#these two are such messes but i really like them together
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bisexualbaker · 3 days ago
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Oh shit yeah I got this!
Okay, so our main characters, let's call them Steve and Monica, because I need names and don't want to think too hard. Anyway, they grew up together, were platonic ride-or-die for each other in high school, but drifted apart when they went to colleges in different states where they eventually settled down. Monica ended up in a very restrictive state and Steve ended up in a much more pro-choice state. They occasionally message each other on the internet, but nothing really meaningful, usually no more than a Hi on their birthdays or relevant holidays (etc).
Then one day Steve gets a call from Monica. Her recent ex-boyfriend—well, she'd really been thinking of breaking up with him for a couple of months before that, but the final straw was three months ago when she found him messing with her birth control. She immediately kicked him to the curb and went about disentangling their lives, went and got Plan B or equivalent ASAP, just in case.
Well, turns out it was too late: She was already pregnant, and didn't get real confirmation until very recently. And, well, surely Steve knows how things are in the state where she lives.
Steve does know how things are in the state where Monica lives. He also knows that Monica has never wanted to have children, since they talked about it some in high school. There could be various reasons here, from bad experiences with her own parents, to financial reasons, to health reasons, but he never saw fit to argue with any of them. Her choice, right? Meanwhile, Steve himself isn't really sure on the kids thing, but he's leaning towards "no thanks", because he is sure that anyone making the choice to bring kids into the world had better be 100% on board, and he's not, so that means no. (Also, if he feels the need to spend any time with kids, he's got local friends and/or family with little ones he can spoil.)
Anyway! Steve tells Monica that it sounds like she's been having a rough time, maybe he could come pick her up and she could spend a week or two at his place, get resettled after everything that went down with That Jerk (very clearly not saying what else they could, or rather will, be doing while Monica is visiting). Deeply relieved, Monica takes him up on his offer enthusiastically. Steve calls his job, takes a few weeks off of work, and drives over to pick up Monica.
They've got an appointment in Steve's state, but it's still some days away, so they take a leisurely trip back to Steve's. All the while they're reconnecting, and Steve is noticing that all of the things he liked about Monica as a friend in high school are still there, and are also things he'd really like in a life partner. Her sense of humor, her willingness to compromise, her determination to find a way to make things work, her money sense... She's also much more confident in herself than she used to be, which Steve finds really attractive.
Or at least, she's more confident in herself whenever pregnancy shit isn't getting to her. Steve already knew that pregnancy and kids aren't something Monica ever wanted, but if he ever needed more convincing, he's getting it both on this road trip and when they get back to his condo. Still, he does everything he can to try and keep Monica's spirits up, to distract her and/or make sure she's prepared for her abortion and everything it will involve. (All the while, he's also learning what he can to make sure he can help her through the aftermath. Apparently post-partum isn't necessarily just for giving birth; all those hormones and body changes can also hammer down after any other pregnancy ending circumstances!)
Steve drives her to the clinic, waits with her when she asks him to, waits for her during, and does everything he can to make her as comfortable as possible as she recovers. One thing after another is just more yes, yes, yes, this is what he wants in his life, Monica is who he wants in his life.
He's a bit stuck on how or if to confess, though; this was a deeply shitty situation for Monica, and it's also something he could hypothetically hold over her legally after everything, which he would never do, but he knows might make things more difficult for both of them. Then, a day or two before he's set to start driving Monica home, he checks in on Monica packing—only to find her crying.
Steve immediately asks Monica what's wrong, if he can help with anything, and Monica just starts crying harder. She ends up confessing her own feelings, how she started to fall for Steve when he didn't judge her for her shitty ex-boyfriend and how she wanted to terminate the pregnancy (which more than a few of her local friends had), and then everything else he did to make her feel happy and secure while helping her out just really sealed the deal! She got half way through packing before she realized that she didn't actually want to leave him, but she also didn't want to put pressure on him after he'd done so much for her already.
Steve immediately hugs her and confesses back, telling her he doesn't want her to leave either but didn't want to put pressure on her, and also maybe this was a little soon after all of the everything going on. But he would love to go out to dinner with her properly, before he takes her back home, and again when they get there, and then maybe they could see how things go from there? They can try doing long-distance for a month or two, and if they're both still certain, they can get together more formally and figure out where to live.
Fast-forward ten years, Monica and Jake are happily married, with three dogs and a tortoise. They still don't want kids.
The end.
Edit: Okay, this is not "and the person who got them pregnant", but it mostly still works!
there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion
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fluffymiyaa · 2 days ago
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: ̗̀➛Rude Boy(s) ft. LADS Men
TW : Degradation, rough sex, face fucking, choke, hair pulling, tie up, spanking, brat taming, belly bulge, cockwarming, recording, toxic, dom/sub, brush painting play, gun play, biting, possessiveness, slight exhibition
Synopsis : In which, you having hate sex with them
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➤ Neighbour!Xavier x reader
You step out of your apartment, dressed casually in just a T-shirt and shorts, clutching plastic bags full of trash. The air is cool, and the hallway is quiet—except for the sound of someone’s heavy footsteps.
It’s Xavier, your neighbor, stomping towards his door with a stormy expression. His face is marred by fresh bruises, and his hands are bandaged, blood seeping faintly through the wrappings. It’s obvious he’s fresh from a mission—one that didn’t go as planned.
A smirk creeps onto your face as you lean casually against the doorframe.
“My, my… someone looks like they had a rough night.” you say, voice laced with mockery.
Xavier’s dark eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he stops briefly in his tracks. “I’m not in the mood for this.” he mutters through gritted teeth and continues walking past you.
But you’re not about to let him off that easily. You drop the trash bags to the floor with a loud thud and stride after him, your grin widening.
“Aw, come on. What happened? Did you mess up? Failed the big mission?” you taunt, your voice sing-songy.
He halts abruptly, turning on his heel to face you. His sharp gaze feels like it could cut through steel.
“Say another word,” he growls, his voice low and threatening, “and you’ll regret it.”
The tension in the air is electric, but you’re far too entertained to back down. You cock your head, your smirk unfaltering. “Oh? Really? Then make me.”
In a flash, Xavier closes the gap between you two, slamming you against the wall with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs. His large hand grips your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together just hard enough to make you wince. His face is inches from yours, his voice a deadly whisper.
“You wanna know what a rough night really feels like?” he hisses, his lips curling into a dangerous grin. “Fine. I’ll make it so rough, you won’t even remember your own name.”
That’s how you end up on your knees in his bedroom. Xavier's grip on your hair tightens as he forces your head down, his cock sliding deeper into your throat. The salty taste of his skin mingles with the coppery tang of blood from your split lip. Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you can still see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes.
"Hmm..finally put that mouth in a good use," he growls, his voice thick with sadistic pleasure. "I knew you'd look so pretty choking on my cock."
“Mmphngh!”
You gag and sputter around his thick length, your throat convulsing as you struggle to breathe.
Xavier's hips snap forward, driving himself deeper still. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, cutting off your air completely. Spots dance in your vision as you claw at his thighs, desperate for relief.
Xavier's fingers tighten in your hair as he groans, his hips stuttering and jerking as he nears his peak. He looks down on your messy face, god you look so hot it makes him wanna cum. His cock throbs against your tongue, the veins pulsing with need.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he pants, his voice ragged. "You better take it all, but don't swallow yet."
His command sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and anticipation. You brace yourself, knowing what's coming.
With a guttural moan, Xavier buries himself to the hilt in your throat. His cock pulses as he spills himself inside you, hot and thick. You can feel each spurt hitting the back of your throat, coating your tongue with his essence.
He holds you in place, his grip unyielding, as he rides out his orgasm. Finally, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping from your lips.
"Open up," he demands, his voice low and rough.
You obey, parting your lips to reveal the creamy load pooled on your tongue. His eyes darken with lust as he watches you,
Xavier's eyes darken with lust as he watches you, his spent cock twitching at the sight of his cum glistening on your tongue. He reaches out, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip, smearing the pearly drops.
"Such a good girl, taking my cum so well," he praises, his voice a low rumble. "Now, swallow it all down like a good little slut."
You obey, tilting your head back and letting the thick, salty fluid slide down your throat. Xavier's thumb presses against your chin, forcing your mouth closed as you swallow every last drop.
"Good girl." he praised, his other hand tapping your cheek.
Xavier's eyes blaze with a fierce, primal hunger as he hoists you up and tosses you onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets cool against your heated skin.
"We're not done." he growls, his voice a low, dangerous purr.
Before you can even catch your breath, he's on you, his hands ripping at your flimsy t-shirt. Buttons fly everywhere as he bares your chest to his greedy gaze.
"Xavier!" you gasp, arching into his touch. But he doesn't slow down, doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath.
He grabs the torn remnants of your shirt, using the fabric to bind your wrists together. The rough material bites into your skin, the sting only heightening your arousal.
Your shorts are next, yanked down your legs in one swift motion. You try to protest, to tell him to slow down.
“Wait! Slow-!”
He silences you with your own panties, shoving the damp fabric into your mouth.
"What? You said you wanted it rough, didn’t you?”
Xavier's eyes rake over your naked form, his gaze hot and possessive. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your glistening folds to his hungry stare.
"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his fingers delving between your thighs. "So wet already, so ready for me.”
He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, the touch light and teasing. You arch into his hand, desperate for more, craving the pressure and friction that will send you over the edge.
"Stop teasing." you plead, your voice breathy and needy.
But Xavier just shakes his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "No."
You whine in frustration, your hips bucking against his hand. But he denies you, his movements maddeningly slow and deliberate.
Suddenly, his palm connects with your clit in a sharp, stinging slap. You yelp, your body jerking at the unexpected sensation.
He pull out your panties from your mouth. Give you a chance to speak.
"Beg for it," he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Say that I'm the best hunter, that I'm better than you."
You furrow your brows, hesitating. The words feel foreign on your tongue, a admission of defeat that you're not ready to make.
Xavier's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing in their blue depths. "Don't want to? Okay, I'll just leave you here all spread out and unsatisfied."
He starts to pull away, but you stop him. “No! Please! W-wait! P-please xavier.. t-touch me.. want you to make me cum.. you're so good.. such a skilled hunter.. you're the best a-and way so much better than me..please…” your voice cracks, desperation and need coloring every word.
The words pour out of you in a rush, a desperate plea for his touch, his attention. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.
He smirks, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "See? That wasn't so hard."
He shoving you panties back into your mouth.
His fingers find your clit once more, circling the sensitive nub with deliberate, teasing strokes. You moan, your hips rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more
"That’s it," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Let me hear you. Let me feel you.”
He increases the pressure, rubbing your clit in firm, steady circles. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight heat. "So hot and ready for me."
He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you come so hard," he promises, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, until all you can think about is my cock inside you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation and desire. You've never been talked to like this before, never been so thoroughly claimed and possessed.
Without warning, he’s inside you, his hard length stretching you, filling you in one brutal thrust. You cry out around the gag, your back arching off the bed.
“Ah!”
He sets a punishing pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he pants, his voice rough with need. "So tight, so perfect."
He pulls back, his eyes locking with yours. The intensity in his gaze steals your breath, makes your heart race.
"I'm going to ruin you," he growls, his thrusts growing harder, faster. "Ruin this sweet little cunt until you can't walk straight."
You whimper around the gag, your nails raking down the sheets.
Xavier's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, kneading and squeezing roughly. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, twisting and tugging until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.
"You said you wanted to know how rough my night was, right?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's find out."
He leans down, his teeth closing around one sensitive peak. He bites down, hard enough to make you cry out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
"Maybe next time I’ll take you there," he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll fuck you there as we hide from the Wanderers. Let’s see how long you can keep your mouth shut.”
➤ Brat taming!Zayne x brat!reader
Your heels clicked loudly against the polished floor as you walked down the hall, head held high. Every step echoed with confidence, and you could feel the eyes on you—admiring, envious, curious. Flashing a dazzling smile, you tossed a playful wave toward a group of students, then blew a kiss toward a few boys who immediately scrambled to look cool. You chuckled to yourself. Being the most popular girl on campus had its perks.
When you reached the teacher's office, you smoothed your skirt, knocked lightly, and walked in. Mr. Ryo was at his desk, looking up from a pile of papers.
"You called for me, sir?" you asked with a practiced, polite tone.
He sighed, already looking exasperated as he handed you a stack of tests—your tests.
"Explain this." he said sharply.
Your stomach sank as you flipped through them. Red marks dominated every page. "Uh, well, you see... I haven’t been sleeping well because my house is under renov—"
"Save it," he cut you off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re barely scraping by, and if this keeps up, you’ll fail my class."
Your eyes widened in panic. "What? No, I can’t fail! Please, sir, I’ll—"
"That’s why I’ve arranged a tutor for you," he said flatly, cutting off your plea.
You groaned. "A tutor? Come on, I don’t need—"
"He’s already here." Mr. Ruki interrupted, nodding toward the door as it opened.
You turned to see who it was, and your heart dropped. There, leaning casually against the doorframe, was Zayne.
Of all people.
Zayne, your eternal nemesis. You hated him since high school, where he lorded over everyone as the president of the student council. He had a talent for finding flaws in you specifically—your tardiness, your outfits, your general existence. And now, standing there with his arms crossed, he looked just as insufferable as ever.
His sharp eyes flicked over you, unimpressed, before he straightened. "I’m only doing this because Mr. Ryo asked me to," he said, his voice cool and detached. "We’ll start after class. Your place."
"Wait, my place?" you blurted, already bristling.
He raised an eyebrow, ignoring your tone. "Don’t waste my time." he said simply, then turned and walked away as if the conversation was over.
You stood frozen, jaw dropped. How was this your life right now?
"Dismissed." Mr. Ryo said, waving you off.
You left the office in a daze, gripping the stack of papers tightly. Of all the tutors in the world, it had to be Zayne.
"Oh, he's still an asshole." you muttered under your breath.
You spot him standing near the front gate of the campus, waiting with his usual stiff posture. He’s dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into his plain slacks, his glasses perched perfectly on his nose. Seriously, who even dresses like that these days? Zayne was still the same nerdy, old-fashioned perfectionist he’d always been.
“You’re late." he said as you approached, his tone as cold as ever.
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms. "Sorry." you muttered, not meaning it in the slightest.
He sighed heavily, the disappointment practically radiating off him. "You never change."
"And neither do you," you snapped back. "Look, let’s just cut this short, okay? We both hate this, and we both hate each other. I’ll tell Mr. Ryo that you were useless and told me to screw off. Problem solved. Bye."
You turned on your heel and walked away. He looked at you from behind, adjusting his glasses as his sharp gaze followed you.
"She needs to be disciplined."
Once you step in your room, Somehow, impossibly, you’ve ended up straddling Zayne’s lap, his thick length nestled snugly between your thighs. Skirt up, panties aside.
His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you steady, his hard length throbbing deep inside you. The books lay open on the desk before you.
He grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. His hazel eyes are dark with desire as they take over your form. "I'll give you five minutes to finish your quiz," he growls, voice low and commanding. "Start now."
You shiver at the authority in his tone, a thrill running down your spine. With trembling hands, you reach for your pen, but it's a struggle to focus. The heat of Zayne's cock deep inside you is a constant distraction, making it hard to.
You try to focus, pen hovering over the paper, but it's impossible to think with him filling you so completely. Your walls clench around him, desperate for more, for the friction that will send you spiraling into bliss. But he remains still, a cruel master determined to make you earn your pleasure.
"Three minutes," he growls, his breath hot against your neck. His hips twitch, a teasing promise of what's to come. "Don't make me wait."
You whimper, the sound lost in the rustle of turning pages. The first question swims into view, but the words blur together, meaningless in the face of the exquisite ache building within you. Your hand trembles as you scribble down an answer, praying it's correct.
“Times up.”
The exam paper lies crumpled on the desk, your pen clattering to the floor as you whimper loudly. Zayne moves closer, his hazel eyes scanning the answers you've scribbled down. As he reads, his cock twitches inside you, eliciting a moan from your lips.
