#one of the first questions i got at the last place i interviewed with was 'are you afraid of being bitten by a dog'

[tonycries]

Lady & The Sick Man - T.F.

Synopsis. Most people would run away from the ghost in their shabby new apartment, Toji Fushiguro makes you lose your mind.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Lady K!reader, Lady K & The Sick Man AU, roommates-to-Iovers, sIeazy Toji, he cooks for you, male mast., face-sítting (fem rec.), Toji’s DOWN BAD, pússydrúnk Toji, dry húmping, matíng presses, he’s BIG, tummy buIges, pushing down on it, MARATHONS, bréeding, spítting, dúmbifícation, fíngering, cúmplay, making him whímper, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 11.1k

A/N. Babygirls, I WILL cry if this doesn’t post-

All in all, it wasn’t the most awful place, considering the dirt-cheap price.

Toji certainly could’ve done worse for himself after being sacked from his job - some nonsense about recessions and workforce reduction, go figure - and racking up a mountain of arrears on his last home. 

Sure, a few questionable mildew stains here, and perhaps a broken floorboard there. But this unverified property wasn’t completely run-down; at the very least it had running water, a dingy kitchen, tolerable enough neighbors, and…

…you.

It was only a few hours after moving into his new apartment that Toji understood exactly why the rent was cheap enough even for him. Exactly why the jittery landlord was oh-so-insistent on signing the contract right away. And exactly why he’d kept looking over his shoulder all throughout their rushed “tour” - as if dreading for something to pop out of thin air any second now.

Like a pretty lil’ poltergeist haunting the closet inside his bedroom.

Toji sighs out a clammy breath at his glaring phone screen, thumb brushing over the twentieth interview rejection this week. 

Honestly, with his recent lack of employment success and the sheer amount of boxes he had to unpack, a ghost seemed like the last of his worries. 

It wasn’t as if he really wanted to do something about his unsolicited roommate in the first place - not that he had the funds to move again, anyway - because from what little he’d seen of you since moving in today, you were harmless. 

And…fucking hot. 

Startling out a disbelieving huff of laughter, Toji empties out a boiling hot kettle over two matching cups of instant ramen. The bubbling red sauce molten and simmering to the surface exactly in time with the traitorous flush over his ears.

Almost hunched-over in his snug kitchen, he could visualize it from glimpses already— that skin-tight dress of yours, so thin it looked see-through, always peering at him from corners with those confused, gorgeous eyes. 

Like he’s sure you were doing right now.

“D’you want the spicy or the extra-spicy noodles, doll–?” Toji’s crooning out somewhere behind his back, lazy drawl laced with a titter of sheer amusement as he hears your shocked squeak. Followed shortly by the urgent thud-thud-thud of you surely running back to the safe haven of your - his - bedroom. Calling out, “Oi! S’not that bad.”

Turning back, he warily eyes the soils of chemicals swimming around inside the mouth-watering concoction that’d become his dinner every night since getting fired.

Well, Toji’s bored, mossy eyes flit questioningly from the tower of instant ramen stocked up on his kitchen counter to the shadows where you’d disappeared. If even a dead person wouldn’t eat those then…

And it hurt - ah, did it hurt for him to grab a handful of the ones he’d begrudgingly acknowledged were extra awful for your insides. Big, beefy hands shovelling them down his waste bin with a pained grunt-

Wait- did said dead people even eat? He has no idea, and yet carries both scalding hot cups to the room he’d become quickly accustomed to. Even despite his afterlife accomplice. 

“Yoohoo, pretty lady~ I got somethin’ for ya.” He’s cooing as he enters, husky bass dipping into something softer. Smoother. 

With a humming gruff, he seats himself down on the scratchy tatami floor. Surrounded by so many boxes upon boxes to be sorted through, quirked gaze locked firmly on the shut sliding doors of the closet. That papery wall just opposite him was so flimsy that he could almost see you watching from behind it, waiting. 

And Toji waits, too.

He waits until his senses get used to the slightly damp, willowy scent of the four walls. 

He waits until his ears grow strained n’ tired from yearning for but a single sound that you were still there with him. 

He waits until he’d finished both savory, now-lukewarm cups - in his defense, job-searching and trying to make nice with your resident ghoul will really work up an appetite, alright?

Letting off yet another exhausted gust of air, Toji’s just about to throw his hands in defeat and dispose of the remnants of his dinner - perhaps even try and forget about this entire ordeal altogether. Briefly-unused joints creaking as he stands up, he’s shaking his head free of you when his eyes land on something.

Actually, more someone. 

That raunchily flashy cover of one of his favorite porn DVDs, propped right on top of one open box, the actress in it smiles brightly in a sheer white dress that reminded him too much of yours. 

He gulps– if he remembered correctly, it was about some foreign exchange student that seduced her nervous roommate and- Toji’s lids crack wider, the sleaziest of leers plastering allll across his face. Well, hey…

SLAM!

The cozy closet trembles with both surprise and poor woodworking as Toji all but crashes it open, making quick work of fitting himself inside the stifling airway and propping open the hidden attic doorway homed on the ceiling. The only place he would expect a ghost to disappear off to.

Shit, you think he looked so unfairly handsome like this.

Cottony black fabric of his sweater hanging off of his every bulging muscle, heavy eyelids half-hiding away that glinting stare. Devouring. 

One meaty palm pushing the rickety door upwards, his grin is vulgar as his sights land on your crouched figure. Rasping, “Hey there.” The heated gasps of his words barely hit your face before Toji’s other hand- oh, his other hand shoots up in a split-second to curl sternly around your neck. 

Tight. 

Before you know it, you’re letting yourself be pulled into a filthy, filthy kiss. 

Fuck- Toji’s honed canines snag against the cute plush of your wobbly bottom lip and make you sing out the prettiest whine. Biting back a groan himself when the spit-filled crevice of your mouth parts way to let him squeeze his tongue in - making you suck.

You tasted like the most syrupily cloying candy and, hell, Toji wasn’t one for sweets but now he wanted more. 

More more more. 

The doughy mounds of his sensory tips itch out bruises right near where your pulse was thundering, he’s flexing his strong arms and reeling you in even closer. So soft and warm; you were practically melting into every swipe of his mushy tastebuds, and he was drinking you in like a man dying of thirst.

Straightening his towering height even more into the attic, it was like he was burning. Bright, boiling red. A rugged palm gliding to your beautiful nape and pushing-

Every breath. Every whine. Every slippery dollop of spit that dribbled out of your unfastened maw and straight into his watering mouth. 

Toji was a damn sloppy man - and he was just as cocky, too. Feeling your nose nuzzle against his cheek in an effort to get him to kiss you deeper, he’s parting one bleary eyelid just a fraction to envision the full force of his effect on you. 

Trembling and impatient. How cute.

One dark brow raises at the way your lashes were so close and clumped with great glittering droplets of tears. Sliiiiding just away to take in the way your thighs were squeezing–

“Hck!” You’re breaking off from the lecherous French kiss with a sappy pwah! delicate strings of spittle, still dangling from each of your lips as Toji drunkenly chases after your mouth.

Feeling his gawking on you, your hand shoves shyly between your legs. And the other shoves him right out of the opening of the attic, as if you weren’t raw putty in his palms just mere sultry seconds ago. 

Fuck. 

Toji finds himself thrown back onto the wooden closet floor, marvelling at the thunderous crash of you locking yourself back away - and yet he still can’t fully compute it all. 

A calloused palm comes up to cover the lower half of his face, mind whirling over and over with the burning memory, and before long he’s realizing that he’s let his kiss-swollen lips leak with a thin trail of drool. Him. Drooling. 

Even more once he’s thinking of it again - the way you were sooo fucking wet, just from a kiss. 

“What….the…f-fuck.” Toji mutters to himself, stare latched dazedly to the closed wooden surface of the attic as if just willing it to somehow open once more. Toned thighs making to leave and-

Oh.

It’s right then and there that the man looks down at the hardest fucking boner he’s ever gotten in his entire life, wet n’ achingly swollen. Almost as if his prolonged length was about to break through his sweatpants right this very second-

“Dammit.”

.

.

.

Back at Toji Fushiguro’s last place, there’d been no one but himself to keep him company.

Which wasn’t necessarily bad - he’d still had his instant ramen (almost all of it now thrown away because of…health reasons), his vast porn collection (given away to a few friends, no use keeping something he couldn’t watch with you around), and occasional small talk with his neighbors (his current ones seemed to avoid him for whatever reason.)

Right now, it was just him. And-

“You know, I hear these new microwave meals are supposed ta be killer, pretty lady.” 

“Ahh–!”

“Oh- sorry. S’that too insensitive?” Toji snickers out, sounding not even an ounce apologetic as he catches the cute frill of your ghoul-like dress disappearing behind the corner of the grim kitchen wall. 

It was about as much of a conversation as he’d managed to coax out of you in the week you’d started cohabitating.

A week of letting you squeak and ogle at him from the shadows as you pleased, a week of trying his very best not to show off the puffing bulge of his muscles whenever he worked out unabashedly in front of you. A week since…that kiss.

“How rude.” He’s scoffing, though the curling twitch of his lips says otherwise. Eyes still honed on the way the very crown of your head just spies out from the corner. Cute. 

Seating himself on the creaky kitchen table, Toji places the second microwave dinner right opposite him and pretends not to notice as you pad a few tentative steps forwards. Picking idly at the soggy rice on his plate, he feels the bottom of his stomach twist with something strangely akin to delight.

Closer. And closer. 

You’re peaking curiously over at the clouds of steaming tendrils that waft off of the food, catching a whiff and- nose crinkling in disgust, you scamper away before Toji can even feel disappointed. 

“Yuck.”

Grumbling, “Now that was really rude.”

Well, he really didn’t know why he was so intent on befriending the cute lil’ ghost that lived in his closet attic. And he really didn’t know why he found himself trudging over to that tiny nook tucked away in his bedroom later that night, full of a microwave dinner he certainly won’t be buying again.

Blankets and flattened pillow in hand, Toji’s eyes rover for any sign of you - any. 

But, alas, as most things tend to do, it doesn’t exactly go the way he hoped.

“Hmm– no sign of her.” He murmurs underneath his breath, uncertain hands setting his impromptu bed down on the closet floor. Volume lilting just a few pitches louder in emphasis, “Guess I’ll go to sleep then.” Higher - and so does his head up into the looming darkness where you were sure to be. Slithering underneath the warm covers, “This is me now. Sleeping.”

And Toji doesn’t exactly have to pretend to fall asleep - not quite. 

Long lashes shuttering; the net of slumber casts down on him sluggishly - it’s not long before his chest grows heavier, breaths more staggered, and a heated body settles into his bed.

You. 

“Ya came back for more, huh?” His softly musing groan strikes the back of your neck like a scorching breeze, skittering such delicious goosebumps all over your body and all underneath that useless piece of cloth you called a dress. 

Making him wonder where else…

Plump, puckered lips hit the side of your throat and you shiver– hips gyrating back in a lewd figure eight to where Toji was spooning you now. 

He was so big, in every sense of the word. Chiseled washboard abs gently caressing down your arched spine in a repeated back n’ forth, every ridge massages you depravedly, the plush pillows of his pecs cushioning your back. 

When Toji’s broad arms wrap snugly around your body, so do his meaty thighs pinning you to him. Instantaneously, your head tumbles backwards with a stuttered gasp, “Please.”

And something in Toji twitches. Something in him awakes.

“Ohhhh– so ya can be nice?” He purrs, roaming over one hand in a carnal grip on the globes of your ass. He’s savoring that sweet, sweet sound of your voice begging for him and- shit, he really hadn’t dreamed of this last week. “Say it- say it f’me again like a good girl?”

“P-please.”

“Hmmm, how cute.”

The very tip of his thumb writes out a cursive Toji on the right cheek of your ass, playfully tapping its way down to cup your fluttering core. 

You were so fucking wet that the fabric of your dress was clinging between your legs in a way that made him jealous, sticky fabric seeping through with a few glistening slathers of syrupy wet slick. Practically flooding out a lil’ damp spot where his massive cock was stirring. 

“Fuck- hellooooo girls.” That hooked scar tickles down the tenderest spots of your neck to pant out humid breaths over the swell of your breasts. A viscid layer of sweat slicking up those perked nipples as you squeeze your shaky thighs and push-

Your lungs burn with a fiery need, squeezing out every ounce of air as he’s smearing his hands all over your tits. “-T-Toji.”

His name - you’d memorized his name. 

You were going to be the death of him.

And your body renders forwards, dipping the curves of your gorgeous tits further into his ready grasp. You could feel every roughened callous, every palmistry line, every grope he was relentlessly feeling all over. Feeling allll of you.

“Ngh- T-Toji.” You’re slipping out adorably, as if his name was all that you could repeat at this point. Fuzzy brain showing static at the spiking heat of this closet room-

“Yeah- Yeahh–?” It’s all you hear before his rounded digits spank down on your tits, circling out softly against where you were the most sensitive. That high-pitched wail you’re keening out is the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

Toji has the audacity to giggle, thick fingers sneaking underneath your dress to give your pebbled nipples yet another thwack! 

“Whoops.” And another. “Sorry-” Dutifully pinching the nibs of your tits as he pecks your jawline, he’s rolling his thumb right over those pointed nipples like he was milking them. “-hand slipped.”

“Y-your fingers–” And you’re choking on numerous saccharine moans when his fingerpads come slamming down once more, the stinging striking rendering your mouth waterlogged with oodles of saliva. “-so m-mean.”

Tears were practically overtaking your pretty features now - but that wasn’t the only place you were letting out sobs from.

Your inner thighs glue together with a clingy film of bawling sap out from your cunt, puffy lips so bloated n’ needy that Toji could peer down and count every sinful throb. 

“Wouldya look at that–” He’s breathing out, in such awe at the slurping slurs that were springing up from your dampened pussy. Almost as if she was squelching out in conversation, he nods, “She’s more talkative than you. This heh- turns ya on- doesn’t it, pretty lady?”

Velvety sweater skirting up, he’s dragging the thick, scratchy tufts of a black happy trail straightly down your squirming back. Pushing you against a sexily tensed core, your heart races as you could feel him harden.

“Mmm…could bury myself here forever.” His voice cracks sloppily as he cranes over to muffle the ends of that particular sentence into your heaving mounds. Musked cologne hitting your senses, filthy tongue flopping out to smack your tender areolas and draaaaag-

“Toji- Toooji–”

“Heh- m’here. Your Toji’s here, sweet thing.” He’s snarling as he bites, glistening white edges of his teeth scraping your raw flesh. Voice warbling - high, his raven lashes flap furiously to keep his vision from hazing over. “C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon don’t hide ‘em from me.”

Sensually, he’s trekking his hand near the hem of your dress and tugging down until he can fully try to suffocate himself between your pretty tits. 

Toji didn’t need fucking air - the sight of you was heavenly enough, making him buck so that the curly black hairs near his base scratch your skin and leave it stinging. 

Tongue simply ruthless, whisking out soppy dollops of spittle that drip down your nipples and purposefully make a mess. Sucking and sucking while he ruts from behind with a groan.

Messy. Toji was making sure of it.

The slimy trailway of his tongue laps and laps until your eyes are bulging halfway out of their sockets, grunting. “You got it- you got it, sugar.” He latches on hypnotically to your left nipple and gnaws a generous mouthful. “Keep up now- I bite.” 

Jaw dropped, toes curled. 

Babbling broken ohs! and Toji! your lips smack away incoherently through bouts of bubbling slobber. He’s watching with awe as your legs fall open, glue-stuck pussylips spreading wiiidely apart- 

Swallowing a leaden ball at the sheer amount of wetness you were pouring out. Bucketloads, really.

Pretty. 

Toji grabs ahold of your humping hips with a groan, pushing you all snug n’ cozy against his throbbing cock. Spying from beneath his unruly black bangs, “Would make the s-sweetest fuckin’ birthing hips, pretty lady.”

He was so…massive.

Gasping, the very action of you scrambling up onto your elbows makes your vision swim with a few blotches of black - still tingling all over with the buzz of being so close.

You’re shivering, a sudden yelp escaping your glossed lips as you nudge Toji away with something that resembled a headbutt and ran. 

Well, more like crawled with whatever strength you had left - all the way back up your safe, dark attic whilst leaving the man disoriented below. 

And it was not just because of your forehead crashing into his.

“Shiiiiit.” Toji belts out a low whistle, a hand dipping down to grab his thickened cock through his drenched-through sweats. He’s laid all out on his back now, staring up at the shuttered attic door where you’d disappeared, “I’m fucked.”

.

.

.

It was quite a change to be sleeping with a ghost - in the most literal sense, he wasn’t sleeping sleeping with a ghost.

Turning into somewhat of a routine now to find himself woken up inside the closet space with your sleeping body cuddled softly up to him - at least, until you realize and make it your mission to disappear before he can say more than a few words, that is.

You hadn’t progressed past a few cute whines n’ touches here and there, and even that was enough for Toji to lose his damn mind this past week. 

He thought of you when he cooked, he thought of you while his neighbor squawked at every glimpse of him, he thought of you in the shower - especially in the shower, in fact, with one hand wrapped around his hard fucking cock- 

-and he was thinking of you right now. 

Stood stock-still in front of one of those high-end fashion stores beaming smugly on the bustling streets of Tokyo - the exact type he’d have scoffed and turned his nose up at just a few weeks ago.

But now, Toji was turning his nose at something else - right downwards to search for a price tag on the cute pink dress that was displayed proudly in the middle of the shop window. 

It was a skimpy lil’ thing, open and stylish, the exact type he knew you’d look perfect in. The exact type you’d wear so nicely that it’d make him want want to rip it off altogether. 

The exact type that was making him gape at the sheer number of zeros on the printed price, jaw moving up and down soundlessly as he double takes - was it legal to charge this much for a fucking dress? How the hell was he supposed to even get it for y-

Wait. Toji straightens up until he’s ramrod as a pole, not even caring for the way passersby give him the dirtiest of looks as his bulky frame blocks most of the sidewalk. Why was he even thinking of buying this for you in the first place? Did ghosts even-

“Steep price eh, sonny?”

He’s turning ‘round towards the aged, grating voice of the shopkeeper who’d apparently come outside to investigate his conundrum. 

The older man smiles apologetically at him, as if he wasn’t the one that was responsible for half those prices anyway. “You know how it is with these one-of-a-kind pieces. Lowest I could put it at, of course.”

Toji nods without a word, feet itching to remove himself from this awkward situation before- 

“S’for a special lady o’ yours, isn’t it?” 

“None of your business, old man.” Toji snarls, not much bite to his words. 

Judging by the way the clerk smirks, he’d figured out that he hit the target dead-on. And the frosty cold of the city air had never bitten the tips of Toji’s ears sharper, redder. Waving a weathered hand airily, “Tell ya what- I don’t usually do this, but I’ll reserve this piece until you collect ‘nough of those salaries and buy it for ya girl. How about it?”

And usually - usually - Toji would have told the man to fuck right off with those bargains. “One-of-a-kind” his ass. 

But…his eyes drift to the gauzy, delicate dress, the way it fitted on the mannequin. And how much more gorgeous you’d look in it. Salaries, huh?

With a firm nod, and a reluctant handshake with the shopkeeper, he finds himself browsing once more through a few employment sites he’d all but cursed the name of and abandoned a few weeks ago. 

One thing at a time, Toji ponders, shuffling his phone back into his pocket, albeit with a few fresh webpages bookmarked. 

Now, back onto his mission to head to the nearest supermarket - namely the fresh produce section. 

Which…actually didn’t turn out to be as much of a wild goose chase as he expected about two hours, a pissed shop employee, and three burnt fingers later. 

Skin muggy with the stifling kitchen air, hands placed on either side of his waist in a way that reminded Toji of his mother- “So?” He grouches out, the nonchalance in his voice given away as nothing but a façade with the way his feet tap-tap-tap. “How about it? Michelin star or what?”

The subject of his attention - you, like most days recently - only scrunches your nose in distaste. A spoon filled to the brim with steaming hot miso soup inching ever-closer to your mouth with the air of a lamb being carted off to slaughter. 

And a fucking massacre it was once the taste hits your awaiting buds and you spit–

“Oi-”

“Yuck!”

So much for Michelin stars, Toji’s grumbling to himself as he takes your same spoon and savors the miso soup with tofu for himself. Face crinkling immediately like a piece of paper at the salt bomb that assaults his senses, “Too much miso.”

Well, it seems he couldn’t fault your ghostly tastebuds just yet - but in his defense, it was his first time doing anything as sensible as this!

“Pretty lady~” Toji coos out, kneeling on the frigid quilt of his kitchen tiles to bring himself eye-level with your crouched figure in the shadows. “C’mere, sorry about the miso- try the tofu.”

And it was almost…adorable how you’re tentatively skulking your way over, pretty lips pulled into a permanent pout after his mess of soup. 

As soon as you’re close enough, he’s popping a hand into one of the bowls and plucking out  a creamy wad of tofu to nudge inside your mouth; slightly mushy in his touch, but at the very least you don’t wince too much at the overdone flavor of it. 

In fact, you actually swallowed. 

“Mmm–”

Leering, “Delicious, huh?”

“No.”

“Fine then- not bad.” Cackling out a hoarse bark of laughter, amusement sets his features aglow as Toji thumbs over the stray smidgens of white that stuck to your salivating lips. Catching a few beaded droplets of soup, “Messy girl. Look at you.”

You’re whining as he smears over the sleek spillage, trickling from between your lips and down to where your see-through dress was drenched almost non-existent. 

Fuck. 

You really were messy - and it was driving him crazy.

Parched Adam’s apple bobbing up n’ down in his scratchy throat at the glistening stickiness where your tits were heaving, his strained breaths aching to match your own. Pants tightening, buzzing fingertips twitching, Toji can’t even think before he unfastens his mouth with a dry, “Let…let me try something, doll?”

Your mouth drips hot and open as soon as Toji tugs down on his snugly-fitted sweatpants until his throbbing cock proudly slaps at his tensed core. 

And when you imagined that he might be big - you didn’t think he’d be big.

Red n’ swollen, the glittering tip of his mushroom crown was sprinkling out pearly drops of pre at the sudden sting of the cold kitchen draft. Simply gaudily decorated with fatly pumping veins all ‘round his girthy sides, they slithered in a zig-zag towards the clammy tufts of his happy trail. 

Nine- maybe even ten solid inches that twitch as your glassy eyes set sight on all of him greedily. So ridiculously massive that your mouth was starting to water already.

“Just hafta watch me, pretty lady.” Toji gruffs out solemnly, one of his burly hands curling around his meaty hilt. The ridges of his teeth sink down as he bites back a simmering hiss- “Just- just–”

Trailing off into merely nothing but soft rasps as he’s starting up short, stout tugs of his painfully hard cock. Not made of rocks, but made of fucking diamonds and jolting out creamy spatters of precum with every slight squeeze.

He was teasing. Toying. Just blushing cherry red at his tip, a saccharine lil’ color that made you want to inch forwards…

“Awww- yer drooling, sweet thing.” Toji interrupts your train of thought with a cocky tilt of his head, narrowed gaze flittering down to the thin line of spit that’d started to overspill from your maw. “Heh- never seen a guy so big, huh?”

You’re shaking your head in a way that makes the man groan, and with a vulgar few flicks of his capped thumb underneath the jutting ridge of his slit, Toji shoots out his free hand. Darting, in two bats of your shocked lashes you’re registering that he’d locked one hand around your neck and was pulling you.

Unapologetically tittering, “No needa be shy now.” Closer. Closer. Faintly wondering whether ghosts could bruise, the curved margins of his nails bite down your rapid pulsation. “C’mere.”

Mewling once gusts of his bodyheat radiate in waves, making your skin prickle with cold sweat. Your spine aches with the effort of being manhandled close, “T-Toji…”

“Tha’s right, m’here.” He’s grunting from above, scarred lips pulling into a prowling snarl as he smears the tender side of his length against your cheek. Burning hot and messy, your features gleam with a sprayed sheen of sweltering pre. “S’a biiig fucking cock, huh?”

“Please-” You’re latching down onto the elastic hem of his pants, mindlessly yanking away until you could see the chubby curve of his fat breeder balls. “S-sooo big.”

“Greedy greedy.” Toji’s right hand slows down to a slooow crawl up and down his plump shaft, taking his lazy time to tug open your prettily pouted maw with his other hand. “Heh- could open that pretty mouth all wide f’me and it s-still wouldn’t fit, doll.”

With a wailing protest, you’re letting him lilt your mouth open further- and fuck, the way that pinkish tongue of yours flops out eagerly makes Toji dizzy. 

His own tastebuds flooded with a freshly scalding wave of briny spittle, just starting to threaten near the crevices of his stern lips before he cranes his head towards yours and spits. 

Splattering.

Now, Toji had good aim - perfect, actually. But where was the fun in that?

His rotund thumb swipes away a few speckles of excess, plugging the frothy remnants back between your whiny lips. The way your brows scrunch at the impact is so adorable, “Look at you- all greedy for this cock. Sooo fuckin’ wet already.”

