” you say quietly, “it is Christmas.”
“And you’ve got to follow the rules,” he murmurs.
“Right.”
The bed creaks slightly as you shift again, positioning yourself more comfortably. You lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips — gentler this time, more lingering. Then you trail kisses along his jaw, his collarbone, the faint dusting of freckles across his chest.
Lando lets out a soft, contented sigh, his hands finding your hips again. “You’re taking this very seriously,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement.
“I’m nothing if not thorough.”
“Lucky me.”
You glance up at him briefly, smirking. “You’ve no idea.”
When you finally reach the ribbon, you pause, your lips hovering just above it. Lando’s breathing hitches slightly, his grip on your waist tightening.
“Merry Christmas, Lando,” you murmur.
“Best Christmas ever,” he replies, his voice low and fervent.
And then, with deliberate slowness, you kiss him under the mistletoe.
You pause for a beat, the mistletoe brushing lightly against your cheek. Lando’s breathing is heavier now, his chest rising and falling beneath you. He’s trying to stay still, but his fingers dig into your skin, betraying how much control he’s losing.
“You alright up there?” You ask, teasing, your voice low.
“You know I’m not,” he mutters, his words strained.
“Good.”
And with that, you continue. Deliberate. Unhurried. Every movement of your mouth is purposeful, every touch designed to unravel him. Lando groans, low and broken, the sound rumbling through the quiet room like a storm on the horizon.
“Fuck, you’re …” He cuts himself off, his head tipping back into the pillow. His hands flex against your hips, as if holding you steady is the only thing grounding him.
“Say it,” you murmur, barely pulling away for a second.
He glances down at you, his hazel eyes dark and glassy. “You’re killing me,” he manages, his voice hoarse.
You smile, the corners of your mouth curving just slightly before you return to your task. Lando’s hands slip from your shoulders, clutching the sheets instead. He’s completely undone now — his breathing ragged, his head thrown back, his body trembling beneath you.
“F-fuck … close,” he stammers, his words tumbling out like he’s barely holding them together.
You hum softly in acknowledgment, the vibration of it drawing a sharp, involuntary gasp from him. It’s all he can take.
He breaks.
A strangled sound escapes his throat as his body tenses, and you taste the telltale musky warmth on your tongue. You stay where you are for a moment, letting him ride out the high, his grip on the sheets going slack.
When it’s over, you pull back slowly, swallowing before wiping at the corner of your mouth. One drop clings stubbornly to your lip, and you swipe it away with your thumb, catching Lando’s hazy, satisfied gaze as you do.
“You alright there?” You ask softly, your tone light but full of affection.
“Barely,” he mutters, his voice thick. He exhales sharply, his chest still heaving as he lets his head fall to the side, watching you with a dazed grin. “You’re-”
“What?” You tilt your head innocently, wiping your hand on a tissue before tossing it onto the nightstand.
“Perfect,” he finishes, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just the moment.
You laugh quietly, crawling up the bed to lie beside him. He pulls you close immediately, one arm draped over your waist, the other brushing back a strand of hair from your face.
“Was this your master plan all along?” You tease, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Maybe,” he admits, still catching his breath.
“And?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” He grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
You roll your eyes but smile against his skin. “Merry Christmas, Lando.”
“Happy Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment.
For a moment, neither of you says anything more. The only sound is the quiet crackle of the fire in the distance, and the world beyond the bedroom feels miles away.
Eventually, Lando breaks the silence. “So … same thing next year?”
You shove him playfully, laughing as his grin widens. “Go to sleep.”
And with him wrapped around you, the warmth of his love settling over you like a blanket, you do.
***
The morning light creeps through the curtains, warm and soft, a stark contrast to the frantic energy in the room. You stir awake first, stretching lazily until you feel Lando shift beside you, letting out a low, uncomfortable groan.
“Ugh,” he mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean, wrong?” You mumble sleepily, rolling over to look at him.
He doesn’t respond immediately, just shifts again, his body stiff and tense. Then he sits up abruptly, wincing as if every movement hurts.
“Lando?” You ask, more alert now.
“It … hurts,” he says, glancing down at himself. “Like, bad.”
You follow his gaze, and that’s when you see it. The redness. The swelling.
“Oh my God,” you say, your voice shooting up an octave. You sit up fully, the sleepiness disappearing in an instant. “What happened?”
“I don’t know!” He exclaims, his face a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “It was fine last night!”
“Well, it’s not fine now!” You scoot closer, carefully inspecting the irritated skin. It’s blotchy, bright red, and looks alarmingly angry.
“It’s swollen,” he groans.
“No kidding.”
“What do we do?” He asks, his voice bordering on frantic.
“First, calm down,” you say, though your own voice isn’t exactly steady. “Second … oh my God, Lando, do you think it’s the mistletoe?”
His eyes widen as the realization hits. “You think I’m allergic?”
“Do you have any idea where that stuff’s been stored? It’s probably coated in dust or pollen or something. Or-” Your voice catches. “Do you think you��ve always been allergic?”
“I’ve never, uh … put it on my cock before, so how would I know?”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, panic simmering between you.
“We need help,” Lando says finally.
“Like … a doctor?”
“No!” He yelps. “We’re not going to a doctor for this!”
“Then what-”
“Call Jon,” he blurts out, cutting you off.
“What?” You ask, incredulous. “Your performance coach?”
“Yeah! He knows, like, medical stuff. And he won’t make it weird.”
You raise a skeptical eyebrow but grab your phone anyway, scrolling to Jon’s number. “Oh, this isn’t going to be awkward at all,” you mutter as it rings.
“Hello?” Jon answers, sounding far too chipper for the situation.
“Uh, hi, Jon,” you begin, exchanging a look with Lando. “It’s Y/N. Lando and I have … a bit of a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Jon asks, his voice immediately shifting to professional concern.
“Well …” You trail off, glancing at Lando, who gestures frantically for you to continue. “It’s kind of … personal.”
“Y/N,” Jon says patiently, “you’re going to have to be a little more specific.”
You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Okay, fine. Lando’s … area is swollen and covered in a rash.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“… Come again?” Jon finally says, and you can practically hear him trying not to laugh.
“It’s not funny!” Lando shouts from the bed. “It’s serious!”
“Oh, it’s serious?” Jon repeats, his voice full of barely concealed amusement. “Alright. How did this happen?”
You hesitate, then mumble, “He … tied mistletoe to it last night.”
Jon doesn’t reply immediately, but the faint sound of him choking back laughter comes through the line.
“Can you help or not?” Lando snaps, his cheeks flushing red — whether from anger or embarrassment, you’re not sure.
“Okay, okay,” Jon says, his tone softening. “It’s probably an allergic reaction. Clean the area thoroughly, apply a topical antihistamine if you have one, and keep it elevated to reduce swelling.”
“Elevated?” You echo, frowning. “How are we supposed to-”
“Just do your best,” Jon says, clearly suppressing a laugh again. “And if it doesn’t improve in a few hours, you might need to, uh … consult a professional.”
“Thanks, Jon,” you say quickly, hanging up before Lando can yell again.
Lando groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This is the worst Christmas ever.”
“You’ll survive,” you say, grabbing the first-aid kit from the bathroom. “Now, let me see.”
“This is humiliating,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you sit beside him, carefully applying the ointment Jon suggested.
“Hold still,” you say gently, your touch careful.
He winces but doesn’t complain further, watching you with a mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. After a few minutes, the redness looks slightly less angry, though the swelling is still noticeable.
Once you’re done, you sit back with a sigh, your hands on your knees. “Well, that was a bonding experience.”
Lando lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, not exactly what I had planned.”
You glance at him, your lips twitching upward despite everything. “So … was it worth it?”
He grins, some of his usual confidence returning. “Next year, I’ll make sure to have an epipen ready.”
You laugh, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Next year, maybe let’s stick to normal traditions. Like cookies. Or matching pajamas.”
“We’ll see,” he says, smirking as he leans back against the pillows. “I’ve still got a whole year to think of something even better.”
“God help us all,” you mutter, but there’s affection in your voice.
And despite the chaos, as you settle back into bed beside him, you can’t help but think it’s still a Christmas to remember.
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harmoonix · 3 days ago
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Christmas Observations
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🎄 One thing I observed at Aries placements is that they don't like it when the people around them are slow. They like everything to be fast and easy
🎄 Moon in earth signs gives me the vibes of a person nurturing everyone around them. That person who takes care of you when you are at your lowest
🎄 Capricorn houses may also indicate an area in your life where you need to finish something.
1st house - finishing topics about finding yourself
8th house - finishing topics on finding your inner power and rebirth after a painful situation
2nd house - finish financial debt. Never ask for money from others be independent
12th house - ending a karmic cycle that involves healing/subconscious trauma
6th house - focus on yourself, finish being critical about your needs
7th house - finish a karmic relationship/healing after a painful breakup
🎄 Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio and Sagittarius Sun/Rising/Venus are giving untamed energy. Is it not easy to make them follow you or to change them
🎄 Leo, Libra and Pisces placements can give you beautiful face features, eyes, lips, even hair, nose, etc
🎄 The Chiron sign in your parents birth chart can indicate what pain or wounds they have in this life and how it can manifest
🎄 If you have Pluto aspecting Mercury, sometimes you can regret the words you say to others because they tend to be quite painful/straightforward with their words
🎄 Cancer and Scorpio in the 7th house are big indicators that you want your partner to take care of you/to be nurtured, and to be understood emotionally
🎄 Leo/Sun in your 7th house can indicate you desire to be seen by your partner. People can overshadow you and you sometimes may not get the attention you need
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🎄 Chrion x Venus aspects can often indicate the person who is hurt romantically/hurt in a relationship/love. Also someone who has a hard time to understand love
🎄 12th & 6th house placements can put so much pressure on your mental health, especially if Pluto/Neptune or Saturn are involved
🎄People who have stellium in the 8th house often experience deja-vu moments, can also be triggers from the past or from bad people
🎄 If you have a high aspected Neptune in your chart, people can suck the energy out of you. People can feed with your energy, and you can become drained
🎄 9th house placements are very wise when considering decisions in their life. They will think 100% with their brain instead of heart. They can also be guided by older people
🎄 Capricorn Placements Sun/Moon/Rising like to be independent from a young age. They don't really like to rely on others and prefer to do it themselves alone.
