#shakes them both like a box of marbles

[gio-goose]

Oomfie requested P and Sin meeting and I think they‘d be excellent bug buddies

[lnfours]

half of me, half of you | l.n

summary: welcome to the world, baby norris <3 and welcome back to part 3 of this little universe we have going on here! 🩷 requested by anonymous: ‘Omg part three for forevermore??? Like the wedding and then maybe kids🫣’

warnings: pregnancy, surprises, hormones, lando finding out he’s going to be a girl dad 🥹, a whole lot of fluff n stuff

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“how much longer?” you asked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom. the brunette girl swiped down on her phone, displaying the timer she had set almost 2 minutes ago.

“30 seconds..” she trailed off, eyes meeting your nervous figure as you bounced your leg up and down. you sent her a soft smile back, beating yourself up for not taking a test sooner.

the past week you had felt terrible. felt like someone had hit you with a bus, thrown it in reverse and then backed up over you. your emotions were all over the place, you couldn’t keep anything down, and suddenly you were craving things you didn’t even like.

your suspicions had brought you to lily, your best friend. alex’s girlfriend, the girl you could rely on for anything.

the alarm of the timer echoed throughout the hotel bathroom. you jumped, eyes quickly moving to the box where the lily had shoved in the little white stick.

you felt like you were going to throw up again because of how the nerves were shaking through your body, “can you…?”

“you don’t wanna read it?”

you shook your head fast, “no, i’m scared,”

she frowned softly, kneeling in front of you, “whatever happens, whatever you decide, i love you and i’m here for you.”

you nodded, letting her hand you the box, “what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if he’s not on the same page? i mean we haven’t even really talked about kids yet, i-“

lily was quick to calm your rambling, coaching you to just breathe for a second. you nodded at her, following her direction as you sucked in a shaky breath.

“for as long as i’ve known lando, he’s always talked about wanting kids,” she said, “and it’s no secret that he wants them with you. he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise.”

you smiled softly down at the ring on your left hand, letting out a shaky, “you’re right,”

“usually am,” she smiled back at you as you both let out a laugh, “you ready?”

you nodded again, opening the box and fishing out the little white stick that was about to change your whole life. you flipped it over, turned it the right way around and read it over and over again.

it was positive. you were pregnant.

your silence was an answer in itself for lily as she smiled, cheering and hugging you as you let some of the tears fall down your cheeks and splash onto the marbled tile beneath you.

she had tears in her eyes as well, “you’re gonna be a mom!”

you smiled, letting out a soft laugh in disbelief, “i’m gonna be a mom,”

“the best one out there,” she smiled, pulling you up for a proper hug, “oh i’m so happy for you.”

you laughed again, thankful to have her in your life before you pulled away. you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “guess i should call my ob,” you said and she nodded quickly, “and figure out how i’m going to tell lando.”

lily hummed, “i’m sure you’ll think of something special.”

and you did. you were fiddling with the ring on your left finger, dressed in a black slip dress you had brought with you to the uk. silverstone was the best place on earth, his home race, where his friends were, his family.

and where you were about to tell him he was going to be a dad.

you had given lily the ‘ok’ to tell alex so that you had two people to make sure he would get to the surprise. they both didn’t waste any time, making it their top priority to get lando and bring him back to where you needed him as soon as possible.

you were seated on the blanket in the grass, looking up when you heard footsteps making their way to you. you looked up, the boy dressed in black with his signature white mclaren backwards cap catching your eye.

“hey,” he smiled, letting out a puff of air and looking around at the blanket you had set up, “alex and lily said you had something planned?”

you nodded, “come sit,”

he joined you on the blanket, careful not to knock over the gift box sitting in the middle. you smiled over at him, sensing his nerves.

“what’s up, love?”

you tilted your head towards the white box with a pretty bow on the top, “open it,”

he raised an eyebrow at you, “is something going to pop out at me?”

you laughed, “no! just open it,”

he sighed, complying as he kept it at a safe distance while he took the lid off. once the coast was clear, he reached his hand inside. he felt the plastic stick in his hand and what felt like a photo. he fished them out, eyes landing on the pregnancy test and the picture of the ultrasound you had to confirm that you were pregnant.

he gasped softly, immediately looking over at you before his eyes traveled down to your belly.

“baby,” he started, licking his lips as he sniffled softly, “are you being serious right now?”

you smiled, “deadly.”

he dropped the things back in the box, moving to carefully pull you in the tightest hug he could get you in, “i’m gonna be a dad.”

you nodded, pulling back and wiping under your eyes with the back of your hands, “yeah,”

“and you’re gonna be a mom,” he was really stating the obvious but it brought more tears to your eyes when he spoke, “you’re gonna be the best mom, baby.”

you kissed his cheek softly, “and you’re going to be the best dad.”

he smiled, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the months moved on and baby girl norris had finally entered the world, and lord did she have lando wrapped around her little finger already.

from the moment the two met, the nurses handing the little pink blanket over to him, it was game over. her big eyes, which resembled yours, looking straight up at him and her happy gurgles had his heart exploding as he looked down at his baby girl.

“hi, angel,” he cooed, fingers softly brushing against her skin over the tiny little moles and freckles that littered her skin, “oh, you’re perfect.”

you smiled over at your now husband, watching the two interact, “she is,”

he looked up at you, “and so are you, baby,”

you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he sat next to you with the little girl in his arms. she was starting to struggle to stay awake, barely keeping her eyes open.

the two of you watched in contentment, his eyes a little watery before he looked back over at you, “we made that,”

you let out a soft chuckle, “we did a good job, yeah?”

he laughed with you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we did,” he said, “i think you did all the heavy lifting, though. i was just here for the ride,”

you laughed, meeting his eyes, “mm, true,”

he smiled back with that same boyish grin to you, releasing a soft breath, “guess we should probably name her, huh?”

you hummed, “still like the one we had picked?”

he looked down now at the little girl in his arms who now had her eyes closed, sometime during your conversation she had fallen asleep. she was so peaceful and perfect and everything he loved about you wrapped up into one tiny little human. a tiny little human he got to create with you, the other half of his beating heart.

“i do, yeah,” he nodded, “welcome to the world wren norris.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you made your way up the stairs, a smile spreading on your face as you heard the little girls’ giggle coming from her bedroom. you leaned up against the door way, trying hard not to snicker at your husband who had found himself joining your daughter and her stuffed animals for a tea party.

you watched the two talk about tea and serve them to the dolls and stuffed animals sitting in their respective chairs for a couple minutes before you walked into the room.

“hey, baby,” lando said when you knelt down next to him, giving you the biggest smile, “joining us for some tea?”

“for a bit sure,” you smiled, “everyone will be here soon.”

“oh, mommy, look!” wren said excitedly, “daddy and i drew a picture for you.”

“oh, yeah?” you asked, watching the girl grab the piece of paper, “what is it?”

“we drew daddy’s race car!” she smiled brightly back at you.

you took the piece of paper, noticing the three other stick-figure men in the picture, another one in orange, one in blue and one in red.

“and you drew uncle carlos, oscar and danny?”

she nodded, “it was daddy’s idea.”

you laughed softly at your grinning husband, rolling your eyes playfully, “of course it was.”

you spent some time with you little family, letting them tell you all about their afternoon tea session with mr bear, kitty and mrs froggie, all the stuffed animals sitting in their respective seats.

you grabbed lando’s arm softly, pulling it towards you to read the time on his watch, “we gotta get you ready, wren. everyone’s gonna be here soon!”

she smiled, “can i still wear my princess dress?”

“of course, love,” you smiled. she happily jumped from her seat and ran off to her closet. you looked over at your husband, a smile still on both of your faces.

while you helped change wren into her princess dress, lando had started greeting those who had come to help celebrate your daughter’s third birthday.

it wasn’t long until the little girl left your side, immediately running over to her favorite uncle, “uncle max!”

you smiled when he bent down, picking her up and she squealed happily, “there’s the birthday girl!”

he tickled her sides playfully, her laughter booming as you joined your husband, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“did you get a pony this year?” he asked and you both snickered as wren shook her head.

“mommy said no,” she said, “but she said i could get a puppy!”

“a puppy?!”

you looked over at lando, “i said maybe,”

lando shrugged, “i know you’ll crack.”

“oh she has you wrapped around her finger, mate,” max laughed, looking back at the little girl he was holding, “don’t ya little one?”

“easy, fewtrell,” you laughed, “don’t give her ideas.”

he laughed softly, the little girl going back to her dad to say hi to her uncle alex and aunt lily, leaving you and max standing in the kitchen. he pulled you into his side, giving you a squeeze, “how’re you? i mean, other than enjoying being a mom.”

you laughed, “i’m good,” you let out of a soft breath, “where’s p?”

“she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me to say hi to everyone.”

you frowned, “damn, tell her i said hi and that i hope she feels better.”

he nodded, “i will,”

you both trailed off as you watched lando and alex playfully chase wren, trying to see who could pick her up first, “so, a puppy, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, “it was all him! not me,”

he laughed, “sounds about right, he’d do anything for that little girl.”

you smiled, watching your husband and daughter laugh as alex and lily talked with the birthday girl, asking her questions that made her giggle in response, “he would, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[noceurous]

soon

summary: seeing your ex after breakup is not that bad. right? warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, toxic relationships, toxic behaviour, blood, angst, smut (18+), phone sex, oral (f receiving), some kinks, usage of petnames and nicknames (baby, little one, good girl, sergeant), open ending. minors dni. a/n: sorry for not posting sooner. i am trying to be more active. please leave comments/reblogs i appreciate them. divider is by @saradika

You raised your head at the loud knocking on your door. You headed there without hesitation just to stop knocking before the poor material would break. 

“I’m here!” you yelled just before you opened the door, ready to fight whoever was on the other side for making that much noise.

But you weren’t ready to see the large-built man looking at you. His eyes wide with desperation, his hands were clutching the deep bloody wound on his abdomen. You could see the red liquid peaking through his fingers and how paler his skin was from the last time you saw him.

He got inside before you could speak, crimson droplets dropping onto your dark wood floors. He headed to the kitchen immediately, knowing where you stashed the first aid kit. 

After closing the door you followed him to the kitchen. Careless enough to slip onto the bloodstains on the floor; marking your path with some parts of your footprint. The courage to speak came back to you when you saw how his red fingers rummage through the box

“Sit, I can do it.” Your voice must be slightly above a whisper, but he heard you. He hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter, lifting his shirt to reveal the deep gash.

You didn’t flinch. This wasn’t the worst wound you’d seen, but it was serious enough that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t.

“Should I ask how this happened?” you murmured, knowing him too well that he wouldn’t give you any satisfying answer.

You rolled your eyes at his silence, tossing the dirty cotton pad into the trash. “You’ll need stitches,” you said, picking up the needle with steady hands.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You hated that you knew how to do this, all thanks to him coming to you instead of a hospital, trusting you over professionals.

You were glad to see your clear work. A result of patching him up after dangerous missions for years. “This will do,” you murmured as you pulled his top down. He didn’t say anything, just hopped off the counter and headed back to your door.

“What? Not even a thank you?” you snapped as you cleaned after him. Scrubbing off the half dried blood from your white marble. You knew better to expect him to give you something to unravel.

He could have just gotten it in a bar fight, if he had time left after the missions he was attending.

He stopped after you spoke up, turning back to you. “I thought you didn’t want me to talk to you anymore,” he said, arrogantly.

You shrugged. “I’d also like you to go to a hospital instead of coming to me in the middle of the night. Since you already broke one rule...” you explained as you took out the mop to clean the blood on the floor.

“You are closer. Would you really want me to bleed to death instead of coming to see you?”

Maybe.

You threw your hand in the air, “Can’t you teach this stuff to your girl? Besides, we both know you can’t die from this.”

“I am not seeing anybody.”

You bit your lip and gave him a nod, unsure of how to respond. It had been a few months since you last saw him. You could not remember the last time you hoped for him to come back. The nights you spent turning in your bed as he came to your mind, and not knowing what or who he was doing, seemed too far to you.

When you broke up, he didn’t give you any explanation except that he was not happy. He told you there was no one else, but he was too much of a flirt for you to believe him.

“Still, I’d prefer you to get actual medical care,” you said, pointing to his blood-drenched clothes.

His usual smirk appeared. “Maybe next time, if your place is farther.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Or at least try to stay away from trouble.”

“You know trouble finds me, little girl. I’m innocent.” You hid your smile as the familiar nickname brought back memories.

“Yeah, I’m sure the opponent from the fight thought the same,” you said. Your fingers brushed the top of his jeans, following the trace of the washed denim.

You didn’t realize how close you were until your fingers touched him easily. He was towering over you, his warm breath fanning over your face.

“Well, everybody is entitled to their opinions,” he said as he cupped your face, licking his lips as his thumb brushed against your cheek.

You tried your best not to look at his lips or eyes, which were famous for hypnotizing you. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking a few steps back.

Before opening the door, he took one more look at you and smiled. Your heart ached at seeing him at your doorsteps to leave again. You tried to come up with a reply but realized you were too late as he had already turned his back to you. 

Maybe this is better, you thought. He was always better at saying the last word.

You held your breath as you pulled up the zipper of your dress. The fabric was tight, hugging your curves, and though it wasn’t the most comfortable, it made you look better than you had hoped.

A girls' night out would be good for you. You needed a distraction after seeing the bloody tools from the previous night in the trash. You couldn’t stay at home all night, hoping Bucky would come back to you injured. 

It was not healthy.

You felt your head lighten because of the alcohol finally entering your bloodstream. This also meant that your guard was down, and you were not expecting to see him with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder, talking with his friends. 

Of course, he would appear when you least expect him.

“You okay, sweetie?” your friend asked, her eyes snapping back to you after sending daggers in his direction.

“Been better, but also been worse, so it’s okay,” you said as you looked down. You felt the familiar weight settled on your chest, burning and pressuring your lungs.

“We can leave if you want. No hard feelings.” She put on a soft smile on her face, her hand rested on your shoulder. 

You dropped your shoulders as you reached for your half empty glass. “No, I’d run into him eventually. Let’s not let him ruin this night as well.”

A few more drinks later, you had to go to the ladies' room. As you were washing your hands, you saw your reflection in the mirror.

You looked a bit flushed, not sure whether it was from the drinks or the anger coming from seeing your ex with another girl. 

You fixed your makeup slightly and opened the door to leave.

A cheeky smile and steel blue eyes have greeted you before you could make your way to your table. You weren’t surprised; you knew he would find a way to get into your radar. Fire and gunpowder, never good to keep them close.

“Are you here to make sure that I stay out of trouble, little girl?” he smiled as he cocked his head to the side.

“Can’t I get a night out too? Just like you’re doing...”You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. 

His eyes scanned your figure, lingering on your legs exposed by the short skirt, and he licked his lips appreciatively. He was always a fan of short dresses of yours. “It’s sad that you never wore this dress to one of our night outs. To be fair, I’m not sure whether we could have the opportunity to leave the bed if I saw you in this.” He raised his eyebrows, eyes couldn’t leave your exposed skin.

“This is a new dress, for new opportunities.” You answered as he leaned over you, cornering you between him and the wall. He placed his hand on the wall next to your head.

“You’re too good to be playing those games with stupid boys. You don’t need a dress, just a smile is more than enough.” He was getting too close, you were sure if you leaned in just a little, your lips would be touching.

He sucked in his lower lip before he eyed you up and down again. “If you were mine again...” he muttered under his breath.

Before you could utter a word, you heard someone, probably his date, calling out for him. He took a step back, raising his hands. “I love these little meetings of ours. Looking forward to the next one,” he said as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

You felt like the air in your lungs escaped when you felt his cold lips touch your skin. His face lingered above yours after the kiss, just to see your reaction. “I can’t wait,” he whispered as he went back to his friends.

It was the middle of the night. You dozed off after watching some movie on your laptop. An arm wrapped around a pillow and your cheek pressed on the other.

You groaned when you felt the vibrations under your pillow. You had forgotten your phone under the pillow before you drifted to sleep. You could not open your eyes fully to see the caller ID, just enough to press the answer button.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your other hand going to your eye, rubbing it gently. You hoped that it was not an emergency.

“Fuck, I’ve missed your sleepy voice.” His voice was enough to jolt you awake, making you sit up in bed.

“Bucky? What time is it?”

“Not late enough for me to call you.” He groaned under his breath. “What are you wearing?”

“Bucky—”

“You cannot dodge my question after I saw you in that dress. ‘Made me remember the old times.”

“Those times are old for a reason.”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t miss the time in California.” You bit your lip, recalling the memory of the two of you.

You begged your boss for a week of paid vacation days for you to have a summer trip with Bucky. As always you wore bikinis that covered very little, blaming the heat, and sunbathed next to him, trying to ignore his wandering hands.

He chuckled at your silence. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. I can still close my eyes and see you laying with the blue bikini bottom you wore.”

“And I couldn’t sunbathe properly because seconds later you were on me, and we ended up having sand everywhere.”

“Can’t blame me. You have a body that would drive a man insane.” You’ve heard him shuffle and the sound of a zipper. Knew pretty well where this was heading as you laid down. “Now be a good little girl and tell me what you are wearing.”

“The tshirt that says ‘cotton candy baby’.” You answered him. You swore you could hear his heart skip a beat and a second of silence proved you right. 

“The one that can’t even cover your butt?”

“It’s too hot, Bucky.” You whine, shifting in your bed. Your fingers dancing on your naked thighs, getting closer to the elastic band of your panties.

“Not hot as you wore that costume on my birthday, I didn’t fuck you enough that day.”

“I couldn’t sit for three days. You fucked me more than enough.”

“Could’ve been five with a pussy like yours. So tight and warm around me. Shit, it’s too hot isn’t it? Why don’t you take your top off, and squeeze a nipple for me? I know you don’t wear a bra to bed.”

It had been too long for you to protest him.

You chose to follow his order. Hoping this would help with your sexual frustrations too. Your nipples perked as they were exposed and you did as he said. Twirling a nipple between your forefinger and your thumb. A small hiss came from your mouth, which he could hear perfectly.

You could feel how drenched you are when he groaned in response. You could not help but hump the pillow between your legs, trying to take the edge off.

Your breath hitched when the friction passed along your clit, making your body jump up. “What are you doing little one, tell me?”

“I—I’m humping the p—pillow.”

“Yeah, still with your underwear? Take it off and then continue to hump.” You didn’t need him to tell you twice. You swiped it off with hooking your thumb on the band, changing your position for the better.

You knelt on the bed with the pillow between your thighs. Folding the pillow in half before regaining your position pantiless. You moaned at the feeling. “How does it feel?”

“Good.” You cried out, too embarrassed and too horny to talk properly.

“Not as good as my thigh? You loved riding me like a bitch,” You closed your eyes with the memories flooding into your mind. It was true you loved riding Bucky, in all ways imaginable. “...or not wet enough as my tongue when you sit on my face huh? You lost yourself and covered half of my face with your sweet nectar, remember?”

“Y—yeah! But your thigh is not as good as your face, Sergeant.” He moaned when he heard the name. He loved when he heard that from your mouth.

“Fuck little one I’m so close, get faster for me please. Let me hear those beautiful cries.” All you needed was his permission before you let yourself go and be loud and fast as you wanted.

Loud moans filled your room, you were sure your neighbors were not thinking nice things about you. All thanks to the thin walls. But you already passed the stage to care since all you could think was reaching to your orgasm.

“Cum for your Sergeant, little one!”

Your body vibrated with his thick voice over the phone. You fell on your knees and hands, panting.

He chuckled over the phone. “That was good. Nice to see I still have my charm on you.” He admitted before ending the call. You rolled your eyes at his reaction, tossing your phone at your night stand before fixing your bed.

You knew it was not going to be the last time. You just didn’t know when.

You underestimated him. A big stupid mistake. Because it only took him three weeks to see you again.

But this time he didn’t stop himself.

He had you pinned against his wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and your mouth against his. You two left a trail of clothes and things that were either fallen or broken on the ground.

You two were only left with your underwear. His hands were holding onto your sides. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I will not see you again.” He said as he brushed his nose against your neck, pressing you on his erection.

“I can’t.” You whispered. 

“I’ll tear you apart, little one.” He chuckled. His lips pressing on the skin behind your ear. “Just like old days.”

His hands went behind your back. You whimpered when his hands squeezed your butt. “James!” You moaned as he used your body, thrusting into between your legs.

His cock moving between your folds, grinding against your silk coated panties. “Told you I wouldn’t stop myself.”

You forgot why you two decided to meet again. Was it to give back some of his belongings or take something of yours from him? Whatever it was you should have known better to step onto that trap.

He carried you to his bed. The old springs of his mattress squeaked with your weight. Quickly discarding your bra, and underwear. You moaned when his metal finger played with your clit. With just one cold touch, your brain stopped functioning. He knelt between your legs, pressing kisses along your naked chest.

“Things I will do to you.” He mumbled between kisses. Looking up to you. 

He dove back to your chest. Kissing and sucking your breasts. You hissed as he bit down on your swollen nipple. You raised your hips to rub yourself at his clothed hardness. 

“You talk too much but didn’t even wait for me to finish last time.” You snapped back, he chuckled. 

“Show me what you can do Sergeant.” You whispered on his lips, your finger twirled the chain around to pull him closer to your lips.

He broke the kiss to slide down. Leaving a trail of kisses along your naked body. “You’re so wet.” He groaned as he eyed your glistening pussy. He raised your legs by hooking his hands under your knees, and pulled you closer to him. “Look so good.” He said just before he licked a long strap. “Taste so good too.” He hummed, continuing to lick and suck.