“M’n-not…” 

Liar, your cunt seemed to throb. Legs trembling together whilst your whirling pupils followed every draaaagging stroke of Toji’s big hands, the way he’d softly caress his lengthy digits over those delicate lightning bolts of his veins. It made you clench around nothing just to imagine how they would feel inside.

You blubber out a sobbing, “T-Toji.”

“Say it- say m’name again.” Toji drawls out sluggishly. Needy. He’s spitting down his spheroid cockhead, pumping angrily. “C’mon, say it-”

“Toji-”

“Again.”

Stuttering, slobbering with every gyrating hump gifted into the heady air.

“Toji…” Your bottom lips swells with your biting nibble, “-cum f’me.”

And as soon as the axons in his body pull taut and snap, he’s scrambling up from his seated position onto his knees to push his weepy tip into your face and cum.

Alllll over your pretty face - great, dripping cobwebs of seed that make his heavy thighs shake with sheer force. Whacking his bulbously swollen tip against your lips so that the ivory topping swabs across every inch he could reach. 

Toji’s clawing on a tight hold around your neck to keep your cutely squirming self in place, his sharp hips jutting outwards in a slow gyrating pace. As if he was fucking an invisible you - envisioning it whilst his stringy bouts of sweltering hot cum dripped down your face. 

Sloppy, sloppy.

“Shiiiit, haven’t cum this hard in…” His deep bass trembles, eyes glazing over with something primal and dreamy. Practically melting for you, “...in forever.”

The fastest he’s ever had, he shakes back the red, red blush scalding his ears now- just from you and those words. You. 

You’re mewling, lapping your tongue out to taste the syrupy salted caramel flavor of his oozing sap. Lips gluing together at the thickly glutinous consistency, “Toji- cummin’ so much. Want more.”

“Shit.” Toji hisses, lurching as if he’d just been bolted with a zillion volts of electricity. Instantly, the hand at your throat adjusts you so that you’re splayed out on the kitchen floor. Pretty and slobbering with need for him.

Dewy eyes widening a significant fraction at the way his rounded capped knees settle languidly on either side of your head. He was so thick with chiseled muscles, you think you could cum alone from the way that Toji’s wrapping a hand around his hefty base and milking himself.  

Face blossomed red, black brows scrunched, a slow splashing of sweat falls onto your face once he’s squeezing his hilt with a raw squeeeelch–!

“Sh-shit, talking outta pussy when you ngh- can’t even-” Straddling you, he nibbles on the flooded inside of his cheek, whirling peripheries locked on the last few splotches of pure sinful white that cream out of his tip and frost an adhesive capping down his length.

Chest heaving, voice guttural. “-can’t even- even hck!” As he’s finishing off, he guides his length to stand side-by-side with your fucked-out face. The way he was bigger than your head. Airily musing, “-fit this.”

You can only whine in protest, “A-as if.”

“Sass.” And Toji’s overstimulated cockhead twitches once, twice as he drifts a hand over to thumb his fattened pad on a particularly knotted puddle of cum beside your cheek. Gliding it allll down your wobbly lips like a sticky lipgloss, “Damn beautiful, too.”

With a shy peck on his meaty palms, you slip away into the shadows as you usually do. And eventually he’ll find his charcoal lashes dipping lower with fatigue, skin still sizzling with you and his high and you-

“Oh? Ya also wanted a change tonight, doll?” Toji pauses, worm-patterned blanket (it was half-off, alright!) partly spread in his arms. 

Now about an hour later and back in his dingy bedroom, Toji stares with bated breath as you sneak out from the cracks of his open closet. 

It wasn’t like him to leave you all alone, but after a week of his back moaning and aching at him- well, a night away from that teensy shack you called a home wouldn’t hurt right? At least not physically, it was tough for a man his size to squeeze himself inside without any afterlife powers.

What he certainly didn’t expect was for you to move back into the proper bedroom with him.

Cuddling your back against his toned front, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Arms tight around your waist like glue, legs tangling together sweetly. Toji finds himself scoffing at the rosy heat that rises irrationally up to the tips of his ears - practically mocking him. 

“G’night, pretty lady.”

“Good night…Toji.”

Burying his face into the soft crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see his furious blush, he thinks he’s never slept more peacefully.

.

.

.

Once in a blue moon - emphasis on once in a blue moon - Toji actually begrudgingly appreciates the presence of Shiu Kong in his life. 

Sure, the man was an ass and absolutely too proud of those pencil lines he called a stache, but he was employed, at the nearby gym no less. And the best part about having a friend that was employed was that he could help Toji himself get employed. 

And it was walking back home after (completely, totally acing) his job interview as a boxing coach, swiping through the email with his advance and the request that he start next week, that Toji runs into his enigma of a neighbor. 

Ichiro…Ijishi…? Something of the sort. Running on the fumes of his good day, Toji raises his hand at the fidgety, spectacled man in greeting, “Yo- Itachi.”

Honestly, he couldn’t have looked more terrified had he been welcomed by a phantom. And Toji would know…

Jumping about a proper three feet in the air, he’s breaking out in a glittering cold sweat all over. Muttering incoherently, “I-it’s Ijichi…”

“Ah, right.” Toji grunts, shocked he even managed to squeak out enough syllables to answer him. Usual conversation was limited to running away or avoiding him altogether - though, perhaps the presence of you had something to do with that fact. Not that he was complaining though, as long as he had you.

Almost as if Ijichi had sensed his thoughts, he’s splaying his hands out in warning, “Y-you know- Toji-san, you should really be careful.”

Halting right in front of his walkway, the taller man raises a brow in questioning. This was bound to be interesting. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while but, th-they say there’s a…” Looking around, shuffling. “-g-g-ghost in that apartment, a woman who lived long ago and- d-died inside that closet. Until you, no one could live there because she would eeep! haunt them. Y-you should really be careful, Toji-san, I’ve been hearing noises from your home at the dead of night lately, too…”

Ah, your moans. He forgot he shared a bedroom wall with the other man, and you were probably louder now since you’d started sleeping in the bedroom with him.

Fingers tightening on the glossy pink shopping bag held in one hand, “S’that so? She’s really this scary ol’ ghoul then?”

“Exactly- it isn’t an o-old wives’ tale, either. Everyone’s seen it, the closet door opening at night, lights flickering, strange voices.” Dark brows furrowing, he trails off. “If you want the- the town’s exorcist, Ogami, is coming to cleanse my a-apartment tonight and has been urging me to give you her number.” 

“An exorcist.” The syllables fall flat on Toji’s tongue, “For the ghost.”

“Yes yes- that ol’ woman, ah- exorcist says that the vengeful s-spirit can attach to a human being and sap their life source, tying the ghoul to them forever-”

“I wouldn’t mind that, actually. If it was her.” 

He’s surprised to find that he means it. 

Leaving Ijichi blubbering in confusion, Toji mutters away something that hopefully sounded like a ‘thanks but no thanks.’ Easily making his way inside, the door had barely slammed closed before you were slamming into him.

Face pushing into the valley of his firm pectorals, arms dangling to reach around his neck. Your fingers tangle into the delicate waves peaking out at his nape and Toji almost purrs, tackling you equally as fervently. 

“So- dinner?”

Damn, he couldn’t even deny it anymore. Exorcism and spiritual powers his ass, you’d turned him into some sort of house-husband. 

The same thought he’s repeating again and again as he cooks up a mean omurice in that tiny kitchen of his, golden brown and perfectly crisp on the edges.

All thanks to two hours of online research and bugging Shiu - his usefulness strikes again, dammit.

Toji takes great pride in drawing a lil’ heart of ketchup on the mounded middle, like he’d heard maid cafés do. Watching as you sniff. Cautious…and then scoff it down in generous gulps. Smirking, “So…Michelin stars?”

You’re only nodding, leaning over to plant a lingering peck- “Mhm.”

“Knew it.”

You were eating something he cooked - finally, finally eating something he cooked.

Suddenly hit with remembrance, Toji reels back his body a few inches away from your proximity on the kitchen table and almost whines - what the hell have you done to him? Shuffling through the few groceries, he waves one bag tantalizingly in front of your face, “Guess what, pretty lady.”

Oh, Toji was right. 

If you asked him, he would say that he’s always right - but he was especially right in his assumption that you’d look jaw-droppingly gorgeous in that pretty pink number from the shop. 

The old man had kept his word, reserving that dress so that Toji could splurge almost all of the hefty advancement fee from that brand-spankin’ new job of his. Later that night, he sat criss-crossed on his bedroom tatami, awaiting the fashion show. Letting you waltz out of the closet, nervously donned in a gauzy layer of fabric that hugged your body just so-

“C’mere. Shit, c’mere.” Toji rasps out, one hand sliding down his face because shit- the other clamors for his phone to take a picture. He glances down at the kassha-! of the screen, jaw dropping when- “Oh, ya really are a ghost.”

You’re spying over at the photo that showed nothing - literally. Nothing but a dress floating in midair, you shrug. “Duh.”

“Well, whatever-” Toji grouches, so much for setting a picture of you as his lockscreen. More preoccupied with the success of you becoming more talkative lately, “-do ya like it, doll?”

“Mhm– like it a lot.”

“C’mere, then. We hafta celebrate.”

Ah, you had the feeling that ‘celebrate’ meant so much more right now. 

Because without warning, Toji’s roughened hand clings to the side of your waist and pulls you until you’re landing cutely to straddle his manspread lap. “Toji…”

“S’alright, sweet thing.” His familiarly heady musk and cologne invade your senses like fog, and Toji’s nose slides alllll the way up and down your gulping throat. Slowly. “M’kinda…starved.” Your hand twitches towards the hem of your dress- before Toji stops you gently. “Nah- keep it on, pretty lady.”

Oh?

Oh.

“O-oh, fuck–!” You’re squealing before long, straddling Toji’s sprawled head, the halo of his unruly bangs tickling your tender inner thighs. Laid out on the matted floors beneath you and leaving a wet peck near the sheeny splatters of slick coating your outer pussy.

Squelch after raw squelch he was ripping out of you with only a few innocent glides of his lips on your own, “No underwear? What a sweet girl ya are f’me.”

You’re gasping as his tongue swirls over a few gumdrops of escaping sap, opening his rugged maw wiiide open to let you see the way they slip n’ slide all the way down Toji’s ravenous gullet. 

“Ride. Ride my face- c’mon, ride my face like you own it.”

Hiking your newly-bought dress further up the curve of your ass, your knees ricket in tiny gyrations on top of his maw- needing more. A bullet of beaded sweat drips down your temple, “Stop- teasing, Toji.”

“Demanding now, aren’t we?” A soft spank leaves your mouth cracking with shrilling whimpers, head throwing back at the calloused drag of Toji’s fingers grabbing your ass and pushing you in deeper. A French kiss. “Let me- mm- let me taste ya first, at least.”

Oh, he was mean.

And the only thing meaner than Toji was that damn sinful mouth of his. Purposefully latchin’ his plush lips where your swollen folds were all puckered, letting your legs twitch with each vibration of his throaty groans. 

“Wanted this for so long- so long.” He’s letting his spit-glossed tongue swipe suddenly between your drooling slit, a faaaaat drag of his ridged tastebuds. “So long- n’ you’re so fucking sweet.”

“F-fuuuuck– your tongue-”

Toji snickers, hot gusts from his lungs heating your pried-apart core - his widely prolonged tongue flops out eagerly to drink up every sploshing wad of slick that trickles down from your sloppy entrance. Cock twitching at the lacquered gloss hitting his chin, “Mhm- ya like that, right? She likes that- riiight?”

You did. He didn’t even need to fucking ask - your syrup sweet liquid gluing to his tastebuds was enough of a clue. 

And Toji didn’t need another sign for his girthy tongue to inch towards your quivering hole, slithering. Sensually, so that every passing second meant you felt the grating scratch of his sensory buds. 

“Now–” His nose crinkles in excitement at the thundering sluuuuurp he hears once his mushy tip presses inside your rubbery cunt. Stretching and stretching out your tight channel with a few slashes of his muscle, “-hello to you, too, sugar.”

Was he…giving nicknames to your pussy? Your tear-trapped lashes flutter awake, “Toji- wh-what are you-”

“Shhh- s’alright, doll.” With only one of his hands locking on your waist, he’s easily hoisting you onto your knees- fuck, you didn’t even have to burden your weak limbs with your weight because he was holding you up anyway. Scar-decorated mouth murmuring, “Upsy daisy- you just keep those pretty legs wiiiide open f’me and ride, okay? M’gonna take care of you…”

Words seeping with a dangerous whisper now that he had the perfect view of your pouted pussylips, it made Toji want to lick his own lips in desperate salivation. 

Breathy, “Gonna take good- good-” Surging upwards until the tip of his high nosebridge bangs into your treacly clit. Hard. “-good care–” Tongue making a mess, humping up into the air. “-of her.”

You’re whimpering, hands bunching up into your dress to lift it higher once he brutally squeezes past your tight first ring of muscle. Enveloping eeeeevery nook and cranny inside you with his relentless tongue-

“Ngh- Toji–” Your hips restlessly roll into every barreling push of his swiping muscle, thighs flinching with every flick of his curling, dexterous crown stirrin’ your innards. Filling you up until it was maddening.

Just about all he can manage out right now, muffling a lil’ ‘mhm—?’ right when his tongue pokes into one of your earliest tender spots. Treating it like a dart board, he’s stretching his tongue as faaaar and wide as it could go to hit it repeatedly.

Vulgar. 

He’s massaging his stinging maw into your saturated pussymound over n’ over until every bit of your steaming hot slick is piled onto his lips. With a harsh grip of one of your asscheeks, and a thumb lugging lazily over your throbbing clit - Toji was sloppy.

And you were simply crying from both ends, bubbling tears clogging up your throat at the bruising pace he was making out with your honeyed cunt to. “H-how are you even- reaching-”

To Toji, it was a personal insult that you were riding his handsome face like this and still had the time to ponder your pretty head with nonsense like that. 

Well and fully intending to gnaw on your teary pussy until you were stupid, one of his free hands traverses a sneaky pathway underneath you. The thick, rounded stretch of one of his fingers circlin’ your hole making you moan. “Wh-what- hngh!”

That was more like it, he’s smirking something dark as you clamp around his bulky finger with your dripping wet core. Warm and soft. 

So soft. He really can’t help but stare down in pure awe with those sultry hazed eyes of his, watching through partly-open lids when he slaps his tongue down on your perky clit and takes the opportunity as you gasp-

“Fuck! Toji–”

-to rummage in another girthy finger, canines bared back in the tiniest of snarls while he unapologetically pumps back and forth to try and shovel them deeeeply inside. Hissing at the slight resistance, scouring fingertips scraping way inside your flooded wet depths. 

And he doesn’t know who’s louder - you or this sweet pussy of yours.

Fuck- with a joint furrow in his brow, Toji’s holding back his rasping pants in an effort to memorize every squelching noise you were letting off from between your legs. “Tha’s it- atta girl, talk t’me.”

Scissoring his knobbled digits all the way until his knuckles are striking your plump lips, lurching out filthy slurp after slurp. 

You were just too damn sexy for your own good, and before the next few whimpers of his name can formulate on your tongue, Toji spits a weighty glob of spit down your bulging slit and chases it. Like a moth drawn to flame, he’s pressing the flat of his hot tongue everywhere. 

The stray spaces where he was viciously thrusting away inside your entrance, the hood of your clit, the glittering layers of slick caking your inner thighs. 

Anywhere, in long depraved licks until your back begins to arch. Voice cracking at a lilt he found familiar, “Please- please please please m’so c-close, Toji-”

“Close, huh?”

You’re damn near falling straight onto your face if it wasn’t for the way Toji holds you up, sobbing when he only dips his fingers ever-deeper right where your nerves were on fire. Slapping a stinging bruise over the patch of your g-spot. 

“S’that r-right, sugar?” He gasps through pitched pecks, kiss after kiss of his swirling berry-pink tongue that makes your eyes twirl comically. His own thighs squeeze together, aching for any friction between, “Gonna- gonna cum? Gonna- ngh- cum on my face, sugar?”

Fuck- and every time his pearly white teeth latch on animalistically to the fleshy nub of your clit, your puffy pussy practically screams out answers. Tugging on your perked hood until drool seeps like a river from your lips. 

Both pairs, and Toji loved it. Loved what a pretty mess he could make of you. 

“S’that so? Uh uh–” He nods, and if you weren’t rendered stupidly speechless right now you might’ve just said a thing or two about the way that he was talking to your dripping cunt. “Mhm? Oh? Oh really…” Before spying over at you through lowered lashes, “Says she’s gonna heh- cum, doll.”

Almost as if he spoke it into existence, you’re hitting your high at that very moment. 

“Shit- shit shit shit m’cumming– ngh, m’cumming.”

Rolling his eyes with fondness, “Oh yeah? Give it t’me- give it all, m’fucking ngh- starving.”

“All- all.” Your voice reaches a fever pitch inside those papery-thin walls.

Vision shattering with tears, and you might not have seen the way you’d cum - what with your eyes permanently finding a home at the back of your head - but Toji certainly did. 

And fuck, he’s never wished more that ghosts could show up on camera. 

Because you weren’t just pretty when you were finally overcome with your orgasm, you were gorgeous. Toes arching cutely, mouth plastering with a fresh lipstain of moisture, throat parched over and over with the sound of his name. 

“Pretty girl.” Plopping in another finger with a wet splotchy sound to fuck you through your euphoria. His lengthy tongue aches with the slippery squeeze of your walls, grinding up with every rolling push of your hips. “Pretty pussy.”

You’re cumming and he’s tugging down his currently see-through pants to furiously pump his rock-hard length. Fucking you with his mouth the way he needed to with his bloated cock.

Your body lurches in sparking sensitivity-

Only to be hauled back down unceremoniously by his hand resting upon your throat, “Nuh uh, no runnin’ away.”

Just pouring wet, and Toji was more than happy to drink up every ounce and sappy wad. The treacly slabs of his saliva so weighty and thick that you could almost taste it on your own stinging buds.

Toji’s kiss-swollen scar smeeeears down your clit one last time n’ stays there playfully, “Heh- had my fill, pretty lady. Now about that dress…”

It’s only then that you’re gathering all your bearings enough to gaze down at your dress- well, initially supposed to be the drenched hem of your new clothes.

But instead what your eyes are drawn to was the way that big, bad Toji looked so ruined.

His sparse chest hair glinting in the dim-lighting with a lamination of fervent sweat, flushed a clammy crimson all the way down to his collarbones. And the look in his eyes- oh, Toji was drunk on all the sweet, sweet juices of your pussy. 

Half-lidded, woozy, dilated until his gaze was almost all Stygian black - he doesn’t take his stare off of you for even a second as you remove yourself with a sappy pop!

Breath hitching at the way your slick slobbered until it was dripping down his chin, creeping all the way up to Toji’s cheekbones. He grins– and you don’t think you’ve seen Toji look so accomplished, freeing you of your soaked-through dress. 

Staring at your nude figure in worship, “How about a bath. Together?”

“Mmm- that sounds…” Your sensitive eardrums crane towards a lowly incanted muttering that came from one side of Toji’s bedroom walls. “-s-sounds…”

He’s instantly raising his thick brows in confusion, brushing away a sliver of sweat away from your face. “You alright, pretty lady?”

Yes. You want to say yes, but the electrified vibrations invading your body say otherwise - and you’re staring at that particular blank wall like a deer in headlights. 

Toji couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on, following your beeline of sight towards the edges of the thin wall adjacent to you two - the same one he shared with Ijichi next-door. Ijichi who was scared of you and- oh. 

Straining his ears urgently, he’s managing to catch a few snatches of the man’s conversation from the other side-

“-s-strange noises————louder——p-please get rid of-” Overlapping with the constant utterance of something that sounded like a…mantra…

Oh, shit.

He’s snapping his head to you - faint, “No. No no no no–” Fuck, how could he forget? That ‘cleansing’- you were being exorcized in front of his very eyes.

Toji Fushiguro has never moved faster in his entire life than when pins you down on your back and plugs your ears with the knobbled globes of his digits. Blocking out that damn incantation that might have you slipping from his very fingers. 

“Don’t listen.” He rasps, watching at the twinkle gleams back in your hazy irises. Mouth crashing into yours, “Don’t listen- please, don’t listen- Stay with me, try not to think of-” But how could you not when the scratchy voice from beyond the wall only seemed to grow more determined, louder?

Shit- a distraction. He needed a distraction. 

Suddenly too aware of the way your thighs were trembling around his toned waist, your naked middle rubbed scratchily with the peeking curls of his pubes- you drown out the mantra with a moan.

Your head tilting down-

Baritone growling with a slightly dark glint, his cock sags even heavier out of his pants at your intense stare. “What do you want me to- oh.” Following your line of sight, Toji’s jade eyes twinkle. “Nasty girl.”

Oh, you had the perfect idea to ignore that damn exorcism.

The trilling mewl that escapes your lips is nothing short of music to his ears once he’s tightening his vice-like hold on you and forcing your eyes permanently onto where his big, leaking cock was pulsing for attention. 

Red and huge. 

Swollen so tautly that it was bobbing from above his waistband, the chilling bedroom air making precum weep out in stringy splatters and hit right on the bullseye of your hole sloppily. 

“So much precum…” he’s muttering to himself.

He was so ridiculously big that it made you thighs tremble - and not with fear over the happenings next door anymore, the incantations still distantly resounding.

“Take it then-” Distraction or not- this was a wet dream he’d been having ever since he moved here. He’s letting his throat tear with a primal growl, “Take it all- feel it, n’ you better only think about my fucking cock.” A lecherous idea pops into his head, “N’ you better count.”

It takes you all of one second - and two direct smacks of his fatly bludgeoning cockhead on your dripping mound for you to finally understand what he meant. Oh. 

Round and pretty, Toji’s blushing a ruby red at this strawberry divot. Plump against your puffed-up pussylips, he’s angling his hips to position the curvaceous mushroom tip against your flooded entrance. Rubbin’ up and down your slippery slit sweetly-

“Count.”

“O-one.” Your sweet voice is enunciated with a quiet whimper, watery eyes slipping down to make note of every one of his branding, mazing veins. One twisted cozily around his base, one pounding near his split-ended tip. He wanted you to count his inches. Each and every one. “Two- three.”

With a smoky moan, Toji’s throwing his crown back- forehead slicking with a thin lamination of sweat at those pretty noises drawing out of you. “Mhmmm, good girl. K-keep going.” 

Stretching you open so wiiiide, that you were temporarily stupid. His left-leaning cock was positively covered in curling veins, snagging and snagging your gummy walls they were molding to his hugely rotund circumference.

He cracks open one heavy eyelid to watch the way you gawked downwards, “Four- no, five.” One hand carefully letting go of your ears- the incantations growing fainter, he flies it down to his squelching wet length, fap! fap! fapping! it just to try and fit.

You’re pausing momentarily to ogle the flexing ripples of his working biceps. 

“Talk- fuck, talk. Could cum from just the sound of that ngh- voice of yours, pretty lady.”

“Six…”

Sploshing out a heaping pile of pre somewhere into your heated core simply by the way you talked. It pat-pat-pats down in goopy, translucent dewdrops that slither to the saccharine bottom of your pussy.

He’s twisting his fingers to scratch that carnal itch on the line between his stimulated balls, probing you with the deeply rounded underside of his crown. Deeper. Deeper. Thighs shaking, breath harrowing, ears popping- a steady line of perspiration drips down his temples at the way he touched your walls with a final, filthy vein peeking out at you from underneath. “Yeahhh–? And? C’mon l-let me in–”

You’re gasping, “Seven-”

Oh- it was almost like a countdown for Toji but in reverse.

A countdown until his sanity snapped, and he was crawling a hand midway down your tummy. The mountains of his palm massaging your front when he pumps his hips a few sultry millimeters back and pushes- 

Bottoming out.

“Ten–” Your mouth cracks open into a goopy mess as the remaining rest of his inches shovel ruthlessly inside you. Second high of the night hitting you like a truck, “Ten.”

He gasps at the way you’re cumming already. Already. 

“Ten.” Toji echoes in a slight hiccup, heftily-lidded gaze roaming over the stout hill he was drilling into you. The outline where his crowned head was smooching the mushed sponge of your cervix, digging in deep. And if he sprinkled out just a singular jetstream of cum early then- well, he was only glad that you were too fucked dumb to notice the second skin of sap cascading down your walls. 

“All the way…” He’s cooing at the way you twitch n’ whimper as he draws an invisible line up, up, up and down from the tip top of your cunt to your cylindrical bump. “-to your heart.”

Ten entire inches.

Toji starts to move in short, rapid little thrusts to batter the your cervix with a cratering circle of his cock tip. The bulging girth of his fat sides sensually giving your g-spot repeated hits, “Biiig stretch- isn’t it, pretty lady?”

“Hngh- y-yes—” You moan at the sloppy spanks, frothing out bursts of creamy buttery pre cum from the space between your puckered hole. Still oh-so-gone with the embers of your last orgasm.