"Look at your paper," he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Did you really finish high school? How did you even go to college? God, you're still as dumb as ever. What have you been doing all these years?"
You bite your lip, trying to stifle another moan as he pinches your clit. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction against his thick length buried deep within you.
"D-don't be mean, Zayne." you plead, humping against him desperately.
“D-don’t b-be mean, Z-zayne.” He mocked.
He scoffs, grips on your neck tightens, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. His eyes are dark with lust and frustration, a dangerous combination that sends shivers down your spine.
"This won't do at all," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "You just want to get fucked stupid, don't you? To have your mind completely emptied by my cock until you can't think of anything but the pleasure I give you."
You whimper pathetically, your body trembling under his dominant touch. The degrading words only serve to heighten your arousal, your pussy clenching greedily around his thick shaft.
"Answer me," Zayne demands, his fingers digging into your skin. "Tell me what you want”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they're not from pain. It's the overwhelming mix of shame and desire that threatens to consume you.
"Y-yes.. please want you to fuck me stupid, zayne.. been waiting for long." You beg.
The cool air hits your exposed skin as Zayne pulls his thick cock out of your dripping pussy, making you whine in protest. He grabs your hips and maneuvers you to the edge of the bed, your ass presented to him like an offering.
SLAP!
His palm connects with your cheek, the sting radiating through your body. You yelp and bury your face in the sheets, your fingers clutching at the fabric.
"And what makes you deserve it?" Zayne asks, his voice cold and demanding.
You can't response, your mind clouded with arousal and the throbbing pain in your ass. He rubs your reddening cheeks, soothing the sting before delivering another sharp spank.
"Ah! Zayne, it hurts!" you cry out, your voice muffled by the sheets.
"You want me to stop?" he asks, his fingers digging into your tender flesh.
"N-no," you whimper, shaking your head frantically. "Please don't stop.."
Zayne's dark chuckle rumbles through his chest as he delivers another stinging spank to your reddened ass. "I knew it," he growls, his fingers digging into your tender flesh. "You're just a pathetic little masochist, aren't you? You crave the pain, the degradation. It's the only way you can get off."
He leans over you, his body pressing against your back as he whispers in your ear. "Now, you better count for me. Maybe if you're being a good little slut, I'll fuck you senseless. But if you miss a number or hesitate, I'll keep spanking you until you can't sit for a week."
His hand hovers over your ass, the threat of another spank hanging in the air. "Start counting.”
You take a shaky breath, your mind racing with anticipation and fear. "O-one." you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.
SLAP!
His palm connects with your cheek, the pain searing through your body.
"Louder," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "I want the whole neighborhood to hear what a pathetic slut you are."
You bite your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you force out the next number. "T-two."
SLAP!
Another spank lands on your reddened flesh, the sting radiating through your body.
Zayne's hand cracks against your ass again and again, the sharp sting of each spank sending jolts of pain and pleasure through your body. You lose track of how many times his palm connects with your reddened flesh, your mind hazing over with the intensity of it all.
"Twenty." you cry out, your voice hoarse and broken.
Zayne pauses, taking a deep breath as he admires his handiwork. His fingers trace over the raised welts on your skin, the heat radiating from your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart, exposing your dripping pussy to his hungry gaze.
"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me, even after all that. Aren't you ashamed? Didn't you say you hated me since high school? Now look at you, bent over and taking your punishment like a good little slut.
"I-I hate you!" you whimper, even as your hips push back against his touch.
Zayne chuckles darkly, his fingers rubbing your labia teasingly. His fingers slip easily into your soaked entrance, your body betraying your true desires despite your feeble protests. He pumps them in and out, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot deep inside you.
"Don't worry, the feeling is mutual." he murmurs, his lips brushing against your back as he presses a tender kiss to your skin.
His fingers move faster, harder, the obscene sound of your arousal filling the room. Your walls clench around him, desperate for more, even as your mind reels from the degrading words falling from his lips.
Just as you about to cum, his fingers slip out of your dripping pussy, replaced by the thick, hard length of his cock. You arch your back with a loud moan, your body stretching to accommodate him.
"Oh! Zayne!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls.
He starts fucking you hard and fast, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulls your head back. His other hand presses down on your back, keeping you arched and exposed to his relentless thrusts.
The skin slapping sounds fill the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. His palm connects with your ass, the sting only heightening your arousal.
"Ahhngh s-so good please please don't stop..!" you beg, your words dissolving into incoherent pleas.
Zayne chuckles darkly, his pace never faltering. "Yeah? Cock drunk already? I barely started, darling.”
He fucks you harder, faster, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. His hand runs to your belly, pressing down on the bulge as he pounds into you. The added pressure makes you scream, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice.
"Fuck," he groans, his hips snapping forward with brutal force. "I fucking hate you. Fucking hate that short skirt, fucking hate that skimpy outfit, fucking hate your makeup, your attitude. Argh... so fucking hot. Makes me want to fuck you in front of everyone. God, this pussy feels so good."
His words are like a drug, your body responding to the degradation even as your mind reels. You can only moan in response, lost in the haze of pleasure and pain.
"Z-zayne... k-kiss me... please." you manage to gasp out, your voice broken and needy.
Zayne throws his glasses aside, grabbing your face and crushing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you, owning you.
"Fuck me like you hate me."
➤ Rival!Rafayel x reader
Your footsteps echo through the art exhibition, your eyes scanning the frames on the walls. Each piece is scrutinized in silence, the weight of your judgment unmistakable. You shake your head, disappointment flickering across your face. Sliding your hands into the pockets of your coat, you turn on your heels, ready to leave.
And then you see him.
Rafayel, the owner of the exhibition, stands a few feet away, his sharp gaze cutting through the distance. Anger burns in his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands, his voice tight.
You scoff, taking a deliberate step toward him.
"Rafayel," you say, your tone laced with mockery, "have you learned nothing?"
His hands clench into fists at his sides, his body tense as he closes the gap between you.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he growls, his face mere inches from yours.
A smirk tugs at your lips, and you laugh softly, cocky and infuriating. Tilting your head, you deliver the blow.
"Your paintings," you say, gesturing toward the walls with a flick of your hand. "Still as dull as ever."
His jaw tightens, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. You can see him fighting the urge to lash out.
"You don’t know a damn thing." he hisses.
Turning back to the nearest painting, you feign a thoughtful gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to unnerve him. Then, almost casually, you speak.
"Have you heard the news? About the plagiarism accusations?"
You don’t need to look at him to feel the storm brewing in his chest.
"I didn’t plagiarize anything," he snaps, his voice low and trembling with restrained fury. "I don’t copy, and I don’t steal."
You let out a low laugh, shaking your head as if pitying him.
"Are you sure about that?" you ask, your smug expression cutting deeper than words.
His teeth grind together audibly.
"I don’t need to prove anything to you."
You shrug, your indifference only stoking the fire in his eyes. Slowly, you start toward the exit, your footsteps deliberate.
"Well," you call over your shoulder, "you’d better get a good lawyer, then."
Before you can leave, he grabs your arm, spinning you back toward him. His grip is desperate, his voice shaking.
"I didn’t do it!" he insists, his eyes pleading for you to believe him—or at least stop.
Your smirk widens as you raise a hand, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.
"Then you’d better give me a reason not to report you," you say, your voice silky, every word a trap. "What can you do for me, Rafayel? Hmm?"
His breath catches.
"I..." His voice falters, his resolve crumbling under the weight of your gaze. "I’ll do anything."
You smirk down at him, your shadow falling over his helpless form as he lies on the bed. His face is flushed, a deep crimson that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He averts his gaze, his breath shallow and uneven, clearly wrestling with the embarrassment of the situation.
"You look pathetic like this." you say, your tone a mixture of mockery and amusement.
His lips part as if to respond, but no words come. Instead, he turns his head to the side, his fists gripping the sheets beneath him, as though anchoring himself against the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.
"Don’t look away." you command, your voice sharp enough to make him flinch. Slowly, hesitantly, his eyes meet yours, wide and vulnerable.
The sight only fuels your satisfaction. Leaning in, you lower your face closer to his, your smirk widening as you watch him squirm.
"Embarrassed, are we?" you whisper, your words laced with cruel delight.
"I…" he stammers, his voice barely audible.
You chuckle softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Reaching out, you trail a finger along his jawline, savoring the way he shivers under your touch.
"Good," you murmur. "Stay just like this. Helpless. Humble."
His breath hitches, and for a moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you—the tension between dominance and submission hanging heavy in the air.
"Do you understand?" you ask, your voice low but firm.
He nods, barely, his pride crumbling under the weight of your gaze.
You slowly take one of the brush paint. Rafayel's eyes widen as he watches you approach, the brush in your hand, a wicked gleam in your eyes. He squirms on the bed, his face flushed with embarrassment and arousal, his hard cock standing proudly against his stomach.
“Mhm.. you’re so sensitive.”
"S-stop teasing.” he whimpers, his hips twitching as you tease the sensitive tip with the soft bristles.
You enjoying the power you hold over him, the way he's at your mercy. "And who said you get to decide?" you purr, your voice low and seductive. "I'm in charge now, and I'm going to take my time with you."
You trail the brush down his length, watching as he shudders and moans, his cock twitching under your touch. "Look at you," you murmur, your eyes roaming over his body, taking in every inch of him. "So hard for me already, so desperate for my touch.”
The brush go lower, teasing his balls, watching as he squirms and moans, his cock twitching and leaking pre-cum.
You trail the pre-cum coated brush over his sensitive skin, his body arching into your touch. He watches, transfixed, as you paint his abs, his nipples, his neck, his face, leaving a glistening trail of his own essence in your wake.
"Fuck," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You're driving me crazy."
He licks his lips as you rub the brush over them, tasting himself, the flavor heady and intoxicating. His eyes meet yours, dark with lust and adoration, his gaze never leaving your face as you admire your handiwork.
"Such a work of art," you murmur, your voice filled with reverence. "My own personal masterpiece.”
You throw away the paintbrush, your hands sliding over his cum-slicked skin. He gasps as you grip his neck, forcing him to meet your piercing gaze, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut.
"I never liked you," you hiss, your voice dripping with venom. "Back in art college, you were so arrogant, so childish. And yet, you always won every competition."
Your other hand flicks and pinches his nipple, making him moan and arch into your touch. "I wonder what people would think if they saw you like this," you mused, your eyes glinting with malice. "So helpless, so desperate under me. Should we show them? Should I record how pathetic you look right now?"
Rafayel's cock twitches at the thought, his body betraying his desire even as he shakes his head, pleading with you. "Please, don't." he begs, his voice hoarse with need.
His breath hitches as your hand drifts lower, your fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. "Look at you," you purr, your voice low and seductive. "So hard for me, even as I threaten to expose you."
You squeeze him tighter, your thumb swirling around the sensitive head, smearing the pre-cum that leaks from the tip. "I could ruin you, you know," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. "One video, one scandal, and your reputation would be in tatters."
Rafayel whimpers, his hips bucking into your hand, seeking more of your touch. "Please," he begs, his voice breaking. "Don't do this. I'll do anything, be anything you want."
You smirk, your eyes gleaming with triumph. "Anything, huh?" you ask, your hand stilling on his cock. "Even if I want to use you like my own personal toy?”
His eyes widen at the suggestion, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through him. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he tries to find his voice.
"Y-yes," he stammers, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "I'll do anything you want. Use me however you see fit."
He looks up at you, his gaze pleading and desperate, silently begging you to take control, to dominate him completely. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I'm yours."
You smirk, your eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. You release his cock, your hand trailing up his body, your nails dragging lightly over his skin.
"Good boy," you purr, your voice low and seductive. "Such a good obedient little toy.”
You take off your bra and panties, crawl on top of him teasingly.
Rafayel's eyes widen as you straddle his face, your bare pussy hovering just inches from his eager mouth. He licks his lips, his tongue darting out to taste you, to savor your essence.
"Make me cum first." you demand, your voice husky with desire. You grip his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as you lower yourself onto his face, your wet heat pressing against his lips.
He moans into you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. He grips your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, his tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your clit, sucking and nibbling until you're writhing above him, your juices coating his face.
You ride him hard, grinding your pussy against his mouth, using his face for your pleasure. "Fuck, yes," you moan, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Just like that.”
Rafayel's tongue delves deep, lapping at your clit, sucking and nibbling, his lips and teeth and chin all covered in your juices as he devours you. He grips your hips tighter, holding you in place as you grind against his face, using him for your pleasure.
Your hand wanders to look for your phone. Flashing coming up to his face. His eyes widen in shock as the flash of your phone goes off, momentarily blinding him. He squirms beneath you, instinctively trying to pull away from the sudden bright light.
But you press him down harder, your grip on his hair tightening, your thighs clamping around his head. "Stay still," you command, your voice firm. "Keep going, baby. Don't you want to make me cum?"
Rafayel whimpers, his body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. He knows he's helpless, completely at your mercy, and yet the thought of being recorded, of being exposed, only serves to heighten his desire.
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and then dives back in, his tongue lapping at your clit, his lips sealing around it and sucking hard. He can feel you tensing above him, your moans growing louder, more desperate, as he works you closer and closer to the edge.
Rafayel's tongue works feverishly, his lips and teeth and chin all covered in your juices as he devours you, determined to bring you to the edge. He can feel you tensing above him, your thighs quivering, your juices flowing freely as he pushes you closer and closer to the release you so desperately crave.
He doubles his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his lips sealing around it and sucking hard, his nose pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he breathes in your scent, intoxicated by your taste, your smell, the feel of you against his mouth.
Your moans grow louder, more desperate, your hips bucking wildly against his face as you ride him harder, chasing your release. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," you cry out, your voice raw with need.
You came all over his face. Rafayel's face is drenched in your juices as you pull away, your release coating his lips and chin, dripping down onto his chest. He looks up at you, his eyes glazed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
You smirk down at him, your phone still in hand, the camera trained on his cock as you pump it a few times, making him wince at the sensitivity. "Oh? Did you just cum? Only from me sitting on your face?" you mock, your voice dripping with amusement.
He grunts, his face burning with shame at the realization that he came just from pleasuring you, from the taste and feel of you against his mouth. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his cock twitching in your hand.
But then you cup his face, your fingers gentle against his skin as you pull him towards you, your lips meeting in a deep, passionate kiss. Rafayel melts into it, his embarrassment forgotten as he loses himself in the taste of you, in the feel of your lips against his.
When you pull away from the kiss, your lips leaving his with a soft smack. He watches, breathless and aching, as you place your phone on the desk, angling it to capture both of you.
"Just because I'm feeling nice, I'm gonna ride tonight," you purr, your hand still wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking it slowly, teasingly.
"T-thank you," Rafayel stammers, his voice husky with need. He bucks into your touch, desperate for more, for the feel of you around him.
You position yourself over him, your wet heat hovering just above his tip. Then, with a slow, torturous descent, you sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch into your tight, slick heat.
Rafayel groans, his head falling back against the pillow as you envelop him, your walls clenching around his length. "Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his hands flying to your hips, gripping them tightly.
You start to move, rising up until just the tip remains inside you, then sinking back down, taking him deep. Rafayel's hips buck up to meet you, his rhythm matching yours as you ride him hard and fast.
"That's it, baby," he pants, his eyes locked on where you're joined, watching as his cock disappears into your heat over and over again. "Fuck, you're so tight, so perfect."
His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples as you bounce on his lap. You moan, your head falling back, your hair cascading down your back as you lose yourself in the pleasure.
He leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud as you ride him.
You grin down at him, your confidence radiating as you lean closer, lowering your head until your lips hover near his ear.
"I’m actually the one who’s been copying you.”
➤ Sylus x thief!reader
You slide your gun back into your pocket, your eyes darting around the sprawling, opulent house. The silence here is unnerving, as if the place has been abandoned, yet something about it feels... wrong. You tiptoe cautiously, the soles of your boots making the faintest of sounds against the polished floor.
