#wishing you good things for this next week and the new year ! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joemama-2 · 11 hours ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: merry early christmas guys to those who celebrate 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Christmas is coming up soon. In about two-ish weeks, give or take. In this case, you’re giving. It’s December 14th, and the days are passing by too fast for your liking. You wish you had more time—to do a lot of things, actually. Luckily, with your rent being paid along with next month’s, that’s given you at least some sort of freedom.

You can thank your ex for that.

So, you’ve been saving for Koji, spending less on yourself. Not like you did much of that in the first place, but still. Again, guilt riddles your insides, insecurities plaguing your mind. Koji has never been a spoiled kid, having grown up quite frugally because of his equally frugal mother. Your tree, something you bargained for at the nearby spot in town that sells trees for the holiday season, is bottom of the barrel. Of course it is, you bargained for it. Sparse areas, branches way too thin and tiny, the height of the entire thing is just about as tall as you are. You keep your box of Christmas decorations so you never have to buy new ones each year. The lights you use are a warm yellow, with a few little bulbs dark because they burnt out. It wraps around your tree in a very messy way—Koji’s doing. A floppy white star placed at the very top of your tree, just barely holding on.

Little pieces of decorations hang from the frail branches: some snowflakes, red and blue balls (Koji said they looked like Spider-Man), and your most favorite one of them all that sits at the top: a picture of you and Koji from a photo booth two years ago. He was only three and you could still carry him then. Chubby cheekbones on display, a wide smile to match. You two are wearing Santa hats, head tilting into his with an equally ecstatic smile. You can’t look too long at it before you start getting emotional.

So mom of you.

Anywho, your point is that while the setup may look dull and even unattractive to most, you still find warmth in it. So does your little boy too. Although he doesn’t exactly know better, considering all you’ve ever had was skinny trees and years-old decorations, he doesn’t complain.

Of course, he does ask you sometimes about why the trees in the movies look different or why his friends have entirely decorated houses and you two don’t. You bottle it up to a simple, “Well, we’re not like other people, baby.”

He understands—most of the time.

Even so, he doesn’t show disrespect. As long as he spends time with you, getting even just three gifts, it’s all enough for him. So you feel guilty for not giving him the full Christmas experience a child should get, you feel insecure that other people are having the holiday season so much better than you are, and if you could, you’d do anything to ensure Koji has a real Christmas one time. At least once. It’s the least you can do as his mother, and it’s the least he deserves.

Because the holidays are meant for happiness, cheeriness, and family time. All things that feel very forced for you right now.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

Your lips purse, hoping it resembles a smile. But Shoko always reads you easily, dissecting your emotions. “You too, how have you been?”

“As good as I can. Late nights, exhausted, seeing someone’s leg split in half. You know, the usual.”

A small chuckle falls from you, nodding in silence. “I’m glad you were able to do what you want. ER work, right?”

“Yep,” Shoko hums, leaning back against the bench, coffee in hand. “Though I did have a friend who helped me get through it all so quickly.”

“Really? Who?”

“Cheating.” She smirks behind the rim of her cup.

Your eyes roll, sighing as you mimic her posture. It feels odd seeing her again for the first time after so many years. You gathered the courage to text her number, feeling distraught and overwhelmed last night. Right after you sent the text asking her to meet up the next morning, you slightly regretted it. Does she think I’m weird? What if she says no? God, what is wrong with me?

Your doubts were proved wrong when she replied with a simple “See you”. Simplicity was always Shoko’s thing. Something that you almost envied from the woman. You wish you had composure like her. Of course, her life isn’t exactly simple considering she’s dealing with people with broken anything and blood all the time, but you can tell she thoroughly enjoys it. She finds pleasure in her job.

Again, this is something you’re also slightly envious of.

“So….” She finally says after a beat of silence, turning her head over at you. “I want to ask the obvious, but I think I’ll wait. I want to see how you’re doing first.”

You worry your lip between your teeth, peering down at your fiddling fingers. The words are a little hard to get out, and a little embarrassing too. You don’t really want to vent to her after years of no contact, but it’s hard not to. At this point, you’re like a broken dam. Spilling and spilling by the minute until you completely break down. “Things could be better. I just have a lot on my mind and what I’m dealing with.”

She nods in understanding. “Like the articles and stuff?”

You sigh heavily in exhaustion, raising two fingers to rub the space between your brows. “Yeah, that’s one of them. You seen ‘em?”

“Many people have.”

Of course. “I just don’t get it. Why is it such a big deal he has a son no one knew about? Are these kinds of ‘issues’ really that important to rich people like him? Like, c’mon. It’s not like he killed a man. He has a son but everyone’s treating and acting like this is horrendous and astounding news that we should be fearful of.”

Shoko tilts her head, her gaze steady but not intrusive. “Rich people thrive on spectacle, you know that. Every little thing becomes a headline, especially when someone like Gojo, Japan’s sexiest man alive of 2024, is involved. He’s a household name, Y/N.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You forgot the fact that he’s been given that title. The article popped up on your Google just yesterday, giving in and tapping on it. The first picture that greets you is a very intimate, black-and-white picture of Satoru shirtless, with unbelted pants. He wasn’t looking at the camera in that one, but the way his arms were raised, accentuating his biceps made you feel a tiny throb. The first of many from that photoshoot the article included. “But why does it have to be this? Why is it such a scandal that he has a kid? Like, what are they even expecting from us? An apology? A press conference where we swear to never let it happen again?”