Gasping, when his crownhead slopes in and out minutely - he’s so damn big that even that makes your hips thrash stupidly. 

“Now now, what did I hah- tell ya about that damn f-fucking runnin’.” Toji grunts, watching as your folds throb palpably. Pinning you down with the ridges of his chiselled abs, one hand pulls you to him by your hips. “Won’t let you run. Breathe girl- breeeeathe n’ take it all.”

“B-breathe-” But it was so difficult considering how every mushy bump of his pulsating cock left you gasping for air. Lungs burning with strain-

He’s pinching your flared nostrils and blubbering out a drunken giggle, watching the way your shrieks lilt cutely higher. “See-” Your ears pop! “-see how much better it is when ya ngh- breathe? So take it like a good girl n’ ngh- say it with me, ‘biiig stretch.’”

Folding you like a lawnchair until until your chin hits the jiggling mounds of your tits, you stare dazedly at the way Toji’s eyes flit down to your gulping pussy and dilates. “B-big-”

“No no—” He starts driving into you with thorough, solid inches, reaching tender spots you didn’t even know existed. And you’re ringing the four walls of the room with your trilling wails, “S’a biiig stretch- not a ‘big’ stretch-” Finally cautious enough to dart his second hand down to roll your cloying clit, “-isn’t that right, sugar?”

It was apparent he wasn’t even talking to you anymore, watching your cutely contorting expression as Toji slouches his knees and pushes and pushes.

“Yes- yes yes yes yes–” Your ass stings with the ferocity of his strikes, and Toji’s toned pelvis was already starting to redden with the slamming impact. Babbling, “S’a biiig stretch- a biiig stretch.”

Sleazing a scarred grin when your capped knees start trembling, “Yeah- yeahhh atta girl. My poor baby needs a hah-hand?”

With a ricketing creak–! of your poor knees, you’re being pressed into the sloppiest mating press possible. Your heels digging bruises on his proud shoulder muscles, instinctively clenching ‘round his bustling length. “O-oh my god- fuuuck, Toji-”

“Oh…so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ pretty…” He’s breathing out in a quiet huff that hits your mouth, hungrily lapping up the few stray drops of saliva that string out from your parted lips. Toji’s intense gaze is so adoring that your skin prickles with goosebumps, “Makes me wanna…wanna ngh-”

“Wh-what–?” Your head tumbles back into the scratchy surface of the tatami, urging an answer. 

And oh, Toji’s only pounding you harder into the ground in response. Again and again and again until your legs are numb.

Striking your throbbing g-spot with a dead-on whack, whack, whack. So hard that every ramming jackhammer from the curving mound of his red-tipped cockhead to his hilt makes the floorboards tremble. 

Feverish. Desperate. 

A pornographic groan breaking off from him, “Wanna- wanna ngh- cum inside. Wanna breed this pretty pussy.”

Oh, it’s like something had snapped inside of him. Every gobbling inch vigorous.

Toji’s trembling, thighs jolting- ramming into you so hard that your brain was all stupid with static electricity. And the only thing you could think to do at this very moment was stick your face into his clammy crook and whine- “Please- inside. All inside, Toji.”

“Fuh-fuuuck–”

With those words in mind he’s collapsing his sculptured body on top of yours as if he was shattering, and you’re catching sight of his rounded ballsack flinching dangerously at your targeted words.

Sucking his velveteen lips back into his teeth, one hand twisting on top of your crowned, sweat-matted head to push you down. “I-I’ll pump you so full of hah- cum that you won’t be able to keep it all inside you.” The other twisting on your clit, “Gonna breed you right, sugar.”

And you don’t know who cums first - but it makes you sob.

Your eyes turning pure white as his cock searches deep, deep, deeply to hit the back of your pussy with ribbony knots of cum. 

It’s so wet down under, so much seed being pumped into you - just about two or three thick wires glueing to your insides with each passing second - that you’re flooding out. Great, heaping torrents he mercilessly thrusts into you after every one of your high peaks. 

“Cum- cum- cum a lot.” Toji gravels out into your buzzing ear, pinching your fragile clit until you’re shattering underneath him. Faster. “Cum. Get- get pregnant with my ngh- child.”

You bawl out belatedly, “Cumming– cumming, Toji- don’t m-miss…” 

“Never, pretty lady.” He’s biting down on your lollling bottom lip, larynx scratching with grunt after grunt with every hit. Every plummet of his plummy, cum-candied cockhead turning your brain into melted mush. “Gonna get you pregnant- get-”

Two knobbled fingerpads dip down to plug your leaking hole back full with the glittering globs of cum spilling out of you. 

Scarred lips curving into a smile, crazed. “Get pregnant- get–” With a final few slams, he’d milked himself dry and was still aching for more. Pressing down on your bloated tummy bulge of cum, “Ohhh look at th-that, all mixin’ together. All yours.”

You wince, your heart thundering at the way he was making even more of a mess down there to meanly push back into you.

And every lazy, directed pound leaves you gasping for air– Looking down at the dolloping cream, you’re mumbling out a fatigued, “M-mine?”

“That’s right, doll.” 

Heart racing, the lights flicker as your spectral powers yield out- and you’d already known that Toji was the only one you’d tie your soul to this way, till the ends of time - immortality for him.

But now was the moment - that burning question finally on your tongue. 

“Be mine?”

He leaves a slight smack at the adhesive sheen overtaking your thighs and makes you shake. Eyes half-shuttered, blush burning, maw drooling– Toji throws his head back as his aching tip twitches wildly for a second round. “All yours.”

.

.

.

And it was by the time that your second round turned to thirds, your thirds into fourths- fifths, sixths, fuck- Toji couldn’t even keep track.

It might as well have been a draw.

The only thing he could register was the yolky light of dawn filtering through the windows, and the way that every inch of the bedroom was a mess beyond recognition.

A few holes were made in the neat tatami, his bed broken into splintering pieces, desk shattered. 

He now had himself pushed back into the cool wall of the snug closet, restless lower half papping up where your hips were straddling his. Ruined. Toji creeps a hand down the humid skin of your spine and pants, “So f-fucking wet, s’like a damn ngh- water…park…”

His sluggish eyes flap and fight to stay open, words sluuurring - and so do his hips. 

“T-Toooji—” You drag out like a broken record, your hands resting precariously on his bulky deltoids. Scrambling to swivel n’ swivel in lazy hearts and circles, drool dripping out of you like a waterfall from both ends. “More- ngh moooore.”

“Holy shit- what sorta s-stamina, doll-”

Though, he really wasn’t complaining. Not when Toji lets his sweat-dropped head hit the back of the wall with a gruff call of your name, aching red cock loading out just a few more wispy strings of sap.

“Yours. Yours yours yours-” He whimpers- whimpers. Head spinning once you’re huffing out a pout and swerving your hips in a sexy figure eight, bouncing ever-so-slightly to milk him dry. “Stainin’ me all nghhh- white n’ creamy.”

A soft spank on the tippy-top of your clit makes you see stars - cheek nuzzling his own and Toji thinks it’s so cute. 

“C-cute?”

Oh, shit, did he say that out loud?

Judging by the twitching corners of your lips, he’d said that part out loud, too. “Mhm– k-keepin’ me hostage. Squeeze me like that n’ I’ll- ohhh- one hell of a ngh- woman.”

By this point, the inflated bulge at your tummy was jiggling with each plap! of skin stickily slamming down onto skin. You’re whimpering as you start veering into fatigued grinds instead, scraping the outside of your clit down on his drenched happy trail.

“Tha’s right- fuuuuck, gimme those h-hips- those damn birthin’ hips, my lady.” His vision muddles with a few tears, and Toji has to grasp your neck to keep guidin’ your cunt to that pinpointed target of his tender inches. Big, fat cock sending shots of electricity darting along his veins, “Squeeze me t-tighter.” Fingers getting tighter, “Tighter- c’mon g-grind those ngh- pretty hips a lil’ bit.”

“L-like this–?” 

He’s using up all his strength to bounce his knees - heart stuttering just as much as his words were. Toji could barely feel his spasming pink tip, “Back and f-forth- back n’ forth back n’ forth–”

You’re letting yourself be manhandled like some glorified doll, your slurping walls sucking the soul out of him with every swash of that weighty cum jostling inside of you. “P-please.”

Ah, and that was all it took a thoroughly overstimulated Toji to keen out yet another wringing orgasm. Though, this time filling your swampy cunt up with nothing but a few twitches and jolts, he’s cumming dry– still fucking up into you like he was pumping you with severe bouts of seed.

“Pregnant-” He’s rasping out mindlessly, parched. “Preg- ngh! Gonna breed you all pregnant, sugar…” The syllables tumbling out like a babbling mantra. 

And that was when the final shreds of his rationality spark, tear-polished lashes fluttering as he listens intently beyond your four walls. Only to discover…nothing.

No mantras.

No exorcism.

Nothing taking you away from him.

“Scared off, huh?” Toji catches your eye and smirks, “Hope they heard.”

You giggle, “You’re a sick man.”

“M’your sick man.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[ipushhimback]

wife, actually

pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: none, this is pure fluff words: 600

summary: who would have guessed why lando hasn’t been active on social media the entire off season…

It was the first interview Lando gave in 2025. Over the off season he hadn’t been active on social media at all, and the fans already started to be confused.

„So, Lando. What do you wish for this season?“

„Well of course winning the WDC this year. I got really close last year and was really sad and mad at myself when i didn’t make it.“ Lando looked around the room that was full of reporters and fans. 

But then his eyes found you. He smiled at you which made his eyes glow.

„But you were still really focused in the last races. Managed finishing P1 in Abu Dhabi which secure you the win of the WCC for McLaren in over two decades. How did you do that?“, the reporter asked. 

„I just focused on not letting the team down and it helped to be around people who are important to me and helped me stay focused and not get distracted by being mad at myself for not winning the driver‘s championship.“

The reporter nodded.

„So your girlfriend was with you the whole time? Was she the one who helped you?“

Lando grinned even more when he looked at you and saw you giving a small nod.

„Wife, actually. We got married during off season. That’s why we weren’t active on social media over the last couple months. We just wanted to spend some time together and enjoy being a married couple. But to answer your question, yes. She was the person who was there for me and made sure i didn’t lose focus or freak out.“

You smiled at Lando. You both hadn’t exactly planned on telling everyone yet that you were married but this was the perfect situation for Lando. He just had to tell everyone that you were now officially his wife. That you were now carrying his last name.

“Oh? That’s great! Congratulations! When did you propose to her? I can’t believe the fans didn’t notice”, the reporter asked surprised.

“Well actually it was during off season but we didn’t want to wait any longer so when we were drunk we flew to Vegas and well… we came home married”, Lando laughed nervously. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic story to tell but he didn’t really care. It was his and his wife’s story which made it extremely special.

“Well. Again, congratulations you two.”

Lando was asked a couple more questions before being able to leave and go to his wife.

“I thought you didn’t want to tell everyone yet?”, you teased Lando as he ran towards you.

“Well, he said you were my girlfriend. I just had to correct him, didn’t I?” Your husband leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

“You really didn’t have to tell them we got married in Vegas… it is embarrassing.” You buried your face in Lando’s chest.

“No, baby. It is not embarrassing. It is cute! It just means we love each other so much we couldn’t wait to be married. You are now Mrs. Lando Norris. Isn’t that cool.” Lando looked at you with that wide grin that made you fall in love with him when you first saw him.

“It is. I am the luckiest woman in the world thanks to that.” You grinned back at him and got on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“And also we will soon have to tell that story to our little one, right?” Lando placed his hands on your belly.

“Yes. I guess we will”, you said smiling. “I still want that wedding party though. I really wanna wear a white dress and have cake. A big cake.”

A/N: I am sick so you only get a small fic today <3 thanks for liking my stuff

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r

[prosypepper]

“roomates” with satoru gojo

 this is part five of my kinktober event!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nsfw, roomate au, fingering, gojo has a nasty mouth, pwp!, virgin reader, overstim. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love the idea of actor and roomate gojo so much,,, may talk about it later. uploading early again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

having the satoru gojo as your roommate is quite the experience.

it was odd—

you had known satoru in college, always somehow getting stuck in the same overflow housing on campus. you had gotten to know each other well, being forced to live with the other off and on. after he had gotten his degree in drama—and you got your degree in a successful STEM major—he proposed moving in together. you needed a place off campus, and he needed someone to room with, because rent was too high for him to afford on his own as a budding actor.

things were fine for a while, daily routines consisted of seeing one another regularly. but then satoru had his first big gig. he disappeared for months, needed for a last minute replacement. he told you about the role; a younger version of a strong—no, the strongest—sorcerer. apparently, he got to play his part in a dramatic friendship breakup, which you figured perfectly suited the way satoru acted normally.

his fame quickly rose, with the series being released only a few months later. after that, satoru never really came around all that often; you saw him maybe twice a month, if you got lucky. but even after that, satoru stayed in the apartment. you didn’t mind, honestly, he kept up with his side of the rent plus some.

but the really odd part?

your social media feed.

every social wouldn’t shut up about him—“upcoming star, satoru gojo makes an impact in new tv series,” “he’s so hot, i’d let him do whatever he wanted,” “I NEED HIM,”

and yeah, maybe curiosity got the best of you when you searched up the fanfiction—but hey, people seemed like they would kill to be in your position. the creative minds of those online made you see your goofy, struggling artist of a roommate in a different light. the way they wrote about his chest, and how smooth and toned it is, or his sparkly blue eyes and how they could make clothes fall of with just a look. recently, satoru had shared in an interview his fingers are 6 inches, and boy did people go feral over that.

they focused on every part. his soft fingertips, and how lengthy his fingers actually are the more you look at them. the subtle veins that ran over the back of his hand and up his arm. his middle and ring finger, how nicely they slide in and out, hitting that spot, coaxing you toward—

“whatcha readin’?”

the abrupt question shocks you out of your trance, making you yelp and practically throw your phone across the room. it lands face down beside your vanity, earning a loud thud when it hits the floor. your heart speeds up as you turn to face your roommate, internal temperature rapidly rising.

“jesus, satoru! what are you doing home?” you ask, praying that he wouldn’t take it upon himself to grab your phone for you.

“it’s my apartment, too, y’know,” he retorts, throwing his hands on his hips dramatically. “i’m gonna be here for a few days, if you don’t mind.” every word off his tongue is laced in sarcasm. it’s annoying.

and just as you try to reply, gojo swoops to the other side of the room to grab your phone, intently staring at the screen before you can even say, “stop!” you want to run away because you just know he’s reading pure filth about himself that you looked up. but you find yourself unable to move whatsoever, only able to watch in horror as your roommate reads fanfiction about himself. immediately, a sly grin overcomes satoru’s expression, and his eyes flicker from the phone to you over his sunglasses.

“this is pretty detailed stuff,” satoru teases. you’re able to tell he is in fact reading whatever you had pulled up on your phone, because he’s taking his sweet time scrolling and reading through all the divine things said about his hands.

“stop, satoru,” you whine, pathetically reaching for your phone. gojo holds it out of your reach, of course, and even though you almost came to grab your phone that was almost touching the ceiling, you can’t quite reach it. “please just go away,” you sigh, giving up and flopping back down on your mattress. you can only look on, still mortified, as satoru continues scrolling.

after a few heavy minutes and some more comments on your choice of fiction to read, he throws your phone back on the bed next to you, placing his hands on his hips once more.

“how long were you gonna keep that from me?”

“never really planned on telling you, satoru. leave me alone.” you reply, grabbing your phone so it’s out of gojo’s reach.

“you could’ve just asked—,”

“go away—huh?” you furrow your brows and look at the taller man, who’s sassily posed next to your bed, “don’t fuck with me like that.”

“i’m not.” he assures you.

satoru wasn’t joking. in fact, he had never been more serious in his life. he’d always thought you were pretty – more like drop dead, breathtakingly beautiful – but never mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. you were his friend, his roommate. he didn’t want to scare you off. but all chances of him not scaring you off were thrown out the window because he knew you wanted him now.

so, yes, he did what he did with every other girl—encouraging a hot make-out session after you got over the embarrassment of what was on your phone. you hadn’t had a chance to think about all those stories you read online, because it was all happening to you in real time.

with your lips in a permanent lock, satoru takes his time rubbing his hands all over your body, grabbing your waist, flipping up the skirt you had worn in the previous hours to run errands—

“wait,” you labored out, breathing heavy as you pushed your roommate’s shoulders away from you, “i’ve never—i haven’t…” your words are tripping over themselves into silence as you try to explain to your – gorgeous, famous, actor – roommate that you’re a virgin.

queue satoru’s head almost exploding. he swears then and there that his nose should’ve started to bleed, and his face turned an awful shade of red at the news. it was unfathomable in his mind that you, his smoking-hot roommate, was a virgin. he swore he saw you come home with your ex-boyfriend plenty of times…but maybe you were saving yourself, or something.

“stop looking at me like that. you were a virgin too.” you scoff at his ogling, crossing your arms over your chest. you’re still trapped against your headboard, the sheer size of satoru making you stay in one place. your legs are draped over his thighs, not quite straddling but close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off of your clothed pussy.

“do you want me to finger you?”

the crude question rolls off his tongue with ease, and you smack his shoulder with the palm of your hand in return. but again, he’s being serious. it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s being serious, he wants to finger you and it’s written all over his face.

after a few moments and shocked blinks, you nod your head.

satoru’s nosebleed actually happens whenever he gets you in position; you’re laid back with your legs on top of his, knees pressing into his waist. he just stares in utter disbelief at how cute and sexy you look, flustered all because of him. he runs the pad of his thumb over the mound in your panties, relishing in how soft, warm and damp you are. he can’t take his eyes away from how his thumb presses into the flesh, pushing down just to watch how his thumb gets swallowed by it.

“satoru—your nose is bleeding,” you gruffly state, snapping the white-haired man back to reality. one hand stays pressed to you while he lifts the other one to wipe under his nose with the back of his wrist.

low and behold, a few droplets of blood smear on the back of his wrist—but he’s too entranced by you to care. he looks back in your eyes, wiping his face with his shirt grossly.

“i’m okay—can i take them off?” satoru asks, almost politely if he wasn’t bleeding from the nose at how horny he is. his fingers hook into the waistband, eagerly awaiting your nervous little nod that you give him. he rips the thin fabric off your legs, taking it upon himself to lift you up and move your legs so he can toss your panties to the side of the room.

your immediate response is to snap your thighs together, but satoru quickly stops you and holds your legs open, forcing you to show your most intimate area to him. he drools over how pretty it looks, folds spread open and glistening, a perfect display of anatomy. he’s in love with the view alone. a prominent tent pokes in his sweatpants, but he ignores the feeling to focus on the task at hand.

“stop staring,” you meekly speak up, eyes looking anywhere else but at your celebrity roommate.

satoru’s bright irises look up at you before asking, “can i?” with the looks of a child begging for a piece of candy. after another quick, nervous nod, satoru swipes his thumb over your hole, then all the way up to over your clit. the sensation makes you wriggle and gasp, it’s odd being touched by someone else—but it feels good, even better than alone. natural lubrication practically drips off your pussy, so prettily, and satoru continues dragging his thumb up and down, paying close attention to how you whimper or move around when he gets to the bundle of nerves poking out.

you feel particularly needy at his ministrations, they’re so slow and it leaves you aching for more when he moves to less sensitive parts of your cunt. every time your eyes flash to gojo, he’s completely locked on what’s between your plush thighs, making you all the more embarrassed. embarrassment is thrown away, though, when his middle and ring fingers close together and creep up to slowly rub your clit.

your body jolts and satoru silently giggles, god, you’re so sensitive for him, he might go insane. he finds it simply endearing how well you react to him. each small circle he draws over your bud makes your thighs twitch and hole clench, and from his view, he can see it all perfectly. satoru’s eyes look up at you for once, just to see your head thrown back on the pillow and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to silence yourself.

“don’t be quiet, babe,” he says, and your eyes snap open to be brought back to reality.

“wh—uuht?” you drawl, mind hazy and foggy from just the little bit of pleasure he was providing. but as your mouth is open, he speeds his fingers up, forcing you to practically yell out, “satoru—wait!”

“i wanna hear you,” gojo taunts, his voice light and happy, not at all giving the impression he was playing with your cunt.

he does not wait, or slow down, he only continues to quicken the pace of which his fingers circle your clit. he feels accomplished when you finally begin to let out little moans and suck in air through your teeth, knowing the feeling of his finger pads was becoming all too much. this was the type of thing he lived for—making cute, inexperienced girls (you) lose their mind from pleasure.

it’s the type of pleasure that you weren’t able to achieve yourself; it made the bottoms of your feet tingle, and your legs move on their own—and the familiar feeling of an orgasm was quickly building up. the knot in your lower abdomen grows tighter and more intense, making you whine and thrash below your roommate.

satoru’s other hand comes down to prod his index finger at your tight hole, an unfamiliar feeling to you—especially as it’s being done by someone else. he pushes his finger in, causing another yelp to come from the back of your throat—but it doesn’t hurt. gently fucking you with just the tip of his finger, satoru’s hand focused on your clit speeds up more.

“mm—satoru, think i’m close,” your words are rushed as you warn him, but his movements don’t falter in the slightest.

“yeah? gonna cum on my fingers?” he teases, “gonna cream all my hand?”—and if you weren’t already so close, you would’ve kicked him out at the taunting. instead, you throw your arms over your face and try your best to hold back the feeling—wanting it to last as long as possible. he slowly pushes his finger in more and more, gradually coming to fuck you with one thin, long finger. the first bit he’s fully inside, it’s uncomfortable, but the pressure fades the more he plays with you. the bubble of your orgasm grows and grows until you’re about to topple over the edge.

“i’m gonna cum,” the words come out your mouth in a long, sultry string— satoru’s never heard anyone sound so good while telling him that.

“yeah, that’s it—come on, baby,” satoru encourages you, his voice having dropped multiple octaves to sound a million times more sexy — far from the satoru you’d come to know. his words force the orgasm to crash over you, your body continually jolting and stuttering—beginning to fight satoru because he doesn’t stop.

“i—i finished—stop, satoru—ohmygod—,” you stutter out, and satoru presses his elbows against your thigh, rendering you immobile.

“you’re so sensitive, princess,” satoru teases again, and you catch his eyes in a downright primal stare,

“gonna make you cum on my fingers again, baby.”

[hcsiqs]

TALK TOO MUCH— paige bueckers x famous!reader

༊*·˚ summary: while doing the wired autocomplete interview, you reveal your celebrity crush to be the famous athlete, Paige Bueckers

༊*·˚ warnings: use of y/n, reader is close friends with renee rapp

༊*·˚ author's note: and after months away...here i am so it might be a little rusty my bad yall

You sat down in the chair that was placed perfectly in back center of the all-white room you had just arrived in a few moments prior. Your makeup artist and hair stylist both came up and made some quick fixes before giving a nod to the crew behind the camera that you were ready.

You sat in the chair with your arms resting against the arms of the chairs as the director gave you the cue to start, "Hi guys! It's Y/N Y/L/N, and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview" you beamed at the camera doing a small wave. You were then handed a card that was made to look like a Google search bar with questions, with certain parts being blocked out by a white piece of paper.

The first board was questions mostly about where you grew up and how you got your start in music, some even asking about your hometown friends. Two boards later you were handed one that had most questions starting with "who".

You held up the board to the camera as you pealed the first question up, "Who is Y/N Y/L/N's inspiration?" you read out loud before tapping your finger against your lips. "I don't know exactly. I feel like I get inspiration for my music from a lot of different artists, but also from the place I grew up and the people I grew up with" you told the camera truthfully, "But, I have really been loving Renee Rapp right now" you smiled, giving your closest friend a small shoutout.

You continued answering a few more questions before peeling the last one off, reading it as you went, "Who is Y/N Y/L/N's celebrity crush?" you read out before slapping your hand to your face and shaking your head no. "Oh Gosh," you laughed softly as your face warmed, the crew behind the camera laughing with you.

"Wow you guys really wanna know my dark secrets" you smiled as you tossed the board off to the side. You bit down on your bottom lip, as you tilted your head side to side, debating if you should tell the entire internet you your celebrity crush was.

Ultimately, you decided that since you were an artist and she was an athlete there was no way your fans crossed between you two, and there was absolutely no way she knew who you were and would see this interview.

"Ugh, okay, okay, I'll tell y'all," you said, covering your face with your hands for a second to calm yourself before letting a small smile fall on your lips as you remove your hands from your face. "Paige Bueckers," you smiled, tilting your head slightly, "And do not tell her! Or I'll like die," you laughed, pointing your finger at the camera.

You finished out the next few boards, cracking jokes, or sometimes leaving answers your fans would have to dissect to figure out your true answer, but soon enough the interview finished and you thanked the crew and said your goodbyes before heading home.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Several weeks passed and you had completely forgotten about your little mention of the star athlete in the video until you were scrolling on TikTok. An edit of the blonde popped up, but much to your shock the intro was a clip of you from the WIRED video talking about the girl before it cut to several velocity-style clips of her, with one of your songs playing in the background. Your eyes then wandered down to the caption which read, "y/n is so real for that" followed by several hashtags.