Your body was too sensitive. And he was really good at what he was doing, it did not take you enough to finish. You came right on his face, seeing the stars. Your body tingled like it was your first orgasm ever. The heat rushed to your face when you felt the familiar electricity move along your joints. Your hands twisting his sheets under your palms.

“How long?” He tried not to laugh at how desperate you were looking under him. He knew your body too well to understand how sensitive you got due to his absence.

“Too long.” You said trying to look somewhere else other than his face.

“Need me to go slow?” You shook your head, could not stop your smile.

“No.” He smiled back, taking off his boxers to free his erection. He palmed himself quickly, before pressing his tip on your clit. Using his precum as a lube as he swiped it along the tip.

“That’s my girl.”

“Oh!” You screamed with pleasure as he thrusted all of himself in one go. Your eyes almost went back with pleasure. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here.” He kissed your cheek. His flesh hand holding onto yours. You squeezed him with all you had.

“You feel so good around me.” He said as he continued to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned on your lips, kissing you slowly as his metal hand held the headboard. Starting all his thrusts with all he got.

You both moaned. “Fuck! It’s been too long.” He said as his cock twitched inside you. You could barely talk, a word with made up sounds left your mouth. He slid his dog tags inside your mouth slowly and you closed your lips around them in an instinct. “Good girl, taking me so well.” He patted your cheek, pressing one of your legs to your chest by your knee. Speeding up his thrusts, hitting you even deeper. Something you did not believe was possible. 

You could not stop your orgasm coming back once more. Feeling your walls flutter around him. “I’m cumming.” You said with dog tags still inside your mouth, as his tip touched your cervix. 

“Oh you are desperate aren’t you baby? Do you want me to fill you?” He asked, his hand holding the base of your neck. 

“Please.” He raised his eyebrow, hitting you deeper. 

“Try again.”

“Please Sergeant.” His brows frowned and he bit down on his lip as he emptied himself inside you. You felt your body relax as the warm liquid filled you. Your mouth opened loosely before he straightened himself up. Slowly pulled out, watching it pour out from your abused hole. 

He gave you back your panties and bra. Not looking back at you as he put on his boxer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.” He said with a wink before heading to the bathroom. “You know I always do.” He chanted before turning on the sink.

Your heart ached, agreeing with him.

[captain-hawks]

Muahahahahahaha~ Let’s give our Iwa some attention; Iwaizumi and bathroom

familiar

hajime iwaizumi x f!reader

The timing has never quite been right for you and Iwaizumi—until a run-in with your ex at a wedding changes everything.

wc: 2.6k

c: 18+ only, best friends to lovers speed run, hurt/comfort, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f!receiving), cum eating, past infidelity (not iwa)

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND - PART V

“Tell me what you need.”

Your nostrils burn from the cloying, floral scent that hangs heavily in the air of the oversized bathroom as you sit atop the sink’s white marble countertop, head leaning back against the ornate mirror.

Iwaizumi squeezes your knee when you don’t respond, his callused fingers gently grasping the bare skin exposed by the slit in your dress—if only by consequence, rather than a conscious choice. 

“A time machine,” you mutter, voice thick as you blindly reach out for the box of tissues you spotted near the faucet when you walked in. 

A hand brushes against yours, followed by the soft press of the thin, white square against the hot, angry tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“That’s above my pay grade,” he grumbles, “but I can go punch him if you want.”

You choke out a watery laugh, your fingertips colliding as you take the tissue from him and dab at the corners of your eyes before crumbling it into a ball. 

In hindsight, you should have known your ex-fiancé would be at this wedding, given the unfortunate amount of mutual friends that the two of you share. But of all the brash moves, you certainly weren’t expecting him to walk in with the woman he cheated on you with. 

You don’t miss him, not really. Not since it became abundantly clear he’d been fucking his personal assistant for most of your relationship. Not since you realized everything you thought you knew about him was a lie. 

It’s embarrassment and anger that fuels the remaining tears still threatening to traipse their way down your cheeks now, tears that soak into the new tissue Iwaizumi’s already patiently holding below your eyelashes.

“To be fair, I always wanted to punch him,” Iwaizumi mutters under his breath. 

Embarrassment, anger—and regret for the long-buried feelings for your best friend that now stands before you, his brows furrowed in annoyance and concern in equal measure.

It’s always been there between the two of you, this heady, dizzy feeling—charged and humming like the atmosphere on the brink of a rolling thunderstorm.  

But the timing’s never been right. Not back then, when relationships and school and sports and jobs were endlessly in the way. And certainly not now, when you shouldn’t even be hidden away crying in this obnoxiously fancy bathroom with Iwaizumi in the first place—not while he’s dating one of the bridesmaids. 

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking, too, because—

“You should probably go find—“

“—we broke up.”

You blink at him several times, caught off guard both by the admission and the unwavering way he’s staring at you now.

Well, you had thought it was odd that you didn’t see them interact at all leading up to the reception.

“Why?”

He inhales slowly before he responds, “She said I was too involved in what’s going on with you.”

A wave of guilt washes over you as you think about how he was the first person you told what happened—in the middle of the night when you got home early from a trip and found your side of the bed occupied.

The way he didn’t even ask before getting into his car and driving across town to pick you up.

The feeling of your fingers desperately clasping the sleeve of his sweatshirt on the sidewalk as you pleaded with him not to storm back into the apartment, the sight of his clenched fists.

The steady, reassuring warmth of his arms around your tired, shaking frame as he held you close against the passenger side door of his car when your trembling fingers couldn’t pull the handle. 

You spent that night in his bed, while he insisted on taking the couch. And in the weeks that followed, after you scrambled to find your own place, he hovered. He checked in on you frequently. He brought you food.

He—

It’s not like you can blame his girlfriend—

“So she—”

It’s obvious that Iwaizumi knows you well enough to anticipate your reaction, the way you begin to shrink in on yourself, because his voice is a little rough as he tilts your chin back up to look at him and says, “No, I told her that she could leave if she didn’t like it, because this isn’t going to change.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze has always been a heavy, tangible thing, but it’s particularly difficult to breathe under the weight of it now.

“What’s not going to change?” you ask quietly.

He leans in a little closer, standing between your legs, the inside of your thighs brushing against his hips. “The way I’m always going to put you first, whether I mean to or not.”

“Iwa—”

His eyes fall shut. “I hated when you started calling me that again.”

You’d started using his given name in high school, but the letters went quiet on your tongue in the years after, a forced wedge of distance.

A necessity.

It felt too familiar, more familiar than he should be to you, to your heart.

You didn’t realize how much it bothered him.

“Hajime,” you correct yourself.

A nearly imperceptible shudder runs through him, and when he opens his eyes, they’re filled with an emotion you can’t quite define, not under the duress of your rapidly beating heart.

“Tell me what you need,” he repeats, slowly and deliberately.

You.

It’s always been you.

Your fingers shake slightly as you reach out to grasp his tie, the silk smooth against your palm as you pull him closer.

“Hajime,” you whisper again, so quiet the syllables barely make a sound as they slide over your lips.

His forehead presses against yours, your noses brushing as he rasps, “You know I’d give you anything.”

A hot, heady rush floods your veins, and you press the heels of your feet back into the cabinet of the sink, if only to ground yourself as the honesty in his words scrapes against your ribcage. Releasing his tie, you carefully let your fingers linger against the side of his neck. There’s a sharp inhale of breath as your thumb makes contact with the hinge of his jaw, though Hajime’s own hands remain planted on the countertop.

The sound of your own given name is like a whispered kiss into the space that lingers between your mouths. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Hajime smells mint gum and that same goddamn body wash he’s been using since high school.

Your heart stumbles as you breathe him in.

“More than you can give,” you admit, voice wavering under the raw honesty of your words.

He laughs, and it’s a low sound of amusement that rumbles in his chest. “I doubt that.”

Heat and anticipation and disbelief swell rapidly in your chest, and it’s enough to find the courage to finally quell the traitorous, steady itch in your fingertips—which seem to be moving of their own volition as they card through Hajime’s soft, dark, messy hair. 

He sighs, and it spurs you on further, letting your hand drop to the back of his head to tug at the shorter hair at the nape of his neck. This earns you a groan that dances haphazardly down the notches of your spine. 

“Show me what you want, Hajime,” you tell him, swallowing thickly.

It feels disarmingly natural, the way his hands come up to cup your face, the stroke of his thumbs against the curve of your jaw. 

He’s so fucking handsome, it hurts. 

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss to the tip of his thumb. “Please.”

Despite all the times you’ve imagined this, all the late nights spent staring at your bedroom ceiling, all of the hopeless scenarios you’ve kept tucked way like a well-worn note tattered to the bone at every groove—every little thing your mind has conjured up pales in comparison to the way Hajime’s lips finally come crashing into yours.

With one hand cupping the back of your head and the other sliding down to curl around your hip, Hajime kisses you like he’s wanted this just as badly as you always have. Like he knows every dip and curve along the shape of your lips.

Like he wants to swallow every last molecule that separates your mouth from his.

It’s all-consuming, the damp heat of his lips, the steady pressure of his thumb against your hip bone, the satisfied groan he lets out as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull yourself against him. 

His tongue skirts along the seam of your lips, slipping into your mouth as they part to deepen the kiss, and all of the want and need you’ve kept bottled up inside of you spills out into something hot and messy that scorches its way through your abdomen. 

Logically, some part of you knows you should probably talk about this somewhere, anywhere but this ornately fancy single-occupant bathroom during a wedding reception. 

But it’s difficult to pin down a single morsel of logic when the sole, unspoken object of your deepest desires is currently wrapping his tongue around yours as the large palm of his hand blazes hot where it’s pressing into the small of your back, the pressure of his fingertips burning through the fabric of your dress.

It’s an accident—the way you rock forward into Hajime when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, the breathy little moan that punches out of you at the feeling of his erection pressing into your hot core. 

But it’s not an accident when you do it again, purposefully grinding against him, the arousal simmering inside of you cracking open wide as he kisses you harder, groaning into your mouth. One of his hands makes its way up your side, caressing the swell of your breasts that’s been threatening to spill out of the top of your dress since you slipped it on earlier.

“You have no idea how distracting your dress is,” he growls, though there’s no real heat in the sound, only a desperation that curls around the edges of each word as he tugs the material down enough to expose one of your peaked nipples.

You have half a mind to complain when his lips part from yours, a trail of spit hanging between your mouths for a moment, but it’s a moot point when he leans down to swipe his tongue across the pert, sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Hajime,” you whine, fingers digging into his hair as he gently sucks, shameless in the way you rearrange the skirt of your dress to let the cotton of your panties press directly against the black fabric of his pants. 

But it’s still not enough to quell the fire in your veins.

“Hajime,” you whimper again, the sound almost embarrassingly needy as you hump the outline of his hard cock.

Hands grasp your hips, the air conditioning in the room cool against your spit-soaked nipple as he abandons it to press his lips to yours while he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

“I need you to tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your mouth. “This stops where you say it stops.”

Fingers trailing along the back of his neck, you run your tongue along his bottom lip, too drunk on your desire to feel shy about the words that push their way past your teeth. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He lets out a rough groan, taking your tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. Gently, he trails one finger down the length of your damp panties. “Like this?”

You shake your head, reaching a hand between your bodies to clasp his shaft, a fresh stroke of arousal unfurling inside of you at the size of it.

Hajime lets out a gravelly, disbelieving sound. “I don’t have a—”

All it takes is an exchange of breathless, needy reassurances about contraceptives and clean tests to find your panties stuffed in his pocket, the buckle of his belt clinking as he frees his cock from the confines of his pants.

He drags his fingers through your slick, dripping folds as you wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him and keening softly, muscles taut with anticipation as he groans over how wet you are.

“And so fucking sensitive,” he mutters when you tremble and moan in pleasure as he slips a single finger into your cunt, his thumb swiping across your throbbing clit.

He hardly fares any better though when you spit into your palm and resume pumping his curved, leaking shaft, his hips jerking forward into the edges of the countertop. 

Hajime must feel how tight you are, must know what a stretch it’ll be to plunge inside of you, because he’s deliberate in the way he adds a second finger, and then a third, working your quivering, wet hole open until you’re panting and whining into his mouth begging for it.

Everything inside of your flares white-hot when he finally sinks his cock into the dripping warmth of your cunt, his lips against yours the only barrier to stifle the full volume of the wanton moan that spills from your mouth as you dig your fingers into his shoulderblades and rock forward until he’s balls deep inside of you. The tight walls of your pussy expand and contract against the thick stretch of his shaft, your legs trembling with pleasure. 

You want to writhe on his length.

You want to feel the stretch of it everywhere.

You want him to fuck you so deep you feel it for days.

You want to come so hard on his cock you can’t move or breathe.

It’s inescapable—the full depth of this yawning pit of desire, years of dreams that have left you restless and aching for the one thing you can’t have.

Couldn’t have.

But now—

It takes your fucking breath away, the dichotomy of this moment. The way Hajime’s fucking you so hard, the counter groans with each pounding thrust into your wet cunt. The way he’s tenderly cupping the side of your face and looking at you like he’d give you the goddamn world if you asked for it. 

(Having him would be enough.)

You’re so caught up in the moment, heart thrumming in your chest with too many emotions to grasp, you’re hardly prepared when the coil of tension in your gut unravels with the force of a whip, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you as you go tumbling over the edge of your climax. 

“That’s it,” Hajime murmurs as he fucks you through it, fucks you through the messy, desperate kisses you slot against his mouth as you moan and whimper.

You can hardly think straight as your orgasm tapers off, your cunt still greedily taking in every inch of Hajime’s cock as he continues to thrust into you, but when his hips begin to stutter, the words leave you in a rush, “Come inside of me.”

Hajime’s thumb presses into the underside of your chin as he breathes heavily against your mouth, muscles tensing.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt as his pleasure reaches its peak, his cock pulsing inside of you as ropes of thick, hot cum spill deep in your cunt.

It takes a few minutes for either of you to find the wherewithal to talk, the room quiet save for the sounds of your labored breathing and the soft kisses he presses to the corner of your mouth. To the curve of your jaw. To the bridge of your nose.

Fingers toying with his tie again as he tucks himself back into his pants, you watch as he pointedly does not give you back your underwear, instead pushing the flash of material further down into his pocket.

“Don’t I need tho…” you begin to ask, but you trail off as Hajime leans down and spreads your thighs even further apart before bringing his mouth to your cunt and lapping a broad stroke through the pool of cum leaking from your folds.

[sweetprfct]

The Hate Formula

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Living in the same building, across from each other shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But how come you and Joe tend to always push each other's buttons every day? Is it because you both truly just hated each other or is it because there was something more to it?

Author's Note: Welcome to another enemies to lovers fic! :) Let's also welcome back our bff, Sara. I'm sort of excited about this because it's so chaotic and fun and as you all know, I usually write angsty sad fics. So, I'm kind of having fun with this one. I hope you all enjoy! Please comments are always welcome! Thank you!

Wordcount: 2.9K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

Two Years Ago…

The sun was beating down in the city of New York. It was the middle of July, and the heat was basically a torture for you at the moment. You and your best friend, Sara, were just moving into your new apartment building. The both of you had been roommates since you graduated college, and you both have finally earned enough money to actually rent a nice and bigger apartment. It was both of your dream apartment with the nice kitchen, marbled top counters and big glass windows that overlooked the city skyscrapers. 

However, as much as you both were excited with the new apartment, the New York summer heat wasn’t really helping. You were already in shorts, tank top, and your hair was up in a messy ponytail and yet, you were still sweating so much. You both have spent the last two days taking everything out of your old apartment and bringing them into the new building. You and Sara would switch back and forth driving the U-Haul truck, and you both would carry your new furnitures up into the new apartment. You didn’t even realize you had so much stuff until you were packing up your things and had to throw most of the unnecessary ones away. 

But today was your last day of moving the rest of your things. All the heavy stuff was already set up and organized in the apartment and the only thing that was left were just boxes of your clothes and miscellaneous stuff for the kitchen. 

“I’ll take this last box and I can go drop off the U-Haul truck back.” Sara said, grabbing the last remaining box at the back of the truck. 

“Are you sure? I can go with you.” You suggested.

“No, it’s alright. I got it. Maybe I can pick up some pizza for dinner tonight?”

You nodded your head in agreement. “That sounds good. I’m too tired to make dinner.”

Sara chuckled softly, agreeing with you as you both entered the building. You were carrying another box, following behind her and entering the elevator. You loved this new apartment. It was fancy, nice and everything was new. It even had a security guard outside the building that made you feel safe. You couldn’t help but feel proud of how far you two had come.

Ready to finally set down the last box, you followed Sara down the hall when you were greeted by a man from across the hall. He looked familiar, and he looked like he was about your age too. He was, however, shirtless, and he had a grin on his face the moment he saw you. 

“Looks like I got new neighbors across the hall.” His English accent slipped through his voice. 

You couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. He was cute and not to sound too desperate, you rarely have any men interact with you. Especially cute and handsome men. Immediately, you were already hooked as soon as you heard that accent slip through his voice. His chocolate button eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. His curly brown hair was all disheveled, but it made him look more attractive. 

“I’m Joe.” He grinned excitedly.

Setting the heavy box down on the floor, you introduced yourself. For a moment, you were reluctant to shake his hand because you were literally all sweaty and dirty from doing all this moving. Joe, however, didn’t hesitate to shake your hand. Instantly, you were already charmed by him. 

Or maybe this heat was just getting into your head.

“So, are you new in the city?” Joe asked.

“I’m actually from Chicago, but I’ve been living in New York for five years now.” You cheekily grinned at him. 

“I’ve never been to Chicago, but it seems like they have great and beautiful people over there.” 

You knew exactly what he was doing. 

You knew he was flirting with you, and you couldn’t help but flirt back. He was cute, and him standing here in front of you shirtless was making you slowly fold for him already. 

God, you were pathetic. 

How were you already blushing and all flustered because of this man? You literally just met him two seconds ago. 

“So, you’re moving in with a roommate?” Joe nodded his head towards Sara. 

Looking over your shoulder, the door of your apartment was open, and you could see Sara setting down the boxes and organizing the kitchen. 

“Yeah, that’s Sara. She’s my best friend.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I hope I’m able to get to know you better.” Joe leaned against the doorframe, a flirty grin still plastered on his face.

Before you could say anything else, the door behind him swung open and a woman with disheveled hair looked at the both of you furiously. She was fixing the strap of her mini dress, and she barely had put on her other high heels. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as soon as you saw the angry look on her face. You were literally flirting with someone who had a girlfriend. 

Wait, was she even his girlfriend? 

And if he had a girlfriend, then why was he flirting with you?

“Really?!” The woman exclaimed, slapping Joe’s arm. “You take me to your place, fuck me, and I haven’t even left yet, and you’re already flirting with another girl?!” 

Your eyes widened as you stood there dumbfounded at what she just told him. Your lips parted about to reason with her that you didn’t know he had a girl inside his apartment, but she had started yelling at Joe. She swung her purse to hit him on his stomach, making Joe groan and hunched down in pain before she turned to look at you with wide angry eyes. 

Oh god. 

You couldn’t believe you fell for it. 

You couldn’t believe that you fell for Joe’s charms and flirt talk, only for you to find out that he was a player. He had another girl in his apartment, and he was flirting with you? 

What the fuck was wrong with him?

The woman set her palms on his chest and pushed him away and nudged you with her shoulder to push you aside before walking away. You stood there, feeling astounded because you couldn’t even comprehend what just happened. You were exhausted, you were sweaty, and you could barely feel your hands from carrying heavy boxes all day. Your brain was too fried to even deal with this. You couldn’t help but blame the heat for getting too much into your head. 

Joe looked over his shoulder, watching the woman walk away as he shook his head and turned back to you. 

“She’s just overreacting.” Joe explained. 

Tilting your head at him, you raised your brows and let out a scoff. 

“Oh really?” You asked, irritated. “Or you’re just a player?”

You shook your head in disbelief, picking up the box from the floor and walked inside your apartment and slammed the door shut behind you. 

You couldn’t believe that you actually fell for that. 

Looking up from what she was doing, Sara knitted her brows as soon as she saw you enter the kitchen. She couldn’t even describe the expression that was on your face when you had set the box down on the floor.

“What happened?” Sara asked. 

“Stay away from the man across the hall.” You said. “He’s a pig.”

Sara just chuckled softly, shaking head. Knowing you for the last couple of years, she knew you could be overdramatic sometimes, especially when it came with men. Although, she didn’t actually expect that the first day in this new apartment was going to be the first of many fights that you and Joe would have. She also didn’t expect that this was going to be something that she was going to start dealing with for the next two years. 

As you got up early the next morning, you went for a quick jog around the neighborhood and as soon as you came back into the apartment building, you saw Joe leading a different girl out of his place. You couldn’t help but shake your head and felt disgusted by his behaviour. Then, as days, weeks, months went by, it was the same thing almost every week. 

It annoyed you to the core.

You found out a month later that he was an actor and that was why he looked so familiar when you first met him. It wasn’t like you have seen his projects before. Just that one Stranger Things show, but you barely even finished it. However, his little celebrity status wasn’t what you really cared about. You were more disgusted by the fact that he thought he could get whoever he wanted and act like this just because he was an actor. 

Ever since then, you had promised yourself to never fall for anything that he would tell you ever again. 

Present Day…

The Friday night rush hit the subway station a little too early. You just got out of the office, and you were ready to just go home and snuggle under your comfy blanket. Your eyes studied the many faces of people inside the subway car as you held onto the metal pole. It was packed and everyone was literally shoulder to shoulder. 