Your boss had told you to rob this house, promising a hefty payoff. But now, separated from your partners, the task feels like a trap. The eerie quiet, the pristine state of everything—it’s like no one’s lived here in years.
Still, the sheer luxury of it all tempts you. Your gaze lingers on ornate paintings, golden vases, and intricately crafted furniture. You can't wait to make off with some of it. Before you realize it, your wandering feet lead you to the kitchen.
The darkness here is almost tangible, swallowing everything whole. You fumble forward, your fingers brushing against cold countertops. Suddenly, your hand knocks over something small and glass.
A spice jar tumbles to the floor with a sharp clink.
"Shit, shit!" you whisper, your hands scrambling to pick it up.
Then, without warning, the overhead light flicks on.
"Well, well," a low, amused voice drawls. "What do we have here? A curious little kitten prowling where it shouldn’t be?"
Your heart jumps to your throat as you whirl around. Standing in the doorway is a tall man with stark white hair and piercing eyes. He’s immaculate, like he stepped out of some glossy magazine, but there’s something deeply unnerving about the smirk playing on his lips.
You gulp, your hands trembling as you reach for your gun. "W-who are you?"
He steps closer, the smirk widening. "Me? I’m Sylus, the owner of this house. Just got back from... cleaning up a mess. Some little rats who tried to steal from me."
Your stomach drops. Your partners. They’re gone.
Fear overtakes you, but you steady your grip, pulling the gun free and aiming it square at his chest. "Don’t come any closer."
His expression doesn’t falter. If anything, his smirk grows darker, more mocking. "Oh, kitten," he murmurs, "you don’t want to do that."
"Sorry." you breathe, steeling yourself as you pull the trigger.
Bang!
You flinch, your eyes squeezed shut. When you finally force them open, he’s still standing there. Unharmed.
The bullet didn’t touch him.
"What the hell—" you stammer, panic rising as you pull the trigger again. And again.
Nothing works. He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he laughs—a cold, menacing sound that echoes through the room.
In a flash, he’s on you, gripping your wrist with an iron strength. Pain shoots through you, forcing the gun to clatter to the floor. He lifts your chin with his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.
"I told you," he says, his voice soft but laced with menace. "You didn’t want to do that."
"F-fuck you!" you snap, struggling against his grip. "Let me go!"
He tilts his head, his gaze dragging over your pretty face. There’s an unsettling glint in his eyes, like a predator toying with its prey.
"Hm," he murmurs, his grip tightening. "No. I’ll keep this one.”
You're sprawled out on the cold kitchen table, tears streaming down your face as his tongue laps hungrily at your most intimate places. Your wrists are bound with his evol, holding your legs wide open for his feasting. The obscene sounds of his slurping and your desperate moans echo through the house.
"P-please, ahh! No more... too much...!" you beg, voice hoarse from crying out. But he just chuckles darkly, the vibrations sending shivers through your core.
"Mhm... not my fault this is my kitchen. I eat whatever I want. Let me enjoy my meal." he growls, diving back lap at your dripping folds. You arch off the floor, a loud moan tearing from your throat. Gods, if anyone hears...
"Ngghh... fuck you... I hate rich people like you... people like me barely have any meals..." you whimper, even as your hips buck into his face. It's your own fault for trying to rob this place, but what choice did you have? You need to survive.
Sylus pulls back, admiring your glistening body splayed out before him. Your thighs are trembling, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. He licks his lips, savoring your taste.
"People like me, huh? Tell me more, kitten. What do you think about me?" His voice is a low purr, dripping with dark amusement. He trails a clawed finger along your inner thigh, teasing.
You try to think of anything, but your mind is hazy with pleasure. All you can focus on is the heat of his gaze, the promise in his touch. Your body is betraying you, aching for more even as you struggle against the bonds.
"Uh... you... you're annoyingly rich... but ahh... you're so hot... mhh..." The words slip out between moans as you rub your thighs together, seeking friction. It's clear he's getting to you, driving you crazy with need.
He chuckles darkly, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Is that so? And yet here you are, spread out like a feast just for me. I wonder... do you really hate me? Or do you crave the forbidden thrill of being at the mercy of someone like me?"
Sylus’ clawed hands trails up your thigh, sharp nails lightly scraping your sensitive skin. He can feel you trembling, feel the heat radiating off your body. Your arousal is intoxicating, a heady scent that fills his senses.
"I could give you everything you've ever wanted, kitten. All you have to do is ask nicely." He nips at your earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue. "Or maybe you'd prefer I take it? I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
His hand slides up your body, cupping your breast and squeezing roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling and tugging until you're arching into his touch with a desperate whine. Your body is so responsive, so eager for his touch even as you try to resist.
"Mhm..i could eat you whole up y’know.." he purrs, his voice a dark promise. He leans down, capturing your nipple between his lips and sucking hard. The sensation sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through you, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.
His free hand continues its teasing exploration of your body, dipping between your thighs to circle your clit. You're so wet, so ready for him. He can feel it in the way your hips buck against his touch, seeking more.
"Look at you, so desperate for my cock." he growls, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He sits back on his heels, admiring the wanton picture you make - bound and spread out, flushed and panting with need.
Sylus smirks, an idea forming in his twisted mind. He pulls away from you, his gaze roaming the kitchen floor as if searching for something. Then he spots it - your gun, lying forgotten on the floor. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"You remember this?" he asks, holding it up for you to see. Your eyes widen in fear and you gulp, shaking your head frantically.
"No, no, please don't kill me-" you beg, your voice trembling. But he just laughs, a dark, cruel sound that sends shivers down your spine.
"Shh... I won't kill you, kitten. I've decided to keep you instead. But let's make this more interesting, shall we?" He slides the gun up your body, making you flinch and squirm. He stops when the barrel is pressed against your lips.
"Open up." he commands, his voice brooking no argument. You have no choice but to comply, parting your lips.
He pushes the gun deeper into your mouth, watching with sadistic glee as you gag and choke around it. Tears stream down your face as you struggle to breathe, your body writhing in panic. But he just smirks, enjoying your distress.
"That's it, kitten. Take it all." he purrs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. He holds the gun in place for a long moment before finally pulling it out. Strings of saliva connect your lips to the barrel, a degrading reminder of what he's just made you do.
He trails the gun down your body, over your heaving breasts and quivering stomach, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your pussy is dripping with arousal, a fact that doesn't escape his notice.
"Look at you, so wet and ready," he taunts, rubbing the gun against your clit. You cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily into the touch. The sensation is strange but not entirely unpleasant, the cold metal a stark contrast to your heated flesh.
He continues to tease your clit with the gun. Your hips writhe and buck, seeking more of the strange sensation even as your mind rebels at the degradation of it all.
"You're such a filthy slut, getting off on having a gun shoved in your mouth and rubbed on your cunt, knowing it could kill you anytime." he growls, his voice thick with lust. He slides the barrel lower, pressing it against your entrance. Your eyes widen in fear and anticipation, your body tensing as he begins to push it inside.
"Oh god!" you cry out as the cold metal breaches your hot, slick flesh. The sensation is intense, bordering on painful, but there's an undeniable thrill to it as well. He works the gun in and out, fucking you with it in shallow thrusts that have you seeing stars.
He continues to fuck you with the gun, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your body. Your pussy clenches around the cold metal, trying to draw it deeper even as your mind screams at the wrongness of it all. He leans over you, his body caging you in as he drives the gun in harder, faster.
"That's it, kitten. Take it all. Take every fucking inch." he growls, his voice a dark promise. His free hand releases your nipple to trail down your body, fingers dancing over your skin like a promise of more to come. He reaches your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles that have you keening and thrashing beneath him.
The dual stimulation is too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling tight as the pressure builds to an unbearable crescendo. You're so close, teetering on the brink of something huge and terrifying and utterly inevitable.
"Fuck, I can feel you tightening up.”
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "Come for me, kitten. Let me feel you come undone on your gun." His fingers work your clit with ruthless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling tight as the pressure builds to an unbearable crescendo. You're so close, teetering on the brink of something huge and terrifying and utterly inevitable.
With a final, brutal thrust of the gun, he sends you careening over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching and fluttering around the cold metal as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through you.
“Ahhhh!!”
You scream, your voice raw and ragged, as the intensity of your climax overwhelms you.
He brings the gun to his lips, licking your essence from the barrel with a wicked grin. The taste of your arousal mingles with the metallic tang of the gun, a heady combination that makes his cock throb with need.
"Delicious." he purrs, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. He sets the gun aside, his attention now fully focused on your quivering, spent form. He trails his fingers up your thighs, his touch feather-light and teasing.
"But we're far from done, kitten. I'm going to fuck you now, hard and deep, until you can't even remember your own name. Until the only thing you know is the feel of my cock splitting you open and the sound of my voice commanding you to come."
He positions himself between your legs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your sensitive, swollen flesh. You whimper, your body already tensing in anticipation of the intrusion. He chuckles darkly, enjoying your reaction.
"Shh, just relax and take it like a good little slut. This is what you're made for, after all. To be used and filled and fucked until you can't take anymore."
With those words, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. You cry out, your back arching off the table as he stretches you wide around his thick length. The burn of the intrusion is intense, your body struggling to accommodate his size.
"Fuck, you're so tight." he groans, his hips grinding against yours. He gives you a moment to adjust before he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. He sets a punishing pace, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt with ruthless efficiency.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he pounds into you with wild abandon. His cock stretches you wide, the thick length hitting depths you didn't know you had. Each thrust sends jolts of pleasure-pain through your body, your nerves singing with the intensity of it all.
“Ahhh Sy-sylus! P-please ahh..! S-so good!”
Sylus pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust driving you harder against the table. His claws dig into your hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. You can feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as he stretches you, claiming you as his own.
He leans over you, his body caging you in as he drives into you harder, faster. His teeth find your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until you're sure you'll be marked for days. The thought sends a thrill through you, the idea of bearing his claim for all to see.
"Yeah... you're mine now. All mine," he said, his voice low and possessive. His eyes burned into yours, unrelenting. "No matter how much you hate it, I'm going to keep you here. Forever."
Before you could respond, he grabbed the back of your neck and crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was rough, messy, and unapologetic, leaving you breathless and furious all at once.
When he pulled back, his smirk returned.
"That means I'll take care of you. Feed you. Buy you whatever you want. Take you anywhere you dream of going." he murmured, his tone deceptively sweet.
His grip tightened slightly, holding you in place. "I'll spoil you, treat you better than anyone ever could. But you're not leaving. Not now, not ever.”
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Reblogs are more appreciated, thanks for the notes!
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local-extraterrestrial · 17 hours ago
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This this this THIS.
I see everything you're saying, but I'm particularly caught up on his leg. I wrote a whole-ass analysis on this at some point but I've lost it somewhere in the depths of my notes. Alas. Either way: I refuse to believe this man would ever be able to walk properly, let alone this soon.
In the impact frame of his leg breaking we can clearly see that this is not just a complete breakage of both his tibia and fibula (bones in the lower leg, connecting the knee to the ankle), but also likely a compound fracture.
[A compound fracture (also known as an “open fracture”) is a bone fracture that is accompanied by breaks in the skin, causing the broken ends of bone to come into contact with the outside environment.]
While we don't see either of the bones strictly sticking out of his leg (which I like to joke is because they would've had to add a gore warning if they did that), we do see the bones pushing at the muscle and skin of his calf, definitely causing a degree of muscle damage that would take a long time to heal. Another thing that points me in the direction of a compound fracture is the fact we later see he has an open wound on roughly the spot where the bone would've pieced the skin. But that is just guess work.
And even then, we see he has to manually realign the bones. Which, in case you don't know, is something you should never do with a complete or compound fracture. But he doesn't exactly have a choice, does he? This kind of fracture requires surgery and literal metal rods and plates to align and stabilise the bone. And this is two of them. (Also one thing that haunts my nightmares is the fact that to set a fracture that bad without any sort of surgery, he likely would've had to pull the bones apart before pushing them back together. Geez, my own leg hurts just thinking about it.)
Meaning, the bones are definitely misaligned and would under no circumstances heal right.
And to make matters worse, the impact frame also shows us that the bones also splintered upon impact, likely made even worse by him having to so indelicately realign the bone. Which not only means that the pieces missing would've made the recovery process even longer, but that those splinters are likely still in his leg. As in, in there. In the muscle. Shrapnel-style. Making every single movement of the muscles EXCRUCIATING. That's literally a bunch of small knives in his muscles. Horrible. And that might have contributed to the infection we see developing. His muscles and tendons are no doubt fucked to hell and back.
Add to all that the fact that, due to the placement and cause of the break, this might've also messed up his knee, likely a displacement of the patella (kneecap). Messed up shit, really.
In conclusion, Jayce Talis shouldn't have been able to walk with any semblance of a normal gait, even with the brace. This man needs a doctor ASAP. And physical therapy.
Also on the note of PTSD, the incident with the blizzard definitely caused a lot of trauma. I like to think that cold temperatures tend to trigger him so he really doesn't like winter.
And my personal headcanon is that the whole Arcane glitching thing leaves him with migrane-like symptoms and a general sensitivity to magic and shit like that.
Overall, OP your brain is magnificent. Hope you get all the writing and/or art inspiration you ever wish for.
Smth smth i need more fics/discussion about disabled Jayce. I'm high on the disabled jayce cocain, im sorry
I know this man had diarrhea for days because he was eating fucking radioactive salamanders (that I don't think he even cooked properly) and drinking unclean water. His guts are fucked. He must've drastically lost weight, as well as having hair loss and early grey hair. He has ptsd. Smell of a raw meat OR rot just sends him into panic. NOT TO MENTION THAT HE ALREADY MOST SURELY HAD PTSD FOR NEARLY DYING IN A BLIZZARD AND THINKING THAT HIS MOM DIED SO I BET HE ALSO HAS A SEASONAL DEPRESSION. Light sensitivity... Twiches... Chronic pain....
And imagine Viktor WHO LITERALLY KNOWS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO SUDDENLY FIND YOURSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF A RAPID HEALTH DECLINE trying to just... be there. Tell him what he himself needed to hear all these years. Helps him to adjust to a new reality of not being able... well generally not being able bodied anymore
I want to explode them both.
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jungwnies · 2 days ago
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ASKING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO HELP YOU DECORATE THE HOUSE FOR XMAS 🎄
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 3094
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : it's finally xmas season & this one was so fun and cute to write i love it >.<
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ʚ・max verstappen
it was a couple weeks before christmas, and you were sitting on the floor, a box of ornaments and tangled lights in front of you. max was on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking entirely too relaxed for someone about to be recruited for decorating duty. you glance up at him, already preparing your argument.
“baby,” you say, dragging out his name a little.
he doesn’t even look up at first, just gives you a hum. “hmm?”
“i really want to decorate the house for christmas. the tree, the mantel… everything.”
that gets his attention. he finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “decorate? like, the whole house?”
you nod, trying not to laugh at his expression. “yes. it’s our first christmas here together, and it’ll be fun. please?”
he sighs like you’ve just asked him to do the impossible, setting his phone down and leaning back. “i’m going to be terrible at this,” he mutters, already standing up.
you grin and pat the spot next to you on the floor. “you’ll survive.”
turns out, he wasn’t exaggerating—max is hilariously bad at decorating. the lights are a disaster. he pulls them out of the box, only to end up with a massive tangle in his hands. “how does this even happen?” he grumbles, holding up the mess. “these things are worse than a bad strategy call.”
you laugh, reaching over to help. “just give them to me before you make it worse.”
then it’s the ornaments. he starts off just randomly putting them on the tree until he gets oddly picky about the placement. “you can’t put two gold ones right next to each other,” he says, moving one.
“since when do you care about ornament placement?” you tease.
“i don’t, but this looks wrong,” he says, smirking.
when it’s time for the star, he insists on lifting you so you can put it on top. “don’t fall,” he warns, steadying you with both hands.