🎄2nd house Venus can do well financially. They can be blessed with both beauty and money, but also beauty in their words/inside and out
🎄 Aquarius in your 7th house can indicate getting with a partner who is highly independent and friendly. You can have many things in common yet be so different
🎄 Moon x Moon synastry is not for the weak!! ESPECIALLY IF IS IN HARSH ASPECTS!! You won't do well in understanding each other fulfilments in a relationship
🎄 If your moon makes an opposite aspect with another moon (ex cancer x capricorn moon), you can expect a lot from the other person to not understand your emotions/how you feel
🎄 If you have high Saturn aspects in your chart, life gets better once you get older. You can feel like living in hell while you're younger, but it gets better with the years
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🎄 You can indimidate others once your Lilith makes an aspect with their sun or rising. They will feel also more curious about you
🎄 Venus in Fire signs can get more into situationships than real relationships, is ride or die with them. And they need 100000 years to think if they want a relationship or not. Once you're in a relationship with a fire Venus, they will change their energy in a more passionate/romantic one
🎄 Pisces/Neptune in your 7th house, what I love about these placements is that they create such strong bonds with their partners. Something that can last a lifetime
🎄 Mercury x Pluto aspects natives are good liars,they have a very mischievous energy surrounding them. Like a fox, which is very a unpredictable animal
🎄 Neptune x Mars natives can often have fights with their inner demons. Wanting to live in your own reality but being forced to live on earth
🎄Mercury ruled moon (Gemini, Virgo) can become quite anxious when they don't have a 2nd plan for a situation. Everything needs to be planned and calculated before
🎄 Aries/Mars in your 7th house can be an indicator for wanting to have a passionate & succeeding partner. Like you want someone who will never leave your side
🎄 Your moon sign can also tell you lots of things about how your mother felt when she was pregnant/before the time you were born, if she was anxious/scared, excited, and so on
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An early Christmas post 🎄🎄 enjoy!! Happy holidays to everyone 🥳🎄 by @harmoonix 💋🥳
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reignpage · 16 hours ago
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Lying To Himself
Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence
You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye. 
“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”
And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.
The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines. 
“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face. 
A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.
He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to balls naked in their own kitchen.
"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.
Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."
His friend gives him a look, half of amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.
It’s been great. Really fucking great. 
You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and makings sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you. 
It’s fine. 
At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.
More days pass just like that. 
And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxious loud, and suddenly he's realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the morning that’s always greener than the last. 
His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack, when it’s not from you. 
“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”
The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say. 
“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake. It’s like they didn’t even try.”
Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways? 
When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up. 
“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”
Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that. 
Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question. 
“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”
The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood. 
But what they don’t know is that you texted to let him know you’re staying another week. 
Fucking texted. 
Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice. 
He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out. 
The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home. 
“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”
Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh. 
The door handle rattles. 
He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing. 
You’re here. 
“Hey, Toji—“
Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble. 
“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”
His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute. 
“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”
Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat. 
“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”
“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion. 
He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”
Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”
Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.
It’s almost like…
No. 
It can’t be. 
Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure. 
Toji missed you. 
An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better. 
Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.
Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you. 
“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts. 
Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home. 
Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.
He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.
“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.” 
And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says, 
“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”
Yeah, this man totally missed you. 
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burnforyou · 2 days ago
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TUTOR - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER
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!SUMMARY! this COULD be a part 2 to creep but it can also be read as a stand alone. nerdy Luigi is tutoring reader and he gets head for the first time!!! he's subby (ish) and innocent <3 enjoy!
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“do you think you understand it now?” he asks, putting his pen down. you hesitate.
“can i ask you something?” you look up from the chemistry papers scattered on your desk to his face. how is he so pretty? he looks so ravishing in his perfect maroon sweater with a button up underneath. the color makes his skin glow.
from the moment he walked into your house, you'd been trying to come up with a plan to get him into your bed. and when you saw how hard he was under the table, you knew he was feeling the same way. had you purposefully worn small pajama shorts to try and tease him? yeah, maybe, but your plan was pretty successful, so you weren't ashamed.
little did you know, he's been hard since before he even entered your house. did the sight of your practically bare legs make it worse? yeah, definitely, but he'd been trying to calm himself down all day but nothing has seemed to do the trick. just the thought of walking into your home has had him worked up all week. when he saw you requesting tutoring he almost cried.
“sure, what’s up?” you place your manicured hand on his thigh and he stiffens. his eyebrows furrow and his dark eyes flicker between your hand and face.
“are you a virgin?” he freezes. is it that obvious? he sits there in silence for a few seconds, frozen. his mind goes completely blank, what do I even say? fuck, I have the most beautiful, smart, woman sitting in front of me and she wants to know if I'm a virgin?
“you don’t have to answer that, it’s just that-“
“i am.” he spoke up, looking away shamefully.
“no, no, no, i’m not judging you. i just noticed that, you uh, are kinda in a sticky situation down there and, i haven’t even touched you.” he looks down and tries to adjust the tent his hard cock has made in his jeans.
“don’t be ashamed," you slide your hand further up his thigh and move closer to him, "I just want to repay you for helping me so much, with chemistry and calc, if that's okay with you."
"yeah," he squeaks out, embarrassed at how high pitch his voice comes out. you suggest going up to your bedroom and he complies, following behind you silently. he struggles to tear his eyes away from your ass, watching it move up the stairs.
he plops down on the edge of the bed and you push him back until he's sat against your headboard. you crawl up the bed to him and sit on his lap. his hips buck and his mouth opens at the sudden friction on his already hard cock. he felt so overwhelmed: your scent surrounding him, being in your bed, you on top of him, for fucks sake.
you lean in and capture his lips with yours, his lips naturally molding against yours. you press your hands lightly on the sides of his neck. his hands stay awkwardly at his sides, gripping onto your sheets every time you grind on him through your thin pajama shorts. you break the kiss and smile down at him, holding his head carefully. he looks up at you with his doe eyes and a million thoughts swirl through his mind.
"you can touch me, you know that right?" you whisper.
he nods silently and hesitantly places his hands on your hips.
“has anyone ever touched you before?”
he shakes his head. you lean down and kiss him again. this time, he breaks the kiss with a question.
"are you sure you want to do this? you don't have to repay me for anything."
"oh I'm sure, I've been plotting on you for a while now."
"r-really?" he struggles to get out, shock evident in his voice.
"don't act all innocent now, I know that you think about me. I see you in class, looking at me the whole time. its just surprising that you're a virgin, especially for a handsome guy like you." his face flushes at your compliment, his lips threatening a smile. "now, let's get this sweater off, hm?"
he allows you to tear his maroon sweater off his body and discard it on your floor. you admire his abs by running your hands up and down his chest, content with yourself. he sits there and wonders how much you truly know about him, if you know he's truly a creep, deep down.
"do you want to know a secret?" you say, looking down at him. he nods eagerly and you laugh.
"you're so eager," you giggle. you lean down, putting your lips right on his ear teasingly. "I know that you watch me through my window."
his whole body stiffens and all the color drains from his face.
"I touched myself too that night." you say, smiling down at him. he's not sure what to do, whether he should be happy or ashamed. before he can come up with something to say, you're dragging your hands down his body, kissing all over him. you smirk as you kiss directly down his happy trail, finally reaching his waist band. you fiddle with the button and pull the zipper down smoothly.
he quickly picks his hips up, pulling down his jeans and boxers at the same time. you lick your lips at the sight of his heavy cock, so hard it sprang against his stomach.
you leaned up, connecting your lips with his once again and simultaneously reached down to grasp his cock. he broke the kiss with a gasp and he screwed his eyes shut tight at the feeling of your soft hand gripping him.
"you're so big," you say, looking down to admire his pulsing cock in your hand. his tip shone with pre-cum, red and needy. he whimpered at your compliment, his face almost as pink as his dick.
you bent down, pressed a kiss on his tip and licked down his length. he let out a noise similar to a whine.
"please," he whimpered. you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, looking up at him to watch his reaction. he squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. he instantly bucked his hips into you and groaned, your mouth welcoming him further.
"fuck," his hands flew to your head, gripping onto your hair. you wrapped your hand around his hairy base and moved your lips up and down his girth, settling into a gentle but fast pace.
"baby, oh," he whimpers, letting out a low, guttural sound when his tip hits the back of your throat. his chest rises and falls faster than he thought was humanly possible.
you keep taking him so deep it has tears streaking down your face and saliva down onto his balls. it felt like something straight out of his fantasies.
"y/n, just like that," his moans fill the room, making you weak. you come up for air, your lips letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop. he removes his hand from your hair and caresses your wet face.
"you're so perfect." he says, smiling. “it feels so much better than i’ve ever imagined.”
you go back down on his cock, completely taking him once again, never breaking eye contact. his tip hits the back of your throat and this time it has him shooting hot cum down your throat. he lets out a shocked groan and his head falls back, his Adams apple bobbing. you swallow all of it and lick down his cock, cleaning him off completely.
"fuck, I'm so sorry y/n, I didn't mean to cum so quick." he looks away, ashamed. you reach for him and force him to look at you.
"you're alright," you say, giggling again.
"it just felt so good, nothing like I've ever imagined." he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck. he suddenly realizes how vulnerable he is, sitting on your bed completely naked and fucked out of his mind while you're completely dressed and satisfied. he likes the power you hold over him.
months of yearning for you have all built up to this moment. he reaches for you and swings your leg over his lap, planting you on his already re-hardening cock. he leans into you and kisses you, finally full of confidence and a need to have all of you.
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have you ever tried this one?
I AM UNSTOPPABLE!!!!!!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS FREAKS!!!!!
!TAGS!
@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood
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yanderedrabbles · 2 days ago
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Yandere Werewolf
There's something terrorising your town every full moon. And a stroke of bad luck has you running into it more than once.
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There's something terrorising your town.
The chickens are turning up dead, torn apart with their feathers and blood clumped together all over the yard. The pigs spend every full moon squealing and running around their pens like they can smell a predator in the air. The hunters say there's strange tracks out in the deep woods, tracks bigger than any wolf they've ever seen.
And there's scratches on your door - deep, gouged out claw marks like something wants to dig its way into your house.
You try not to get worked up about it.
It's probably just a fox or a coyote, right? Everyone knows they steal a chicken now and then. And you've seen the six-packs of beer your dad takes when he goes hunting. Dog tracks look pretty damn big when you're drunk and it's dark out, don't they?
You try not to get worked up about it, but every full moon you double check your locks.
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You're squinting at the local paper when your best friend comes up behind you and slings his arm across your shoulders. He plucks the paper out of your hand and scoffs at the headline.
"Chickens found dead at McKinnly farm? No one should be surprised by that. Old McKinnly doesn't even have the coop properly fenced in."
"Hey! I wasn't done reading that."
He balls the paper up and tosses it into the dustbin with a smooth overhead throw.
"You are now. C'mon y/n, don't tell me you're buying into all this werewolf business too?"
Your best friend towers over you, every inch of him well bred, football star muscle. You have to crane your neck to properly glare at him.
"Don't be ridiculous. It's just sensational nonsense."
"Oh yeah? So you ain't scared of a big bad wolf breaking into your bedroom one night?"
It's your turn to scoff. "That's a pervert, not a wolf. How's a wolf even supposed to open a window?"
The school bell rings before he can give you an answer.
He groans. "I've got extra practice again tonight. Will you come watch me? We can get pizza after."
You grin. "Breaking News! Star quarterback needs his favourite cheerleader around to make life bearable."
He flicks your forehead. "Damn right I do. So whatcha say?"
"Sure. Someone's gotta be around to keep you on your toes."
It's only when he's long out of sight that you remember - you're one night away from the full moon.
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He destroys his team mates at practice. When he's pounding down the field, head down and his fingers curled like claws around the ball, he almost looks inhuman.