Shoko’s smirk is faint but wry. “You think logic applies here? The higher the pedestal, the harsher the fall. Gojo’s not just rich—he’s Gojo. Untouchable, perfect, untamed. Add a secret kid to the mix, and it’s like handing tabloids their golden ticket.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “It’s so stupid. They’re acting like we’re some corrupt dynasty with skeletons bursting out of the closet. It’s not even a big deal!”

Shoko takes a sip of her drink, watching you with a calmness that somehow makes you feel seen. “It’s not a big deal to us, no. But to them? It’s betrayal, gossip, leverage—anything but what it really is. Just life.”

Her words settle in your chest, a grounding sort of clarity that you hadn’t realized you needed. You couldn’t—probably ever—understand the thought process of the elites of Japan. You’re a bit glad that you won’t. But in this situation, you just wish they would think like normal fucking people for one second. That’s hard to do when you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth and everything at your fingertips. You peer over at her, your lips pressing together as you process everything. “I just…I don’t want Koji dragged into this. He doesn’t deserve it. That’s one of the main reasons why I kept everything a secret in the first place. But now look at us, everything has just changed so…so fast. I’m not ready for it, neither is my son.”

She lets the quiet air linger for a moment, your venting finding placement. “No, he doesn’t deserve it,” Shoko agrees. Her tone is firm, an anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “And neither do you. But the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: let them dictate how this plays out, or take control of the narrative yourself.” Her words linger, the weight of them grounding and unsettling all at once. Taking control of the narrative sounds easy in theory, but the reality feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind threatening to knock you over.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter.

Shoko shrugs, but there’s an edge of reassurance in her expression. “True, but you’ve already been through worse. You’ve got more strength in you than you give yourself credit for. And if anyone can handle this mess, it’s you.”

Her confidence in you feels foreign but comforting. You nod slowly, gripping onto her words like a lifeline. “Thanks, Shoko.”

“Anytime.” She raises her cup slightly in a mock toast, her smile small but sincere. A beat flows through, a comfortable silence. The two of you watch the snow cover the ground with its beauty, the sun barely peeking through the cloudy, muted sky. You can’t help but draw the parallel. The sun, peeking, but hidden behind the heavy clouds, yet still present—trying, despite the odds. That’s you, isn’t it? Not gone, not entirely defeated, but dulled. Struggling to shine through the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Shoko breaks the silence with a soft chuckle. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Quiet, too. Almost makes you forget the world’s still a mess.”

You nod, your gaze following the gentle swirl of snowflakes. “Yeah… It’s like everything’s paused for a moment. Peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she echoes, leaning back in her seat. “Funny how something so fleeting can feel so permanent in the moment.” Her expression stirs something inside you—a quiet ache you’ve been trying to suppress. You glance at her, lips parting, but the words get stuck in your throat. She doesn’t push, doesn’t probe. Shoko’s always been good at giving space without making it feel like a void. Instead, she takes a long sip of her drink and says, “You know, snow’s a great equalizer. Covers up the mess, and makes everything look the same. Like the world gets a second chance. It’s the start of something new.”

Those words make you immediately remember Satoru’s. Snow’s the start of something new. That should be a good thing, right? You should be glad. However, how many more changes have to happen until something good comes your way? There’s only so much one can go through in such a short amount of time. But as Shoko said, you have more strength than you think. You’ve been through worse. And while that may be true, at this fleeting moment, that couldn’t be any further from the truth. It’s easy for her to say since she’s not actually living your life.

You haven’t exactly talked talked to Satoru yet about all this, about what he’ll say, what his parents will do. But they probably have good lawyers, right? Maybe they’ll put out a statement that any further harassment will be met with legal action. Or he’ll take pride in his son and show no regrets. You really don’t know. Your optimistic side wishes that Satoru will deal with this smoothly and how you want him to. But your pessimistic side says this will continue on until who knows how long. People randomly coming up to you, making remarks on social media, finding your job, finding your own social media accounts that you’ve had to take down.

Seriously, why the fuck do they care so much? Even after Shoko’s explanation, it’s still not enough for you. At the end of the day, we’re all human, we all do human things. Jesus Christ, you could never last a day in Satoru’s position. On constant public display and scrutiny, it’s exhausting and infuriating.

Satoru’s taken Koji off your hands for the while. It’s around four in the evening now. Although you were hesitant at first, he assured you he would do his absolute best to make sure nothing wrong happens and that he stays safe. And besides, it’s nice to have the place to yourself for a few hours. It’s confusing, because while at times you feel so defeatedly lonely, other times you welcome it with open arms.

But every parent probably feels like that, right? Praising the day they get even two hours to themselves, not worrying about making sure your child isn’t choking.

Anywho, you’ve taken the liberty to take a nice and warm refreshing bath. The heat does wonders to your skin, sighing wistfully and eyes closing in relaxation. The warmth envelops you like a comforting embrace, melting away the tension you didn’t realize had settled in your shoulders. It’s rare, these moments of solitude—where the only sound is the faint ripple of water as you shift slightly in the tub. You sink deeper, letting the heat seep into your muscles, as if the bath could wash away not just the stress of parenting but the heaviness of everything else weighing on you.