You then let your curiosity get the best of you as you opened the comments to see what people were saying, some nice and some not so much.

BRO NOT MY FAVS COLLIDING

paige has got to see this

Yall we just lost Paige to whoever this is

not her shooting her shot...and its def not gonna go in

need them together actually

PLEASE never media train her

You couldn't help but scroll in the comments for what seemed like forever before the notification fell from the top of your screen as your phone vibrated lightly. It read with Renee's name at the top with the small phone symbol beside it, you clicked the small answer button and answered the phone, the sound of the girl on the other side dying laughing cutting through.

"Bitch there is no fucking way!" Renee cackled, and you could hear her hitting the couch between each of her words. "Oh My God, I love you so much baby, but exposing yourself like that is crazy work," she spoke into the phone, her laughter dying down.

You groaned, mentally smacking yourself, "I don't even know why I said it! Shit, what if she sees it and thinks I'm some fucking weirdo..." you rambled, before the girl on the other side of the line cut you off.

"Chill. She's not gonna think you're a weirdo," she said, attempting to calm your nerves. "She has like thousands of random ass people talking about her all the time, you're fine."

"Why did no one shut me up," you said, pacing around your living room before feeling your phone buzz with the name paigebueckers appearing in the notification. "She just dmed me," your mouth dropped open as you told your best friend as she encouraged you to open it.

paigebueckers Soooo someone told me about your crush. But like don't die though

You opened up the message and started typing out your apology as quickly as you could.

ynyln omg im so sorry!! i literally didn't think you'd see it and completely forgot i said it after i finished the thing

paigebueckers You're good 🤣

paigebueckers I’ll always take a compliment from a pretty girl

And with that message, you practically launched your face into one of the pillows on the couch as you felt the blood rush to your cheeks and your body went warm.

ynyln oh godddd stopppp😭😭

[miyaz6ki]

can i request sucking off modern streamer kinich while he’s live? ;3

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა if it's not you !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. when you both miss each other so much, you'll show that it's not mualani he's dating.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. kinich x gn!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. hello disciples (sharks), i'm today here vlog with everyone (will be writing a lot today n tomorrw i suppose)

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, sucking kinich off, kind of subby!kinich, but he's more of a switch

part 2 here :)

kinich isn't necessarily lively on his streams, but he gets many swoon with his looks, blunt attitude, and sarcastic humor.

often collabing with another streamer; mualani. people often suspect he'd been dating her, their personalities definitely contrasted well.

but the issues only worsened when she came over to his place.

people in his chat always asked "who's the one sitting in the beanbag?!" "is it mualani?!" "oh my gosh he has a partner!!"

he always had ignored them, they didn't really need to know about you yet anyway.

but days pass, and the rumor continues to frequent his chat, especially today's. he couldn't ignore it this time.. the only messages he'd see were asking if him and mualani got together yet.

even the donations were non-stop with the questions. so he decided just to end stream early, the last of us could wait 'till tomorrow anyway.

when he hops into bed with you, he simply buried his head in your chest.

"something wrong, kin'?" you wrap your arms around his back, holding him closer into your warmth. "nothin'. let's sleep."

the next day felt extra lonely, your boyfriend had left for an event, visiting it with none other than mualani. hm.. you couldn't help but be a little jealous, but you did enjoy the silent life, even with your pretty boy being live all the time, you appreciated that he still kept you private, and away from attention.

but at the same time, you wished everyone knew it was you, not mualani. even mualani cheered for you guys! she always denied dating kinich in public eye, but kinich never gave an answer.

so the public took it two different ways; he isn't dating, and he's not confirming it but is dating mualani. they never thought there might be an option outside of it! how damn cruel!!

"so are you dating popular streamer, mualani?!" an interviewer almost shoves the mic up to his mouth. he simply looks around awkwardly, and leaves, he wants to get home as soon as possible. get some rest before the demon hours of streaming begin.

i guess all the missing went elsewhere, down onto his cock of course. it was almost time for him to stream, but he hasn't finished letting you cum for the sixth time yet! fuck..

you offer to suck him off from underneath, so what can he do? he's just a man! (he denied it at first, like a ton of times before reluctantly agreeing.)

he could feel the way your head bobbed down each time, taking his shaft into your throat so well, oh sshit don't gag on him like that, he might cum right in front of the viewers!!

"hnngh- pretty don't choke on it like that.. mmf-" he quickly mutes his mic to take a breather before going on with the next phase of the quest.

bucking his hips into your mouth, he could feel his orgasm build up like blocks. you could feel a grasp of your hair from behind, it was his hand, and he faced his camera away from view.

he bucks his own hips into your throat, oh fuck, don't tease his tip like that while you stroke his cock!! (he wants more)

the more you moaned- it sent vibrations down into the base of his cock, he groaned suddenly arching his back, a blissful hum comes from your mouth once more.

the lustful eye contact you gave him was his last straw, holding on to your other hand that held his he came into your mouth, loudly whining, you show your mouth off to him as you stand up from your original spot underneath the gaming setup; swallowing every last drop of his semen.

his lips eager to reach yours, he kisses you; tasting the saltiness mixed with the taste of your mouth, it was euphoria. everything he could ever ask for. he couldn't wait to show his viewers the ring on your finger after he'll propose tomorrow.

i'll write fluff part 2 of this soon :)

[earthisnice]

The Secretary's Surprise

Male reader x Kep1er Xiaoting

this is my first time writing so I don't proofread, my bad. Anyways, enjoy

you wake up early today because you must interview some new intern later, even though you are the owner, sometimes you interview them to know who will be your employee. you get up from your bed and make a coffee in the kitchen and go the balcony enjoy the coffee and the view from your apartment. today's weather is so nice, you can see the view clearer than other day while slurping your hot coffee slowly not realizing you are late actually. you take your phone and send message Kim, your HRD to start interview first because you will come late. After sending a message to him, you take a shower and get ready to go.

on your way to the office, you stroll and enjoy the view and fresh air but suddenly someone crashes into you from behind and makes you fall on your face. you try to sit down and face up to see who crashed on you. She is beautiful you thought then she screamed when she looked at you

"It's blood !!" and she rushed to you gave a tissue and apologized to you.

"sorry i crashes into you because i was in a hurry to the office for a job interview" she said while bowed to me many times.

"it's okay, careful next time. okay?" you replied and then helped her tidy up her belongings that fell after she bumped into you earlier.

"where will you have a job interview?" you asked her.

"it's DP company" she said.

you hide your shock while helped tidying her fallen belonging because she will do the job interview at your company and not telling her that you are the owner.

"ah it's a big company, right? why do you want to work there… sorry who is your name?" you asked

"i'm xiaoting" she replied.

"ah i see, xiaoting. it's beautiful name. so why you want to work at DP company?" you asked her once again.

"it's my dream to work there since my college life, i study hard so i can reach my dream there" she said reminiscing her dream then the reality slapped her that she already late to the job interview

"i go first and i'm sorry once again crashes you" she continued and bowed to you for one last time.

finally you arrive at your office and you got bombarded by question from your employees because a tissue plugged in your nose

"Y/N, why are your nose bleeding?!?" they asked.

"ahhh it's nothing, i got tripped and fall down" you replied

"Which room is the place for job interviews?" you continued

"it's on the third floor, for accounting team's room" they replied

"ah okay, thanks" you replied again then go to the third floor and stepped into the room when xiaoting interviewed, her eyes widen and confused why are you there in the same room.

"Oh, Xiaoting is being interviewed now? Just accept her to work here, no need for interview further" you said ordering Kim.

"do you know her boss?" he asked

"yes, i met her when i collided with her earlier" you replied

then Kim explained who you are to her, that you are the owner of the company.

"ah.. 1 more question xiaoting, which department do you applied again?" you asked her.

"i applied for accounting department and secretary.." she answered

"okay good, be my secretary then. you can work now, can you?" you cut her.

"yes i can, sir" she answered.

"okay let's go then" you command her to follow you

"you can continue the interview for accounting department" you said to Kim and he nodded.

you walked out from the interview room and lead xiaoting to her office room

"Y/N, i'm sorry that i don't noticed you earlier and sorry for made your nose bleeding too", she said while bowed again.

"heyyy.. it's nothing don't blamed yourself like that, and i can see your passion for the work and have a great attitude too. if not, you already leaving me there bleeding" i laughed changing the subject.

"by the way, how old are you now, Xiaoting?" you asked her,

"i'm 25 now, sir" she replied.

"heyy.. the different not that much, i'm 29. you can drop the honorifics, because we met casually" you said.

"here.. you can work here, this is your office room. you know what secretary do, right?" you showed her office room and give her a deskjob then she nodded.

"if there is anything you don't understand, you can come to my room to ask, okay" you continued as she nodded again.

day to weeks you work tandem with her, she is excellent with what her doing. you never expected found someone with talent to be your secretary like her. today is like another day you work with her while she mention your next schedule.

"okay, thanks for the info, ting" you said.

you go out for the meeting with your client and she stay at the office because you command her. you done meeting with lient before lunch then heading back to your office. after you arrived at office, you are not heading to your office room but her office room. you opened the door and it made her jolted in surprise

"oh, sorry to surprise you hehe" you giggled.

"want to lunch together?" you asked her and she nodded.

"how is the job? do you like it? does it meet your expectations when you dream of working in my company?" you bombarded her with questions.

"can you asked one by one?" she said chuckled.

"oh my bad hehe" you chuckle replied her.

"the job is best for me, it absolutely meet my expectation i dreamed of" she answered,

"it's relieving , i put you in the right job" you replied.

"by the way, tonight you will no have any schedule, sir" she said.

"okay thank you for the info, you can go home early too. hey, remember to drop honorifics when meet me?" you said, she nodded smile.

the night has come when you packing to go home early but something make you to work overtime because of your client request, you sighed of it. then, someone knocking your room

"come in" you answered the knock.

"oh it's you ting. what's up?" you asked her.

"hmm.. didn't I say that you don't have any schedule tonight?" she asked.

"well, client's request so i have to wrap it up. something happened?" you asked while focus on your laptop as you heard the door locked in.

you turned you face to the doorway and see xiaoting,

"hmm? why you locked the door?" you frown questioning.

xiaoting not answering but walk into your way slowly and stand behind your chair, her hands landed your shoulders massaging it,

"you've worked hard, Y/N, your muscle is so tensed" she whispered

you can feel her hot breath on your ears. you turn your chair around to face her,

"wh-what are you doing, ting?" you asked while she start stripping in front of you.

her small pert breast with pink nipples and shaved pussy, make you gulped with the sight and can feel you cock start hardening,

"i can make you relax.. oppa" she said, this is the first time she called you oppa.

then she kneel down and caressing your thigh and trail her hands to your cock through the pants. her hands worked unbuckled your belt and unzipped it to pull it down, your cock sprang free hit her chin. she smiled and her eyes widen awe by your size

"it's so big" she murmured.

then she place her hands on my cock and stroke it up and down,

"ah.." you moaned.

she is not wasting time leaned in and kiss your tip to taste your precum, her mouth gaped slightly and take you cock into her mouth while her tongue licked the underside.

"oh my.. your mouth.." your words are cut off as you moaned and caressing her hair and bring her head to go deeper take your cock.

you hold her head till your tip can feel her back throat, you can see the tears flowing from the corner of her eyes. then you pull you hands off of her head and she start backing off gasped some air, you can see a string saliva connected from her lips to your cock.

"woah.. woahh.. didn't expected my secretary can help relax too" you said as you caress her cheek,

then you command her to blow your cock again. you can feel your orgasm building but you don't want explode in her mouth, you want your cock deep inside her pussy, you thought.

you stand her up to her feet and bend her over to your desk

"stay like this, ting" you command her

you kneel down and leaned in closer bring your tongue to her pussy, you lick her pussy from behind while your hands caressing her asscheeks. she moaned by your action and her juices start dripping to your mouth.

"hmm.. someone must be so horny here, huh?" you teased her,

"ahh.. oppa, don't stop. i'm so close" she said moaning.

you continued your lick but your finger slid inside her pussy now. you slid another finger to her pussy, scissoring and stretch it wide, you pump in and out of her pussy and touch her sweet spot while your tongue worked on her clit, she cry out and a few moment later she squirting hard on your hand and face.

"wow, you came so much" you watch with awe while you lap your chin,

"i'm sorry oppa, i make a mess in your office" she apologized.

"it's okay ting, i want to make you squirt more and make this room our playground" you smirked while you kiss her bare back trail up to her shoulders.

you aligned your cock to her pussy and penetrate her slowly from behind

"ahh ting, you're so tight" you groaned.

"ahh oppa…" she cry out while you thrust deeper,

and finally your cock successfully entered inside her pussy, you stay still so she can adjust your size and feel your cock inside and also in the meantime you can feel her walls pulsating massaging your cock

"can i start?" you asked her permission and she nodded.

then you start thrust in and out slowly so she can feel the sensation.

"faster oppa.. fuck me faster !!" she moaned begged me to go faster and i complied it.

your hands gripped her hips as you thrust into her faster as you watched her ass jiggle rhythmically with your thrust, you can't help but slap her ass, she moaned louder and her walls clench my cock tighter.

"are you close ting? i can feel your grip me tighter" you said, "yes.. oppa.. i'm cumming!!" she cry out, squirt on your cock coating it with her juices. you're not slowed down, you still thrust in and out fast through her orgasm that make her squirt once more.

you flip her body and lay her back to your desk,

"wrapped your legs to my waist ting" you command her and she complied it,

then you pull her arms and put it around to your neck. you penetrate her once again and carry her make she yelp. your hands grip her ass and moves her hips up and down like a fleshlight, she cry out again, you hold her hips still while your moves up and down now thrusting faster and harder into her pussy. with some thrust she squirt again, and her walls clench tighter like milking your cock.

"i'm close, ting" you whispered on her ears and bring her down to her kneel, stroke your cock.

"open your mouth, ting" you command her and explode inside her mouth and some on her face and hair.

"swallow it if you want. it's okay to spit it out" you hands her a tissue but she swallow it instead.

"your cum taste sweet and salty, oppa" she said as wiping her face and hair with the tissue you gave her ,

"lick cleaned me up ting" you command her as you bring your cock in front of her lips again, she complied lick your cock clean.

"you are amazing, ting. you are my best secretary" you kiss her forehead and caress her hair.

[shinhyunjin]

── .✦ little white lies.

⟢ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female!reader

⟢ genre: fluff, non-idol au, established relationship

⟢ word count: 1.9k

⟢ summary: the one where a street interviewer asks the story of how you met.

⟢ author’s note: hello, everyone! i don’t really know what this is, but i clearly got the idea from @/meetcutesnyc on tiktok. i feel like i could maybe turn this into a short series and write one for the rest of the members if you like this one enough. anyway, this is my first fic on this blog, so if you enjoy it please do show it some love<3

“Excuse me, are you two a couple?”

You stop in your tracks at the question, staring at the stranger that was now blocking your way, as he stood in front of you and your boyfriend—a small mic in his hand and cameraman behind him recording the scene before him.

Your first instinct is to look up to Hyunjin, who is already tightening the hold of his hand on yours and pulling you closer to him.

“We are” he doesn’t hesitate to answer.

You find the confused yet protective crease between his eyebrows particularly cute right then, so you smile.

“Would you mind telling us the story of how you met?”

“Oh, you’re that guy?!” You jump in excitement.

Hyunjin’s frown only deepens for a moment, feeling like he is missing a chapter—or a whole book—when the guy in front eagerly nods his head and laughs at your sudden enthusiasm.

One look at you, however, and a glimpse of the smile lighting up your face, is enough for him to go with whatever it is happening right then.

“Baby, they make videos on TikTok asking couples how they met” you explain to him nonetheless, caressing the back of his hand with your thumb to ease the small tension he felt after seeing you interact so comfortably with another guy—a stranger one at that.

“Oh,” Hyunjin lets out, suddenly feeling embarrassed over how defensive he was until then. “We met at an art gallery” he tries to redeem himself by kindly answering the question.

“It was actually kinda funny” you add with a small giggle that has all three guys smiling at you.

“If that’s your way of saying we were one second away from committing a crime, then—”

“Oh, hush” you playfully shut him up, enjoying all too much the dramatic roll of eyes he gives you in response. “It wouldn’t have been a crime. I think”.

Your last addition earns a quiet chuckle from the cameraman, and you wonder if that’s making it into the final video.

“Long story short,” you begin. “I was admiring one of the sculptures, minding my own business, when out of nowhere someone bumped into me. I was caught off guard, of course, so I inevitably lost my balance and bumped into the base that was holding the sculpture” you can’t help but give your boyfriend an accusatory look. “I saw my life flash before my eyes when it started swaying in front of me”.

“I was fast enough to hold it in its place before it fell, though” Hyunjin chimes in before the blame is fully thrown at him. “And thankfully there were only, like, two other people in the room with us and they were too busy checking out the paintings on the walls, so after exchanging panicked looks with this cutie right here, we rushed out of there before we got scolded”.

“We laughed it off as soon as we were in the next room and we couldn’t care less about the stares we got” you explain amidst a small laugh. “It was kind of odd, in a good way, because it felt like we knew each other already”.

“Yeah, it was weird in the best of ways” Hyunjin agrees with an adoring smile. “I obviously wanted to get to know her after that, and I just happened to have an extra ticket to a paid exposition within the main one that day, so I offered it to her in order to apologise for bumping into her and she luckily said yes”.

“And then after that I invited him for coffee to thank him for the ticket”.

Hyunjin chuckles. “And then I asked her out for dinner that same night”.

“So it’s fair to say it was love at first sight?” The guy asks with a grin.

“Definitely” the two of you answer in unison, locking eyes at the realisation and smiling in a way that was hard to tell whether you were aware there were other people in the world.

“We pretty much got together that same day” you admit with a shy smile.

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Four years,” Hyunjin replies.

“Four years and two months” you specify, just for the sake of teasing him.

He smiles and bites his tongue not to add ‘and eleven days’, because that would only lead to you doing the math and figuring out the amount of hours as well, and then him having to figure out the amount of minutes if he wanted to win.

It is a battle you had gone through more than once already, and he refuses to go down that road again—not when there is a camera pointing at you and your whole interaction would be posted on the internet.

“Wow, that’s a long time” the man in front interrupts Hyunjin’s train of thought, bringing the mic closer to you. “What’s your favourite thing about him?”

“Oh, I don’t think I can choose just one” you timidly let him know, looking up to Hyunjin and feeling your cheeks burn as his chocolate eyes are already focused on you, awaiting for an answer. “I really love how sweet and attentive he is. He is always there for me and helps me get through my hardships, even before I even have to ask for his help”.

“And what is your favourite thing about her?” He now asks your boyfriend, who finds himself smiling brightly over your wholesome words and struggling to take his eyes away from you.

“Everything” Hyunjin replies truthfully once he manages to divert his eyes from you—just like you, finding it hard to choose just one thing he loves the most about you. “She’s the most caring and selfless person I’ve ever met. She’s always checking up on me and my family, making sure we’re all okay. And I also need to mention her smile, because whenever she smiles my day is immediately made”.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze and lean your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, unable to hide the emotional pout forming on your lips, as his answer managed to warm your heart.

“So what is the next step in your relationship?”

“Moving in together” Hyunjin answers in a heartbeat, and you are grateful that it doesn’t come off as a surprise, for you had talked about it before—otherwise your heart wouldn’t have been able to take the news of his upcoming plans with you. “We needed to figure a few things out before doing so, but…” he looks down at you, smiling sweetly when your eyes lock and you nod your head, encouraging him to go on. “It’s about time we finally start properly making our life together”.

“And your names are?”

“Y/N” you’re the first to answer.

“I’m Hyunjin” he says.

“Well, thank you so much for your time, Hyunjin and Y/N” the interviewer wraps it up with a smile. “I’m glad you guys are going strong and didn’t end up in jail that day”.

The two of you laugh, and you lean into your boyfriend when he lets go of your hand and gently places his arm over your shoulders instead.

Exchanging goodbyes after being informed that the video would be up the next day, you resume your walk to the all too familiar café around the corner—the one you were heading to before the impromptu street interview took place.

“So those are the kind of videos you’re watching all day…”

“Some of them,” you nod. “I’ve sent you a few here and there. Good to know you don’t actually watch them”.

“I do” he fights back, almost offended you believe he would ever disregard something you showed him. “I thought they were all staged, though. Didn’t know people actually got interviewed on the streets out of nowhere”.

“Is that why you were so defensive when they first approached us?” You laugh.

He huffs, making his bottom lip slightly stick out and having you internally fighting not to kiss him right then. “I thought he was asking if we were a couple in hopes of us not being one, so he could ask you out”.

“Asking me out out of nowhere when I’m walking hand in hand with a guy that is clearly my boyfriend, all while there is a whole cameraman recording us?” You tease with a tilt of your head.

“Hey, who knows?” he defends himself. “Can’t control what kind of weirdos are out there chasing after online views”.

“You’re so cute” you laugh breathily, pressing a soft kiss on his jawline. “We look too much like a couple, if you ask me. They would look stupid to even try”.

“Yeah… I think the hand holding and matching outfits give it away too well” he nods with a teasing smile, motioning to the colour palette you chose together that day.

“Thank God they caught us on a good outfit day” your relieved remark earns a laugh from him. “I can’t wait for the video to be up now, I love the way we met”.

“I know you do,” he softly rubs your hand with his thumb. “Which is why I was surprised you didn’t tell them the whole story”.

“What do you mean?” You frown.

Hyunjin amusedly shakes his head, remaining silent as you reach the café and he holds the door open for you to go in first.

When you’re invaded by the strong yet pleasing scent of coffee and reach the—thankfully—short line to order, he adds, “You left out the part where later on I admitted I intentionally bumped into you just so I could talk to you”.

You laugh at the memory.

It wasn’t like he wanted you to lose your balance and make you almost drop a sculpture that you would be paying until the end of your days, had it actually fallen down and smashed on the ground.

He was just going for a little shove on your shoulder with his own, just enough to make you turn around and allow him to apologise right after. But you were too pretty, and he was too nervous—that alone making him miscalculate the distance between your bodies and slam into your shoulder harder than he had intended to.

He came clean one month into your relationship—the guilt of almost getting you in trouble just because he wasn’t able to earn up the courage to go up and talk to you like any other normal person would, was becoming too much for him to keep a secret for any longer.

You were already in too deep by then to even care, though. If anything, you were flattered that he wanted to get to know you so bad that he ended up coming up with the most stupid—and risky—of ideas in order to do so.

“I thought you weren’t holding back when it came to embarrassing me” he confesses.

You chuckle, shaking your head in both amusement and embarrassment, before pulling him forward in line with you as the people in front do so as well.

“Well, if I did mention that, you would’ve told them about how I already had a ticket to the private exposition and lied about not having one just so I had a reason to stick with you, so…”

Hyunjin’s lips part into a beaming smile, pulling you to him and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Little white lies could sometimes be beneficial; especially when they led you to the best relationship you ever had—the one you were sure would last for the rest of your lives.

“You’re right” he agrees with a smirk. “The internet doesn’t need to know how desperate we both were to get to know each other”.

[nativegirltapes]

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ what happens when sweetheart!reader invites drew over after their recent movie together finally wraps . . .

pairing: sweetheart!reader x drew starkey

warnings/notes: smut but not much until the end. also new reader yay <3 hoping to get her moodboard out tmr 🎀 lmk your thoughts sexies

the tension between you and drew was undeniable, to the both of you and the rest of the world; your friends, his friends, and both your guys' fans. it's not like you guys tried to hide it though, you were both constantly staring at each other whenever in the same room, especially during interviews, or the way you would both subconsciously have your hands all over each other, or maybe the way you'd both find a way to bring each other up when the other wasn't around.

and now that the movie you both starred in was wrapped, you both felt some weight fall from your shoulders. drew didn't feel like much of a pervert since you weren't exactly his costar anymore. and you didn't feel like you had to suppress the way your body reacted every time he got too close to you.

you hated how much you liked him, he made your stomach do literal flips. the feeling was mutual though, drew adored you in a way he hadn't anyone else. "nice place you got." drew said as you showed him around your apartment. "thanks." you stopped when you made it to your bedroom, drew looked around, your bedroom making him realize how much he really didn't know about you. "so, this is where the lucky guys get to come huh?"

"guess so," you plopped on your bed, letting your dress ride up your thighs. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't have intentions of getting somewhere with drew tonight after inviting him over alone. and it would also be a lie if drew wasn't hoping that you had intentions tonight, because he definitely did.

"am i one of those lucky guys?" drew questioned as he sat next to you on your bed. "are you?" you questioned him back, flashing him a little smile. "can i be?"

you shot out of your bed, standing up in front of him. "don't know. can you?" you teased him. drew chuckled, you were playing hard to get and it surprised him. you were the shy type yes, but there was something playful and even a little daring about you tonight and drew loved it. "do you like messing with me?" drew looked up at you as you still stood in front of him. it took a lot for him to not pull you down on his lap and kiss you. a lot actually. "maybe."