After practice, he catches you before you can scramble away and rubs his sweaty face all over you.
"Ewwww." You shove him at him unsuccessfully. "You do that every time! It's so gross!"
"Gotta be faster than that squirt," he laughs.
By the time he's done in the locker room, you've already ordered pizza for the both of you.
You head up to the overlook, his old Mustang growling down the highway.
The overlook is exactly what it sounds like - a hill high over town with a great view of the twinkling streets far below. It's a clear night, and the almost full moon casts a silvery shadow over everything.
He slings his arm across the back of your seat and complains when you pick the olives off your side of the pizza.
"God, I hope your taste in men is better than your taste in pizza."
"My taste in men and pizza are equally questionable, thank you very much."
He laughs, "At least you're self aware. Speaking of guys, I know Murrey from Algebra asked you to prom, and Dave from Homeroom."
You groan. "How did you even hear about that?"
"I've got ears like a wolf." He turns to face you. "What did you tell them?"
"I said no. You and I go together every year."
"Atta girl." He sounds pleased.
You offer him some of your discarded olives and he bites them straight out of your fingers.
"Y'know, lots of girls were awfully disappointed you didn't ask them. When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend, mister star quarterback?"
He leans down and ruffles your hair. "I got you in my life, don't I? That's plenty."
Eventually, his arm finds it's way to your shoulder, and he pulls you against his side. He's warmer than you and when you curl up against him, he smirks and says that's what you get for being hopelessly under dressed.
There's an old love song on the radio and you fall asleep with your hand knotted in his jacket.
He drives home extra slow and when he shakes you awake, his hands linger on your waist.
You rub your eyes groggily. "Goodnight mister wolf."
You're already halfway up the driveway before he replies, his voice too soft to hear.
"Goodnight little lamb."
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On the night of the full moon, you wake up to a cloudy sky and your dog scratching at your bedroom door to be let out.
You struggle into your slippers and mutter about better toilet training. When you open the back door, he slips past your legs and shoots off into the trees. Yawning, you rest your elbows on the porch railing and try not to fall asleep.
It's only when you hear him yelping that you come awake fully.
"Cruiser? What's wrong boy?"
The street lights reach all the way to the edge of your lawn but the trees beyond are black dark. You make you way down carefully, your sense of unease growing with every whistle he ignores.
Your dad left his old wind up torch near the shed and you grab it. It whirs to life with a dull flicker.
Cruiser is whimpering louder now. You follow the sound of it, ducking under branches and trying not to slip in your flimsy slippers.
The clouds clear and for a minute or two, the forest is bright enough that you barely need the torch. You find Crusier backed up against a tree, his tail tucked between his legs. He ignores you when you call him, staring out into the dark and whining like you've never heard before.
"What's wrong boy? What's out there?"
You can't help the fear you feel. Your dog is hard to scare and you've never seen him this frightened.
Twigs snap in the gloom and you swing your torch around wildly. You try and tell yourself that it might be a deer, wandering in from the deep forest. But all you can think about is the local paper.
"Chickens torn apart. Vet suspects large wolf on the prowl."
But it can't be here, right? You're practically on the main road. You reach down and grab Cruiser's collar, your heart racing. The dog barely acknowledges you when you tug on it.
"Heel Cruiser. C'mon boy."
You try and whisper, but your voice comes out high and nervous. His whimper changes into a low growl that vibrates through his collar.
That's when the moon comes out again. And you see the werewolf.
It's coat is dark and thick, and it's crouched halfway behind a tree. Less than twenty feet away.
How the hell did it get so close without you hearing it?! Adrenaline slams into you and your heart skips into overdrive. You turn on your heel and run.
The funny thing about adrenaline is the way your own body takes control. You duck under branches before your conscious mind even realises they're there. You run faster than you ever thought possible, trees streaking by in black blurs.
You hear footsteps behind you but you can't tell if it's Cruiser or the wolf. You don't bother checking. You just keep your head down and sprint like the Devil is on your heels. Hell, he might be.
The werewolf catches you just as you break out of the tree-line. It slams into you from the side and sends you sprawling.
As you scramble to your knees, you get your first good look at the terror of the town. It's bigger than any wolf you've ever seen. Closer to the size of a small grizzly, with the thick fur to match. It's down on all fours, but it's forelegs are unusually long. It's paws are strangely misshapen and for a second, they look almost like hands. It's body feels more ape than wolf.
Oh, but it's teeth are all canine. All sharp, curving fangs, shining with spit.
It sniffs the air and with a start you realise that you're bleeding. Your palms are sliced up from trying to cushion your fall. Blood, you think numbly. Blood is supposed to make carnivores more aggressive. Whett their appetite.
Staring up at its drooling maw and narrowed eyes, you find it hard to believe anything could be more bloodthirsty.
It lunges for your throat and if it weren't for Cruiser, you'd be dead.
The dog shoots out from the forest, barking loud enough to wake the neighbourhood. He jumps at the creature's back, sinking his teeth into the fleshy muscle where neck and shoulder meet.
The werewolf roars.
It reaches up and tears Cruiser off with one nasty yank. Your dog thuds into the ground with an ugly cracking sound.
You scream - half terror and half rage. Cruiser is trying to stand, but can't manage it. One paw hangs uselessly. Oh, your poor, brave dog.
You act without thinking.
You lunge forward and punch straight at the werewolf's nose. It's hard and wet, and your fist keeps going even after contact. His teeth leave shallow cuts on your knuckles.
The werewolf yelps. Like a kicked puppy.
It backs away a few steps before lowering it's head and snarling. It gears up for another pounce.
That's when your daddy shoots it. The blast from his shotgun knocks the werewolf right out of the air.
It crashes down and scrambles to its feet. Its head swings wildly between you and your father. It growls one final time before turning on its heel and bounding into the trees.
How the hell could it even stand after a blast like that? You shudder, your eyes fixed on the trees.
You can hear your dad on the phone, frantically reporting to the Sheriff's office. You sink to your knees next to Cruiser. He draws his eyes up to yours and whines.
"My brave boy..." You stroke his head with the back of your hand and accidentally stain his fur with blood. "I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."
He cranes his neck and licks the tears off your cheek. Just like when he was a puppy. You laugh, high and hysterical. And once you start, you can't stop.
Somewhere in the forest, the wolf howls.
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You can't sleep at all after that. And when the Deputies question you, it takes almost all night. They don't believe you entirely, but the tracks their dogs pick up are strange enough to garner a few nervous looks.
You're on the porch, clutching a warm drink and watching the sunrise, when your best friend finds you.
He sweeps you up in a crushing hug, his cheek pressed firmly against your hair.
"Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard."
You pull away, confused. He cups your face in his hand and gently twists it left and right, scanning for any cuts or bruises.
"What? Who told you?"
He cooks his head. "You did. A few minutes ago."
Did you? You don't remember calling him. But you're tired and frightened. Maybe you just can't remember everything.
He sits you down on the porch swing and carefully inspects your palms while you tell him what happened.
"It wasn't a wolf. You believe me right? I saw it clear as day."
"You were pumped up on adrenaline and fighting for your life. You can't be sure what you saw." He sighs, "Maybe it was a wolf or maybe it was a bear or maybe it was some exotic animal that we've never heard about. But really y/n, it sure as hell wasn't a werewolf."
"Yeah... but..."
In the daylight, werewolves and horror feel silly. Illogical. You aren't a kid anymore, you shouldn't be letting your imagination run wild. There's definitely a reasonable explanation.
But every time you think about it, the more sure you feel. That creature was nothing normal or logical at all. It was wrong. Anatomy all out of proportion, eyes too bright and aware, the smell of it more like human sweat than dog musk.
No, you didn't imagine any of it. It wasn't a wolf at all.
"How's Cruiser doing?"
You take a sip of your drink and try not to cry. "Not good. The emergency vet came by and rushed him to surgery. Multiple broken bones they say, maybe some internal bleeding."
He sucks in a breath. "Oh y/n, I'm so sorry."
He opens his arms and you curl up against him gratefully. His letterman jacket is soft against your skin and the smell of him envelopes you.
"I still remember the day you got him for me," you say.
He rubs soothing circles across your back.
"He was such a runt back then. All eyes and big floppy ears. When you pulled him out of your jacket, I didn't realise he was a puppy. I thought you got me some weird stuffed teddy."
He laughs. "I tried putting a bow on him y'know. But he kept tryna bite my fingers off."
You laugh too. "I could never figure out why he didn't like you."
"Jealousy I say. Didn't want me to steal you away."
You punch his arm, smiling. "You're the only guy who'll compete with a dog for my attention."
"If that's what it takes. Put a leash on me right now if you want."
You scoff and curl up closer against him. "I would but they don't come in your size big guy."
You're too tired to notice the bruise on your best friend's nose, or the way he flinches when you touch his side. For a little while, you make the awful mistake of forgetting about the beast.
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Prom comes faster then you expect. Your dress gets measured and tailored and steamed. You spend days practicing different hair styles. Cruiser limps around behind you, whining for treats like he wasn't touch and go just a month ago. The moon grows thin and then round again.
When you pull up at your best friend's house, his parents are on their way to a party of their own. His mother gives you a peck on the cheek and says you look stunning and to not forget the keys when you leave.
You laugh and wave them off and almost forget about the full moon streaming through the trees.
The house is quiet and you make your way to his room, your heels hanging from your fingers.
"Hey princess!" You knock on his door. "Are you ready yet? I'm coming in!"
You open the door to an empty room, his tux still on its hanger.
"Oh. My. God. How are you still not done?"
You can hear the shower running and you pound at the door. "We're gonna be late! I swear I'm going to kill you when you get out of there."
No response.
"Hey! I know you can hear me!"
Still nothing.
You try the handle and the door swings open a crack. Steam billows out and you slap a hand over your eyes before you can see anything too revealing.
"Hurry it up! We're gonna miss all the good songs if you don't get dressed soon. Do you really wanna slow dance to something Mr Jared the gym teacher picks out?"
You hear the slap of footsteps on wet tile and breath a sigh of relief. "Did all that football practice knock your ears outta wack? I've been yelling at you since I got here."
Something growls, low and deep.
Your eyes shoot open and you step back. But you're still too slow to react and the werewolf leaps at you. Its heavier than a man and you tumble to the floor together, its paws pinning you down by the shoulders.
Its snout is right in front of your face, almost touching your nose. Lips curl away from awfully long fangs.
It growls almost like a man, almost like it's saying, "Mine."
You scream, kicking and tossing and failing to get away. It's claws prick holes in the satin of your dress and draw little beads of blood.
You scream your best friend's name, terrified that the beast got him too. You're going to die, you think desperately, you're going to die and your poor mother won't even be able to refund your prom dress. If you weren't screaming, you might have laughed.
But the monster doesn't kill you.
Instead, it licks the tears off your cheek. Just like Cruiser did a month ago. It growls again, but the sound is lighter. Pleased almost.
You grow still, confused and terrified of provoking it. Your best friend's room is cluttered with football gear - trophies and jerseys and signed helmets. The moon shines dully off all of it. And you're in the very centre, with a monster pinning you to the ground.