You tilt your head back against the rim of the tub, exhaling a deep sigh. It’s strange how quiet the apartment feels without Koji’s laughter or even Satoru’s voice filling the space. Strange, but not unwelcome. For once, there’s no background noise, no constant buzz of responsibility. Just you and the stillness. You almost wish you can share this stillness with someone else, but throw that thought out your mind fast.

Your fingers trail through the water absentmindedly, thoughts wandering. You wonder what Satoru and Koji are up to—probably indulging in some sugary snack you’d never approve of at this hour of the day because Koji’s sugar rushes just last so long. The image makes you smile faintly. Despite everything, Satoru’s been trying. And even if you don’t say it aloud, you notice. He’s been so good with him, the two are incredibly close and it’s like the past five years of absence never existed. You always knew Satoru was that type of man. He got along with kids well, children almost seemed to magically gravitate towards him. It’s…very attractive.

Once the bathwater starts to cool, you decide to reluctantly push yourself upright. Wrapping a towel around yourself. You pad into the bedroom, the cold air nipping at your damp skin. With Koji gone until probably around eight or nine, the silence settles over you once again. You glance at the clock on the nightstand—still hours to go before they return. You grab a soft blanket and curl up on the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly. Nothing really holds your attention, but it feels nice just to sit, undisturbed. As you take a sip of tea, you can’t help but think: Maybe you should let yourself enjoy these moments more.

It’s hard, but you should probably make more of an effort to take care of yourself. If you’re out of it, you’ll be unfit to care for Koji. And that’s your biggest nightmare ever. You blankly watch whatever show is playing after turning the TV on, but your mind seems much more louder than the voices from the characters on screen. You wish you could just shut off the constant worry, stressing, and overthinking about pretty much everything in your life.

Before you know it, your feet are guiding you back up, leading you down the hallway and to your room. The closet is to your left, a single door with a small lightbulb overhead that weakly shines its light and illuminates the inside. Your clothes hung up, shoes on the floor. Some of Koji’s old toys lay next to your shoes, having meant to donate them but never getting around to it. You go down to your knees, moving further inside the small closet. Having to push a few jackets to the side for better visibility, moving your shoes out the way. Stuffed in the very corner of your closet lies a worn black box. When you pull it out from its hiding spot, the lightbulb makes visible faint letters that are threatening to peel away.

Cheap markers.

There’s little dribbles of flowers and smiley faces along the sides, a stick figure image of a boy and girl. The boy’s eyes are drawn with the brightest blue marker you both found out the time. It’s a little shitty representation, but the boy’s line for an arm is connected to the girl’s arm; holding hands.

OUR WORLD

Something you both agreed was cheesy, though you thought of it. He wrote it. You had the ideas, he made them come to life.

Your breath catches as you brush your fingers over the worn box. The faded decorations are a time capsule—a reflection of a simpler, yet complicated past. A mix of laughter, innocence, and heartbreak lingers on its surface, as if the box itself holds memories you’ve long since buried. You hesitate for a moment, thumb tracing over the stick figures. The blue-eyed boy. The girl with a faint red-lipped smile. The images were so carelessly drawn back then, yet they now carry an almost painful clarity. A reminder of what once was—and what could never quite be again. Sliding the top off the box, you’re immediately greeted by the faint scent of old paper and something else merely nostalgic. Photographs, letters, and random trinkets fill the space. A keychain, an old movie ticket stub, and at the very top, a small folded note with handwriting you recognize instantly.

"To my favorite person,

No matter where life takes us, remember this moment, okay? This one is ours."

His handwriting feels more impactful than you thought it would. Your chest tightens as you unfold the note fully, memories flooding back with each word. Satoru had written this. Back when things were different—when the two of you weren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. When promises felt unbreakable and the future seemed...possible.

You carefully place the note back into the box, your hands trembling slightly. There’s so much in this little box that you’ve avoided for years. So much of what you were, who you were, with him. And now, it feels like the box is staring back at you, asking the question you’ve avoided for so long.

What are you going to do with all of this?

Why have you kept this? After all the time? You remember telling yourself the day of your break up that you’d throw everything out—burn it all. But everytime you even touched it, you came to a brutal realization. You can’t. For some reason, you couldn’t get rid of it, couldn’t bring harm to this reminder of the lives you’ve lived and left behind.

You found comfort in the idea that one day in the future, you would be able to. But you also found comfort in the box itself. Oh how wrong you were. And that fact twists at your heart, your blood wringing out in the process. Leaving you with a dull and soulless shell. Staring down at the remnants, going through them—everytime. Maybe you haven’t ever had the strength to get rid of it, you wonder if you ever will.

Pictures of your younger self, of Satoru’s younger self smile up at you like they’re taunting you. As if the past can sense the future’s despair. They’re simple pictures, cute but simple. Just how you two wanted it. The quality isn’t that great, considering most of them were taken on shitty disposable cameras.