"we both know you want me just as bad as i want you right now," drew's hand fiddled with the end of your dress. "and what makes you so sure about that. hm?" you took a seat on his lap, his arm wrapped around your body, they felt even bigger than they looked. "i don't think you would've let me in your bedroom if you didn't." he said. and he was right, he was absolutely right and you didn't like it.

but clearly not enough because before you knew it, you were both tearing your clothes off each other and you were riding him. "fuck, i'm obsessed with you." drew said squeezing your ass as you bounced on his cock. his tight grip making you squeal a little, you knew it would leave marks but that was the last thing you were worried about. "you're so fucking perfect." you watched as drew's chest rose and fell at a certain pace. "cmon, talk to me." he begged.

your whole body felt so good that all you literally could do was let out moans and squeals, "s' good." you whispered, your eyes instinctively shut from the amount of pleasure. "wanna fuck you all the time." you said.

"yeah? you can baby. i'm all yours." drew responded. it was your first time having sex, but holy, the way your pussy felt wrapped around him; he swore he'd never even want to fuck anyone else ever again. "knew you weren't that shy."

you felt your cheeks get red at his comment, "m'gonna come!" you fell into his chest, heavy breaths leaving your lips as you collapsed on top of him. your manicured nails gripped onto his big arms, "me too." drew's breath hitched. you laid on him as you both caught your breath, "soooo, i am one of those lucky guys?"

[driverlando]

✧.* BABY PIASTRI

synopsis - in which everyone speculates whether you and Oscar have had your baby or not (Oscar Piastri x Wife/Model!reader)

before you continue: pls reblog and follow if you enjoyed! my requests are open, pop in anytime <3

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 113, 368 others

yourusername baby daddy 🤤

view all 1,598 comments

yourfan1 HAVE YOU HAD THE BABY???

↳ yourfan2 Right?!? We NEED Confirmation!!!

↳ oscarfan1 you don’t need anything. let them set their own pace

landonorris that smirk tho

↳ yourusername so hot right?

↳ landonorris the hottest

oscarfan2 the anticipation is killing me! is it a boy or a girl?

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 758,892 others

oscarpiastri baby mama 🥵

view all 2,456 comments

oscarfan3 she doesn’t look pregnant there 👀

↳ yourfan3 let’s not speculate on a woman’s body thanks

oscarfan4 what’s the baby’s name? 🥰

yourusername I love you!

↳ oscarpiastri I love you more 😘

↳ landonorris stop being so cute im going to throw up

yourfan5 name a prettier woman

↳ yourfan5 that’s right, you can’t

gigihadid pretty girl! 🫶

—

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, bellahadid and 924,668 others

oscarpiastri dad life 😎🐥

view all 3,456 comments

oscarfan5 babe wake up, we got confirmation on baby piastri!!

yourfan6 congratulations!! so happy for yall

charles_leclerc seems like a nice life

↳ oscarpiastri it’s the best, I recommend 😉

yourusername my sexy man 🤤

↳ yourfan7 y/ns ready for baby number 2 by the looks of it 😂

yourusername also THIS was your idea?

↳ oscarpiastri It did the job right? Everyone knows we’ve had the baby now 😃

↳ oscarfan7 I have a feeling y/n won’t be trusting Oscar with any future announcements anymore 😂

landonorris urm photo creds?

↳ yourusername I should’ve known you’d help him with his plan 😂

—

MODEL Y/N AND OSCAR PIASTRI ANNOUNCE BABY ARRIVAL IN HILARIOUS INSTAGRAM POST

The speculation is over! After weeks of swirling rumors and eager fan speculation, F1 sensation Oscar Piastri and supermodel Y/N have joyfully confirmed the arrival of their first child. The couple, known for their playful and private relationship, took to Instagram in true Oscar fashion with a post that left fans both laughing and overjoyed.

In a post that quickly went viral, Oscar Piastri shared a snapshot that epitomizes his unique sense of humor. The photo features Oscar reclining in an ice bath, looking every bit the doting father surrounded by a collection of bright yellow rubber ducks. The cheeky caption read, “Dad life 😎🐥”, a perfect blend of coolness and whimsy that fans have come to expect from the Australian racing star.

The image, posted late last night, immediately sparked a flurry of congratulatory messages from fans and fellow celebrities alike. Followers were quick to point out the cleverness of the reveal, with many applauding the couple’s decision to maintain their privacy while also sharing their joy in such a lighthearted manner.

Y/N, who has been relatively low-key on social media during the pregnancy, reposted the image on her own Instagram story, adding a heart emoji and the simple caption, “Our little duckling 🐥❤️”. The subtle, sweet addition was enough to melt hearts around the globe, cementing the couple’s place as one of the most adored pairs in the celebrity world.

The announcement comes after months of speculation, as eagle-eyed fans had been piecing together clues from Y/N’s and Oscar’s social media posts and public appearances. The couple, who are high school sweethearts and got married last year, have always been somewhat private about their personal lives, often dodging direct questions about their relationship in interviews. Their decision to keep the pregnancy under wraps until now has been met with a mix of curiosity and respect from the public.

The lighthearted and unconventional nature of their announcement has only endeared them further to their followers. “This is peak Oscar,” one fan commented. “Only he would announce becoming a dad with a bunch of rubber ducks. Love it!”

Fellow F1 drivers were also quick to react, with many taking to social media to congratulate their colleague. Lewis Hamilton posted a series of laughing emojis and the comment, “Mate, this is brilliant. Congrats!” Meanwhile, Sergio Pérez shared the post on his story, adding, “Welcome to the club, Oscar! So happy for you and Y/N.”

Y/N’s friends from the modeling world also chimed in with their well-wishes. Supermodel and close friend Gigi Hadid commented, “So happy for you both! Can’t wait to meet the little one 🐣❤️.” Other notable names like Kendall Jenner and Hailey Bieber also left congratulatory messages, highlighting the couple’s wide circle of supportive friends.

While details about the baby’s name and gender remain under wraps, sources close to the couple suggest that both mother and baby are healthy and doing well. It’s been reported that the couple is currently enjoying some much-needed family time away from the public eye, focusing on bonding with their new arrival.

Oscar Piastri’s journey to fatherhood marks another exciting chapter in his already impressive career. The 23-year-old has been making waves in the Formula 1 world, known for his fierce competitiveness and undeniable talent on the track. His personal life, however, has remained a refreshing blend of humor and humility, as evidenced by this recent announcement.

Y/N, who has graced the covers of countless fashion magazines and walked the runways for top designers, has also been balancing her career and personal life with grace and style. The couple’s shared values and mutual support have made them a power duo, both in their professional and personal lives.

As the news continues to spread, fans eagerly await more updates from the couple, hoping for a glimpse into their life as new parents. For now, the iconic ice bath photo with its playful rubber ducks will remain a delightful and heartwarming reminder of this special moment.

In a world often dominated by glitz and glamour, Oscar and Y/N’s announcement is a breath of fresh air, reminding everyone that sometimes, the simplest and silliest moments are the ones that matter the most.

Congratulations to the happy couple on their new adventure into parenthood!

—

[pelova4president]

My treat I

sugarmommies!Ingrid x Frido x sugarbaby!Reader

My treat II

summary~ you get caught staring for the second time and two of the most beautiful women take an interest in you. this is just the beginning, so there’s not much tension yet. not proof read.

As an intern you were supposed to feel a bit out of place, like you aren’t really supposed to be there. Like you’re invisible.

Invisible, it’s the perfect word to describe how you felt. You found yourself in a room full of journalists and professional athletes. You weren’t a professional athlete nor a real journalist, at least not yet.

The room was bright. The lights were fixated on the footballers walking through the door. There were voices coming from all directions of the room. Question were asked and answered. Player after player came walking through that door until the last one arrived.

Engen, that’s what the interviewer from DAZN called her. She caught your eye. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The effort she had put into the game was seen in little droplets of sweat across her face.

The woman answered the question quick and confident. She answered the questions in almost fluent Spanish, it made you wonder where she learned the language. The interviewer thanked her and Engen gave her a nod before she looked over the interviewer’s shoulder, at you.

She had caught you staring. Well, it was kind of your job to do that but for some reason you really did felt caught by her. Engen didn’t give you much of a reaction, only a tiny smirk appeared.

Weeks later, back in Manchester you she caught you staring again.

Done for the day you let your friends convince you to go out to a bar. It had been a long day, writing whatever came to mind in the hopes it was good enough for your assignment. You really needed to get drunk and forget about whatever you had to do the next day.

The bar was dimly lit, something you would’ve found unsettling if you weren’t already four shots down. There was a soft jazz playlist on in the background as your heels hit the wooden floor. Your friend walked you to the bar where you ordered a porn star martini.

As you sat on one of the creaking barstools you looked around. In the booth left to you sat a couple that was clearly in the honeymoon phase. Next to them sat group of men, laughing at some sexist joke.

The bartender placed your martini down when she caught your eye again. But Engen wasn’t alone. There was a blonde next to her and even with the horrible lighting you could see her eyes sparkle.

The dark haired woman had a black dress on and the blonde a dark grey suit. They were gorgeous.

You looked away as quickly as you could but the damage was already done. You sipped nervously on your drink in the hopes she wouldn’t recognise you.

But your prayers weren’t heard. You felt someone tap you on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and when you didn’t turn the person spoke. “I know you saw us, Ingrid recognised you.”

You turned your head slowly, showing a shy smile. “You’re pretty cute, come sit with us.” the blonde ordered more than offered you.

You got up from your seat and followed the woman to her booth. She let you get seated first, next to Ingrid, in the middle. You felt like you were trapped between the two women.

“I knew i recognised you from somewhere. You are the staring girl from that DAZN interview right?” Ingrid asked you. You looked down at your drink and nodded.

Frido and Ingrid looked at eachother and Ingrid spoke up again. “Frido here thinks you’re very pretty.”

The blonde scoffed at that. “Like you weren’t talking about her for the last few weeks. I was just interested to see her in the flesh. And yeah, i’ll have to agree with you, she really is as beautiful as you said.”

You looked at Frido and she gave you a warm smile. “Thanks” you told her.

“So tell us about yourself, your work, your boyfriend maybe?” Ingrid asked you.

“No boyfriend, or girlfriend and uhm i’m an intern at the moment.” you told them. They seemed to exchange a smile at that.

You asked them about their interest and lives. You got to know they both play for Barcelona and were born in Norway and Sweden. Frido placed her arm around your shoulders as you took the last sip of your drink.

The footballers wanted to know more about you, so you told them more. They were practically strangers, but hot strangers that showed interest so that doesn’t count anyway.

It was 1:30 am when you told them you should probably start to get home. Frido hummed at that. “Yeah, we should too.”

Ingrid walked to the front with you as Frido paid for the drinks. “I really enjoyed tonight, maybe we could do it again some other time?” she asked you.

Ingrid’s eyes looked into yours as she stood infront of you “I really enjoyed tonight too. Maybe we could yeah.” you told her.

“You’re really pretty, even with that shitty lightning i could see how beautiful you are.” she told you.

You couldn’t help but smile as the leaned in. The kiss was soft and genuine, just like her words.

It wasn’t until you heard the door shut that you broke the kiss off. “So you gave Engen the first kiss?” Frido spoke.

You really didn’t know what they had, if they did have anything going on at all. This dynamic was beyond confusing for you.

“Oh come on, if you had the chance you wouldn’t wait either.” the Norwegian defended herself.

“Hmm, it would only be fair if i would get one too huh?” she smirked at you. The blonde placed her hand under your chin and kissed you just as genuine. Frido was passionate and controlling the kiss.

When your uber arrived they gave you their phone numbers and told you to text them when you got home. You placed a kiss to both of their cheeks as you thanked them for the night.

You opened the door to your shared apartment, it was dark inside. Your roommates were most likely asleep or staying at their partners place.

Everybody knows that living as a intern is hard. You put all your effort into your work and don’t even get a moment of appreciation. Your salary was low but you already knew that when you signed the contract. But even though it was hard, you really enjoyed the work you did and the people you worked with.

As you got into bed you typed something to the two women. ‘hi, this is the staring girl-‘ no that’s cringe. ‘hey, this is me from tonight-‘ no too weird. ‘hi, i’m home. I really enjoyed tonight :)’ that’ll do.

‘thank you for texting, we loved it too. especially the end ;)’ -frido

‘we only have a few days left in manchester, so maybe we can cook you something on tuesday?’ -ingrid

‘yeah, that sounds really nice. I’d like that.’

A.N. i’ll need some ideas/prompts/hc’s for the next chapter so send them in because i need motivation

[sstan-hoe]

𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — congressman!bucky barnes × journalist!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — interviewing congressman James Buchanan Barnes didn't seem like a big deal, if he wasn't known for getting the journalists fired...but with you...he had other ideas...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT: p in v, unprotected, fingerings, sir kink, kind dark, kinda not, not aftercare cuz I didn't write it, bucky barnes, yeah that's a warning, did I forget anything?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — okay, yeah, I jumped in that train, but how could I not? We can all agree I'm fucking rusty, idk what this is, I didn't even know how to end it? Where is my writing talent, like look at this? well, feedback is appreciated but ehh yeah I understand if not haha, also no beta, English is not my first language, yk all that stuff

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the chaos that would follow in the next two hours. It was your first major interview, before all you did was write a few articles and do research. Therefore, you were even more anxious with the task you got from your boss.

Disappointing her was not an option but you knew how difficult today would be, in preparation for this moment you watched many interviews with the congressman. You observed actions of journalists he would criticise or how he would react to certain questions.

This way you were able to tell yourself it would be a great interview. All while hoping your boss was not searching for a reason to fire you and this was her way of getting rid of you.

You had set questions, which couldn’t be changed and some you weren’t even allowed to ask. So, a waterproof plan, right? Well congressman Barnes wasn’t known for his flawless interviews or his friendly answers.

No, he was rude and harsh. Many journalists before you had lost their job or swore to never interview him again – or more like weren’t allowed to come back. His answers were short and often left no room for arguments. If a reporter even messed up a tiny bit, he would immediately call them out on it.

Walking into the tall building felt like you would crumble under the pressure, everything was so massive and intimidating. Well, a place fit for a man like James Buchanan Barnes.

They checked your ID and instructions. Simply what to do and not to do, nothing new. Still, it felt like you committed a crime, after all the secruity never left you alone, which made sense as they wanted to make sure Barnes was safe.

Although, he could protect himself with that metal arm of his – also something you were under no circumstances allowed to ask about. The last one who did, has never surfaced again.

“You can sit there, he will be with you in five minutes,” a man with broad shoulders and blonde hair told you. He looked like the typical American golden boy, he did seem a bit scary, but you would bet he was a true sweetheart.

“Okay,” you answered, though he probably didn’t even hear you as he walked right out of the door again. It gave you a chance to take in the room, it wasn’t like the usual interview rooms you saw on TV, no it seemed more private and secured.

In hopes to be perfect, you set everything up. Everything had to align, the papers, the pen and water of course. You could not give him any reason to snap at you.

Just as you finished, the man of the hour stepped in with five secruity men. Barnes entrance came with an unstoppable aura, like everyone would cower under his presence and most of the time they did.

He glared at you, as if you had just called him an asshole – which you didn’t. You tried your best not to show him how much it bothered you, so you just smiled brightly at him.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes, I’m really honoured that you agreed to this interview,” you politely said once he sat down. “You’re welcome,” he answered, voice a lot deeper than you thought and awfully sexy. How could he be single? Also, a question no one was allowed to ask, but it was unusual for a congressman to have no partner…right?

He nodded at his men, and instantly they cleared out which confused you. “Aren’t they supposed to protect you?” you questioned, already regretting it.

“Yes, they are right in front of the door and the room has cameras everywhere,” he explained, voice monotone. Lightly he tilted his head, he gave every reporter three strikes – not telling them of course – and once they hit them, he would make them leave.

After knowing who would interview him, he did his research, and you were the first one he barley found any information on. You weren’t known yet, which was probably the reason they send you.

However it made him curious, the articles you had written so far were good – some even better than the ones of his previous reporters. Besides you were a lot prettier than them.

“Oh, yeah…that makes sense,” you nodded in agreement, trying to hide the fact that you still found it weird. “Okay, then we should start. I will ask you questions, and you answer them however you want, and-,” “I know how to answer questions doll,” he cut you off in a sharp tone, eyes quite dark.

Great, this was going fucking great, you told yourself, “I know, of course, I just…I’m used to doing it this way,” you tried your best to explain, keeping a smile on your lips. In response Barnes lifted his eyebrow, “you’re used to making the person oppisite of you look stupid?”

Couldn’t there be a fire, or an attack or anything? Anything that would make you end this interview, “no, no I’m not. We will just start, first question: not everyone is happy that you won the election, is there a way you want to proof yourself to them?”

“No, I won’t do anything. Everyone has their opinion, and they should keep it, I proofed myself enough, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” he answered, leaning back against his chair. You knew he had good answers but damn.

“Sounds good, I mean there was never a congressman everyone liked,” you agreed, writing his answer down. “Yes, thank you,” he said with sarcasm and only then you realised what you had actually said, with wide eyes you began apologizing, “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just you know slang,” that what bullshit, it wasn’t slang you only needed an explanation.

“Slang?” he repeated, he knew you were nervous – everyone was – but he didn’t expect to enjoy it this much. You pressed your lips together, nodding along, “yes.”

“Next question,” you put a bright smile back on your face, “your term is rather young, but in this time, you already accomplished a lot, what are you most proud of?” For a moment there was a silence, it gave you a chance to take a closer look at Barnes.

Suddenly he had a small smirk on his lips instead of the normal stoic expression, you’d never seen him act any different in recent interviews. Maybe it was a good sign, maybe he wouldn’t end your carrier right after today.

“That every woman has the right of an abortion without fear,” he stated, crossing his fingers on his lap. You had no arguments there, it was truly remarkable.

Quickly you scribbled his answer down and checking the question off your list. “The other journalist had a recorder, are you not professional enough for that?” And there he was again, the friendly congressman everyone knew. It sounded almost as if he was taunting you.

“I am, just because I don’t fit your standard does not mean I’m unprofessional,” you snapped, then instantly clamping a hand over your mouth as you realised how you just spoke to the congressman.

Said person didn’t care, now he fully smirked with satisfaction, “so you actually can speak louder than a little mouse.” Oh, he looked so proud of himself for say that.

His words came unexpected, from your research you knew that he had a sharp tongue, but this was entirely new. From his answer you gathered he did it on purpose, but why would he want you to be rude? You could be reaching, but maybe your boss did want to get rid of you and asked him for help…okay that was crazy.

“Moving on,” you ignored his words, shaking your head a little as an idea popped in your head, if he could be an asshole so could you. “Many people wonder what happened with your arm, were you in the army or maybe an accident?”

“Come again?” he almost growled, features becoming dark and almost scary. Body moving a little forward, even though a small part of you was scared, you were extremely turned on.

You didn’t know what to say, should you really repeat it? Fuck it, yes. “What happened to your arm?” eyes staying on his, noticing how he flexed said arm.

“Becoming quite bold, are we? I remember this being a question you’re not allowed to ask,” he lifted his chin as if challenging you. This was exactly what he wanted, to see if you were really as shy as he read and he was positively surprised.

“I told you I’m not like the others,” suddenly you forgot who you were talking to, forgot how he was one of the most important and powerful people in the world.

Then he stood up, his huge body towering over you. Bucky rested his hands on either side of your chair, face dangerously close to yours. It was as if he could feel how nervous you became.

“No, you’re not…,” he whispered, hands taking yours and guiding you to stand up. As if in trance you followed him, looking up at him with big eyes.

“You’re far more beautiful,” he continued, letting his hands glide up your body to your face. Was this actually happening? No, you had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation.

You had no words, you were speechless, and your mind was running wild. Is that why he chose you? Because he wanted a quick fuck? As if he couldn’t get anyone, he wanted but you would surely not cave and lose your job – wait would you lose it if you did not sleep with him?

“This is unprofessional,” you stated, trying to move your chair a little further away from him. However, your words only made the man smirk with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Who is to say we should not do this? There is no one with more power than me doll,” he whispered, closer than he was before. He would be lying if he said he didn’t do his research on you and if he would deny how captive, you held him.

Your work stood out, you really seemed to care the people you interviewed and wanted to give the audience a look behind the curtains. Every other reporter he had before was full of themselves, proud to be interviewing the congressman and only getting what was necessary.

His agenda may or may not have been unprofessional. But who could blame him? You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, it was remarkable, and he wanted you.

“I’m not sleeping with you, I’m not some girl you can use to get off,” you continued, trying to stand up but Bucky gripped your waist instead. Was this truly your life? Of course, James Barnes was a walking god, but this felt like a situation right out of a romance book.

He chuckled at that, he loved how you played hard to get. “Sure,” he nodded before pulling you flush against his hard chest, reflexively your hands flew against his broad shoulders.

“Prove me wrong,” he challenged you, then pressed his lips against yours, tongue gliding along your upper lip. Caught up in the moment you accepted his tongue into your mouth, his kiss was hot and filled with hunger.

It felt like he was swallowing you and you hated to admit how damn good he felt. Not only his aura was screaming dominance but also actions did as he lightly bit into your bottom lip to keep your mouth open.

You moved into him, hands wrapping around his neck. With a heavy breath Bucky broke the kiss, wearing a satisfied smirk, “you seem to quite enjoy this doll.”

In response you rolled your eyes, “it is highly unprofessional, you should know this,” you tried to keep your voice hard, in order to convince yourself to not fall further into his schemes.

Again, he didn’t take you seriously instead he placed hot kisses along your collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a whine by the way his slight stubble was rubbing against your skin. It was rough yet set you on fire.

“Does that normaly work for you?” he questioned in between kisses, suddenly you sensed pressure just above your pulse. The congressman was marking you up, like you were his possession.

“What?” you asked confused, eyes fighting to stay open as you gripped onto his hair. In response he shook his head, continuing his way down your cleavage. Meanwhile he let his hand slide up to the collar of your blouse and without hesitation ripped it open.

His actions pulled you from your bliss, gasping loudly, “I just bought this one!” “Please, I will buy you a new one if you’re so attached,” he rolled his eyes, slipping your blouse off and revealing your black lace bra.

God, you looked amazing, if Bucky wasn’t on a time limit, he would take the time to worship your tits properly.

“No, no, no, I told you this is wrong!” you let go of him and put your hands on his chest to keep a distance. You couldn’t let this go any further than it already had, but the man in front of you was so hard to resist.

“Doll, if it’s wrong than why does it feel like the right thing to do?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, resting his hands once again on your waist, however now you felt the contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold metal hand.

Letting his metal hand move down to your thigh, he lifted your leg to pull you closer to him. The way he manoeuvred your body made you feel his hard erection.

You whimpered in order to supress a moan slipping from your lips, “Mr. Barnes,” you argued. He knew exactly what he was doing, “I like the way you say my name, so be honest…if you’re so against this, then why are you reacting this way, mhm?”

“Come on doll, tell me,” his lips ghosted over yours before he hosted you up completely. “Sir…please,” you tried again, voice cracking as you tried to stabilize yourself.

He chuckled walking towards his desk, laying you down on the hard wood. “That’s what I thought,” he grinned, kissing down your stomach to your heated core. You thought you would explode, the congressman was about to pleasure you, the same man who you were scared would fire you.

“Let’s see if I really don’t have any effect on you doll,” you got goosebumps from the way his hot breath hit your skin. Bucky opened your trousers, pulling them down your legs.

He hooked his fingers around your panties, revealing how right he was. “Look at that, you’re fucking wet for the congressman,” he sounded taunting, but you would bet he was satisfied with himself.

However, his words only made this moment feel even dirtier than it already was. You propped yourself up on your elbows and suddenly realised you were completely naked yet the man in front of you wasn’t.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair how you’re still fully dressed?” you questioned with raised brows, not knowing you could muster up this much confidence at the moment.

“Do you think this is any way to speak to me?” his tone became dark, throwing your panties across the room. With one sentence he destroyed your confidence, “I’m sorry sir,” you instantly apologized which played right into Bucky’s cards.

Smirking he shrugged of his blazer, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt a little. It gave you a view onto his god-like chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he told you, pulling his tie over his head and stuffed it into your mouth. While it was extremely hot you felt a slight disappointment, “aww, don’t worry doll, you’ll get the chance to scream as loud as you need but not today.”

“Sadly, we’re on a tight schedule, so I will have to eat you out another time,” he said it like it was the most casual thing there was while you almost choked, there would be a second time?

His fingers traced along your cunt, spreading your juice over your skin, “feel how wet you are for me? And here you were saying that you didn’t want this,” he tsked, pushing his middle and pointer finger into your pulsing core.

You bit down on his tie, suppressing a moan and muffling his last name. Even in this situation you were too scared to say his first name.

“Squeezing my fingers huh, doll?” Bucky pulled his fingers from you and smeared his cock with your wetness. Then he undid his pants, letting his hard member free. Your gaze fell down to his cock, his leaking tip hitting his stomach.