Thank god that your stop was next because it was starting to smell in there, and you hated it when it was this crowded in the subway. Walking out of the station, you decided to stop by at a local shop near your apartment building and pick up some snacks. As you walked through the aisles, you didn’t even care what you picked out on the shelves. You just started putting everything in your basket, whatever that looked satisfying to you. It was Friday, and you had a long, exhausting day. You deserved a little treat after all the stress from work that you have been dealing with. 

Arriving at your apartment building, the moment you exited out the elevator, you instantly saw Joe walking out of his apartment. His curly hair pushed back, he was in fancy clothes, and a playful grin tugged on his lips the moment his eyes caught you. You rolled your eyes at him as he chuckled softly when he passed by. 

“Is that what you're going to do on a Friday night?” Joe asked, looking down at the plastic bag that you were holding in your hand. 

You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him with an annoyed expression on your face. The last thing you wanted to do was deal with his obnoxious behavior. 

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Your eyes were literally giving him a death glare. 

Joe’s grin widened as he took a few steps forward closer to you. His index finger softly grazed the top of your nose as he poked it. Immediately, you made a face and swatted his hand away. 

“Not with yours.” Joe murmured, amusement all over his face.

You could feel the anger and frustration coming up in your emotions. You didn’t understand how he never got tired of annoying you. It has been two years since you have moved in and every day, Joe always found a way to make you feel irritated. You didn’t care one bit if he was an actor. You didn’t care if he has a little celebrity status. 

He was still disgusting, and he was still a pig. 

You felt your nose flared in anger as you grimaced at his little comment. “Is there someone else you could torture?!”

Your voice raised as Joe laughed softly and poked your nose again. 

“Yes, but I like doing it to you.” 

“And what are you going to do, hm?” You raised your brow at him. “You’re gonna go out there and pick up a new girl again?”

Joe shrugged, “Well, at least I’m not spending my Friday night with a bag of Doritos and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.”

“Well, at least I’m not an asshole.” You retorted back.

Pushing him out of your way with your shoulder, you could see the playful grin that kept tugging on his lips, but you ignored it as you unlocked your door and immediately slammed the door shut behind you. Groaning in frustration, you set the plastic bag on the dining table and saw Sara walking out of the bathroom. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and she was holding a towel to dry it. 

“What did he do now?” Sara asked. 

Sara had lived with you in this apartment building for two years now, and she knew exactly what was happening whenever you entered your apartment with that look on your face. There was no one else in this world that could get under your skin but Joe. Not even your annoying boss or co-workers at work could get you all worked up like this, and Sara could see that every time.

Sometimes Sara would wish that Joe would literally get under your skin, so the both of you could stop playing this game and admit what you two actually felt for one another.

But she would never say that to you nor would admit what she could see between the both of you.

She knew it would just enrage you even more. She couldn’t help but just shake her head and chuckle at your reaction all the time because after all, it seemed like she was the only one who could see why Joe tends to push all your buttons so easily.

“He’s just being an asshole like always.” You grumbled, taking out the snacks that you bought from the plastic bag. 

Sara laughed softly, grabbing the bag of Doritos, opening it. She tilted her head at you and said, “You know, I don't understand why can’t you both just ignore each other?”

You gazed up at her with an even more frustrated look on your face. “Are you kidding? You think I don’t wanna do that? He’s the one who’s always starting something.” 

“Always?” Sara raised her brow at you. 

What was she trying to say? 

When you didn’t answer her question, she added, “Remember when he had a package that was accidentally left on our doorstep, and you held it hostage for two weeks?”

You knitted your brows, stuttering for a moment and said, “He… He deserved it. Besides, I was doing everyone a favor.” 

“Holding his package hostage until he kept the noises down from his apartment wasn’t doing everyone a favor!” Sara argued. “You two were arguing in the middle of the hall every day, and that was a lot noisier.” 

You rolled your eyes, scratching your forehead in frustration. You shrugged your shoulders and pursed your lips without even arguing back with Sara because yeah, you did that on purpose because you just wanted to piss him off the way he always pissed you off all the time. 

“Are you still mad about what happened two years ago?” Sara asked.

You scoffed, stunned at the subject that Sara had brought up. 

“No!” Your voice sounded defensive. “Yes, I clearly fell for his charms but that was before I knew how much of a fuckboy he is.”

Sara chuckled, rolling her eyes at the excuse that you were throwing at her. She never pressed the subject every time she would see that the angry meter on top of your head was starting to spill over. Sometimes she would just imagine grabbing the both of you and banging each other’s heads to see if you both would realize how ridiculous this stupid game you two kept playing. She never understood how both of you weren’t tired of it after two years.

“Which is too bad.” You added, grumbling under your breath. “Because he’s cute.”

Sara stuffed her mouth with Doritos as she settled herself on the sofa. She lets you continue grumbling under your breath until you have let all your feelings out. That was what she always did because then, she would be able to really see how strong your feelings were for Joe. She knew you were just angry with how he behaves, so Sara just let you do your thing as she started browsing movies on Netflix. 

“Hey! That’s my Doritos!” You scolded her after you finally had gone back to reality.

“Too late now.” Sara deviously smiled, throwing a piece of Dorito at you. “Are you done?”

“Done with what?”

“Grumbling over Joe.”

“I wasn’t—” You exhaled a sharp breath. “You know what, I’m gonna go freshen up. You can pick the movie for tonight.”

Walking away, you went to shower to wash away today's stress and settled next to Sara later that night. Holding the pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, you reached over and grabbed some Doritos from the bag that was sitting on Sara’s lap. As you focus your attention on the movie, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander somewhere else. You couldn’t help but recall your little conversation with Joe from earlier. 

“Are we this sad? Spending Friday nights like this?” You asked Sara, turning to face her. 

Sara shrugged, gazing up at the ceiling for a moment as if she was thinking about your question carefully. 

“Maybe.” She answered. “But at least we’re not getting our hearts broken.”

Laughing softly with her, you nodded your head in agreement. 

“True.” 

*********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. mention of injury to reader and bruises from a mission (reader is a teacher), established friendship btw reader and nanami, slightly angsty and hurt/comfort. wc 1.6k

divider by my beloved @/cafekitsune

“Nanami told me that he thinks I’m vain today.”

Standing at Satoru’s side in your bathroom, the mirror still foggy from the shower the two of you just finished, you stop dabbing a cream around your eye under the assumption the fancy shit listed on the box will help brighten the appearance of the rapidly darkening bruise on your face.

You took a solo mission today, something that was meant to be small and quick while he took care of your students, and instead he ended up hauling you home after an afternoon spent in Shoko’s office getting the scrapes across your shoulder and neck looked at. You exorcized the curse but not without taking damage of your own.

Turning to look at the man who leans on the counter beside you, it’s hard not to sigh with a tinge of melancholy. The irony of him, in his near marble-like perfection, asking you, trying to stave off a black eye you should have just let Shoko fix instead of calling it a waste of her abilities, isn’t lost on you in the moment so you snort and shake your head, wiping your fingers on the soft towel next to you.

“I think we all are. I know for a fact Kento can be vain so maybe he shouldn’t give you too hard of a time.” Gojo chuckles and you smile in return, putting the jar down on the counter and looking up at him. “Why did he say that? What were you guys talking about?”

“You. That mission.”

His eyes flit to the darkness around your orbital socket, the yellow turning maroon turning purple, and he wrinkles his nose. The only reason it was brought up between the two men was out of concern for you, Nanami upset that you went on the mission alone to return injured, and the conversation became terse as soon as Satoru joked about your bruises.

“You’re so vain it would be admirable if it weren’t disgusting,” Nanami tutted at his colleague while swinging the door to Shoko’s exam room open to see you sitting with your legs swinging off of the edge of the examination table. They both gasped when you turned to look at them, eye swollen shut.

“What about me and the mission?” You mutter in the present, water droplets still covering your shoulders. It’s not news to you that your pseudo boyfriend and your best friend may discuss you on occasion but you bristle at anyone potentially questioning your ability to take care of yourself. It is one of the things the two men know about you with utmost certainty. “I handled it.”

Satoru chuckles and scrubs his hand over his face, raking his fingers through his still damp hair.

“You have a black eye that can’t be hidden no matter how much of that crap you dab on it and I healed a paper cut on myself an hour ago.”

Smiling, you lean and press your cheek into his bare arm and the cool skin feels nice against your sore and hot face. You idly twist the cap of your cream back and forth, looking at your reflections in the mirror in front of you, shocked by the stark difference in your own roughed up face and the near perfection standing next to you. You quickly look away and he notices, glancing down to watch your face twist into something he’s afraid will be upsetting if he thinks about it for more than a passing moment. Clearing your throat, you gaze back up at him but not in the mirror, putting your smile back into place.

“Do you think you heal yourself because of vanity, though? I think you do it just because you can.”

He tilts his head to the side and you move away from him slightly only to be pulled back against his side with his arm draping over your shoulders. Can’t get away so easily now and he shrugs.

“What else would it be?”

You wrap your arms around Satoru’s waist and gently run your fingernails along his side, light pink tracks left behind in your wake. He raises a brow and you hum, as if you’re a scientist taking notes about their experiment. A few beats pass and the scratches have turned into something deeper red and angry. You soothe the scratches with your fingertips and he stays still, pinned to where he’s standing by your touch.

“If you were vain you would have already healed those. It would take like one one thousandth of your power to do that.”

He laughs. It’s hard to argue your point when the scratches grow more red with every passing second. They don’t hurt, of course, and he keeps his Infinity off when you are near and he “ahh’s” to himself softly when he realizes where your line of thinking is carrying both of you. You smile and squeeze him.

“It isn’t about vanity, Satoru, it’s about untouchability. If there isn’t a visible scratch on you is it possible to even leave one?”

“You know better than anyone that it’s possible to leave one,” his eyes dart to the red covering his side that is slowly fading into pink and will soon be gone.

“Yeah, only because you want me to.”

You watch the marks disappear before your very eyes, still refusing to glance at your own reflection and witness how bad the bruise around the left one really is. Caffeine cream can’t fix this one.

“And how about you, tough guy? What about that thing?”

All you can do is shrug in response to his questions. Satoru brings his fingers to your face and gently traces the corner of your eye. It’s still a little tender and you hiss but he doesn’t move, cupping the side of your face in his large palm.

“Maybe I want people to think I’m untouchable too.”

“With a giant shiner?”

You laugh, shifting your face and pressing your nose into his side and his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head.

“Being untouchable is different for both of us. People know you are and want to see it first hand so you can’t walk around with a bruise the size of a grapefruit.” He raises his eyebrows and nods, gaze still fixed on where you hide your face in his side. “I can and it’ll make everyone think I’m tough.”

“So tough you can’t even look at yourself?”

You scoff and unbury your face, looking up at him with a scowl. The bruise has darkened significantly and he resists the urge to reach out and touch it again, fascinated and horrified all at once that this happened to you to begin with. Maybe he should have gone with you. Maybe you need more training, to be better at keeping your guard up (something you are notoriously terrible at) or maybe it was just a slip of your attention while distracted by other things.

Sneaking a glance at yourself in the mirror, you can’t glance for more than a moment but whatever emotion it evokes you hide, swallowing thickly and half smiling up at your boyfriend.

“It’ll go away in a couple of days, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He hums, unconvinced of your words.

For Satoru, seeing the swollen flesh is a reminder of how vulnerable you are. It horrifies him how easily you can be hurt and how much worse things could have been and how he’s so out of touch with his own vulnerability at times that yours is something he joked about as if he hadn’t said goodbye to loved ones in Shoko’s exam room before.

“I will always worry about you no matter what,” he admits with a defeated sigh.

Turning his body so that he can envelop you in his arms and hold you against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His arms feel gentle around you, full of careful affection, and you wrap your arms around his waist and drop the act for a few minutes.

“It was scary today,” you admit and he kisses your forehead again, his grip tightening.

“I know. I know it was and I’m sorry I wasn-“

You shush him with a sharp hiss and he looks down at you, wet hair flopping over his nose and eyes and dripping down into your face. This makes you laugh which in turn makes him do the same despite the seriousness of the moment and suddenly, things feel okay for both of you.

“Don’t apologize to me for that Satoru, I’m not your responsibility. I can handle myself even if I slip up sometimes.”

The laughter tapers off quickly with your words and he doesn’t speak for a moment for fear of saying the wrong thing. He knows you’re capable of a multitude of things but keeping you safe is his responsibility.

“I love you.”

Because he loves you. All he’s feeling right now can be summed up with those three words so he chooses to speak none additional, watching a smile spread across your face. You rise to your tiptoes to press your lips against his, fingers finding the base of his neck and resting there. The kisses are lazy and slow and precious, especially after the scare you had.

“Even with the giant shiner?”

Backing away from him, you smile and rest your chin between his pecs, arms still wrapped around his waist. He chuckles and cups your face in his big palms, gently kissing the skin at the edge of your bruise.

“Are you joking? Even more.”

You smile and gently massage the base of his spine with your thumbs, smoothing through the dimples that rest right above where the towel sits on his hips. Gojo smirks, chuckling to himself and pulling you closer to him until no space remains between your bodies. He reaches for your face and touches your warm skin with his thumb, shaking his head.

“I love you even more, baby.”

[seancekitsch]

Vox from Hazbin Hotel x siren! reader?? PLEASEE i love this concept sm-

i think i accidentally created myself an oc, also, if you spot the showgirls reference ill give you a cookie, this is inspired by the general flavor of moulin rouge and showgirls

“What the FUCK?!” you all but screech, throwing your blush frustratedly at your vanity. The small compact hits the cool marble, and immediately the product with the pan shatters, ruined. It was expensive. Fuck. 

“I- I don’t know what happened…” Jinni, a succubus, your assistant and opening act, stutters from the door. Scared. 

You deflate, rolling your eyes as you calm yourself and stop scaring the girl. You have to remember to stop raging near her. She’s young, too young. 

Overlords in the club mean a good tip, mean security, mean you and girls like Jinni make rent safely and have some fun money to toss around as well. You practically fall into your chair, yank a fake eyelash off as you sigh, ready to put on the next pair for your closing number. 

“There’s gotta be some reason the voice didn’t work on him,” you say, “I’m gonna find out why.”

“Are you sure thats a good idea?” Jinni asks, her tail curling around one of her legs. You have a soft spot for the girl, you really do. A place like this is gonna tear her apart; or at least, it would if you didn’t immediately take her under your wing. You pat the little chair beside you, and wrap your arms around the girl as soon as she takes the spot. 

You both stare at each other’s eyes through the mirror, sweat and make up blurred against your complexions, a reassuring smile spreads across your face. 

“I’ll check and see if he has the VIP package, and pull out the damsel in distress act,” you tell the little succubus, now cheek to cheek with her.  She smiles at you through the mirror, knowing full well you’re ready to ham it up.

“Thats your best one,” she says, and comes closer to pick up a body glitter for you. Jinni leans on the chair behind you, resting her forearms on your shoulders. You gaze at her while your hand moves with the brush across your face, at this point muscle memory kicks in, flawless. She’s why you still play nice, you think. 

“Gonna make sure you don’t have to go back to doggy chow for dinner,” you chide as you finish up your new look, a bit more dewy and innocent looking, as you shake her off and grab a lace robe to walk backstage in. Jinni laughs, and then takes your seat to take off her own make up. 

You’ve done this walk thousands of times, the long dimly lit hallway, all of the girls rooms hidden behind flimsy curtains and makeshift doors, signed by girls current and long since past. Your feet feel light below you, though nerves course through your veins. The patrons cheering is almost quieted here, all the quiet white noise that sets you ablaze in excitement and anticipation for another performance. 

But before the end of the hall can be reached, a meaty hand comes out to stop you, wrapping around your bicep. 

“Outta my way, Flicker, I gotta tell the sound guy to switch my track,” You turn your head away from the stage manager, not willing to take a face full of his calamari breath.  

“You ain’t goin’ out there again tonight,” he explains, “Got a private booking with a big spender.”

You sigh, right, just what you needed right now. You wish you could shoot a quick text to Jinni but… your phone is back in your dressing room with her. She’ll have to fair without you until this is over. 

“Right now?” you meet his eyes, and you can tell he wanted you in there five minutes ago. Shit. Well, here goes the girls' good tips for the night, you sigh, and turn towards the stairwell that leads you up to the private boxes. 

These rooms are gross; there’s no way to sugar coat it. You hate private bookings, much preferring to dance on the floor with any high spending patrons, giving them the girlfriend experience while you have the added safety of being able to slip away. These private rooms don't even have walls, more like private theater boxes so the managers can make sure you're keeping the clients happy. Up here, your talents are much more obvious, much harder to avoid blame.

You wonder what this guy will want. A champagne pour? A strip tease? Or worst of all, a dry hump or an over the pants job? You’d hate for this asshole to fuck up your costume or make up. That shits not cheap down here, and you only hope that after this private booking the overlord in the back of the hall might have loosened up and opened his wallets to one of the other girls or the house. 

But it still digs at you, like an old wound you cannot help but pick at… that your voice didn’t work on—

Him.

Its him. You can see through the sheer curtain the overlord in a suit. An old fashioned in his hand as he leans against the railing, the finale of the show tonight kicking into full gear below, all of the patrons like dogs on leashes waiting to be released to dance and party with the girls until dawn once the stage is clear. 

“Oh, Sir!” you call to him as you pull back the curtain, your flimsy robe fluttering behind you, “What is a man of your caliber doing in a place like this?”

Maybe you’re laying it on a little thick with the sultry little voice and the innocent act, but that’s what the men pay you for. He turns quickly, as if he didn’t expect you here so soon, but his smile quickly grows, teeth glowing against the low lighting of the private box. 

“What do you mean?” HIs voice is smooth as butter, “Is a man of MY caliber not supposed to admire beautiful things? Consider me a patron of the arts.”

You lounge yourself on one of the couches, effortlessly parting the bottom of your robe, kicking your legs up, really giving him a show. The boning of your costume digs into your ribs, but you don’t move. You always win over the higher spenders by laying out the feast for them. 

“Is that so?” you ask, a fake demure giggle leaving your lips, “Well then consider me confused, because you didn’t look so happy during my number earlier.”

The glow of his eyes distracted you, both out on stage earlier and now. His gaze intense, his posture rigid. 

“Maybe,” he trails off, crossing the little box until he’s in reach. One of his large hands wraps around your ankle, and then carelessly yanks your ankle off the couch to force you sitting upright. Okay, you’re only a little offended. Moreso intrigued by his seemingly complete lack of attraction to you. You drop your robe from one shoulder, baring more skin to entice him. Men are men, after all. He moves to sit at the other end of the couch. Maybe not all is lost, you think, as you pour a glass of champagne from the side table. The girl they threw on stage instead of you is killing this performance from what you can tell, and you know she’ll finish strong by the aerial rig set up and ready to go for her. You sip your glass as he sips his, and lean in closer to him, hoping that a little more proximity to him will help you figure out his deal. 

“But maybe I’m more wondering what the fuck someone like you is doing here,” he sneers as he stands, leaving you falling sideways into the space he vacated, nearly spilling your glass. 

“I- I beg your pardon?” you splutter, the sultry voice gone for a moment as you check to make sure you didn’t waste a drop of champagne on your robe.

“And stop with the agreeable little whore act, you can talk to me,” he winks at you as he says it,  red glowing eye rimmed with teal. You sigh as you brush yourself off from both he physical and metaphorical stumble. Okay, what does he know?

“Someone like me?” you ask, your real voice now dripping through. 

“Someone with power, darling,” The overlord says as if it’s obvious, “Someone with a talent like mine.”

He finishes his drink, and tosses the glass over the railing into the patrons gallery below.

“I could use someone with talents like yours,” he says, and your blood runs cold. You know what overlords mean when they say that. Your eyes dart to the curtain, to the hallway. If you shouted, would Flicker hear you? Wait- What are you thinking? He doesn’t give a rats ass about his girls’ safety. 

You do the only thing you can, you open your mouth to sing.

“Ah ah ah, nope,” he holds up a finger to silence you before you can begin, “That won’t work.”

You close your mouth, open it, close it again. 

“How did you know?”

If he knows, he can tell. If he tells, you lose money. Girls back on the street, you without a plan here.

His scowl turns to a smile, his eyes glowing brighter, circular rimming pulsating within his sclera. A funny tickle passes over you, as if he was blowing on you, gentle and odd. You furrow your brow, and then your jaw drops. You get it now. 

“Oh, Sir!” you play it up, ‘agreeable little whore’ voice as he called it back in full force, “I didn’t realize we were so evenly matched!” 

“I’m glad the smartest girl in this joint is also the prettiest,” he flirts, walking back over to the couch until he’s leaning on the arm of it. 

“How were you thinking of spending the evening mister…?” You stick to script if you trail off, not wanting to ask him outright what he wanted, now that you know what you’re dealing with.

He crackles, static, his glow dimming momentarily.

“Vox, darling. Where are my manners?” he finally introduces himself as he reaches over you for the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket and the other glass. He knows this game too, you realize, as his cologne wafts over you; something rich and woodsy. Attractive and expensive. 

“I’d like to offer my patronage, to your little,” he gestures around with the empty flute before pouring it, “artistic endeavors personally.”

That would be nice. A steady patron would mean steady money, steady numbers and acts, a bigger costume budget. His lap doesn't seem like a bad one to be perched on.

“Thats very generous, Mister Vox,” you say, holding out your glass for him to top it off, “But I can’t help but wonder what you want in return?”

