#it will never be good enough for her. it will never be good enough of a relationship so uhhhh hope this helps!

[prael]

Day 2: Covered

IVE An Yujin x male reader smut

words: 6,374 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They said you could have been special; you would argue that you are.

Destined for greatness. A bright future. Whichever other way they wanted to express it.

The thing is, not everyone is cut out for the centre stage, and that's okay. You still get to do what you love, surrounded by people who share the same passion and work just as hard. Sometimes in life, you are the backup dancer in someone else's story. Sometimes, you literally are the backup dancer.

Yujin however, Yujin is the star. The one the world adores. The one that everyone around her seems to orbit.

You're just another face in her gravitational pull. You're on the stages and you're in the videos but no one remembers your name. There's probably an edit on Weverse somewhere with a sticker on your face. It's fine though. You've long made your peace with it.

You refuse to let that take away from the fact you spend so much time with An fucking Yujin. You've seen her in every single state, every emotion. She likes her 5 am coffee black and her mid-day one with ice. Yujin loves it when you massage her shoulders after practice and hates it when you play the same song twice in a row. However, the thing she loves above all else (and this can never go public) is having you on your knees—serving her like the queen you know her to be.

That's her secret. It's one you bear—one you're fine with keeping.

The final shoot is tomorrow, and today's practice is over but you know better than to follow everyone else out of the studio. You wait and you linger, and when the room clears out and you're sure everyone has left, you kneel and you wait. Sure enough, she notices and a smile creeps onto her face.

You don't bother to look up. Instead, you stay kneeling, waiting, knowing she's going to make her way over to you.

She does.

You hear her soft footsteps approaching and see the shadow fall over you as she stands there, looking down at you. You look up, slowly, eyes trailing up the length of her legs, over the expanse of her bare thighs and then just as you reach her hips, her fingers slip into your hair. She tightens her grip and yanks your head back so she can stare directly into your eyes.

"Did I say you could look at my legs?"

You gulp, feeling the tug on your hair and the way it makes your scalp burn. Your throat is dry, mouth parted and eyes wide. "No," you respond.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, your hands clenching into fists and relaxing again as she tugs harder, her grip unrelenting.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she scoffs. "Why do I always have to teach you a lesson?"

You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat when she shoves you to the ground and kicks her leg out, planting her foot on your chest.

"Take off my shoes, don't talk."

You rush to comply, untying the laces of her sneaker before slipping it off. Yujin switches foot and you obediently repeat the action, putting the shoe beside the first one. You know that you can't allow your eyes to linger, but her bare legs are right over you and it takes all your self-control to look away.

"Socks," Yujin mutters.

You take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she wants you to do. You're slow to reach out, placing a hand on her ankle. She lets you, allowing you to gently lift her leg and slide her sock off, dropping it to the ground beside her. Your hand slides higher, caressing the soft skin of her calf, tracing the contours of her muscles. You're almost distracted until Yujin clears her throat, glaring down at you.

You nod, sliding the second sock off her foot and letting that join the first. You don't know where to look, her skin is right in front of you, begging to be kissed. Her eyes are boring into you, demanding all your attention.

"I don't know if you deserve it," she hums, lifting her foot. She drags her toes over your chest, the ball of her foot pressing down just beneath your collarbone.

"Deserve what?"

"To taste me," she laughs. "Don't think I didn't notice how distracted you were today. Don't think I didn't notice you staring at me."

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie," she interrupts. "It's a bad habit."

You're so hopelessly disarmed. Lying underneath her on the hardwood floor of the studio with your body burning. She's so beautiful, and it's not fair. It's not fair how the universe created someone who can ruin you so easily and look so effortless doing it.

"You're lucky it's recording today tomorrow. You know what that means."

Like any other day before a big something, Yujin has a need for a release. It's a tradition at this point. The days leading up to something are so full of stress and excitement that it all gets too much and the only way for her to relieve herself is to use you.

You nod. You know exactly what it means.

She lowers her foot, and you feel her toes brush against the crotch of your shorts. You suck in a breath as she rubs up and down the fabric, pressing into you. She's watching your reaction, watching the way you bite your lip and clench your fists.

"You've been bad today. Distracted. Not focusing. Do you think you deserve this?"

"No," you shake your head.

"I don't think you do either." She removes her foot, stepping back.

It's torture. You clench your eyes as hard as your fists, desperate not to act out of turn.

"But you know what I want," she continues as you dare to open your eyes and look up. She's staring at you, hands on her hips. "You know what to do to get back on my good side."

You nod. Of course, you know. It's not the first time you've found yourself on the floor beneath her. You sit up on your knees and shuffle forwards. Her shorts are black and loose. Your fingers slip into the waistband and you tug them down slowly, sliding them over the curve of her ass, past the smooth, glowing skin of her thighs and down to her ankles.

You take a breath. You're so desperate. So hungry. She's wearing the laced panties you like. The ones you bought for her and left in her bag. They hug her so tightly that she seems to be straining against them. Her ass looks perfect, her thighs thick and inviting and her cunt...you can see the outline of her folds. The thin material barely covers her. She knows how much it affects you.

"You're staring again," she huffs, pushing her hand into your hair once more and tugging roughly.

"I can't help it," you whimper.

Her fingers twist and you feel the burn in your scalp once more as you wince in pain. Yujin's hand moves from your hair, dragging down the length of your neck and around to the front of your throat. Her hand squeezes gently, thumb and index finger digging in just below your jaw.

"You can. You will."

You gasp, her grip is tight and you can't breathe, your eyes watering with the pain and the pleasure that it brings. She leans forward, her breath hot against the shell of your ear, her grip tight. You're trembling, shaking with the effort of holding back.

"Beg me," she whispers.

"Let me taste you. Let me kiss you. Please, please let me—"

Her grip on your neck tightens, cutting you off. Your words dissolve into a whimpering mess and your eyes roll back in their sockets as your body melts into her. Her touch, her words, her everything has such an effect on you that it takes you to another world. The only thing that exists is the two of you.

"Pathetic," she scoffs, her lips brushing your ear. "You'll do anything, won't you?"

"Yes," you moan, and you mean it.

"Good," she says as she pushes you away and you collapse back against the ground. "Now make me feel good, will you? I'm sick of waiting."

Yujin steps over you, her legs on either side of you and she pulls the laced underwear to the side, lowering herself down until she's hovering just over your mouth.

She looks ethereal like this, the lights shining down on her. The goddess of your dreams, the star of your story.

"Please, let me—" You don't even need to finish your sentence, Yujin sinks down, pressing her pussy onto your lips and you open your mouth to lick at her. A mouth full of pussy, the taste of her arousal hitting your tongue. She grinds down, the soft skin of her thighs pressing in on either side of your face, trapping you. You lick again, tongue flat against her, licking up from her entrance and over her clit. She grunts and her hips buck forward, grinding her pussy down harder on your lips.

"More," she pants.

And you give it to her. Your tongue laps at her, teasing her clit. Her hips roll and you feel the slickness between her legs growing and it's all over you, coating your face as you desperately reach for her thighs. She slaps your hand away.

"Did I say you can touch?"

You struggle to shake your head between her legs.

"So keep them down."

Your hands go back to your side and she groans in approval, grinding harder and faster, using you like she knows she can. This is so Yujin, to use you like she's nothing but a toy for her to play with. You don't care, you'll do whatever she wants.

You're lost in the moment, your tongue licking, tasting and teasing as you desperately try and find the rhythm she's moving in. Her thighs tighten around your head, trapping you there. You cut shapes across her clit with your tongue and you feel the shuddering of her legs as she whines. She loves it when you write her name with your tongue. The letters spelling out An Yujin.

It's all it takes for you to be consumed by her. She's in your system and all you want to do is make her feel good.

Even the powerful, composed, elegant, Yujin has to succumb in some form to the pleasure. She's been riding you with so much poise and posture. Her back is slightly arched, so above you is just the beautiful expanse of her upper body—clung to by a sweat-soaked white shirt. She's running her hand across her chest, her fingers twisting a nipple as she works herself into a frenzy on you. Her head rolls, her hand moves to the base of her neck and she moans.

She basks in the light shining down on her, and it's a sight to behold. The way it glistens on her skin. The sweat runs down her chest. Her hair, her face. The way she looks when she's so completely in the moment.

"Fuck—" she gasps and her thighs tense around your head.

You're trapped and you're struggling. Your face is covered in slick and your mouth is filled with her taste. You feel like you're suffocating and all you can think is that this is how you want to die, with Yujin all over you. Yet you know there's more to come. She starts to crumble. The poise fades and she leans forward, slamming the palm of her hand against the floor.

She hunches as she rides harder. She's fucking down onto your face. Grinding her pussy on your lips and your chin, chasing the ecstasy that she needs. She's so close you can feel it in the way she trembles. You hear it in her moaning, her whines. She's there. Right there, on the cusp. 

And how you wish you could take hold of her. Grip her juicy ass in your hands and push your mouth against her cunt and fuck her with your tongue. You'd do it. You would. Your hands twitch at the thought. Your fingers curl into the floor instead. There will be no marks on Yujin's perfect skin from your fingers right now. You keep them clenched and do as you're told.

"Fuck—" She grunts, her thighs trembling. You can't move and you can barely breathe. All you can do is lick at her and let her ride you like a toy.

It's enough. Yujin cries out and her back arches, her head falling backwards. She comes and it's the most glorious sight, watching her body tense as her thighs tremble, clenching around your face. She grinds, rubbing against your tongue as she draws it out. It's messy and loud. She's panting, her chest heaving and she moans, rocking her hips and gasping.

It's like the tension washes out of her body and she sinks down, relaxing against you. She sits on your chest, looking down at you, a satisfied smirk on her face. You try to smile back but all you can manage is a dopey grin as you struggle to catch your breath. She's beautiful like this. Her eyes shine bright, the light behind them twinkling. Her skin glows and she looks like a work of art. A masterpiece.

"You did well," she praises, reaching out to touch your face, stroking her fingers across your cheeks, "you always do well for me, don't you?"

You nod. "I'd do anything for you," you say, and you mean it.

"I know you will." She shifts her hips, her thighs clamping down around your face again, restricting your air. Yujin laughs. "You'd let me suffocate you if I told you to."

And you would. You really would.

"But, I still have use for you," she tells you as she dismounts. Yujin relaxes on the floor next to you, her head propped up on her elbow.

You take a breath and roll over to look at her, still gasping for air. She smiles, reaching out and cupping your face with her hand, thumbing the wetness of her from your cheeks. You're a mess, covered in her, and her eyes tell you how much she loves that sight. How much she enjoys the power of having you like that.

Yujin leans over, her lips grazing over yours. The kiss is so light it makes you shiver. A complete contrast to what you've just experienced. She walks this balance so perfectly. The rough and the gentle, the affection and the torment. She's the best at both and she plays with them like an instrument.

"Do you like me?" Yujin blinks innocent eyes and it's a trap that you fall right into.

"Yes. You know that I do. I like you a lot."

Yujin grins. "Do you like my body?" She shuffles closer, looking down at you a little more. "Do you want to fuck me?"

You gulp, your mouth watering as your eyes wander over the curves of her figure, the way her nipples press against her shirt, the way the hem of it has risen, exposing her midriff and how she plays with the lace of her panties on her hip. You're so hard that you're aching and she knows that. You want her, you need her, you'd give anything to feel her.

"Yujin," you whimper. "Please."

"Do you deserve to fuck me? After being so bad today?"

"I can make up for it. I'll do anything—"

"I bet you would," she hums. Her hand reaches out, sliding over your shorts, her fingers grazing over the obvious bulge. "You want it that badly?"

You nod and you're desperate.

"You want to be inside me?"

"Please, Yujin," you whimper.

She grins, tugging at the waist of your shorts and slipping her fingers under the waist. "You want to grab my ass while I ride you like the toy that you are? Do you want me to bounce on your dick, hm? The one that belongs to me?"

You bite your lip as you nod fervently, watching the way her eyes shine and the corners of her lips twist. Yujin lets out a soft laugh at your desperation.

"Then worship me." She pulls her hand away from your crotch and places it on her hip to pose. "Show me how much you like my body."

Yujin rolls onto her back, throws her hands above her head and bends a knee as her other leg stretches out. She looks so perfect, so inviting. So you climb to your knees, looking over her as she relaxes. There's a natural arch to her body between her shoulders and her ass that leaves a sliver of light between the small of her back and the floor. She's an art piece. Like a statue carved from stone, sculpted and designed to be admired. A creation so beautiful and elegant.

And you're on your knees for her, kissing up her outstretched leg. Your hand traces over her thigh. You're slow, taking your time. The skin beneath your lips is so soft, so smooth, so delicate. You don't deserve her. Your lips press into the path your hand paves up her body. Gentle kisses of appreciation on the thigh you adore so much.

"Yujin—" you breathe the words hot onto her skin. A lick, to taste the sweat from her body, a kiss, to mark the spot. A honey-laced laugh rings in the air. "You're so beautiful," you murmur.

Your mouth presses against her hip, tongue trailing over her skin. Your fingers lip up under her tight-fitted shirt. She's so warm. Her body feels like it's burning and her breaths are heavy.

She looks down the length of her body to watch you as your hand slides up, pushing her shirt with it. Your lips graze over your stomach, tongue teasing and tracing over the defined lines. You're in awe of her. She's perfect, and she knows it, but you still want her to know that she's appreciated. That she's worshipped, admired, adored, lusted for, and wanted.

"I know I am," she laughs, "but tell me more."

"An Yujin," you breathe the name into her skin as you kiss your way to her chest, your hand sliding further up her body until the palm of your hand rests on the softness of her breast. "No one is like you," you whisper as you squeeze the mound in your hand, feeling her body beneath you, feeling the way it moves when your hand does. "You're so flawless."

She moans softly when your fingers pinch her nipple. "Keep going," Yujin hums.

"You're stunning," you continue, looking up at her face as you kiss across her chest to the other breast, your hand still fondling. Your mouth hovers over her nipple and your eyes flicker up to meet hers as you lick over it. She gasps and you lick again, teasing and flicking over it. "You're the most decadent, alluring thing I have ever laid eyes on."

"I'm your fantasy?" Her hands move to the top of your head, her fingers twisting into the strands of your hair as you lick, sucking her into your mouth again, teasing her with the flat of your tongue. You suck and she lets out a sharp hiss of a moan.

"My fantasy," you breathe the words against her chest. "You're my dream."

Her hips lift, pushing against you and the growing ache of your erection. The friction, the heat, the feeling of her—it's so good. She grinds, rolling her hips and rubbing against your cock, smirking at the way you whine, your eyes fluttering.

"You want to cum," she taunts. "Don't you?"

"Yujin," you moan her name again as her fingers twist tighter in your hair. Your hips roll down to meet the grind of her body and your mouth finds the crook of her neck. You inhale the scent of her. You're surrounded by Yujin. It's dizzying. She's everywhere. The smell of her, the taste of her on your tongue and lips, the feeling of her skin on your hands, under your body, the sight of her, the sound of her voice. Everything is Yujin, and you can't think of a better world to live in. "I want you," you tell her. "I want to be inside you, I need you."

"I know what you need," she hums. Yujin's hands tug on your shirt and you sit back and pull it off. Her palms press against your chest, pushing you to lie back on the floor. You watch her and the grace with which she moves, kneeling over your waist as she peels her own shirt over her head and tosses it to the side.

Your eyes are all over her body. Yujin's hands run over the softness of her skin, and she cups her tits in her hands, rolling her thumbs over her nipples, her eyes locked on yours as you watch. Her body is a wonderland. There's no part of it that you haven't seen. No inch of her skin you haven't touched or tasted. You know every crevice of it, every mark and blemish, every imperfection. You know them all and you love them. They're the most perfect imperfections you've ever seen.

She knows the power that her body has over you, the control it gives her. Yujin knows how to wield that weapon, how to make it into the sharpest sword, and how to cut you with it.

"Fuck me," you plead, the words escaping your lips in desperation. "Yujin, please."

"You beg so beautifully for me," she smiles, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

And you obey, lifting them from the floor. Yujin's fingers tug at the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. She smiles at the sight of you, hard and leaking. Yujin's hands slide over your bare thighs. You're exposed, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your skin sends a chill up your spine. Her palms slide up until she wraps one around the base of your cock and her touch sends a shiver through your body. Yujin strokes up, slowly, twisting her hand on the upstroke. Your hips buck at her touch and she grins at the way your cock twitches, the precum leaking across the back of her hand as she reaches the top.

"You're so needy," she says as her hand glides back down. Your eyes are wide, watching every move she makes as if your life depended on it. "I like it," she tells you.

"I'd do anything—"

"I know you would," Yujin laughs, cutting you off. She shuffles forward on her knees until her thighs press on either side of your waist, caging you between her. The way she towers over you, with that look in her eyes that says you belong to her. "You're my toy, aren't you?"

"I'm your toy."

"That's right." Her hand squeezes tighter around the base of your cock as she lifts her hips, hovering just over you. You don't know how long she's going to keep you waiting, you never do. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. She has a sadistic streak that you've never understood and it's always a game of how desperate can she make you before giving in to your begging. "And who does this belong to?" she asks.

"You. Yujin. It belongs to you," you breathe the words, your fingers curling into the palms of your hands.

"That's right, it belongs to me. This cock," she strokes up again. "It's mine. Isn't it?" Yujin's fingers trace up, circling your tip.

"It's yours," you whimper. The desperation has you whining.

"It is," she laughs, and it's a sound that makes your stomach twist into knots. She squeezes you and lifts her hips just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of her body. You feel her thighs squeeze against you as she grinds her pussy on the underside of your cock, dragging the length of you through her folds and over her clit.