You’d never thought you would say this, but he looked too pretty, and thicker than anyone you had before. “You’re so pretty,” you mumbled, your mind wasn’t function properly, so it didn’t even surprise you as those words left your mouth.

Bucky could barley make out what you were saying, he had an idea though and turned him on even more. With no warning he thrusted his cock inside your aching pussy, not caring if it hurt.

This time you couldn’t contain any sounds, you screamed loudly, clawing onto the wooden desk. “Feel me stretching you doll?” he smirked, pulling out but leaving his tip inside, just barley to tease you. Then he pushed in, with a hard pace he pummelled in and out of you.

You couldn’t help but clench around him, wrapping your lags around his hips which made him grin, “don’t want me leaving ya?”

Shaking your head you tried to keep the grip as tight as possible, he felt like heaven, he filled you perfectly and hit your sweet, sensitive spot in all the right ways.

His metal hand came down to rub circles on your clit, putting pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves to drive you closer to your high. Given the fact he was still stronger than you, he had no problems moving with you pressing your legs against him.

In fact, it only made him enjoy it more. Your eyes rolled in the back I’d your head as you felt a shot if ecstasy crash through your nerves. Bucky was admiring how fucked out you looked, trying to hold onto one single though; him.

“I can feel you getting tighter doll, be a good girl and come...then you can milk my cock of every last drop,” he leaned down, whispering into your ear, flesh hand coming up to your throat to keep you in position.

“I can’t-“ you whimpered, it was too much, never before had you felt this much pleasure, never before was anyone able to make you come with his cock.

“You will, slut,” the congressman growled, demanded. This was exactly the man you feared just moments ago. Now you felt different, now you wanted to make him proud.

“Yes, sir,” you caved, letting everything happen, let the tight knot in your stomach explode. You tried holding onto his wrist, but your grip slipped.

With satisfaction Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, know it would push you even further into submission. He bit his lip, trying not to let out a strangled groan at the way you gripped him like a vice.

Seeing you have you climax made him sure to follow you suit, roads of white cum painted your swollen walls. It took everything in him to keep moving, to make you would get every last drop of him. “I could get used to being interviewed by you, doll,” he grunted, slightly tighting his hold on your throat.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, too overwhelmed with the situation. What had he done to you? Why did he give you an amazing orgasm ? What would happen now?

It was too much running through your brain, you just needed a nap, just for five minutes.... “Oh, doll, this was just the beginning.”

told ya, shit ending

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 17

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

6 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Quali Day

YouTube Transcript – Silverstone 2024 – Lando Norris Post-Qualifying Interview

Interviewer: “Lando, solid qualifying today. But I have to ask—the paddock is absolutely buzzing because you’ve brought someone special this weekend. This is the first time we’ve seen you publicly with your girlfriend. What made Silverstone the right place?”

Lando: [laughs, rubbing the back of his neck] “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t keep her a secret forever, could I? Silverstone just made sense. It’s home for me, and it’s a special race, so... felt like the right time.”

Interviewer: “People were definitely surprised! Most fans had no idea you were even dating someone, let alone Elizabeth Treshton, a bestselling author. Was keeping it private a conscious decision?”

Lando: “Yeah, for sure. I mean, I like keeping my personal life… well, personal. But also, Lizzie’s got her own career, her own thing, and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable before anything went public. It’s a bit different from racing, but she’s got just as many passionate fans as we do in F1.”

Interviewer: “Speaking of passion—social media is having a meltdown over the fact that her dog, Mara, is at Silverstone wearing a Quadrant bandana that matches your helmet. Can you confirm if this was planned, or is this just peak marketing?”

Lando: [grinning] “Liz just thought it’d be funny. And honestly, it is. They are my good luck charm.”

Interviewer: “One last question before we let you go—now that she’s made her paddock debut, should we expect to see Elizabeth at more races?”

Lando: [shrugs, smirking] “We’ll see. I mean, she’s got books to write, but maybe if I ask nicely.”

Interviewer: “Alright, we’ll hold you to that. Thanks, Lando, and good luck tomorrow!”

Comments: 

@/RomantasyQueen: Wait wait wait—Lando called her Liz??? Since WHEN???

@/TwitchChamps: What if he’s the only one who calls her Liz? What if that’s like...their thing???

@/RomantasyReign: Lando Norris dating THE Elizabeth Treshton is the plot twist of the century. This crossover is feeding me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

@/TifosiTears: Not only is Lizzie a Ferrari fan, but she’s dating a McLaren driver??? The potential for absolute chaos in this relationship is INSANE, and I’m here for it.

@/GatekeepingGremlin: Ugh, why does every driver suddenly need to have a famous girlfriend? This feels so staged.

@/F1Bookworm: We’ve been sobbing over tragic, brooding fae princes for YEARS, and now Lizzie is with Lando, the most golden retriever boyfriend to ever exist. I love this for her.

@/MaraStanAccount: Mara being the true star of the paddock is the best part of this. Someone get this dog a tiny Quadrant hoodie ASAP.

@/BitterAndSalty: She’s a writer, big deal. What does she actually have to do with F1?

@/PitLaneGossip: The fact that Lando admitted Lizzie’s got fans just as passionate as F1 ones??? He understands the romantasy girlies are unhinged and will defend their queen. We’ve already claimed him as a book boyfriend now.

@/ConspiracyQueen: Funny how she’s suddenly at Silverstone and now everyone is talking about her. Feels like a marketing stunt, tbh.

@/WAGWatch: I love how Lizzie isn’t even a regular WAG. She’s an author. Like, imagine dating a race car driver and still being the most interesting person in the room.

@/LandoFangirl69: Lando soft-launching Lizzie was one thing, but Mara getting a full rebrand as an F1 celebrity dog was NOT on my 2024 bingo card.

7 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Race Day

YouTube Transcript - FIA Post-Race Press Conference – Silverstone

Attendees: Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen

Moderator: “Next question.”

Interviewer: [Clears throat.] “Lando, your relationship with Elizabeth Treshton has been in the spotlight. Given her epilepsy, do you ever worry about how that might affect your career and the demands of F1?”

Lando: [Blinks, frowning.] “Sorry, what?”

Interviewer: “Well, F1 is a high-pressure environment—constant travel, long hours, high stress. Do you ever consider whether being with someone who has a condition like that is… sustainable?”

Lewis: [Turns his head sharply.] “Excuse me?”

Max: [Squinting at the interviewer.] “Did you really just say that?”

Lando: [Slowly, voice dangerously calm.] “Are you asking me if Liz’s epilepsy is a problem for me?”

Interviewer: “No, no, I just meant—”

Lando: [Flatly.] “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Interviewer: [Awkward chuckle.] “I meant in terms of logistics.”

Max: [Muttering.] “Logistics. Unreal.”

Lando: [Deadpan.] “Logistics.”

Interviewer: “Like—does it make things harder for you?”

Lando: [Leaning forward slightly.] “Harder for me? I’m not the one with epilepsy. She is. She’s the one managing it. And she does. Every day. It’s not an issue. It’s just part of her life.”

Interviewer: “But with the unpredictability—”

Lando: [Firmly.] “Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.”

Lewis: [Shaking his head.] “I’ve heard a lot of nonsense in these press conferences, but this is a new low.”

Max: [Scoffs, crossing his arms.] “Yeah. This is disgusting.”

Interviewer: [Looking increasingly uncomfortable.] “I didn’t mean to imply—”

Lando: [Interrupting.] “You did imply it. And I don’t get it. You wouldn’t ask this if she had diabetes or asthma. Why is epilepsy different?”

Lewis: [Firmly.] “It’s not.”

Max: [Pointedly.] “Maybe we should be asking why you think it is.”

(A tense silence. The interviewer looks like they want the ground to swallow them whole. Lando exhales sharply, jaw tight.)

Lando: [Flatly.] “Liz is my girlfriend. I love her. End of story.”

Moderator: [Hurriedly.] “Next question.”

Comments: 

@/F1Fanatic99: Lando shutting that down IMMEDIATELY. No hesitation. No dodging. Just straight-up ‘I love her. End of story.’ That’s a man right there.

@/GridGossip: You can literally see Lando getting angrier with every follow-up question. This interviewer really thought they were onto something.

@/WheelToWheel: Max saying ‘this is disgusting’ and Lewis calling it a new low. They didn’t just stand by—they backed Lando and Lizzie. That’s respect.

@/McLarenUpdates: The way Lando just flat-out refused to give them any kind of negative soundbite about Lizzie’s epilepsy. That’s love.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: It’s rare to see someone in the public eye so openly defend a partner with epilepsy like this. Lando handled this perfectly. Thank you for using your platform the right way.

@/AlwaysDR3: I mean, the interviewer had a point?? F1 drivers have crazy schedules. It’s a valid concern.

@/SilverstoneStan: Lando saying Lizzie’s epilepsy isn’t hard for him… yeah, but he’s definitely making sacrifices. He should’ve just been honest.

@/SpeedDemon19: No, but actually… that interviewer should be ashamed. What an awful question to ask.

@/F1TeaSpill: I like Lizzie but let’s be real, she’s a liability for his career. The press will always focus on this now.

@/McLarenSuperFan: If she ever has a seizure during a race weekend and it distracts him, then what?

@/MaxsOrangeArmy: That interviewer was so desperate for Lando to say something awful, and instead, he got a masterclass in 'how not to be an ableist idiot.'

@/PitStopChaos: Mara (Lizzie’s dog) growling at the TV somewhere, I just know it.

@/ChaosInTurn1: Not Lando making this interviewer question every life decision they’ve ever made.

@/F1Wifey: The way Lando did not let them frame epilepsy as some kind of obstacle for him. He kept the focus on Lizzie and how she handles it. That’s how you love someone.

@/WheelToWheelGirl: Lewis and Max backing him instantly?? No hesitation?? It’s the kind of solidarity we love to see.

@/EpilepsyAdvocacy: The amount of people acting like epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love and stability is disgusting. Thank you, Lando, for not entertaining that nonsense.

@/RacingLogic: No one is saying he shouldn’t love her, but c’mon, it’s a fair question. F1 drivers have insane schedules.

@/ToxicMcLarenFan: Lando could’ve just said ‘we manage it well’ and moved on instead of acting like the interviewer just insulted his ancestors.

@/SilverstoneElite: I get that he’s in love or whatever, but acting like this isn’t a factor in his career is just naive.

@/PaddockInsider: Bet McLaren wishes they could tell him to not be so public about this. Sponsors might not like the drama.

@/PitLaneDrama: The moment Lando said ‘logistics?’ I felt the temperature in that room drop.

@/FIAConspiracyTheories: Can’t wait for the Netflix edit where they make it look like this ruined Lando’s season.

@/FastAndFearless: The way he shut that down so fast? He’s not just defending Lizzie, he’s making it very clear that ableism won’t be tolerated.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: Public figures treating epilepsy like a burden is so common. Seeing Lando refuse to play into that narrative means so much.

@/DriveItLikeItsHot: ’Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.’ I AM SOBBING IN THE CLUB.

@/McLarenMadness: This interviewer really expected Lando to go, 'Yeah, you’re right, I should probably dump her' ???

@/F1GirlfriendGoals: Lando: ‘She makes my life better.’ Me: Crying in single.

@/CasualF1Fan: That interviewer woke up and chose ableism live on air and Lando was having NONE of it.

@/PurelyObjective: Lando’s getting defensive over nothing. It was a logistics question, not a personal attack.

@/UnbotheredMcLarenFan: I feel like this was an overreaction? He could’ve just said, ‘We make it work’ and moved on.

@/StrictlyBusiness: If you don’t think sponsors consider things like this, you’re naive. This is a discussion, whether you like it or not.

@/MaxFanButConfused: McLaren PR must be watching this with their heads in their hands like 'oh god, here we go again.'

@/MaxRageMode: Lando really said “You’re not gonna get the soundbite you want.

@/LandoSimps: Lando is so in love with Lizzie. He didn’t even hesitate before going to war for her.

@/WAGsInFormation: That interviewer really tried to frame epilepsy as a reason not to love someone. What year is it??

@/PaddockSpice: If looks could kill, Max and Lewis would’ve been the co-conspirators in The Murder of the Silverstone Interviewer.

@/FIAClownShow: If you listen closely, you can hear the exact moment McLaren PR started hyperventilating. @/McLarenPanicDepartment: “DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHETHER BEING WITH HER IS SUSTAINABLE??” Bro. That is insane to say out loud.

@/MaraForPresident: Mara better be getting so many extra treats for emotionally supporting Lizzie through this.

Is Lando Norris’ Relationship Hurting His Brand? By: James Carter, The Racing Report

When Lando Norris stormed to yet another podium at Silverstone, the home crowd erupted in cheers. The young Brit is one of Formula 1’s most promising stars—charming, talented, and a marketing goldmine. But while his on-track performance continues to impress, his off-track choices are raising eyebrows.

Namely, his relationship with fantasy author Lizzie Treshton.

It’s no secret that Formula 1 drivers tend to date models, influencers, and celebrities—women who embody the glamorous, jet-set lifestyle that comes with being in the pinnacle of motorsport. Treshton, by contrast, is an author of romantasy novels, a niche genre that, while popular, hardly screams luxury brand ambassador. More concerning, however, is the ongoing discourse surrounding her epilepsy, her service dog, and the apparent PR nightmare that comes with dating someone so fundamentally unaligned with the F1 image.

Let’s be honest—Lando Norris’ schedule is relentless. Grand Prix weekends involve constant travel, late nights, high-intensity racing, and overwhelming media obligations. In short, it’s not an environment suited to someone with a medical condition like epilepsy. While Norris has passionately defended his girlfriend against critics, one has to ask: is this sustainable?

It’s an uncomfortable question, but a necessary one. Relationships require compromise, and when one partner’s lifestyle is inherently at odds with the other’s career, problems arise. Norris insists that Treshton’s epilepsy “isn’t hard” for him, but realistically, how could it not be? He’s bringing her into an environment full of flashing lights, loud noises, and extreme stress—hardly ideal conditions for someone with a neurological disorder.

Beyond the logistics, there’s also the question of image. McLaren has spent years cultivating Norris as an approachable yet aspirational figure, a brand-friendly athlete with widespread appeal. That image is now being dragged into online firestorms, as Norris’ fanbase—usually one of the most engaged and loyal in motorsport—has become divided.

While Norris and Treshton’s relationship may be personal, in F1, nothing is truly private. The controversy surrounding Treshton has only intensified in recent weeks, from heated online debates to Norris’ now-viral post-race interview where he shut down a journalist for asking if her condition made his career harder. While some fans saw his response as commendable, others questioned why such discussions were necessary in the first place.

One thing is clear: Treshton is not a neutral presence in Norris’ career. Her online presence, her outspoken defense against critics, and even her service dog (yes, a Labrador now features in Norris’ F1 orbit) have sparked endless debates. The internet discourse isn’t just about Norris’ driving anymore—it’s about her.

And that’s the problem.

Lando Norris is 25 years old, at the peak of his career, and one of the most marketable drivers in Formula 1. The last thing he needs is unnecessary distractions. His fans adore him, his sponsors invest millions in him, and McLaren is banking on him to lead the team into its next championship era.

But in a sport where image is everything, is he making the right personal choices?

Time will tell. But one thing is certain: this relationship isn’t just about romance—it’s about reputation. And Lando Norris may soon have to decide which one matters more.

Comments:

@/F1Fangirl88: Imagine thinking a woman having epilepsy is a ‘PR nightmare.’ This article is disgusting.

@/PaddockInsider69: They have a point. F1 is a demanding career, and Lizzie’s health issues aren’t exactly an easy thing to manage. It’s a fair question.

@/McLaren4Life: Lizzie is literally just existing and these guys are acting like she’s some kind of controversy. Lando loves her. That should be the end of the discussion.

@/BrandManagerAnon: Lando is a brand, whether fans like it or not. And Lizzie is making that brand messy. This isn’t about love—it’s about business.

@/MaxFan_33: So women in F1 can only be models or influencers? God forbid a man date someone smart and successful in her own field.

@/EpilepsyAwarenessUK: The ableism is off the charts. Having epilepsy doesn’t make you a burden or a liability. It’s a medical condition, not a PR scandal.

@/McLarenPRRep: F1 is a high-profile world. Not every girlfriend can handle it, and honestly, Lizzie brings more drama than she’s worth.

@/FastCarsHotGirls: No offense but Lando could have literally any woman in the world and he chooses some nerdy author? Make it make sense.

@/WDC_OrNothing: Not saying she’s bad for him, but you do have to wonder if all this online drama is a distraction.

@/AntiRomantasyClub: Her books are cringe, she has zero charisma, and now she’s bringing a dog into the paddock? Lando deserves better.

@/GeorgeRussellThirstClub: This is why we don’t let men write articles.

@/MaraTheLabradorFan: DELETE THIS ARTICLE OR MARA WILL FIND YOU.

@/F1HotTakeKing: Not saying Lando should break up with her, but is he really thinking long-term? He’s 25, at his peak—does he want to spend his prime years worrying about his girlfriend’s medical issues?

@/GridGossip101: Look, we all love a good romance story, but let’s be real—Lizzie doesn’t exactly scream ‘F1 Girlfriend Material.’ She’s not glamorous, she doesn’t do grid walks, she’s not a model or an influencer. What does she bring to the table?

@/PRGuruAnon: If I were Lando’s management, I’d be deeply concerned. Fans love a cute WAG, but when your girlfriend starts trending for all the wrong reasons, that’s bad optics. Epilepsy is tragic, but F1 is about strength, not struggle.

@/RealTalkMotorsport: Lando’s brand is cool, fun, and youthful. Lizzie’s brand is book nerd who doesn’t even like clubbing or gaming. It’s like watching someone date their high school librarian.

@/GridRumorsDaily: Lando is a professional athlete in peak physical condition. Can we talk about how unfair it is that he’s dating someone who might not always be able to support his lifestyle? Relationships are a two-way street.

@/AnonymousPaddockInsider: Not saying McLaren should step in, but if I were Zak Brown, I’d be strongly advising Lando to rethink his public image. This isn’t just dating—this is business.

@/F1ImageConsultant: F1 is about performance, speed, and excellence. Lizzie’s whole vibe is soft, bookish, and… honestly kinda boring. This isn’t a good match.

@/GridGirlsAndGlamour: Look at the top WAGs—models, influencers, businesswomen. Lizzie writes fantasy books and brings a dog to races. Is this really the standard now?

@/AlphaMaleMotorsport: Men in high-performance careers need high-performance partners. I’m sorry, but a woman with a chronic illness and a stack of romance novels isn’t it.

@/RedBullInsider69: Lizzie being here is cute for now, but let’s see how long it lasts. We all know these drivers eventually upgrade.

YouTube Transcript – The Apex Take Episode 236

Hosts: Mark Daniels and Ryan Foley Title: Lando’s Girlfriend: Not a Model, Not an Asset?

Mark Daniels: All right, boys, let’s talk about Lando Norris and his, uh… let’s call it an interesting taste in women. (leans back, smirks)

Ryan Foley: Oh yeah, the one who writes those, what is it, fantasy romance books? (raises eyebrow, glances at notes like he can’t believe this is real)

Mark Daniels: Yeah, yeah, the “romantasy” or whatever they call it. (laughs, shaking head) Fae warriors and soulmates and—dude, I read a summary of one, and I swear it’s like a fever dream for lonely cat ladies.

Ryan Foley: (snorting) Right? Like, Lando could have anyone. Models, actresses, influencers—the kind of women you usually see around F1. (gestures vaguely, as if motioning to an imaginary lineup of supermodels) And instead, he’s with some chick who writes books about fairy kings and, what, magical smut?

Mark Daniels: Listen, I’m sure she’s a nice girl, (mockingly raises hands in defense) but let’s be honest—she doesn’t really fit the F1 WAG mold, does she?

Ryan Foley: (blinks slowly, smirks) Not at all. I mean, no offense, but when you think of an F1 driver’s girlfriend, you picture a certain kind of woman. You know, glamorous, stylish, jet-setting with him to every race. (shrugs, leans forward like he’s about to drop some deep wisdom) And instead, this one’s at home writing… whatever the hell she writes. And she’s definitely not doing runway shows in Monaco, let’s put it that way.

Mark Daniels: Yeah, I saw people trying to hype her up like, “She’s so successful in her own right!” (air quotes, exaggerated eye roll) But let’s be real, man—she writes books for teenagers who want to date elves. That’s not exactly Victoria’s Secret material. (laughs under breath)

Ryan Foley: And let’s not even get into the whole epilepsy thing. (leans back, crosses arms like he’s about to say something so reasonable) Like, I don’t wanna be that guy, but dude, how is that not a problem for Lando? The guy’s a professional athlete, constantly traveling, constantly under pressure—does he really need the extra stress? (shakes head, looking “concerned”)

Mark Daniels: That’s what I don’t get. I mean, yeah, he says it’s not a big deal, but come on. (tilts head, voice dripping with skepticism) She’s had seizures before! What happens if she has one in the middle of a flight? Or during a huge race weekend? (shrugs like he’s just being “practical”)

Ryan Foley: (leans closer, like he’s breaking it down logically) Exactly! Look, I get that he’s into her, but at some point, you have to wonder if it’s practical. Dating in F1 isn’t normal dating. These guys don’t have time for relationships that require a ton of extra effort. (shakes head, gesturing like it’s just common sense) And you know there are plenty of women who’d make his life easier.

Mark Daniels: (laughs, shaking head again) Right? Like, dude, you’re one of the most eligible bachelors in motorsport. You don’t have to date someone who writes about magical fae prince soulmates. You could just… I don’t know, date an actual model? (mock-thinks, looking up at the ceiling like it’s a groundbreaking idea)

Ryan Foley: It’s wild, man. (scoffs, shakes head) The guy’s got millions of options, and he’s out here choosing a book nerd with a health condition. Make it make sense.

Mark Daniels: Hey, maybe he’s just a nice guy. (grins, barely hiding the condescension) Or maybe he’s in too deep and doesn’t realize it yet.

Ryan Foley: We’ll see how long it lasts. (leans back, smirking like he knows something everyone else doesn’t)

Comments: 

@/F1HotTakes: Imagine dedicating an hour-long podcast to making fun of a woman who’s literally more successful than you. Y’all really sat down and said, ‘Let’s embarrass ourselves today.’

@/BookishF1Fan: Lizzie Treshton is a New York Times bestselling author with a global fanbase, and these guys run a podcast with 12 listeners and a ring light from Amazon. Maybe let’s not act like she’s the one who’s out of place here?

@/SpeedDemon99: So we’re just gonna pretend women in F1 HAVE to be models or influencers now? God forbid a driver dates someone with a real career. 

@/FaeQueenLizzie: This is so funny because Lizzie’s books sell millions of copies. Like, she could probably buy their entire podcast setup with a week’s worth of royalties. They’re out here roasting her while she’s out-earning them in her sleep

@/McLaren4Life:  The fact that they’re talking about ‘practical’ dating like Lando’s supposed to choose his girlfriend based on convenience… bro, it’s his relationship, not a logistics issue for DHL. 

@/EpilepsyAwareness: I don’t wanna be that guy, BUT—’ Congrats, you’re exactly that guy. Imagine thinking epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love. Clown behavior. 

@/F1Fanatic23:  The misogyny, the ableism, the absolute lack of self-awareness… this podcast really has it all. Can’t wait for Lando to ignore their existence while winning podiums. 

@/RealTalkF1: Look, they could’ve phrased it better, but they’re not wrong. Lando’s lifestyle is crazy—dating someone with a serious medical condition is complicated. 

@/BigManRacing: Why is everyone mad? They just said what people were already thinking. Lizzie doesn’t fit the usual WAG mold. That’s just facts. 

@/TruthHurts: Everyone’s so sensitive. Not every comment about a woman is misogyny. They weren’t even being that harsh. 

@/WAGsAreForModels: It’s called having standards. F1 drivers date models and actresses, not some chick who writes about elf sex. Be serious. 

@/LandoDeservesBetter69: Not to be rude, but they’re kinda right. Lando could have literally anyone. Why settle?

@/NoMoreNepotism: Bet she only got famous because of Lando. No one was talking about her books before this. Typical clout-chaser behavior. 

@/F1BookClub: Imagine being so insecure that you need to dunk on a woman who’s objectively more successful than you. Anyway, y’all should read An Autumn of Fire and Stone. Great book, would recommend. 

@/LandoFan14:  Lando: actually in love with Lizzie These guys: ‘But why isn’t she a model?’ Get a life, man. 

YouTube Transcript – Full Throttle & Fiction, Episode 32

Hosts: Tessa Lane & Jamie Foster 

Title: Lando Norris, Lizzie Treshton & The Romantasy/F1 Crossover of Our Dreams

(Podcast intro music plays, fading out as the hosts settle in.)

Tessa Lane: Okay, listen. I know we’re all still emotionally recovering from this revelation, but we need to talk about how we are actually living in a dream crossover event.