“Because it’s sustainable!” You argued when Satoru questioned the device when you first pulled it out. He simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, lips upturning into a smile the second you readied the device for a photo.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Whoever came up with that phrase is a genius, but you also despise how much truth is held to that single sentence. Pain. Nostalgia. Longing. Happiness. Regret?

Flipping through the small pictures is like going through your very own time capsule. Each snapshot carries a story, a moment frozen in time that feels both distant and heartbreakingly close. The childish doodles lining the box seem to echo your younger self’s voice, innocent and untouched by the weight of reality. A photo catches your eye—a little blurry but unmistakably Satoru, grinning with his arms slung lazily over your shoulders. Your cheeks in the picture are flushed, and you can almost hear the laughter that must’ve been spilling from your lips when it was taken.

Then there’s another, of the two of you sitting under a sprawling tree, sunlight filtering through the leaves. His hand rests on yours, casual but intimate in a way that makes your chest ache now. You remember the warmth of that day, the way he’d joked about how your hair glowed in the light.

There’s a card, too, nestled beneath the pictures. The corners are slightly bent, but the words inside are still intact. His handwriting is unmistakable, bold and messy:

“To the girl who makes my world brighter every day. Don’t ever stop smiling—it’s my favorite thing about you. Love, Satoru.”

“Hah, I didn’t know you were such a poet.” You teased.

“Ugh, shut up.”

Your fingers trace over the ink, your breath halting. Time may have passed, and life may have twisted and turned, but this box feels like a portal to a version of you that still believed in endless possibilities. And yet, the ache in your chest doesn’t falter. Instead, it lingers, a reminder of how much has changed—and how much you wish hadn’t.

The final picture is one that almost tears at you. A silly one that you would’ve never imagined would push at your heart like a heavy door stuck in the way of your own contentment. You’re kissing him, the side profile of your two faces as you indulge in each other's lips. Satoru’s free arm slightly out of frame since he’s the one holding the camera high. You both are holding your left hands up, showing off your Ring Pops on each of your ring fingers. His red, yours blue.

“Let’s pose like a couple who just got married!”

You sighed. “Satoru….”

Written on the white border frame of the photo are the words:

She said yes!!

A melancholic laugh escapes you, tears hitting the picture. It’s colors are already slightly altered from previous wetness. Your chest feels tight, eyes closing with a sinking stomach. Why do you always do this to yourself when you’re already feeling upset? Why are you still so affected by it? Will it get better with time? But how much more time?

You gasp and flinch when the front door is rung, eyes widening as you swiftly and messily put the contents back in, sliding the top back on and stuffing the box in its hiding spot once more. After closing the door, you walk down the hall and to the peephole. Your brows furrow. “Satoru?” You ask as you open the door. Confusion hits you, seeing your sleeping son in his father’s arms. Koji’s backpack slid on top of Satoru’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…dropping Koji off?” He replies back like it’s the obvious, his own pale eyebrows knitting as he regards you. “…Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Shit. “I’m not,” your hands raise to your cheeks, wiping any trace of your previous emotional breakdown, swiftly denying his words. “I thought you were coming back later.”

“It is later, Y/N.” He frowns and steps in, allowing you a better view of the dark night sky.

What the hell? Since when did it get dark? Slowly, you close and lock the door, blinking rapidly as you try to gather your bearings. Just how long were you on the couch for? How long were you reminiscing? Turning around, you see Satoru come out from Koji’s room.

“Put him down, showered and dressed him already. Little man played a lot today.”

“Oh,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say. You lean against the door for a moment, trying to regain your composure. Satoru’s words feel oddly domestic, almost like you’re living a life you’ve long since moved on from dreaming about—or tried to.

He sets Koji’s backpack down by the couch, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves as he glances your way. “You sure you’re okay?” His voice softens now, genuine. Concerned.

You force a small smile, crossing your arms. “I’m fine. Just…lost track of time, I guess.”

Satoru studies you, his crystalline eyes searching your face like he doesn’t quite believe you. He shrugs lightly, though, not wanting to push. “Alright. Koji was great today. Took him to that park he keeps talking about. Got some ice cream. He wore me out.” His lips quirk into a small grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thanks for doing that,” you say softly, glancing toward Koji’s room. “He loves spending time with you. He always talks to me about your guys’ missions.”

“Hah, yeah, well…” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, leaning his tall frame casually against the wall. “I love spending time with him, too. And you know, it’s not just for him.” His words are light, but there’s a weight behind them, one you’re not sure you’re ready to unpack tonight. You don’t know what he really means by that, but it’s probably best that you don’t. You’d look into it too much. And like he said, you’re already complicating things even more by almost kissing him the other day.

You nod, your throat tightening as you look anywhere but at him. “I should probably check on him. Make sure he’s really asleep.”

“Y/N.” His voice stops you in your tracks.

You turn slowly, meeting his gaze. “What?” you ask, your voice smaller than you intended.