Instinct dictates that you bring your hand to her hip, but you know you can't just take hold of her, not unless she's given the go-ahead. You clench your hands tighter, biting your lip to hold in your frustration, your desperation.

Yujin's hips rock against you again, grinding down and using your cock to get herself off. You can feel the slickness between her legs. You can hear the wet sound it makes. She's using you, and she's loving every second. It's the sound you know too well. She's getting herself off. The feeling of her is intoxicating, and your cock is throbbing, twitching as it slides against her pussy, hitting her clit. The moans from Yujin's lips tell you exactly what it's doing to her. How much she loves the way it makes her feel.

You can't touch. You can't take control. All you can do is lie back, your head tipped back against the floor as your fingers grip in vain at the floor, struggling to keep them from reaching out for her. Yujin's body moves like silk in the wind, and you know she's so close. The sound of her, the feeling of her. She's riding the edge, grinding down, the tip of your cock catching on her entrance as she teases you with every move.

"Yujin—" you beg her name as your head falls to the side, eyes clenched closed.

"What?" Her voice is thick with lust and you feel her hand on your chin, gripping your jaw, her nails biting into your cheeks. She turns your face and forces your eyes open to watch the way she moves. "You want to be inside me?"

You can only nod in reply, feeling her fingers tighten around you, squeezing. She grins, leaning over and you feel the breath of her laughter on your neck. Her lips brush your skin. Her teeth nip, biting down on your shoulder, making you wince. Yujin's hips roll forward, and the tip of your cock catches on her entrance. She holds there for a moment, a silent torment of anticipation as your mind swirls and your stomach flips. And then you feel the heat, her warmth as she slowly pushes herself onto your cock. You watch with a hitched breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You feel her. She feels you.

The breath you'd held rushes out, a gasping moan, the feeling of being enveloped by her body. The tight warmth as Yujin sinks all the way down. Her pussy grips your length, squeezing tight and you can feel the way it flutters, the way it grips, the way it clenches around you. Your eyes meet hers, and you can see how much she enjoys having this effect on you. How she loves the way you react, the sounds she forces you to make, the way you squirm and gasp beneath her. She owns you. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably.

Her hands press down on your chest, and she starts to move, rolling her hips, circling, lifting up just enough that she can feel you slide in and out of her. You can feel it all, you're aware of every movement she makes. How she grinds her clit against your body on the downstroke, the way her hips tilt to find the right spot, the way she moans when she hits the perfect angle. The way she moves when she finds the right pace, the perfect rhythm. It's everything and all at once.

"You feel so good inside me," Yujin purrs. She leans back, placing a hand on the top of your thigh. Her body is open to you. She's exposed. The panties she still wears are pulled to the side, her breasts bouncing with every move of her body, her stomach tightening, the soft skin pulled taut as her abs clench. She's a sight, a beauty to behold and a treasure to worship.

"Yujin, please," you breathe the word into the space between the two of you. It's not enough, you need to touch. You have to. But you're trapped and she's in charge. "Let me touch you."

"No." It's simple, the way she says it. It's like she's not even thinking about the effect she's having on you like she doesn't even realise what she's doing to your sanity. She rides you like a toy, her hips moving, grinding down, her thighs squeezing and relaxing as she works. You can only whine, lying back against the ground. You watch as she takes what she needs from you, her hand slipping down her stomach and to her clit, circling quickly as her moans fill the room. "This is my cock," she breathes, "and I'll do what I like with it."

"Yes," you hiss as your hips push upwards, your hands balled into fists at your sides. You're so hard it hurts. It aches and it throbs, and all you can do is lie back, trapped beneath Yujin and her powerful thighs. "Yujin—" you breathe, but the words stick in your throat.

Her eyes are dark, the lust-filled pools staring down at you as you lie back, completely helpless and at her mercy. Your cock twitches and she gasps, her hand on her clit, rubbing furiously, chasing her release. She's getting closer and closer with each passing second and it shows in her face. Her brow creasing, lips parted and eyes fluttering.

She's fucking herself on your dick. Yujin is using you to get herself off and you love every second of it. The feeling of her walls gripping you tight, squeezing, her body clenching around you. The way her thighs tense and shake as she moves. Her moans, her gasps. Her eyes are on you, watching you watch her.

Yujin gasps and her body shudders, her pace quickening, her fingers circling faster, rubbing frantically at her clit as she chases her orgasm. You know how close she is, and all you can do is watch her face as she gets closer and closer. Her body is shaking, trembling as the wave builds inside her. Her moans get louder, and more intense. Her fingers work harder, and you feel her tightening, the walls of her pussy squeezing down, and then she cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching, her chest pushing out as she rides the waves of her orgasm.

It's beautiful. The way her body reacts to it all, the way she looks when she comes undone. Yujin moans your name and it sends shivers up and down your spine. She looks ethereal like this. A deity to be admired. A queen on her throne.

She's beautiful. She's breathtaking. She's Yujin.

When the waves stop crashing, Yujin collapses onto you, her body limp and spent. The warmth of her body pressed against you feels like heaven and your cock is still inside her, pulsing, aching, begging for its own release.

"I don't know if I should let you cum," Yujin pants in a whisper, her face pressed against your shoulder, the hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Could just leave you here like this. All hard and frustrated. Aching. You'd probably go home and get yourself off thinking about me."

She's right. Of course, she's right. You would.

"Or maybe you can show me just how much you appreciate me," she breathes, pushing herself up, hands on either side of your head. "Would you like that?"

"Anything," you tell her. Your hands twitch, desperate to reach up to her. "You know I would."

"I know." She smirks and sits up. Her hips lift until you feel your cock slipping out of her, her wetness dripping onto you. Yujin's fingers trace over the mess she's left, smearing it on her fingertips before bringing it to your lips. You know what she wants. She doesn't even need to ask.

Your mouth opens and she pushes her fingers between your parted lips, letting you lick them clean. You suck her fingers and her eyes watch you, a glint of something dangerous shining. She pulls them out slowly, dragging the tips over your bottom lip. "Good," Yujin breathes the word as she climbs off of you and turns around.

The curve of her ass is a beautiful thing to see. It's soft, smooth, plump. She catches a glance at you staring, a smirk tugging on her lips. She plants her hand against her ass (a harsh reminder that feeling it yourself requires her permission) and squeezes the flesh before letting out a laugh. It's all a game to her.

"You're going to show me, by cumming for me. Cumming on me." She settles back onto the floor, gracefully lying back into a pose. "You have two minutes. Two minutes to show me how much you love my body." She runs a hand from her chest all the way to her hips and you watch, entranced by every movement she makes. Yujin laughs again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The words kick you into action and you scramble to your knees and shuffle towards her. She laughs at the sweet, sweet honey sound that makes you melt. Your hand wraps around the base of your cock, the wetness from Yujin's pussy coating it, slick and smooth as you slowly stroke your length. You stare at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her fingers trace up and down the skin of her thigh, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

It's intoxicating. You're drunk on Yujin, high off of her beauty, and you're addicted. There's no going back. You're hers, completely. Your fist tightens around your length and your strokes quicken. The feeling of it is so good and your cock is still throbbing from being trapped inside her. You can feel the lingering heat of her body on your skin. The scent of her, the taste, the sound. It's everywhere. Surrounding you. Enveloping you. Engulfing you. Consuming you.

"Two minutes," she hums the reminder, her fingers sliding between her thighs. Yujin's fingers slide over the panties she still wears. "Two minutes to make yourself cum for me. To make a mess of my body."

"Yujin," you whimper her name like it's a prayer. The sound of her voice, the sight of her body. The knowledge of what you've done, of what you've experienced. You've been inside her. You've had the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her in your ears. Her pussy is still dripping and her thighs glistening. You're still so hard that you're aching, and all you can do is stroke yourself. All you can do is pump your hand and feel your fingers glide up and down your shaft.

Your eyes flicker from the smooth, warm, inviting skin of her chest to her pussy and back. You've tasted her. You've felt her. You've felt the way she grips and clenches, the way she feels. The sound of her when she cums.

"I don't know if you can do it. I don't know if you can cum." Yujin teases and she knows how to play you. "One minute."

"Yujin," you moan her name again and again as you feel it building. The pressure. The heat. Your cock twitches in your hand as you stroke. The sensation of the wet heat, the friction, the knowledge that Yujin is beneath you, but you're hers to command, to control. It's too much and it's everything. You feel it in your core, a twisting, coiling, winding tension that's threatening to snap.

"Do you want to cum on me?" Her voice breaks through the fog. "Do you want to mark my body with your cum? Make a mess of me?"

She throws her hands above her head, stretching out her body and presenting herself for your load. "Thirty seconds," Yujin warns, the hint of danger on the tip of her tongue.

"Yujin—" You can only whisper her name as you stroke. Hard and fast, gripping and twisting. You're so close. Right there, standing on the precipice.

"That's it. Be a good boy for me," she praises. "Show me how much you adore me."

"I—I—" Your words die in your throat, a gasping, breathless moan. You're cumming, the tension snaps and it's all too much. The pleasure rushes over you like a wave. You're drowning in it. You're suffocating. Your hips stutter, thrusting into your fist, pumping your length as you feel the hot spurts of your cum painting over Yujin's perfect, beautiful skin. The first spurt splashes across her breasts, the second spattering across her stomach and chest. Her laughter fills the room. She loves this, seeing the way she's ruined you.

Your body shakes, your hand slowing as the final drops fall from your cock to the expanse of Yujin's body. Your mind swims as you struggle to breathe. Your head spins and your vision is blurry. She's laughing, her fingers swiping through the cum, rubbing it into her skin. Her hands roam all over her body and you're entranced. Your body feels like jelly as you collapse, slumped onto your side on the floor beside her.

"Good boy," Yujin purrs, her hand sliding over her stomach and down between her legs, rubbing at her clit with your cum. She's smearing it everywhere, all over her pussy, her fingers slipping between her folds and then back to her clit. It runs over her chest, dripping down the side of her tit. Her breath hitches and you watch, mesmerised by her. "Such a good boy."

"Yujin," her name falls from your lips as if you've lost all other words, the way a prayer is uttered, reverently and devotedly. "I—"

She laughs again. It's light and playful. "I know. I'm the best, right? You're so lucky."

"Yes." It's the only thing you can think of to say. You are lucky. So unbelievably lucky.

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Sleepy Girl - p.b.

‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!

‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛

‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!

The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.

It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.

Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?

The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.

And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.

But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.

Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.

Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.

She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.

Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.

You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.

Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.

Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.

You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.

You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.

Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.

And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.

Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.

"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.

"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”

Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.

"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.

The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.

She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."

"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.

"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.

"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.

You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.

Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.

"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.

"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.

"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.

You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.

The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.

As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.

"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"

Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.

You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.

"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.

She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."

You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.

Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.

You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.

"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.

"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.

"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.

Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.

"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.

[shouyuus]

Pitfighter!vi who makes you keep eye contact with her and say her name while she fucks you because she wants you to know that it’s HER who’s making you feel that good 🙏 (request ish but also responding to the vi thirsts thingy)

i... have such a thing for eye contact!vi u have no idea.

18+, mndi, smut, slight angst, and fluff at the end

"eyes on me, princess --" she says, twisting your jaw towards her as she fucks her fingers into you, her makeup in black streaks running down her cheeks, her skin peppered with cuts and bruises, fat and dark as summer plums.

you whine, blinking up at her, your lashes clumped with salt as she fucks you through the nth orgasm that night, and you know that it's one of the bad nights, one of those nights where she comes home angry off a loss and already drunk. you bite your lips, her name trembling on the tip of your tongue even as she forces your mouth open to bury her own groans in the depth of your throat.

"moan for me --" she says, her voice a honey-bee's rasp against your lips, thick and syrup-sweet, but just as suffocating, the way it slicks across your tongue, "say my name --" she breathes.

you hiss, eyes squeezing shut as her dull nails scrape along your inner walls, making your legs kick out, your belly roiling within you at the relentless pressure.

"vi --" you force out, the breath punching from you as she angles her fingers up into that one gummy spot inside you that has you keening.

"i said look --" she clasps her whole hand around your jaw, squeezing so tight your mouth falls open, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth, "at --" she thrusts three fingers into you, "me."

you force your eyes open to meet her gaze -- and it's well-dark depths. you make a noise somewhere between a sob and a whimper, feeling her fingers digging into the soft plush of your cheeks as she gives you face a tiny little shake.

"vi, please --" and you don't even know what you're begging for anymore. mercy, perhaps, or just some kind of absolution. she stares at you, her gaze flickering from one eye to the other, as if searching for the answer there to a question she's never had courage enough to ask out loud.

finally, she lets you go, and your head thumps back against the pillows, though your hand reaches out to clasp around her wrists as she holds you by the hips and fucks you into the mattress, groaning when she feels you clamp down around her.

she laces her fingers with yours, this one single tenement of softness, as she groans, feeling you come apart around her.

she doesn't say much as she pulls out of you, staring at the shiny slick that coats her skin, brings it to her lips for a taste before shooting you a sharp, crescent-moon grin.

"violet..."

and she stills at the sound of your voice wrapped around the full weight of her name -- like a wish, or a promise. she sighs, leaning down to drop a kiss to your shoulder. you sit up, your fingers still linked through hers.

"it was a bad night," she'd say, looking anywhere but at you, pulling away to run her hands under the murky water from her tiny sink. you watch her from the bed, the mattress nothing more than a few stacks of cushions shoved together, empty bottles littering the floor.

"yeah?" you ask, shifting back a few inches as she settles on the edge of the bed, her head hung low. you reach forward, waiting for her to pull away. but when she doesn't, you curl yourself around the bend of her back and press your cheek to her shoulder, careless of the inky black paint that transfers from her skin to yours.

she lets you hold her for a few, long, solid minutes. they slick by like river water, made thick with silt or shimmer. you trace your fingers along the dark, smudged-out shapes of her tattoos -- and you think to yourself that she's beautiful -- even like this, broken and bruised and so, so angry.

"look at me," you whisper, turning her head with a finger, and she gives a the tiniest bit of resistance before letting you coax her face towards yours, her eyes bright in the slantwise light.

the moon slits a scimitar sliver through the sky, and down here, even the stars take on a sickly purple glow. but, as vi looks you over, allows herself the pleasure of admiring your face, she thinks that you somehow have the gall to be beautiful, even now.

she doesn't stop to think that you might be thinking the same of her.

you are.

"have you got a fight tomorrow?" you ask, reaching out to trace a thumb across the smudged paint on her cheeks. your finger comes away dark, but the tattoo beneath her eye's just a bit more visible now. she shakes her head.

"no. medic said i've gotta take a few days off."

she scoffs, her gaze cutting away.

"good," you say, "a break is good."

"i don't need a break," she gruffs, and you laugh.

"i know. but... that means you can sleep in tomorrow."

she quirks an eyebrow, "i can sleep in any day i want. the fights don't start till --"

"i know, vi -- i'm just saying," you say, imploring as a grin twitches over her lips, "we can... do something together, if you'd like."

vi blinks, "we?"

you purse your lips, looking down at where your fingers are inches from hers.

"unless --"

"yeah. no -- i mean -- it's fine. we -- we can."

and for a second, she sounds so nervous, so uncertain, that you almost laugh. because since when has vi been this bashful in your presence? but when you look up again, it's to catch her watching you with a strange, halfway light in her eyes. and you're not sure if it's the moon or the stars, or simply the cheap alcohol eating through both your veins, but you fancy that it looks just a little bit like affection, stained at the edges with tenderness.

it spreads warmth through your limbs, and tingles at your nose and your fingertips.

"okay then," you say, nodding, even as she pushes you back onto her makeshift mattress and slots her lips over yours once more.

the kiss is long, but soft. and when she pulls away, you're both just a bit breathless. though, not on the heavy, panting way you usually are off the deep, desperate kisses she gives you. no, this is something sweeter, something lighter. something that tastes very much like heartache at the back of your tongue.

"c'mere..." you say, tugging her into you even as the pair of your collapse onto her bed, her rucking the thin blanket haphazardly over the shape of your bodies, nothing more than a tangle of limbs, her cheek pillowed against your sternum, her lengthening hair tickling your chin.

you run a few fingers through the rough patches at the sides of her head.

"the dye's coming out."

vi grunts, her body heavy as she sinks into the heat of your embrace.

"whatever. let it grow."

you grin to yourself, thinking that you'd always loved the natural color of her hair -- bright as rubies in the hungering dark. but as you thread your fingers through them again and again, vi shifts against you, looping her arms around your middle to pull you into her.

she mumbles something into the skin of your chest that you don't quite catch.

"hm?" you ask, leaning down.

she sighs, her breath hot as it washes over your collarbones.

"you'll still be here in the morning, yeah?"

you pause, wondering for a second if it's a question or a plea.

you let out a tiny laugh.

"if you want me to be, then... yeah. i will."

vi only curls her fingers against your waist. she burrows her face more deeply into your chest, holding you close, and then closer.

"right," she says, shifting till the both of you are comfortable, "yeah," she adds after a few more seconds.

then, she lifts her head to look at you, her eyes catching yours in the dust-stricken moonlight -- and you can swear that she's smiling.

"good."

"goodnight, violet," you whisper, as her eyelids flutter shut, and she softens against you.

"night, princess. see you in the morning..." she says, her voice quiet and just a bit slurred.

"yeah. see you then."