The moon dips behind a cloud and the werewolf changes right before your eyes. Hair and snout receding, his eyes darkening from wolf amber to warm brown.
It's only his teeth that stay the same. All sharp points that peak through his lips.
Your best friend is on top of you, totally naked and still warm from the shower.
"I didn't want to hurt you y/n, I swear."
His voice is lower somehow, like the wolf's growl is just under the surface.
You're too shocked to move. Too shocked to scream. This must be a dream. It's too surreal to be real.
He leans down and kisses you on the cheek. "I wanted to tell you. But it would have sounded crazy. I grow claws and teeth on the full moon? I heal faster than I used to? I can smell when you're ovulating and when you're on your period?"
He pulls back and tilts his head. "When we were kids, we promised we wouldn't keep secrets. And now you know."
"You...you were outside my house that night."
He laughs. "I'm outside your house every night dummy. That was just the night you caught me."
"Why?"
He shakes his head the way he always does when you say something dumb. "To keep you safe. To keep other animals away from you. To protect you, like I said I would."
His hands slip from your shoulders to your waist. "But now you know."
He grins, his teeth awfully sharp. "Now I can make you just like me."
He holds you down and kisses you and nips at your neck hard enough to draw blood. And when the clouds clear from the moon, you feel your teeth start to lengthen.
Something is terrorising your town. And you should have know better than to cross its path.
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finelinevogue · 3 days ago
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bump
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summary - you don’t like people constantly touching your baby bump
word count - +1k
pairing - azriel x reader
✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨
The party was in full swing.
It had been 2 weeks since you’d announced to your close friends and family that you and Azriel were pregnant - after having 1 month living with the news just you two.
Somehow, Rhys had managed to plan and pull-off a party in that short space of time in order to celebrate your pregnancy.
It was relatively low-key, only people that were closest to you and your family having been invited - mainly because you didn’t want a huge thing made of it but also because Azriel was a mad-man at the moment and wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t trust with his life near you.
Azriel had been overprotective to say the least.
Just the other day you’d tried to reach for your favourite mug in a very accessible shelf above you, but Azriel saw what you were doing and instantly panicked - moving you gently out of the way and fetching it for you. To which he also proceeded in making you a tea as he didn’t want you anywhere near boiling water.
“I can make my own cup of tea, Az.” You sighed.
“I know you can, but I can also make one for you.” He replied. That was his usual reply nowadays.
“I’m not incapable you know?”
“I know. I just… I can–.”
“Yes I know you can, love, but I don’t need you to all the time, okay? I love that you want to take care of me, but I also don’t want to feel useless.”
“How could you be useless? You’re currently doing the most important thing that you could ever be doing.” Azriel placed a soft hand on your stomach.
But after shunning Azriel for being too overprotective, you sort of wish he would bring it back again in this moment.
This party was lovely, but it was also so overwhelming.
You didn’t realise how many people would be so interested in coming up to you and feeling your baby bump. Hands constantly touching you when they usually wouldn’t if you weren’t pregnant. It felt weird and uncomfortable.
“Y/N!” Layla called, walking up to you with a glass of bubbly in her hand.
“Layla, hi.” You smiled at your friend who had worked with you in the Velaris bakery for many years.
“I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” She gushed, giggling a bit with excitement.
“Really? With the amount Y/N and Az sneak around every moment they get, I thought it was about damn time.” Nesta came up alongside you, rolling her eyes as is her and Cassian don’t do the exact same thing.
“Well with a mate like Azriel, I don’t blame you.” Layla wiggled her eyebrows and you gave her a small smile - feeling a little insecure that someone as beautiful as Layla was gushing over your mate whilst you were starting to look like an inflated balloon.
You felt Nesta give you a side look before wandering off into the crowd, leaving you to once again speak to Layla alone.
“So how far along are you?” Layla asked.
It would have been fine if she just asked that, but she had to go and put her hand against your bump at the same time.
You were far too polite to say anything but you really didn’t like her hand on your stomach. Not just hers but also everyone else’s who’d decided to just touch you without asking first.
It was starting to feel invasive.
“About 12 weeks.” You gave her a small smile, stepping back slightly.
Unfortunately for you she just followed, adding her hand back.
“Wow so you didn’t have any symptoms for a while then?” She asked, cupping the roundness of your belly with her palm.
It didn’t feel as comforting as when Azriel touched you. Nothing ever would, but there was something so overstimulating about someone other than your mate just touching you before asking. It felt a little violating.
Before you could get emotional about it in front of a crowded room you excused yourself.
You hurried as fast as you could out of the nearest door and walked through the corridors of the House of Wind.
The tears had arrived as you were walking, your heart beating fast and hands shaking with nerves.
Was it rude to not let people touch your bump? You couldn’t help but think.
Yet, at the same time you would never just go up to a female and put your hands on her pregnant bump - even if it was Feyre - You respect their boundaries too much. So why did you feel like getting upset about this was silly?
Was it the hormones? Because they had been making you feel slightly crazy recently.
You made it to the kitchen without bumping in to anyone.
You braced your arms on the kitchen counter and sunk your chin to your chest, letting out small whimpers as the tears fell.
There was no need to jump from your skin when Azriel’s arms snaked around your waist to hug you because you’d felt his presence the moment he’d appeared in the room. His cheek was delicately placed on the back of your head to still allow you the time and space to be upset.
Some of his shadows were already snaking around your arms in support and stomach in protection.
“What’s wrong, love?” He asked and you had to laugh at his tone.
“Ask me what you really want to ask, Az.” You lifted your chin up and tilted your head to the side to try and see him.
“I’m not sure asking you who I need to kill is the right thing to say when you’re crying.”
You chuckled, kissing the side of his face.
Azriel let you turn around in his hold, not letting your waist go for a moment though. Now his head was tilted down to face yours.
“Tell me.” He said softly.
Your smile broke as your lips wobbled, trying to focus on not crying and instead talk it through with your mate.
“I hate it.” Your voice wavered.
“Hate what? Who?”
“I hate purple touching my bump.”
“Okay.” Azriel said but didn’t add any thoughts for you. He wanted to hear you say everything on your mind first.
“N-not you. But, people have been touching my bump all day without asking and I hate it. I hate it so much, but I feel like a witch if I tell them to get off. Like it’s just my stomach at the end of the day..”
Azriel moved his hands quickly from your waist to cup your cheeks, stroking his thumb carefully over your cheeks. His touch immediately stopped you from talking.
“Woah, woah, woah. No. Don’t do that. Don’t try and talk yourself out of feeling the way you do. It’s your stomach, love. It’s your baby. No one should be doing anything you’re not comfortable with - ever.”
“No I know, but…”
“No buts. Y/N, love, if you feel uncomfortable then that’s the line I draw. The next person to touch your bump without asking is going to lose their hand.”
You give him a stoic look, but part of you was seriously wondering whether he was being truthful.
“Will you stay with me for the rest of the night?”
“Or how about we don’t go back at all.” He raised his eyebrows in suggestion at you.
“If you’re on the same wavelength as me then yes - please!”
“Perfect.” He kissed you softly, both your chests warming at the touch, “You get the ice-cream and I will get the blankets.”
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misswynters · 3 days ago
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Royal Harbinger
featuring. ekko x princess! reader
Hailing from the Grand Kirzean Empire, you were a princess. The only one wielding the blood technomagic abilities. Having such powerful abilities yet you are one of the most sweetest person, ekko has ever bet.
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Glittering starlight pierced through the thick smog that veiled Zaun, casting faint halos of silver over the jagged metal and broken cobblestone streets. Neon lights pulsed faintly from signs above cluttered alleyways, their buzzing hum blending into the mechanical symphony of the Undercity. Amid the chaos, there stood a figure who seemed so out of place it was almost comical—wrapped in delicate silks and adorned with intricate, glowing lines of red that shimmered faintly with every step.
You, a princess of the a Grand Empire, wielder of forbidden blood technomagic, and to Ekko, someone who had no business wandering these parts.
Perched atop a railing on one of Zaun’s crumbling platforms, Ekko crossed his arms as he watched you. At first glance, you were every bit the image of innocence. That soft smile you offered the street urchins as you handed them what little supplies you’d brought from above. The way your delicate hands caressed the head of a stray Zaunite mutt, soothing its bony frame. Your voice, lilting like a melody, apologizing for taking up space in an already-crowded alley.
It didn’t make sense.
“Hey,” Ekko called from above, leaping down to land lightly on his feet a few steps away from you. “What are you doing here? This place isn’t exactly royal palace material, Princess.”
Your head turned, the faint light catching your gentle features. “Oh, Hi Ekko! I was just… exploring.”
“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an edge of disbelief. “Kirze’s finest blood mage is just out here sightseeing?”
The smile on your lips didn’t falter, though your fingers twitched at the mention of blood magic. “I needed to see this place for myself. You’ve told me so much about Zaun… I couldn’t stay away.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, glancing around. “Zaun isn’t exactly a tourist spot. Especially for someone like you. People see those glowing lines on your arms? They’ll think you’re carrying something valuable and won’t ask before taking it.”
You tilted your head, the light in your eyes curious rather than offended. “Is that why you’ve been following me for the past hour?”
His composure faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe.”
“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the cobblestones. “But you don’t have to protect me, Ekko. I can handle myself.”
“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed. “Handle yourself like when that drunk guy in the bar tried to grab your hand last week, and you just smiled at him like he was your best friend?”
Your laugh was soft. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”
“You’re too nice,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You’re in Zaun now. Being nice gets you hurt.”
But even as he said it, something about your presence made the buzzing tension in his chest loosen. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words, or the way your kindness didn’t feel forced. It wasn’t fake or performative—it just was.
Before he could say more, a low growl rumbled from a nearby alley. Ekko tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the bat strapped to his back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by bandanas, their postures predatory.
“See?” Ekko muttered, stepping in front of you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
The larger of the two men chuckled, his voice gravelly. “A couple of lost little birds, eh? Let’s see what you’re hidin'.”
Ekko’s grip tightened on his bat, his stance shifting. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, well we do,” the smaller man sneered, pulling a knife from his belt.
Before Ekko could spring into action, a faint crimson glow bathed the alley. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as the markings on your skin flared to life. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the two men froze, their bravado crumbling as their bodies seized up, limbs locking unnaturally.
Ekko turned, his jaw slack as he watched you step forward, your hand raised delicately. The men’s weapons clattered to the ground, and with a flick of your wrist, they crumpled, gasping for breath but unharmed.
“Leave,” you said, your voice calm but commanding, as if the very air bent to your will. The men scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the shadows without a second glance. The glow faded from your body as you turned back to Ekko, your serene smile returning as though nothing had happened. “See? I told you I could handle myself.”
He stared at you, his bat still half-raised. “What the hell was that?”
“Blood technomagic,” you said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve. “It’s a bit… intimidating, I know. I don’t like using it unless I have to.”
“Intimidating?” he repeated, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You just turned two full-grown men into rag dolls without breaking a sweat.”