His smile changes, less sharp, more real as he moves the neck of the bottle to your glass. He looks you up and down, scrutinizing every detail. 

“Your voice,” he goes on to explain, “For some important events, some advertising. I can make you a star, darling.”

It dawns on you that he hasn’t even asked your name, but then again you also weren’t going to give a client your real name. The entire idea is attractive, desirable. The patronage of a handsome powerful man, a legitimate name for yourself in the entertainment industry, security.

You reach upward clink your glass against his, urging him to clink yours back.

“You’ll have to win me over with a dance,” you tease him, your lips curling into a downright vicious smile. 

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 1?

next part!

(idk i might continue it?? should i? i know it’s more niche)

MINORS DNI

CW: Chubby F!reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, cheating themes, reader in a dress, pet names for reader(darling, ) not smutty yet! slow burn possibly

keep thinking about a chubby housewife reader to like a really shitty but rich man, and they move next door to Jasper………………. MMMMM

Anything in Red reader isn’t aware of

Your husband moved you both into a beautiful mansion in a gated community. It’s amazing, and everything you could ever need, he’s providing.

You fell in love with him a year and a half ago.

It’s not like he lied, but you wouldn’t have married him had you known what he was really like.

He drinks all day and complains all night, and when he fucks you, he finishes in a few seconds. And that’s when he does fuck you! He’s hardly ever even touching you let alone getting it in.

You are standing outside overseeing the movers as they take boxes and furniture into your brand new house. your skirt dances against your legs in the warm, gentle breeze.

Your husband swirls an amber liquid in a short crystal glass, watching you from the doorway. When you wave excitedly, he skulks back into the mansion.

Your heartstrings tug painfully.

He’s taken you far away from all of your loved ones, somewhere where you’re all alone and afraid… And he can’t even be there for you at least little bit? Before a stinging tear fully can form-

“Evenin’” You hear a lazy male voice from nearby, and spin toward your hedges. There’s a wrought gate between yours, and your neighbors’ yard directly… The old neighbors must’ve been their friend. A young looking guy stands on the other side of it, waving kindly to you. His posture is easy, one hand in his jean pocket, the other up in the air, his head tipped back exposing his pale neck. Long black hair frames his face, loaded with piercings. He looks out of place, but perfectly at home standing out.

You approach, figuring that your husband can lead the movers just fine on his own. You don’t notice your slight pout, but Jasper finds it adorable, he bites his lip, eyeing you up.

“Sorry I didn’t bake ya a pie, didn’t know the place would be sold so soon.” He laughs and lazily scratches the back of his head, his shirt pulls up revealing his hip bone.

“Why? ‘s it haunted? OooOo” You wave your fingers to mock something spooky.

He laughs at your cute demeanor, “Eh maybe, last owner did die,” he shrugs.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t know….” You idly run your fingers over the cold, slightly bumpy textured gate.

“Nothing to be sorry for, didn’t know them” He shrugs.

“Oh phew! I thought— Anyway!” You shake your hands and head to reset the convo, “What’s up? why’d you call me over here?” You tilt your head and fold your hands in front of you.

“I was just greeting my pretty new neighbor, that’s all,” He grins.

“Oh stop! I’m married!” You shyly laugh and turn your head so that he can’t see you’re flustered.

“happily?” His grin grows as does his suspicion.

“Oh!” You think of an excuse to quickly leave, “I think the movers are calling me!” You rush off back to at least pretend to delegate again.

His brow raises curiously as he smiles after you, watching your curves sway as you walk away.

The stranger watches you for a few minutes longer, and you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare turn around and encourage him.

You are a good wife. Regardless of who you ended up marrying. You stomp, steadfast in your decision.

He chuckles before walking back to his home.

~

Inside you finish setting the table with the house workers, and arranging the flowers on all the marble pedestals around the dining room. Your husband is having some business partners over for dinner.

As the door rings you rush to answer the door, and an employee beats you to it, taking their coat and everything.

You aren’t really sure what you should be doing… And your chest tightens with nerves.

“What are you doing out here? You should be with me.” Edward grabs your elbow and drags you along. He’s being rather rough but you can’t help feel a little grateful to be lead. It doesn’t stop your eyes burning in embarrassment.

He sets you down in the seat next to his at the head, and your heart flutters with pride, emotional whiplash aside.

A few men enter the dining room one after the other, and then dinner is served. you’re dissociating for most of it, just nodding along to their dull conversation, until your husband’s hand clasps around your thigh. “Huh?”

“You’re excused now, darling,” he has a cold look in his eye that startles you.

“What?” What he said hurt your feelings, he doesn’t want you around now? did you do something wrong?

“Leave, let us grown ups talk now” He laughs with his business friends joining in.

You feel that far too familiar sting in your eyes, how could he!? that’s so embarrassing! You’re his wife.

Doing your best, you stand without making a scene and give them all your most polite and proper departing smile.

~

It’s cold on the patio. Your evening dress doesn’t cover very much and where it does, the fabric is cool. You’re quick to shiver, but you remain.

There’s a security camera above you and you feel watched, so you decide to go for a walk around the block instead of staying stationary. Maybe that will warm you up a little too.

You creep out the front gate, feeling like you’re a teen again, sneaking out when you aren’t supposed to… But this is your home! you aren’t disallowed from taking a walk!

“Hah!” You laugh to yourself, how silly of a feeling you just had.

As you round a corner adorned by an iron lamp post with glowing twin lanterns, you start dwelling more and more on your predicament. You already felt lonesome before, where Edward had made you feel special, and told you you’d never be alone again. Yet here you are, walking down the dim street, alone.

An engine coming towards you snaps you out of your thoughts, you turn to see a large van slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart thumps and your mind races before the driver side window rolls down revealing your neighbor’s laid back, and smirking face.

You let out a shaky sigh, “oh goodness you scared me for a second!” followed by a nervous laugh.

“You alright? Want a ride?” He asks.

“Oh no, don’t worry about me! I was just taking a stroll,” You let your words hang, wanting to accept but being a little too frightened or nervous to outright accept.

“C’mon, we can have some coffee or tea at my place, ‘sides, i’d feel terrible if i just left ya out here at this time, sure it’s gated but a tasty lookin’ treat like you’d get snatched up in a heartbeat.”

Your face feels hot but you nod and mangange to get out an “mhm!”

He watches you round the front of his van, and reaches his body over the center console to open the passenger door for you.

He offers his hand to help you up, when you take it, it’s cold! “What have you been up to? You feel like death! here!” You bring his hand up to your face and blow warm air over his knuckles.

Crimson fills his cheeks for the moment and is swift to clear back out before you can really admire it.

You pull back away a little embarrassed yourself, you aren’t sure why you did that to a stranger! “Oh! I don’t even know your name! I’m Y/N!” You stick your hand back out in offer to shake his.

He takes it, “Jasper,” a small smile tugs at his lips.

~

The drive isn’t long, but you realize how far from home you actually were, and wonder what he had been doing to find you.

You step out onto his driveway and anxiously look through the gate connecting your yards. It feels as though this is something you really shouldn’t be doing… But this Jasper guy could be a friend, and then you won’t be so lonely anymore!

Your home is still lit up inside, so you’re assuming they’re still talking in there.

Jasper’s space on the inside is dimly lit, but brightly coloured retro fantasy, all soft shapes with rounded sides. Mostly pinks and purples. Very vaporwave. The kitchen tiles, though the typical black and white checker board, warp and look like waves on the floor. Plants cover most all the surfaces.

He makes you your preferred tea, or coffee, he doesn’t make himself a cup of either. Instead he grabs a pale blue, and silver can from the fridge.

“Oh i see how it is,” You say with sarcasm.

“I figured you’d need to warm up,” A smile crosses his lips that has your body feeling hot.

You sip your drink nonchalantly.

“So what were you doing out there by yourself?”

“My husband— Nevermind, sorry. I shouldn’t talk bad about my husband behind his back…”

“Well I know something we could do if you don’t wanna go back yet…” his brow raises in a challenge.

[aloesarchives]

Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds. 

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets. 

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you. 

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have  good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

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[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (viii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : the triplets' birthday party is a perfect place for flirting, tension, and... well, matt and y/n's forte.

warnings : use of alcohol, weed and smut ( just a lil flithy icl ), beware that the word count on this ho is crazy - meaning i did not proofread!

mickey speaks : this took a MINUTE to get out im sawrryyyy. i tried to fit everything into one part and ended up rewriting almost the entire part last minute (which is most of the reason why this is very delayed), sooo hope you love??? bc i dont lmfao also the triplets r a couple yrs older in this (turning 23)

THIS IS PART EIGHT GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!

"JESUS, matt. can you take this seriously, please?" chris scoffs, taking the dry-erase marker cap from its awkward spot between his teeth.

matt's not one to continue adding his opinion knowing it won't be listened to. he prefers to leave the impossible-to-get-a-word-in debating to nick and chris who have no problem yelling over each other to the point that they don't even know what the issue ever was.

so he's found comfort in sitting at the dining room table with his eyes firmly closed and arms used as a pillow for his head, leaving nothing but a dollop of his hair to be shown, or as he told chris "attempting to find peace for myself while living with you chaotic fucks."

"what could you possibly want from me?" matt asks without moving from his face down position, voice muffled and strained.

"i want you to fight for your opinion! don't you care about what we do for our birthday?!" chris stresses while nick rolls his eyes and falls into a bored stance, leaning against the dark marble counter.

matt finally raises his head causing his face to scrunch up and eyes to squint due to the sudden and bright change in lighting, "no? i actually don't give a shit, chris."

chris first feels the instigator within him sighing in defeat only for his pride to take center. he figures if nick has practically given up and matt cares so little, that gives him all of the creative action for birthday plans. exactly what he wanted.

his lips form a tight line to hide his satisfaction as he shakes his head slowly, unevenly wiping his hand across the magnetic white board (that he used to write the many ideas thrown around in his head, mistakenly thinking a visual would narrow things down for him and nick). “‘kay. then i’m getting nate to help plan us a house party and it'll be fucking perfect. because i care.”

౨ৎ

you've never been so grateful of your front door's placement this close to the kitchen. but carrying three cake boxes and a tote bag the size of your torso, desperately needing to put them down after traveling up three flights of stairs, will surely be the task that brings that gratitude out of you.

though when you arrive, your scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips are an apparent contrast to the enthusiastic vibe of your kitchen- with andrea moving her hips to the lines of spanish dancing in the air, waiting patiently for the sizzling indication of her fried egg's tenderness, and the use of pink lemonade-colored towels or handles on utensils (that made you and andrea way too happy during one of your first target runs as roommates) scattered around.

drea finally notices you when your metal keychain clanks against the countertop, "y/n!" her excitement slightly dulls with her widened eyes when she gets a better view of your face, turning the stove off and coming closer to hug you. "hi, good morning-ish. are you feeling okay? ...or, like, sad?" you silently accept her gesture and tuck your head in her neck while she caresses your hair with a sigh, "or both at the same time...?"

your response is a breathy sigh and pause before the words tumble out, "m'fine, i think. just overestimated myself a little with staying up so late." you remove your head from her neck and move backwards to lean against the countertop, fanning your hands to create a much needed breeze, "and i'm so hot, it's making me feel gross."

andrea peers into the clear plastic cutout on top of one of the boxes, "at least the cakes look nice."

a week ago you set your mind on gifting the triplets their own cakes for their birthday (thinking that sharing a day was already enough, no way would you want them to have to share and agree on only one cake). you easily gathered their cake preferences by sneaking it into any random conversations you'd have with each of them.

and after a week of planning and preparing, was it so bad if you wanted a fun night in with your roomie? andrea warned you several times to go to bed considering you'd be up at 5:30 the next morning, but you insisted that you'd be fine and asked her to help you clear the rest of the box-wine in the fridge.

you could tell matt was a little irritated that you chose rewatching episodes of a sitcom and "cheap ass box-wine" over sex with him (of course throwing the fact that his birthday would be arriving in only a few hours right in your face) but you pioneered and assured him that you'll make time for him the next day, while also sweetly reminding him that you too have a life outside of this exchange.

at midnight you sent the triplets a group message to congratulate. and a few minutes later you left andrea on the couch for your room, sending matt a birthday text of his own (because you did feel the tiniest bit guilty for rejecting him earlier) paired with a picture with your shirt lifted, hem tucked behind your teeth, and your boobs sat in a sheer bra with decorative white trimming and a bow in the center.

he didn't respond for almost an hour and you tried to not feel embarrassed or overthink his reaction at all.

you couldn't stand the giddiness that came over you (you'd blame it on being the slightest bit tipsy) when you finally got into bed to find his response gentle, in his own matt-kind-of-way, with your image loved and a grayed bubble text reading: "Very pretty, thank you"

"thanks, drea. they were a bitch to make." water drowns out your voice as you start to wash your hands in the deep sink. you run your soapy fingers over a small cut you got when dealing with an irritating cardboard box earlier, finding the stinging of the hot water a wonderful kind of bitter that further plays into your foul mood.

"mmm... i'm sure. but it's not like you can even tell. they almost look store-bought," she attempts to flatter you, turning her head from the packaged desserts to offer a smile.

when you're sweet you're the most ripe, juicy peach, eveyone knows this. but god, when you're feeling down you really are the most cranky, green apple that could force a pucker onto even the most undaunted. your face is dragged of any aloofness or sunshine with your dry response as she turns to resume her breakfast, "uh huh. you don't have to coddle me. i'll get over myself soon, i promise." you dry your hands.

andrea would argue she's not coddling only looking out for your well being- because she wants to and knows if she were neglecting her needs you'd be right on her ass as well, "okay...and did you eat?"

"just like, a bagel before i left," you open the fridge and let the door hang open as you walk across the kitchen to grab the cake boxes and set them inside. you make sure to mind your feet, noticing figaro nosily has his furry face lifted to sniff into the side door.

she strings some sarcasm into her sentiment, "oh yum." she pauses, letting the sizzle of the egg and (now faint) music linger in the air before she speaks again, "how about you go take a shower or do something that'll make you feel a little better?"

"you know i would but being around my favorite roommate is already making me feel sooo much better!" you deliver the dry joke with a smile and pick up figaro when you shut the fridge door with an accidental slam.

she turns to look at you over her shoulder as she grabs two glass plates for the both of you, scolding you like a mother (as she tended to transform into at times like this due to her essentially parenting her younger siblings) "y/n, you're only fighting yourself, go ahead now."

౨ৎ

matt can hear chris' voice only grow louder and pound against the hallway walls but assumes he is heading anywhere but the space that matt's in, deciding to continue brushing his teeth instead.

he'd only be so lucky on his birthday.

"but yeah-" chris interrupts himself to knock and barely wait for an answer before he walks into matt's sleek bathroom. "matt's here!" his phone is carelessly thrown in front of matt's face (with a frothing mouth and irritated eyes) before he has truly registered anything that has happened.

he truly wants to roll his eyes infinitely but when he sees his mother is the one on the phone, his grumpy front is quickly wilted and a glimmer kisses his spirit in a way only she could produce.

it's clear she hadn't expected matt to be in the middle of something as personal as brushing his teeth when she first sees him, "oh, hi matt!" she understands him well enough to know he absolutely hates this (this being chris unnecessarily close to him as he hunches over to keep matt's face in the camera) so she attempts to amuse him, "wow, you're really showing your age now, aren't you? just looking so put together and nice." she laughs to herself as matt tries to not smile whilst brushing, holding his index finger up to indicate that he would address her with words in only a moment.

"chris, honey, why'd you bring me to your brother when he's busy, anyway?! now we're just watchin' him brush his teeth and the angles you're givin' me are so awkward," she emphasizes her sentence as it goes on.

chris turns the phone back to himself, "because you told me to show him?!"

"no, i said 'where's matt?'" she corrects him in jest.

"okay, so am i incorrect in saying that there was an implication-?"

matt dries his face with a towel and grabs the phone scolding chris, "hey we get it, smartass-" he turns to look at her again with a smile, "sorry mom."

"mhm," she dismisses, "when's this party of yours starting?"

"soon i think," matt moves around chris to exit the bathroom, leaving chris (literally) in the dark.

"okay and how's your birthday been so far?" he smiles knowing how excited she's always been about these things.

"good, i don't feel any different. just doin' the same stuff, except today there's way more people sending me texts and pretending the care about me." matt places the phone against a bowl full of chips in the kitchen, waving when he notices chris followed him.

"get down here nick, mom's on the phone!" chris yells, coming into frame and leaning on the counter. "jeez, matt's masochism can't give any of us a break even on days literally made for our happiness. you hearin' this kid ma?"

matt shakes his head, pointing to chris with his handful of chips, "spell masochism."

chris' eyes pinch and before their mother or chris himself reply, nick is running over to them with a smile and yell of "im heree!!"

she's has the much-expected motherly urge to cry seeing her three sons (whom she rarely sees anymore) all in the same frame, "aw, hi nicky! just look at you boys...so sweet."

it only takes another second before she's crumbling in tears. their smiles drop as chris grabs his phone. they all begin spilling out the most comforting phrases they know to cheer her up.

౨ৎ

"okay people! cake is coming through! everyone move. move, move...precious cargo right here and your ass is in the way!" asha yells and shines her phone's flashlight into the faces in the crowded living room as she ushers the girls to the kitchen.

she earns a few glares that she happily dishes back and a few mumbles of "bitch" once she's walked past that has remi "accidentally" stepping on a certain people's shoes while following asha's lead.

the modern open kitchen hosts plenty of drinks and snacks as well as a worried nathan, who's shirt is barely on his torso from the amount of buttons he's undone since stepping foot in the wild space. "oh thank god the cake's are here," he sighs with a throw of his head before frantically moving a platter of chips and guac (that someone was actively eating from) and a few six packs from the island to the opposite counter, encouraging the girls to place them down with an awkward nod of his head and harsh blink of his eyes.

asha holds back a laugh at nate's odd vibe as she moves next to him, nudging his shoulder, "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing," his head whips to look at her, "well, i mean, think 'm just nervous." he starts slow but it seems he needed someone to finally prompt him to share such a frustrated rant, "like- chris comes to me and asks me to throw him the best party. yet he doesn't give me shit to work with besides his home to host it in-" he breathes, "and 'm feelin' all the pressure of planning a party right now but, you know, i just need things to go smooth and then i'll be fine..." he runs a hand through his hair, "you ladies don't worry about me." he fakes a smile and gives a small wave of his wrist to show just how "fine" he is.

coinciding with nate's rant, you've began to pour a hefty amount of vodka and lemon juice (you absolutely scoured the fridge for) into a large glass. you hand it off to andrea with a pleading "mix" as you lick the remaining lemon juice from your thumb and open cabinets to search for shot glasses.

you line up a multitude of shot glasses with various cities labeled on them as andrea pours the mixture in carefully. you immediately bring one up to nathan, "lemon drop?"

"yes, please. no way your a fucking bartender and baker?" nate's eyes widen as he receives the small glass.

"no, definitely not. just live with a girl whois always making her own drinks at home," you smile and grab your own glass as the rest of the girls follow suit.

"i need this right now," remi starts, "let's cheers to drea's DIY shit and nathan making it through the rest of the night!" she woops and the group all let out various chuckles.

"a-fuckin'-men!" nate leans to clink the small glasses softly before taking the shot quickly. he barely recovers from the shot before he's pouring more vodka into his glass and taking a second.

you get the best view of chris turning the corner and seeing you all (his reaction is more specifically for andrea) have arrived. his jaw hangs dramatically as he walks over but quickly turns to a big smile when the group all start to sing happy birthday to him. "stop it! stop it!" he jokes and begins to give out hugs and thank each of you for coming. he stops and squeezes you extra tight, bringing up the cakes sat nearby, "i know that bakery anywhere. thank you for my cake."

"of course, i had to," you smile.

"no seriously, you're fuckin' awesome, girl." you can tell he's already a little buzzed from the look in his eyes but you also know he's almost more truthful than ever when drunk.

you notice that when he leaves you to finally greet your roommate, it's very clear he's purposely left andrea last to ensure there would be no rush on his interaction.

the rest of the group leave them to their own world for a moment; as the two hug chris gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering "hi, mi cariña (my darling)" an inside joke between the two of them as chris' struggle with speaking spanish never fails to make andrea laugh.

౨ৎ

"okay, okay, i'll do it," matt finally gives in, lifting himself off of the black couch with people piled on top of it. he hands his drink over to elijah smoothly and begins to playfully rub his hands together.

"'hold my beer' headass," elijah jokes placing the cup off on a side table next to him. matt stops any movement, turning his torso to look back at the boy and start to laugh while holding both middle fingers up.

"matt," erin taps him with the side of her arm twice to get his attention again, handing him the second wii remote in her hands. the screen appears extra bright in contrast to the dimness of the room which causes matt to wonder how the fuck anyone has managed to play just dance in this space without getting a sudden head rush or worse.

"okay, let's do timber because it's classic," she suggests.