[norikuna]

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

[fakevalentine]

i can't stop thinking about sub!jinx with "it won't fit" "it hurts" PLAEASE 😭😭

cw ! subjinx. strap sex. pain kink.

jinx was always too cocky for her own good. she believed she was truly invincible— no matter what she did, she just couldn't seem to die anyway. that's bound to give someone some ego.

so she convinced herself, and you, that she could take that strap. it was hard to believe considering jinx was on the smaller side, but she would rather live up in topside than back out or give up.

but now, as you hold her hips up and continue inching the silicone into her despite the resistance her pussy was giving you, she was having some mixed feelings.

"can't—" she complains into the sheets, already feeling embarrassed. "it won't fit..."

you pause, tearing your eyes away from how she engulfed the toy. she was doing well, or as best as she could, but she was starting to second guess her choice.

you know jinx is a smart girl, she knows what she can take and what she can't. so, you leave it up to her. "you know how to make me stop," you murmur, sliding your hand up and down her back.

the safeword is building up on her tongue, something she had never said before with you. even if you never mentioned it again, it would always linger as a cloud of reminder that she couldn't take it above her head. but it's reassuring to know that it's always there— that even as a submissive, she had control of how far you went.

you pull her hips up a little more, gathering spit in your mouth and letting fall down on the silicone to hopefully make it easier for her, continuing to push into her.

jinx groans, grabbing onto the sheets and whimpering at the burn of the stretch, her foot kicking up in response. "ah— f.. uck..."

your hand creeps around her slim body and between her thighs, slowly rubbing her clit to help her take it. she whines and grinds on your fingers, successfully distracting her and slipping more of the toy into her.

she hisses quietly, her body jolting slightly. "pl— please... it hurts..."

her words and whimpers of pain are starting to make you feel guilty, but she still hasn't said the safe word. is it because of her inflated ego, or something else? you hesitate, your own breathing uneven and unsure. "jinx."

a whine falls from her mouth, her cunt clenching around the strap and swallowing a little more of it. "k-keep going... just.. keep going."

you exhale and do as she says, your gaze fixated on the colored toy disappearing onto her pale pussy, made a little easier by the stimulation on her clit.

the pain makes her curse and tremble a little, her body resisting instinctively but her mind flooding with desires of more— so much that she starts to get wetter, and soon enough you're bottomed out watching her squirm and pant.

you let her adjust, your hand trailing over her abdomen to feel the small bump under her skin, indicating just how deep you were inside her. she moans as you gently massage over it, her walls pulsing around the toy.

your hips draw back after a few more moments, just enough for her to feel the faux veins rub inside her before pushing back in. she lets out a strangled moan, completely at your mercy.

"is that it, huh? you wanna be stretched?"

jinx's eyes squeeze shut at your words, her thighs twitching which is a better answer that whatever excuse she was trying to come up with in her fuzzy mind.

code = cracked !!

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ taglist !

@fortluocha @ocharavitys @trizxyp @aelizreal @uhh-lana @amastarxoxo @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @chaostudi

[toxycodone]

cw. nsfw! + feat. the Tulpar creww

an. I did NOT expect this to blow up lol. It was literally just me posting some thoughts I had 💀💀 but anyways….put a nsfw warning on this and a read more

thinking about the way they fuck you…

Curly’s got those slow, deliberate strokes that have your orgasm building up brick by brick. He’s all about eye contact and kisses your temple while whispering praise to you. He’s such a groaaaaner too, right into your ear because he wants you to hear what you do to him. He’s so deliberate and knows all the tips and tricks. Totally presses against your pelvis or puts a pillow under you so you’re seeing stars with every thrust. He’s confessing his love for you every time his orgasm builds up and right when he cums. He can’t help it. Very romantic.

Jimmy’s rougher, he pounds into you like he’s got something to prove. But as time goes on he has to slow down (partially because he can’t keep up that pace and partially bc he’s gonna cum too fast). He’ll get slower. Rough growls and fingernails digging into your skin as he chases his own high. His balls smack against your ass and the sound can basically be felt. He also nips at your skin too. Like, not biting (unless you want) but he’s holding onto you with his teeth. When he’s close to cumming (and yall are in a established relationship) he moans your name when he cums.

Anya’s a lot more classic. She likes missionary for the intimacy, and she rides you slowly at first, before grinding against you and rubbing her clit on you until she’s drenching the in between of your thighs. But also…cowgirl. She likes when you let her be in control. And she isn’t nice about it either. She’ll tease you through your underwear, dry humping you until you cum in your pants, then tease you for how sensitive you are. (as if she isn’t a thrust away from cumming lmfao). Anya liiiives for foreplay and just wants to be aching and desperate, both of you just eager to cum, before getting to the main event. She will stifle her noises at first, but if you move her palm and tell her you wanna hear her she’ll practically sing your name.

Daisuke’s so desperate. Like, each time you fuck he’s legit trembling from the sensations. Doesn’t matter if you’re on top or if he is but he’s always gonna be whining and muttering praise between bouts of “please, please, *please*”. (see Josh Hutcherson in that one movie for ref. Like…he’s a beggar and a moaner.). He’s touchy and loves cupping your chest and sucking your nipples. His pace just can’t be slow, he totally fucks like a rabbit and will bust like one too, so he spends a lot of time on foreplay to get you where you need to be before he fucks you. (He gets a wet spot in his boxers that’s so prominent you’d think he has a pussy). He’s watched so much porn he does the classic throws his head back and rolls back his eyes when he enters you btw.

Swansea. He’s fucking using you like a fleshlight. This man knows what the fuck he’s doing. He doesn’t go fast, but he doesn’t need to. His cock does a lot of work because it’s so girthy and stretches you out enough you can feel him in your tummy. He prefers having you bent over something so all he has to do is thrust his hips into yours. He also like, angles down so his stomach isn’t too in the way and you can feel him fully, his pubes tickling between your thighs. He’s a grunter. Groaner. Throwing out curses between grit teeth while you’re practicing sobbing on the desk. He’ll say cocky little lines too like “right there? That feel good?” And chuckles when you cum all over him. Oh and he never forgets about stroking you too. Swansea always has his fingers circling your clit/reaching around and stroking you off at all times. And he keeps going while you cum until you’re twitching and pushing his hand away from you.

[pomegranatesarchive]

not so secret santa

pairing: max verstappen x redbull!reader

part of redbull!reader

summary: secret santa has never been your favorite holiday tradition; in fact, you’ve always found it more stressful than fun. but this year, it’s somehow even worse—because out of all the people you could have drawn, you ended up with your teammate, max. [3.4k]

warnings: JOS VERSTAPPEN!!!! oscar piastri and his existential thoughts (and mental breakdown) fluff, reader having a breakdown over gifts. reader and daniel riccarido content. reader has 'she/her' pronouns. (yn) used once.

.

"Can't I skip it this year?" you grumbled, watching as the F1 social media admin walked up to you, a phone in one hand, and a Christmas hat in the other.

The woman frowned behind the camera, shaking the hat slightly, "You love Christmas." she pointed out.

You nodded, pocketing your phone in your back pocket, you were on your way to the garage before you were stopped by the last person you wanted to see.

You had no problem with the admin, on the contrary, you found her delightful, but she was making the round of secret santa, and that's why you were hoping to avoid her.

"Christmas and Secret Santa are not the same." you quipped, reaching your hand into the hat and swirling around the tiny slips of paper. You took a deep breath, grasping one before pulling it out, the camera following your every movement.

You leaned by, opening the slip away from prying eyes, "Shit." you cursed, quickly trying to put the paper back into the hat.

The admin laughed, leaning back, "No switching!"

You groaned, "C'mon please!"

She laughed, shaking your head, "Nope! Show the camera."

You grumbled, slowly turning the paper, Max Verstappen.

The woman laughed, delighted by the odds, "Okay. You remember the rules?"

"Don't tell anyone." you grumbled, pocketing the slip of paper, "I never know what to get!" you whined, as much as you loved Christmas the gift-giving part was something you despised, you always second-guessed yourself, and could never pick out what you deemed a 'good gift.’

"You have until two weeks from now." she beamed, before walking away, no doubt on her way to find her next victim.

.

Later that day you had a list of those who could help you on the hunt for the perfect gift. The first person on your list for help was, unfortunately, out of all people, Jos Verstappen.

Truly he was the last person you would ever want to talk to, but you thought that if anyone could be able to help you with picking out a gift, it would be Max's dad.

You would've gone to his mother, or even sister first. But they rarely visited the garage, much less when Jos was around, which you entirely understood.

"Get him something for racing," he spoke simply, you stood near him awkwardly, this was only your second one-on-one conversation in all the years you've been racing with his child, and moments like these reminded you why you avoided him, "Gloves."

You blinked, "You don't think I should get him something more personal? I mean I've known him for a while now."

"You've known him for a while and still don't know what to get him?" he sent you a look, and you resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm bad a gifts."

"Then don't get him anything," the man shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing, "He hasn't been doing good enough to deserve a good Christmas." he scoffed.

"He's leading the championship." you laughed in amazement, truly not understanding how a father could say such things about his own child.

Jos' eyes snapped over to you, "Norris is catching up, he's not doing good enough."

"Not good enough?" you gaped, taking a step back, deciding to let it go and not start an argument in the middle of the garage, "Nevermind. Nevermind. Thank you for your…help.” you didn’t bother giving him a fake smile, turning on your heel quickly and walking out of the garage.

“Asshole,” you whispered to yourself, walking quickly with eyes on the ground.

“My dad?” you stopped abruptly, looking up to see Max in all his glory standing in front of you.

“Hm?” you blinked, staring up at him.

He pursed his lips, hands on his hips, “You were talking to my dad.”

You nodded slowly, debating whether to lie or not, “…I was.”

He hummed, left eye slightly twitching, “Okay. Why?”

Your mind went blank, thinking of any excuse you could use, “Um…”

Max eyes you, nodding along with you, “Um…”

"I just wanted to catch up."

In hindsight, you definitely should've come up with something more believable.

Max shot you a very telling look, letting you know that he didnt believe an ounce of what you were saying, "Catching up? With Jos?"

"Yes?" you squinted up at him, tone not as believable as you wanted it to be.

"You don't catch up with Jos. You don't like Jos."

You tried to look offended, "I can catch up with Jos."

Max let out a short laugh, eyes glancing behind you, no doubt to his father, "No. You don't like him." he repeated, "Most people don't like him."

You stared up at him with a blank look before letting out a deep breath, "You're right, I don't like him."

Max nodded once more, an amused look on his face, "So why were you talking to him?"

You balled your hands into a fist wanting nothing more but to tell him that you were on a search for the perfect gift, but you resisted, "I wanted to catch up with Jos but then he opened his mouth and reminded me why I stay away."

Max said nothing, simply staring down at you, a certain look in his eyes, you sighed, "I promise."

Finally, Max let up, giving you a smile, and patting your shoulder before walking towards his father.

With a grimace you quickly spun on your heel, catching Jos's eyes, you pressed a finger to your lips, hoping you would get the hint—it appeared like he didnt by the way he looked at you in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

You watched them anxiously for a moment, before scurrying away, choosing to not see the moment Max realized you had lied to him.

Back with the Verstappens, Max was eyeing his father oddly. He knew you had just lied to him, your anxious tone and the way you balled your hands into fists told him you were lying, he just didnt know about what.

"You two were catching up?" Max voiced his disbelief, the last thing he expected was for his father to continue you lie.

"Yes, Max." his father sighed, already annoyed by the talk you and him just had, and now he had his son asking him the same question over and over again.

"About what?" the exasperation in the racer's voice pulled a smile to Jos's face.

He turned to his son with his arms crossed, "Win this race, and I'll tell you."

Max blinked, truly that was the last thing he expected to come from his father...and it made him mad. Years of winning and winning, and the man couldn't tell him this one thing? When had he ever asked for anything from him?

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking away, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

.

There was something so intimating about Oscar Piastri and his blank face. Maybe it was because of how calm cool and collected he was, while at the moment you were the exact opposite. Either way, you were cursing Secret Santa for putting you in this position.

It was the day after your pick when you ran into him in the hotel reception center, he was sitting on a couch, eyes and face blank.

You contemplated walking away multiple times, but you knew you needed all the imput you could get to get Max the perfect gift.

"Hey Oscar..." you sang awkwardly slowly sliding down to the spot next to him.

He blinked slowly, turning to you slowly, "Hey." he mumbled, before turning back and facing straight, no doubt creeping out some of the people walking by.

You argued with yourself mentally, trying to build up the courage to talk with the man next to you, "So uh.. who'd you get for Secret Santa?" you tried, cringing into yourself.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"I'm won’t tell anyone."

"You'll tell Max." you didnt bother trying to defend yourself, knowing he was right, you would've definitely blurted it out to Max.

"Yeah.." you mumbled slowly, prusing your lips.

"You got him right—Max?" he asked simply.

You snapped your head over to him before looking around the hotel reception room crazily, "Shh!" you whispered and shouted, "He could hear you."

Yesterday after Max's conversation with his father, you were sure he was going to come back and let you know that his father had spilled the beans, teasing you over not being able to keep 'secret' Santa a 'secret' for longer than 24 hours.

But he never did. Instead, he complained about Jos for almost a full hour, not once did he bring up the gift situation.

"Yes. Because I'm sure he can hear me from the track...from here."

You shrunk slightly in embarrassment, you were not aware he had left the hotel, "You never know." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "So uh.. you're good at gift-giving, right?"

Oscar tilted his head in thought, "I mean, I don't think it's something I'm known for."

"But like, you're good at it right?" you tried leaning towards him.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Happily, you slightly bounced on your spot, "Great!" you paused, "So like, hypothetically, if you got Max for Secret Santa," you saw a small smile spread on Oscar's face, "Hypothetically, what would you get him?"

Oscar hummed, "Hypothetically..." he dragged the word out, he paused before seeming stumped, "I don't know.."

"Oscar!" you groaned, slumping in disappointment.

"I seriously don't know," he whispered to himself, seemingly distraught, "Wow...I don't know."

The room's tone shifted as Oscar kept mumbling to himself.

"It's okay Oscar," you smiled awkwardly, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." he muttered to himself, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay.." you patted his arm, noticing more and more people were glancing your way, yet he didnt stop mumbling to himself.

You laughed awkwardly, slowly getting up, "Yeah okay." you mumbled, looking around before walking away, leaving him with his mumbles.

You circled around the hotel lobby for what felt like hours (it was three minutes) continuously taking peeks at Oscar, who continued to look in horror at a revelation that he, did not know.

After a few more circles, you thankfully spotted the next person on your ‘help with gift’ list, Lando. He was exiting the elevator, a concerned look on his face as he started heading towards Oscar.

You took off in a quick jog, cutting him off mid-walk, he stumbled on his feet trying to not bump into you, “Hey!” you greeted gleefully, blocking his eyesight as they trailed back to Oscar.

"Hey." he blinked, shooting you a quick smile before his eyes inevitability trailed back to Oscar, who had a deep frown on his face.

"I need your help," you pursed your lips, Lando looked down at you in confusion before looking back to Oscar, contemplation clear on his face. You decided to clear the air, "Oscars fine. He just's...thinking, about what I'm going to ask you actually!"

It took a second before Lando nodded in acceptance, "Okay? What’s up?"

"I got Max for Secret Santa, and I want to get him something super good, but you know I'm bad at gifts right? Yeah, I got you for Secret Santa last year and it sucked," you rambled as Lando nodded with a frown, recalling when you got him a replica of his helmet, like his own helmet, it would've been thoughtful if it wasn't, his helmet, "And I asked Jos and he was no help, so then I asked Oscar but I think.. I think I broke him."

Lando looked down at you blankly, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times, before finally, he took a deep breath, "Okay.." he dragged out, "Why don't you try anything racing-related?"

"That's what Jos suggested."

Lando jumped back in disgusted, "So let's not get him anything racing-related."

You nodded in agreement, "I was going to get him a new cat but that seems like a big commitment."

Lando hummed in agreement, "Especially because he just got one, what's its name? Donatello?"

"Mhmm."

"What if you don't get him a cat, but get him something for his cats." He rose up a brow.

Your face lit up before it slowly dimmed, "But isn't that like getting his cats something and not him something."

Lando shrugged, a small frown appearing on his face, "That's all I got."

You groaned throwing your head back, "No! Lando no!"

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "I'm sorry!"

You moved to his side, putting your head on his shoulder, "What'd you get Zhou?"

Lano beamed, "A pillow of his cat, Sweetcorn."

You gasped, an open-mouth smile on your face, Lando quickly cut in, "No you cannot use that idea!"

You faltered, looking up with a glare, "Have I told you how much I hate you?"

Lando looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "Many times, yes."

You grumble to yourself, slight smaking him on the shoulder before turning and walking away, onto the next and final person on your list.

.

You had lost Daniel Ricciardo's phone number. That was a big problem seeing as he was the last person on your 'quest to find Max the perfect gift' list.

You had gotten a phone two months prior, actually, Max got you a new phone, claiming that your old phone was 'deteriorating.'

During the process of switching phones, all of your contacts were deleted, a problem that was solved as you went around the track asking for all the phone numbers you could get, the problem was that Daniel was no longer at the track. You told yourself that you would get to it eventually, but you never did.

And now you were in this horrible situation, you had to somehow get Daniel's phone number from Max, without explaining why you needed it.

You could've gone to literally any of the other drivers, but they all seemed to be strangely avoiding you. (Little did you know Max had figured out the next part of your plan and told everyone to ‘hide’ from you so you had no choice but to go to him.)

He was sitting next to GP, pointing at something on the screen his mouth moving widely. You snuck up behind him, giving GP a look, hoping he would take the hint. Thankfully he did. He only took a couple seconds patting Max on his back and walking away.