He hesitates for a moment, his brows furrowing as though he’s deciding whether or not to say what’s on his mind. Finally, he sighs and steps closer. “If something’s bothering you…you can talk to me. You know that, right? You look like you’re crying and I—”

Your heart clenches, the sincerity in his voice almost too much to bear. “I know,” you manage to cut him off, your voice sharper than you had wanted it to be.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, Satoru clears his throat and steps back. “Alright. Guess I’ll head out, then. Call me if you need anything.” You hum, watching as he heads for the door. Just before he leaves, he pauses, glancing back at you one last time. His eyes linger for a second longer than they should, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

And you’re left alone again, the weight of the evening settling back over you like a familiar, unwelcome blanket. You want to scold yourself for losing track of time so easily, letting yourself get lost for such a long time. He probably thinks something’s wrong, and while you appreciate him being mature and overall cordial enough to offer his ear, you don’t want to give him that. It’s embarrassing and almost too vulnerable for you right now to vent to your ex.

You know that saying that the last thing or person you think about before you fall asleep is what you’ll dream of? He stares at the door, trying to will himself into stopping his train of thought, but the vision of you won’t leave. Not tonight. Maybe it’s the nagging scent of your clothes he can still smell, or maybe it’s the way you looked so raw, so unguarded. Maybe it’s the promise he made to himself years ago to never let you go, to never let you fall apart without him. Now look where he is.

Satoru’s mind is a whirlwind as he steps back into the cold, dark air of his penthouse, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality he wasn’t quite ready for. He should’ve left things simple, right? Drop off Koji, make sure everything’s okay, and then go. But of course, he couldn’t help himself. He had to ask, had to reach for that sliver of connection that still seemed to remain between the two of you, even after all this time. Or maybe he’s not reaching, he’s just being a good person. Or maybe there is no sliver of connection at all.

He rubs his face with one hand as he walks down the hall, his thoughts staying on your expression, the tightness in your smile, the way you tried so hard to hide whatever was eating at you. Your red eyes that seemed glossy enough to tell him what you had been doing before he arrived. He should’ve pushed, should’ve stayed longer, but something told him it wasn’t the right time. Also, not to mention the fact that he’s not entitled to know anymore, and he shouldn’t want to. He wishes he could forget—wishes it wasn’t so easy for him to still care about you after everything you’ve put him through.

Still, his mind can’t stop replaying the way you looked tonight, like you were holding back—like you were on the edge of something he couldn’t reach. And now, that’s the last image he sees before closing his eyes: you, standing there, fragile but strong, trying to put on a brave face when he knew you were anything but okay.

He slides into his bed, sinking into the comforting mattress. Stop thinking about it, he tells himself. Just go to sleep.

But it's useless. The thought of you doesn't leave him. It never does in times like this. But that's the thing, isn't it? He always cared. Always would. Any good man would

As the awaited sleep stretches on, his mind drifts back to those moments—the way you wiped your face quickly when he mentioned the tears. How you didn’t let him in. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this.

Before he knows it, he feels the weight of his own exhaustion, the pull of sleep starting to take over. He lets his eyes stay shut. Stretching out on the bed, his thoughts blurring into a fizzle. The room is quiet, too quiet. But just like that, he’s falling and falling into a realm where the weight of everything else disappears.

The first thing he sees startles him. It’s just you, standing in front of him again, your eyes locked with his.

You’re both staring at one another before it’s like someone slowly raising the light switches. Sun peeking through the blinds of the kitchen you two stand in as you place a hand down to your stomach. When his eyes follow it, he then notices the rounded swell that’s visible from beneath the dress you wear.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

You giggle, voice smooth and inviting, stepping closer to him until you can reach his hand, intertwining your fingers.

Yep, definitely a dream. Or maybe a nightmare.

“I made you breakfast, your favorite.” You guide his hand to your bump, chuckling softly. “But baby here was getting hungry, so we may have gotten a little taste test before.”

Satoru’s heart skips a beat, his fingers instinctively brushing over your rounded stomach as you guide them there. The warmth of your skin under his touch feels real, too real, and his mind stumbles, trying to make sense of the situation. The room around you starts to feel like a glimpse into an alternative universe. Soft, golden light spilling in through the blinds, the smell of something warm and inviting persisting in the air. It’s almost too perfect, too serene to be real. And yet, he’s standing here, his breath caught in his throat as his fingers rest against the gentle curve of your belly. The weight of it, the life growing inside you, sends a quiet thrill through him.

You giggle, the sound of it so familiar it makes his chest ache. It’s like nothing has changed. Like you’re the same as you’ve always been, only…this time, things are different. There’s a quiet tenderness in the air that wasn’t there before. He swallows, trying to fight the growing confusion in his chest. “I—I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the small, soft swell of your stomach. He knows it’s not real, but it doesn’t stop his brain from wandering into beliefs of if it were. “How… how are we here?”

Your smile widens, that knowing glimmer in your eyes that makes his chest tighten with something he can’t name. “We’re here because this is where we belong,” you say simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. You nudge his hand a little lower, guiding him to feel the tiny movement beneath his palm, the small shift of life inside you.

It’s then that the weight of the moment hits him all at once, his heart thumping in his chest. The quiet reality of what you’ve built together, the life you’ve shared, and everything that could’ve been. He’s overwhelmed, caught between longing and disbelief. His voice cracks when he finally speaks again. “Is this what you wanted? What we wanted?”

You laugh softly, resting your forehead against his chest, your fingers still entwined with his. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. What we have always wanted. Stop acting weird.” Your words are a balm, soothing yet laced with something deeper, something that speaks to both of your hearts, even if this is fake.