“you’ve got me,” you reply, laughing.
later, as you both sit back and look at the finished tree, he shrugs like it’s no big deal. “it’s not terrible,” he says, but the small smile on his face tells you he’s secretly proud.
you let out a soft laugh and give him a kiss on the cheek, "it's perfect considering this is our first christmas together."
ʚ・lewis hamilton
it was a chilly december evening, and the house already smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine. you were standing in the living room, a box of decorations at your feet and the christmas tree still bare in the corner. lewis wandered in, his beanie still on from walking roscoe outside, and gave you a curious look.
“baby, you planning to do all that by yourself?” he asked, nodding toward the box.
“was kind of hoping you’d help,” you said, looking up at him with a playful grin.
he chuckled, stepping closer and taking off his beanie, his curls springing loose. “you know i’m terrible at this kind of thing, right?”
“you’ll be fine,” you said, pulling out a strand of lights. “besides, it’s about the effort, not perfection.”
he raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smile on his face. “you sound like you’re setting me up to fail.”
but, to his credit, lewis dove right in, untangling lights with the focus of someone preparing for a race. “these things are like tire warmers,” he muttered, holding up a hopeless knot.
“i don’t think pirelli makes christmas lights,” you teased, reaching over to help.
once the lights were on the tree—after much adjusting and a few laughs at lewis’ questionable wrapping technique—you moved on to the ornaments. he took his time with each one, carefully inspecting them like they were trophies, even asking about the stories behind a few.
“this one’s cute,” he said, holding up a small handmade ornament. “you make this?”
“when i was a kid,” you admitted, a little embarrassed.
he laughed gently as a slight smile spread onto his face. he help the ornament carefully, placing it near the middle of the tree. “it deserves a good spot.”
when it came time for the tree topper, lewis insisted on doing it himself. “gotta make up for my shocking lights performance,” he joked. he climbed onto a chair, carefully placing the star on top while you steadied him.
stepping back, the two of you admired the tree, the warm glow of the lights filling the room. lewis slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “not bad for a rookie decorator, huh?”
you leaned into him, smiling. “you did great.”
he kissed your temple, his voice soft. “it’s not really about the tree, you know. it’s about moments like this.”
and as roscoe wandered in, settling near the tree with a content sigh, you couldn’t help but think he was absolutely right.
ʚ・george russel
it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch with george, boxes of christmas decorations scattered around the room. the tree stood bare in the corner, waiting for some life to be added to it. george leaned back, one arm draped casually along the back of the couch, watching you as you sorted through ornaments.
“are we actually going to decorate today, or are you just going to stare at the boxes?” you teased, holding up a tangled string of lights.
he smirked, pushing himself off the couch. “alright, alright, i’m coming. but you know i’m terrible with the lights. they’re always a mess.”
you handed him the string, grinning. “well, you’re in luck. you’re tall, so you can deal with the top of the tree.”
george rolled his eyes playfully, taking the lights from you. “great. the perks of being tall. you get stuck doing all the hard jobs.”
“you’re lucky i’m not asking you to string lights outside,” you joked, sorting through the ornaments. “now, don’t mess it up.”
he stepped up to the tree, carefully draping the lights over the branches. “don’t mess it up,” he repeated in a slightly mocking tone, turning back to flash you a cheeky grin. “you’ve got a lot of faith in me.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “i do. just... don’t make it look like you threw them on blindfolded.”
george chuckled softly, finishing his work and stepping back to inspect it. “there. masterpiece. what do you think?”
you tilted your head, pretending to be deep in thought. “hmm... it’s not bad. i’d give it... seven out of ten.”
“seven?” he gasped, feigning offense. “love, that’s a solid nine at least.”
“if you say so,” you teased, holding up the star. “want to do the honors?”
he took it from you, carefully placing it on top of the tree. stepping back, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “there. now it’s perfect.”
you smiled up at him. “you know, you’re not so bad at this after all.”
“told you,” he said with a wink. “i’m a man of many talents.”
ʚ・carlos sainz
it was late afternoon, the golden light streaming through the windows as you wrestled with a tangled mess of christmas lights. carlos wandered into the living room, wearing his usual casual track pants, a hoodie, and that slight smirk he always seemed to carry.
“qué haces?” (what are you doing?) he asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you struggle.
you sighed dramatically, holding up the lights in defeat. “i’m trying to decorate the tree, but these lights have other plans.”
he chuckled, that low, warm laugh of his, and walked over to you. “ay, dios mío. you didn’t wait for me? i could’ve saved you from this mess.”
you raised an eyebrow at him. “oh, so you’re an expert at christmas lights now?”
“of course,” he said, grabbing the tangled strand from your hands. “i am el rey de las luces, the king of the lights." he gave you a wink, but within seconds, he had the lights in just as much of a mess as you did. “eh… maybe not.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “great job, amor.”
“oye, oye, don’t laugh. i’ll fix it,” he insisted, his accent thick as he focused on untangling the lights. his brow furrowed in concentration, the same look he wore when analyzing data back at the paddock. eventually, he managed to untangle the mess, holding up the lights triumphantly. “see? easy.”
stringing the lights around the tree became a team effort—or, more accurately, a comedy routine. carlos kept stopping to adjust them, stepping back every few minutes and tilting his head. “no, no, this side needs more. it’s like setting up the car—balance is everything.”
“you’re overthinking it, amor,” you teased, mimicking his accent slightly, which earned you a playful glare.
“cariño...don’t start with me,” he warned, pointing a light strand at you. “you want a perfect tree or no?”
when it came to the ornaments, carlos became surprisingly sentimental, asking about each one. “this one—where is it from?” he asked, holding up a little wooden angel.
“a market in my hometown,” you said. “my family bought it years ago.”
he smiled, carefully placing it near the top. “then it goes somewhere special.”
finally, the star. carlos insisted on doing it himself, grabbing a chair and climbing up with dramatic flair. “el momento más importante,” (the most important moment) he said, grinning as he carefully positioned the star at the top.
when he climbed down, he stepped back beside you, hands on his hips as he admired the tree. “mira. perfect,” (look. perfect) he said, nodding with satisfaction.
you glanced at him, smiling. “not bad for el rey de las luces.” you tease.
he looked at you, pretending to be offended. “eh, don’t disrespect the king.” then his face softened, and he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “but seriously… it’s nice, no? makes the house feel… like home.”
and with the glow of the tree lights reflecting in his warm brown eyes, you couldn’t agree more.
ʚ・charles leclerc
it was the weekend before christmas, and the kitchen smelled like cinnamon and sugar. you were trying your best to bake cookies, but the dough was a bit more messy than you expected. charles had just returned from his morning run, his hair still damp from the sweat, a towel casually draped around his neck. when he saw you, there was that warm smile—always so soft, so fond.
“hey, mon amour,” he said, his voice low and a little breathless, his accent as soft as the morning light streaming through the window.
“my love,” you smiled back, rolling your eyes playfully as you looked at the mess you’d made. “i think i need help here.”
he crossed the room with the grace of someone who was always in control, always in the moment. stepping behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “bien sûr, anything for you,” he murmured in your ear, the words full of that effortless affection he always seemed to have for you.
“really?” you teased, glancing up at him. “because if you burn these cookies, you’re doing all the decorations this year, including the tree.”
charles chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “je vais pas brûler les cookies, don’t worry, i’m a professional.” (i won’t burn the cookies)
“uh-huh, and what if i don’t want a professional? what if i want my boyfriend making cookies with me?” you grinned, nudging him lightly.
his eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “tous les jours avec toi sont parfaits,” he whispered, as if it was the most natural thing to say. (every day with you is perfect.)
you felt your heart flutter, your smile growing. “you’re making me all mushy inside,” you said, your voice quieter now.
“c’est toi qui me rends comme ça,” he replied, his voice filled with a sweetness that made everything feel softer. (it’s you who makes me this way.) you didn't really know any french, but these sweet words he said repeatively were easy for you to pick up.
he kissed the top of your head, then took the mixing bowl from your hands, stirring the dough with a calm focus. “you know, i was never good at this... but with you, it’s different. everything feels easy.”
you watched him with affection, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at you. there was something so deeply sincere about him, as if every word, every touch, every moment together felt like a promise. “i feel the same way,” you said quietly, heart swelling with love.
he stopped for a moment, setting the bowl down and gently cupping your face, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. “je t’aime tellement,” he whispered, his eyes locking with yours in that way that made everything else disappear. (i love you so much.)
“i love you too,” you replied, voice a little unsteady from how full your heart felt in that instant.
he kissed you then, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the kitchen, the cookies, even the christmas tree that waited in the corner of the room. it was just you and him, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you whispered when he pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“c’est simple, mon amour,” he said with a tender smile, his voice full of that same quiet certainty. (it’s simple, my love.) “you’re everything i never knew i needed, and more.”
and in that moment, as the soft twinkle of the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, you knew—you were exactly where you were meant to be.
ʚ・lando norris
it was a chilly evening, and you and lando were driving home from christmas shopping, the car packed with bags and decorations. you were both exhausted, but there was that festive excitement in the air.
lando glanced over with a mischievous grin. “so, what’s the plan for tonight? we’ve got the tree to decorate and i might need to save you from messing it up.”
you rolled your eyes. “oh really? you think you’re the master decorator now?”
“obviously,” he replied, grinning. “i’ve got amazing taste. no one’s topping my skills this year.”
“right,” you laughed. “because last year you couldn’t even get the star on top of the tree.”
lando gasped dramatically. “hey, that was one time! and you were totally distracting me with your light-wrangling skills.”
“sure, sure,” you teased as he parked in the driveway. “let’s see how ‘amazing’ you really are this year.”
once inside, lando eagerly got the boxes of decorations, already talking about how tonight’s tree would be perfect. “first, we do the lights, then the tinsel, and finally the ornaments. it’s a science, really.”
“a science?” you grinned, grabbing a string of lights to untangle. “sounds like something you made up to sound more impressive.”
“maybe,” he laughed, “but trust me, i’ve got this. no tangles, no mess. just perfection.”
you set to work, and as you both decorated, lando made everything feel fun. his jokes and playful banter had you laughing the entire time.
“just don’t break any ornaments this year, alright?” you warned, glancing over at him as he placed a glass bauble on the tree.
“no promises,” he winked. “but trust me, it’ll look perfect when we’re done.”
you smiled, already knowing he was right. with lando, everything—even decorating a tree—was a little brighter and a lot more fun.
“you’re ridiculous,” you teased, admiring the tree.
“but i’m your ridiculous,” he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “and that’s all that matters.”
ʚ・oscar piastri
it was a warm evening, and you and oscar were sitting on the balcony, the australian summer air soft and easy. the christmas lights shimmered faintly in the dimming light, but something about it still felt a little off.
“you know, it’s just weird,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “christmas in summer. i keep waiting for snow, but it’s... hot.”
oscar glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took a sip of his drink. “yeah, i get it,” he said quietly. “it’s different. but i think it’s kind of nice, you know? christmas in the heat, just feels... relaxed.”
you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i just can’t get used to it. christmas is supposed to be cold. cozy, with fireplaces and snow.”
“it’s still christmas,” oscar said, his tone calm and steady. “just... a little warmer, that’s all.”
you smiled, but still felt a bit out of place. “i can’t be the only one who thinks this is strange, though. there’s no snowball fights, no cold air... just heat.”
oscar chuckled lightly, leaning back and stretching out. “yeah, i guess. but, uh... christmas on the beach is pretty great too, you know? different, but good.”
you gave him a sideways glance, still skeptical. “how do you just... accept this? i feel like i should be wearing gloves and snow boots.”
he shrugged, his gaze soft but sure. “it’s just how we do it here. doesn’t make it any less christmas. you’ll get used to it.”
you looked at him, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “maybe... but i’ll probably be dreaming of a white christmas while i’m sweating in this jumper.”
oscar’s smile widened slightly, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours. “if you want, we can just have our own little cozy corner. christmas is about whatever makes it feel right, yeah?”
you leaned against him, feeling more at ease. “yeah... i guess so. still feels a bit weird though.”
“you’ll get there,” he said with a calm smile. “just gotta give it time. but hey, at least we’re together, right?”
you smiled, your heart warming in the quiet evening. “yeah, you're right. it’s still perfect with you.”
“and, if it helps,” oscar added, his eyes twinkling slightly, “we can make the house feel a bit more christmasy—like, wintery christmas, if you want. i’ll help you set up whatever you need.”
your face lit up at the idea. “you’d do that? really?”
“yeah, we can hang fake snowflakes, maybe throw some fairy lights everywhere... i’ll even wear an ugly christmas sweater if it makes you feel better,” he teased, his smile soft but sincere.
“that sounds perfect,” you said, feeling the warmth of christmas already starting to settle in. with oscar by your side, maybe this summer christmas wasn’t so strange after all.
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bloodfiendarling · 3 days ago
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𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹
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— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )
ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x
also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !
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pair — reader x jing yuan
wc — ~1k
contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful
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you couldn’t stand it.
the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.
you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.
what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.
you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.
“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”
he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.
“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”
you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.
but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.
the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.
“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”
“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.
“prove it.”
“wha–?”
“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.
“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”
“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”
jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.
he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…
“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.
he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.
you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?
jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.
you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.
“jing yuan, sir?”
a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”
those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..
you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.
he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.
“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”
why did you doubt him, even?
you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.
his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)
“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?
“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.
he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.
“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”
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hsr masterlist ♥︎
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briarscreek · 2 days ago
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task force 141 & their smart ass american informant grabbing lunch together
it was sometimes hard to make friends growing up. in middle school, no one wanted to pick you for any gym games because of how competitive you were. high school was a lost cause since no one could ever understand your jokes and sarcasm. you didn’t exactly give them any indication of which was which but that didn’t matter.
you finally escaped that feeling of being alone in a crowded lunch room when you joined the marines, but right now you are back to where you hated. standing before the cafeteria with your full tray trying to find somewhere to sit. maybe you could sit at the end of the 141’s table and they may not growl at you. you head over to them, hoping they’ll at least be courteous.
“you going somewhere yankee?”
“so this is the american bastard, oi? heard all about ya.”
your hair on the back of your neck stood up. like a porcupine you were ready to spread your spikes to shield yourself.
“wanna say that again recruit? last I checked, I’m actually a higher rank than both of you combined. thought you british boys respected authority?”
“your rank means piss all here.”
“oh piss all, really?”
and there they were, the 141 standing behind the recruits. price with his arms folded over his chest, gaz with his hands on his hips, johnny trying to keep it together, and simon just standing there but his presence alone is menacing enough.
“c-captain, we were—“
“toilet duties. two months. or maybe three months?”
“i was thinkin’ some laundry, maybe extra trainin?”
“oh they’re no’ gonna do well if they train wit’ ghost”
“i’d ‘appily do it captain”
message was clear that day: don’t mess with the american.
maybe you could be a little nicer next mission. they are your friends after all.
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horrorslvts · 2 days ago
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chris doesnt know how to change a tire 🤍
nsfw: car nsfw, no sex, switch chris and reader, female reader, breast play, making out, sweat, cum, fingering.
awful idea.
all of this was an awful idea.
you and chris wanted to celebrate him getting his drivers license by going on a trip to the beach with matt’s car. however, you didn’t think about the chance he would demolish his brothers car on your way back. now? youre wet, hot, almost dehydrated and drenched in your own sweat and salt.
you watch as chris tries repeatedly to turn the engine again and go somewhere, anywhere, but the car is limping more than you after a good fucking on a sunday night. you look over as the brunette goes out of the car, an after a few seconds comes back in the car hitting the door behind him.
“what is it?!”
you tell him loudly, on the verge of choking him with your own hands.
“flat tire!!”
he yells back at you and puts his hands on the wheel, allowing his head to fall between his arms. your eyes trace his salty and glued-together locks, and momentarily you want to grab them and rip them out his head from anger.
“you dont know how to change a t-“
“no y/n i was half asleep when matt was showing me that!”
chris rises his head from its hiding spot between his arms and looks at you with a pissed off expression.