Quickly you slid into his seat, shooting Max a smile.

His eyebrows shot up instantly, "You're done avoiding me?"

You laughed fakely, looking around the garage, "Me? Ignore you? What? Outrageous Max, just—outrageous."

The driver shot you a look, making you clear your throat awkwardly, "Do you have Daniel Riccarido's number?" Stupid question, of course, he had his number.

"I do." Max nodded simply, you winced you had hoped that he would just offer it on the spot, but of course is it really Max if he isn't difficult?

"Great!" you nodded enthusiastically, "..Can I have it?" you added quickly.

Max smiled to himself, turning his body toward you entirely, his head leaning on his palm, "Why do you want it?"

You faltered, swallowing thickly, "Why?" you stuttered, trying to think of a great excuse.

"Mhm. Why?"

You stared at him, "Because he's my friend. And—and I miss talking to him."

Max's smile got wider, "I got you a new phone two months ago, you haven't said anything about talking to Daniel?"

Shit. He was catching on. "I want to ask him out!" What?

You blinked, shocked at what had just come out of your mouth, Max on the other hand looked more amused than ever, "Oh?" he tilted his head, "Really? You and Daniel?"

You nodded painfully, "Yeah—yeah, um I've been thinking about it for a long time?...and this just seems like the right moment, ya know?"

Max was beaming ear to ear, "No, I don't know."

"Okay well, you don't need to get it. I just—I need his phone number please."

Wordless, Max handed you his phone, watching as you opened it and sent yourself Daniel's number, you hopped off the chair, giving him one last awkward smile, "See you later!"

Max watched you go with a fond smile, shaking his head. God he couldn't wait to see what you would get him for Secret Santa.

.

"I'm surprised to hear from you!" was one of the first things Daniel said when he picked up the phone. You were currently in the bathroom with five minutes to spare before ths race started.

"I lost your number!" you defended yourself, peeking under the stall to see if anyone had entered the bathroom, thankful nobody had, "I need your help."

"How may the wise Daniel Ricciardo help thee?"

You pulled a face, shaking your head, "What should I get Max for secret santa?"

"Easy. Get him something family-related."

You got a hear a pin drop. Easy. Something family-related, of course! Max loves his family!

"You are a fucking genius, Daniel."

"So I've been told." you could hear his smirk through the phone. Unfortunately, you didnt have time to hear him continue, "While I have you, how has your season been—“

"Sorry Daniel, can't talk, thanks for the insight! Oh and by the way, if Max or anyone asked I declared my love for you on this call and you very kindly rejected me? Okay? Okay!" before he could splutter out anything, you had already hung up.

.

Max stood in front of the camera crew, a smile on his face as he shook the small envelope, "So it's not a new cat?" he quipped.

The people behidn the camera laughed, the social media admin shrugged with a grin, "It still could be."

Max shook his head as he started to slowly and carefully open the envelope, "I don't think she could manage to fit a cat in here." nobody picked up on the 'she'

Max hummed as he peeked inside the envelope, "I see a note, should I read that first?" he looked at the admin, who shrugged.

"Okay.." he dragged out, pulling out the note, he cleared his throat as he started to read, "Happy Holidays Max! I hope you're reading this after you've opened the actual present..." Max paused, slowly turning up to the crew who were shaking in laughter, he shook his head deciding that it was too late to stop, "Getting you a present was very very, very difficult, but after some help, I was able to make my choice, I really do hope you enjoy the vacation with your mom and sister," he paused before continuing, "And don't worry about booking hotels or babysitters, I got it all done, Merry (early) Christmas Maxie, with love—your secret santa."

With a huge smile, Max placed the letter onto the table, before excitedly reaching into the envelopes, and pulling out three plane ticks, "Wow." he gasped, turning the tickets and showing them off to the camera, "It's three tickets to Greece for me, my mom and sister," he beamed, examining them further, "I've always wanted to go." he whispered to himself.

The camera crew smiled to themselves while the social media admin leaned in with her eyebrow raised, "Any idea who your secret santa was?"

Max nodded almost instantly, laughing slightly, "It's (yn) I recognize her writing."

The admin laughed, shaking her head, "That's cheating Max!"

Max shook his head, pointing at the woman, "It's not my fault I'm good at this!"

The admin waved him off, "Okay! Okay, you were right, it was her."

Max smirked, "I knew it," his eyes unfocused, wandering over to behind the group of people in front of them, curious they all trailed their eyes over to where he was staring, "I guessed right! You can come out now!" Max yelled out, the camera crew gasped as you peeked out of a thick pillar, hopping over to them with a smile.

"She was there the whole time?" the mic man whispered to the cameraman, who shrugged, mouth open in surprise.

"I don't know...but that's slightly scary."

You walked over to Max with a smile, letting out a small squeak as he pulled you into a tight hug unexpectedly, "You guessed so quickly" you groaned, feeling him press a kiss on your head.

"I found your list," Max whispered in your ear, laughing as he felt you tense up.

"Like the list?" you groaned, feeling embarrassment flood your system.

"The list," Max confirmed as you two pulled away.

You winced avoiding eye contact.

Max laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand, "Thank you. Really. I love the gift."

You smiled proudly, before turning to the admin who was watching the scene with a small smile, "I'm warning you right now that I am never doing secret santa gain."

The woman giggled, a cerstain gleam in her eye, "We'll see about that."

.

a/n: truly impressed with the writers who write 4k words and UP fics, this one is 3.4k and it took me well over two weeks to write (which is why its being uploaded after christmas) anywhoo i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Cub

"We could get her another cat?"

"We're not getting her another cat!"

It's strangely difficult to find ideas for Christmas presents to give a little girl that's only obsessed with cats, the washing machine and baking.

Your mothers can't exactly buy you your own washing machine or an electric mixer or, god forbid, another massive cat for you to carry around and insist isn't fat, isn't a complete monster or isn't the absolutely worst enemy of your mothers.

One of those worst enemies, your incredibly fat tabby Garfield, sits on the kitchen counter attempting to bat open a box of cereal to feed his never ending hunger.

Mapi and Ingrid ignore him, knowing that sooner or later this burst of energy will leave and he will amble off to a sunspot so he can nap away the rest of the day.

"Mami!" A call comes from your bedroom. "I'm stuck again!"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "Just a minute, cub! I'm coming!" She turns back to Ingrid. "Definitely a no to the cat?"

Ingrid sighs. "No more cats."

"Just trying to make it easier on us!"

"Go and help our kid put on her t-shirt. I've got this."

But Ingrid very much doesn't have this. It shouldn't be this difficult to find a Christmas present for you but you're such a content kid. You've already got toys and the tv and the washing machine and the cats.

There's not really much else you want or need.

You're no help either, of course, because when Ingrid asks, you just reply with a simple:

"Er...I can get more time in yours and Mami's bed?"

So, it was very clear that you didn't quite know what you wanted for Christmas either apart from, clearly, curling up in Mapi and Ingrid's bed with them and probably kicking Mapi in her sleep.

Ingrid spends weeks stewing over what she and Mapi could get you. They'd gotten you a few throw away things like a new yellow digger after your last one fall off the balcony and smashed into the pavement below and a cute little necklace that doubled as identification with things like your name and had Mapi and Ingrid's numbers on them in case you ever went missing in a crowded area.

In the end, it's Frido that comes to her and Mapi's rescue, throwing out an idea at random during lunch when Aitana takes you up to the buffet to find some chicken.

It's a throwaway comment but with Mapi and Ingrid struggling to work out what else they could get you, they cling to it like a lifeline. They're fairly easy presents to source, something that Ingrid is glad for because she's cutting it abnormally close to Christmas day to get everything sorted.

"Mami..."

There's a crackle on the monitor that has Mapi stirring awake.

"Maaaami."

Mapi counts to ten in her mind before rolling out of bed, kissing a still sleeping Ingrid on the cheek and making her way out to your room.

"Merry Christmas, cub," She says as she pushes open your bedroom door," I see you've got company."

All of the cats seem to have migrated to your bed overnight.

Garfield, as usual, is laying on his back after (presumably) being used as a stuff animal for most of the night. Bagheera sits by your feet, grooming herself primly while the monstrous León-León stands nearby, tail flicking from side to side as he stares.

"We had Christmas cuddles," You say happily," And now we have the gingerbread?"

"We'll have to wait. Mama is still asleep."

"Why?"

"Huh? Why is Mama still asleep? She's tired."

"But why?"

"Because she was busy making sure everything was good for today."

"But why?"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "You know what, let's go eat that gingerbread. Then we'll go and get your Mama."

You wiggle happily all the way to the kitchen, where Mapi lifts you up onto the counter so you can have a breakfast of the gingerbread you and Ingrid made last night and so Mapi can stop you from running into their room before Ingrid is awake enough to function.

The cats come running in as soon as they hear the rattling of their dishes - though Garfield kind of lumbers in, far behind León-León and Bagheera but still manages to steal most of the food.

Mapi does a pretty good job of stopping you going for the presents until Ingrid finally gets up, a nice warm mug of coffee waiting for her and an overly excited child trying to shove some gingerbread into her mouth.

"Tha-Thanks, Cub," Ingrid laughs as she pushes away one of your sticky little hands from where it's trying to shove biscuit into her mouth," But I'm fine with my coffee."

"It's good," You say through your own full mouth and Ingrid laughs.

"I know because it was made by us, with lots of love." Ingrid kisses the tip of your nose. "But really you should eat it all yourself."

"Really?"

"Really-really," Ingrid insists and you giggle, kicking your feet happily as you finally settle on her lap, sprinkling gingerbread crumbs everywhere as you move.

Garfield, as he always does whenever there's food to spare, comes ambling over to eat them all up.

Usually, Ingrid would scold him but Mapi's coming over with presents and she decides that even the cats can get away with things they usually wouldn't today.

"Are you ready for presents?" Ingrid asks, bouncing her knee so you burst into a round of giggles.

"Presents!"

Mapi and Ingrid exchange triumphant looks as you tear open your presents.

Your new ID necklace is placed snugly around your neck immediately, ready for in case you get lost during the walk your mothers have planned later that day.

You take great delight in placing your new yellow digger with all of your other construction toys in the corner of the room next to your little wooden set of tools.

"Mama! Mami! It's CAT!"

It's truly a surprise how many CAT themed things the club has managed to make in such a short amount of time. It's even more surprising just how much stuff they can buy for so cheap a price with their team member discounts.

But, perhaps the most surprising of all is how much the club was willing to just straight up give to them in return for just a few pictures of you with CAT the mascot.

It's not shocking to the staff and fans alike who the biggest CAT fan is and, while you do regularly appear on Mapi and Ingrid's Instagrams, it's a rarer feat to see you featured on the team's.

But, with just three pictures of you with CAT and a very cute video of you nearly taking the mascot of their feet in an attempt to hug them, Mapi and Ingrid received a bundle of CAT merch in return.

"It is CAT," Mapi laughs," It's a t-shirt with CAT on it!"

"And a keyring! And a new mug!" Ingrid continues as you rip open your presents, getting more and more excited the more CAT things you see.

"CAT's my second best friend," You tell Mapi and Ingrid earnestly in the next hour as you all take a nice walk together through the park.

"Oh, yeah?" Mapi says," And who's your best friend?"

"You and Mama," You reply.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos," That's so swe-"

"And Bagheera and Garfield and León-León."

Mapi laughs. "There it is."

[defmaybe]

Sparks

12 Days of Christmas: Day 3, December 27th, 2024

tripleS’ Kim Yooyeon x Male Reader

4.2k words

Christmas Masterlist

A/N: Some gaming reference.

—

You couldn’t care less about Kim Yooyeon.

But she won’t seem to let you out of her sight.

—

It’s Christmas Eve. Taylor Swift’s Sparks Fly blares around the house. A bunch of drunk college students are surrounding you, as you’re playing Balatro on your phone, trying to beat the gold stake, the top one. A cup of beer sits by your side.

Your friends are out there trying to win a woman’s heart with their charms, with the help of alcohol and such. You couldn’t care less. You already have video games as your companion. It’s always like this: you’re always on your phone at social gatherings, talking to nobody.

What’s the damn point of coming here, then?

“Hey.”

A voice shakes you. You look up from your phone to find Kim Yooyeon in her Christmas costume—a strapless red and white dress. She looks good, but that’s not enough to pull you out of this damn fun card game.

“Hey, Yooyeon,” you greet her, before going back to hitting another flush on your phone. What is she even doing here?

“How are you?” She takes a seat beside you, one leg on top of the other. It’s revealing, but you’re not giving to it.

With eyes still focused on your phone, you answer her, “I’m good, thanks.”

You hear her sigh, and you realize that you forgot to ask her back. How rude of you!

“How are you, Yooyeon?” you ask her without pouring much care into it. She lets out a short exhale, amused by your nonchalance.

“Pretty good. Just finished my finals this afternoon,” she replies, leaning closer towards you to see what you’re playing. You can see that her dress is slightly revealing. “Ooh, Balatro~”

You let out a chuckle. What’s the possibility of someone like her playing the same game as you?

“Yeah, you play it?” you say, eyes still focusing on the screen.

“From time to time, yeah,” she answers. Her voice is calm, unfazed by the loud music.

You have never gotten the appeal of Kim Yooyeon to the other people around you. Not that you don’t appreciate her, it’s just that you couldn’t care less about this woman. She’s an activity student, taking part in the school band and playing football. She’s damn good as a left winger, according to the other guys. Her duty is cutting inside and scoring or–what’s the word?

Assisting.

You’ve never watched a single game.

You, on the other hand, are a full-time gamer. You stay in your room almost all the time, immersing yourself in the gaming world. You’ve played it all: Elden Ring, Slay the Spire, both parts of The Last of Us, and now Balatro. Talking to people just isn’t your thing.

“Have fun,” she finally says, noticing the gap between you and her, and she walks away into the party, enjoying the music again.

“See ya.” Your eyes didn’t even leave the screen when you said it.

—

The night rolls on. You’re frustrated at the game. You’ve died in the fourth ante for the third time in a row. Fuck! You reached the seventh ante once earlier in the night!

“Bad luck?”

Yooyeon comes back to you. You swear she looks different from an hour ago. She looks… prettier. Maybe it’s the effect of those damn alcohols. You can’t sway for now.

“Y–Yeah,”

Yooyeon then sits down on the chair beside you, one leg over the other. The view’s inviting “Wanna turn off the game and walk around?”

You shoot her a small, polite smile. “Thanks, but I’d rather be here, really.”

“It’d be fun,” Yooyeon persuades. “Might be better than keeping losing to the gold stake.”

She won’t let up, won’t she?

You let out a sigh. “I’ll go out when I’m ready, Yooyeon.”

Yooyeon chuckles. “Come see me when you’re ready~”

And you start a new run, so damn determined to beat this stake.

—

Your efforts prove fruitless, as you’re getting wrecked by the bullshit boss blinds again and again. Your builds just keep getting wrecked by these fucking bosses.

“Fuck.”

New run, new run, new run.

You hear a small giggle from the back. It’s Yooyeon, again.

“Ready to head out?” asks Yooyeon, thumb pointing towards the partygoers hollering behind her.

You groan in displeasure, frustrated by your defeat. You finally have to accept her invitation.

“Sure.”

You get up from your chair despondently. “Lead the way, Miss Kim.”

She lets out a childish giggle. “Alright, we’ll go to the kitchen. I have something for you~”

What could it be?

Yooyeon then leads you to the kitchen, sauntering. Her hips are swaying seductively. Her red and white Christmas costume is hugging her curves a little too well, and you wish you could just tear it off and start eating–

Where did that come from? Control yourself!

You walk through the murmuring crowd. Some of them are whispering to each other. They’re probably wondering what could’ve a star winger been doing with a nobody like you. You’re a bit tense by the onlookers. But with Yooyeon in front of you, it feels–weirdly calming.

You two finally reach the kitchen. She opens the fridge door, bending down to grab an egg. Her meaty thighs are all there for you to see. Her butt makes a slight contact with your crotch gently. Your breath hitches a little, but you can’t let her know she affects you.

Against the counter, she breaks the egg. She drizzles the white part of it out into the sink, leaving the yolk intact. It hasn’t broken yet.

What is she going to do with it?

She then chugs the yolk into her mouth. Your breath hitches slightly. Does every athlete have this crazy diet?

She turns back towards you. The yolk is still inside her mouth. She’s walking to you, swaying her hips, balancing the yellow blob with her tongue. Fuck, what an image.

“Y–Yooyeo–”

She grabs onto your face with both of her hands, pulling your face closer to hers, pressing you down, making your knees bent. You get a scent of her intoxicating perfume. She smells so good. Her thumbs push your mouth open, before she passes the yellow yolk into your mouth, intact. Your heartbeat speeds up. Your breathing quickens. Your hands tremble. You are everything but sure of what is happening.

Fuck.

You stare nervously into Yooyeon’s eyes, who seem satisfied with her result, making you a shaking mess with a yolk inside your mouth. She’s smirking. She’s rejoicing in this. Her hands are still gripping on your face tightly.

The yellow substance rests on your tongue idly. It tastes so fucking weird, but you can’t just spit it out so damn easily. You’re trying your best not to break it, but it’s fucking hard when you’re a shaking mess like this. You stutter out moans and moans with it inside.

You slowly stand up straight, slightly towering over her again. Although, with the smirk she’s having on her face, and the grip she has on your face, she’s holding the upper hand here.