In this moment, everything feels right. It feels like you’re back to where you both belong.

Satoru stays still for a moment, the warmth of your forehead pressed against him, your fingers gently intertwining with his. The softness of the moment seems to wrap around him, the image of you—here, with him—so perfect that it almost hurts. The softness of your touch, the way your body feels against his as you stand close, it’s like he’s been starved of this connection for so long. A quiet ache settles deep within him, but it’s not the hurt he’s used to. No, this is something else—something far more complicated.

He shifts slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as you lift your head. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel this again,” he admits, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone catches him off guard, but it feels natural, like you’ve always been the one person he could let his guard down with. “You and…us. Everything that’s happened.”

You hum softly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. The smile on your lips is small but full of quiet understanding. “I know, Satoru,” you say, your voice steady, like you’ve been carrying this weight for far longer than he ever realized. “But this…” You glance down at your stomach before meeting his eyes again, “This is what we fought for. This is what we still have.”

He feels the truth of your words settle into him, but it’s a bittersweet sensation, one that pulls at something deep inside of him. It’s almost too good to be true, this version of reality, and he can’t help but wonder why his mind has conjured up this visualization—this perfect picture of you and him, together in a way he never thought possible.

“But what if we don’t get it right?” he asks quietly, his brow furrowing in uncertainty. “What if we’re too broken to fix it? We’ve made so many mistakes…”

You place a gentle finger against his lips, silencing him before he can spiral further. “We’ve always been broken, Satoru,” you say softly, “But we’ve always found our way back to each other. And that’s enough. Right?”

The way you say it, so sure of yourself, sends a warmth through his chest. It’s a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again. His heart beats a little faster, a little steadier, as he finally lets go of the lingering doubts, the fear of what’s beyond this moment. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the weight in his chest. “I don’t know what’s next, but for now… I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes soften, and for a moment, he sees it—the connection between you two, unbroken, unshakable. Even in the midst of everything that’s happened, the messy past and the uncertainty of the future, he realizes that some things are worth fighting for. “This is enough for me,” you whisper, closing the distance between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s gentle, but it carries everything—everything he’s been wanting to say, everything he’s been longing to hear.

And god, the way your pretty lips feel against his is heavenly. It’s strong and long-lasting. Hand to your cheek as his head tilts to deepen it, feeling your warm breath enter his mouth like a soft pull. He’s tempted to dance his tongue along your own.

As you pull away, he feels a quiet peace settle over him. The dream, though fleeting, has given him something he didn’t know he needed. A glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they can find their way back to each other for good.

But the atmosphere darkens, like putting a blanket over a lamp. Your own eyes dulling into something he saw before he left you tonight, something he’s been seeing everytime he visits you. Your smile dropping into a placid emotion. Satoru’s heart stutters in his chest, the warmth of the moment slipping away like sand between his fingers. The light around you seems to fade, the world losing its softness and vibrancy. A chill washes over him, creeping through his veins like ice water. Your smile, once so gentle and inviting, disappears into something far more distant, as if a part of you has shut down completely. The joy that had filled the air vanishes, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence that wraps itself around both of you. His eyes widen in confusion, and he takes a step back, searching your face for any hint of explanation. He feels the air shift into a freezing temperature.

"What—?" He stops himself, his words catching in his throat, trying to make sense of the drastic shift in the atmosphere. The way your hand falls to your side feels like a finality, as though the reality he had just witnessed—of you, of the hope in your eyes—was nothing more than a simple illusion.

The weight of the silence presses down on him, smothering. His gaze moves down, and that's when he realizes the baby bump has vanished. There’s nothing there. The roundness, the warmth, the promise of new life—gone. In its place, there's only the smooth curve of your stomach, flat and unchanged.

"Y/N?" His voice cracks on your name, disoriented and desperate for some kind of explanation. "What happened? What…what’s going on?"

But you don’t answer right away. Instead, you look at him like you’ve seen a stranger, a shift in your eyes that only deepens the growing pit in his stomach. Your gaze is cold, distant, almost as if you've already resigned yourself to something. Satoru swallows hard, his hand instinctively reaching for you, but when his fingers brush against your arm, it feels like the connection is completely severed. "What’s wrong? Talk to me," he pleads, his voice raw and filled with confusion.

You take a slow, deliberate step back, the air between you two growing heavier. "Satoru," you say, but your voice sounds far too calm, far too final. "This is the reality, isn't it? This is what it always was—always will be. A dream. A fantasy."

His mind races, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, this isn’t a fantasy! We—we had a chance. You and me, and Koji…and the other…We were—" His throat tightens, unable to finish his sentence.

But you cut him off, the finality in your words sinking deep. "You left, Satoru. You just wanted us to end, didn’t you? It’s why you didn’t fight for me the day we broke up—fight for us. You made me make that promise. You left, and that’s what this is now. A memory. The past. Something we’ll never, ever get back.”

The words land like a blow to his chest, sharp and cutting. His chest tightens as he searches your face, willing for you to show him that this is just another moment in the dream—that the warmth would come back, that the hope would return. But your eyes are cold. The distance between you feels insurmountable.