"let's not," matt opposes, his hand covering his mouth to hide a grin before running his cursor over the other choices.

erin looks over to him with a blank expression, "i mean i don't care that much you can-"

"'m joking, we'll do timber," matt looks from her to the colorful screen to find the song once more.

when he notices she's stiil looking over at him with an unreadable expression, matt smiles big attempting to not laugh, causing his already-slim eyes to pinch a little extra as he turns to her, "hey e, the screen's right up there, you won't be getting much direction from starin' at me-" he breaks into obnoxious laughter mid-way through his sentence which earns him a small smack on the arm.

erin laughs a little now, "would you stop it? just click 'a' on your fucking remote."

he does as she says and looks to her as the screen loads, "thereee we go, you can cool down now, sweetheart."

as the two dance both matt and his friends make one-off comments and jokes about the many times matt almost fell (and would make sure to blame it on the rug or his shoes). they seem to be having such a great time that you don't know if you only being there for the final few lines of the song, watching erin ride matt's back as they spin in circles laughing, is fortunate or unfortunate.

the claps and whistles are wild when the two finish with a bow, the crowd around them only getting louder when matt teases that he's so hot he might have to take off his shirt, lifting it slightly then putting it back down and calling them pervs. you only shake your head and bite back a smile, hating how fucking charming he is when he allows himself to be completely lost in a good time.

matt would say you snuck onto the sectional couch- because a minute ago you weren't there and now here you are talking elijah's ear off and taking repeated hits of his blunt.

but you wouldn't say you snuck into his area, rather walked in a manner in which you'd be out of his and erin's way- of course not taking away from the birthday boy and his...good friend. so you're a bit surprised he slumps on the couch next to you and not in his original spot on the opposite side of eli, "sunnnyy," he huffs and leans his head back against the couch, "when'd you get here, huh?"

you turn to look at him and he smiles at you then looks up to the ceiling, "think an hour ago? maybe?" you hand him the blunt.

"cool, cool, cool..." matt repeats cutting himself off by placing it in his mouth. he's dressed so stylish and attractive you can't help but scan over him with your eyes; his jersey-style shirt showing off his armfuls of tattoos, baggy jeans, car keys hanging on a cheetah print clip attached to his belt loop, shoes that look straight out of the box, a matching hat that you honestly wish he'd take off, and his signature silver jewelry brightening his attributes in the otherwise dark room.

he makes the slightest "tsss" sound when breathing in the drug before speaking with smoke plummeting from his mouth, "you should dance next," he brings it back to his mouth for a final hit.

"mmm maybe...if lucas is up for it," you play with the metal can of a wine cooler that you hold on your bare knee as matt leans over you to hand an occupied eli his blunt back, his laugh trails smoke out of his mouth and into your face as he slouches back next to you.

"forgot you're fuckin, hilarious! holy shit." his hand makes its way up his own shirt to rest on his stomach as he giggles.

a smile grows on your face, "no seriously is he here?" you lift yourself up a little and pretend to look for the familiar face.

"stop that." matt chuckles and tugs your wrist gently. you almost get nervous this time when you look him in the eyes. when he's drunk, matt is so carefree and giggly in a way you rarely get to see. and now you’re starting to notice how the poor lighting makes his features appear arched and his face look carved into, yet the jagged becomes soft and fuzzy whenever the gumdrop-colored lights of the wii game hit his face with the beat of the song. he notices your staring and lets go of your wrist, "what's up?"

"nothing."

"excuse me everyone! i would like to give a speech! hello, i am giving a speechhh! everyone shut up, please!" nick projects his voice into the microphone- he stole from the karaoke machine -while standing on a dining room chair.

as people start to calm down nick speaks, "right, so, it's my fuckin' birthday!” he raises his arms and dances his fingers before pointing out matt, “and it's matt's fuckin' birthday, right over there! let's get some flashlights pointing over to my brother please!" matt’s face flushes as he covers his eyes from the sudden bright lights. you squint your own eyes from next to him and move closer to eli to avoid the flashes.

"and it's chris' fuckin' birthday..." nick looks around, "i couldn't tell you where exactly he is, just know that he is also here tonight!” the crowd roars, “anyway... i'm so- so happy to have you all with us tonight to celebrate. we turn twenty fucking three and... that feels so old saying it out loud. holy shit." nick cringes obnoxiously, slurring his next few words, "but i love my two best friends in the whole world: chris and matt, i wouldn’t wish to share a birthday with anyone else… and i love all of you thank you again. oh! and shout out nathan for holding this shit down! if you see nathan give him something... i don't know- money? a kiss? a drink? fuck if i know." as nick speaks cameron nudges him with a shot glass which he finally acknowledges, "and apparently this is a toast now so, you know, here's to getting older and having the most fun forever!" he raises the glass in the air and drinks it without further thought, inviting everyone to do the same while cheering and applauding him in excitement.

you raise your wine cooler and let out many cheers along with the rest, but of course matt ridicules you a little in jest, "really? you sit here and 'woo' while i'm going blind?!" he’s still wiping at his eyes, dealing with the aftermath of bright lights shining in his eyes; his vision tainted with faint blue and red splotches only for a second. you lean closer to him, attempting to see his eyes better while uncontrollably laughing.

"are you crying?!"

matt thinks you look really pretty even when you're quite literally pointing and laughing in his face. you move his hands away from his face and he widens his eyes dramatically, "look, no 'm not!” you shake your head in response, “does really it look like it?"

you notice his bottom eyelashes are slightly clumped and you move your hand closer, placing your thumb under his eye, "baby, that's damp!" you giggle and pull his hand close, using your thumb to draw a wet line across his tattooed wrist to prove your point.

he drags out his first word, "alrighttt. whatever! you got me, sweet girl. ‘cause god forbid i have the ability to cry?!” pulling away from you with a smile as he dries his eyes by rubbing them gently.

matt excuses himself with a quick "gonna go grab another drink or somethin'" before he does something irrational like kiss you in front of all these fucking people.

౨ৎ

you carefully open each of the packaged cakes, each revealing the boys' full names written in cursive with the uniquely styled and colored buttercream frosting you made that very morning. you used the same shades to make the puffed frosting border of the cakes, for an easy, soft garnish. remi follows behind you, lighting candles on the cakes as you go.

there's a chaos that comes with trying to gather this many (drunk) people in one area and capture their attention long enough to sing then cut cakes. it doesn’t help that the hosts are at their most unserious themselves; matt and nick both snickering and making jokes while holding onto each other while chris talks to one of his friends off to the side with his obnoxiously loud voice without regard for anyone around him.

“okay, people we’re singing!” nathan attempts to yell over the loudness of the crowded room. you and remi are then in the position of getting the attention of the birthday boys who can’t focus on the task at hand, leaving you both to snap your fingers and call them as if you were attempting to take photos of a stubborn baby.

you truly wish it didn’t irk you so terribly but you can’t help your annoyance when matt looks over to erin after she shouts from next to you, “matt, can you pay attention? your cake’s ready,” and he listens, moving nick off of him with a shoulder nudge and laugh as he approaches the row of cakes.

you recover quickly with a smile once both matt and nick’s eyes widen and mouths hang open in awe of your hard work, “s’perfect,” matt whispers to himself, now adjusting his hat to fit backwards.

“oh my god, the wax got in my cake! what the fuck,” nick whines and that cues drea to tug chris’ arm softly and urge him with a hushed, “chris ven aquí (come here)!”

and he's is down so terribly that he moves to where she wants him immediately.

chris is a known sap, especially when wasted, so he’s stood fighting the urge to cry when taking in the scene in front of him: his brothers and friends gathered together to celebrate their twenty three years of life together.

he tucks his lip into his mouth and looks down at the burning flame, slowly smiling when everyone around them begin to sing a rendition of happy birthday with all the charmingly bad high notes and run on “you”s but not forgetting to crunch all three names into a single line.

midway through the song, chris leans to hug matt in comfort while sneaking a reach into matt’s back pocket to grab the slim joint he just knew would be there. he grins to himself, “sweet! free j and free light,” placing it into his mouth as he leans over his cake to spark the joint hanging in his mouth with as much precision as possible. andrea shakes her head in confusion while filming on her phone beside to you.

“dude,” matt lets out a breathy laugh while waving his hand to clear the atmosphere of the potent smoke. sudden applause recognizing the end of the song and leading the three to blow out their candles.

matt gave up on birthday wishes a while into his teen years and nothing changes this year; he blows his candles out and claps along with the crowd before accepting his joint from chris for a few puffs of celebration.

you watch in amusement as nathan distracts the boys with shots to get them away from the cakes as andrea begins to cut. except no shot could beat the view of andrea bent over the counter like she is now, so chris is practically on top of drea with annoying whines of “i wanna see,” when she asks him to be careful and wait a second.

you, however, are actively searching for the spiked punch that elijah recommended when you run into erin and matt talking. they both look to you with different expressions as you squeeze yourself by them to get to the punch bowl.

you remind yourself that erin is your friend, not your enemy. nor your competition. meaning you also have to remind yourself that matt is some guy you fuck around with, not your boyfriend.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in while grabbing a plastic cup and using a small ladle to pour the peach colored liquid for yourself. instead of flat-out staring at the two, you take turns looking from them to your cup. you watch as they pose for a picture; erin taking his hat to place on her own head and matt smiling next to her. and another with her kissing his cheek as he laughs.

it’s upsetting- no, humiliating to you. and how especially humiliating that your first thought is whether he’ll dismiss you for erin when you ask him to fuck you later tonight? you blame the weed for getting you so worked up over minutiae interactions.

you’re brought out of your daze in the most humbling of ways: a sudden splash hits your bare foot and covers your black kitten heels in the sticky juice. “fuck,” you groan and place the ladle back into the punch bowl, taking a large sip of your overflowing drink as you look down at the puddle of pink you’re standing in.

you find a towel laying nearby and lower yourself to fumble and wipe your shoe.

“damn y/n, you like my punch that much?” a voice asks from next to you.

you look up and see lucas smiling down at you, “you made it?” you ask genuinely as he helps you rise to standing again.

“no,” he smiles and you roll your eyes, “but im wondering how you managed to spill any with this itty bitty fucking ladle?” he jokes, lifting the ladle and watching it pour the small bit of juice it managed to gather back into the bowl.

“i just wasn’t paying attention,” you laugh and sip your drink again.

“mhm…why’s that?” he squints his eyes down at you.

you tap two of your french tip fingernails against your skull, “so much is happening up here.”

“like what?”

“i don’t knowww,” you smirk and look away to take another sip of your drink.

“well, i know you look sexy as fuck in this dress right now. look at you,” he wets his lips and offers his hand to you with a grin, showing off a few of his shining tooth gems.

you try to maintain your composure and not smile too big but it’s a challenge when he playfully gets you to spin slowly for him and show off the tiny strapless dress you have on as he “oouu”s and whistles to hype you up.

“mm, you like that?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.

he nods and chuckles, “you know damn well-” looking off to the side then gaining your eye contact once more as he wipes over his mouth with his hand, glancing over your body, “‘course i do.”

"good. we should dance then," you guide him to the living room with his hand still in yours.

౨ৎ

you hate to be the bitch on her phone at a party but you can’t stop staring at it. you tap past the story then go back to look again. you even rewatch it in the perspective of someone who hadn’t been there to see the photo taken to see how it would be perceived. hurting your own feelings knowing they could very well assume matt to be erin’s boyfriend with how close they’re standing and her lips against his face.

it’s very dizzying and ruining your high quite a bit, especially paired with andrea who continues to look to you to celebrate after every ping pong ball she throws whether she makes it or not.

you go to rewatch the story once more, only this time a text from matt slides down on your screen to interrupt your sulking:

MATT

Hey come here

Y/N

where???

MATT

Outside youll see me

you let andrea know you’re going outside for air before walking over to a glass sliding door to let yourself out.

you see matt holding a stick while looking down at his phone, fire pit radiating next to him, a mass of people surrounding it.

your arms wrap and hold onto your shoulders as you walk closer, feeling the breeze rack through your body despite the internal heat from the many drinks you've had over the course of the night.

as you approach, asha gets up from her spot on nick's lap to give you a hug, "y/n! hiii." she pulls away and her hands remain on your shoulders, "your cake was so delicious, i tried a bite of each."

"oh good, 'm glad." you smile.

she feels your hands, "are you cold, babe? come sit." she guides you over to the group of people sat around the fire. "you can take my spot, i'll stand," she insists and nick agrees smiling kindly.

you interrupt matt's texting to figure out why he wanted you here, cupping your hands to shout, "matt!" across the lawn from your spot atop nick.

he looks over and quips his head while moving closer, "hey, was just wonderin' if you'd try my s'more? nick thinks he makes them best." he smiles but you can't help but feel that there's a catch to this.

"always gotta prove someone wrong. yeah, i'll do it." you agree as he moves to grab the snack he'd apparently already prepared.

nick mutters, "don't let him bully you into liking his, and don't forget who's acting as your chair currently!" from behind you as you giggle into the bite that matt gives you, holding the smore in his hand up to your mouth.

you chew slowly and matt watches, chatter and crinkles of the fire filling the heated space. you finally nod your head and matt smirks, "so good, right?" matt asks and brings his hand to hold your face and wipe around the corner of your mouth, looking to his right with a smile then back to you.

you feel awkwardly and unnaturally sensual, moving his hand away from your face and searching for what he's looked over to, catching the eye of lucas, standing with a group of guys lighting up near a fence. so that is the fucking catch.

you lick your lips of any remaining marshmallow and shake your head, annoyed, "i don't know, it tastes normal and graham cracker is fucking stale." you look up at him and his face is adorned with confusion on your change of heart.

you feel too fucking weird about this. you wish you couldn't believe that he'd use your feelings towards him for some weird shit like claiming you from lucas, but it's not surprising in the slightest; matt wants his cake yet he'll always want to eat it too.

"yeah, nick wins." you pat the side of nick's thigh to grab his attention and tell him the news, making him cheer and bring you into his chest for a small hug.

matt's lips form the smallest pucker as he watches you get up and walk towards the house without further conversation.

"bye, y/n!" asha yells.

౨ৎ

matt lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling to try and organize his many thoughts when his door creaks slightly, allowing a roar of party chatter into his space before it shuts again.

he lifts only his head up to see erin stood with a small smile before letting himself fall back into his plush comforter, "hey, i got your shit in the first drawer over there." he points to a tall dresser across the room.

he listens to her shuffle around before finding a large bag of weed, coming close to him and placing a few folded bills in his front pocket slowly. she then moves so that she hovers over his dazed face, "thank you, are you sure you don't need anything else from me? it is your birthday..." she grins and runs a hand over his chest. he mimics her smile (intended in more of a mocking way than she takes it) and laughs softly.

"no, i'm good on that, e. you enjoy your doobies and shit," he continues to softly laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides before she thanks him again and gives him a small peck.

"happy birthday, matty!" she sings before closing the door to his room and heading straight to his bathroom next door to pee.

matt would say it hasn't even been four minutes since erin left him when you're stumbling into his room. he repeats his look up, only to soften a bit when he sees you make effort to move some of his shoes out of the walkway so that you don't trip, "hi, baby" he waves you over with his fingers and welcomes you as if you'll be staying for long, "lock that door for me." he figures if you came to see him after storming away like that at the fire pit you're either gonna spit your thoughts in his face or sit on his face, there's no in between.

"i found you," you smile and twist the smaller knob to lock the door from the rowdiness. you then make your way over to sit at the end of his bed and begin to fiddle with the straps on your tiny heels, "my feet have been achin' so bad," you look at him as you complain.

"mm, i'm sure."

when your feet are finally free from your shoes you place them on the ground and adjust yourself on the bed. you silently grimace seeing matt with his shoes remaining on his feet despite being on his bed.

he giggles when you begin to unlace them, "feel like a fuckin' princess."

you roll your eyes and begin to pull them off, "with the way you act you might as well be one."

"ouch? it's my birthday," he holds his heart while looking to you playfully.

you tilt your head and drop his second shoe right on the floor as you stare back at him, "oh, i know."

"right. what's wrong now?"

you run your hands along his legs as you inch up his body and hover yourself over his crotch, "nothing. everything's fine, right?" you adjust your hair away from your face.

"sure, uh huh," matt looks up at you and bites his lower lip while moving his hands to hold and squeeze your full thighs. he silently admires the way you fill that tiny dress and look down at him from this angle.

you look away for a moment then decide to put your full weight onto matt, muffled groan leaving his mouth. your lips curve up as you pull his bottom lip from his mouth with your thumb to replace it with your mouth, sucking and kissing it. your tongue runs over his lips a few times before matt takes hold of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to capture your mouth messily with his own.

the kiss is a filthy, drunken sight: noses meshing and colliding, tongues playing and licking, and moans escaping and ringing into the air desperately.

you pull away with a wet smack and whisper into his lips, "i've got another present for you..."

"mmm?" his eyes widen and he squeezes your neck gently, kissing you once more, "for real? like, more than this?!" his hand feathers over your ass, insinuating the way you're sat on top of him right now could easily be his best gift tonight.

"yes," you breathe then begin to giggle, "you're gonna lose your shit, i think."

his mind can think of a lot of things you could do to make him lose his shit, "damn, okay. well, show me. you got my stomach dancin' and shit." he holds you so that you stay put as he lifts himself to rest on his elbows.

your smile bites over your bottom lip now as you raise yourself from his lap once more. your nail taps against your upper thigh as you look down at him, "kiss, please?"

he doesn't have to move much, as your leg is already so close to his face. he keeps heated eye contact with you when he kisses and marks the skin you'd point to, causing small mindless noises to fall from your mouth as you play with his soft hair (that you unfortunately hadn't seen much of tonight).

when he's finished he looks up to you with his red, puffy eyes and wet lips as you thank him, "now...pay attention." you gently demand as you slowly move your dress up your body.

matt studies your movement in awe, eventually catching your gift in his line of sight. he knows you must think you're so sneaky when you only show a glimmer of your lacy white panties, with a cursive red "M" embroidered near the waistband, before quickly pushing your dress back down with an uncontrollable laugh.

matt's face morphs to express a million different emotions and he doesn't realize how loud his voice is when he speaks, "what the fuck?!" he looks up at you- with your head thrown back laughing -then back to your covered lower half. "what was that? hold the fuck on," you body is so loose with laughter that he easily grabs you and flips you onto the bed so that you lay underneath him, still squirming in your own giggles (yelling a few "matt!"s or "matt wait i can't breathe!"s).

his face is full of amusement when he firmly lifts your dress to get a better look at what you've done for him. "oh my god, 'm gonna pass the fuck out. look at you, sunny!" he rubs his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. "no, you're so bad."

"you like it?" you ask, licking over your lips and reaching your hands up to trace the small hairs prickling on matt's jawline.

"course i do, the fuck type of question is that?!" he turns his face to kiss your inner palm before bending closer to kiss your lips once more.

"happy birthday, matt." you say in between kisses, "there's somethin' else if you look a little more."

"really?" he immediately splits from you and looks to your panties once more, running his hands over your lower stomach. the cherry red joint laying against your hip and tucked into your underwear catches him by surprise but the stoner in him nearly cums on the spot.

he removes it from it's place and kisses you mumbling a reminder that "you're so hot" and "the marijuana bug must've bit you real bad" before he gets up to store it in his bedside table, patting the closed drawer and joking, "for when i miss you."

he stands above you for an extra second to shake his head slowly with a tut, but when you whine "c'mereee," he's hushing you and removing his shirt before crawling back on top of you.

your hands run across every inch of his warm torso as you both sloppily kiss, and matt's own hands curiously make their way into your underwear for a proper feel of your wet core.

he allows you to desperately grind your hips against his hand until he eventually decides he needs to taste you. he lowers himself to face your clothed pussy, tracing the "M" with a finger as he places his tongue flat against you and places pressure on your most sensitive area.

his finger once tracing, now moves to pull the tiny piece of fabric off of you. he looks into your eyes as he easily stuffs the cloth in his back pocket, mumbling "mine now" while moving his fingers through your sticky folds.

you cry out when he dips two fingers into you teasingly, over and over again, and another series of moans leaves your mouth when he begins to lick over your clit eagerly.

matt continues his efforts, spitting on your clit a few times to watch it drip down to where his fingers harshly move inside of you; his movements quickening while he watches.

and just before you cum you dumbly warn him, which makes him stop entirely. "no, matt. stop, please come back. please."

"shhh. don't start that shit, you'll cum twice on your day..." he unbuttons his pants, "plus, you know it feels so much better when you wait and have to chase it a few times." he smirks and nudges your clit with his finger once more making you breathe out a moan and close your legs around his hand.

he pulls away from you to finish undressing before laying back dowm in his tight boxers, "come take care of me, sunny. i need you."

"hm...and i needed you too..." you lift yourself up and pout as you climb off the bed and get closer to where he lies, turning and moving your hair away for your back, "unzip me, please?"

he does just as you say and watches you finish removing your dress in only one movement. when you climb on top of him he now gets a view of your tits directly in his face that has him humming and immediately feeling you up.

he kisses and licks the skin while you scratch at his scalp in the most sensual way. you reach behind you to dip your hand into his boxers, immediately coming in contact with his sensitive and slightly sticky tip. he tilts his head back with a groan as soon as you begin to stroke him beneath the fabric making a sinical smile form on your face.

you push the boxers further down his thighs to fully expose him as you bring your lips down to him again. his moans flow into your mouth when you repeatedly rush your movements then slowly circle his head.

eventually matt's eyebrows pinch in terribly tight and he grabs your hand, sighing, "god damn, baby. chill or i'll be cummin' before i'm inside you."

you roll your eyes playfully, "okay?" as you adjust yourself to align over his length, before sinking down on top of him.