She then opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue slightly, signaling you to pass the yolk back into her cavern. You close your eyes as you do so, letting out a shaky hum. It drifts from your mouth to hers. The earthy taste of it lingers—raw, pungent.

Yooyeon lets out a giggle with the golden blob in her mouth. It’s opening slightly. Her right hand lands on your back, forming an embrace, drawing stuttered whimpers out of you.

You’re lost in the sensation of her touches. Her left hand caresses your cheeks, even plunging her salty thumb into your mouth. You suck on her finger like some common whore. Her right hand travels under your belt. She’s grabbing your bulge softly. It feels so good.

Again, she then forces your mouth open with her fingers, before carefully lodging the yolk into your mouth. You try to receive it gently. You’re doing your best not to break it, but it’s hard when you’re under Yooyeon’s spell like this.

She plays with the tent in your pants eagerly, doing her best to make you lose control. She smiles wickedly before unzipping your pants, giving her a hole to play with your boxers. God, you feel like a toy for her, and that feels utterly divine.

You can feel that it’s starting to grow runny within your mouth. It’s going to break, but you can’t just let it happen! Yooyeon, please open your gorgeous mouth!

Like a saving grace, Yooyeon parts her lips slightly again. Shaken, you pass the amber blob back into her cavern. She accepts it with a hum, still caressing your caged cock eagerly. She lets out a satisfied hum in response to the yolk within her mouth.

You watch as the golden yolk rests on her tongue. The image is nothing short of outlandishly vulgar—every twist of her tongue, every squeeze of her hand. She’s so good at this.

She decides to toy with you a little more, inserting her slender fingers into your mouth. You accept them gleefully, so fucking ready to suck on her fingers like a bitch. You feel so good, so joyful, being her little man-whore like this. You’re so ready to be used by her like a personal fucktoy.

Her right hand digs under your boxers. She’s grabbing your cock now! And she’s fondling your balls like she owns it (she owns it). Her dexterous fingers are making you want to moan like a bitch. You let out an uncontained whimper at her touch into her fingers, looking weakly into her eyes. She has all the power over you now, and you can do nothing about it but to let her use you.

Again, she pries your mouth open with her fingers, opening hers along with yours. The yolk becomes visible again. Your turn.

She deliberately tilts her head down as you lower your knees to level yourself. The golden blob rests on her lips before it slides into your mouth.

A soft cry leaves you as the egg finds its place on your tongue. The sensation is unreal—the pungent taste of the amber ball, her fondling on your cock. You can cum right here and now, coating her right hand with your white, viscous nectar.

You slowly straighten yourself, towering over her once again. The power she’s holding over you remains. Both you and her know that she’s in control here. Her eyes bore straight into yours, making your legs shaking with anxiety. 

There’s a hint of strawberries on her lips. She’s barely touching you on the mouth. Her breathing stays steady, as if she’s not at all affected by this. Her right hand is still squeezing your testicles in a consistent rhythm, enough to keep you stay obedient under her.

The egg enters your welcoming mouth. It feels so fragile inside you, and you’re struggling to control it. You feel weak. You panic. Your body trembles in anxiety. Is it going to–

The yolk breaks.

It explodes inside your mouth. Yellow liquid leaks out of its thin shell. The earthy, pungent taste fills your mouth, and you hear Yooyeon giggle, still groping your cock. Your eyes flutter at the overwhelming sensation. It feels so–full. Your head falls backwards, and the yolk leaks out of your parted lips, leaving a yellow trail in its wake on your face, on your shirt, and on your pants.

“Slut.”

—

The baby blue bedroom is barely lit. There’s a Bringing Out the Dead poster on the wall to your right. The owner probably likes Scorsese, you guess. There are Carly Rae Jepsen vinyls displayed on the shelf on your left—Emotion, Dedication, The Loneliest Time. God, the owner has some taste! The room smells of spring. It was taken care of well.

You lie on the soft bed, pliant, as Yooyeon presses you down with her entire body weight strongly, kissing you. Her legs are straddling your thighs, capturing you in place. You have no escape, but it’s like you’d do a thing right now. Yooyeon captures your lips in a fervent kiss. Her tongue pierces into your mouth hungrily, letting out a content hum as she does so. The taste of the yolk and alcohol still lingers in her breath.

Her hands find themselves on your face, holding you in place for the kiss. Her hips grind on your crotch in an erratic rhythm, and that makes you moan. She feels so damn good on your cock. You’re struggling to thrust up towards her still-clothed cunt. You feel so restrained like this.

She then pulls back, panting, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips for a split second before it is torn off by the distance. Her hands move down to your flat chest.

“Nasty little slut,” Yooyeon sneers.

You let out a submissive whimper at the demeaning name. This feels great–her hands on your chest, her heat on your crotch, her vulgar words piercing your ear.

“Playing so damn hard to get, aren’t you?” Yooyeon continues. Her grinding grows harsher, making you stutter out whimpers. “Tell me I didn’t get this abs just for you to ignore me in the hallways.”

Her garment is pulled up, showing her firm muscles underneath. Your mouth opens wide in awe. She looks damn delicious. Jokes on you for not looking at her midriff when she wears those alluring crop-tops. You reach out to touch her, feeling the contour of her abs. She groans in satisfaction.

“Fucking whore.” Yooyeon laughs wickedly. Her head falls backward in ecstasy as she ups the ante on your crotch. Your body writhes in unbridled pleasure.

“Oh, I haven’t finished The Last of Us. I’m stuck at Radahn. I’m close to winning Ascension Twenty,” she mocks you. Her assaults on you are violent. You whimper again. What a slut.

“And now you’re touching my abs like some whore,” she scoffs. Her words are searing through you, but your arousal only heightens with the demeaning words. Her breathing seems to quicken with your touch.

Your mind can’t register anything around you anymore, so lost in the haze of her conquest and her degrading words over your body. You’re so lost that you don’t notice her hands unbuttoning your shirt, slowly revealing your out-of-shape body—should’ve hit the gym more often.

In a quick motion, she continues stripping off your body. She pulls your pants down to your ankles as she scoots slightly backwards on the bed. Your erection is visible under the boxers.

“Haven’t been using him a lot, have you?” she asks with an evil grin, fondling your cock gently.

“I–I’ve–ngh–had sex b–before, Yooyeon,” you stammer.

“Slut.” 

She then slips your boxers down. Your cock springs free from its fabric cage. Her eyes sparkle with wonder. She loves your cock, and she just can’t wait to impale herself with it.

Hastily, she takes off her gorgeous red-and-white top. What a waste. She looks so pretty in it, but that thought is immediately replaced by the view of her toned body. You stare at her in awe. Her pert breasts are on full display, brown nipples already erect, just for you to–

“Mmm, suck on my tits like that, bitch.” Her words spur you on. You keep tasting her nipples like your life depends on it. You keep alternating your mouth between both sides, kneading the other with your free hand. Her aroma is an aphrodisiac to you—pungent, raw—and that only makes you grow more ferocious under her.

Feeling fulfilled with your sucking, Yooyeon pushes you onto the bed with a thud upon landing. You groan in the absence of her breasts inside your mouth.

“This is the part where you’ll be fucking my cunt,” Yooyeon orders, as she stands up on the bed, taking her panties off. The sight is nothing short of perfectly depraved. Her frame looks even more appetizing towering over you, but sadly (or not), you’re not the one in control here.

Her undergarment comes off easily, and now she’s holding it. She’s looking at it, contemplating, before a light bulb in her head is switched on.

“You want this?” she asks, lowering her panties close to your nose. You can smell the raw aroma of her cunt. It’s so hypnotic.

You nod sheepishly, and she grins wickedly before pressing the cloth onto your nose. Your air becomes the bewitching scent of her pussy. Your inhales grow deeper, wanting to take in all of her smell. She’s musky. She’s tart. She’s making your brain go haywire.

You hear her laugh mischievously. Her eyes are darkened with pure desire. You couldn’t have asked for a better situation to be in right now.

“Keep it on your nose while I ride this cock,” Yooyeon orders sternly. You nod, her panties still on your face.

She then slowly lowers herself. You feel her wet heat hovering above your throbbing manhood. Her red and white skirt covers the nice view, but you’d argue that it’s hotter this way, with her panties on your nose also and all. Your breathing grows even more erratic. So does hers. Her hands find purchase on your chest, almost drawing blood from you. It hurts, but you couldn’t give less fuck about it.

The first contact between your cock and her cunt makes you two form a cacophony with your moans. She welcomes you with such tightness that makes your eyes flutter in ecstasy, while your size stretches her cunt out so wide that she moans.

“Goddamn–shit! You’re so fucking big!” she shouts, eyes looking into the ceiling. Someone is going to hear that, even with these thick walls.

She goes even deeper on your cock. You two groan in pure bliss as she impales her cunt with you. Pleasure shocks through you like electricity. The sensation that’s hugging around your cock is just so unreal. Her eyes point towards the ceiling. She’s really enjoying this.

“You feel so much better than my dildo, holy fuck!” Her words only serve to heighten your arousal, making your body quiver even more, as she sinks down on your cock. She’s going to reach the hilt.

And you feel it, her warm ass touching your balls. She’s at the hilt. You’re fully inside her. Her eyes flutter. Her body spasms. Her moans stutter.

“F–F–Fuck, goddd,” cries Yooyeon. She’s loving your cock. She stays there, savoring every second of your cock inside her entrance. She’s sitting on your lap.

“Y–You know, I’ve been waiting on this day for so f–fucking long,” she says, still gripping on your chest tightly. Her face flushes. “I’ve been doing a lot to make you look, you know?”

“Well, I’m look–”

Yooyeon cuts your train of words with a finger inside your mouth, silencing you. You know what to do: sucking on it like a whore. 

“Should’ve known that all it takes for you is an egg.” She lets out a chuckle. “Slut.”

You say nothing, just smiling with joy, not resisting her finger inside your mouth. The sensation pooling in your crotch is burning.

She slowly lifts herself off your cock, the feeling tells, despite her short skirt covering the act. Her breathing grows erratic, and so does yours. You and her cry out in pleasure, eyes fluttering. It feels so good.

And she impales her cunt again. The two of you groan deeply in pleasure. Her thighs ripple against yours.

“Mmm, yesss,” Yooyeon moans.

She finds her rhythm, lifting off of you, slamming her hips back down, and repeats. Your whole body feels electric, welcomed by her tight, wet cunt that grips your cock like a vice. The feeling of the friction on your length is nothing short of ecstatic. Her panties fall off from your face to the side. Her aroma is gone, but you won’t complain.

“You goddamn slut. You love my pussy, don’t you?” Yooyeon scoffs, wrapping her hands on your throat. You can barely breathe, and it’s driving you insane. She grins, and that looks so fucking frightening, but also–hot, somehow. “Bet I’m so fucking wet and tight, gripping your cock so good.”

You can only nod sheepishly to her questions, before she tightens her grip around your throat even harsher. You can’t breathe. You’re making gagging sounds. You’re so damn happy. It’s so goddamn pleasurable.

“Better breed me to make up for that time lost, understand?” she orders, and you just nod along with her words again.

She lifts her hands off your throat. It’s nice to finally get some air again. She picks up her pace on your cock. It becomes reckless now. You’re letting out guttural groans and whimpers, and she’s rejoicing in your pleasure.

Her motions become turbulent. Your cock is now sore from all the riding she’s doing. Still, you’re more than happy to let her use you like this. You’re more than happy to let her own your little ass.

She sucks a sudden, before uttering, “G–Gonna cum.”

“M–Me t–too, nghhnn.”

“Don’t you dare fucking cum before me, alright? I don’t want your cock to go soft before I squirt on this–” she then wanders her hand over your willing body, feeling every single curve and contour she can find, making you whimper “–little body of yours.”

Yooyeon giggles, before ramping up her pace. She plunges her fingers into your welcoming mouth once more, and you’re sucking them like a whore. She lets out grunts and groans, bouncing on your cock. The friction on your cock is just too pleasant. Then, there’s the smell of her body, now slick with sweat. You’re too happy to take it in. She’s pungent. Your eyes are fluttering from the overwhelming sensation.

She lets out a fair bunch of profanities, mostly calling you a slut (which you’d happily admit you are). Then, there come the signals. Her body spasms. Her walls contract. You can just feel it.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.”

“Wh–Wha–”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

She arches backwards, showing off her toned abs. A torrent of liquid sprays out of her cunt onto your stomach. Her body writhes on top of you before collapsing into your embrace. Her loud, aggressive groans fill your ear.

“Wh–What a good f–fucking cock,” she mutters with any of the energy she has left. Exhaustion catches her, but you can’t stop now. It’s your turn.

With your remaining stamina, you thrust up into her sensitive cunt. Both of your moans form a cacophony that fills the room, along with the sound of flesh slapping into each other.

“Goddd~” Yooyeon groans. You’re hammering into her with reckless abandon. Her body vibrates with each of your thrust. “I’m not letting you cum outside, slut. I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

She then inserts her fingers into your mouth again, to which you’re happy to suck on them like you’re her slut (you’re her slut). Your hips are still pumping your cock into her.

And it comes, the impending doom, the storm. The familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside Yooyeon!

“G–Gonna cum.”

“C–Cum inside me, cum inside me,” she orders, eyes staring into yours. She wants this. She needs this.

And you break. Your whole body quivers. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum into her pussy. It twitches and twitches within her. Yooyeon bends forward to capture you in a deep kiss, piercing her dexterous tongue into your mouth. Her hands grip onto the sides of your face tightly. The lewd sound of the kiss fills your ear. Fuck, this feels so good.

The orgasm slowly dies down, though still leaving a lasting effect on your cock that’s twitching inside of her. Yooyeon pulls back from the kiss, finally. A string of saliva connecting your lips can be seen. She pants, looking up at the ceiling. Sweat runs down her face. She looks so ethereal in the afterglow.

“Fuck,” she utters, unable to catch her breath. Her breathing is still out of rhythm.

You can only smile, watching her almost naked on top of you like this. It’s a sight.

Yooyeon then collapses down against your body. Her skin is slicked from all the sweat from the fucking. You can feel her fast heartbeat on your chest. Your cock is still buried deep inside of her.

She then drags herself off of your now-flaccid cock. You groan at the sensitivity you’re feeling. She only giggles at you in response.

“Let me go to the bathroom first, and maybe, maybe, we can go for another round,” she says, before getting off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. She strips out of her short skirt on the way, finally giving you the view of her plump ass you’ve been craving.

It’s going to be a long night.

—

[evieelyzabethh]

"chateu"

⭒is it a dream or is it all in the past, i just thought i'd ask"⭒ Arcane characters and comfort {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, mentions of period sex, a bunch of fluff, that's about it

♞Vi♞

♞Vi's comfort is both physical and verbal. Vi is constantly in awe of you, she can't fathom the idea of you thinking you're less than, too dumb, not pretty enough, not worthy enough. She is also very aware. She's a watcher and a listener. She is very good at getting to the root of the rot, she knows that it's not just this one occurrence, it's a reaction caused by something deeper within you. I feel like Vi is much more emotionally intelligent than a lot of people give her credit for, it's just not knowing how to carry it out.

♞I feel like sometimes, she wouldn't get frustrated, but it would take a bit of a toll on her when you aren't as perceptive as she is. Sometimes it takes a lot of walking through the process to get you to understand what she's telling you. She is more than willing and does praise you until she's blue in the face, but she realizes that sometimes words from an outside source can't fix anything if you don't believe it yourself.

♞This applies to larger problems, but Vi would also be good on occasions if you were simply having a bad day. As someone who's had a bad life, she knows how you feel. You want to be left alone for a bit? She completely understands. You just want a hug? She is there with open arms and immediately chides you the second you try to apologize for getting snot on her jacket.

♞Speaking of which, Vi hugs are one of the most comforting hugs you can ever receive. She's just so warm and big and you are completely surrounded by her as she cradles your head into your chest and hums in your ear. She just has such a calming voice; her presence itself is comforting. I also think she would shed a few tears herself when comforting you. It heals the part of her that couldn't save Powder. She holds a lot of guilt about that, so much so that her comfort to you feels rehearsed, like she's been repeating those reassurances for years.

♞As much as you need comforting, Vi would need her fair share too. She never let go of that big sister/leader persona, she thinks her problems are too small compared to the world around her. She tries to fix her problems with logic to push down her feelings and most definitely is someone who thinks that letting those big feelings out is unproductive. This being said, you don't get a chance to comfort Vi until it becomes too much for even her to handle and she randomly breaks down.

♞Comfort is very foreign to her. The last time she received it consistently and healthily was from Vander and then her life went to shit, and she was thrown in prison for like a decade. Stillwater is not a nurturing environment, Zaun certainly wasn't either, even the comfort she received from Vander was more akin to tough love rather than something softer. She can be soft with you, but she finds it hard to accept it herself. It's a battle for her to just be in your arms and allow you to tell her its ok. She knows it'll be okay because she's gonna fight like hell to make sure it's ok. She hates feeling out of control. She's not used to someone trying to fix things for her; she's not used to someone being there for her.

♞She has a lot of tears to get out. Vi has built high walls of anger, but below that is a chasm of sorrow. When she finally breaks down, it feels like an endless stream of tears until she physically cannot cry anymore and is forced to heave in your arms until she either falls asleep or sits in silence, empty. It's very overwhelming, but she can't deny that when she can catch her breath, she feels brand new.

★Ekko★

★Ekko may not be a doctor, but he's a chef which makes the experience more than bearable. The second he sees your complexion get sickly, your wincing every time you move, and your coughs getting more and more phlegmy, he is immediately freaking out. He's running to get a thermometer, he's rifling through the medicine cabinet for whatever the canon equivalent of NyQuil is, he has a trash can set by the bedside in case you begin to feel nauseous.