He opens his mouth to speak, to argue, to fix whatever it is that's wrong—but nothing comes out. The truth is, he doesn’t know how to fix this. Not anymore. Not when everything between you feels so broken, like fragments of a life he no longer knows how to put together.

And just like that, the warmth of the dream fades completely, leaving him in the cold, dark reality of what’s been lost.

“I wish I kept Koji from you. I wish you weren’t his father.”

Satoru startles awake, jolting upright in his bed. He feels like he’s just been splashed with ice cold water, in a way, he has. Raising his hands to his temples, face scrunching in discomfort. He’s breathing fast and hard, heart feeling like it’ll just pop right out. His hands trembling.

The sounds of birds tweeting a song is what he hears next. The morning light filters softly through the curtains, but it feels blinding to him, harsh against the remnants of the nightmare. His chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath shallow and frantic, his heart still racing as he fights to steady himself. The words you spoke echo in his mind, sharp and cutting. I wish I kept Koji from you. I wish you weren’t his father. The pain in those words, the hurt, is still so vivid in his memory.

Satoru places his hands on the sides of his face, trying to ground himself. His fingers dig into his skin, as if the physical pressure could somehow push away the remnants of the dream, make it vanish. But it lingers. It hangs heavy in the air, suffocating him. Why did you say that? Why did you feel that way? Do you actually feel that way in real life? Are you planning to take Koji and run away with him again? Did you seriously regret having a child with him?

He inhales deeply, his breath shaky, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. The sound of birds chirping in the distance serves as a reminder that the world continues to move outside of his turmoil, but it only makes him feel more disconnected. He pushes the blankets off of him and swings his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thud. His mind races, trying to make sense of what he’s feeling. That dream—it wasn’t just a nightmare. It felt like a warning, a reminder of how fragile everything has been, how much he’s lost. How much he’s failed.

The promise.

The weight of what’s happened between you two settles heavily on his shoulders. And it makes him feel cautious—scared that you’ll do what you said you wouldn’t, all over again.

Satoru stands, his body still trembling slightly, and walks toward the window. He peers outside, letting the light touch his face, even if it’s almost too bright for him right now. It’s peaceful outside, the world as it always is in the morning: calm, serene, untouched. But his own mind is a storm, and no amount of sunlight seems to clear the clouds. He closes his eyes and exhales deeply, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream, the guilt gnawing at him. The idea of you saying that you wished you’d kept Koji from him—the thought cuts deeper than he’s willing to admit. What does that mean for the future?

What does it mean for him?

Satoru feels his heart aching with the need to fix things, to understand if you actually feel that way. But he's left in the quiet chaos of his own mind, unsure of where to begin. And that's the worst part: not knowing where to start.

Whatever, it was just a dream. Dreams aren’t real. Don’t think too much into it.

A text message pings, causing him to look over. The sight of your name forms a twisting feeling to reside in his core, frowning. It’s like when you dream about your significant other cheating on you, so the next morning you’re a little mad at them for no reason. But this time, he’s not sure if it’s for no reason.

Maybe you actually feel like this, feeling regret for not keeping Koji from him any longer. You’ve obviously shown to be good at keeping secrets, so who’s to say you’re not still doing that. He grabs his phone, clicking on your message and pushing down the resentment that continues to bloom once more.

Y/N:

Hey, have u had any luck with the leaker?

Satoru sighs heavily, eyes closing momentarily before opening them back up and typing you back. He can’t help the shortness in his response.

Satoru:

Y/N:

Pls let me know of any changes

He doesn’t bother replying, tossing his phone on his bed and getting up and ready for the day. Of course the thought of the identity of who leaked the photo has been running rampant in his mind day in and day out. But he just woke up from a particularly scary nightmare—or a message?—and he doesn’t need his mind overwhelmed anymore than it is right now.

As he goes through his morning routine, Satoru can’t shake the consistent unease. The nightmare, your text, and the weight of everything that’s been happening swirl in his mind like a storm he can’t escape. He brushes his teeth with more force than necessary, gripping the sink as the toothpaste foam spills over his lips. He stares at his reflection in the mirror, his pale blue eyes duller than usual, rimmed with exhaustion.

He can’t stop wondering—what if there’s truth to his nightmare? What if you do regret letting him into Koji’s life? The thought gnaws at him, a relentless ache in his chest.

The leak complicates things even further. Someone out there—someone close enough to know—exposed him and Koji to the world. The conversation with his mother plays again internally. Someone close or possibly a business partner. But what if she’s wrong? What if it’s someone who’s not close, but still smart enough? And while it’s caused a media frenzy, he knows the real damage is more personal. It’s the wedge it’s driving between him and you. The accusations, the whispers, the uncertainty—it’s all feeding into the growing gap he’s been struggling to bridge.

He pulls on a shirt, his movements jerky as his frustration builds. He hasn’t been able to sleep properly for days either, his mind consumed by the mystery of the leak and the uneasy tension between you two. It’s not like you’re outright hostile, but there’s something there—something distant, guarded. And now, after the dream, he can’t stop replaying the worst-case scenarios in his head.

The atmosphere in the room is cold, tense—calculating. Out of the four people situated inside, none speak. Just looking at one another in silent scrutiny. Yamato and Akane are sitting side by side, seated across from them are another married couple.