You shrugged, your smile faltering slightly. “I don’t want people to see me as a monster. That’s why I try to be kind—to balance it out.”
“Balance it out?” Ekko stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not a monster, Firefly. You just saved both our asses.”
The nickname caught you off guard, your cheeks warming as you looked away. “You don’t have to call me that.”
“Uh! Yeah, I do,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re out here lighting up Zaun like no one else can.” Silence stretched between you for a moment.
“Come on,” Ekko said finally, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”
You hesitated, glancing down at his outstretched hand. Despite the power coursing through your veins, the ability to command life and death with a flick of your wrist, something about the gesture made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.
But then you took his hand, his grip warm and steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe with him. As he led you through the winding streets of Zaun, he glanced back at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, Firefly, you’re full of surprises.”
“Jeez! You’re full of compliments,” you teased, your voice light despite the lingering weight in your chest.
“Do i?, or do you just deserve all the praise one can get.” he shot back, his grin widening.
. . .
Oh, how you wished that it was just the end. But it wasnt, not in a place like this. Soon after both smoke and ash swirled in the air, a haze of chaos and destruction painted Zaun’s underbelly in muted tones of gray and orange. Shattered pipes hissed steam into the atmosphere, nearly drowned out by the growing fires. The air was thick with tension, each explosion sending shockwaves through the cracked streets.
Amid the wreckage, Ekko’s heart raced as he sprinted through the winding alleys. His boots echoed sharply against the metal ground, his bat swinging at his side as his thoughts churned. Where are you?
He had only taken his eyes off you for a second, just one second. He thought you’d be right behind him as the bombs started going off, but when he turned, you were gone. He didn’t see the men closing in on you until it was too late.
Ekko gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had heard of the Empire you were raised in and its unparalleled mastery of technomagic. But meeting you: sweet, kind, and carrying an unfathomable power, had shattered all his assumptions. You weren’t just a mage but a princess as well. But to him, you were simply you. His light in the dark. And now you were in danger. Seemingly.
When you woke, the metallic tang of blood clung to the air. The room was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the bindings around your wrists. Your gown, once pristine and clean was dirty by the scuffle, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.
“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice soft, barely audible.
A group of men stood a few feet away, speaking in low voices. Their uniforms were unmarked, and their expressions betrayed no fear as they glanced at you.
“They doesn’t look like much,” one of them sneered. “For someone called the 'Royal Vermilion of Chaos', I expected… more.”
“It’s a stupid nickname at that” someone else said, though you couldn’t see them.
You flinched inwardly but forced yourself to remain composed. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go if I said please?” you asked, your tone almost playful despite the trembling in your hands.
“Cute,” another said with a scoff as his hand cupped your face. “But we know what you are. What you’re capable of. Better to keep you tied up.”
Your smile faltered slightly as your blood hummed beneath your skin, an ever-present pulse of magic just waiting to be unleashed. You had always been careful, never letting your power consume you. But now, fear began to stir something unstable.
Ekko burst into the place like a storm, his bat taking down the first guard before the man could even draw his weapon. The second came at him with a blade, but Ekko ducked and swung upward, sending the man sprawling.
“Where is they?!” he growled, his voice echoing through the metallic halls.
The third guard hesitated, and Ekko pressed the bat against his chest. “Talk, or you won’t have the chance to regret it.”
“Down the hall,” the guard stammered, eyes wide. “In the main chamber!”
Ekko didn’t wait for anything else. He tore through the hallway, his chest tightening with every step.
The explosion was deafening. The bindings around your wrists melted away as your magic surged to life. Crimson veins glowed beneath your skin, and with a single wave of your hand, the room erupted in chaos. The men who had mocked you moments before were now scrambling, their weapons useless against the tidal wave of energy that lashed out.
Walls were cracked, the ceiling shuddered, and the air itself seemed to bend to your will. But as your power spiraled, a sharp pain shot through your arm. You looked down to see a jagged cut along your forearm, blood dripping onto the floor. The sight steadied you. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the magic inward, watching as the blood wove itself back into your skin. The wound closed, leaving only a faint scar that glimmered for a moment before fading. When the door burst open, you turned, your energy still crackling around you like a storm.
“Firefly!” Ekko’s voice broke through the chaos, and for a moment, you hesitated.
His eyes darted across the room, taking in the destroyed walls, the unconscious bodies, and you, standing at the center of it all. Your gown was soaked in blood, and your face bore streaks of crimson, but you were alive.
“Hi,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice.
In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face. His thumbs brushed against the bloodstains on your cheeks, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” you said softly, a shaky smile forming. “But I think you should ask them if they’re okay.” You gestured to the men sprawled across the floor.
Ekko’s lips twitched, a short, breathless laugh escaping him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. “Y’know I was so scared,” he murmured into your hair, his voice cracking.
You hugged him back, your fingers curling into his jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze intense. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”
You met his eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away as his warmth grounded you. For a moment, the chaos around you faded, leaving only the two of you.
“That was incredible, y’know?” he said, a teasing grin forming.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I’ll take that as one of your compliments.”
Ekko shook his head, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide to redecorate the rest of Zaun.”
As you left the hideout, his arm stayed firmly around your shoulders, his presence a constant reassurance. Despite the destruction you had left behind, Ekko’s steady hand in yours made you feel like everything might just be okay.
Later, the two of you sat in the a garden. It was one of the few quiet, untouched spots in Zaun. Ekko couldn’t help but tease you. “So, Firefly,” he began, his tone playful. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”
“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But next time, maybe warn me before you turn an entire room into a scene from a horror movie?”
You laughed, the sound bright and free, and Ekko felt his chest tighten. Despite everything, you were still you. His sweet, kind Firefly who somehow carried the weight of a mage’s power with grace. And as the neon lights of Zaun reflected in your eyes, Ekko leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly, the words simple but sincere.
You smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too.” The two of you stayed at the garden until dawn. You were practically sleeping on his shoulder, exhausted from today, but he didn’t mind. Because he knew soon that you would have to leave, and god knows when he will see you again. So he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you.
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lovegalor333 · 3 days ago
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Naughty List (nsfw)
part two of paigemas
paige bueckers x reader
a snow storm and power outage leaves you and paige no other option but to keep each other warm
⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°。꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°。꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°。꙳❆°⋆
“Turn it up more!” Paige shouts from the living room as you battle with the furnace, desperately trying to warm up the house. “I have!” You call back as you twist the dial to MAX. A snowstorm was currently sweeping through your state and after running inside post snowball fight, you and Paige were met with a freezing cold house.
“It’s not getting hotter.” Paige is right behind you now, arms wrapped around herself tightly, nose red from the minus temperatures. “I think it’s broken.” You pout, rubbing your hands together for some sort of heat. “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s freezing cold!” Paige groans, kneeling beside you to get a look at the furnace herself.
You’re side by side, brows furrowed looking at the furnace like either of you know how to fix it when everything cuts to black. For a moment, you think you’ve passed out from hypothermia but when you hear Paiges confused, “What the fuck?” You realise you’re still very much conscious and the power has just cut out.
With no heat and no lights, you and Paige scramble around the dark, cold house in search of candles and flashlights, “We could always start a fire.” Paige suggests and she lights the three small candles you found, “Paige. There’s no fireplace, the house would go up in flames.” You say looking at your girlfriend seriously. You loved Paige but sometimes she spoke without thinking.
“We have to do something. I think I might die I’m so cold. You can die from being cold right?” Paige asks with a shiver, “Ok Little Miss Dramatic, let’s get some blankets and huddle like penguins. We can keep each other warm. I’m sure everything will come back on soon enough.”
You and Paige bundle together on the couch, every blanket and duvet in the house piled on top of you. You’re in Paiges lap after she insisted it would keep her warmer and her arms are around your waist, hands tucked under the hoodie you’re wearing.
“I wish we could watch a movie or something, I’m so bored.” You grumbled, nestling further into Paige and she held you closer, hands under your sweater rubbing on your stomach. “I mean…I can think of something we can do.” She says against your neck and the heat of her breath makes your hairs stand on end.
“What? It’s dark and cold, there’s nothing-“ Your sentence is cut short as Paiges hand inches itself down your stomach and into your trousers, “Oh.” You breathe out, opening your legs wider for easier access. Paiges hand is cold against you and you shiver unconsciously, “Just relax.” She husks into your ear and you rest your head back onto her chest as her hand slips into your panties.
Paiges pays special attention to your clit. Rubbing soft circles over it and you hum in response to her touch, your body begins to warm immediately. “Feels good?” Paiges voice is thick and sensual and you buck your hips up, “S’good.” You mumble, eyes falling closed as pleasure begins to take over.
Paige runs her fingers through your folds, already sticky with your slick before pushing two inside of you. You gasp at the feeling of her slender digits filling you up and your mouth remains open as she pumps in and out, your breath heavy and panting.
“So fuckin’ tight.” Paige groans into your ear before sucking your earlobe into her mouth. You move your head to the side so she has better access and she presses her lips to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Keep going.” You whine and your hand finds Paiges inbetween your legs and rests on top making sure she doesn’t stop her movements.
“Use me baby.” Paige coos, “Tell me how you want it.” Her voice is several octaves deeper and breath hot on your neck making your thoughts hazy and sordid. Your mind that was once focused on how to keep yourself warm was completely distracted by the building pressure in your stomach, the temperature could drop another ten degrees and you’d still feel like you were on fire.
“Faster…harder.” You moan coaxing Paiges hand to speed up and push in deeper. When her finger hits that soft, gummy spot your legs unconsciously writhe, “Shit. My clit…touch it.” You all but beg your girlfriend. Paige loved when you were vocal, telling her exactly how and where you wanted her. She always wanted to make you feel good, she prided herself on it, in fact.
“I said use me baby.” Paige softly asserts, her other hand moving to your thigh, she squeezes it tight, pulling your legs wider apart, “Do whatever you want.”
Your grip on Paiges hand tightens as you guide her fingertips to your clit, pressing them down and moving them in circles, just the way you like it. Just the way they’ve gotten you off so many times before.
Both yours and Paiges fingers were covered in your wetness and it made it easy for you to push them back down and inside, resuming the knocking motion against your g-spot. You could never get enough of Paige, no matter how deep inside you she was, no matter how fast she was driving in, no matter how close to you she was, you always wanted more.
You began to grind your hips on her fingers, your ass pressing into her crotch and the quivery moan that escaped her lips intoxicated you. If Paige Bueckers was a drug, you were an addict. “Shit baby, grinding on me like that makin’ me so wet.”
You were getting needy and desperate to cum and with one hand still focused on hammering Paiges fingers inside of you, you used your other to take her free hand and press it back to your clit. With your hips still grinding and both of Paiges hands on your sopping cunt, you knew your climax was imminent. “Gonna cum soon.” You breathed out and as if on cue, your legs began to twitch, pussy clenching as your heart hammered in your chest.
“That’s it baby, doing so good.” Paige praised, her lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck again. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, everything you were feeling was pushing you over the edge. Her fingers, her lips, her crotch against your ass, her chest rapidly rising and falling against your back, “Oh fuck, P! I’m cumming.” You cried out as your body jerked against hers.