★Despite his preparedness, I don't think Ekko is great at being sick or being around the sick. It feels like an utter waste of time, waiting around in the house for the illness to pass. Sickness is one of those issues you can't be active in fighting, the best action is to rest and sweat it out, and he is so antsy. It's a lot better if you're sick, you can't lie to him and try to pretend you're well when you aren't. Even if you try and fight him on it, you don't make it very far. Your achy joints keep you up at night, making you completely exhausted throughout the day. Your headache is so debilitating you have spots in your vision. Your throat is so sore, it physically pains you to argue with him about how you're totally not sick and he's being a complete mother hen.

★No; no matter how hard you protest, you are absolutely bed bound as Ekko works warm soup down your gullet even when you can't stomach it yourself but the rational part of you knows it'll make you feel better. The warm green tea he brings you has some tonic dissolved into it; the medicinal taste covered by a few tablespoons of sugar to avoid the bitter bite. He doesn't even flinch when you cough or sneeze into yet another tissue which is soon to be added to the growing pile in the trash. He only wraps you tighter, so you sweat out your fever faster while softly rubbing your aching shoulders. The thought of getting sick does cross his mind, but he's more preoccupied with his poor girl.

★A surprise to no one, Ekko gets sick right after you do, though he is far less compliant. He knows that you see right through his bullshit excuses. Babe, I don't have a fever, I always run hot. What do you mean I have a bad cough? I've just been clearing my throat. I don't get sick; I have too good of an immune system. I never been sick a day in my life. Even worse, he truly believes it himself. In truth, Ekko isn't someone who gets sick often, it's usually one bad bug every year or so. When he does get sick, it usually lasts a few weeks, the first being very mild and then eventually whittling him down to a bed-bound state.

★His bug only worsens the annoyance he feels when sick, you're almost glad when he loses the energy to argue back when you tell him to lie down. When Ekko's sick, it feels more like date nights than a hospital trip. Ekko can't stand silence or boredom which means a movie is playing for as long as he's bed bound. Aside from his mucous infested coughs, his constant shuddering through multiple layers of blankets, and a bowl of soup instead of popcorn; you could barely tell that this wasn't a movie date.

★If there is one thing Ekko enjoys about being sick, it's being taken care of. After he swallows his pride and that disgusting cough medicine, he can appreciate being doted on. Even though he's sick, he'll use a fake yawn as an excuse to wrap his arm around you and ask do you come 'round here often? His joking attitude is usually a good sign that his weeks in hell have finally passed and the light at the end of the tunnel (post sickness kisses) are finally on the table.

❂Jayce ❂

❂Someone once made a joke that Jayce would be the type to make a post on twitter like "I just found out about how bad period pain is. Can't believe our beautiful women go through that every month. If only I could go through periods for them, so they no longer have to suffer (I'm 6'7 btw)" and, well...yes! On a more serious note, I don't think he'd be the type to be super on top of it. He's too busy to have something like a calendar tracking it, though when the time comes, he's very quick to act. While he may be unprepared, he's not incompetent.

❂As soon as you tell him you started, he switches the light bed sheets to darker ones. All he needs is a list of your needs, your preference on pads or tampons or menstrual cups, if you wear them, what size pad you need, heating pads, pain meds, anything and everything you may need is currently being bought. He also isn't the type to be ashamed to go to the register with it, he truly does not think it's a big deal and is confused at any sort of weird stares he gets.

❂He is also over cautious. The second you look like a little woozy, he's right by your side asking if you need to sit down. He's standing around the bathroom while you shower genuinely scared you might pass out due to the amount of blood loss. I don't think he's squeamish around blood, but I do think he'd constantly worry that it's too much. Like how are you still alive after bleeding that much for like a week straight 12 times a year?! He thinks the female body is a scientific wonder.

❂He's also great when it comes to the emotional component. The second your hormones get out of whack, and you start to think too hard about your bloating or ragged you look or how weak you feel, he's right there with a large warm hand on your tummy telling you that you are being ridiculous. His very scientific brain comes in handy, something about his calming voice telling you exactly what your body is doing sounds enough like a documentary to put you to sleep.

❂If you work in the lab with him, he offers to let you skip work for the week, being completely surprised if you insist on still coming in. He does his best to accommodate you, going the extra mile to pack your lunch and making you sure you eat it, ensuring that you're staying on top of your water, he brings pain killers with him in case your cramps get too bad. You and Viktor roll your eyes a bit at his antics. You try to assure him you've had a period for years at this point and it's really not that big of a deal, but he insists on it anyway. All he knows is that you're in pain and he doesn't like that.

❂Now, pre-apocalypse Jayce does not do period sex. You're already hurting, and he while he read that sex can help with cramps, he also knows you're super sensitive and that stretch is going to hurt even worse. If you asked, he'd oblige, making sure to be extra soft and gentle, only pushing half-way in as he coos and brushes the hot tears from your eyes. Post-apocalypse Jayce is far less careful. I wouldn't say he doesn't care, but he understands the concept of a little bit of pain for a lot of pleasure. He's still sweet, carefully covering your sheets with layers of towels and folding a couple under your hips, but his strokes could convince you he's trying to fuck your period away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel better after, though.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is not one to beat around the bush at all; he never even liked the man to begin with. It started with something small, like the lack of effort he put into dates or forgetting your birthday, and ever since then things just snowballed until every offense was break-up worthy to him. He didn't hold the door open? Break up with him. He was a bit too flirty with the waitress when you went out to eat? Break up with him! You caught him talking to his ex? BREAK UP WITH HIM!

☽Before the breakup, he is not soft about it at all. The first few gossip sessions were all fun and games but the more you talked about him, the more his dislike grows until he hates the guy and he's only physically seen him a couple times. He refuses to even be in the same room as the man, he says it's because the mere thought of him literally makes him sick and he's sure seeing his actual face will genuinely kill him.

☽He doesn't know what you see in him, and neither do you after the fact. Hindsight really is 20/20. Viktor truly isn't that great with comfort until he sees how seriously upset you are. You're crying over a tub of ice cream with a rom com playing in the background as you blubber about how all of your relationships fall apart and you just don't know where you went wrong, and he's truly confounded on how you're this upset over a toad.

☽This all being said, he's very supportive. It's a lot of work to swallow his sarcastic remarks and roll his eyes less, but the sincerity of his comfort is very easy. It's not instinctual for him to sit there while you cry in his arms, but the kind words he murmurs, you deserve better than that, you deserve a love greater than you even ask for, you deserve even more than the world, you deserve the better world he wants to create. And he doesn't want to sound smarmy or jealous, like some loser who was waiting in the wings for the breakup even Jayce saw coming from a mile away, but if he cared less about what you thought of him; he'd say you deserve him.

☽He realizes it's much too soon, so he buys you ice cream and tells you that you look pretty even when your mascara is running, and your hair is in a state of disarray, and he genuinely means it. He's most valuable for his honesty, it's why you came to Viktor in the first place. He was always honest about how he felt about your ex, even when he was holding his tongue, his expression said all the words he was too nice to say. So, when he tells you that yes, you're still pretty, he may be holding back.

☽It helps that he's funny and can be a tad impulsive. You want to slash his tires? Only slash 3 so that his insurance doesn't cover it. You wanna burn his clothes? He'll make you a pocket flamethrower just to do so. Even better than being open to violence and destruction, he's great at not getting caught. Though he doesn't believe in lying to you, dishonesty drips from his lips like honey.

☽When the crying and the disappointment fades and you feel good enough to joke about how you wasted too much of your time on a man outrunning wisdom, Viktor does slowly try to show you exactly what you deserve.

☼Mel☼

☼While Mel knows the importance of the exterior, she thinks its utterly ridiculous that you can think you aren't pretty enough. She knows insecurities are hard. 'The grass is greener on the other side' really isn't the comfort most people think it is. Sometimes it's well worth it to face the consequences of achieving what you've wanted. Whatever it is, acne, being flat chested, noticeable scars, being different is just hard. It doesn't matter how much your differences make you unique, it really is easier to be like everyone else.

☼She tells you every chance she gets how beautiful she thinks you are. To pretend that inside beauty is all that matters is simply a lie, she interacts daily with people whose heads are full of air, but people only respect them because they are a pretty face with full pockets. She knows it sounds untrue to you, but that's why she tells you so often. Not in despite of anything, not because of anything, you're just stunning.

☼Since you're already hyper-focused on your insecurity, I think she'd ignore it. Honestly, she doesn't think of it at all. It's about as noticeable to her as the color of your eyes or how tall you are, it's a miniscule detail that doesn't define you, it's just another feature. It's nothing important to her, and she wishes it didn't bother you.

☼While you are all adults, she knows that some lack the decorum necessary to not make their judgements known and it bothers her deeply. Anytime anyone speaks on it, she rolls her eyes. She thoroughly thinks it's beneath you to be bothered by it. Not only is it low-hanging fruit, but it's a sign of deficient intellect. They couldn't insult your intelligence, your competence, or anything about you that actually mattered, they had to go for your appearance, and she will tell them as such. She is very good at her professional insults.

☼As much as she compliments you, she emphasizes your other traits. If you're a writer, an artist, a dancer, any skill you have that you built for years or any talent you were just born with, she dedicates a lot of time to participating and validating it at any chance she gets. She wants you to take pride in something else, something that no one can take from you. Looks fade throughout the years, everyone is eventually going to be cast aside as their hairs grey and their teeth start to fall out. Knowledge never grows obsolete. Besides, people with legitimate interests and hobbies are too busy doing things they enjoy ruminating on how they look.

☼She knows it isn't what you want to hear, but it is what you need to hear sometimes. You are perfect just the way you are. She has never had any desire or want to change you. She has never imagined you any other way than the way you are. She doesn't want anyone who looks different than you, she doesn't want you because of the way you look. Of course, she thinks you're beautiful, but that doesn't matter to her. Never has and it never will. Just as she has faith that you aren't with her for how she looks, she hopes you have faith that you looks are not a determining factor for why she's with you. You are just you and she wouldn't want you any other way.

[joemama-2]

" all i want for christmas is you "

♡ drabble of my series velvet lies

♡ gojo x reader

♡ synopsis: it's the first christmas you're spending with your boyfriend, satoru gojo.

♡ tags/warnings: fluff, angst, hints of a dysfunctional household, suggestive content

♡ wc: 3.3k

Year: 2015

“Where are you going?”

You stop midway, having just almost slipped out of the front food undetected. You thought she was still sleeping. Turning your head over your shoulder slightly, bag slung over your shoulder, hood on. “I…I’m sleeping over Satoru’s.”

“Hah,” she scoffs out, lip curving up bitterly. “And who gave you the permission to?”

“I’m nineteen, mom.”

“And still living under my roof.”

Your lips purse, holding back a frown. It’s already nine at night, Christmas Eve. You told Satoru you’d be at his by nine-thirty. If she holds you up any longer, you’ll be late. “Mom, please, okay? We’re not doing anything today and I want to spend it with him.”

Your mother stalks forward, snatching the bag off your shoulder. She looks in, spotting a small gift inside. When her hand reaches in to bring it out, you stop her with a grip on her wrist. “Please, stop. You’re drunk.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow, her lips twisting into a scowl. “Drunk?” she spits out, yanking her wrist free. “How dare you accuse me of that?”

The bitterness in her voice stings, but you hold your ground—you have to. “Look mom, I don’t want to fight right now.” You keep your tone measured, and calm, acting like the adult in this situation. You’re always the adult around her. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can we just—”

“Can we just what?” she cuts you off, her voice rising. “Pretend everything’s fine while you run off to God knows where with him? Always with him. Do you even care about this family anymore?”

Your jaw clenches at her words, frustration bubbling under your skin. “It’s not like that, Mom,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. “Satoru’s my boyfriend. He’s important to me.”

“More important than me?” she snaps back, her words laced with hurt. “Than your own mother? Than the one who gave birth to you and brought you into this world, you ungrateful brat.” Her nails dig into your skin while she tries to hold onto you, shaking your arm with vigor as if it’s a physical alignment to the harsh words she grits at you.

You falter, the weight of her question pressing against your chest. “That’s not what I’m saying,” you mutter, lowering your gaze. At this moment, you feel as if whatever you say is not good enough for her. Whatever you say, it’ll spark an unnecessary argument or fight—something you don’t want nor have the energy for. Carefully, you remove yourself from her tight hold, the alcohol in her system giving you the ampleness to do that quite easily. 

She exhales a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. For a moment, the tension between you softens, but it’s short-lived. She steps closer, holding the bag tightly against her chest. “If you walk out that door,” she says, her voice trembling with unspoken pain, “don’t bother coming back.”

Your heart skips a beat, the ultimatum hanging heavy in the air. You can’t tell if she means it—if the alcohol is speaking for her, or if it’s a wound she’s trying to inflict deliberately. “I’m nineteen,” you say again, your voice quieter this time, tinged with sadness. “I love you, Mom. But I just want to have a happy day today.” You reach for the bag, and for a moment, she doesn’t resist. Her fingers tighten around the strap as you pull it away, but she lets go, her expression unreadable. 

“He’ll never stay.” Your mother says, tinged with a hint of jealous amusement. “Men like him don’t go for little girls like you. It won’t last, it never does. And when that happens, don’t come crying to me. Because I’ll tell you I told you so.”

Turning toward the door, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle. You won’t give in, not now. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. So, you suck it up, taking what she says to a very surface-level degree. Because at the end of the day, you have some respect for her. But that is diminishing slowly and slowly until one day, you might never have it anymore. And you’re okay with that, maybe even waiting for it. “Merry Christmas,” you say softly, not looking back.

You don’t wait for a reply. 

The cold night air bites at your skin as you step outside, the door clicking shut behind you. Your chest feels tight, but you push the feeling aside, tugging your hood further over your head. Satoru is waiting, and for now, that’s all that matters.

“Minus ten points for tardiness.”

You sigh, stepping in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Closing and locking the door behind you, he follows you. Peering into the bag that housed some clothes to sleep in, his eyes are drawn to the small present. A grin sneaks its way onto his face, hand steathily reaching in. “Oh? And what’s thi—”

“No,” your eyes roll, effectively swatting his sneaky fingers. “No peeking, or you’ll be on the naughty list.”

He giggles, following you into his living room. Watching as you set your bag onto the lavish sofa, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind you. The tips of his snowy hair tickle below your jaw, not being able to resist the shiver and subsequent airy chuckle the falls from you. You feel his smile against your neck, his soft and full lips planting sweet kisses along the stretch of it like he’s tediously worshipping you. “I’m always on the naughty list, baby. You know that.”

Again, you roll your eyes—this time in more amusement than annoyance. “And naughty boys don’t get presents, Satoru.”

“What do you mean? I have my present right here in my arms.” Another chuckle and he’s kissing up your neck to your ear, playfully nibbling at your lobe. His hand turns your chin so you’re face to face. He calculates the twinkle in your pretty eyes for a second—but a second is more than enough time. Leaning down and indulging in you. “My present tastes sweet, too.” He mumbles against your lips, head tilting to deepen the passionate moment. 

Twisting your body to face him better, your arms wrap around his neck while his around your waist. You two stay like this for a few seconds, inhaling each other’s breath like it’s a meal, tongues rubbing together. The kiss deepens, his hands slipping under the hem of your sweater to rest against the warmth of your skin. The heat of the moment wraps around you both, drowning out the chilly air outside the window. It’s intoxicating, the way his lips move against yours, slow yet insistent, as if he’s savoring every second.

When you finally pull back for air before it goes too far, his forehead rests against yours, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. His breath fans across your lips, warm and teasing. “Told you, silly. I’ve actually been good,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, sultry tone that always sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of his albino hair out of his face. “Good boys don’t try to bribe Santa with kisses, Satoru.”

“Santa should’ve known what she was getting into when she got with me.” His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “Besides,” he adds, tilting his head slightly, “if I wasn’t good, you wouldn’t be kissing me back like that.”

You sigh, lightly hitting his chest. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Only because you fill me up,” he fires back without missing a beat, the cheekiness in his grin giving way to a softer look. His thumb brushes against your cheek as he gazes at you, all traces of teasing momentarily replaced by something deeper. It’s in these moments that you realize just how much he loves you, how much he treasures these quiet times together when the world falls away, leaving just the two of you. “Thank you,” he whispers suddenly, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

“For what?” you ask softly, brushing your fingers along the nape of his neck.

“For always being my home,” he says, his eyes holding yours as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. “For making me feel like I belong.”

Your chest tightens, warmth spreading through you. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re my home too, Satoru.” His arms tighten around you in response feels like a promise, one that doesn’t need words.

After a beat of silence, he decides to bite the bullet. “Do you wanna tell me why you were late?” You hesitate, lips thinning into a line he knows all too well. It’s the look that tells him he already knows the answer, it’s like a telepathic way of communicating with one another. He doesn’t push, nodding and interlacing your fingers before bringing you over to the kitchen. “That’s fine. We don’t have to talk about anything. Just you and me, that’s it. Parents gone so we have the whole place to ourselves, remember?” 

You let out a soft sigh of relief, thankful that he isn’t pressing further. It’s one of the things you appreciate most about Satoru—his ability to read you, to know when to dig deeper and when to let things be. He squeezes your hand gently as he holds onto you, the warmth of his home wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingers in the air, remnants of whatever candles he had lit earlier. The cozy space is dimly lit, with only the soft glow of fairy lights strung along the windows. Satoru releases your hand to open the fridge, rummaging around with exaggerated movements to make you laugh. “Let’s see,” he says, peering inside. “What can I whip up to impress my lovely guest tonight? Gourmet pizza rolls? Instant ramen? Or…” He pulls out a half-eaten cheesecake with a dramatic flourish, “this masterpiece of dairy and sugar.”