“oh my god chris! how did you even get that damn license anyways-!”
you throw your head back as grunts are exchanged between you two, and you feel the sweat beading on your temples and making a beeline towards the veins on the side of your neck. you fish your phone out your denim booty shorts pocket and send a message to matt to come here asap.
“jesus christ it will take him like half an hour to get here-“ chris whispers beneath his own heavy breath as if you chose the worst possible solution to this mess.
“i know-!”
you officially decided it, your best friend is an absolute idiot and there was no explanation for it, he had been this way even before the almost heat-stroke you two were going through.a few seconds of silence make you sigh loudly.
”you good?” chris asks looking off into the distance of the sunny hill as he turns on the ac.
“just dizzy..”
you say back at him in a low, tired voice. you despise being hot, its your personal nightmare fuel. you lift your hand and place your fingertips in front of the car ac to cool your limbs down.
chris does the same and after half a minute of his hand getting chilly, he places it on your inner thigh in an attempt to cool you down and wake you up by snapping you out of your slumber.
“holy fuck chris-“
you let out with a gasp that was almost leaked out of a porn category, more so to the feeling of a large hand gripping your inner thigh than the temperature of his skin itself.
“shut up, you need to cool down.”
he says and looks ahead at the rocky landscape, his hand still tightly holding your soft salty skin.
you sit back on the car seat and cross your arms as you let him do his thing and look to the other side trying to hide the red blush across your cheeks. at worst case scenario, if asked you could blame it on the heat.
his thumb starts rubbing circular motions on your skin, occasionally playing with the rim of your denim shorts. you slowly creep your eyes from out the window towards chris and your gaze immediately spots the elephant in the room. your best friend had an erection that was visible as day beneath his trunks.
“uh chris-“
”i know. sorry, its tricky having my hand on your thigh and not letting my mind go places-ignore it.” he said completely avoiding to turn his head and look at you.
“places like..?”
god, why would you audibly ask that? some times you really wish you could hold your thoughts INSIDE your head like they are supposed to be.
“you really wanna find out?”
he turns to face you, tired eyes look at you in curiosity as they creep towards your thighs and you feel your parts tingle and your heart skip a beat. your silence was followed by a tiny shrug and nod, you could feel your lower lip trembling in need.after a few seconds his lips fell agape, surprised you didn’t immediately slap the audacity out of him.
he turns his head again to look elsewhere and starts sliding his hand upwards, slowly sliding down the zipper of your shorts. you feel your breathing get heavier, warmer and even though the ac is helping, your own body temperature is now playing tricks on you.
his fingertips fiddle with the fabric of your bikini and eventually slide their way under towards your warm skin. a little gasp makes your body slightly jolt upwards as you see the slight tent on his trunks grow and hear his breathing get heavier and head lower.
you hesitate but eventually let your hand travel towards his own thigh, and slowly touch his bulge. that makes chris immediately look at you and grab your wrist with his free hand.
“y/n dont make me do something we might regret.”
“..we can blame it on the heatstroke.” you say without thinking at all.
a slight silence follows and before you know it  chris frees both his hands to move you on his lap, letting your legs spread and find their way across the car. one on top of the steering wheel and the other stretched towards the passenger seat. his hard on your ass makes your face red and you instinctively move your thighs slightly, making chris groan and place his lips on yours.
you two start kissing like animals that are fighting over raw meat.
his tongue pushes yours, and you can feel his breath on your upper lip tremble. he lets out soft moan and groans as his fingers go under your bikini again, and without hesitation this time play with your clit
“f..fuck..” he mumbles under his breath and places his head to lean on your chest. his tongue then softly runs across the salty skin and he moans softly in pleasure before pulling down your bikini bra. your nipple peaks out just enough for chris to kiss and lick.
his teeth softly play with it as he looks up at you with the neediest eyes ever, like a puppy that is begging for your attention. his lips purse around your pink skin and he smiles while his tongue runs circles on your breast.
this is so overwhelming for you that you cover your mouth and lean back. his free hand holds your neck softly from the side and you can still feel him lick your breasts.
at this point you two were posed like a large instrument and the worlds most delicate musician in the world playing with it. only that the music was coming from your throats.his finger slides inside you and at the feeling of your warm and wet pussy he gasps.
“youre drenched..” he says in pleasure with a tone that reminds you of a whine. he proceeds to continue moving his finger inside you. in and out softly while his thumb is running circles on your clit.
”fuck..chris..”
”y/n i swear to god im gonna burst on my own fucking clothes-“ he says.
you believe him because you can feel his stomach raise and then drop from his breathing, and the hard feeling on your ass is now accompanied by him softly grinding his cock across your body.
you slightly look down to see the tip of his cock try to escape the rim of his waistband, and wet precum dripping from it and sticking to his skin.that view alone was enough to make you get even more wet on his fingers and feel yourself building up.
“chris im gonna-fuck im-“
he covers your mouth with his free hand, snaking it around your neck and shoulders and you feel yourself moving your body and fucking yourself on his fingers. you hold onto his hand and feel your nipple wet from his mouth again.
in between your orgasm, you feel him stop and lean his head on you as his fingertips start losing pace.after a few seconds you feel his hand slowly release of your mouth and you hear him breath heavily.
“..holy..fucking..”
you look down on your best friend only to see his stomach drenched in white, sticky cum. his dick is pulsating letting out the last drops of semen and you both are a salty, cummed on and sweaty mess.
then, the phone rings.chris, looking defeated reaches for the phone and picks it up on speaker, setting it on your thigh.
”yeah?” he says with a shaky breath.
“uh..did you guys..finish with your business so i can change your damn tire?” matt asks in a whispered tone.
you turn your head to see him only a few feet behind your car standing and looking elsewhere.
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bsturnzmtts · 3 days ago
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Older bf! Matt and sweetheart! Readers … First kiss
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Matt had invited you to his house while his brothers were out to bake cookies. You were excited to spend time together, completely focused on the fun of baking, and still oblivious to the fact that Matt had been flirting with you all along. Little did you know, he had something else in mind for the day…
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When you get to his house you knock on the door, excited for the activity he had planned.
Matt opens the door with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey," he greets softly, stepping aside to let you in. He closes the door behind you. "So, I thought we could make the classic, chocolate chip cookies”
“Hi, yeah that sounds perfect.” You say with a soft smile.
Smiling back at you, he leads you to the kitchen. "Come on, I'll get everything laid out." he says, taking out the ingredients and putting them on the counter. "I thought maybe we could make a little tradition of this."
“Yeah! We could even make them depending on the holiday. Like for Christmas we make gingerbread man cookies, for Halloween maybe we could decorate them on theme etc.” You say showing interest in his idea, and helping him out with the ingredients.
He leans against the counter, smiling at your excitement, and can't help but tease gently, "There you go again with your sweet ideas." He pulls out two aprons, one for each of you. "Let me put this on before we make a mess..." He puts his one on and then grabs the other one and walks closer to you to put it on.
You get slightly nervous when he gets close and puts on the apron on you. “We look funny in these.” You chuckle softly.
He chuckles too and ties the apron strings around your waist. "We do, don't we?" He says with a soft smile, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment before he steps back. "Now, let's get started on these cookies, shall we?"
“Let's get started” you agree. You guys start making the cookies, following instructions from a recipe you found online. You start adding and mixing ingredients.
As you work, Matt can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way you concentrate on the task at hand, the way your hair falls in loose waves around your face, and the way your lips purse slightly as you focus on measuring out the ingredients. But he can’t help wanting a little bit of extra fun. So he puts a bit of flour in his hands and spreads some on your cheek. “Opps, looks like you got something on your cheek.” He laughs.
“Maaatt!” You laugh. “I’m gonna get revenge.” You say as you try to do the same thing he did to you.
He dodges playfully, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh no, I don't think so!" He teasingly grabs your wrists just as you're about to flour him, pulling you slightly closer.
“Not fair” you mumble.
"Life's not fair." He teases back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you get me next time." He slowly releases your wrists but remains close.
“Just a tiny bit on your nose pleaseeeee” you ask with a smile.
He pretends to think about it, tapping his finger against his chin dramatically. "Alright, alright. But only a tiny bit, promise?"
“Yeaaaaah only a bit” you say, but take the opportunity and spread flour all over his cheek and a small dot in his nose as you laugh.
He laughs out loud, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You lied!" He wipes his hands on his apron. "Okay, I guess we’re equal now."
You guys laugh it out and continue with the cookies. Once the dough is done you put them straight in the oven.
“Okay! In 30 minutes we’re gonna have some amazing cookies” you say.
"Thanks to your excellent flouring skills." He teases, still wiping flour from his face. "You know, you're really good at this baking stuff." He compliments softly, his smile warm. "You're really good at a lot of things actually." He says as he steps closer leaving you in between the counter and him.
You get slightly nervous as he gets close again and can’t help but blush a little at his compliments. “Thank you.”
He notices your blush and softly reaches up to brush a slight smudge of flour off your cheek, his fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The way you react to his compliments makes him want to give you more, to see that pink spread across your cheeks again. "You don't have to be shy around me, you know?”
You get even more nervous and you look away. “I-… I’m not shy, I’m just-”
He tilts your chin up gently with his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "Just what?" He asks softly, his voice low and gentle. His eyes search yours, looking for the answer in their depths.
“Well… maybe a little shy,” you admit.
He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "A little shy?" He repeats, his thumb gently rubbing your chin. "I think you're more than a little shy." He teases gently. His eyes are locked with yours as he gets even more closer. “Can I kiss you?”
You’re shocked by his question. You don’t know what to answer. So you just slur out the first thing that came to your mind. “I- I’ve never kissed.”
His heart skips a beat at your response. He gently lifts his hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin. "You've never kissed anyone before?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Well what else could he expect from someone as innocent and shy as you, he thinks.
You shake your head feeling slightly embarrassed.
He smiles softly, his heart melting at your shy demeanor. "And here I thought you were just really good at playing hard to get." He jokes lightly. He steps even closer, one hand still gently pressed against your waist while the other cups your face. "Would you... let me be your first?" He asks, his voice tender and respectful.
A pink shade spreads through your cheeks as you feel even more nervous. But your head nods yes.
He lets out a soft sigh of relief as he gently leans in, his lips pressing softly against yours in a gentle, sweet kiss. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and care, as if he's treating something precious. His hand at your waist tightens slightly as he deepens the kiss gently. While you kiss back trying to mimic his movements.
A soft smile curls his lips at your innocent attempt to mimic him. He gently slides his hand up to cup the back of your neck, while keeping the kiss slow and tender. After a moment, he pulls back slightly to look at your flushed face. "Perfect.”
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childrenofcain-if · 1 day ago
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That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭
the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.
she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.
you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.
C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.
“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.
you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.
“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”
C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.
“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”
aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.
“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.
C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.
“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”
her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”
you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”
“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”
C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.
“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”
aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”
“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.
“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.
“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.
C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”
“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”
C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”
but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.
“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”
aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.
“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.
you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”
“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”
“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”
“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”
“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”
C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.
“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.
***
after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.
C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them��her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.
they watched her instead.
aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.
she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.
“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.
“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”
she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.
“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.
C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”
“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.
C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.
she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.
“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.
“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.
aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.
how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?
“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.
C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.
“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.
aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.
“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.
“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.
you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.
but it wasn’t that simple.
it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.
C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.
the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?
“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”
she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.
they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.
***
later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.
“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”
they sighed, looking up at you now.
“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”
you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.
“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”
they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”
“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”
C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”
you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”
they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.
“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”
“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
they scowled, burying their face in your neck.
“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”
you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
but you already knew the answer.
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stxrryskys · 2 days ago
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His way of apologizing
n/a: In which, he made you upset and feels really bad:( so he tries to make it up to you! By eating your pussy like a starved man!
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a/n: I feel like he would be a MUNCH he is definitely a MUNCH. Thank you, your honor. ENJOY! |
REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW..... SO REQUEST PLEASe
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C/w: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, soft Dom Daisuke, kinda mean reader in beginning, fingering, AFAB reader, use of the word panties.. Ik I'm sorry. lmk if I forgot anything!
Not proofread
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"C'mon dude! Why won't you just forgive me!" Your desperate bf pleaded, he was practically on his knees, you both were sitting in the lounge on the couch, the screen with the bright ass sun in your face wasn't helping with your frustration, neither was your boyfriend.
"First of all, I'm not your "dude" and second of all, quit apologizing becuz you don't even know what you did! " you couldn't help but raise your voice, you were angry, I mean, how could he? You were embarrassed, ashamed, and overall pissed!
So what did Daisuke do exactly. Well, poor baby got so excited when you guys first had sex he had to tell someone, he wanted to tell curly but he was always busy, Jimmy? No.... What about Anya! Hmm.. No.. That'd be awkward since she wasn't a guy- Swansea! Sooo.. He told Swansea, he told him about how amazing you felt and he even showed off the scratches you left on his back, he was so proud of himself and Swansea gave him a big pat on the back.. But jimmy overheard... Then he told curly.... Then curly blurted it out to Anya during a conversation sooo everyone knows.. What if they think you're a whore...Anyways! You were all in the mess hall, eating dinner when jimmy brought it up.
"You guys sure are two active bunnies, huh? " he said as he he took a bite of his soup
"Huh? What does that mean? " you asked so innocently, I mean, you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about
"I think he means the fact that you guys fuck alot. " Swansea then said.
what.
Oh my god oh my god- his fucking quarter walls were made out of steel so no fucking way someone could've heard them- daisuke had to have told them!
"Oh. And why are we bringing up our... Private habits? "
"Well Daisuke told everyone.. " Anya said quietly
What.
How could he? He knew that you wanted to keep your bedroom life private and he went against that and you were furious.
"Oh." Was all you said, everyone went on about their day like they hadn't just humiliated you, Daisuke didn't see anything wrong with it, goddamn ray of sunshine doesn't even see what he did wrong
Which brings us back to here. You sitting on the couch and him right next to you, his hands clasped together as he pleaded with you
"Look! I'm sorry for whatever I did! I just don't want you to be mad at me, love! "
"Well I'm mad! "
"But why? "
"You told everyone about our sex life! They fucking humiliated me at dinner tonight! And you didn't even do anything! You know I hate being put on blast and being put in the spot yet you said nothing! So pardon me if I'm upset! "
You crossed your arms as you raised your voice. Oh. That's why you were upset, god did he feel dumb. He just wanted to die, he didn't even realize how much he hurt you...
"Ah.. I-im sorry.. I uh.. I really didn't think you would mind! I should've talked to you about it.. And I'm sorry for not standing up and saying something I rea-
"Forget it, Daisuke! Honestly just fucking forget it! " you got up and speed walked to your quarters, you were so pissed you didn't even wanna hear about it.
Daisuke decided to just leave you alone for now. He felt dumb, he felt so awful, he never meant to make you feel that way, he sat on the couch thinking about ways to make it up to you and.. Bingo! This was perfect! He hopped up off the couch and went to your quarters, he gently knocked on the door, it's not like it was locked but he didn't wanna barge in.
"What do you want? " you said softly, you felt kinda bad for yelling at him
He opened the door and shut it behind him as he walked in. He walked to your bed, and toppled over you, his lips crashing into yours. Your eyes widened
"What the fuck- what the hell are you- " he interrupted you by kissing you again, it's not like you didn't want it you were just caught off guard
"Im *peck* sorry *peck* "
He kissed down your neck and stopped at the collar of your shirt
"Let me make it up to you, please? "
"Make it up to me how- AH! "
You gasped loudly as he basically ripped your pajama pants down and lifted up your legs to get them off of you, he threw them on the floor
"Jesus! What the-
"Hush.. Let me apologize to you.. " he opened your legs and positioned himself, like his whole body between them, his torso hunched over your lower belly as he placed small kisses over your neck
"Okay okay.. Fine.. "
He smiled against your neck, sucking softly on your supple skin, leaving a light pink mark, lifting up his head slightly and smiling at the mark he had left. He then tugged at your shirt and made you lift up your arms so he could take it off.