"mmm, fuck." he encourages when you lift yourself and slam back down on top of him. you move his hands to hold your hips then spread your hands over his chest as you continue.

matt can't help but slap your ass a few times after discovering the way your muscles flutter around him so perfectly each time. but one smack in particular aids you to practically fall onto his chest whining, "matt i can't, please just-."

he immediately lifts your face to give him a much needed kiss before reaching to realign himself and hold onto you as he thrusts rhythmically into you.

moans sneak from your mouth and interrupt you from kissing and holding onto matt's neck, which only encourage matt until he's completely flustered and drilling into you sloppily.

matt can tell you're cumming by your all too and familiar broken moans. and once you harshly kiss him and ask him to let go in return he finally stills inside of you and groans into your soft shoulder.

a silence coats the room, leaving the overpowering music and talking of the party to linger through the air in a cloudy murmur.

matt keeps his arms around you while you recover from your high, staring at the ceiling of his faintly lit room in questionable thought.

and he assumes you must be doing the same; only he mistakes the wetness of your tears for his own sweat as you turn your head away from him to dissolve your embarrassingly shaky breaths.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list is in the replies ily!!!!

[dope-trope-105]

Enamoured by Strawberries

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The reader is Daeron's best friend, temporarily living at the Targaryen Manor. She's a frustrated little birdie and our Aegon has the perfect solution for her. But maybe, just maybe, I could make a second part with more than just smut.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

It had been a few months since you’d shifted to the Targaryen Manor. When Daeron told his mother that his best friend was about to go broke and end up homeless, Auntie Ali, as you liked to call her, almost forced you into her house. Since then, this place has been your home. 

One night, most of the Targaryen’s had gone for a court meeting about something they didn't disclose. You knew all the kids were asleep. Not being able to sleep till three am, you snuck into the kitchen, only wearing a tee, not bothering to put on clothes because who was gonna be out. So you tiptoed on the cold stone floors through the castle in your baby pink lace thong and Iron man sweatshirt. It was so loose and worn at the neck it hung off your shoulders, but you refused to get rid of it. You shivered in the castle's chill air. Lightly humming to Travis playing on your AirPods, you reached the kitchen. You found yourself snacking on the strawberries while leaning on the counter, slightly moving your hips to the song. Having had quite a few of them as you scrolled through some pictures of hot guys your girlfriends and you had sent on the group, sending voice notes ever so often on what was hot and what was not, you turned around to keep the box back, almost dropping all things in your hand as your eyes widened, mouth hanging open as you took in Aegon's smirking face, who stood on the opposite wall, leaning on a pillar with a beer bottle in his hands, wearing a tight white top and grey sweats. You ripped out the AirPods from your ears.

"Welcome back to the world of the hearing-abled," he said.

"How long have you been standing here?" you questioned, clearly panicked.

"It's the hands. If he didn't have veiny hands, I'd never give him a second look. But because he has veiny hands, I'm cumming just by looking at him," he imitated the first sentence you had spoken on your phone since coming here. Blood went straight to your face.

"That's so fucking creepy, Aegon," you said, voice low as you could hear the blood rush in your ears.

"You're one naughty girl, aren't you," he said, kicking off the wall as he walked closer to you. "Talking about guys almost like they're sex dolls," he said, shaking his head as he came much closer, you instinctively moving back as the exposed skin of your back hit the high marble countertop. "All about making you cum," he finished, hands leaning on both sides of you as he brought his face down to meet yours.

"Wha-what d-do you-," you couldn't even finish your sentence as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"What, can't you talk now? You had so much to say before," he said. "You know I'm not oblivious to your attention-seeking," he said.

You knew what he was talking about. You might have gone absolutely madly sexually repressed since you came here. You were eighteen for fuck's sake, had terrible sex, and only once, and read smut twenty-four/seven. Plus you were generally more horny, probably something to do with your diet. And you had taken to Aegon to relieve you, well not with his knowledge. He was on your mind as you worked your vibrator onto you, imagining him doing the vile things to you that you read. You'd get extra feminine near him, almost always being just slightly more touchy with him than others. You knew nobody noticed. But you were too enamoured fantasising by what he could do to notice what he could observe.

His finger slowly running up your thigh drove you back to him. You were sure you had the deer-in-the-headlights gaze at the direct confrontation and contact.

"You know your room is right next to mine? Imagine my surprise when I hear you at night, not laughing with Baela, not talking, but I hear my own name?" he said, finger hooked onto the waistband of your underwear.

"I-I d-don't know wha-what you're talking about," you said, mind going into overdrive at the lightest of contact. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face.

"It's some filthy shit you read, you know?" he said, smirk growing.

"You went through my laptop?" you asked, panicked.

"You shouldn't leave things like that open on your phone for anyone to pick up," he said, reminding you of the one time at dinner.

You were sitting next to Aegon, snug as a bug in the comfortable sofa-chair on the dining table, waiting for your food to come. You had been rudely interrupted whilst reading one of your favourite smuts, which was basically porn, to be called for dinner. You went, but took the smut with you on your phone, refusing to stop halfway. The food hadn't arrived, and you felt the urge to pee. You left your phone on the sofa that day, your breathing had obviously gotten slightly heavy, and unbeknownst to you, Aegon noticed.

"You look so pretty while sleeping, you know? Hair stuck to your face with sweat all over your body, wearing nothing but underwear," he said again. You only slept like that if you used your vibrator.

"I can do all that, you know?" he finally said, hand now gripping your hip.

"I can make you feel so good," he said, head dipping as he placed a small kiss on your neck, followed by another, then another, until he found himself not giving your skin a break from his mouth. He noticed how you reacted to him, littlest of touches on any part of your exposed skin had you twitching. He hadn't heard you in about a week, and you had been acting like a brat to everyone. He understood your pent up frustration, or more like deduced it. He didn't have to touch you to know you were dripping. Your eyes closed as you were breathing at a mile a minute. Not a sound had come out of you. Aegon knew you needed time to get comfortable.

"Come on," he finally said, grabbing your hand as he walked to his room. Three minutes of complete silence between you guys as you finally took in every word he said. He opened his door, standing to the side as he let you in first. You walked in, seeing his room for the first time. It was dark, green walls, ebony furniture, gaming setup, creamy white sheets, slightly messy, and it smelled overwhelmingly like him. It was intoxicating. "Like what you see?" he said, and you looked back at him, having completely forgotten what you were wearing, or rather, what you weren't.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, walking closer to you. You nodded.

"You've been very bratty this week. You're pretty much a brat all the time, but this last week, You've managed to snap at everyone. I think I know why," he said, hands wrapping loosely on your waist as he looked into your eyes.

"Vibrator just not doing it anymore, is it?" he asked, a mock look of pity in his own eyes,

"You want to be touched now," one of his hands making smooth circles on your side, "You want to feel someone, hear someone speak to you as he fucks you stupid," he finished. "Just say the word," he said. "What do you want baby, I'll do it," he said, cooing. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked, head coming very close to you. Your breath mixed with his, your noses touched as your eyes closed breathing in his scent. "I'll do whatever you want tonight," he said.

And you couldn't wait anymore, pulling his neck to yours as you attached your lips to his. It was a smooth kiss, his lips soft, his breath cold. He tasted like beer. He pulled you abnormally close to him, one arm holding you to his own body as the other went to your ass. He gripped it hard, and softly kneaded it as you sighed in satisfaction.

You were already losing it. His thumb caressed your skin, but his hold was harsh. His lips were soft, but his tongue was rough. It almost made you think he wanted you. His tongue dragged across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to him, letting him know you weren't going to offer any sort of resistance whatsoever. Even if for one night, you were all his, he could do whatever he wanted. Your head was a mess, wondering if you wanted him only sexually or whether you actually wanted him. For the longest time, he kept kissing you, not doing anything else. It made you needy but it also made you happy, that he wasn't willing to jump straight to the deed, get himself off and be done with it. Guys like that were terrible, you were speaking from experience.

But enough was enough, you wanted more. He wasn't wrong, you hadn't had the pleasure of being alone for long enough, uni was exhausting and you were just done with self-satisfaction, it always ended in anger with you. But finally, to your complete glee, he dragged his hands away from your waist, down to your sides as he held onto the back of your thighs. You understood, jumping as he rested your legs onto his hips, and he walked back to his love seat, a large bubbly cream chair, which was more like a single bed. He didn't detach your lips from him even once as he sat, until his back leaned against the chair and he finally pulled back. His eyes were dark, his gaze almost hazy, like he was drunk but you knew he wasn't, his actions were too sharp for it.

His hands then moved to your ass, slowly moving you on top of his hard-on as he watched you. The contact sent a bolt of electricity through your body, a soft moan escaping your lips. As he moved you, your mind directly went to how he manhandled you, moving you without any effort, and it only made you hornier. "Aegon I-" he didn't let you finish kissing your neck, but this time you weren't silent. Moans escaped your mouth like never before, like they were falling off your tongue. You had barely grinded on him but it was better than any vibrator session of yours. "Aegon please," you said. He knew exactly what you wanted. His hands left your hips, but that didn't stop you from moving at the rhythm he set. His fingers brushed your waistband, one pulling at it slightly, but he was going so slow. Did he want a puddle on his pants? "What do you want, baby?" he asked, the words going straight to your core. "Just touch me," you sighed, the movement not nearly enough to satiate your ever growing desires. He tapped your thigh, "get on my bed," he said.

Unwillingly, you got off him and sat on his bed, moments later he was on top of you, crawling almost like a predator. And he kissed your shoulder, slowly moving down your chest as far as the neckline would let him. You groaned in frustration. "Someone's impatient," he chuckled, tugging at your top. "You're killing me," you said, the whine evident in your voice, you'd cry if he waited any longer. "Alright, princess," he said, hands taking off your panties in one sweep, the cool air hitting you. He went back down until his head rested between your legs which he split away with his hands, eyes gleaming as he looked at you. He looked up at you, looking like he was salivating. "Is this what you want?" he asked. You nodded almost feverishly, face red with embarrassment. "She's dripping for me, is she not," he asked, kissing the inside of your thighs as he inched closer and closer. The frustration making your eyes cloud with tears. "Aegon please stop teasing me," you said. "So damn demanding, I guess I should've seen that coming," he said.

"But I guess you deserve to be so, look at you, so fucking perfect," he said as he finally let his tongue make contact with your centre. You gasped at the sensation, your hips jerking. "There we go," he said, throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he put a death grip on your hips, his tongue swirling around your clit, making you squirm. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, hands flying to grip his hair as slight mewls came from your mouth. But when he started to fuck you with his tongue, your mewls turned to moans. His name fell from your mouth attached to words of appreciation, heat coating you so fiercely you thought you were burning.

Your orgasm came to you out of nowhere, you felt out of this world, the knot in your stomach splitting, fire in your veins as you screamed his name, back arching as you saw stars, your thighs shaking, but he didn't stop one moment, eating you out through your high, only stopping when you fell back into the bed. Breathing so erratic. You looked down from your heavy lidded eyes to Aegon, who licked up the remnants of your orgasm like a dog. You felt so lightheaded as giggles fell from your mouth, his eyes catching yours, he looked so amused. "Someone's happy," he said, crawling back up as he rested on you, arms on either side of you as he smiled down at you. He wiped a tear from your face with his thumb.

Your giggles finally stopped as you looked at him. "How are you so good at that?" you asked, still breathless. "Practise," he said, running a finger up your torso to the t-shirt stuck to you from sweat. You felt a trail of goosebumps he left in wake from his touch. "You're so beautiful," he said, heat pooling into your centre at his words. You thought you'd be completely passed out from one orgasm, but the way he was making you feel made your body have other plans. "You're going to be all mine," he said, flipping you both so now he was semi horizontal and you straddled him. He took off your top, you willingly lifting your arms like the obedient girl you were for him. His eyes shining with mischief as he eyed your tits. "You've got to be kidding me, I should've taken this off sooner," he said, hands kneading both as he pulled you towards him, mouth on your chest in no time as he sucked on one while kneaded the other, and you began grinding against him. "No more time for teasing, princess," he said, patting your thigh as you got off him and he took off his pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, pre-cum coating his enlarged tip. You wondered if he'd get bruised if he waited any longer.

"You can blow me some other time, I don't think I have any more patience," he said, grabbing his own dick as he swirled the precum onto his tip, giving a few pumps before signalling you back with two fingers. Something you'd normally perceive as disrespectful but today, only made him hotter, and you climbed on top of him. Your hand replaced his as you guided him to your entrance. When his tip touched you, you wanted to cry out in satisfaction. "We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow," you said. "I'll buy you a fucking hospital, just let me fuck you right now," he said, your eyes shooting up to him. You might have teased him, but the lack of self control on you was much stronger than his impatience could ever be, and you slowly sunk onto him, and he watched your face contort in pain.

His hands rubbed your sides comfortingly. "It'll be okay, baby, just a little bit longer," he said, and you rested yourself onto him, forehead coming into contact with him as you felt him stretch your walls.

His touch on your side felt good, and you focused on that as you slowly moved, a new feeling replacing the pain bit by bit. He flipped you around again, his weight partially on you and partially on his arm as he brought up the other, he held your face to his. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, you shook your head. He moved very slow, but still, it felt good. And he kept moving, and the more he moved, the better it felt. "Faster Aegon," you said, voice barely audible as you felt something completely different for the first time. This really was nothing like the first guy. And then Aegon almost pulled out, making your eyebrows knit in confusion, but then he slammed back into you, your head falling back as you gasped. And he did it over and over again, getting faster as he watched you. Your hips moved in sync with his, your head thrown back as he felt your nails on his shoulder blade, one hand on his neck.

He lifted one leg of yours over his hip and began going at a fast, constant pace. Your gasps turned to moans, moans to screams as he got faster, and had you screaming "harder Aegon, harder," in no time. And harder he got. You were a mess by the time Aegon felt himself close. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," you were frantic, his movement emptying your thoughts completely. "Cum for me baby," he said, and you did, harder than ever before, he fucked you through your orgasm, spilling into you in no time, feeling your walls clench around him. He collapsed over you, breathing heavily as you did the same.

"Holy fuck, that's the best sex I've had in ages," he said, something about it being you making it different. He's fucked lots of girls, lots of firsts, and he did take care to be gentle, but never this gentle. It was different with you. He looked up at you, but you'd passed out, presumably too much for you. He smiled. Sweat coated you, and he could hear your heartbeat. He stayed like that for a minute or so before deciding to get more comfortable. He went to the bathroom, wetting a towel and coming back to the room. He cleaned your thighs, you jerked at the contact, but he continued. Once he reached your centre, you gasped, but remained asleep. He threw away the towel, climbing back into the bed. You slightly turned away as he pulled the comforter over you both, coming closer to you. The moment his skin touched yours, you sighed, moving closer to him. He let you rest your head on his arm, you moved your ass to perfectly fit into his touch, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you, still not finding sleep, but he did feel comfort. Your hair smelled sweet, you smelled sweet. Your body was made for him, he realised that the moment you leaned into his touch on that counter. He remembered the hint of strawberry on your tongue. You engulfed his thoughts and the more he thought of you, the heavier his eyes got. He passed out soon.

Aegon was a deep sleeper, but he woke up before you. Your back was to his chest, and he ran his fingers over your figure. He lifted himself up on his elbows, his movements making you turn and lie flat, face slightly towards him. His eyes went over your face, down to the marks he left on your neck, your chest, and down to your stomach where the sheets covered you. He felt himself getting hard as his fingers played with your breasts.

He found himself ripping away the sheets and lying on top of you, taking your tit into his mouth as he played with the other. You sighed. His mouth inched upwards. He lifted his head again as you opened your eyes. "What are you doing," you chuckled.

There was a raspiness in your voice that made his blood rush down to his cock even faster. "Enjoying nature’s gifts," he shrugged, moving slightly so you could sit up. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked around the room, grabbing the bottle of water. "This is so much better than waking up to Daeron’s crass screaming," you said, and he chuckled. He lifted himself up, connecting his lips with yours as you kissed back. "I haven't even brushed my teeth yet," you said laughing as you slightly pushed at his chest. "Let me enjoy the fruits of my labour," he shrugged, smiling at you. "What is that supposed to mean," you said, mirroring his expression. "It means you didn't even say good night," he said. "Well good morning," you retorted, letting out a slight squeal as he pulled you down.

"Good morning, princess," he said, connecting your lips again as his hand went between your legs. You moaned into his mouth at the contact. "Any special demands today?" he asked. You blushed. "I love it when you get shy," he said, removing his hands from you as he positioned himself aligned up with your entrance as he pushed himself in, the both of you moaning at the contact. There was no pain today, only pleasure as he started thrusting himself into you, lips coming up to kiss you so you didn't wake the whole house. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned his name into his mouth. It might've changed something in him because he got a lot harder, and suddenly, you gasped as he hit your sweet spot. He must've sensed it.

"Did you like that?" he asked, hitting the spot again and again as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten tremendously. "Oh god Aegon, please," you moaned. "Wait for me baby, wait for me," he said, feeling himself getting sloppier. "I can't hold on anymore," you said, tears building up into your eyes. "Come on then princess, cum for me," he said, biting your lower lip as you let go, feeling him spill inside you again. He fell on you as you were both panting. "Did you pass out again," he said. "No, I'm right here," you said as he looked up at you. Your fingers found themselves in his soft hair as you both looked at each other until you heard Joffrey running as he screamed "mommy" outside Aegon's door. Your eyes widened.

"Fuck, Rhaenyra's here" you whispered. "So?" he shrugged, eyebrows knit in confusion. "What if she finds us, more importantly, what if Auntie Ali finds us," you questioned. "They won't, even if they heard anyone, they'd just assume it was some one night stand, not you," he said. You liked how he excluded you from being a one night stand, but there were more important matters at hand. "Yeah but what happens when they don't find miss-sleeps-till-noon in her room at-'' you looked around, tapping his phone screen to check the time, "oh, well it's noon, no issue then I guess, I'll just sneak into my bathroom," you shrugged.

You almost screamed when there was a knock on Aegon's door. "Are you decent, Aegon?" came Alicent's voice. Your hands flew to your mouth, Aegon however seemed completely relaxed as he rested his face in your tits. "No mother," he simply said. "Well get down soon, everyone's here," she said as you heard her walking away.

Aegon began kissing your tits again, but you stopped him. "No, we need to get back now," you said. "They're gonna take like half an hour to settle down so you can sneak into your room, we can have our fun till then," he said, hands on your waist.

"No Aegon, please," you said, pleading eyes enough to make Aegon agree. He got up from you as you grabbed your sweatshirt discarded on the floor and put it on before looking for your underwear. "Looking for this," he said, holding up your panties with one finger as he sat back on his bed. Your face flushed as you snatched it away before putting it on, Aegon's gaze not leaving you once. You put your hair behind your fingers as your face scrunched up. "There's cum all over me," you frowned. "You didn't let me clean you up like last night," he shrugged. You smiled at him, sitting back on his bed next to him as you grabbed his face, kissing him again. "At least you didn't leave any marks," you said. But his amused face made you freeze. "You-you didn't, right?" you asked again. "Depends, what exactly do you mean by marks," he shrugged. You shot up, almost running to the large mirror that stood at one corner of the room.

You gasped, at your reflection, other than your messy hair and swollen lips, there was a trail of marks, at least two or three on your neck. You stretched your top down to see a few scattered over your breasts. You stuttered. "Aegon I-" you looked at him. "What am I gonna do?" you asked, eyes wide. He shrugged. You hit his shoulder as you'd walked back to him, but he only laughed at you as you sat. "Shut the fuck up," you scowled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it the next time," he said, leaning back onto his bed. You smiled at his words as you went back to sit on top of him.

"I thought we couldn't have fun," he quipped. "Oh shit you're right," you said, remembering your own words as you started to get off him, looking up at him again as he tightly held you in place. "You can't play with people like that, baby," he said, hands kneading your ass again. "I'm being for real Aegon, my stamina is nowhere near yours," you said, putting your arms around his neck again. "What the fuck are you running circles around the castle for every morning then?" he said, trying to catch your lips in his as you moved back slightly. "That's different, Aegon," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh really?" he said, mocking you. "Shut up," you said, letting him kiss you at his second attempt. "We gotta do this every day, I've got some fun positions to show you," he exclaimed. "Are you crazy, we can't do this everyday," you said, laughing at him. "Well how much time do you want in between every single best night of your life?" he questioned, you looked down as you blushed. "A week?" you questioned. "Are you crazy?" He imitated you.

You kissed him again. "I bet you one orgasm, you won't last three days," he quipped. "Wow ok, mr. gambling man," you said, accepting his deal nonetheless. "Hey, if you win, you get an extra orgasm, if you lose, you get an extra orgasm," he said, shrugging. You laughed, "wow that's some gambling skills right there, I think I just swooned," you said. "Oh I'll make you swoon," he said, flipping you guys around. "I was being serious, Aegon," you said.

[pennylanewrites]

lipgloss [rafe cameron]

now playing: i was never there - the weeknd

tags: f!reader, pogue!reader, drug use (weed & coke), oral fixation, reader has tattoos, they’re just making out nothing crazy

it wasn’t uncommon for kooks to show up to the cut, especially for a party like this. it was uncommon, though, for rafe cameron to eye you like that all night. rafe had shamelessly stared you up and down while you were dancing, watched you apply your lipgloss in a hand mirror, walked over with an arrogant grin when you sat alone around the bonfire.

you sunk down on the lawn chair, sipping on a cold beer and scrolling on your phone.

“sup?” rafe sat on the tree stump next to you, his beer spilling on your legs. you wiped it off and faced the other way.

“not in the mood, rafe.” any conversation you ever had with him always ended in screaming or someone getting punched. you really wished you could last a party with out any of that.

“say, you-” you cut rafe off by getting up to leave, only hearing him mutter ‘bitch’ as he watched you go. you knew he was going to run after you.

you went into the house and got another beer from the fridge, cracking it open on your way to the backyard. the music was still loud, but not too crazy, so you sat on the porch steps and took a tin box out of your bag.