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he fires back, setting the cheesecake on the counter. He turns to you, leaning casually against the counter with that boyish grin you can never resist. “Seriously, though, are you hungry? Thirsty? Or just here to bask in my undeniable charm?”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll take some of that cheesecake, thanks. And water.”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” He grabs two forks and fills up a glass of water, sliding one toward you before hopping onto the counter like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He takes a bite, pointing his fork at you. “You know, I should charge you for this. High-quality desserts like this don’t come cheap.”

“Oh, please,” you tease, taking a bite of your own. “You didn’t even make it.”

“Semantics, semantics,” he says with a wave of his hand, but his smile softens as he watches you. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you both eat, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. After a moment, he speaks again, quieter this time. “I meant it, you know. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re here.”

You glance up at him, his blue eyes meeting yours with an openness that always makes your chest tighten. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world, makes it harder to keep your walls up. “Thanks, Satoru,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I really needed this tonight.”

His grin returns, brighter than ever. “Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty great at being exactly what people need.” He winks, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “What you need.”

For the first time that day, you feel the weight on your chest ease, just a little. Maybe tonight doesn’t have to be about the things you’re running from. Maybe, just for a while, it can be about the person sitting right in front of you. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. Your one and only. Yeah, you think to yourself as you wipe some frosting from the corner of his mouth. 

You are what I need.

“You don’t have to record this…” you mutter in embarrassment. The hat he made you wear was one thing, but now he’s acting like some dad. Recording in landscape mode as you open the gift he wrapped for you. 

“Pfft! Open it! It’s a memory we can look back on when we’re old and crippled.” He waves you off with one hand, lifting his head over the phone to give you a certain look. 

With finality, you exhale heavily and unwrap your gift. Your own anticipation is eating at you, hoping he didn’t get you something too extravagant. You already told him not to, but he’s Satoru. Besides, you’d feel like shit if he got you something expensive and yours isn’t. Nimble fingers unwrap the paper decorated with red hearts and Christmas trees, finally getting it out the way. In its wake is a small, rectangular box. 

“Proposing already?”

“Not yet.”

You snicker, taking in a deep breath before opening it. Your eyes widen, lips parting a small gasp falls from your lips. “...sa…toru…” you say, feeling a familiar tinkle to your heart, skin heating up and smile subconsciously growing. Carefully, you remove the piece from its placement in the box. Holding it up to the light, it looks even more beautiful. “This is…” The delicate necklace sparkles under the glow of the fairy lights, a silver chain adorned with a small, intricate charm shaped like a snowflake. Tiny gemstones catch the light, creating a mesmerizing shimmer. “The one you wanted.” He finishes for you, lowering his phone, the camera still rolling. “Open it.”

When you open the pretty snowflake locket, there’s a picture printed inside. A miniature version of the first picture you two took together. It’s awkward and your smiles seem a little forced due to the close proximity. But looking back at it now, all you can think of is how endearing it is. How cute it is. When you meet his eyes, he’s already looking at you—tenderness in his expression. “Thank you, Satoru. It’s beautiful, I love it.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, the kind that makes your chest tighten in a way you can’t quite put into words. “I’m glad you love it,” he says quietly, his gaze steady, unwavering.

Your fingers lightly brush over the tiny photo, the memory of that day flooding back to you. It had been awkward, both of you still figuring each other out, yet there was something unspoken in the air even then. Looking at it now, it feels like the perfect encapsulation of where it all began—a little clumsy, a little uncertain, but undeniably sweet. “You kept this picture all this time?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise and affection.

“Of course I did,” he repliesmas if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It was the first moment I had proof you actually liked being around me.” He laughs, his playful tone back in full force.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” he counters, moving closer. “I wanted you to have something that’s just… us. A little reminder of how far we’ve come.”

Your heart swells, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s stopped spinning. “It’s perfect,” you say, meeting his gaze. “It’s so thoughtful, Satoru. I’ll treasure it.”

He leans down, his nose nudging yours. “You better, because it’s a symbol of my undying devotion to you.” His voice is teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes you smile.

“Well, now I feel bad about my gift,” you admit, scrunching your nose. “It’s nothing compared to this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you properly. “Anything from you is the best gift I could ask for. Besides, I already got what I wanted—you, here with me.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. “Alright, alright, you win. I’ll stop doubting myself.”

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Because there’s no competition—you’re already the best thing in my life.” And just like that, you’re reminded why you fell for him in the first place.

When it’s his turn to open his present from you, he’s making you hold the camera now. You’re nervous—rightfully so. Satoru has everything he could need and want, and then some. So coming up with a gift was both hard and tedious for you. But, you can pat yourself on the shoulder for a job well done. 

He’s much more quick when unrwrapping it, big smile on his face that barely shows off his excitement. In just barely three seconds, the wrapping is off and carelessly thrown to the side, opening the little box. His eyes widen for a moment, and then his expression shifts into something that makes your heart flutter—equal parts surprise and awe. Nestled inside the box is a custom-made keychain, simple yet meaningful. It’s crafted from silver, with a small engravement of your shared favorite flower, a purple hyacinth. The small phrase, “here with you, now and always.” is below the flower.

For a moment, he’s speechless, his fingers carefully lifting the keychain from its box. The soft clinking sound it makes as it moves feels like the only noise in the room. “You made this?” he finally asks, looking up at you, his voice softer than usual.

You nod, biting your lip nervously. “I… I had it made, yeah. I know it’s nothing big, but I wanted to give you something personal. Something you could keep with you wherever you go.”

His thumb brushes over the engraving, and his lips tug into the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “It’s perfect,” he says, his tone filled with a tenderness that sends warmth spreading through your chest. “I mean it, this is—this is incredible.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a wave of relief. “You really like it?”

“Like it?” He sets the keychain down carefully, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I love it.” His eyes glimmer with something almost boyish, the excitement he always has when you do something that touches his heart. “I mean, look at it!” he says, picking it up again. “This is so thoughtful. The writing? And the flower? Genius. It’s your flower, I always think of you whenever I see one. It’s like you’re with me all the time now, even when you’re not.”

You laugh softly, your nerves dissipating. “That was the idea.”

He grins, turning back to you and holding it up proudly. “You’ve officially raised the bar for all future gifts. I’ll carry this with me everywhere, you know that?”

“I’d hope so,” you murmur, watching as he clips it onto his keys right then and there.

Once he’s done, he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers into your hair.

You smile, your hands resting against his back. “I guess we’re both pretty amazing, then.”

He chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “Best Christmas ever,” he declares, and the look in his eyes tells you he means it.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispers back, hands itching for you.

You two seal the end of the gift giving with a kiss, straddling his hips. It feels just right. His hands, his lips, his whispered praises. Like he said, you have the night to yourselves, and you plan to take complete advantage of that. Because after all, that’s not the only gift you’re giving him. 

In the future, one night after a particular revelation that shook his world, he finds himself looking at the keychain that’s been locked in a drawer he hasn’t dared to open in years. And if he scrolls high enough in his photo album, he’ll come across a familiar video that starts wholesome but ends with something far more…naughty.

(You two forgot the camera was rolling.)

a/n: hi everyone, today i felt inspired and wanted to give out a cute little drabble pre everything. i hope ur all having a wonderful day and make sure to eat well!, tagging the usual taglist

taglist is now closed

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins

@sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited

@duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee

@devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts @bitchycloudstrawberry @tiffyisme3760 @iheartshopping

@chiara-hotel @uriahs-barn @celloccino @roronoazorosbxtchh @pseudophyllus

@ratedrrrr @m1gota @tojideckmuncher @yigaclvn @sukunaslve

@eiizabeth-torres @cherrythiccums0 @satorustorm @zoeyflower @username23345

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@redzscare @aldebrana @nycmagi @s4ikooo1 @dreaming-lis @gigiiiiislife

@boothillglazer @miss-dior @miakxn @rjreins

[multipleoccupancy]

Killian left Samantha with some space but he was sure to look to her patiently when she sat down and dried her eyes. It must have been horrifying but in a way he felt moved that she had told him in the first place. At least now he knew and if needed knew what to look out for in case it was an especially difficult mission for Samantha.

It was back to business fairly fast though and Killian nodded as she gave her instructions. Looking up to the tree she was talking about and to that first branch. Looked easy enough, right? He was quietly glad when she said she would climb though, he didn't want to embarrass himself if he couldn't climb it, he'd never live that down.

"Sure, you get yourself up there, I'll watch and promise not to laugh if you fall." He smiled but knew she would be fine, Samantha was good at such things after all, he didn't think it would be much of a bother for her. Meanwhile he went to collect one of the pullies to be ready.

The continued rouse was only made stronger with Violet's reply and Sloane was very pleased she knew to keep it going. What an incredibly bright young lady! They were finally able to break character and she was blushing at the praise. "Ah, I think I would have been well suited to such a career," Sloane agreed for his prospects as a drama teacher.

"But I can only reflect the energy of my co-star and there was much of that which you improvised and made much better." Further praise as they walked back towards his office. "He probably feels like he has done a good deed too," Sloane thought out loud with a glance back in the direction of the admin office. "I think if we can do little things, like cheering up such people under these circumstances, it will make a difference. Not to mention help us out if we need another friend if things get a little tough." A man with all the keys was a good friend to have!

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha sat back down when Killian broke the hug. She grabbed a tissue from her pocket and dried her eyes, before offering him a little smile. "Yes, we've got this," she echoed. She believed it. They made a great team. And she did feel a little bit lighter, now that she had shared this memory with him. She was no longer carrying it alone.

"Let's set up the pulleys in the tree," she said, standing up and brushing her jeans with her hands, "there's a big branch there that seems sturdy enough." And Samantha was good at climbing trees, she had been doing it all her childhood. "I'll climb, and you throw me the ropes once I'm up there?" She was grinning. While the plan was dangerous and the stakes quite high, climbing a tree was exciting all the same.

Even as they walked away from the admin office, Sloane kept up the charade for a little bit longer -an important detail, in case the man could still hear them. Violet wasn't sure she would have thought of it herself. But it was, again, easy to follow his expert lead. "Maybe we can use matches?" she suggested, her inventive mind already thinking up ways to toast marshmallows without a bonfire -she couldn't help herself.

But of course, there would be no marshmallows and no fire, and when Sloane seemed to finally break his performance, the ideas were all stored in a little box, in the back of her mind.

She blushed at the praise. "Thank you." Was she becoming a good liar? It felt like a mixed bag of emotions. She was happy she did well, but... should she be happy about it? "But it was easy to follow your lead," she praised back, "you were really impressive. All I had to do was play along with you. You could be a real theatre teacher, you know."

[sidneywasfound]

WHY NOT BOTH...? | Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader 🎁

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader,

Warnings; Lando being jelous because of Oscar and Reader,Reader being a brat,Smutt,Hair pulling/grabbing,threesome,Unprotected sex,Dirty talk,Oral (f recieving),Handjob,A scene inspired by the movie 'Challengers' hehe.

AUTHORS NOTE; MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS, I know it's Christmas Eve,but I'm gonna give you the christmas present now ♡

English is not My first lenguage this may have some mistakes hehe

⋅°₊ • ୨୧ ‧₊° ⋅

You and Oscar don't have any kind of Shyness when it comes to Public displays of...love?...You used to get Comfortable in his lap while he was sitting on the couch,both watching tiktoks in his phone. All this kind of affection really Made Lando upset about the situation between You and him,At first you were flirting with him, and now you're sitting on Oscar's lap?. It is the last year christmas party that Max organized, everyone was chatting,eating something from the snacks,dancing...but lando was watching you both,laughing together,talking...He knew that Oscar did it secretly, but every time he laughed he hid his face in your neck to pretend he was trying to hide his laugh, but he is clever and Lando knew it,he just wanted to find a stupid excuse to feel your neck and Vanilla scent on his face and lips.

Later,People started to celebrate, dancing and doing parties stuff. Almost all the lights in the huge house were off except for some party lights. Lando lost sight of them, since Yuki had invited him to the karaoke that was in the other room. After a while he saw them,Sitting on the big couch, She was on Oscar's lap kissing him Passionately,With one hand resting on Oscar's cheek and the other grabbing the hair from the back of his head,pulling him wildly towards her while their tongues moved in each other's mouths, Oscar stared to move his hand towards your inner thigh making you lower your kisses to his neck and play with the hem of his sweatshirt. Lando was freezing,watching You and Oscar like some kind of fetish, Fascinated with the movements of your tongue, wishing to be the one who is kissing you aka Oscar Fucking Piastri.

Lando decided that this was enough teasing for the night,and when You went to the kitchen for a beverage he approached You ."Hey,are you busy?" Lando said leaning on the kitchen countertop,You looked at him in surprise as you poured yourself some coke."Are you that desperate...?" You said,and god he was dying,It was a pretty common thing of you,You were never with someone just to be with someone, You emanated superiority and power making yourself seem unreachable,and that made Oscar and Lando die to be with you,looking like two chihuahas humping to your leg for attention. "i'm not desperate." Lando said trying to be tough. "And why were you spying on me while i'm kissing Oscar? Or maybe you were spying on Oscar ? Don't worry, I'm not judging!" She said mockingly,a thing that also put the two of them in a shy and submissive mood. "Of course not!,but i'm done of being with him one day and me the next, is this a joke to You?" Lando said grabbing your arm and making eye contact with you ."maybe...If You guys stop being such bitches to me, we could make an arrangement between us..." Lando looked at you confused, "just...Okay Lando, I'll wait for you in the room upstairs... let's finish this quickly..." She went up the stairs and lando stood in the middle of the kitchen surprised.

Lando decided to wait a little before going upstairs,He had to mentally prepare himself to fuck her so good that she would have to stay with him for the next few days. He sat on the couch,beside Oscar and Charles. Oscar looked at him sideways in confusion and started using his phone. Instead Charles decided to talk to him "are You okay mate? You look kinda weird and nervous" Charles said with sympathy and his thick accent. " Yeah mate,just a tough night,isn't?" Lando says joking "Yeah,sure" Oscar says unexpectedly with pride without taking his eyes off the phone. Now Lando really wanted to hit him, "sure,Yuki beat us all at karaoke, it seems that he has a hidden talent!" Charles says innocently "You two should compete sometime,To see who is the Best and toughest of you haha!" Charles said naively,while Oscar and Lando look at each other smirking with pride in their imaginary competition.

Finally Lando decided it was time to enter the room,She was lying on the bed with her clothes disheveled,She was barefoot, a strap of her top fell revealing a part of her bra,Her skirt was a little raised, revealing her panties between her legs,Her hair was messy,Her breathing was Messy,making her chest rise with each breath, and making her tits press against her tight top. "Fuck,You are going to kill me..." Lando said feeling the bulge in his pants grow. He approached her kissing her desperately "Wait Lando...stop..." She said as he kissed her neck "what's...wrong?...?" He said in between Kisses,"We have to wait for Oscar...",She said making lando stop abruptly,moving away from your neck to look at you. "W-wha-?",he was interrumped by the sound of the Wooden door opening."My God, You gorgeous...teasing me all the night wha-..." Oscar came through the door, paralyzed with the view of your legs wide Open and Lando between them."What is Lando doing here?!" He said upset. She pulled Lando off her and sat on the edge of the bed. The two, Dazed, without asking quickly went to sit beside her, leaving her in the middle.

"it's just...i love You guys so much!..and...I can't resist having just one of You..." She said with a fake pout."Well,You have to decide...You can't keep teasing us like this..." Oscar said,putting a hand on your thigh. She remained silent,She raised her head looking at Oscar and approached his face,Their breaths touched, she caressed his cheek lightly,He put a hand on her waist. She brought her lips closer and made them touch Oscar's,With their mouths half open,Slowly and slightly she began to put the tip of her tongue in his mouth,making him grab the back of her head to kiss her Passionately,Her tongue played his tongue, while he devoured her lips making obscene noises. Lando was dumbfounded,Looking at Oscar with jealousy while she lightly touched his inner thigh. She slowly separated from him while he looked at her enamorated with his mouth half open, leaving a thread of saliva between their lips.

Lando was silent ,thinking that he had already lost his chance until she turned to him. She came closer and started kissing him desperately, in a completely different way than how she kissed Oscar. Lando brought her closer to him, putting his tongue in her mouth and kissing her lips that let out soft moans. She started to put a hand under his shirt but stopped and separated from him, staying back in the middle. The two looked at each other waiting for her to decide, but she remained silent without saying anything.She looked at them flirtatiously smiling,"Why not both?".She began to take off her top, revealing her bra that they were wanting to see so bad. Without hesitating any longer, the two coordinated at the same time to kiss her neck on both sides,She moaned and grabbed both of their heads, lifting her head to give them space.

She started kissing desperately Oscar while unbuckling Lando's pants. From one moment to the next, Oscar appear between your legs lifting your skirt to kiss the Slim fabric of your underwear. You let out a moan that echoed on Lando's lips making him harder,You put your hand in his pants to take out his member stroking it. Oscar pulled down your underwear to give a lick to your cunt. You moaned lightly after this, moving your hand faster making Lando whimper too. Oscar started to move his tongue between your folds,Licking your clit and sticking his tongue as deep as he could. Lando lowered his hand to your cunt to start rubbing your clit,Leaving Oscar with less things to lick. You moaned as you kissed Lando with your hand squeezing and moving up and down his length. "I-im ah..." Lando couldn't finish his sentence when he felt his orgasm coming, leaving only a very pornographic moan. Staining his abdomen and a little of your hand. You grabbed Oscar's hair and pulled it, moaning as you felt your orgasm coming "ah Oscar!..." Luckily you didn't finish so you pushed him towards you, leaving him on top of you, making his member touch your crotch.