Jamie Foster: We’re talking “Marvel meets Star Wars” level of unexpected but completely legendary crossover. Lando Norris, F1’s beloved chaos gremlin, is dating Lizzie Treshton, queen of romantasy and the woman who has personally ruined our lives with her books. (clutches chest dramatically)

Tessa Lane: I still can’t believe this is real. Like, my two completely separate hyperfixations just decided to collide and make the internet combust.

Jamie Foster: (laughing) Same. I’m still trying to process it. Like, I spent years sobbing over her books, and now I find out she’s dating an F1 driver? And not just any F1 driver, but Lando Freaking Norris?

Tessa Lane: It’s actually the funniest thing ever because Lizzie—who writes about tragic, brooding fae princes and fated soulmates—is out here dating the human embodiment of a golden retriever. (laughs)

Jamie Foster: (grinning) And you just know that she’s mentally rewriting Lando as some kind of mischievous trickster fae lord who causes problems on purpose but in, like, a deeply endearing way.

Tessa Lane: Oh, 1000%. The next book she writes? The love interest is going to have “chaotic, drives really fast, makes bad jokes, but is secretly a sweetheart” energy. And we’ll all just know.

Jamie Foster: (mock serious) Lizzie, blink twice if Lando has started pitching plot ideas.

Tessa Lane: No, but actually. And can we talk about how people doubted her success? Like, some people were actually out here like, “Who is she?” as if this woman isn’t a New York Times bestselling author with millions of copies sold worldwide. (shakes head in disappointment)

Jamie Foster: Like, be serious. She’s out here building fantasy empires, and people want to act like she’s just some random? No, babes, she’s the moment. Some of us have been in the trenches with her books for years. We have suffered. We have cried. We have made fanart at 3 a.m. in emotional distress.

Tessa Lane: Her Twitter alone should’ve told people she was going to be a menace to the F1 world. She’s been unhinged for years, and now she has paddock access and a platform? We’ve already won.

Jamie Foster: Oh, she is going to thrive in this environment. Like, imagine her at a Grand Prix, just casually tweeting something like, “The real battle today is Charles vs. Carlos, but if either of them crash, I am writing them into my next book as cursed lovers destined for war.”

Tessa Lane: (wheezing) No, but let’s talk about the most important part of this entire situation—Mara. Lizzie’s Labrador service dog, aka the only WAG that matters.

Jamie Foster: Mara is a cultural reset. This dog is already more famous than half the grid. Like, she has fan edits. She has fan accounts. I saw someone tweet, “Mara could win a championship before Ferrari at this rate,” and I haven’t known peace since.

Tessa Lane: (mock gasps) Speaking of Ferrari… LIZZIE. IS. A. FERRARI. FAN. And not just casually. Like, she’s been ride or die for Ferrari since childhood. She’s a full-on Tifosi.

Jamie Foster: I just need to know… did she absolutely lose her mind when Lewis Hamilton announced he was moving to Ferrari? Did she faint? Did she ascend? Did she write a 10,000-word emotional essay about how this is the greatest thing to ever happen to the sport? Because I feel like she did.

Tessa Lane: Oh, she definitely had a meltdown. Like, I just imagine Lando coming home and finding her sitting in complete silence, staring at a Ferrari poster, just whispering, “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

Jamie Foster: (laughing) And meanwhile, Lando’s standing there like, “So… you’re gonna support me at McLaren, right?” And Lizzie just does not answer.

Tessa Lane: (grinning) She’s just like, “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.”

Jamie Foster: Honestly, this entire thing is the best thing to happen to F1 pop culture in years. Final thoughts?

Tessa Lane: Lizzie Treshton is an icon. Lando is lucky. Mara is royalty. And the romantasy x F1 crossover is the serotonin boost we all needed.

Jamie Foster: Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, everyone go pre-order Lizzie’s next book and prepare for the chaos she’s about to unleash in the paddock. (blows kiss to camera, grinning)

(Outro music fades in as the episode ends.)

Comments: 

@/FaerieQueen89: I swear I opened this video thinking, “No way, this crossover is real,” and now I’m emotionally INVESTED. Lizzie Treshton writing romantasy by day and attending McLaren garage debriefs by night is the kind of duality I aspire to.

@/Mara4WDC: Mara being the first Labrador to achieve WAG status is actually the most important part of this. Somebody get her a tiny team jacket and a paddock pass.

@/TifosiTears: “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.” SCREAMING The fact that Lizzie is a lifelong Ferrari fan and her fave driver is Lewis Hamilton makes this 1000x funnier. Lando fighting for his life against her deeply rooted Ferrari loyalty.

@/BookishChaos: Can’t wait for Lizzie’s next book where the broody, fae warrior prince just happens to have suspiciously Lando-esque traits. Like, “his eyes gleamed with mischief as he smirked, trouble always one step behind him.”

@/CertifiedMcLarenMenace:  Lando: “You’re supporting me at McLaren, right?” Lizzie: intensely staring at a Ferrari poster “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

@/F1AndFantasyForever:  I was today years old when I realized my two greatest hyperfixations could actually merge into one chaotic, beautiful mess. We are LIVING in the golden age.

@/ElvenKissesAndRaceCars: Romantasy book fans: crying over soulmates and prophecy-driven love stories F1 fans: crying over tire degradation and strategy calls Me, now realizing I can be BOTH: SOBBING IN ITALIAN

@/MaraStan69: Mara supremacy. She’s the real main character. Lizzie and Lando are just side quests in her journey to world domination.

@/LandoPlsConfirm:  I need Lando to address this IMMEDIATELY. Does he know his girlfriend’s books have emotionally destroyed half the internet? Does he know we have trauma?

@/ChaosGremlinXL: I came for the F1 gossip. I stayed because now I need to read every book Lizzie has ever written.

@/MaxForMara: Someone please put Mara in a Ferrari cap so we can confirm which team she supports. This is IMPORTANT.

@/McLarenBookClub: If you had told me last year that one of the most successful romantasy authors on the planet would be dating Lando Norris, I would have laughed. And yet, here we are. The crossover NOBODY predicted, but EVERYONE needed.

@/FaerieTalesAndFastLaps: Lizzie going from writing about fae warriors to sitting in the McLaren garage like it’s totally normal… Ma’am, are you aware you are LIVING in a fantasy novel? The girl with epilepsy who was never supposed to have this life, thriving in a world of speed, chaos, and international fame. Like, GIVE US THE BOOK.

@/WitchesAndWheelTracks: Me: “I don’t have time for a new hyperfixation.” Also me: scrolling through every single Lizzie Treshton tweet and trying to find evidence of Lando references in her books

@/RedBullButMakeItRomantasy: The way she could write a book about the F1 grid as if they were a fantasy court and it would SELL. Max as the battle-worn fae king. Lando as the mischievous prince who never takes things seriously until he does. Charles as the tragic heir with a prophecy on his shoulders. IT WRITES ITSELF.

@/TifosiTrash: Lando really fell for a girl who would 1000% choose Ferrari in a heartbeat. The irony is delicious.

@/JustHereForMara: Mara being the unexpected star of this relationship is something I deeply respect. She’s not just a service dog, she’s a cultural icon.

@/RomantasyAndRacing:  Lizzie fans: “She has changed our lives with her writing.” F1 fans: “She has changed our lives by making Lando’s life infinitely funnier.”

@/IlPredestinatoWife: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT LIZZIE MET LEWIS HAMILTON. THIS WOMAN HAS BEEN A FERRARI FAN HER WHOLE LIFE. HER FAVORITE DRIVER IS LEWIS. DID SHE CRY? DID SHE PANIC? LANDO, GIVE US THE BEHIND-THE-SCENES.

@/ElvenQueenOfSpa:  This woman has had multiple New York Times bestsellers, a legendary romantasy series, a loyal fanbase that would riot for her… and now she’s dating one of the biggest names in F1. She is the moment.

@/Gasly’sCroissant:  Does this mean Lando is now legally required to read her books? I need this man live-reacting to An Autumn of Fire and Stone.

@/MaraForPaddockPass:  Mara needs a tiny headset. I need Lando to carry her into the paddock like the royalty she is.

@/ChaosGoblinV2:  Lando: “Babe, can you come to my race?” Lizzie: in a Ferrari shirt, holding a Lewis Hamilton book “Uhhhhh….”

@/KnightOfMcLaren:  Her books are all about fate, destiny, and soulmates. I need to know if she secretly believes she and Lando are fated. I NEED ANSWERS.

@/SoftForSoulmates: Lando and Lizzie being a thing is proof that life is just a long, weird fantasy novel and we are all side characters.

[iinthehexcore]

the last drop

summary: Work could be hard to find in the Undercity. Thankfully, you had found a job - at the Last Drop.

content: probably ooc silco, reader works at the last drop, silco saves you from a drunk dude, nothing too crazy, requested but not proofread! 1396 words

a/n: i have never written for silco before but he is one of my favorite characters! hope i did him justice wahaha!! i used 'jinx fixes everything' as a reference for the layout of the last dropw

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Work, especially work that is not... completely illegal, was hard to find in Zaun. Safe work, even less. But as someone who had grown up on the cold and harsh streets, you would take anything you could find. The Last Drop - last you had seen it, Vander owned it. It was the heart of the Undercity, the one warm place in the cold town. But Vander disappeared, and someone else took it over. Not as warm and inviting, but it was your best bet at a stable job.

The woman who interviewed you - if it could even be seen as an interview - only nodded, telling you to be there the day after at seven p.m. sharp. One minute later, and she would come find you.

Well, it was easy to say that you even turned up early. You did not want to know what would have happened if you hadn't. When you walked in to the empty bar, you saw another bartender.

"Hey," he looked up, throwing the towel on his shoulder, "You're the new bartender?"

"Starting today," you nervously said, pulling at your shirt.

"Cool," he nodded, "I'm Thieram. I'll help you your first few shifts."

Working with Thieram was fun. He was familiar with all the people who came into the bar, telling you funny stories of what they did while drunk and betting on who would be the most drunk that night. He even went to split up a fight that had broken out. Even though you had worked here for a little over a month now, you had yet to see the big boss.

The lady who interviewed you, Sevika, frequently sat at the booth hidden in the corner. In front of her always sat a glass or bottle of booze, depending on how her day went, together with some playing cards and a cigarette. Today, however, the bar was completely empty.

Either it was because there was finally a bit of sunshine in Zaun, or maybe a natural disaster was heading your way without you knowing. Even Thieram wasn't at work - something about 'another job needing to be done'. It left you alone with only one drunk man in the far corner of the bar. Only you, the drunk man, and a bucket of water.

If there was nothing else to do, then you could just clean. Though you truly care about Thieram, you could tell that deep cleaning wasn't his strongest suit. You had finally rid the ceiling of spiderwebs with the help of a chair, a stick, and a rag that was nearly falling apart. Sweeping the floor, wiping the tables, and lastly, cleaning up behind the bar.

Every bottle got neatly placed in their spots and the wood was nearly shining now that all the dirt and grime was wiped off of it. The pipes above your head had no more dust on them and even the lightbulbs were now clean.

As you were about to throw your towel down, you heard footsteps on the stairs. You never went up those - you knew Silco had his office up there. There was simply no need for you to be even near it.

Were you supposed to look him in the eye? Maybe not. Maybe you shouldn't even speak until he spoke to you. But it would be rude to not acknowledge him at all, too. You had no time to go over your options as you heard one of the bar chairs scratching against the floor.

There sat Silco.

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a moment. You, terrified. Him, almost curious.

"You are the new barmaid."

Not even a question.

He knew the answer. Sevika had told him about a handful of people coming to find a job, but she thought you the most capable one. Not addicted to Shimmer, seemingly healthy enough, and Thieram told her you were good at your job.

"I am, sir."

He only lowly hummed as you turned to grab a glass and the bottle of alcohol that was meant for Silco. Thieram made sure to remind you where it was multiple times - only the boss could have this. Unless he said the opposite, he would always get a glass poured for him. So, you did.

You carefully put it in front of the man, not sure if you should say anything. He didn't seem like someone who really did any small talk anyway.

"Did Thieram put you up to this?"

"Up to what, sir?"

He shook his head.

"It's Silco," he lit his cigar, raising the glass to his lips, "And the cleaning."

"No, si-Silco," you corrected yourself, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, "Wasn't sure what else to do, so I thought that I might as well."

It was hard to read him. All he did was hum in response, downing the rest of the gold liquid before disappearing back upstairs again.

Two weeks had passed, and thankfully, Thieram was back. The pub was packed - inside people were nearly sitting on top of one another, and the crowd even went on outside of the bar. You heard laughter, talking, screaming, a bang every so often. Sevika, back in her usual spot, just kept an eye out. As you glanced over, you saw her glass nearly empty.

Sevika and you weren't... friends. No one in the Undercity necessarily had friends. But you were both... friendly, at least. If no curse words or glares was considered friendly. What you had learned was that she liked to have her glass full, so you grabbed her usual bottle, stepping past some drunk guys before standing next to Sevika.

No words were exchanged as you filled up her cup, wiping away some spills as she nodded in response. More than enough, you thought. With a slight smile, you twisted the cap back on the bottle, turning to walk back to the bar.

Halfway through, though, your path was blocked. The group of drunks, the jugs in their hands nearly empty. You knew that these weren't their first ones, either. You took a deep breath, trying to squeeze past them, but it was simply impossible.

"Ah, look here," one of the men coughed, grinning weirdly, "The new barmaid!"

"Yes, and the new barmaid would like it if she could go by," you mumbled, the glass bottle in your hands.

The men looked at each other before loudly erupting into laughter. One jokingly wiped his non-existent tears away, shaking his head.

"Why? We not fun enough for ya?"

"Yeah, come on," the one in the middle leaned over, his face uncomfortably close to yours, "We're good guys, I swear."

"If you were, then you would let me pass."

He whistled, circling you as he now stood behind. There was still no way of getting through though - his friends just moved closer together, blocking your exit.

"Big mouth for a barmaid," he grumbled, "Maybe someone should teach you to shut up."

"You think so?"

A voice, raspy and low, accompanied by the smell of cigars. You slowly turned your gaze away from the terrifying man in front of you, your eyes falling on Silco. The man was hard to miss, but what was even harder to miss was the shining pistol he held in his hand, aimed at the man who had been bothering you.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow, cocking the gun, "At a loss for words?"

The man and his friends didn't say anything, the glasses in their hands shaking as they nervously looked at Silco. He just rolled his eyes in annoyance, pressing the gun against the man his temple before gesturing to the door.

"Get out."

You nearly let out a relieved sigh, holding the bottle close to your chest as you looked back at the ground. You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn your head. Silco looked down at you for a moment before pushing the gun back into the holster.

"They will not bother you anymore."

He glanced at Sevika who downed her glass in return, wiping her mouth before nodding at the redhead next to her, both walking out of the bar. They could handle it.

"Thank you, Silco."

"No need to thank me," he glanced at the bar, seeing Thieram busy with all the other customers, "A drink will do."

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 11: The Interview

Note: Didn’t really plan on making a chapter like this, but I thought we were overdue some filler before we got into some real drama. Enjoy!

You let out a loud agitated sigh as you power down your computer and slouch in your office chair.

Since you got back from Metropolis, you’ve been working on a free update to thank all your players for their support and voting to make Salvage Rights the Indie Game of the Year; working on an update that’ll satisfy the players and be easy to develop and implement was difficult enough, but all the drama with the Waynes made it even harder.

It’s been four fucking years since you left Gotham! Even when you moved back to Goodsprings, you couldn’t help but think about all they’d done to you, from Bruce acting like you’re an intruder in his “perfect” house to Damian being your personal demon. You’d managed to put hundreds of miles between yourself and them, but they still managed to have a hold on you. Sure, you knew you were in a home you owned fair and square, not Wayne Manor, but there were still instances where you caught yourself looking over your shoulder to make sure no one was behind you or peeking around corners to make sure a room was empty before you walked in.

Even with the Megamycete constantly reminding you, it took you the better part of a year to get it through your head that you no longer needed the survival tactics that had kept you alive in Wayne Manor as you’re the only one in your house.

It’s taken the last three years, but you were finally ready to move on with your life, look towards the future and leave Gotham, Bruce Wayne, and his merry band of bastards behind. You published your game, people loved it almost immediately, and you had been rewarded for your efforts with fame and fortune.

You finally free and could actually be happy for the first time in years.

Now, he and his children come and plague you, trying to drag you back to the place you hated from day one.

He made it clear that he never considered you his son (hell, what he said the night those three bastards kidnapped you proved that), always showering Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian with a fatherly love you had slowly realized would never be meant for you and shoved you aside in favor of showcasing the children he was proud of. Eventually, you were forgotten by both Bruce Wayne and the larger world as no one in Gotham’s media class ever asked where you were, why weren’t you with them at this party, or when was he planning on throwing you your own introductory gala like his other kids.

As time went on, you took steps to separate yourself from him, never telling anyone who your father was and only accepting Gould as your proper last name (although if you ever found some guy to marry you, you’d definitely be open to changing your last name).

Then, that son of a bitch shows up and ruins everything, your face plastered all over the news, primarily in Gotham and Metropolis, and you can’t go anywhere without people staring, whispering, and bombarding you with several questions (many of them being if you could set them up with your “siblings”).

You were finally living the life you’d dreamed about and he had to go and ruin it! You’d known that Bruce Wayne is a miserable motherfucker who can’t stand to see anyone around him to be happy (you’d listened in on plenty of arguments between him and the others whenever one of them tried to strike out on their own to figure that out), but you never thought that he’d be so petty he’d try to drag you, the son he never wanted, back when he saw you happy for once in your life.

You look down at your hands and imagine what it’d feel like to have them wrapped around his neck, squeezing the life out of him and seeing him realize that despite his strength as Batman, he was powerless compared to you; the relief you would feel as you saw the life leave his eyes as he accepted that the son he never wanted was the instrument of his destruction.

You revel in the brief sensation of satisfaction that passes through you from your daydream.

(You may get your wish,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out for your fantasy.

“How do you figure?”

It doesn’t answer, but you feel sensations of anxiety and apprehension radiate from it.

“What’s wrong,” you say, getting a little afraid.

Over the last four years, you’d never known the Megamycete to be afraid of anything.

So, seems like things are about to go from bad to worse in your life.

(We reached out to the Bats. They know of both our existence and our bond with you.)

“What,” you exclaim, standing up from your chair. “You told them? Why?”

(We thought we could reason with them for you. They—)

“How could you do that? Now they know about you! They weren’t going to stop coming and my only ace in the hole is you! I’ve lost that advantage thanks to you! For a sentient mushroom that has the knowledge of thousands of people, that was a pretty stupid thing to do!”

You’re pissed. Really pissed.

You had a feeling that the night with Bruce at the Gala wasn’t the end of things and all of his children visiting you proved it. The Bats have made it clear they’ll do whatever they must to accomplish their goals and for whatever reason, they’ve decided you’re their goal.

Sure, you went overboard a little demonstating your strength when dealing with Jason and Damian, but that they had no idea your strength came from the Megamycete and that was only the surface what you were capable of. If they decided to come at you in force, they were in one hell of a surprise when you fabricated hardened mold armor right in front of them and do to them what you did to Joker. You know they’ve fought plenty of villains with powers, but the mold is stronger than all of them combined and you’d make them regret ever meeting you as you tear them apart and scatter their intestines across the ground.

But now, thanks to the Megamycete, they know that you’re not alone and who knows what else?

(We are sorry,) it says, its tone remorseful. (We thought we could persuade them to leave you alone. We were wrong.)

“Yeah, no shit! If they weren’t listening to me, what made you think they would listen to you? Hell, you know how Bruce feels about metas, knowing I’m one probably made things worse! He’s probably making some cage to hold me right now!”

You tap into the roots scattered around Gotham and focus on Wayne Manor, but are surprised to find you’re unable to connect.

(They have started removing our roots. We have accelerated the growth of the surrounding roots, but they are taking steps to prevent their regrowth.)

“So, we have no idea what they’re planning. Great, that’s just great. Terrific job, man. Really, just superb.”

(We thought we could help.)

You exhale a sigh and wave a hand through your hair, trying to come up with a plan on where to go next.

“How did it go down, exactly? What happened?”

The Megamycete uploads its meeting with them into your brain and it flashes before your eyes, from the Megamycete torturing some of them by turning into their dead ones to them learning about you killing your would-be murderers and Joker and Harley.

You thought you hated Bruce Wayne enough, but apparently you don’t hate that man enough.

How someone can be so delusional is astounding to say the least. Honestly, he deserves to be thrown in Arkham and studied, along with all the others.

They ignore you for most of your life and treat you like shit and now that you’re finally happy, they want to drag you back to Gotham.

And why?

Because they “love you?”

Bullshit.

They feel guilty and they just want to feel better. You know no one in that damn house is capable of feeling real love and once they feel better about themselves, they’ll go right back to ignoring you.

(They are truly delusional. They think their past behavior does not matter and you should be brought back to their fold.)

Yeah, you got that from Jason. The bastard wasn’t able to get away from Bruce and Gotham (because despite all his bluster, all he wants is that man’s approval) and because he couldn’t do it, he thinks you shouldn’t be able to.

Selfish, all of them.

“You fucked up. They were going to find out eventually, but thanks to you, we’re gonna have to deal with them sooner than we expected.”

(We know. We overestimated our abilities and brought trouble upon you. We apologize. Truly, we do.)

You understand where its heart was in the right place, but it still doesn’t change the fact that the Bats are probably going to be breaking down your door any day now.

Just then, there’s a knock at your door, making you freeze.

Shit, are they already here? Are they in regular clothes or are they in their capes and cowls? Are they really that desperate to bring you back to Gotham that they’d really raid your house in the middle of the day for anyone walking by to see?

You tap into the roots surrounding your house and see not Bruce Wayne or any of his kids darkening your door. Instead, you see a black haired woman dressed professionally standing on your porch.

“Who the hell is she?”

(We do not know. She is definitely not a resident of Gotham as we do not recognize her.)

That certainly doesn’t make you feel better. You know Bruce is resourceful as hell and isn’t afraid to use any dirty trick in the book to get what he wants.

(She does not appear to have ill intents. She is too delicate-looking to pose a threat to you, nor is her purse large enough to hold a weapon large enough to harm you.)

Looks can be deceiving. After all, Bruce is a member of the Justice League, where Martian Manhunter is and you can see Bruce using the alien to transform and trick you into lowering your guard. When that man gets obsessed over something, he doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

Still, you can speculate to the moon and back, but until you open the door and talk to the woman, you’ll never know for certain. Sure, it could be related to your current Bat problem, or it could be something else.

So, you walk through your house and up to your door.

“Who is it,” you call out.

“Lois Lane, Daily Planet,” she responds. “I’m here to ask Y/N Gould for an interview.”

Lois Lane? You’ve heard Bruce and the others say that name when talking about Metropolis and Superman and you’ve seen the name when reading a few news articles for school assignments, but you’ve never seen any pictures of her, so you had no idea the woman standing on your doorstep is the very woman famous for being one of the very few reputable journalists left in the world.

You unlock the door and open it just enough to stick your head out to see her face to face. You look into her eyes and see no ill intent or hidden motives.

“Mr. Gould, I presume,” she asks, a gentle smile on her face.

“You want an interview with me? What for?”

“Your relation with Bruce Wayne. As I’m sure you know, he’s the most famous man in Gotham, if he so much as sneezes in public, several news articles are written to publish it. Gotham’s media has always covered whenever he adopted another child, but out of nowhere, he appears at a video game awards ceremony and claims you’re his son and you call him a sperm donor. No one can forget when Damian Wayne appeared at a gala and was declared Bruce Wayne’s biological son. It made quite the stir when you pushed him and made it clear you had nothing but animosity towards him.”

Oh yes, you can remember the many days of fawning Damian got when he moved into the manor, leaving you bitter since all you got was a few minutes of people asking about your mother before forgetting about you in favor of all the others.

“What is it you want,” you say, trying to remain polite. “I lost years thanks to Gotham and Bruce Wayne and I’m not eager to lose any more dwelling in the past.”

“I want to hear your side of the story,” she says with a determination that surprises you. “You clearly suffered due to him and I want to help you tell your story to the world.”

You’re actually speechless at that. You know pretty much all of Gotham worships at the Alter of Wayne and his influence expands far beyond the city’s borders, leaving very few people willing to hear anything that would portray him in a negative light. It’s very safe to say Gotham is a cathedral dedicated to both Bruce Wayne and Batman.

To hear that someone with a reputation and influence like Lois Lane would want to listen to you and help you tell others your life’s story is nothing less of a shocker.

“I can’t say you’ll like what I have to say, Ms. Lane,” you say as you open the door wide and stand in the doorway. “I know Bruce Wayne is an institution of Gotham, but I can tell you that wasn’t my experience.”

“This isn’t about my opinion on Bruce Wayne or any of his children. This is about what you experienced during your stay in Wayne Manor.”

“And how much are you wanting to know?”

“Everything. Or, as much or as little you’re willing to tell me.”

Her words strike you to your core. It’s been years since you’ve had anyone really interested in what you have to say. Sure, Alfred was always willing to listen to you, but you learned early on that you had to hold back on how you really felt about Bruce Wayne and his children as any criticism you had about them was a failure on his part.