"You're so beautiful.. I.. God you're so perfect" he said as he stares lovingly into your eyes before dipping his head down to devour your breasts. He nipped at your sensitive nipples which were already hard from the cold air
It felt like an eternity passed while he was leaving light pink marks on your chest, he ran his tongue along your stomach and he moves his body down, his face just above the waistband of your panties, hooking his finger under.
"C-can I? " he looked up at you and you nodded.. "I wanna hear you say it.. Use your words please..? "
"Yeah.. G-go ahead.. " you nodded and be didn't have to be told twice, he tore your favorite panties off but, poor baby was just excited :((
He spread your legs further as he dipped his face between your legs, kitten licking your folds before turning his head to the side to kiss your inner thighs, leaving some marks before diving back into your pussy, immediately going in with his tongue. He flicked his tongue out and lemme tell you.. His tongue is sooooo long like.. Genocider Jill long..
As his tongue flicked out to go inside of you his teeth grazed your clit and you arched your back a little
"A-ah! Teeth- teeth Daisuke! " he didn't listen, more like he didnt hear you but can you blame him? He felt bad and was focused on making you feel better. It was only when he lifted his head up when you tugged on his hair. "Are you okay, love? " he looked up at you.. Your slick dripping down his chin, jeez.. Were you that wet?
"Y-your teeth.. "
"Oh shoot! I'm sorry! " thats all he said before he dipped his head back down, continuing to eat you, he brought his fingers up and pulled his head away for a couple of seconds and almost immediately inserted 2 fingers in you, thumb circling your clit as he pulled his head back in and continued.
The combination of his fingers and his tongue had you close, you grabbed his hair and that was his breaking point, he added a THIRD finger and curled them inside the part of you that needed him most.
"D-dai.. I'm close.. I-im gonna cum.. "
He nodded his head as if telling you to let go, you pulled his hair as you came undone all over his face, you know the walls are soundproof but if they weren't the whole ship would be awake
He pulled away after he lapped up all of your cum and slick, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. He put them up to his mouth and licked them clean before wiping them on his shirt. Then he wrapped his arms around you, his head resting on your lower belly.
.....
"Do you forgive m-
"Shut up, I forgive you.. "
"Yay! Awesome!! "
.....
"I love you"
"I love you too, Daisuke.. "
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I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS.
. The ending whas kinda rushed..
REQUESTS OPEN 👿
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dollyichi · 14 hours ago
Text
JUST SHUT UP!
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kirishima eijirou always talks you through it. maybe a bit too much. ᯓ★ 1.8k words. m—dni. f ! reader / established relationship / f!ngering / unprotected (don’t be like them!) / reader’s very impatient and a little mean / sappy in one bit / not proofread
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eijirou who’s doing his best to ignore his own cock that’s all twitchy and needy. already leaking with so much pre his cute red boxers had a big damp spot that you unfortunately couldn’t see. you’re laying on your chest with your ass up for him. face buried into the pillows as you bite into the cushion every time his fingers teased your hole.
however, he’s so fucking talkative it’s pissing you off. “baby you touched yourself lots didn’t ya?” he says with a huff, angling his fingers to that sweet spot you like so much. you groan into the pillow, grasping on the sheets. “you’re so wet and soft you don’t even realize i have three fingers in.”
“h-hahh! kiri just put i-it in… f-fuck-” you’re so sure your mouth is covered in your own spit from how long he’s kept you in that position. kneading your ass with one hand, fucking your pussy with the other. his fingers always felt better than your own and anything you use on it but it’s never enough when he can just fuck you with his dick.
“you mad at me baby? you don’t call me kiri remember?”
wasting so much time, unnecessary riling you up when you’ve been ‘so good’ for him preparing yourself so he could just jump you when he came over but no, he’s taking his sweet, sweet time prepping and fingering you as he pleased.
“don’t bite the pillow baby, i wanna hear you.” it’s so condescending almost. leaning over, whispering in your ear while his fingers continue to reach further and further. “come on, tell me how much you like it, wanna hear you some more.” this was probably the third time he’s ever fucked you ever since you’ve been together. the first time was nice, the second time was even better. a week has gone by and he was just so occupied that you made yourself busy.
you’re sick of doing it all alone and even when you mewl and whine, telling him whatever he’s doing ‘isn’t necessary anymore’ he refuses and tells you “awe hold on a little more i gotta do this for you baby~ just wanna take care of you.” and you huff and squeal, hiding your face away because you’ve really had enough. “searched up on it so i can make you feel even better.”
you really wonder how he gathered so much confidence in just a week when the past two encounters were him acting all shy. but then again, he could say the same for you. suddenly pulling him in a kiss and turning around so he could finally hold and touch you… though less holding as you wished.
he’s touched you so much you’re more sensitive than ever. you’ve lost all strength in your hands while you knees start to shake. “fuck baby your pussy’s so naughty. even louder than that pretty mouth of yours.” you don’t even know if your eyes are rolling back cause you’re so overwhelmed or frustrated. “you’re taking s’damn long eiji…” you croaked out, trying to lower your hips so you could turn around but he gets grip on you.
“hah… wanna fuck you so bad.” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers to get some type of release. “wanna do it like this baby? or you wanna see your boyfriend make a mess of you?”
“wan-want to see you… eiji… p-please?” you ask with tearful eyes, looking back at him while your mouth quivers. he immediately gives in when he sees the drool at the corner of your lips. he pulls out his fingers and it’s still so slow.
he turns you around with ease, laying you down properly. kissing you all over your face, moving your hair out of the way. “i’m sorry baby i teased you too much didn’t i?”
you click your tongue, “you’re a d-dummy.” he chuckles, bringing his hand to your face that’s covered in slick. “you looked so good i wanna eat you out.”
“i’ll kill you if you make me wait again.” you sneer.
he takes his cock out of his boxers, teasing them in between your folds while he sucked on his fingers. “hahh baby you taste so good.”
“bet you’re just gonna gush around my cock when i finally put it in.” you wished he just shut up. “look how easy my cocks gliding through, so damn wet.” god you really wanted to shut him up.
so you swat his hand away from his own cock, lining him up yourself and pushing slightly, already engulfing his tip inside. he’s already moaning when he gets the feel of your walls clamping around him. “n-no baby~ i didn’t get to put a condom!”
you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and he had no choice but to move. his inches getting further and further up inside. breathy moans escaped his lips cause you’re still so tight even when he fingered you longer this time.
when he’s fully in a whimper escape his lips. ducking his head at the side of your neck, staying still for just a little while because he was sure he was gonna cum right there. “s-shit… your pretty little cunt’s just so good for me baby. s’too good for me.” your wrap your hands around him. a hand rubbing the back of head. it was sweet, as if you were the one comforting him. but you never recalled caring even a little bit.
you move by yourself, bucking your hips upwards, making sure you feel all of him. “s-s’big eiji~” he hisses when he’s balls deep in. and you’re moaning so sweetly whenever his tip hit that extra special spot that only his cock can reach.
“hnghh no baby don’t move y-yet~ just wait a little bit-“ as if you were gonna listen to him like he refused you earlier. your grip on his is just so deliciously tight he’s really gathering whatever strength he has in his head to not cum. definitely not manly when his lover doesn’t cum first.
“please s-stop baby i’ll move okay? we’ll p-pace it out together.” and you don’t listen. again pathetically rutting up against him. but he stops you just in time with his hands on your hips. pushing it down while he tries to distract himself by the wallpaper you have in your room.
you groan in his ear, whispering how much you needed him. complaining about how much he teased you, how he’s wasting so much time. “eiji just fuck me.” god even your voice alone’s gonna make him cum.
eijirou takes a breath through his nose, proceeds to leave kisses at the sides of your head as he finally thrusts.
in and out, in and out. you’re already scratching at the skin of his back. “h-ahh you love this baby? w-when i- when i f-fuck you like this?”
you hum, knowing your voice would break if you even muster up a sentence. your eyes flutter when he angled his hips. he’s just so deep inside. “could do this forever you know? fucking into your pussy.”
“pretty baby say my name so i can fuck you e-even harder.” he grunts. breathy and short while he’s busying his mind. it was a week for him you know? a week without you—he didn’t think he’d be this reactive to you. “e-eiji~” it’s so adorable to think how you were acting all mean earlier. “mhm baby. gonna fuck you so well to make up for lost time.”
eijirou’s jaw clenches with every thrust, building up the momentum, hips rolling against your that has you weaker and weaker. the sounds of your sex all wet and gushing around the room while the creaks of the bed echoed. you were sure of it that if any of your next-door neighbors were at home they’d hear you both fucking like rabbits. he’s fucking into you so hard you’re almost worried that the headboard would snap in half.
“i love you so much baby.” he’s so damn cute. you couldn’t help but sniffle on his shoulder. burying your face at the crook of his neck while he continued to exclaim his affection.
you admit, your impatience was just a facade under all that sadness you built up over the week. one message a day, no calls, an empty bed space, a lonely dinner—you’ve missed him so much. touching yourself was even worse because all you could see when you close your eyes is your lover talking to you. finally in such a warm embrace you’re hearing him. but in your defense, he just talks to much (you don’t hate it though!)
just a few more thrusts you knew the tight knot in your tummy’s going to snap any second. the more frantic you’re grasping onto him the easier he knew just how close you were. “tell me how it feels baby~”
“i love it!” was all that got out of you. repeatedly in between soft screams and whines. sobbing underneath him while you’re waiting for your release. “th-think i’m gonna cum too baby.”
“k-kiss… together…” he smiles, cupping your face to kiss you. smashing your lips against each other.
hips start to stagger. thrusts getting sloppier, sounds getting wetter. you’re both moaning on each other’s tongues that you had to pull away, “hnnghh! cumming! eiji!”
“i’m here baby, i’m here, let it all out. cum for me- cum for me baby.” and it hits you, crying out while you pull him onto your chest, walls gushing and twitching around him who’s fucking you through your orgasm. “you’re so perfect fuck.” his breath hitches when you clench around him again. your eyes continued to flutter, still in your own high.
“just a little more okay?” you whimper, this time no longer able to respond verbally. letting him use you despite how much it’s overwhelming you, how you could feel your slick and his tip hitting with his every movement, how his skin turned sticky against your because of the sweat.
kirishima rolls his hips a little more before pulling out swiftly. pulling you in a kiss while he jerked himself off, “gonna- g-gonna cum baby.”
you’re getting all worked up again seeing him desperately jerking himself off. “you’re so sexy eiji.” was the last thing he heard before his cock squirting pretty thick white lines of his cum on your tummy.
he plops down beside you and you play with the cum on you, slowly scooping them up with two fingers, sucking them off on your mouth and eijirou watches you with a gulp.
teasingly you tell him, “awe eiji~ you taste so good.” returning the ‘favor’ from earlier. he’s put himself in a trap, all out in the open like this. you just had no choice but to eat him all up again, this time with his mouth shut.
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do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : ohmygod writing this was like... i was in a trance. pls do not mind the minor mistakes it's like just typing one word after the other i just wanted to let this out!!!!! anyways i miss him so much actually can we please talk about him more >< also tried a gray theme for this one lmk if it’s nice ><
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bangchansdirty-slut · 1 day ago
Note
Hii, I often read your stories and I really like them. I was wondering if you could do a shy and very feminine female reader doing it for the first time with an experienced G!P Momo please
Listen to Unnie
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Paring: Top!Momo x Member!Bttm!Reader
Genre: Smut
Requested
More: Masterlist
A/n: This is one of two fanfics I'm posting today. I won't be taking any more requests until I finish the ones I already have in my drafts, which are currently collecting dust. You can still make requests, but please keep in mind that they probably won't be written and posted for a while.
Also, can you believe it’s been a whole year since my first fic? I just wanted to give a huge thank you to all of you for supporting me and my writing. It means the world to me!
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The practice room was filled with the faint scent of sweat and the lingering aroma of freshly applied makeup, the air thick with the anticipation of their upcoming comeback. Y/n, dressed in a baby pink hoodie and matching shorts, nervously fidgeted with her fingers. She looked up at Momo, who was casually leaning against the wall with one hand in her pocket and the other playing with the hem of her black tank top.
Momo's eyes sparkled with mischief as she took in the flustered state of the youngest member. She sauntered over to the couch and plopped down."Come on, Y/n, let's go over that part of the choreography again," she said with a grin, Y/n's cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
Y/n got back into position, her heart racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that Momo had something more than practice on her mind, but she brushed it off as nerves. She started to run through the routine, her movements tentative and unsure. Momo watched intently, her gaze flickering between Y/n's face and her ass, which was bouncing slightly with each step. As the beat dropped, Y/n froze. She had messed up the sequence again, and she could feel Momo's eyes burning into her.
Momo stepped closer, her body heat enveloping Y/n. "You're too stiff," she murmured, her breath hot against Y/n's ear. "You need to relax and feel the music." Before Y/n could react, Momo's hand was on her hip, guiding her through the steps, their bodies moving in sync. The friction between them grew, the air crackling with an undeniable tension that neither of them could ignore.
The older idol leaned in, her soft pink lips brushing against Y/n's, surprising the youngest member. Y/n's eyes widened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she melted into the kiss, her inexperience shimmering like a new star in the vast sky of Momo's expertise. Momo's hand traveled up to the back of Y/n's neck, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together, exploring each other with a gentle yet insistent curiosity.
Breaking the kiss, Momo's eyes searched Y/n's, looking for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, she smiled, her teeth slightly grazing the younger girl's bottom lip. "You're so sweet," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr.
Y/n's heart thudded in her chest as she felt Momo's hand slip under her hoodie, her fingers tracing the soft skin of her stomach before moving to untie the drawstring of her shorts. With surprising deftness, Momo pulled them down, leaving Y/n's cute little panties as the only barrier between her and the cool air of the practice room. Y/n gasped as Momo's hand cupped her, feeling her warmth and the dampness that had pooled there.
Momo's eyes never left hers as she leaned in to nip at her bottom lip, a playful smirk on her face. "You're so wet, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Does the thought of me making you feel good turn you on?"
Y/n nodded, her voice a barely audible whisper. She was lost in the moment, unsure of how they had gone from rehearsing to this, but she didn't want it to stop. She could feel the heat of Momo's body, her breath, her touch. It was intoxicating.
Momo's hand slipped into the waistband of Y/n's panties, her long, slender fingers sliding down to stroke the wetness that had gathered between her folds. Y/n's breath hitched, and she felt her knees wobble slightly. Momo chuckled, the sound low and warm, before her thumb found its way to Y/n's clit. She began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles, her eyes never leaving the younger girl's face as she watched for any signs of discomfort or pleasure.
Momo led Y/n over to the couch, their bodies still entwined. She sat down, gently pushing Y/n's knees apart and settling herself between them. With a smoldering gaze, she leaned in to kiss her again, their tongues tangling together as she continued to tease her clit. Y/n's breaths grew ragged, and she could feel herself getting closer to the edge.
"Momo, I've never… done this before," Y/n stuttered, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement.
Momo paused, her hand hovering over Y/n's trembling thigh. "It's okay, Jagiya," she assured her, her voice velvety and soothing. "I'll take care of you. Just listen to Unnie." She gently eased the fabric of Y/n's panties aside, revealing the soft pinkness beneath. Y/n's eyes fluttered shut as Momo's mouth descended upon her, kissing and licking a trail down her stomach.
Momo's tongue flicked over Y/n's clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Y/n gasped, her hands reflexively reaching for Momo's hair. She was unsure of what to do, but the feeling was so overwhelmingly good that she didn't care. Momo's mouth closed over her, suckling gently at first before increasing the pressure. Y/n's hips bucked, and she let out a soft moan, her body responding instinctively to the older girl's ministrations.
Momo looked up, her eyes dark with desire, and whispered, "You're doing so well, just keep letting go." She inserted a single finger into Y/n's tight pussy, the wetness allowing for easy entry. The youngest member's eyes widened, but she didn't protest. Instead, she began to rock her hips in time with Momo's movements, the sensation of being filled both thrilling and terrifying.