You no longer had the energy to guide Paiges fingers but she continued without you, working you through your high, slowly easing her speed and pace as you relaxed into her.
Your eyes were closed as you basked in the post orgasm euphoria, rested on Paiges chest. You heard a faint click first before the lights flickered back on and the sound of hot air filtered out of the vents. You chuckled, “Perfect timing.”
“Uh huh, perfect timing for round two. Bedroom now. Need to taste you so bad.”
schedule out the window but i promise everything will be posted 😭🙂‍↕️
🏷️: @buecketsnbueckets @rosemariiaa @avvwritesstufff @sierrale8ne @blackbarbie96 @melpthatsme @jnkbueckers @cloclos-posts @onlyhereforpazzi @paigeshirleytemple @mattsmunchkin @bueckersbitch @rizzlerbuckets @numberonepartyanth3m @washing-machine-heart245 @katemartinlvr @girlslovee @taylynbueckers44 @thatonequeer0358 @the-other-half @xxxggggsh @evry1luvzza
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reginamillls · 1 day ago
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I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus
"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.
"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."
Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-
Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-
Is overthinking.
Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.
He's been caught.
"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.
"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.
"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.
Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.
"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."
"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"
"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"
"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.
Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.
"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."
"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.
"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.
"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.
"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.
"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.
"I do fly-"
"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.
"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.
"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.
"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."
"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.
"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."
"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."
They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.
Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.
"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."
"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.
"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.
"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."
Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.
"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.
"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.
Tommy tries.
He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.
"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.
"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.
Tommy is completely charmed by him.
"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.
That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'
"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.
He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.
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goose-books · 2 days ago
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The Ghost of Christmas Past shows up and you’re like, “Ohhhhh for fuck’s sake,” but you’re in your childhood bedroom so it’s kind of on you. The ghost seems offended. She crosses her arms. She looks like you used to, with the pigtails.
“No way,” you say. “Don’t start.”
“I am the—”
“The Ghost of Christmas Past, I know, I know.” Because she looks like you, and it’s Christmas Eve, so what else. Your parents used to read you the story every year. Even when you were old enough to read on your own, it was better in your dad’s voice.
“You came home for your parents,” the ghost says, solemn. “It’s time to tell them.”
“No, like, ‘when you’re ready’?”
“You are ready,” she says, “or you wouldn’t have come back.”
Which is so stupid, because you weren’t on the moon, you were at college, and it’s only been two months of shots, you don’t even have a mustache. “Fucking leave me alone,” you say, so she does the ghost thing and takes you to a ten-years-ago Christmas. The living room. Your parents. Your fledgling self on the carpet with your stocking, the one you can’t look at anymore because when you were a baby your parents patiently hand-stitched the fucking name.
“Maybe they’ll make you a new one,” says the ghost.
“You don’t know that.” Bullshit ghost powers.
“You were happier back then. When they knew you.”
“Everyone was happier back then. It was, like, 2008.”
“There was a recession,” says the ghost.
“Shut up! Shut up!” You turn over in bed. For a second you expect to roll onto child-self-you curled up next to you. Probably crush the life out of her. You got good at that. It’s her bed, her room, pink covers, cat posters.
“This is so stupid, this Dickens thing,” you say. “I’m not even Christian anymore.”
“Tell your parents that second,” the ghost suggests.
“Oh my fucking God I’m not telling them anything can’t you go bother Jeff Bezos.”
“I’m just doing my job,” says the ghost, and vanishes.
#
The Ghost of Christmas Present has an acne problem. As soon as you open your eyes you say, “Oh my God,” and they say, “Hi,” and you say, “You better not be the fucking Ghost of Christmas Present,” and the Ghost of Christmas Present says, “I am.”
Which you knew.
“Why me?” you say, pink comforter bunched around your waist. “I didn’t do anything. Scrooge was mean to orphans.”
The Ghost of Christmas Present shrugs. “It’s the job.”
“Are you gonna show me my parents now?”
That makes them look kind of embarrassed.
“Well, don’t,” you say. If your parents are talking in the other room, huddled up conferencing with the lights off, you can’t hear it over the heater buzz. But you can guess what they’re saying: you went to school with a shitty pixie cut and worse eyeliner, and you came back with a real haircut and a permanent frown and a bunch of new friends you play sentence Twister to avoid pronouning. “I know they’re nice people, I got it. I’m just not ready.”
“It’s just—you’re kind of waiting for them to ask?” says the Ghost of Christmas Present. They scratch their face, where they have spectral sideburns coming in. “Your dad thinks you have a head cold. ‘Cause of your voice. But your mom’s starting to get it.”
You pull the covers over your head. “Cool, awesome, didn’t ask.”
“She isn’t going to ask,” the ghost says. “She wants you to tell her.”
You stick your middle finger out from underneath the covers. When you check, the room is empty again.
#
The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. You look back. You probably have bedhead. You fixed your daytime wardrobe but your pajamas are still lacy and purple.
“How come you’re a man?” you say.
He says, “I think you know.”
“Fucking—go away.”
“I have something to show you first.”
“Are we going to the goddamn graveyard?”
He doesn’t say anything but then you’re in the goddamn graveyard. Together. Looking at your headstone. The dates are close enough together to make you kind of sick.
“They went with the full name,” you say.
The ghost nods.
“Not even the nickname. My nice gender neutral nickname.”
The ghost shrugs. You kind of want to throw something at him but you’re just looking at it now. Chiseled in marble. Immovable. What’s that thing bigots on the internet say, about someone digging up your jawbone two hundred years from now? You always wanted to think you wouldn’t care.
The Ghost of Christmas Future’s pretty quiet. This is the part where Scrooge goes full breakdown. Tears, begging, promises.
“I’m not gonna cry on you,” you say.
“Okay.”
So neutral. “Man, what do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” says the ghost. “I think you’re there.”
You can’t stop looking at the headstone. “God fucking damnit shit. You promise they’ll be cool?”
“Nothing’s promised,” the ghost says. He gestures at the graveyard. “Except for this.”
“Awesome.” Cryptic cliche philosophical ghost bullshit. Yada yada. Death and taxes. Not with that name on your headstone, though. Not with that name on your tax forms, either.
You turn to tell him that and then you’re blinking in bed. There’s still one glow-in-the-dark star stuck to your ceiling where the glue never wore out. You put those up like ten years ago. Maybe longer. The light in the room says it’s morning. You swing your lacy-pajama legs over the side of the bed and go to ruin Christmas.
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henry7931 · 2 days ago
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Chase:
Today is a really weird day and I didn’t know how I would feel about coming over to my best friend Bryce’s house especially after the incident.
Bryce and I have been friends for over 12 years now and him and I have always been a couple of scrawny gay nerds. We both love Minecraft legend of Zelda, just about every video game you can think of and one way we really bonded was figuring out that we are both gay.
Now for years, I’ve always known that Bryce had a crush on me. For me it was never that I didn’t like Bryce or I was never interested, but I never wanted to ruin the friendship. But then you have Walker is older brother. Walker is a few years older than us. He’s super handsome, athletic, charming, he could basically date anyone he laid his eyes on.
The truth is Walker was my sexual awakening for years. I’ve stayed at their house and spent the night and it wouldn’t be uncommon to see Walker come out and nothing but basketball shorts hell I don’t even think he would wear underwear sometimes.
I can remember the way seeing him made me blush, and I tried my hardest not to stare at him. I don’t know if Walker could tell that I was checking him out. Or maybe Walker was just used to people checking him out shouldn’t be any surprise that his little brother‘s gay friend had his eyes glued to him.
And somehow he continues to keep getting hotter and hotter and hotter…
So several weeks ago, Bryce and Walker’s family went on vacation to some tropical island. And something very strange happened while touring an old temple. How Bryce explained it to me was that they had a sign up that specifically said, “ please do not touch artifact.”
Bryce can be such a stickler for rules and I can almost see it in my head. It all went down. Bryce told Walker not to touch it. Walker likes to get on Bryce‘s nerves Walker reaches for it and then shit got real quick. Because Walker and Bryce have now switched bodies.
When Bryce was explaining all this to me, I really thought it was bullshit. I mean, who would believe that that sounds like something from a movie and yet even hearing Walker��s voice, I can tell just by the tone that it’s Bryce.
So today is the first day that I have seen Bryce since he swapped bodies with Walker. And that’s why I feel all kinds of weird.
Now Bryce and I have stayed with each other like 1 million times and it’s really not unusual for us to be basically naked around each other. OK maybe not completely naked but like at least in her underwear.
And I have tried really, really hard to make him feel comfortable and I think I’m doing a really good job but having him standing in front of me in just his brother’s boxers is driving me a bit insane.
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I’m sitting on Bryce‘s bed and walks back into his room just to ask me if I wanted anything from downstairs like something to drink or maybe a snack. I can barely get out the words because I can’t stop staring at the chiseled God in front of me.
“ chase you’re staying the night right?,” he asked me.
“ oh yeah, of course I’m staying the night as long as that’s OK.”
“ yeah man of course it’s okay! You know it’s okay man. No one cares you stay the night. You’re like basically family sides. My brother isn’t going to be home tonight. He’s wanted a lot of space since the whole. I’ve got his body thing. And both my parents are out of town so it’s just gonna be us,” he says with a side smirk.
“ well if it’s just us what do you wanna get into tonight?,” I say trying to make conversation.
I’m holding my eye contact directly at his face and I try my hardest not to look anywhere else, but he takes his hand and start scratching his balls and I can almost feel my whole cock twitch.
“ I mean since everybody’s not here tonight, we can always break into my parents liquor cabinet, whoop whoop!”
You know I am probably the most innocent 18 year-old alive, I don’t wanna attend parties nor do I really sneak around my parents but I feel like alcohol sounds like a great idea right now. I mean it I might be able to calm down a bit.
“Hell yeah! That’s sounds fun!,” I say with some enthusiasm.
“Bet! Be right back!”
I hear as heavy feet running down the stairs and all I can do is try to think of something that would totally turn me off like anything taxes, my grandparents, just something…
And yet all I can think about is how hot it would be if I could suck on his toes. I’ve had a thing for feet a while now and it’s taking me a little bit to accept it and a part of that I blame Walker for him because he has some sexy ass feet.
I can remember clearly the smell of his feet after he would finish football practice and he would pull off his shoes. Shit! Fuck! I’m so hard right now. I feel like I’m gonna have to sneak away and beat one out in the bathroom just to clear my head.
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And then here comes Bryce with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of wine for the both of us just super eager.
I reposition myself to where I’m laying flat on my stomach so he doesn’t notice.
Bryce hops on to the bed with me and try’s his hardest to navigate a wine opener.
“Geez, I have no clue what I’m doing here…”
I eventually take it and started twisting in. I try to pull it out but struggle.
“Here since you now have all of the muscles.”
He rolls his eyes at me and tugs it out.
“Success!”
“Good team work there he-man,” I say playfully.