The poor man did the best he could, but those people are clearly beyond any form of help outside of being locked in padded cells.

“Come in, please,” you say, steeping aside so she could enter your home. Once she’s in, you close the door and lead her to the living room. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, soda?”

“Anything’s fine, thank you.”

She sits on the couch while you rush to the kitchen and prepare two glasses of ice water, a crystal pitcher full of more water, and a small bowl full of grapes and load it all onto a tray and carry it back to the living room. This is the first time you’ve ever had a guest and you want to make a good impression.

“So, where would you like to start,” you ask as you sit in your favorite chair, your glass of water in hand.

“I’d like to ask about your mother, if that’s alright,” she answers, pulling out a writing pad and pen from her purse. “I managed to find newspapers relating to you around the time you moved to Gotham, but they were very few and none of them had anything regarding your mother or your past.”

You stifle a chuckle at the thought of being one the front page of a few newspapers no doubt rotting in the Gotham Gazette’s archives. You were probably the center of news for all a week before Bruce adopted Tim and stole the spotlight, leading to the tradition of you being pushed further and further back whenever Bruce collected another troubled kid.

“My mom was Maria Gould, a famous writer known for romance novels set during the Age of Sail.”

“That Maria Gould,” she asks, looking up from her notepad in shock. “I didn’t know you were related to her?”

“You know her?”

“I was an avid reader of her books.” She gives a small chuckle. “I actually use to daydream of interviewing her when I first started at the Daily Planet.” He smile then shifts into a sympathetic frown. “I remember reading about her death in the paper. I knew it said she had a son, but I didn’t see the connection until now.”

“She died on my sixth birthday. It’s been sixteen years since that day and I can still remember it so clearly.”

That day haunts you to this day. You got to school so happy and excited for Momma to come pick you up after school, thinking about how much pizza you’d eat and what presents you’d get.

You had no idea that when you told her bye that day, it would be for the last time.

(Your grief is still so profound, even after all this time.)

That day ended in the loss of your Momma and your life went from bad to worse when Alfred picked you up and brought you to Gotham to live with that bastard.

“I can tell you loved you very much,” she responds, her expression sympathetic.

“Yeah,” you say, suppressing a tear. “Yeah, I did.”

“So, did you have any idea who your father was? Did she ever tell you or did you ever ask?”

“Yeah, I did ask when all my friends were celebrating Father’s Day and I realized I didn’t have a Daddy like my friends. She said that she didn’t know who he was. She didn’t say it, but when she said she was “young and dumb,” I later found out that meant she got drunk and had sex with a guy she didn’t know.” A ghost of a smile graces your face. “She said when I came along, I set her on the right path.”

“I say you did,” she responds, returning your smile. “Being a parent often makes people turn their lives around.” She jots something down in her pad before looking back at you. “So, when did you move to Gotham?”

“Immediately after the funeral. The sheriff drove me back home to pack up most of my stuff and when we got to the house, Alfred was waiting for me.”

“Wait, Bruce Wayne didn’t pick you up himself?”

“No, Alfred said he was too busy with work and couldn’t come.”

“His firstborn son loses his son and he couldn’t even make the time to get you,” she angrily mutters to herself as she writes. “And how did he react when he saw you?”

“It was almost like he was staring at a stranger in his home.”

You can still remember how you felt when you met Bruce Wayne for the first time; it was the first time you’d ever felt like someone didn’t like you and it really hurt.

“He barely said a word to me before telling Alfred he was going out.”

“Doing what,” she asks, clearly getting angrier and angrier by the second.

For a brief moment, you entertain the idea on ousting Bruce’s dirty little secret and telling the world that he’s Batman. He’d be drowning in so much attention and legal battles that he wouldn’t be able to bother you ever again.

But then, the rational part of your brain convinces you that by telling everyone Batman’s secret identity would invite a lot of trouble your way. After all, all of Bruce’s kids are vigilantes, so many would automatically assume you were one as well, leading you to being dragged into Bruce’s legal and publicity quagmire.

Also, there’s the very real possibility that all of Bruce’s enemies would come after you seeking revenge and while you were more than capable of dealing with whatever came your way, you’d really rather not deal with it altogether.

“I don’t know,” you say. “He said he had work to do, but this is Bruce Wayne we’re talking about. Chances are he was in some sleazy club with a girl on each side and one on her knees if you know what I mean.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” she agrees. “Now, a week after you moved to Wayne Manor, Bruce adopted Tim Drake. Did you two get along?”

You bark a bitter laugh. “He took one look at me and decided I wasn’t worth his attention. If you ask me, there’s always been something wrong with him. He’s always watching people, taking note of everything they do and obsessing over finding out his secrets. If you ask me, he’s not right and his parents knew it. That’s why they were always leaving him behind when they went to dig sites or parties.”

She’s definitely interested in that as she seemingly writes down everything you said, word for word.

She stifle a chuckle at the thought of Tim Drake being asked what the fuck’s wrong with him every time he goes anywhere.

“What about Dick Grayson? Everyone in Gotham says he’s everything a good big brother should be.”

Yes, you remember the celebration he got when the Gotham Gazette named him the World’s Best Big Brother for the tenth year in a row.

A celebration you weren’t invited to.

“He was a brother to me. When I first moved in, he always carved out time for Tim, but couldn’t give me the time of day. After being blown off a few dozen times in favor for of his other siblings, I eventually stopped asking him.”

“What about Jason Todd?”

“He gave me a black eye when we met.” She gasps at that. “Yeah, he’s a brute. He’s always going on about Jane Austen, but underneath that veneer of an intellectual, he’s Crime Alley trash. Honestly, Bruce should’ve just left him in that part of Gotham. With his poor anger management and proclivity for violence, he’d fit right in. Animals belong in the wild.”

“What about your half brother, Damian Wayne?”

“That little shit pulled a sword on me and nearly tried to take my head off.”

“He what?”

“Yeah, an actual sword. I was able to get out of the way, but he gave me a scar on my cheek. It took me a few years, but I was able to find a way to make it invisible, especially when I looked in the mirror. Every time I saw it, it reminded me of how little I mattered in that house.”

“What did Bruce Wayne do? Surely he knew about it?”

“He was in the room when it happened. All he did was carry him out while he was yelling insults about me and my Momma. And Dick said he had a difficult upbringing and I should forgive him.”

“Forgive him for almost killing you,” she exclaims, her eyes wide as saucers and a look of disgust on her face. “You can’t be serious!”

“I wish I was, Ms. Lane, but Dick’s made it clear that Damian’s his favorite and had he managed to kill me, I’m sure Dick would’ve just taken him out for ice cream and told him that he can’t go around killing people.” You let out a bitter laugh. “You know, he had some nerve calling my Momma a ‘whore’ when I know the secret about his mother.”

“You do,” she asks, leaning forward, her pen and pad ready, indicating you have her full and undivided attention. “Everyone’s asked Bruce about the identity of Damian’s mother and the details relating to the birth, but he’s told us nothing. Are you willing to shed some light on this?”

For a brief moment, you actually ask yourself if this is right. With all the things Damian’s done to you, is it really acceptable to tell the dirty little secret regarding his conception? After all, if you were in his shoes, you’d kill to ensure your secret never saw the light of day.

(But he would not hesitate to tell the world your secret if your situations were reversed,) the Megamycete chimes in. (And does he not deserve some comeuppance for his many transgressions against you?)

You have to admit, it has a point. And besides, this’ll give the Wayne Family a massive shitstorm they’ll have to deal with and your mind’s immediately made up.

“I know her name, but I don’t want her coming after me, so I’m afraid that part of the secret stays with me.” Lois nods, so you continue. “His mother raped him.”

She gasps and you know you’ve passed a point of no return now.

Then again, daring to defy the “great” Bruce Wayne was a point of no return, so this is just adding fuel to the fire.

“She drugged his drink and got him to agree to sleep with her, all for the sole purpose of getting pregnant because she believed him to be of a superior quality.” You lower your voice to mutter, “I can tell you she was greatly misled.”

After that, the interview breezed by, asking about how Steph and Cass treated you to the conditions you were kept in. You told her everything, about how Damian would go out of his way to make you miserable to how Bruce couldn’t be bothered to do anything for you and it was Alfred that kept you alive. In fact, it was only the poor butler that seemed to care about you and you were confident that had you died, Bruce would just be pissed about the inconvenience your death caused him, from having to find a place to bury you to making up a story to tell the media.

It was only when you told her the story involving Damian and your Momma’s pen did you realize that not only was she crying, but so were you.

You knew how that memory made you feel, but had forgotten how much it pained you until you told her every detail. Funny how the brain tries so hard to suppress the worst moments of your life.

“Why do you think they treated you like this,” she asks, trying to keep her voice even to disguise the fact she’s obviously upset. “From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like they really didn’t see you as a Wayne.”

“Because I was the consequence of Bruce’s stupidity. He got drunk and did something stupid, leading to me, and he didn’t like that he was forced to live with him and ruin his family’s image. And because I was normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yes, normal. I had a normal life with Momma while all of the have colorful backgrounds. And I’d like to think that I’m average looking and averagely intelligent with nothing special about me, compared to everyone in the Wayne Family, who always thing their the best looking and smartest people in the room. Plus, I wasn’t damaged goods until Bruce Wayne came into my life. I guess the tragic death of my Momma wasn’t enough for him to make him love me.”

Those words cause you to let out a choked sob as more and more memories of your time in Wayne Manor start surfacing, memories you’d prefer to keep buried.

“I think that’s enough reminiscing for one day,” you say, wiping your eyes and standing up.

“Yes, I think I have everything I need,” she says, doing the same thing.

“Is there anything I can get you before you go, Ms. Lane,” you ask as you lead her to the front door. “Maybe a drink or a snack for the road?”

One of Alfred’s many lessons was how to be a good host and he’d flip out if you didn’t offer her something.

“No, thank you, Mr. Gould, you’ve given me more than enough.” She hesitates for a moment before getting close to you, her arms at both your sides. You freeze up, thinking the worst is about to happen when you realize she’s hugging you. “I’m so sorry for your loss and what you had to go through growing up. No one should ever have to experience such neglect.”

Outside of Alfred, it’s been years since anyone’s hugged you. Last time you were hugged by anyone not the butler was when Momma first died; Goodsprings is the type of where everyone knows everyone and you’re pretty sure you had the entire town giving you hugs before and during the funeral.

“Thank you,” you whisper, returning the hug.

“I know it doesn’t undo the damage he’s done, but I promise this story will make everyone see who Bruce Wayne truly is.”

And with that, you two separate and you wave goodbye as she gets in her car and drives off.

(You made the right decision to tell her everything,) the Megamycete says as you close and lock your door. (We must say, we are surprised you chose not to tell her their roles as Gotham’s vigilantes. Surely the benefits of exposing them outweigh the projected consequences. Or at least balance out.)

“Believe me, I was plenty tempted, but having the enemies of Batman knocking down my door would be more trouble than it was worth. Sure, I could kill them all, but it would only be a matter of time until I was put in a situation where too many people would ask too many questions.”

“We see your point. Besides, her story will no doubt cause more than enough trouble for him and his band of misfits.”

A part of you makes you wish you were back in Gotham so you could see the backlash Bruce is about to be hit with.

Granted, it’s a small part, practically microscopic, but it’s still there.

“I understand, but—“ Bruce says before hearing a click, indicating the call has been ended.

“Another bad phone call, Master Bruce,” Alfred says as holds out a cup of tea.

“Yes,” he sighs, putting his phone in his pocket and taking the cup with one hand and rubbing his temples with the other. “The Humanitarian Ball. The event organizers said they didn’t want ‘cruel and heartless monsters’ bringing a bad name on their event.”

Ever since Lois Lane’s article titled The Forsaken Gould of the Wayne Family came out two days ago, he’s experienced set back after set back; in less than forty-eight hours, Wayne Enterprises’ stock has lost half its value, many large companies have dropped out of their business deals, and more than a few people have withdrawn their invitations for high-profile events.

But none of that compares to the massive gap between you and him getting even larger. He knew that he’d wronged you, but being able to read it in black and white just drives the point even further.

He just wishes that it could’ve stayed between you, him, and your siblings. His family may be celebrities in Gotham, but he prefers to handle the family’s drama behind closed doors.

He’s held his family together through thick and thin and he’ll continue to do so.

And he’s had a hard time doing that over the past two days.

He’s read and reread that article ever since it came out, unable to go a single day without looking at it. He had no idea that he made you feel like you were a mistake he felt embarrassed over or that because you weren’t anything like them, you weren’t worthy of his love.

He knows he’s failed you, but he wants to fix all of it! He wants to embrace you and never let go and to put you up on a pedestal for all of Gotham to bask in and know that you’re the most treasured member of the Wayne Family.

But until they find a way to rid that mushroom in your body and bring you back home, they can’t start fixing their mistakes.

The media’s had a field day with the article ever since it came out, hounding them every time they go out in public, asking them how they could sleep at night knowing they kept you in tiny guest room on the other side of the manor or about how Bruce could treat the son born from Talia drugging him with such love while treating the son born from a drunken one-night stand with such disdain.

He was shocked to learn that you knew of them being the Bats, but to learn you knew the truth regarding Damian’s birth…

Just how much did you know? Did he ignore you so much that he didn’t know you were nearby whenever he talked about anything, even sensitive information that he only talked to Alfred about.

Were you practically invisible to him the entire time you lived here?

Of course, Damian’s pissed that people are calling Talia a rapist and asking if he knew. All this made him a powder keg ready to go off, but what made him really go off was when one of his more elitist classmates made the snide remark that Damian was right to treat you like he did because you came from “some low class author” and simply weren’t worthy of being a member of high society, his son broke the boy’s nose and said he wasn’t worthy of saying your name.

He really wished Damian would’ve let him handle it by framing his parents for tax evasion and illegal business dealings (of course, he still did it, that little shit should’ve known better than to think he had the right to even think about you). They already have enough problems on their plate, they don’t need to add assault to it.

Dick really took it hard when he read that you didn’t think of him as a big brother and Lois Lane had called for him to be stripped of his status of Gotham’s Best Big Brother.

If there’s one thing Dick holds dear in this world, it’s his status as the family’s big brother and would bend over backwards for any of his siblings, be it driving them to the other side of Gotham or helping them with a case.

Dick already felt bad when he realized he’s always ignored you in favor of his other siblings, but that article pushed him over the edge, making his oldest son lose his trademark energetic behavior, choosing to spend all his time in your old room. And if Bruce is very quiet and he creeps close to the door, he can hear Dick’s muffled weeping and apologies.

His heart breaks for his oldest. If he could, he’d undo his and his children’s wrongdoings towards you and bare the memory of it if it meant you being here, where you belong, and not hating them.

Jason also took it hard; Jason knows that he has a problem with his temper and has tried everything under the sun to keep it under control, but his upbringing in Crime Alley and his torture and death at Joker’s hands have left marks on him that he’ll be dealing with for the rest of his life (and Bruce would pay any price to undo them). Jason regrets taking his anger for him out on you when he returned, thinking you were another “replacement” like Tim when he sees you and him had so much in common, you’re practically related.

Tim’s sequestered himself in his room, glued to his computer desk; he’d been in your old room almost everyday ever since they learned of their neglect towards you, thinking the almost bare room would provide some glimpse into your mind that he can use to get into your good graces and make you return home. After the article, many of them tried to rationalize that this Megamycete was twisting your mind and make you hate them so much, but that’s when Tim admitted that he found an old journal of yours, going back to when you first moved in and detailing everything they’d done to you, the last entry detailing Damian throwing your mother’s pen into the yard while it was raining.

He hates how he handled that situation; at the time, he thought you were just making a big deal over some silly little pen (fuck, that was how he really saw it back then), but you were just protecting the only thing you had of your mother, uncaring what it would cost you. He’d like to think he’s do the same thing had someone tried to take his mother’s pearls (you really are his son, aren’t you).

When Tim said he had your journal, they all tried to get it from him, Damian going as far as to bring out his sword and threaten to take it by force (Bruce really needs to consider confiscating that sword due to all the trouble it’s caused). Hell, Jason actually begged to be able to read your journal, but his son would not surrender the book and has been hoarding all the information for himself.

The girls have been silent since reading it, which is never a good sign since Steph is always making noise. He tried to comfort Cass when she read that you don’t consider her a person because of the way she looks at people, like she’s trying to find strengths and weaknesses before attacking them (apparently you also know of her upbringing as a weapon), but his second daughter wouldn’t accept his gestures, signing that you had a point and that she’d never break free of her origins as a living weapon.

And Damian… His youngest has been eerily quiet, but it doesn’t take his detective training to realize he’s fuming on the inside (it seems to be a prerequisite in this family to deal with emotions in unhealthy ways). Bruce had asked him if he was angry that you had exposed the secret of his birth and all his youngest said was that it was his penance for his transgressions against you (his heart breaks that his youngest thinks he deserves this as some sort of punishment).

He was already having a hard time containing the fallout of the world finding out his firstborn son is you, not Damian, and that he’s basically not acknowledged you at all in the last decade, but this article has made it next to impossible to find a convincing lie to tell the media that you came back willingly when they ultimately bring you back home.

“This fucking Megamycete,” he growls, setting the teacup on a nearby table not so gently. “It’s ruined everything.”

“How do you figure, Master Bruce,” the man responds, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s making him lash out, do these things. I know we wronged Y/N and he has every right to hate us, but he shouldn’t be capable of this, should he? There’s no way he’d ever say these things willingly.”

“Do you think you know Master Y/N to make such an assessment?”

That makes him pause.

He has no illusion that he never took the time to sit down with you to have an actual conversation, but his blood still courses through your veins; he’d never do something like this, nor would Damian or any of his other children.

Did your hate for them… for him run that strong? That you despise them so much that you’d expose and put them all on display for the world to see?

Would you go as far as exposing their secret identities?

“What do you think, Alfred,” he says after a moment of silence. “You obviously know him better than all of us. Would he ever do something like this?”

“I think that he wishes to exact revenge for the many years of neglect you all inflicted upon him and that this is his opening volley,” the man says with no hesitation or restraint.

That makes him flinch.

“So, you’re saying he hates us,” he asks, afraid of the answer the butler will give him.

He knows you have every right to hate him, god knows he’s made his children hate him on several occasions, but if you hate him… hate them enough to do something like this…

He knows he’s not strong enough to handle it.

“I think he’s dreamed of making all of you pay for what you’ve done to him for years. And with this Megamycete within him, I say he’s more than a match for you and the children.”

“You’d think he’d attack us?”

“When I held Master Y/N in my arms, I could see the fury beneath his tears. Master Damian use to take delight in giving Master Y/N a demonstration in his combat prowess. There’s no doubt in my mind that Master y/N wishes to return the favor.”

He won’t allow that. He’s hurt his children in multiple ways and his children have hurt one another in multiple ways over the years and every time it happened it created a rift that was never truly repaired, merely covered over. There’s been enough pain and misery in this family to last several lifetimes.

He’s fought tooth and nail to keep his children together and he’s not about to let one slip away.

He understands you want nothing to do with him or your siblings, but like it or not, you’re his son and his children belong in Gotham, under his roof.

“Have the tests on the root samples finished yet?”

“Yes, they were finished just a little while ago. I’m afraid to say that none of the toxins you have in stock had any noticeable effect on them.”

He curses at the news. He had hoped the toxins he keeps so deal with Poison Ivy would be as effective on the Megamycete, but that is unfortunately not the case.

“What about the in-depth analysis on the blood sample?”

“From what the analyzer could tell, the Megamycete seems to behave like a benign cancer, slowly eradicating Master Y/N’s native cells in order to replace them with unstable mold versions, which are able to be manipulated and altered into whatever he desires.”

That certainly makes coming up with a strategy on how to counter your abilities; sure, he has a few ideas based on a few villains and heroes that have similar abilities to you, but until he sees what you’re capable of firsthand, he won’t have anything concrete.

The thought then leads to him having an idea, one he’s eager to act on.

“I’m going out, Alfred.”

“And where are we off to, Master Bruce?”

“I’m going to see my son.”

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[tsuutarr]

Tavern Owner Orc x New Hire Reader

I got to participate in the lovely Ozzgin's Secret Santa Event!! This one is for @tranquilo-antique-apothecary!!

Content is about 1K words of him being down bad for you <3

Sekkrad has always liked the bustling atmosphere of taverns, rich with rambunctious laughter and delicious food. After every win or loss, Sekkrad and his comrades would settle down at their favorite tavern, almost as if it were their second home. Maybe that was why he decided to open a quaint tavern after retiring from his warrior duties.

Despite his retirement, Sekkrad has always kept himself in shape. Working out has been engraved into his body, but beyond that, it’s also because his patrons can get quite rowdy at times. Plus, it’s helpful to be athletic when you’re working as much as he is. That said…

He really could use some help.

So, he puts up a flyer seeking an employee. As expected, there are some pretty good candidates. What’s unexpected, however, is you. You’re just so cute that Sekkrad literally stopped thinking when he first saw you walk through the tavern’s doors. He’s not even sure how he got through interviewing you, but somehow he did. And, just his luck, you’re a great candidate – exactly what he’s looking for! A good personality, a solid resume, and a cute face… so of course he hires you.

But on second thought – maybe it wasn’t his best idea. You look too adorable in the tavern’s uniform (that uniform does not usually look that good). And he practically blanks out every time you’re around him. You just look so soft and huggable. Plus that smile? It’s a killer. Thankfully, he somehow manages to guide you through your tasks and answer questions with a blank face (that he is desperately trying to control).

As he’s mulling about how he’s supposed to act around you, he notices you struggling to reach up to get a bottle of bourbon on one of the shelves. Without a second thought, he reaches over you, pressing his muscular body against your softer one.

“Here,” he grunts, voice low, as sirens whir in his head over how good your body feels against his. It’s like you fit perfectly against him.

“Thank you!” you respond, smile bright. Oh, Gods. You’re going to kill him.

He nods. “If y’need anything else, let me know.”

With that said, he moves to the storage in the back. He almost slams his head into the bag of flour, but reigns himself in after remembering how expensive flour is nowadays. Instead, he picks up some more syrup for his cocktails, willing himself to behave.

Despite the turmoil your presence brings to him, he manages to get through the day with relative ease. Hiring you really was the right choice – you’re an excellent worker. Smart, quick on the uptake, easy on the eyes – you’re just the perfect hire.

As he closes shop, wiping a wine glass clean, he watches as you wipe down the last table, a feeling of fondness spreading through his chest at how much of a hard worker you are. As you finish up, he prepares a sweet cocktail for you, before motioning you over.

“Good job,” he says, passing the cocktail to you.

“Thank you!”

He nods, motioning for you to sit. “Wait there.”

“Yessir,” you respond, saluting before you sit down. You watch as he disappears into the kitchen in the back, the sweet taste of your cocktail spreading over your tongue pleasantly.

It only takes him a few moments to come back with a plate of warm food. He places it in front of you.

“Eat up,” he murmurs, crossing his arms. “You were a great help today.”

Your cheeks heat up, making Sekkrad want to scream – you’re just so stinking adorable.

“I’m glad!” you beam, making his lips twitch up into a smile involuntarily. 

The way you eat his food also makes him feel warm and happy – it’s always a treat when someone enjoys his food.

“It was delicious!” you tell him once you’re done eating.

“Let me know what y’like to eat,” he says, looking pleased as you polish off his food. “I’ll make it for you next time.”

Eagerly, you tell him your favorite food, which he files away for later. He takes your empty dishes, which you try to protest, saying that you’ll clean up after yourself. He’s having none of it, though, and cleans up promptly as you finish off your cocktail.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers while wiping his hands off on his apron. “It’s late.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Sekkrad doesn’t want to seem pushy, not when he really doesn’t want you to hate him, but he’s more concerned for your safety than anything. “You wouldn’t be imposing,” he replies, trying to make his voice softer. “I just want t’make sure my new hire’s safe.”

“Well…” you look up at him and Sekkrad has to look behind you so that he won’t combust. “...I’d appreciate it, thank you! I’ll go get my things.”

“Yeah,” he responds, watching as you go to the back to get your things. When you reappear, he straightens his back, motioning to the door. “Ready?”

“Yessir!” you say, starting your journey back to your home.

Your walk back with him is quiet and peaceful as everyone else is asleep. That, and Sekkrad has never been much of a talker, but he’s especially nervous around you. He’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to talk to you, so he opts not to. Besides, you seem content to walk beside him quietly (and it’s just… nice to see how comfortable you look beside him). Despite his nervousness, he’s actually pretty content himself.

In fact, when you two arrive at your home, Sekkrad is almost disappointed. Still, he got you home safe and nothing was really amiss, so he can’t complain.

“Rest up,” he says, nodding at you. “I’ll see you at night.”

“I’ll be there dark and early,” you grin.

He can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Good.”

With a small laugh and a final wave, you enter your home. Sekkrad lingers until he’s fully sure you’re safe inside, before turning his heels to walk back to the tavern with light steps.

He really, really can’t wait to see you again.