Momo's eyes locked onto Y/n's, her gaze intense and unwavering. "Tell me if it feels good," she encouraged, her voice thick with want.
Y/n nodded, her eyes glazed over with pleasure as Momo's tongue swirled around her clit. Each flick and suck sent waves of sensation crashing through her, and she couldn't hold back the soft, feminine whimpers that escaped her lips. The feeling was so new, so overwhelmingly good that she didn't know how much more she could take.
Momo's eyes grew darker with every sound Y/n made, her own arousal evident as she worked her finger in and out of the younger girl's tight pussy. She curled it slightly, finding that special spot inside her, and Y/n's body responded with a shudder. "There it is," Momo murmured, her voice full of satisfaction. She knew she had found Y/n's G-spot.
Y/n's breathing grew more erratic as Momo's finger danced inside her, the pleasure building into a crescendo. Her body tensed, and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm wash over her. She was about to ask Momo to stop, but the words got caught in her throat as Momo added a second finger, stretching her even further.
"M-Momo," she managed to stutter out, trying to push her head away, but her legs only tightened around Momo's neck, drawing her closer.
Momo chuckled against her sensitive flesh, the vibration sending another shockwave through her body. "You don't have to hold back, baby," she encouraged, her voice muffled by the fabric of Y/n's panties. "I want to hear you."
With a final, desperate attempt to maintain her dignity, Y/n buried her face in the cushions of the couch, muffling her cries. But it was no use; the pleasure was too much. Her body spasmed, and she squirted into Momo's eager mouth, soaking her. Momo groaned in pleasure, the taste of Y/n's arousal driving her wild. She didn't stop, licking and sucking until the youngest member's legs were trembling and she was whimpering for mercy.
Pulling away, Momo's eyes were alight with passion as she surveyed her handiwork. Y/n's pussy was red and swollen, glistening with a mix of sweat and desire. The young idol looked up at her, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. Momo smirked, standing up to reveal the tent in her own shorts. "Looks like you liked it," she said, her voice playful.
Y/n couldn't help but nod, her eyes never leaving Momo's face. "What's next?" she asked, her voice shaky with anticipation.
Momo leaned back, a smug smile playing on her lips as she assessed the situation. "Well, we can't have you lying there like that and not do anything about it," she said, her eyes darkening with desire. She reached down and adjusted the bulge in her shorts, making it clear what was next.
Y/n felt a thrill of excitement and fear at the same time. She had never seen Momo like this before, so confident and commanding. It was a stark contrast to the sweet, supportive unnie she knew from their group activities, but it was incredibly alluring. She watched as Momo unbuttoned her shorts, her eyes never leaving Y/n's.
Momo's cock was revealed, and Y/n's eyes widened at the sight of it. It was a beautiful shade of pink, glistening with lubricant and standing tall. The older member stepped closer, her hand caressing the shaft gently. "Ready for the main act?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.
Y/n nodded, her curiosity piqued. She had never seen anything like it before, but she trusted Momo implicitly. The Japanese idol positioned herself over Y/n, her cock pointing at the juncture of her thighs. "Just relax," Momo murmured, her hand sliding up to cradle Y/n's face. "I'll go slow."
With that, she began to press her cock against Y/n's opening, the tip sliding through her folds and coating it in her arousal. Y/n gasped, the sensation foreign yet exhilarating. She felt the head of Momo's cock nudge at her entrance, and she tensed up instinctively. "It's okay," Momo whispered, her thumb tracing soothing circles on Y/n's cheek. "You're so tight, baby."
Momo pushed in gently, inch by inch, her cock stretching Y/n's tightness. Y/n's eyes squeezed shut, and she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. It hurt, but it was a pain that seemed to meld with the pleasure, creating a cocktail of sensations that was intoxicating. "Relax," Momo murmured, her free hand resting on Y/n's hip, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she began to rock her hips.
Slowly, so slowly, the pain gave way to a delicious fullness. Y/n's body started to adjust, her muscles wrapping around Momo's cock like a warm, wet embrace. She felt a sense of awe, of being filled in a way she had never been before. Momo's movements grew more deliberate, her eyes never leaving Y/n's face as she watched for any signs of distress or discomfort. But all she saw was the youngest member's trust and willingness to experience something new.
The room was a symphony of soft gasps and muffled moans as Momo began to pick up the pace, her hips moving in a steady rhythm. Y/n's leg remained draped over Momo's shoulder, granting her deeper access, while her other hand held onto the armrest of the couch tightly, knuckles white with the effort of staying still. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure rippling through her body, and she couldn't help but whimper with every penetration.
Momo leaned down to capture Y/n's lips again, her own breathing ragged. Their kisses grew more urgent as the pace of their lovemaking increased. Y/n's hands roamed up Momo's back, feeling the slickness of sweat and the firmness of muscle beneath her fingertips. The older member's cock filled her completely, stretching her in the most delicious way possible, and she found herself matching Momo's movements, her hips rising to meet each powerful thrust.
Momo's hand traveled back down to Y/n's clit, her thumb resuming the relentless circles that had brought her to the brink before. Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned into their kiss, the sensation of being touched there while filled so completely overwhelming. She felt a second orgasm building, stronger than the first, and she clung to Momo, her nails digging into her back as she whispered, "D-on't ssstop."
Momo's rhythm grew erratic as she felt Y/n's pussy clench around her cock, the younger girl's body shaking with the force of her climax. She groaned, the vibrations sending a shiver down her spine as she continued to pump into her, eager to reach her own peak. "You're so good," she murmured, her voice strained with passion. "So, so good."
Their kisses grew sloppier, their breaths mingling in a desperate dance. Y/n's eyes searched Momo's, a silent question hanging between them. Momo read the unspoken words, the need for reassurance, and whispered, "It's okay, Jagiya. I've got you."
With that, she pushed into Y/n one final time, burying her cock as deep as it would go. Y/n felt the warmth of Momo's release flood her, the sensation sending her own body over the edge once more. She screamed into the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut, as waves of pleasure washed over her. Momo's thrusts grew shallower, her breathing ragged as she rode out her orgasm, her fingers still working Y/n's clit with an expert touch.
They lay there for a moment, their bodies entwined and trembling with the aftershocks of their shared climax. The room was silent except for the sound of their labored breaths and the distant thump of music from the neighboring practice room. Momo pulled out slowly, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she did so. She leaned down to press a soft kiss to Y/n's forehead, her hand still resting between her legs, feeling the last of her spasms subside.
Y/n felt a warmth spread through her that was different from the passion that had just consumed her. She was surprised to find that she felt safe, protected even. She looked up at Momo, her eyes filled with a mix of awe and love. "That was…" she trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the intensity of the experience.
Momo chuckled, a warm sound that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. She leaned in to kiss her again, this time more tenderly. "It's just the beginning, baby," she whispered against her lips. "But for now, let's clean up and get you dressed."
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sillymommy6969 · 1 day ago
Text
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕴 LOVE YOU
Megan Skiendiel x fem!reader
summary: megan’s been best friends with y/n since day 1. they got each other through dream academy together and they were experiencing success side by side. but when y/n starts getting a little more intimate with sophia, megan seems to realize things about herself she hadn’t noticed before…
warnings: angst!! harsh language, some real hard pining
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Megan had always been good at hiding her feelings. It came with the territory of being in a band, where emotions could complicate the already delicate balance of creative and personal dynamics. But when it came to Y/N, her best friend and older member of Katseye, hiding her feelings had become more than a skill—it was a necessity.
She didn’t remember exactly when it started.
Maybe it was during one of their late-night songwriting sessions, where Y/N would sit cross-legged on the floor of HYBE’s studio, her hair a mess but her eyes alight with passion. On some nights when she couldn’t sleep, the woman would just sit and tinker with whatever she had to work with, and sometimes, Megan would join her.
Or maybe, it was when the two of them were sitting in the theatre with the girls watching a horror movie. They had paired off and Y/N desperately begged for the two of them to sit together. Whenever a jumpscare would pounce onscreen, the older woman would grab onto the redhead’s arm.
Megan caught herself hearing her heart drum against her ears as Y/N’s hot fingertips danced down her arm. Her head would lay on the Chinese dancer’s shoulder, and they were practically teased the whole of that week for being such a couple.
What Megan did know was that by the time Y/N started dating Sophia, it was already too late.
It wasn’t that Sophia wasn’t a good person. In fact, she was one of Megan’s closer relationships in Katseye. She was talented, driven, and had a maternally gentle nature that kept everyone grounded. She made Y/N laugh in a way that lit up the entire room, and Megan hated how much she noticed.
Tonight, the band had gathered at their shared studio for a casual rehearsal, then turned hangout. Sophia and Y/N were seated on the couch, the leader’s arm around the woman’s shoulder as they laughed over something on Y/N’s phone. Megan sat across the room, her guitar in her lap, strumming absentmindedly as she tried not to watch them.
It was harder than it should have been.
“Earth to Megan,” came a voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Lara waving a hand in front of her face. “Dude, you’ve been playing the same chord for, like, five minutes. It’s driving me nuts.”
Megan set her guitar down onto her lap. “Oh, my bad,” she said, adjusting her position on the couch. “I zoned out.”
“Zoning out or zoning in?” Daniela, who strolled over to plop down beside the redhead, asked, her voice low enough that only she could hear. Her eyes flicked briefly toward the couch, and Megan’s heart sank.
Lara wasn’t the only one who had noticed, then.
“I’m fine,” Megan said quickly, shooting them a look that begged for both of them to drop it.
But Lara wasn’t about to let it slide. She was tired of watching the redhead stare longingly at the band’s couple. It was taking away her energy in the studio, at home, and even at dance practices—which Megan loved most. She crossed her arms and gave her a pointed look.
"Megan, we’re not idiots. You’ve been distracted in every rehearsal. Your playing’s been off, and you don’t give as much energy at practices. That’s not normal for you." She leaned in a little closer. "Is it about Sophia?"
At the mention of Sophia’s name, Megan’s stomach twisted. She thought of the easy way Sophia was always around Y/N, guiding her, supporting her. Sophia deserved Y/N’s full attention and loyalty, didn’t she? So why did her mind always return to her best friend?
Megan swallowed, forcing herself to meet Lara’s eyes. "No, no, it’s nothing like that."
“So it’s about Y/N?” Daniela chimed. "You’ve been really distant with her, which is insane because ya’ll are always together and it’s usually super suffocating. You’re not yourself, and we just want to make sure you’re okay."
Megan’s chest tightened. She opened her mouth to protest, to tell them she was fine, but the words got stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to admit what she was feeling. She didn’t want to confront the truth that was too messy, too complicated. But how could she keep pretending? How could she keep ignoring what was growing between her and Y/N?
Lara’s voice broke through her thoughts again. "What’s up, Megan? And be for real with us.”
Megan finally let out a long breath, looking down at the guitar in her lap. She couldn’t lie to them forever. Maybe they already knew. Maybe they could see through her better than she realized. But it was still so uncomfortable to unpack it.
"I don’t know what’s going on," Megan admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air. "I think... I think I’m just confused. And I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m fine, guys. I swear.”
Daniela and Lara exchanged a look, but neither of them pushed. Instead, Daniela placed a gentle hand on Megan’s shoulder, rubbing it with her fingers. "You don’t have to figure it all out on your own. Just talk to us. We’ll help you sort it out."
Lara nodded, her usual demeanor softened. "Yeah, we got you. Whatever it is, you don’t have to keep it inside."
Megan looked up, meeting their eyes. She felt a lump form in her throat. "I don’t know if I can fix it," she muttered. "I don’t even know if I want to fix it. I just feel... stuck. And I hate feeling like this."
"You’re not stuck," Lara said firmly. "You’ve always been the one who knows exactly what she wants, Meg. But sometimes... sometimes we’re faced with things that make us question what we thought we knew." Her voice softened. "It’s okay to be confused. It’s okay to need time to figure things out."
Megan let out a shaky breath, her mind racing. It felt like the ground beneath her was shifting. She had always been the one with a clear direction, someone who knew what they wanted. But now, everything felt tangled, uncertain.
She had feelings for Y/N.
Feelings she hadn’t expected to develop—feelings she couldn’t just erase. And then there was Sophia, who was her friend and took care of her when she was struggling with her career. She couldn’t break that, could she?
It wouldn’t just be betraying her bond with her band mate, but the one with her best friend too.
Lara raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with Daniela. Neither of them pushed further. Instead, they turned their attention to the others. “Are we running through the new song, or what?”
From across the room, Y/N had slipped her phone back into her pocket. Sophia was staring at the woman under her arm, but Y/N’s searching gaze landed on Megan.
And when their eyes met, the older member beamed at the redhead. It was moments like this that gave Megan undeserved hope, moments she really wanted to believe Y/N only had eyes for her, when everybody else had eyes on her.
“Let’s do it,” Y/N said, grinning as she stood.
Y/N stood, leaving Sophia’s arms as she strode over to where Megan sat. Daniela and Lara moved so the woman could make room for herself, slotting her body between Daniela and Megan on the couch. The older’s hand brushed against Megan’s arm, then down to the guitar.
Megan swore her cheeks looked bright red just then.
Sophia didn’t seem to pay them any mind, and Megan hated the fact she was so hyperaware of the leader’s every move. She wished she could be as confident and secure as Sophia, being able to just exist as their own person without worrying about their feelings. She felt guilty, so guilty it was eating her alive. Almost like she knew she was wrong to be thinking about the way her best friend’s body was pressed against her on the couch, staring at her as if she’d hung all the stars in the sky.
She wanted—no, needed to believe it was somewhat real.
That she wasn’t totally insane thinking there was something.
As the group broke into song, lead by Manon on a base and Megan on the guitar, their voices blended together. Singing harmonies with Y/N always felt like magic, Megan loved the way their voices bled into each other in a way that was almost instinctual. But tonight, every glance Y/N threw her way, every smile, felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.
After a few hours, they wrapped up for the night. Sophia suggested heading to a nearby bar to unwind, and everyone agreed. Megan hesitated, but the idea of going home to sit alone with her thoughts felt even worse.
At the bar, the group settled into a booth, ordering drinks and laughing over inside jokes. Megan tried to join in, but her attention kept drifting to Y/N and Sophia.
Y/N would make a joke, and in her blinding fit of excitement, she’d get too caught up in something Sophia had said and miss the way Megan opened her mouth to mention something.
At one point, Y/N turned to Megan, her smile bright.
Almost like she was mocking Megan.
When their round of drinks (and Yoonchae’s soda) was nearly downed clean by the girls, Y/N offered to go order everybody another round. Her soft hand shelled Megan’s, for the first time that night, urging her to follow to have a moment alone.
“Hey, you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.”
Megan’s chest tightened at the concern in Y/N’s voice. She nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just tired. I’ve been sleeping on my neck kinda weird lately or something.”
Y/N frowned slightly, her brow furrowing. “I have the spine adjusting pillow thing. I wish you would’ve told me, I would’ve given it to you in a heartbeat.”
“I know,” Megan said softly, her gaze dropping to her drink. That’s the problem, she thought.
She was slightly taken aback when she felt warm fingertips run along her neck. She flinched at the sudden contact, earning a look of concern from Y/N.
“Okay, something’s wrong. You’re all… jumpy.”
Megan scoffed, cackling forcefully as her whisker dimples appeared. She shook her head, “No, no, it’s all good, seriously. Nothing’s wrong, I promise you.”
“Then let me check your neck, red.”
Red was such a stupid nickname. It was a stupid nickname when Y/N gave it to her after getting her hair dyed, and it was a stupid nickname now. She hated hearing it. She hated it. She hated hearing Y/N say it. She hated it so much, she wish she could just hear her say it one more time then never again.
When Y/N reached for her neck again, she didn’t say anything. She felt her own skin burn with each tap of her fingertips.
Y/N massaged the kinks she didn’t even know she had out of her neck. The warmth of Y/N's hands seeped through her skin, and for a moment, everything else—the noise of the bar, the hum of the blaring music—disappeared. It was just Y/N, her steady hands working magic on the tension in her muscles, and something inside Megan churned the same way it did the few times they were alone together recently.