“thank you, jj.” you muttered, lighting up the front of the rolled cigarette. the heavy, bitter taste filled your mouth as you inhaled, and clouded the air when you exhaled.

you were starting to relax, your head feeling heavy as you let it fall back, only for a loud crack to startle you.

“my bad…” someone muttered, emerging from the dark side porch. you watched a foot swipe broken glass under a chair, before they walked towards you.

“your curfew’s not over yet?” you watched rafe stumble before finally taking the seat next to you. rafe’s eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown like big, obsidian marbles.

“what’s that?” he ignored your sarcasm, index finger poking the side of your ankle. he wrapped his fingers around the dainty, gold anklet, pulling it up so he could see the ink on your skin. “save the turtles.” he chuckled at his own joke.

“it’s just a turtle.”

“what, you use metal straws and everything?” he kept chuckling and a smile threatened to escape your lips as you took another hit from the joint.

rafe stared, intrigued, at the glossy remnants on the cigarette’s end, and back at your own lips, the same glossy substance spread on them.

you assumed he was looking at the joint, so you offered it to him. he gladly accepted, fingers shaking slightly as they crossed with yours. you leaned back, elbows resting on the top step and sighed. your eyes shot up at rafe’s dark ones when he tugged on your waistband.

“p4l?” you both looked down at the small letters by your hip. you didn’t shake his hand off.

“pogues for life.” you chuckled when he groaned.

“what other tattoos do you have?” he passed the cigarette to you, leaving it between your lips, coating his fingers with your lipgloss.

you shook the arm of your flannel off, showing him the small tattoos on your arm with little explanation.

“and…”

“and?” he looked curious. you turned your body to face him and brought your pinky fingers to your bottom lip. grinning, you pulled it down to show off skinny ink lines, healed into the pink skin. rafe leaned closer but you were quick to pull away.

“wait, what does it say?” he cupped your jaw, making you face him again. you just shrugged, flashing him a smile as his grip on your jaw tightened, two of his fingers pressing on your neck.

he brought his other hand up, thumb pulling your pouted lip down, lipgloss smearing on your chin.

“why not?” he read out the words. your eyes were glossed over, inviting him. you opened your mouth slightly, his thumb pushing against your tongue now.

he pulled away with a grin, shaking his head side to side. rafe searched in his polo shirt’s pocket, fishing out a small, white baggie and a hundred note.

you looked at the way his hands worked silently. he used a key to take some of the white powder out, his eyes shooting around for a surface. you rubbed your thigh against his, a gasp coming from your mouth when his fingers wrapped around it. his stupidly big, gold ring was cold against your skin as he sprinkled the white powder in a clean, straight line. his other hand rubbed circles on your calf as he snorted the line through the money bill.

rafe looked up at you, sniffing, before coming down, lips hovering over your thigh. he kissed the remnants of the white powder away before finally sitting up.

“you’ve got something…” he muttered, thumb brushing your chin, cleaning up the gloss he messed up earlier. rafe leaned closer, lips hovering over yours before catching your bottom one between his teeth.

you were the one who finally kissed him, painstakingly slow. his hand snaked to the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

your lips were sticky against his, the strawberry taste overpowering the bitter one that alcohol left on your tongue. rafe sucked on your bottom lip, teeth barely grazing against it as he pulled apart. he admired his creation, sticky pink lipgloss all over your chin and kiss-bitten, swollen lips.

he kissed you again, groaning against you when you dragged his bottom lip with your teeth. it was so addicting, the way your fingers played in his hair, how you placed your legs over his lap to shift closer.

“you’ve got something.” you repeated his words from before, teasingly, and tugged on his bottom lip with your thumb.

“seems like you made a mess.” he mumbled, kissing the tip of your thumb before circling his tongue around it.

“seems like it.” and just like that, you were off him, getting up the stairs to leave. you knew you were leaving him frustrated and an annoying boner to deal with.

his fingers fell on his mouth, still tainted with the taste of your lipgloss. you waved goodbye over your shoulder before he could protest, and walked back inside the house. you knew he would run after you again.

[thoseboysinblue]

Midnight

Christian Pulisic x reader

You and Christian find yourselves hosting a New Year’s Eve party for your closest friends.

Word count: 2500+

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Smut, fluff

New Year's Eve, the night Chelsea typically held their annual charity gala. It was an excellent excuse to get dressed up, spend an evening with friends and eventually end up at someone's house for an after party.

Early in December, Christian had surprised you by having his stylist bring over a selection of designer gowns for you to choose from, all of which complemented the suit he was planning to wear.

"I can't, Christian, it's too much" you'd protested.

"It's not, please let me spoil you like I want to, baby, consider it a Christmas gift" he grinned at you.

"Fine, but nothing else, got it?" you'd given into him, unable to deny him anything when he flashed that dimple at you along with those honey colored eyes.

"Sure, sure" he held his hands up feigning innocence even though he knew he had a stack of overly extravagant gifts for you already hidden.

The evening of the gala had arrived, you and Christian getting ready separately with the help of his stylist and a hair and makeup team he'd also surprised you with.

When you step into his foyer, the sound of your heels on the marble tile catching his attention, his stylist made one final adjustment to his suit before turning to smile at you and muttering a "I'll leave you two alone" patting him on the shoulder as she disappeared to begin packing up her things.

"You look, wow" was all he could manage to get out as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

"God only knows what you've paid for this make up, Chris, don't ruin it before we get out the door" you chuckled at him as he moved to kiss down your exposed neck and shoulders.

"I'll pay them double to fix it" he whispers along your collar bone as you tilt your head back letting out a faint moan.

As his kisses trail back up to your lips, you place one more, delicate kiss to his lips, resting your forehead against his and placing your hands over his chest, "What about you, Christian? You look.." your words cut off as you bite your lip taking a step back to look him up and down again.

He blushes slightly under your attentive gaze. "It's gonna be hard for me to keep my hands off of you all night," you whisper against his lips, kissing him softly again until you hear his stylist clear her throat behind you.

You both turn to face her, Christian wrapping a hand around your waist. "You've outdone yourself tonight," he smiles at her, pulling you into him a little closer and giving your hip a squeeze.

"Just as you asked" she hands him a red leather box, you instantly recognized it as matching the box to the Cartier bracelet and drop earrings he'd given you for Christmas which you were now wearing.

"Christian, I thought we'd discussed this" you look at him shaking your head. "No, it's too much," you once again protested but knew it was another battle you would lose.

"We did discuss it, but you know I'm not the best at listening sometimes" he winks at you.

"And what if I refuse?"

"You won't" he says, just above a whisper, turning you around to slip the dainty necklace around your neck.

"I might" you quip, your voice a bit shaky.

"You won't" he whispers again, placing a kiss to the nape of your neck once he was finished with the clasp.

He knows you aren't a big fan of extravagance, and that you really only wear jewelry on special occasions such as tonight, but he was determined to gift you with a few timeless and elegant pieces he knew you could wear with anything from jeans and a simple shirt to elegant gowns like tonight. And you knew, once he had his mind set on something, there was little use in arguing with him.

"You know I don't need all this from you?" you turn around, motioning with your hand down your body. 

"I know, but you spoil me every single day, y/n, and I just want to do the same for you" he says with a shy smile.

"I appreciate it, I really do, but you know I don't expect these things from you, I just want you to be happy, Chris."

"And what if spoiling you makes me happy?" He slides his hands back around your waist pulling you into him.

"Then I guess, I'll have to get used to it," you smile, bumping your nose against his and placing a feather light kiss to his lips.

His stylist takes several photos of the two of you, adding any final touches you might need before you hop into the car Christian has arranged for the evening.

You enjoy the gala, happily sipping on glasses of wine as you and Sophia chat the night away, her complimenting the German that she, Kai, and Christian have been helping you to learn.

The two of you end up drunkenly bidding on a trip before announcing to the boys that they are not invited to join you.

Kai mutters something to Christian in German, "I heard that, and almost understood it" you quip.

"See, CP, I told you teaching her was a bad idea," they both laugh.

The entire evening, you and Christian haven't stopped touching one another. Nothing over the top, but a constant hand on each other's thigh, his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, fingers intertwined, or a hand placed softly on the small of your back.

Your dress had a mostly open back, so anytime Christian's hand was around you he found himself softly drawing circles on your exposed skin with his thumb.

As the gala comes to an end, Mason leans across the table and whisper shouts, "so after party at yours right, CP?" to which Christian nods.

Thankfully this wasn't a shock to you and when you arrived back at yours and Christian's home, you began sitting out the snacks and drinks you'd prepared earlier in the day.

As you are pulling out chilled bottles of champagne for a midnight toast, you hear the rest of the group arrive. Unsurprisingly most of the Chelsea team have come, with and without dates, preparing to ring in the New Year together.

Mason immediately syncs his phone to the speakers that run through the entire house "to avoid having to listen to Christian's horrible taste in music" he winks at you, to which you only shake your head.

As the time approached midnight, the girls seemed to be getting tipsier and tipsier while the boys, in mid season, are being relatively tame. However, everyone had shed their jackets and ties by this point, Christian's tie tied lazily around your neck, Mason and a few others had theirs wrapped around their heads like ninjas.

You'd managed to pull Christian onto the makeshift dance floor in your living room more than a few times, neither of you able to keep your hands off of each other. He'd unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves, exposing just enough skin to drive you mad.

As you were dancing, you slipped your finger between two of the buttons, using it to pull him closer to you as he dipped his head and groaned into your neck. "You are killing me, baby" he mumbles into your ear as you turn around to grind your ass against him, throwing one arm up and around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

"It's almost midnight, can't miss our New Year's kiss," you smile at him, turning back around to face him while still grinding your body against his and he drops one hand to grab at your ass, clearly no longer caring if anyone is watching the two of you.

As everyone starts counting down the last twenty seconds or so before midnight. You find yourselves completely lost in each other. Someone hands both of you glasses of champagne which you absentmindedly take, neither of you breaking your gaze.

At five, Christian mutters "fuck it" and presses his lips to yours, you giggle and return the kiss, gripping into the back of his hair and pulling him in to deepen the kiss. He moans into your mouth as he presses his semi hard bulge into you.

You pull away from him slightly as you hear everyone around you cheer, and mutter against his lips "Happy New Year, baby, I love you" pressing another kiss to them. "I love you too, y/n, so damn much" he smiles at you, giving you another loving kiss.

You look around the room at the people you are surrounded with, in awe of a life you never dreamed of living, with a man you knew was made especially for you.

You make your rounds toasting your champagne glasses with everyone and wishing them a Happy New Year before Christian whispers into your ear to meet him upstairs in 5 minutes. You nod to acknowledge what he's told you, without giving away the fact that it made your stomach flip and heat flood your core.

You notice when Christian slips upstairs, continuing to talk to a few of the others before you make sure you can also slip away, hopefully unnoticed, in search of him.

As you make your way up the stairs, you are met with a pair of hands that pull you quickly into your bedroom, pressing you against the door in one swift move as he locks it and attaches his lips to your neck.

"Been waiting all fucking night to do this" he moans against your neck as he feels your hand graze over his hardened length.

"I've got a surprise for you too," you whisper, "but if I show it to you, you have to promise to help me get this dress back on" you give him a wicked smile as you turn for him to pull down the zipper of your dress.

You turn back around, shoving him towards the bed as you let the gown fall to your feet. His eyes widen at the sight of you, stood in front of him in a black lace corset style backless lingerie set with black lace thong.

"Fuck me" he whispers as you edge your way towards him.

"That's my plan" you stare at him hungrily. "But we have to be quick, and quiet, we have guests you know"

He nods slowly as you move to straddle him. Both of you working in unison to finish unbuttoning his shirt and quickly working to rid him of his pants.

"The top has to stay on" you mutter, "I have no idea how your stylist got me into this thing and I'm certain it will take both of us to figure it out later" you giggle against his chest.

"Fine by me" he says with a wink. He flips both of you over, pressing you into the mattress as he quickly pulls your thong down your legs and tosses it to the side, doing the same with his boxers.

He leans down to kiss you feverishly as he uses one hand to line himself up with your entrance, running the tip of his cock through your already dripping folds.

"Didn't take much" he whispers to you as you shake your head.

"Just shut up and fuck me Christian" you mutter as you buck your hips up towards him, lacing your fingers into his hair.

"So needy" he groans as he pushes into you with one long and slow thrust.

You let out a moan as he begins to pick up the pace and catch a glimpse of his tattooed arm as he circles his hand lightly around your throat.

"Shhh, baby" he says as he buries his head into your neck in an attempt to muffle his own noises.

"Can you be quiet?" He asks as he loosens his hold on your neck when you nod.

You throw your own hand over your mouth as he slips his hand between your bodies to rub circles over your clit.

"You gonna cum for me?" he says as he feels you clench around him.

You nod furiously, afraid that anything you try to say will come out as a loud moan.

"Shit, me too" he pants, biting his lip to suppress a moan as your back arches off of the bed and you cum hard around him.

He throws a few more thrusts into you before pulling out and spilling himself all over your pussy and thighs.

"Jesus Christ" he sighs breathily as he collapses onto the bed beside you both of you trying to catch your breath. He then gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom, slipping his boxers back on in the process.

"Why'd you pull out, you never do that" you question him.

"Couldn't exactly send you back downstairs with my cum dripping out of you could I?" he grins at you.

"Such a gentleman" you laugh as he finishes cleaning you up.

"Also, if I have to sit around and talk to people knowing my cum is running down your legs, I'll go fucking mad" he flashes you a much darker smile.

"There he is, the man of my dreams" you giggle again as you grab your thong and slip it back on, picking your dress up off the floor and stepping back into it and gliding it back over your frame.

Christian makes quick work of zipping you back up before you dip into the bathroom to check your hair and makeup to make sure it's not too messed up before you return to your guests.

When you walk back out of the bathroom he's dressed and standing by the door waiting for you. He's left an extra button undone and his hair is definitely a bit more disheveled. He holds his hand out to you pulling you into his chest. "I think we managed the quick part, not sure about the quiet part though" he mumbles against your forehead.

"Well I'm certain we weren't that sneaky, and I'm sure they all know where we've gone" you lean back to look him in the eyes before pressing another kiss to his lips as he shrugs.

Sure enough as you make your way back downstairs and rejoin your group of friends, you hear Mason say "let's give a round of applause to our hosts for this evening" grinning at the two of you "who apparently couldn't even wait for us all to leave to ring in their new year judging by the way they snuck off and Christian's hair."

Christian buries his face into your neck and you hide your face in your hands as he pulls you in closer to him.

"That was just round one" he laughs back to them, grabbing you and kissing you to the cheers and cat calls from his best friends.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part five - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: Bullying

Michael has a lot of stuff. A lot of heavy stuff. Despite him assuring her that he can move it all in on his own, she still wants to help.

It would be kind of a dick move if she didn’t assist with all of this. An hour in, and the apartment is already transformed from bland and empty into a hoard of pastel rainbow decor and soft white staple pieces.

She takes a break to admire the painting of a fluffy white angel cat over watercolor Van Gogh scenery. Michael comes through the door, panting, with his White Cottage microwave in tow.

“Who painted this?” She asks him.

He smiles, blushes, puts the microwave down and then his hand on his hips. “I did.”

Her eyes grow wide. “This is amazing.”

He chuckles. “Thank you.”

She likes Michael a lot already, but she’s also very jealous of him and his many talents and cool possessions. He makes her want to decorate and be creative, both skills she’s never been able to possess correctly.

She hasn’t gotten the key made yet, so she goes out and does that while he starts unpacking his things. By the time she’s done, her apartment looks astonishing. Fairy lights twinkle over gauze white curtains and a big speaker plays soft hiphop music in one corner of the living room. Her couch is full of comfy white and grey fluffy throw pillows. An incense burner releases gourmand, smoky aroma into the air.

Michael is stretched out on the couch, taking a break, watching Legally Blonde on DVD. Her small TV is now in her room and his bigger flatscreen dwarfs the stand that it was on.

She sits down beside him with two glasses of water. Before she can set hers down on the coffee table, he stops her. “Wait! Coasters!”

He digs through two boxes of stuff before he finds new marble coasters for them to set their drinks on.

She laughs at him and he grins back. “I know, I know,” he tells her, “typical trust fund kid BS.”

“You’re fine,” she says. “I was laughing at the coasters because the table is already a mess.”

“Listen,” he says, “this table just needs some tee ell cee. A sander and some paint would do her wonders.” He pats the wooden top.

“Can I help?” She asks, excited and jumping at the opportunity a little too eagerly.

“Of course you can,” he assures.

She remembers him telling her that his mother is an artist. “Did your mom teach you to paint?”

He nods. “She also taught me how to make miniatures. You know, like dollhouses but for adults?”

“That’s amazing. Do you trade art with her?”

“I do,” he says, “we send things back and forth in the mail. Although my dad says it ‘clogs up their post office box’.”

“He’s not a fan of art?”

Michael snorts. “He hates everything except golf. Sometimes I think he hates me.”

She shakes her head. “Does he really hate you? You’re the perfect son.”

Michael sighs. “No, but he hates gay people, so it’s close enough. When I first came out to him, if my mother wouldn’t have been there, he would’ve probably shot me. He’s a real man’s man if you know what I mean...”

She nods, smiling ruefully. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”

Michael thinks for a moment. “We should get a dog.”

“I would love that, but it’s no pets here.”

He raises his eyebrows and sips at his water. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

They decide it has to be a quiet dog, one who’s comfortable being alone at night, and there are an abundance of local shelters displaying perfect furry candidates online.

“Rocky. Pitbull mix. Potty trained, good with kids and other pets, sweet and loves everyone.” She shows Michael a picture of a medium sized black, stout dog with shiny grey eyes.

Michael shows her his own selection, a retired service beagle named Winnie. “Short for Winnifred,” he reads, “loves people and other pets, very polite, and hardly ever barks.”

“I love them both,” she groans, leaning back into the couch cushions.

“Same,” Michael sighs. “It’s one in the afternoon. Do you work tonight?”

“Yup.” She presses an arm over her face, blocking out the ceiling light.

“Don’t you have to sleep?” He asks.

She’s not tired at all because she slept through the night—wet dreams work wonders on insomnia—but she agrees because Michael sounds like he needs some alone time. Plus, her DVDs and TV are in her room now, and if she can’t sleep she can watch an old, comfortable flick.

The problem isn’t getting to sleep, it’s staying there—waking up sweating, gasping, whining John’s name. She slaps her mouth shut, presses her face into her pillow, and prays to any deity listening that her voice wasn’t loud enough for Michael to hear. First day in the new place and his roommate is a fiend. It would make any sane person want to revoke their rental agreement immediately.

She should be embarrassed and anxious that Michael potentially heard her, but instead she’s grinding against her sheets and thinking of tall men handcuffed to beds.

This won’t work. This isn’t working. She’s so pent up that it’s borderline painful. She sticks her hand into her sleep pants, past her underwear, and into a sloppy mess, tries to think about anything but John while she rubs herself raw, but in doing so her brain latches onto the thought of him and pretty soon he’s the only thing on her mind.

She tries to paint a decent fantasy of what she would like sex with him to be, but really she doesn’t give a shit as long as it’s him. And that’s what scares her. He could be absolutely celibate and she’d still crave whatever he wanted to give her whether it be a rough kick or a soft caress—she’d be his dog, and **this is the worst time for her to realize that because her alarm is going off for work.

She orgasms at the cost of being ten minutes late.

The locker room lights are off when she goes to put her things away, which is unusual. Since she started, they’ve been lit around the clock. In fact, she’s not even sure where the light switch is in here because she’s never had to use it. Fumbling around in the pitch black is making her even tardier. Finally, when she finds the switch and flips it, the room illuminates, and standing under the migraine-inducing glow is someone who makes headaches seem like a dream come true.

Benny grins from his seat on the bench, which he quickly abandons in favor of looming over her. Once again, the sweaty, edematous mass of him blocks her exit.

She’s too busy contemplating if anyone would hear her scream to see him hold his open palm out expectantly.

“Give it to me,” he says.

“What?” She asks, imagining in another universe she sounds angry and oppositional instead of whiny and terrified. In another universe, she can also kick his ass. Not in this one, though. In this universe, she does as Benny demands and hands him her phone so she doesn’t have to suffer through the touch of his greasy skin a second time.

He holds her phone in one hand while the other holds his own. She doesn’t bother trying to see what he’s doing because she can’t get her feet to move let alone stand on tiptoes and look over his shoulder.

This goes on for a while in which her only thought consists of asking herself if she could run to the door and make it into the populated infirmary before he can catch her. Again, this is a solution mainly dependent on her stubborn feet.

She’s not really worried about what he puts on her phone. It’s what he’s getting from it that sets her pulse careening.

He reaches out and tries to shove it into her jacket pocket, but luckily that’s when her feet decide to save her and step away from his hands. He scowls at her like she just insulted his mother.

“Fine.” Benny opens his hand and drops her phone on the stone floor. She winces when she hears the shatter, then looks back up at his pleased, disgusting expression.

“Remember our trip.” He pushes past her, not enough to hurt but to make her yelp and stumble, and slams the door shut on his way out.

Her phone isn’t broken. The screen has a tiny crack in one corner but other than that it’s still perfect.

She grabs her bag from her locker and brings it with her to the nurse’s station, labeling the locker room as an unsafe and off limits space, which are becoming more bountiful by the day.

John is not her patient tonight. On her day off they must have had an influx of admissions because she’s responsible for 10 of them and the infirmary is unusually and appropriately staffed.

Her hopes of his nurse trading him are slim to none because he’s a wonderful patient and over time everyone has seemed to agree that they want him on their assignment sheet.