Bryce’s pours both of us a glass and at first I thought it tasted awful. But the second glass… now I see why people like it. I feel so warm inside and relaxed.
We both lay back in his bed.
“Is it super weird for you?,” I ask him.
“What?”
“You know… being in your Walkers body.”
“Um… yes. Yes and no I guess. I feel like everything has just moved so quick since the trip. I feel very different in public, like I’m so much more noticed. girls hit on me… so do guys. It’s a lot to take in especially since you and my family are the only ones who know about it.”
“What about Walker’s girlfriend?”
“Oh he broke up with her, thought it would be less weird. Although he had to do it over text because I refused to call or see her in person.”
“Damn! That’s crazy.”
“Yeah but she was like his girlfriend for the month, nothing serious.”
Of course…
“So is this pretty permanent?”
“Yeah I think so, unless you know of any other magic objects than can reverse it haha.”
“No, not off of the top of my head,”I say jokingly.
“Well… that answers your question. This is my body now. This is the new me I guess,” he says looking his muscles over.
I look them over as well and then my eyes draw this briefs… he’s got a hard on…
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Bryce catches my eyes and says, “you wanna touch it?”
“What?!?”
“Come on Chase… don’t play games with me. I know you and I know you’ve had the hots for this body. I’ve known for years now.”
I take a deep breath… I feel my nervous all over again.
“It’s okay, I know you like this body. It’s my body now. And I want you to touch my massive dick.”
“But Bryce!”
“Shhh! Chase I’ve had a crush on you for years and I know you would never fool around with me. And now I have the body you’ve been lusting for years now. TOUCH MY MASSIVE DICK PLEASE!”
“Fuck, okay.”
I start touching it from the outside and it does feel huge!
“You know I love you Bryce, you’re the most important person to me. I just never wanted us to loose our friendship. It’s why I never tried anything with you.”
“I know. And listen I know you weren’t trying to go after my brother. I know what he looks like. Everyone does. But now I have the body and the personality so, I’m giving you no choice but to date me. Got it?”
“Ugh fine,” I say rolling my eyes.
“Now can you do me a favor?”
“Sure!”
“Can I see your feet?” he says to me.
Wow! Wasn’t expecting that!
“Wait why?”
“I hope you don’t think this is weird but I have a thing for them.”
“Shut up! So do I!”
“You do?!?”
“Yeah especially…,” I eye down to his feet and wiggles his toes.
“Oh my god! This is about to be a wild night!”
“Wait, can I kiss you?”
“Please!”
Part 2 Coming…
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cameronwillow · 3 days ago
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Double Trouble
Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank x fem reader
You walk in on your best friend and your crush doing something very questionable. Not only are they enemies, your crush on Rafe Cameron was top secret.
No plot! Panty stealing/jerking off with them, threesome, Dom!Rafe and Dom! JJ, oral male receiving, degrading, minimal praise, use of the word “bitch.” In a sexual way, rough sex. Use of the word daddy.
The last thing you expected was to see your crush in your bedroom, Rafe Cameron with your new pair of panties. He was smelling them and you saw his hand inside his pants. You also really didn’t expect to see your best friend and roommate JJ Maybank with your pillow with his own pants down.
You shrieked and they both jumped slightly.
“What the fuck is going on??” your jaw was hanging open and you expected them to humbly explain what the hell was going on. They were enemies. Sworn enemies at that. And your crush on Rafe was a secret.
But JJ rushed over to you and grabbed your throat. Squeezing lightly. “Don’t act so surprised, baby. We both know you want us.”
“Your little friend decided to tell me you’ve been eye fucking me. And how else would I get in here and steal all this shit?” Rafe also stood and approached you.
Oh god. It was like they read your mind about your darkest and most private fantasy. Your core soaked through your underwear underneath your skirt. Your nipples hardened as JJ slammed you against the wall, his cock clearly aroused and Rafe was smirking next to him.
“Aw, look. She can’t stop squeezing her thighs together. Sure she can take us?” JJ asked Rafe, casting a brief glance at him.
“Yeah, she can. We’re gonna break her and she’s gonna like it.” Rafe growled. He reached over and grabbed your shirt, pulling you to the ground.
Your pussy was so wet it dripped down your legs as you sank to your knees.
“That’s it, sweet girl. You’re gonna swallow all my cum and then he’s gonna stretch that pretty pussy.” Rafe ordered and you immediately pulled his cock out his pants. He groaned as it slapped against his stomach and you held the weight in your hands and swiped your thumb around the precum tip.
“Fuck, baby girl. This is so much better than stealing your clothes. Spread your legs. Wanna see your messy cum.” JJ said with his hand wrapping around your hair and shoving your forward, not giving your throat a moment to prepare as you took Rafe in your mouth.
He hit the back of your throat as your lips sucked him slowly and your tongue worked the tip at the same time. You tried not to gag as you felt JJ knelt down, his hand finding your pussy as your knees were spread. His fingers circled your clit and you found yourself slacking as Rafes pace stopped and he pulled out.
JJ lightly smacked your cheek from behind with his non-sticky fingers and he gripped your jaw. “We didn’t say you could fucking slow down.” He growled.
“Now I’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna suck him off. If you slow down, we won’t cum and we’ll leave. We know how much you wanna be our little fuck slave.”
His filthy words made you choke on a moan as Rafe slammed his cock back into your mouth as JJ pulled you onto all fours, his own dick pressing into your pussy. The skin of Rafe’s cock was sopping wet from your drool as your eyes rolled back from both the pleasure of hearing him moan and JJ’ slamming into you from the back.
They both pulled your hair so hard you thought they’d rip it out.
“She’s such a dirty little whore, isn’t she? Our little bitch.” Rafe grunted, his hips thrusting rhythmically.
“Fuck, she’s so hot. You should see yourself right now, sweet girl. Let us both use your holes.” JJ then digs his fingers into your ass.
Rafe was about to spill into your mouth before he pulled out, allowing his cum to coat the lower half of your chin and neck. But he didn’t stop there, he viciously smeared his cum into your mouth with his fingers, “Fucking choke on it, dumb slut.”
JJ was relentless as he pounded into you, you were so wet you heard squelching sounds through the room as he slapped your ass, “Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” he barked as he felt your movements start to curl.
Rafe pulled out his phone as your eyes rolled back from JJ pulling out and slamming back in, filling you up to the hilt balls deep. “Now we have our own little video don’t we?” Rafe’s flash went off as you almost screamed.
“That’s it, fucking scream for us. Think we were gonna just stop?” JJ taunted as Rafe threw him a pair of your panties.
He shoved them into your mouth as your fingers tried to balance yourself as he rutted, close to his peak. Your eyes were dripping with tears as you moaned against the material. Rafe laughed cruelly and knelt down.
“Did you think we’d let you get away with it? Hiding your little obsession with us?” He mocked. “Oh, you poor little bunny. Thinking we wouldn’t know.”
“You’re so pathetic.” JJ grunted before you felt him spill inside you, bringing you both to orgasm as your stomach tightened and then released.
“Look at her go…that didn’t take long.” Rafe chuckled darkly. JJ released you, right into Rafe’s arms as he picked you up by your underarms and tossed you on the bed.
He crawled over you, his eyes dark and brooding. “You still gonna be all nice and tight for me, little girl?” You peaked and saw JJ holding his own phone as he pocketed the pair of underwear on the floor.
“Yes-“ you tried to speak but he slammed into you, his cock stretching you out painfully and deliciously. Your wet pulsing cunt took him greedily.
“God, look at you. Now, you’re being good, huh? You wanna please daddy?” Rafe taunted between breaths. JJs eyes were dark too, a jaded shade of blue.
“Hey, stay awake for us, baby. This took a lot of planning.” He called out.
You nodded between crying. It felt so good you saw stars. Rafe continued moving harder, his hands pinning yours above your head as his forehead rested on yours, his spit fell in your mouth.
“This is just the fucking start, baby.”
You came for the second time with a scream and he emptied inside you, milking it out as the aftershock hit you both. You violently panted as he removed his cock but stayed above you.
“You’re gonna let us in anytime we want, got it? You’re not gonna complain. You’re going to be good. Do you understand us? And if you think your little best friend over there is gonna take it easy on you?” Rafe shook his head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I know you don’t have anything else planned tonight except for being our cum slut.”
Dividers by @starkeysprincess
Tagging @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @rafesangelita @sturnioloshacker @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @marchsfreakshow @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @redhead1180 @rafeyscurtainbangs @hornyxdreams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @xxladymjxx
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roosterforme · 3 days ago
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You're on the Naughty List, Rooster | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley knows no limits when spoiling his family, especially for his daughter's first Christmas. When he's down to the wire getting everything ready, he lands himself on the naughty list. He'll do whatever it takes to fix things, including calling on one of Santa's helpers for backup.
Warnings: Fluff, adult language, smut, oral sex
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This is a The Younger Kind one-shot, but it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!
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"What is this?" you asked, holding up a receipt that trailed from your outstretched hand all the way to the floor. "Because I know you didn't spend eight hundred dollars on toys on your way home from work today."
"Uh," Bradley replied, brow puckered. He looked up from his spot on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree where he was putting batteries into a remote control dinosaur. "It's, uh.... well, yeah, I did stop for a few more toys on the way home, but I only spent like seven hundred and sixty bucks..."
"Daddy!" you gasped. "Noah and Noelle already have way too much stuff! And we agreed to put money aside to go to Disney World next summer!"
Bradley rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually in the air. "Don't worry about that. This is Noelle's first Christmas, and I really wanted to spoil her."
You shook your head, balled up the receipt, and threw it at his head. But you were smiling. "Where are these toys?"
"In the Bronco," he muttered. "I was going to sneak them under the tree after you went to bed and hope you didn't notice that I got a few more things."
You deadpanned. "You don't know how to wrap gifts. They would have stuck out like a sore thumb," you muttered, sliding your feet into your slippers and pulling on Bradley's discarded sweatshirt. 
Without another word, you slipped out into the crisp, cool night to retrieve everything. To your dismay, it took you several trips back to the living room before you got all of it.
"You are in so much trouble," you warned, pulling his sweatshirt off and crawling across the floor toward your husband. "You're on the naughty list."
"I'm not," he whispered. "I've been really good all year."
You pointed to the Elf on the Shelf which was perched on the windowsill next to the front door. "That's not what Skittles Junior told Santa. I saw the note he sent to the North Pole. Everyone was on the nice list except for you."
"Including Skittles Senior?" he asked, pulling you close until you were sitting halfway on his lap. The Yorkshire Terrier looked up from her napping spot under the Christmas tree, annoyed that they kept saying her name without offering a treat.
"Especially Skittles Senior," you confirmed.
Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered, "What if I bought my way onto the nice list?"
"How?" you asked, chin jutting into the air, playfully haughty.
Bradley leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You had the softest skin, and he let himself indulge in some kisses before saying, "Maybe I already booked the trip to Disney World."
You gasped softly. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Did you pick a nice hotel?"
"For my family? The nicest."
"And we get to go for a week?"
"A full seven days, Princess," he rasped, brown eyes reflecting the lights on the tree as you tipped his head back to examine his face.