"Come on Lando...if you position yourself correctly I can suck you off..." You said while kissing Oscar but Lando was defeated on the side of the bed "Calm down guys, I already fucked her yesterday...I'm exhausted" Oscar laughed and you blushed when you heard that. "H-hey!,I just wanted to include you know..." Lando looked at her "Well next time we do this I'll fuck you." Oscar lined up and slowly entered you, letting out a moan from both of you. "Wait...again?,You're okay with that?" Lando looked at you pretending to stop and think,While Oscar began to thrust into You making You moan, And cling to his back "As long as I can enjoy watching you get fucked this good then I don't care." Lando said watching as Oscar rammed into you wildly,You just rolled your eyes."looks like The little slut's game went wrong" Lando said mocking You."She was trying to make us jealous and now she's like the obedient whore",Oscar said thrusting you faster.

You felt the wave of pleasure pass over you and you moaned as you felt Oscar finish inside you.The three of You lay on the bed face up, both of them lying on her tits, The music of the party was loud but isolated."Do you think this relationship will work?" She said, Lando and Oscar looked at each other. "If we continue like this, I hope it lasts forever" Oscar said laughing,You and Lando smiled, you were about to talk when you heard a familiar voice outside the door.

"Yes and I hope You guys clean the room and the sheets after this!"no other one but Max Verstappen shouted at them from outside his room.

"shit" The three of them said seeing all the clothes thrown all over the room.

⋅°₊ • ୨୧ ‧₊° ⋅

Tags: @that-one-little-soybean

[bootycallin]

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ want me that top!

꩜ .ᐟ basically; caitlyn’s that kind of top…

cw; female reader. stráp usage (r! receiving). stráp referred to as côck bc. cait is MEANNN. brief mentions of edġíng. sweáring. pet names. degrádátion but also praișe lol. dírty talk. däcryphïlia if u squint. not proofread.

a/n; never wrote for caitlyn. please do excuse any shitty writing and ooc. anyways she’s so hot

NSFW UTC.

cait’s that mean kind of top. it’s not that she doesn’t want you feeling good! it’s the opposite. she wants you feeling good for so long you’re crying and writhing, begging for her to just let you cum.

yes, cait’s the type of top that edges you for her own enjoyment. next question.

cait, contrary to vi, is that type of top that loves straps. something about dicking you down, seeing your eyes roll—she knows it’s not her dick but damn, she can cum on fucking your pussy with that dildo if it comes down to it.

cait’s that type of top to say the nastiest shit with the sweetest tone of voice. yeah? you like that, mm? i know you do, baby. such a pretty little slut for me. her praise gives you mixed signals but she doesn’t stop, because she can feel your pussy twitch every time she calls you her slut.

cait’s that type of top that has surprising self control. she doesn’t get angry with brats and she doesn’t get jealous often, as a kiramman should. that doesn’t mean she won’t show you what happens when you’re a brat.

cait’s that type of top that gets what she wants. she’s always had it all on a silver platter and that isn’t changing now, not even when it comes to you.

cait’s that type of top that will take you anywhere. and i mean, anywhere.

cait’s that type of top that spoils you rotten. be it with clothes or making you cum. when you earn it, that is. yes, she will give you the most luxurious, expensive lingerie sets in piltover, if you agree to model for her. if you act good for her, i guarantee she will give you the best orgasms of your life. there’s nothing she likes more than to see you submit.

cait’s that type of top to be mean, but she has good intentions. she can’t help herself sometimes. you’re easy to poke and pick at when you’re under her, and you’re just so cute when you cry. she loves you, though. she swears. her good girl.

“what was that, baby?”

she was making fun of you. you were babbling incoherently, royal blue strap reminiscent of her own hair color plunging in and out of you, tip repeatedly kissing your cervix until you couldn’t think anymore.

“caiiittt…!” you whine out. she’s the only thing you can think of. pretty much any other words escape you as she fucks you, moaning and whining her name over and over and over again.

“hmm? yeah? you like that, huh?” she’s smirking. it’s so cute. you’re so cute, chest heaving with every moan and whine, tears pricking at your eyes at the sheer pressure on your womb. her pelvis repeatedly rubs and smacks against your clit, sharp little stings of pleasure to the puffy nub. not enough to cum, just enough to drive you to that edge and then away again. a constant swing of being at your limit and being pulled back by caitlyn.

“look at me.” she snaps suddenly, driving her cock deep into you, tip now practically smushed against your insides as she leans up against you, legs pushed up near your sides. she slings them over her shoulders, one hand holding your knee and the other grabbing your chin to make you look straight at her. her nails bite into the skin ever so slightly, a subtle reminder.

“c’mon. tell me how you like it, baby,” she grins, her movements suddenly continuing, but slower. methodical. she just rubs into you, just barely leaving an inch of space before going back in. her tip is massaging your uterus, you can feel it, and it almost feels like you’re about to explode.

“caitlyn!” you cried, legs trembling over her shoulders, “p-pleaseee…”

“please what?” she’s not letting you get the easy way out. no way. she’s panting, the heat coiling in her stomach growing the more she sees you beg and whine and cry her name. the rubber of the strap rubs against her own cunt, a delicious, excruciating continuous stimulus that she can’t help chasing.

“please… please fuck me, please… wanna cum, please let me—“

you’re cut off by a sharp smack of skin against skin as she suddenly thrusts full force into you. “good girl.” she nearly growls, adjusting her hold on your thighs, nearly folding you just to get the deepest angle she could. her thrusts grow more erratic, harder, and she grins at the little bulge that forms in your tummy every time she thrusts back into you.

you’re moaning so loud you might as well be screaming. god spare any maid in the kiramman estate from hearing you two. caitlyn has the decency to lean forward, kissing you open-mouthed and all, swallowing allll your moans into her own. you’re blubbering incoherently, tears making your eyes glassy—which just riles her up further.

“gonna!-“

“gonna cum, yeah? come on. cum for me, baby, you’ve earned it.”

she barely gets through her sentence, as you cum over her cock, earning her a chuckle as you paint her shaft a pretty milky white. your back arched and your head flopped back, moaning out a long whine of her name.

“yeah… that’s it. make a mess. you’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? just let it all out.” she fucks you through all of your orgasm, picking up her pace a little just to see your juices gush onto her lower belly. she goes until she reaches her own orgasm. the friction driving her into a wave of pleasure that makes her nearly collapse over you.

she lets your thighs fall from her shoulders. her chest presses against yours, her movements halt inside you as she groans a curse into your neck, riding out her own high.

you both lay there for a minute or so, just catching your breath. she picks her head up, kissing your neck, up to your jaw, up to your lips.

“my flower,” she muttered, “so perfect. so good for me. i love you.”

cait’s that type of mean top… but not cruel. she’s gonna let you cum—eventually. she wants to see you cum. there’s nothing better than seeing you burst with pleasure because of her. but she’s not letting you do that, not until all you can think about is her, her, her<3

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[sinstear]

ㅤ❝ I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY AND ONCE A WEEK FOR YOU ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader

masterlist. warnings. 18+, sub!abby, dom!reader, milf!abby, mechanic!reader, dirty talk (a lot of it, oops), fingering, strap usage, abby just being a needy brat, breeding kink, there’s probably more a/n. merry christmas gays <3 this is a small installation to the milf!abby au me and @vifilms have created. if it’s a little confusing on the jump, don’t worry, you’ll get more parts explaining their relationship before or whatever soon. happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate it, i hope you all have a blessed day either way <3

milf!abby who doesn’t hesitate to text you when it comes down to her friends having a small get-together, her first instinct was to ask you to come with her, and she was a little too giddy and excited when you replied with ‘of course, more time to spend with a pretty lady’ what she would never admit was that she spent an ungodly amount of minutes looking at your reply, apples of her cheeks crimson red before she replied with her own ‘sounds good, can’t wait to see you’ unaware that on the other side of town, you were already rummaging around in your closet, trying to find something perfect enough, that will go with whatever she picks, to wear. apart from ripped jeans, t-shirts, and a few jackets, you were at a loss. confused on what to wear to a small party with people who would dress up a little more … sophisticated-like. the bright colors, the pretty pearls. that wasn’t you. you were content with your hoodies, your jeans, your button-up shirts, and sweatpants. not what they love to wear.

milf!abby can’t focus the second you walk through the door that same night, dressed in a pair of jeans, heavy boots paired with a white shirt, and a jacket. she’s seen you in nothing but a tank top, oil and grease covering your arms, and even then you looked hot working on her car every day, you looked ethereal and more handsome tonight. abby doesn’t know how to react when she finds you talking to some of her friends, offering to help if they need it, seconds later. she thinks it’s kind that you are offering even though you were a guest. one of the many things she adores about you. always wanting to help.

milf!abby drags you away from the party not even 15 minutes later. her hands cupping your face, while yours are instantly pulling down the dress she was wearing, down over her shoulders, and bunching it around her hips as you cup both her tits and squeeze them in the palm of your hands, the second she pulls you into the bathroom. the soft sounds of her whines and whimpers fill the echoed room while you simply grin against her neck, pinching and pulling at her hard pebbled nipples. her head rests against the bathroom door, the whimpers tumbling from her shamelessly has you growling into her neck and slipping your leg between her thigh. a sinister grin appearing on your lips at her sudden gasp, wrapping her arm around your neck and holding you to her. “i bet if i put my hand up your dress right now, you’re gonna be soaked, hm?” you muttered against her flushed skin. “don’t even have to tell me, i know.” your mocking words had abby’s heart pounding in her chest, cunt clenching around nothing and cheeks flushed while she nods desperately. “love your tits so much, so fuckin’ pretty”

milf!abby’s eyes roll back in her head when you’re placing your hand over her mouth, muffling the sounds thats dripping from between her cherry red swollen lips as you bury your fingers deep in her cunt, groaning softly under your breath at the way she clenches around you tightly. “you know how much i love to hear you, but you gotta be quiet f’me, sweetheart, hm?” you coo, kissing away the tears streaking her face. “i know you can do it, don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

“m’sorry, just feels s’good.” abby whimpered against your hand, voice hitching when the palm of your hand rubbed against her neglected clit. fingers clutching at your crumpled shirt, knuckles white with the sheer iron grip she has on you. it makes you laugh, making her whine with a deeper blush knowing just how fucking needy she is. needy for you to touch her, making a mess of her, and have her weak in the knees. you only have to look at her, and she’s begging for you.

“yeah, i can tell, practically soaking my hand.”

that just makes abby clench around you harder. 

milf!abby clings to you for dear life and whimpers loudly into your neck when she gushes all over your fingers minutes later, slick running down the inners of her thigh and another whimper is ripped from her throat as you gently pull your fingers out of her cunt, bringing those fingers straight to your mouth with a grin. her pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible when you wrap your lips around them and suck. the moan you let out at the taste of her, has her rubbing her thighs together again. an action that you don’t miss. “taste just as sweet as last night, sweetheart.” you hummed with a cheeky grin, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her mouth. laughing at her whine. “patience, baby. just a little longer, and i promise, you can have my cock later.”

milf!abby is pathetic and whiny when you’ve finally got her bent over the sink, dress still bunched over her hips, panties in your back pocket for a keepsake, and she can’t hold back on those sounds you love to hear so much when your cock is deep inside her cunt. stretching her out perfectly, like her pussy was made for you. you could tell she was struggling to keep it down, not wanting her friends to hear. you on the other hand, were crazy. you wouldn’t care at all if they heard the pretty sounds you were pulling from her with each thrust of your hips. 

“wish i could feel you” you groaned, hands iron grip on her hips, pulling her back and down on your cock. your eyes dropping to shamelessly watching the way her cunt practically sucks your strap back inside of her. only for your eyes to snap up at the soft whine to find abby with her head buried in the bend of her elbow, trying to muffle her sounds. “lemme hear you, baby, yeah?” you cooed, tangling your fingers into her soft blonde locks and pulled her head back carefully. “yeah, you look so pretty like this” you smirked at her through the mirror. “look so sexy while i split you open on my cock.”

abby wasn’t sure whether to look at you or herself. her hair was disheveled, her light makeup ruined, cheeks flushed, hips bruised due to your grip, and her lips all red and swollen. if you both walked out of the bathroom now, everyone would know. they would all know what happened, and maybe that excites abby a little because her cunt clenches around your cock, gasps, and jolts against the mirror when you’re removing your hand from her hip, to reach down between her legs and rub light circles on her clit. “just needed to have all your worries and thoughts fucked out that pretty head of yours hm? don’t worry, sweetheart, m’gonna fuck you until you can barely remember your own name.”

the blonde opens her mouth to reply, brain completely empty and cheeks flushed darker red if that’s even possible, but her attempt at trying to reply to your words fail when you angle your hips just perfectly, your cock is deliciously rubbing that spot deep inside her and abby’s hand is quick to slip between her legs and rub circles on her clit with you. “fuck, fuck, right there, please please—” her voice breaks and her head slumps against her mirror, her breath fogging up the glass. “i need—”

“what do you need, hm baby? need me to fuck you until you can’t walk? mark you up? show everyone you’re mine?” you listed, groaning against her neck and fucking her hard, rubbing her clit faster. “need me to fill you up, s’that what you need? fill you up and make you a mama?”

“yes! yes yes, please—” abby’s chokes out, a little too late to warn you or barely registers a warning as her body tenses beneath you and gushes over your cock with a loud gasped whimper that has you putting your mouth over her mouth, not wanting her friends to know what was happening, even if it was something you so badly wanted deep down. “oh—” she sighs against your hand, eyes fluttering closed again as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm.  

“me saying i wanna make you a mama did it for you, huh?” you laughed against her ear, your breath fanning her skin hotly as you ran your nose up and down her neck. enjoying the way she lifts her head up and looks at you through the mirror. completely fucked out. only for you to groan softly when she’s pushing back against you with a whine. “sweetheart,”

“wanna make you cum” 

“later, you can do whatever you want”

milf!abby can’t avoid the grins and smirks her friends give her when you both finally make your way back downstairs to find them in the kitchen. they wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact that abby was patting down her hair, fixing her dress. or you, in all your glory, were butting up your shirt, not caring at all that they were grinning your way. “have fun, abby?” one teased, eyeing up the marks on her neck. “it looks like you guys both had a lot of fun”

glaring at her friend, abby simply huffed, wrapped her arm around yours and scowled. “stop it!” she mumbled, trying to hide the obvious blush coating her face. while you, being a shit, were just laughing softly against her head. “don’t encourage them!”

“m’not doing anything” you grinned, hand slipping down to her lower back and kissing behind her ear. a place you know that always has her melting in your hands. “you don’t have to tell me you had fun, the sounds you were making are enough for me to know, sweetheart.” you whispered in her ear before walking away into the kitchen. that stupid fucking smirk, a smirk she loves a little too much, resting on your lips.

milf!abby who cannot wait until this little party is over so that she can go home and hold you up on your promise of letting her do whatever she wants to do to you. for the time being, she’s just going to have to sit there and let her friends tease her about the sounds that were coming from the bathroom, and ignoring the way you simply looked at her, slumped between two of her friends, legs spread with a beer in your hand and a grin on your face each time she would grow redder at their constant teasing. she just needed to get this party out of the way so she could have you all to herself once again, free to do whatever she wanted, and you were excited, to say the least. 

[thousandyearphantombunker]

If you want to fight for representation maybe don't fucking antagonize artists/writers who fight for it because "it's not good enough!"

Entitled people with ridiculous bullshit expectations like this hold back representation so much

Like I could throw all that criticism toward Legend Of Korra and Steven Universe back at TOH and other shows like it when it comes to disabled representation- "its only coding! It's not outright stated! Eda's curse turns her into a monster! Wahhh" I've stated I don't like how TOH handled disability but I'm so happy it exists because hopefully we'll open up more story telling that explores disability through the perspective of disabled characters themselves rather than a bunch of able bodied neurotypical people writing/regurgitating the same inspiration porn bullshit

I'm not saying we can't criticize these shows (SU and LoK have issues that deserve to be discussed) but creators working on them fought so hard just to get moments like Korra and Asami getting together, for the first lesbian wedding on a children's show. New shows get to flex that they have these characters because other shows like Legend of Korra punched through barriers to give them space- they didn't have space so they made some! You can criticize SU and LoK like I said- SU has serious issues with Filler and some botched ass morals and LoK could be shallow in some parts but if you try and flex on them because new shows have an easier time with gay representation your a fucking idiot- your new shows wouldn't exist without these ones

But no. It's never blunt/explicit enough, it's too problematic because xyz', it's not representing every single facet of our experiences so it must be bad.

Also the gems being nonbinary/genderless just adds another layer to LGBT representation

Are y'all gonna attack TOH because Raine is nonbinary and their relationship with Eda "doesn't count"

I'm done being polite. You can criticize rep and call out harmful things in fiction without erasing the importance of these stories

Steven Universe: Eh, I don't really feel like saying "girlfriend" or "wife". Maybe they're together. They have a special connection...

(gets violently shoved aside)

The Loud House/Craig of the Creek/The Owl House: Pfft, amateur. "My GIRLFRIEND Sam and I..." "I'm texting my GIRLFRIEND, mind your business." "Luz's new GF showed her..."