The other nurse’s that take and give her report always talk about what a cool, easy going guy he is and how they’re surprised that he needs that many guards with him.

“What do you think he did?” Stan, one of the day shift nurses, asks her.

“My bet’s on released a circus full of wild animals and let them trample a small town, but I could be wrong.” She taps her pen against her report sheet and laughs at her own joke.

Stan snorts. “He probably killed some rich guys.”

The other nurses like him so much that most of their theories on why John is in four point restraints with four men guarding him at all times is because he’s done something valiant that pissed someone powerful off.

That’s probably the other reason his wound looks better; not just because of her, but because if you like a patient or connect with them you’re more than likely going to give them the best care you can provide.

If she’s honest, it kind of makes her feel sick. Not because everyone has grown to like John, but because that means she’ll have less chance of being his nurse from here on out. Also, she knows it’s kindergarten mentality, but she liked him and treated him well first while the other ones had to get to know him beforehand.

Her case load is heavy. A couple IV’s, wound changes, someone with a tracheostomy. She sits down to chart, finally, at 3 AM.

One of the other nurses, Bill, calls for her across the hall.

She fights the urge to groan while standing on sore feet and walking over to his medication cart.

Bill grins at her, looking like he’s really enjoying himself. “My patient in 9 wants to see you.”

“Me?” She asks.

Bill shrugs, still looking very amused. “He says he needs to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Bill tells her. “Seems that he likes your company, though.” He gives an eyebrow raise at the awkward expression crawling onto her face.

She reminds herself that this her workplace for the 80th time and that Bill’s suggestive expressions are just him messing around. Joking. That’s all. He’s joking.

John is watching the door, waiting for her. When she pops in like a mouse and scurries to his bed, he feels the urge to pat her on the head for showing up which would be the only thing he could do to stop himself from grabbing her up and kissing her.

His smile is wide and genuine. “How’s the roommate search?”

“Uh, I got one.” She smiles timidly, hoping he doesn’t think she’s erratic and air-headed for finding someone so fast

His eyes widen just the smallest bit. “That’s good, is she…nice?”

She nods too eagerly. “He’s great. And he has great decorations.”

The key word here—at least the one his ears attune to—is he. Not because a woman and a man living together automatically entails romance or connection, but because John knows men—John is a man—and most of them turn out to be less than good.

He tries not to look mean, to keep his smile, to focus on her being here with him in the present and alive and well; If he doesn’t, rage will start talking, nefarious, whispering sin in his ear, assuring him that it wouldn’t be hard to break out of these handcuffs and make sure her roommate becomes her loyal dog for the rest of the time he spends living with her and alive.

“If you wouldn’t have suggested it, I’d probably be homeless by next week.” She tries to sway the conversation toward optimism because she sees something in his expression that reads like he’s a little upset. He probably does think she’s a moron at this point.

Maybe it’s just good that she’s happy. He tries to shift focus onto that. The roommate can’t be malignant if she’s so upbeat.

It’s been very easy to talk to John most times, but then there are moments like this when something awkward and unsaid hangs between them and more often than not she doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he doesn’t either.

“Just be careful,” is what he decides to say.

She chuckles. “I will, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t understand what’s funny—again, but he appreciates the laugh. One of them can get him through a few hours, and they’re so easy to wring out of her pretty throat.

One of the security guards stands, stretches, yawns. He says he’s going to take a break. The other guards are asleep, so once he leaves they’ll be alone.

“I’m gonna go to vending, John you want anything?” He asks.

John shakes his head no. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry if I bothered you while you were busy,” he says, too eager to talk as soon as the guard walks out. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She purses her lips, which he thinks means she’s trying not to leak an expression that will probably be embarrassing. Really, she’s trying to tame her lion heart back into its cage before it sinks its teeth into him and refuses to let go.

“I’m okay, John.” She attempts smiling. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”

He shrugs like his stab wound and near death are just a hiccup.

She talks again. “And I’m glad you called me in. I like talking to you.”

His face is all smile now. “Likewise.”

He tells her to pull up a chair if she wants, and she steals one of the metal ones that the breaking guard left behind, sitting by his bedside. They start with a casual conversation about the weather that turns into a discussion on harsh winters in Belarus.

“Did you grow up there?” She asks him.

He nods. “I traveled a lot.”

“So, you’re Russian?” She puts her chin in her palm and stares at him like he is the most interesting person in the world. She’s adorable like this. He wants to brush the stray hairs from her cheeks.

“Yes. American, now.”

“Do you speak Russian?” Her eyebrows raise.

“да, красивая девушка” His tone automatically slides into a deeper baritone when he says this, and it makes her shudder.

He needs to be nerfed. Outlawed. He should not be handsome, nice, like-able, and be able to speak a different language in his perfect voice. It’s really not fair at all.

She’s too busy trying to tame her rogue thoughts to ask him what he even said. The desire to climb into his lap and straddle him crosses her mind twenty times in different ways. She blinks heavy. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

They talk until the guard comes back from his break, mainly about Belarus and what it was like there and where else he has traveled.

Although she has a ton of charting to catch up on, she doesn’t want to leave him. The taste of human connection is on her tongue after a couple years of abstinence and she’s becoming addicted.

When she exits his room, it’s with reluctance and impressive self control.

She tells him to sleep. He promises he’ll try.

It would be easier to do her job if she wasn’t catching Benny sneering at her whenever they’re in the same space, but she gets through it, reasoning that John has it worse than her because he has to suffer through six hours with the asshole guard in his room. And, it’s easier also because of…well, John himself.

[t-toyeon]

Being the receptionist at the RPD and you’re always lonely in the big echoey main hall when its work time :(

As everyone filters into their respective offices, Chris sees you eyeing the groups longingly with a little frown on your face and those kicked puppy eyes before shaking it off, checking your watch and turn to your computer. He decides to initiate…

OPERATION: KEEP YOU COMPANY.

STATUS: HIGH PRIORITY

He sits at his desk, today was pretty much a paper work catch up day for everyone, so some S.T.A.R.S members have their heads down and some are idly chatting. Chris could normally be dubbed the chattiest to his desk mates, the one that people gravitate to for some social relief from their work…but not today.

Today any other member would say he was quiet, but all the others didnt see that his desk telephone wasnt on its mount, no, the phone was left speaker-side up on his desk, he had dialled reception and you, the receptionist, have been sat on call with him, primarily in silence. Honestly, both of you are working away and only speaking when you need a breather from writing every now and then but it makes your day so much brighter, even though every now and then you have to blow into the reciever or make a loud enough noise to let Chris know you wanna tell him something due to the phone balancing on his desk while he types/writes. He does the same with a not so quiet whisper of your name, his mouth practically smushed up to the receiver and causing chaotically loud feedback noises that never fail to make you admonish him while snickering along with him at his antics.

When hes not jump scaring you with static-y screams, you overhear the bumble of the S.T.A.R.S office, you eaves-drop and chime in with little comments/quips about whats being said, making Chris chuckle and throw one back, banter always coming natural to you two.

One day when he does this, he keeps prodding you about needing to tell you something but that he needs to do it in person, meaning you’ll have to wait till lunch break or the end of the day. Of course, you’ve been whining and trying to charm, bribe and THREATEN >:) him into telling you, but alas, Chris is stubborn asf. Plus he really wants this to go perfect.

Break time comes and you hear that Chris has hung up, before you have time to be glum about it, the sound was followed by heavy steps unevenly bounding down the stairs to the right of you, the thought of him skipping steps and leaping makes you giggle to yourself and shake your head.

“Something funny, (L/N)?” He rounds your big marble desk with his eyes remaining on you, a fluid move of just his hips and a sidestep as his hands are occupied with a little paper box.

“Oh, because i was laughing? nono, that just happens when i get a real good look at you, you know, you’re reaaal funny looking, Redfield” you hold back a laugh as he feigns shock horror and is holding the box away from you

“Oh..oh HA-HA! You know, its comments like that that are gonna make me keep all these top-notch S.T.A.R.S exclusive doughnuts to myself, even after i went through the trouble of smuggling them for you” He present 3 of some of the yummiest doughnuts you’ve ever seen to you, your eyes dart from him to the doughnuts a couple times before you put on an angelic, heart melting smile, batting your eyelashes.

“But Chris! we wouldn’t want your effort to go to waste now, would we?! Besides, you STARS are already living the good life up there in your super cool office together, throw a girl a bone sometime! it gets lonely down here ya know, All i have is the occasional Rita or Branaugh to talk to, if im lucky :(“

He smiles earnestly with a tilt of his head and squats down to your level, still holding the doughnuts in presentation to you.

“Well lucky you, I came all this way just to talk to you.” you flash a coy smile at him witha raise of your brow as his smile goes from teasing to adoration and he lowers his tone

“I actually have something to ask you”

“It’s not for more staples, is it? Someones gotta teach Irons how to use em cuz he wastes all mine like crazy-“

Chris lets out a boyish laugh and a bow of his head, not expecting you to take a shot at the chief, but he’s back to the task at hand quick.

“I…wanted to ask you out, like this weekend? I just cant get enough of being around you, I kinda miss you even just from clocking in to walking up to the office. Thought about lugging my work down here and just chilling with you just about every time Wesker opens his mouth-“ You both share a laugh “So whaddaya say?”

“I think you’re the sweetest and I cant wait for the weekend.”

He lets out a breath through his smile, staring at you with nothing but pure boyish love before he animatedly looks left to right and plants a whiplash inducing kiss on your cheek and leaves you with the box of sweet treats.

“These definitely sweetened the deal, Christopher! Good play!” you joke to his retreating form, he turns and winks at you all while maintaining his swaggering walk away. Its so obvious he feels like a million bucks right now, and you do too.

You finished the doughnuts and at the bottom of the box, Chris’ personal number is written with a little love heart <3

———————————

I wrote this spontaneously at 1am after seeing Jim and Pam with their little ear piece ass phones when Pam moved office

So wholesome :3 Is it just me though or does reading your own writing feel so JARRING?? like idk if this is shit or im just reading it differently to how you guys will

[popcornaddict500]

Working out the knot in your back

Pairing: Mhin x Adam

Synopsis: Mhin and Adam go on the search for knowledge, but a mistake slows down their progress... more than they had expected.

Warnings/notes: smut, contains oral sex and penetrative sex. Important: I hc Mhin to be afab. If you don't like, don't read. Thank you :]

2300~ words

-----------------

"I had expected this place to be full, but this is... a lot."

Adam and Mhin step into the archives of the Senobium. Walls go up higher than you can look , with shelves covered in boxes and boxes of scrolls, books, and anything else to contain information. Long ladders ascend into the sky. It feels 'old' here, like the feeling you'd get walking into an ancient library.

The floors are marble, the walls a pristine, tiled white, with blue lines symettrically leading up to the ceiling.

Adam carefully puts the glass pane back into its spot at the window, trying to be as silent as he can.

"Do you think we'll find something here?" He whispers to Mhin.

"This is where all their information is kept. We're bound to find something."

"But, something we're looking for?"

"We'll see."

Adam looks around, warily looking at the door at the end of the large hall. Mhin, sensing his discomfort, nudges his shin with their foot. "Come on. We don't have much time."

It's like a labyrinth in here. Though things are organized alphabetically, there are also other sections that have no markings, and the writings are in a language never seen before.

Adam and Mhin drag out all kinds of boxes from the 'C' section in the alphabetic rows. Only, there's hundreds...

The round clearing where they've found themselves in is now covered in boxes, papers strewn about, scrolls tossed aside or hazaphazardly thrown back into their boxes, onto the shelves. Soft blue candlelight casts a glow on the papers, and several benches line the walls.

Mhin, frustrated, shoves a box to the side with their foot. "How can there be so many different scrolls that all have to do with crowns?!" They hiss, tossing their cloak to the side.

"Right... I've been rifling through several boxes that only discuss different kinds of cages for beasts and the likes... It's amazing how many there are." Adam sighs, shaking his head.

Mhin groans, leaning down to grab a box in their way. Adam watches from the side, cheeks flushing a little at the way they're bent. Their pants are tight around their ass, leaving little to the imagination. He mentally curses himself for the thought that bubbles up in him.

"Uhm- Mhin, you should try to lift with your legs."

"Don't tell me what to do." They roll their eyes.

"Alright, I just don't want you to get hurt."

Mhin sets the box aside then reaches for another. This one's heavier. They grunt, struggling more with this one, and just when Adam's about to offer his help they force it up.

And in that same moment they both hear a 'pop'.

The boxes are hastily stuffed back to where they were, lost papers shoved under shelves, trying to make it seem as inconspicuous as possible. Grabbing their cloak off the floor, Adam rushes Mhin to the very back of the archive, in between two large shelves- They probably won't be found here. Probably.

"Uurghh!" Mhin writhes, their back not happy with their decisions.

"Sh!" Adam puts them down on their stomach, on a bench he dragged here. "I know it hurts but we need to be quiet...!" He whispers, and Mhin glares at him.

"Like I don't know that...!"

Adam smiles sympathetically. "Here, let me..." he reaches for them, "Can I touch you? I can try to massage it better."

Mhin grumbles, cheeks flushing, but they nod. "Fine..."

Adam gently pulls their shirt out of their pants and raises it to look at their back. "Show me where it hurts." He presses down on several spots, until Mhin jerks. "Here..." His hands, although bandaged, are warm and strong. He smooths them over their back,  pressing down firmly and trying to ease the muscles and joints that are all aching in pain.

Quietly, Mhin groans, gripping the edge of the bench.

"Does it help?"

"A little... Go lower."

He obeys and using three fingers on both hands, massages the tense spot there, elicting more soft moans and gasps from them. God, he can't take this. Get your mind out of the gutter! Can he help it, though? He loves their voice, and their skin is so smooth. He has no doubt it's soft, but because of the bandages he can't feel it. He wants to lean forward and kiss them there so bad.

"I'm sorry, this must be unpleasant." He slides his right hand under their belly, lifting them up a little- They gasp at this, straining to look back at him-

"Hey!"

Adam smiles, "Just trying to get your back into the right position. Sorry." He continues his ministrations, and while simple, it does seem to offer some comfort.

Mhin knows he means well, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Their flushed cheeks are proof of this.

"Where did you learn this?" They groan. "You... have some idea of what you're doing."

Adam chuckles softly. "Well, thank you. I was working with a doctor for some time, when I was younger." He massages with his palms.

Mhin relaxes, slowly. "You did, huh..." They sigh, feeling the worst of the pain fade.

"Still hurting?"

"Yeah." Mhin sighs, "But thanks anyway."

Adam stops.

Mhin glances at him over their shoulder, confused.

Adam looks over his shoulder and gasps, nabbing them off the bench and carrying them under his arm like they weigh nothing-

"?!"

"Someone's coming!" He gasps, rushing him and Mhin into a nearby storage closet. It's tight and dark inside, but Adam leaves the door cracked. He holds them tight against him, much to their annoyance and embarrassment.

His heart pounds, speeding up when he hears the voices get closer. Mhin grabs his arm. To steady themself? To calm down his nerves? Just to touch him? Who knows.

They can't discern the voices, but it must be some senobium mages.

The voices fade away and Adam breathes out a sigh of relief.

Mhin winces, "Stop squeezing me- my back-"

"Oh! Sorry." he doesn't let go of them entirely as his face heats up from being so close. "Damn... your back's still no good." He shakes his head and kisses their face. "Guess I'm not as efficient as I thought."

Mhin is very thankful that he can't see their red face in the dark. "We need to keep going though. We won't- ngh- get a chance to break in here again."

"Well, you don't know that. We know which window we broke open," Adam chuckles gently, "Besides, I don't want you hurting any more. It'd just make things more dangerous..."

Mhin sighs and leans forward, their forehead against his chest.

He hesitates, but holds them, still rubbing their back, "You know... we're alone in here. Maybe pleasure can drown out the pain."

Mhin blinks, pulling back to look at him with wide eyes. "Just what are you suggesting?"

Adam looks off to the side, flustered, "Just saying, it might help. It's helped for me before."

"Here, of all places?" They bristle, unable to look him in the eye. "...I can't really move right now."

"Then don't worry about that. I can handle it." He kisses them gently, on the mole by their lips. He smiles a bit at the feeling of their skin warming under his touch.

They glance at the door briefly, but then back at him. "Alright, just... be careful. We have to be quiet."

The door is now closed, the only source of light being a little glowing orb Adam has on him. He uses it for keeping warm in the cold, or lighting his way in dark areas. It lies on the floor, on top of Mhin's pants and cloak, and Adam's shirt as well.

But...

How are they supposed to stay quiet like this?!

Mhin's laying on a wide storage box, on their back, as Adam keeps their thighs spread, and his mouth on their wet folds. His eyes are closed, thick lashes resting on his cheeks. He has no right looking this gorgeous while doing this, especially in the dim light of the warmth orb.

Adam's skilled tongue and lips are merciless on them. He wants to please them, clearly, distract them from their stiff and painful back, but moaning out is the last thing they can manage right now. They press a hand over their mouth, gripping Adam's hair... Despite it all, they can't deny it's helping. They barely notice the pain anymore.

"Ad- Adam- slow down a little..." They gasp, groaning quietly under their breath.

Adam hums briefly and obeys- though now they have another problem. This pace is just as- if not more- maddening. He draws slow, long lines across their slit with his tongue, coming up to suck on their clit. When he goes back down, they can feel his tongue briefly slip inside.

"G-God...!"

Even through the bandages Mhin can feel how warm his hands are on their smooth thighs. Seriously, where on earth does this man get this skill from? When Mhin met the baker he seemed like such an innocent individual...

They were dead wrong.

Adam moans softly, rutting his hips into thin air with how worked up he is. He's doing this to ease their pain, yes, but he also enjoys it severely. He loves giving them pleasure and hearing them.

It doesn't take too long for them to tremble, thighs threatening to close around his face, "I'm- nngh--!"

Adam recognises the subtle throbbing of them against his tongue, and leans up to fondle and lick their clit a little more... They grip his hair tighter, elicting an intense groan from him.

Mhin's loud moan as they come is muffled by them keeping a hand over their mouth, but Adam hears it nontheless. Their slick drips onto his eager tongue. He laps it away and leans back up, looking at their shuddering form with affectionate eyes.

"I- fuck..." Mhin shivers, sweaty all over and eyes closed. They blink when Adam turns them over, placing them on their stomach instead. They grunt a little from the pain in their back, though now it's much more faint.

"I'm sorry, but... can you take a bit more?" He asks, his hand gripping their hip as they feel him rut up against them as he whispers, "I'm afraid doing that got me in quite a state..."

Mhin bites their lip, glancing at him over their shoulder, at his flushed face and heated expression. "It's fine. Just be quick about it..." They'd never admit it, not right now at least, but their pussy aches to be filled after that relentless -but pleasurable- assault of his tongue.

"Of course." Adam fumbles with his pants, tugging them down. "Normally I'd be a bit more slow about this, but God..." He groans in their ear, which gives them goosebumps all over, "You have quite an effect on me."

He thrusts his hips forward and they both groan. Mhin is tight but also so wet, which makes him slide in easily. Mhin closes their eyes, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands on their waist, getting stretched, and their back pain being almost gone by now.

As he moves, the storage box beneath them creaks and shifts. If it wasn't for the innate knowledge they'd probably die if they were found here, Adam would stuff them until the box broke. Another time, perhaps.

Mhin struggles to keep their moans at bay, but Adam does too... The room is filled with gasps, grunts, little whimpers, 'more' whispered under their breath, Adam gasping about how good they feel and how stunning they are in this light. It doesn't help them be any quieter.

"D-Don't call me- nh...!"

"But you are." He kisses in between their shoulder blades, "You're so beautiful, Mhin." He says it in such a way, as if they're the most gorgeous person he's laid eyes upon. Knowing Adam, he's not just being flattering.

"Ugh- s-shut up." Their face burns, though part of them melts inside. "Just keep going..."

Vigilant as ever, the two of them hear voices nearby once again. Adam acts quick, covering their mouth with his hand and leaning down to wrap his other arm around them. He doesn't stop moving, though.

Mhin, annoyed, sinks their teeth into his hand- He grunts, but allows it. If anything it makes him more turned on.

The voices near, Adam discerns something about 'this place is such a mess', but then they leave again... Their luck is good today. He pulls his hand away from their face.

"Don't do that again...!" They gasp. "I could barely breathe..."

"I'm sorry," He moans, resuming his quicker pace, "Ah- I just didn't want them to- ngh- hear us...!"

Mhin gasps, squeezing their eyes shut. "Hurry, I'm--"

"Me too-" Adam bites down on the nape of their neck, which makes them shiver pleasantly.

He grips them a bit tighter, and once he feels their walls flutter and clench around him, he quickly pulls out, stroking himself with haste. He kisses their lower back as he comes onto the floor.

There's a good minute of silence and heavy breathing as they regain their energy. Adam keeps kissing them wherever he can...

Mhin gets up, groaning quietly, and Adam offers his arm. They take it.

"How's your back?" He asks gently, eyes soft and a bit worried.

They stop and think about it, "...Good, actually. It's better." They stand. "I can't believe that helped."

Adam beams at them. "I'm glad to hear, love."

Again, part of them melts. "Y-Yeah." They grumble, grabbing their clothes and tugging them back on. "Anyway- we should keep going."

"Right." Adam smile, also getting dressed. He tucks the luminous orb into his bag. "Mhin?"

"What?" They turn and look at him.

He says nothing, simply leans down to kiss their lips.

They offer a small smile.

"Let's go."