The older woman’s touch was so gentle, but their hands were firm, assured. Megan’s breath caught in her throat as Y/N massaged deeper, easing the tightness with a practiced touch.
There was something so intimate about it.
She wondered if Y/N would do this for Sophia, if the leader came out and said she was sleeping on her neck wrong, would Y/N be as eager to help soothe her neck?
Megan closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh as the tension slowly melted away, but her mind was racing. Her heart beat faster with every second Y/N’s fingers lingered on her skin, and it was then—right there at the quiet section of the bar—that it hit her like a wave.
She wasn’t just grateful. She wasn’t just feeling affection.
She was in love with Y/N. With her best friend.
The realization was sharp, unexpected. Megan pulled in a breath, but it was like the world had tilted just slightly, making everything feel more vivid, more intense.
Y/N’s voice broke through her thoughts, their hands pausing as they asked, “How’s that? Better?”
Megan opened her eyes, but her breath was a little unsteady. She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. She couldn’t bring herself to look Y/N in the eye. “Yeah... a lot better. Thanks.”
Y/N gave her a grin, their hands lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. "Anytime, red."
But as Y/N returned to their spot, Megan sat still, the weight of her own heart pulling her deeper into something she hadn’t expected. She had fallen for them, and it had happened in the quietest, simplest of moments. And now, she wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings she couldn’t untangle.
The night wore on, and eventually, the group began to disperse. Manon and Daniela were adamant in going out to more clubs, Lara and Yoonchae were going to carpool back home after a stop at the convenience store. And eventually, it was just Y/N left behind, looking out for the redhead who refused to join any of the other groups. Sophia lingered behind for her girlfriend, but also eyeing Megan in question, beckoning her for an answer about her plans for the night.
“You need a ride home, Megan?” Sophia asked.
“You two go ahead,” Megan said, waving them off when they offered to share a cab. “I’ll walk. I need some air.”
Y/N hesitated, her eyes searching Megan’s face as if trying to read between the lines. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Megan said, her voice firmer than she felt. “I’ll see you guys at home.”
She watched them leave, Y/N’s arm linked with Sophia’s, their laughter trailing behind them. When they had disappeared around the street corner, Megan decided to stay at the bar for a while longer, nursing a drink in her hands and replaying the night in her mind.
By the time she made it back to the dorm, the place was empty and quiet. It was well past midnight and she could hear Manon snoring from downstairs.
She sat on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
The door creaked open, startling her. She turned to see Y/N stepping out from her and Yoonchae’s room, sporting one of Megan’s hoodies.
Fuck, she looked so good. How could she look so good?
“Y/N?” Megan said, sitting up. She watched the older circle around the couch to stand just inches under front of her. “What are you still doing up? It’s super late.”
“It is,” Y/N said, her eyebrows furrowed, “But I couldn’t sleep because I didn’t hear you come back.”
Megan’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed thickly, looking away. “I just… went on a joyride,” she said quickly, though her voice lacked conviction. “It’s not a big deal.”
Y/N sighed, sitting beside her.
“I know you so much better than you think I do, red. You’ve been lying to me, and I didn’t want to press, but you’re not giving me anything to work with and I’m getting real worried about you.” Y/N confessed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “I get it, you can work at your own pace, I don’t want to pry, but you’ve been off. You’ve been lying to me, you haven’t been giving your all in rehearsals and you’ve been coming home late a lot when we have nights off. So for once, just tell me the truth, Megan.”
Megan hesitated, her mind racing. She could lie, brush it off again, but the weight of her feelings was too much to bear.
“I...” Megan began, her voice faltering. She took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. “I have feelings for someone. And it’s... complicated.”
Y/N’s eyes softened, and she reached out to squeeze Megan’s hand. “Hey, that’s great,” she said gently. “You can tell me.”
Megan shook her head. “That’s the thing. I can’t.”
Y/N’s grip on her hand tightened. “Why not?”
Megan met Y/N’s gaze, her heart pounding. Her fingers fidgeted. “Because it’s you, and I don’t want it to be.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and irrevocable. Y/N’s eyes widened, her expression shifting to something unreadable. Regret rammed straight into Megan like a truck.
“Megan,” the older said softly, her voice barely audible.
“I know you’re with Sophia,” Megan said quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I would never do anything to come between you two. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way. It’s been eating me alive. Fuck—just forget I said anything, okay? It’s so stupid and I just… fuck.”
Y/N’s silence was deafening, and Megan’s stomach twisted.
“Just—I’m sorry,” Megan sighed, feeling the gravity of her words blow straight back into her face. “Fuck, seriously, just forget it. I should’ve never said anything.”
She stands to leave, pulling her hands away from Y/N’s.
“Megan, wait—”
But Megan was already at the door of her and Lara’s shared bedroom, her hand on the handle. The door closed behind her, leaving Y/N to simmer alone in the aftermath.
She didn’t know what would happen next—if Y/N would tell Sophia, if the band dynamics would crumble, or if they’d somehow find a way to move forward. All she knew was that, for the first time in years, she had been honest with herself. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
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horror-sapphic · 3 days ago
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thinking about vicky being maternal—how she’d refer to herself as mommy in bed. she’d eat u out until ur crying and then she’d wipe your tears and nurture you 😵‍💫 “shh, baby, you did so good for mommy. i’m so proud of you.”
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cw: dub con but not really idk, Rough fingering, overstimulation, cry kink (?), Mommy Vic, breast sucking/lactation kink in the end (a warning is issued before the scene).
She's soooo into being called mommy and babying you like the good mommy she is.
She loves having you spread out on the bed melted into a quivering mess from all the orgasms she's dragged out of you, fucking you into a babbling mess.
"Oh poor baby, I fucked you silly, didn't I? didn't mommy?" she teases with a look of mischief living in her brown eyes, "Mhmm" you'd hum.
Completely spaced out of your mind with your cunt leaking with so much cum, the scrunched bedsheets under you are soaked and sticky.
"More, mommy's gonna make you cum more. Okay baby?" she coos, wiping the tears that has started to slip away from your teary eyes as she started playing with your clit. You were so sensitive your lower half began to shake and jerk under her gentle, slow touches.
"Nuh, please" you whine from exhaustion, bucking away from her enticing hand. "Shhh" she whispers, her thumb beginning to speed up. The soft slicking sounds coming from your leaky pussy just pushes her to want to keep going and pushing you more and more.
More tears begin to spill from you as her fingers begin to move away from your clit to entering your dripping cunt, "No baby, just one more for mommy" she pleads. Using her older hand to pry your legs back open after you tried to pin them together out of soreness.
Adding a second finger to your tired hole made you lose it, balling from a mixture of pleasure and pain in which the two lines became blurred into a line of nothingness. The only thing that was being signaled by your brain was the instruction to cry, which only egged Vic on more.
"Say thank you mommyyy" she teased, going faster and faster. Your squelching tight cunt filling the room along with your cries.
"Th- th- tha- thank you mommy AHH" you finally cried before your body began to erupt in shakes as the 5th intense orgasm washed out you, forcing you to squeeze your legs even tighter around her wrist making her slow your motions down.
Your tight hole squeezing in a hypnotic rhythm around her digits, milking them before she gently pulls them out, with help from your gooey pussy.
lactation stuff below...
She pulls your head into her lap, cradling you before pulling her milky breast out for you to suck on to calm down. She wipes the runny tears slowly running down your cheeks, trying desperately not to get started again after feeling your warm and inviting lips wrap around her brown nipple, slowly sucking down the milk from them.
"Mmm" you groan out at this intimate feeling, hearing you hum down her milk. "Such a good baby" she whispers in your ear.
"Such a gooood baby"
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vinylfoxbooks · 1 day ago
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25 Days of Jegumas | Day 1 | Day 20 December 21 - Mistletoe Kiss | @noblehouseofgay | wc: 786
“What’s that, mummy?” Luna asks, pointing at the little plant that one of the characters in the movie is hanging up. The camera focuses on it for a while. 
Lily smiles at the little girl, “It’s called mistletoe. There’s a thing that really big kids and adults do where when two people walk under it at the same time, they have to kiss.”
“Kiss? But isn’t that something only mummies and daddies do?” 
James laughs gently, ruffling Luna’s hair, “No, it’s not. Sometimes friends can kiss, sometimes people can kiss and then never kiss again, sometimes they find the only person they’ll kiss for the rest of their lives, and that’s what your mums and me and Reg have.”
“So anyone can kiss.”
“As long as they both clearly want to, of course they can.” James smiles.
Pandora nods, “And kisses can be anywhere you want it to be, like…” she leans down at kisses her daughter’s forehead, “the head or…” she turns to where Harry is curled up in Lily’s side and pecks his forehead, “the forehead or…” she pulls Regulus, who’s legs she’s leaning against, down to her so she can kiss his cheek, “the cheek or…” she grabs next at James’ hand, bringing it to kiss their knuckles, “the hand or even…” finally, she pulls Lily in for a brief kiss, “The lips. As long as you both want to.” 
“Have you kissed under the miss-toe?” Harry asks, furrowing his brows when he can’t quite figure out how to pronounce the word. 
James nods, “We have.”
It’s one of James’ favourite memories of Regulus, something that happened before they even got together -- though it did play a hand in their relationship just a month and a half later. During a Christmas party that the Potters were having and that James had convicned Sirius to convince Regulus to attend, there had been mistletoe put around a couple different areas of the house. Leading into the ktichen, leading to the stairwell, hanging off the doorway of one of the less busy hallways. There was even one out on the porch in the backyard. 
James had helped their parents put it up and didn’t really care to get caught under any of the sprigs, so they had been carefully avoiding them. Regulus had done the same. But it was in a minor lapse of judgement where James found Regulus outside, just the two of them since there was some sort of event happening inside, and they had gotten so distracted talking to him becaue Regulus was actually talking back and it was the best thing James had ever experienced in their life. Yeah, they had exchanged a couple cards for holidays but there wasn’t anything between them, and they almost never talked. 
But here they were, standing outside alone and talking and laughing and Regulus looked so fucking good in the light from the moon and the Christmas lights strung around the patio. And then Regulus was looking up and his eyes were widening, making James snap their gaze up aswell, knowing just what they were going to find. 
Almost immediately, while still refusing to look away from the mistletoe hung perfectly between them, they laughed, “Well, look at that… I forgot that was out here.” Then they looked down to see the shorter, “We don’t- no one is out here to pressure us into kissing or anything, we don’t have to do it if we don’t want-” but they were cut off by Regulus surging forward, fisting the collar of their shirt, and pulling them into him. James went easily, arms going to wrap around his waist immediately.
When they finally pulled away, Regulus just sneered at James, “You need to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes, James.” Then he turned on his heels and headed back inside, leaving a very confused James behind in the cold. James later learned that Regulus walked away because he freaked himself out and thought that he had messed. Apparently he had gone to hide away in an upstairs bathroom for twenty minutes before Sirius found him. 
But James isn’t going to go into those details with their son or step-daughter, so they just leave it at that and let the kids turn to ask Lily and Pandora if they’ve ever kissed under the mistletoe before pressing them for more information on the tradition. Regulus’ hand finds James’, as though he was going through the same memory that they just were -- and it’s likely that he was, what with the fond look they find on his face when they turn to him. James squeezes his hand and focuses back on what Pandora is saying to the two kids.
Day 22
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mountsmase · 2 days ago
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Cozy Days
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Just thinking about cosy days at home with Mason which would be a necessity at this time of year…
It would be one of those days where neither of you have work or any other obligations, and there’s nothing else you need to be doing, so you take the rare chance to relax and spend the day at home together.
The only time you’d leave the house all day would be in the morning to take Ace for a walk and pop to the shops, you’d walk hand in hand to your local supermarket, letting Ace off the lead for a couple of minutes whilst there’s no one else around in a quieter area. Maybe you’d even stop at your favourite coffee shop to pick up some warm drinks and then Mase would wait outside the supermarket with Ace whilst you run inside to grab some ingredients so that you can do some ingredients when you get home.
You’ve been wanting to make some Gingerbread for a while and you've got all of the actual ingredients at home but you wanted to buy some icing, and some chocolates and sweets that you can use as decorations for the gingerbread house you’re going to attempt to build.
You try to be quick in the shops, not wanting to keep Mase and Ace waiting for too long outside but you still grab some extra snacks for the afternoon before paying and going back to find them outside. Mason would take one of the bags from you, not expecting you to carry them both the whole way home and you try and take it back from him because he’s got Ace on the lead and you really don’t mind carrying it but he doesn’t let you have it back.
When you get home you unpack all of the shopping and drag Mason upstairs to get changed. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re already wearing, both in comfy clothes that would be absolutely fine for what you have planned for the rest of the day, but you brought some matching Christmas PJs a couple of weeks ago and you’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to wear them, and now seems like the perfect time.
You put them on and probably convince him to take some photos with you in them, you move in front of the floor length mirror you have in your bedroom to try and take some but he’d be all over you, constantly trying to make you laugh by tickling you and constantly kissing you when you’re about to take a photo. But they’d turn out as some of your favourites, the ones where you’re both laughing and smiling wide.
You’d go downstairs and put a Christmas movie on, maybe Elf or Home Alone, and then go into the kitchen to get started on the baking (i think his house has a joint living/kitchen area so you’d be able to watch the film from the kitchen)
Baking together would be so so fun, maybe you do quite a lot of baking so he lets you take the reigns and steps in to help where and when he can. And I can imagine him being a little shit and trying to get on your nerves, doing things like flicking flour at you or smearing it over your cheek and by the time the gingerbread has been put in the oven you’d be covered in various ingredients and in desperate need of a shower, but it’s funny more than it’s annoying. He could never ignore you no matter how many times he snuck bits of the batter when you weren’t paying attention.
Once it’s all cooked you take them out of the oven and let them cool before cutting up the pieces to the correct sizes to make a gingerbread house with them. Maybe you want to set up a little decorating competition but you don’t have enough to make two so you each take a side and get started on the decorating. It would be a constant race to get the best sweet and chocolate to use as decorations and a lot of them would definitely be eaten before they even make it onto the house.
It’s a bit of a mess by the time you’re finished, both of you having our way too much on it but it’s your own little masterpiece and you love it, maybe you even post some pictures of it to your private Instagram story and make a poll of who’s is the best side. You’d win it and Mason would go all pouty and give you the silent treatment but would crack not even 5 minuets later because he knows for a fact that yours was definitely the better side and he can’t be upset with you even if he was just doing it jokingly.
The baking and decorating would take up most of your day and by the time you’re finished you’re both hungry and ready for dinner but neither of you feel up to cooking so he gets his phone out and orders you a take away. He’d order for you without even needing to ask what you want and he guesses perfectly what you’d want to eat, as he does all the time.
You clean up from the baking whilst waiting for the food to arrive and when it does you eat it in front of the TV, watching the Grinch as your third and final Christmas movie of the day.
After dinner he puts the plates in the dishwasher but would come right back to you on the sofa to watch the rest of the movie. You’d curl up next to him in the corner of the L shaped sofa, pulling a blanket over you to keep warm whilst he reaches over to grab his laptop from the coffee table. You’d sit and do a bit of last minuet Christmas shopping online, getting all the bits and pieces you didn’t manage to find during your shopping trip the other day.
And when you’re ready to head up to bed Mason would disappear upstairs whilst you’re locking up, wanting to treat you a little by running a bath with all of your favourite Christmassy soaps and bath salts. He knows that a bath is your perfect way to end the day and maybe you mentioned having a bit of a headache earlier so he wants to help you fully relax.
But yeah, these types of days would be some of the most special leading up to Christmas, having no pressure at all to go out and do anything specific, instead just going with the flow and doing whatever you feel like doing at home. Whether that’s baking or just cuddling on the sofa and being lazy all day, just having the time to be together during one of the busiest times of year it’s what’s important to you.
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Day 10 Concept tomorrow 🎄🎅🏻
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