"Let me check with the Elf," you whispered with a wink. You turned toward the window and asked, "Hey, Skittles Junior? You think we can let the old man slide this year? He wasn't too bad."
But Bradley was already easing you onto your back, right next to the snag in the area rug, while you laughed. "I know for a fact you're on the nice list. You're so nice, in fact, I'll let you have one of your presents early," he murmured. You bit your lip as he started to tug your pajama pants over your hips. "This is something I definitely wouldn't be able to figure out how to wrap." He kissed below your belly button, tossing your pants on top of his hoodie. "But I know it's something you like."
The tip of his nose tickled the waistband of your underwear before he started to pull them down as well. Then he kissed his way along your thigh, mustache prickling you as you shivered, pussy completely bare for him. "Daddy," you moaned softly, fingers grabbing at the rug while he held tight to your thigh and dragged his index finger along your slit.
His face was handsome in the glow from the multi-colored lights, gaze fixed on where he was stroking you. "You're so fucking pretty like this," he grunted, collecting your slick and circling your clit until you whimpered. His lips found the inside of your knee before he set your legs gently on his shoulders. You watched as he licked his finger clean, eyes closed in pleasure. "You taste like a Princess."
"I am a Princess," you replied, eyes flicking to the collection of paper crowns which your son added to the Christmas tree. Then your eyes slid closed as Bradley's tongue traced you from hole to hole before his lips sealed around your clit with just the perfect pressure. 
"Oh, god," you whined as your fingers sunk into his thick hair. His broad shoulders kept you planted against the floor, pussy already fluttering with need as you tried to roll your hips for more.
"Just wait," he whispered, mustache dragging through your wetness. "Don't rush it."
"But it feels good," you whined loudly, tugging him by his hair. "More." 
That's when he lifted you slightly off the rug, his big hand landing on your butt, spanking you one time. You sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sting as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "I said don't rush it. Want you to make a mess."
"Oh." He was going to make you squirt. That was the gift he was giving you. Even now, you weren't sure how he managed to make it happen every time he put his mind to it, but you weren't mad about it. You tried your best to keep your hips still as he worked you up while his hands made their way to your waist. 
He drew little circles against your skin where you were most self conscious after being pregnant with Noelle, but he never seemed to mind your stretch marks. He just kept at it, licking you up and down your slit with a steady pattern until you were starting to get loud. Then Bradley shoved two fingers inside and circled your clit with his thumb.
"Don't wake up the kids," he scolded playfully, guiding his body over yours while his hand worked at your pussy. The sounds were wet and indecent as he finger fucked you while you licked yourself from his lips and mustache. "God, you're so fucking sweet," he crooned, making you whine for him as he pulled away again.
As soon as his face was back between your legs, his lips took over for his thumb, and you knew you were close. His fingers felt thick and unrelenting, giving you the most delicious friction as he sucked on your clit. When his tongue swiped you, your back arched up from the rug, and your legs started to shake. When his fingers slowed, your vision blurred, creating a colorful mosaic from the Christmas lights as you clenched around him, your body trying to keep his fingers inside.
"Jesus," you gasped, riding his fingers, looking down at his face, lips still all over your pussy. "Daddy!"
You gushed on his face, and he moaned in pleasure, lapping up everything from your ass to your clit as you gasped and giggled, fingers pressed to your lips as you shakily rode out your orgasm.
"Merry Christmas, Princess," he crooned, teasing you with his fingers before removing them. He kissed your chin and your parted lips before letting you suck on his fingers while he sprawled out next to you. Your tongue cleaned him up, enjoying the taste of yourself on his rough hands before you rolled onto your side.
"You want me to wrap all of the extra toys you bought, don't you, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaky as he nodded.
"Yeah. I mean, I thought that was a given."
You laughed, but a few minutes later, you were once again dressed, wrapping presents until well after midnight. Bradley handed you the tape and scissors when you asked for them, and he made both of you mugs of hot cocoa when you needed a break. He told you his plans for the summer vacation to Florida, and you lined up the mound of toys for Noah and Noelle under the tree until you couldn't stop yawning.
"I don't know if I'm more tired from my orgasm or wrapping. Or both?" you asked, kissing him before standing. "But I'm going to bed."
"I'll be in after I put the mugs in the sink, Princess. I love you."
You stood and arched your back in the most alluring way before running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to move Skittles Junior to the tree for Christmas morning."
"Right. I'll take care of it," he grunted as you walked away, Skittles Senior trailing behind on her way to her puppy bed. 
After straightening up the kitchen, Bradley took the time to clean up a few wrapping paper scraps and adjust some of the ornaments. The tree looked beautiful covered in homemade art projects you and Noah crafted together. The whole house had taken on a new life since he met you, and if you wanted to go to Disney World in the summer, he was going to make it the best trip ever.
"Get over here," he told the Elf on the Shelf, picking him up and searching for a good spot on the tree to hide him. "And I better be on the nice list tomorrow, Skittles Junior. There are a lot of things I want from my wife next year, if you catch my drift, buddy."
But Bradley took a wrong step trying to avoid the huge pile of presents that he bought. His eyes went wide as he reached for the tree, somehow managing to keep it and himself upright while the presents scattered noisily across the floor. He stood there silently, trying to regroup, but then he heard footsteps in the hallway.
"Daddy, did Santa come?"
Bradley turned in time to see Noah peek into the room, his brown eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Then he burst into tears.
"What's wrong, Bub?" Bradley asked, scrambling around the presents to get to his son.
"You touched the Elf!" he wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Now Skittles Junior won't be magic anymore!"
Bradley tamped down the string of obscenities on the tip of his tongue and winced, throwing the Elf at the tree. "He's okay. See? He's in the tree now. He's just fine."
"No!" his son cried, dropping to the floor where Bradley joined him, trying to keep him quiet so he didn't wake you or Noelle. "He's not magic anymore!"
Fuck. Bradley had been setting up elaborate scenes involving the elf leaving flour footprints in the kitchen and dangling from dental floss in the bathroom for the entire month of December. He knew he wasn't allowed to get caught touching the damn thing.
"I'm pretty sure there's a way to fix his magic," he said, collecting the sobbing child against his chest.
Noah gasped for air as he said, "Someone at school told me the only way to get an elf to be magic again is if Santa sends a helper to sprinkle new magic on him. That's the only way."
Bradley tried to think of a solution to appease Noah, but he was beyond exhausted. "How about I take you back to bed, okay? Santa was clearly already here, but Mommy and Noelle are still asleep. We can open presents in a few hours-"
"No!" Noah protested, looking up at him. "I want to stay here with Skittles Junior until Santa sends a helper to give him back his magic!"
Bradley gritted his teeth. It was four in the morning. He wanted to be curled up next to your warm body in bed. He didn't know how the fuck to fix the elf as it dangled helplessly from the tree. But it was Christmas, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his son.
"Right," Bradley agreed, scooping Noah up and settling onto the couch with him as a plan started to take shape. "How about you and I wait right here? I'm sure it won't take long."
------------------------------
When you woke up, the bed was cold. You could hear Noelle starting to fuss in her crib, so you went to her room before investigating where your husband could possibly be.
"Hey, Noelle," you whispered as she giggled and reached for you when you walked to her crib. Thankfully she was finally sleeping through the night now after getting a rough start. You kissed her forehead and changed her into a fresh diaper. "Merry Christmas," you told her, tickling her tummy, making her coo. "Let's find Noah and Daddy and make breakfast."
When you walked into the living room, you froze. The wrapped presents were all over the floor, Skittles Junior was dangling from the Christmas tree, and Bradley looked miserably tired with Noah pouting on his lap.
"What's going on?" you asked, and they both turned to look at you and Noelle.
"Daddy touched Skittles Junior, and now he's not magic anymore."
Noah's lips quivered as Bradley rolled his eyes behind him. "It was an accident," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "And Santa's helper should be here shortly to remedy things."
You looked at him like he had two heads. "What are you talking about? Santa's helper?"
"It's the only way!" Noah insisted, his little fists clenched on his lap. "It's the only way to get his magic back!"
You looked from one pair of brown eyes to the other. "I'm still confused," you whispered, but then there was a knock on the front door. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?"
Noah launched off Bradley's lap. "It has to be Santa's helper!" he exclaimed, racing for the door and opening it. You nearly choked when you saw Natasha standing there, dressed as a life-sized Elf on the Shelf with heavily rouged cheeks and her hair hidden under the pointy hat. She was also wearing oversized glasses which she pushed up her nose as Bradley stood.
"Hi! My name is Pip! I'm an elf!" she squeaked.
"Did Santa send you?" Noah asked hopefully, opening the door wider for her.
"He sure did!" she told him with a smile while you took in the events before you with Noelle in your arms. This had to be the most insane thing you'd ever witnessed as your husband's best friend walked into the living room with a canister of gold glitter in her hand.
"Did he tell you my elf lost his magic?" Noah asked, pointing at the tree.
"Oh, yes," Natasha squeaked. "He said your dad was very, very naughty." She glared at Bradley who just shook his head. "He's going directly onto the naughty list for the next decade or so. Everyone knows you aren't allowed to touch the Elf on the Shelf. Only a complete moron would-"
"Okay, Pip," Bradley barked. "Can you fix the elf or not?"
She adjusted the glasses and opened the glitter. "Of course I can. Just a little sprinkle," she said, dousing the elf and half the tree in gold dust, "and he'll be good as new."
"Yay!" Noah shouted, jumping around the room. "He's magic again! He's magic again!"
You gaped at Bradley and whispered, "Do I even want to know?"
"Absolutely not," he replied, taking Noelle and giving her a kiss while Noah plopped down to open aone of his presents like all was right in the world.
When Natasha turned to quietly sneak back out the front door, you followed her to the porch, closing the door behind you.
"What in the world is happening here? I thought you and Javy were coming over later for dinner?"
She waved her hand in the air in clear annoyance. "I don't know exactly what your husband did to fuck up enough that I got texts in the middle of the night and had to drive an hour each way to the only Walmart that opened at seven in the morning on Christmas to buy this outfit, but he owes me dearly. I'll be back at a normal hour, and you can tell him he better be ready to start kissing my ass."
The elf stormed across the yard to her SUV, tossed her hat in, and drove off. You scratched your head, still confused as you went back inside. Skittles Junior was practically dripping with gold glitter as you passed the tree to find your husband and both of your children were wearing their paper crowns.
"Mommy, put it on," Noah said, handing you the purple one as you took a seat on the area rug with them.
Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek while Noelle reached for one of the wrapped gifts. "I'll explain everything later," he whispered. "The important thing is the elf is magical again, and everyone is happy."
You shook your head and pursed your lips. "Everyone except you. Ten years on the naughty list? You better hope Pip changes her mind before she gets back to the North Pole."
Bradley groaned and sprawled out on the floor while the kids opened their presents, but there was a smile on his face the whole time.
------------------------------
It feels good to check in with them! I'm so obsessed with elf Natasha, if you couldn't tell. Thanks for reading! Happy holidays! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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