Kenji and Emi Nakamura.

Kenji and Emi Nakamura exude the quiet confidence of people used to wielding power. Kenji’s sharp suit is impeccably tailored, his posture straight and commanding, while Emi, poised in a sleek dress, sits with her legs crossed, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Despite their calm appearances, their sharp gazes and the slight twitch of Kenji’s jaw betray their impatience.

Yamato leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, his eyes cold and unwavering as they meet Kenji’s. Akane, seated next to him, is the picture of composed elegance, but the slight tap of her heel against the floor reveals her tension. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until finally, Kenji speaks, his voice smooth but laced with thinly veiled irritation.

“So,” he begins, his piercing eyes flickering between Yamato and Akane. “Are we going to dance around the issue all day, or will one of you have the decency to explain how this... mess...got out and why the man who’s dating our daughter suddenly has a secret son?”

Yamato doesn’t flinch. He lets the accusation hang in the air for a moment before responding, his tone measured. “We don’t deal in leaks, Kenji. And we certainly wouldn’t jeopardize our own family’s reputation for... what? A scandal? That’s more your style.”

Kenji’s expression hardens, and Emi places a delicate hand on his arm, a subtle but firm reminder to keep his temper in check. She smiles politely, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s not turn this into a blame game. We’re all here because this leak affects all of us—your family, ours, Satoru’s and Himari’s.”

Akane’s lips twitch into a faint, humorless smile. “Don’t patronize us, Emi. You and I both know you’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. You’ve always wanted to see Satoru fall from grace.”

Emi raises an eyebrow, her smile unfaltering. “I want what’s best for our families, Akane. A public scandal doesn’t benefit anyone, least of all Gojo or the Nakamura name. Besides, our daughter quite loves your son.”

Kenji leans forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Let’s cut the theatrics. Who is responsible?”

Akane’s heel stops tapping, and she fixes Kenji with a sharp look. “We’re working on it. Our investigators are thorough, and they’ll uncover the source soon enough.”

Kenji’s eyes narrow. “They’d better. Because the last thing the Nakamura name needs is a public scandal about a conniving young man and our innocent daughter. She’s already receiving enough scrutiny as it is.”

The tension in the room ratchets up another notch, but Yamato remains unmoved. His voice, low and steady, cuts through the silence. “And if we discover the leak came from your side, Kenji? Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?” The two men lock eyes, a silent battle of wills, while their wives sit in their respective corners, poised like chess queens ready to strike. The room may be quiet, but the unspoken threats linger in the air like a storm waiting to break.

“We’d never do something like this, especially if it affects our daughter.” Emi replies firmly. She tilts her chin up slightly, an air of indignation radiating from her as her perfectly manicured hand rests on her husband’s arm. “You should know better than to accuse us of such underhanded behavior, Yamato.”

Yamato’s wife leans forward slightly, her tone equally sharp. “And you should know better than to express such hostility towards us. Tenka Couture benefits more from Gojo Group than vice versa.”

Emi’s smile tightens, her composure threatening to crack. “Why, of course. We’re just saying, Himari has nothing to gain from this mess. If anything, she’s a victim of it. The constant media scrutiny, the endless whispers. How do you think that’s been affecting her?”

Kenji slams his hand on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. “Enough. This isn’t about Himari. This is about finding the truth. If your investigators are as thorough as you claim, then we’d better find answers—and soon.”

Yamato meets Kenji’s glare with a calm intensity. “Rest assured, we will. But until then, I suggest you keep your own people in check. If we find out this was an attempt to sabotage Satoru—or worse, hurt him—there will be consequences. You know that better than anyone.”

Kenji leans back, his jaw tight, as Emi places another calming hand on his shoulder. “We don’t want this to escalate any further,” she says, her voice softer now but no less firm. “For everyone’s sake, let’s handle this with discretion.”

Akane glances at Yamato, smoothing down the front of her skirt. “We agree. But let’s make one thing clear—if the Nakamuras are involved in any way, there will be no forgiveness. Not from us, and not from Satoru.”

Kenji sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, we understand. But again, we are in no way involved with this leak. With the revelation of this…boy, it messes up everything. Himari and Satoru are a couple. They’re supposed to represent unity between our families and companies, a partnership that benefits both sides. This child complicates that narrative. It puts everything we’ve worked for at risk.”

Yamato’s eyes narrow, his sharp gaze cutting through Kenji’s words. “We understand, yes. But at the end of the day, Satoru is our son, this boy is…well he’s a part of our family now. Your concern seems to be more about appearances than the actual implications for Satoru’s life or the boy’s well-being, but I understand that. My wife and I too are concerned with the way this sudden news could somehow stain our reputation.”

Kenji leans forward, his hands clasped tightly on the table, his expression taut. “Appearances are everything in this world, Yamato. You know that. If this story continues to spread, the consequences won’t just affect Satoru or Himari—they’ll ripple through both of our families. Investors, business partners, the media—they all thrive on scandal, and we can’t afford to give them fuel. They’ll begin to wonder what else we’re keeping a secret.”

“Himari and Satoru’s relationship isn’t as stable as you think it is,” Akane counters, her tone measured but resolute. “This revelation didn’t create the cracks; it only exposed them. Maybe it’s time you and your daughter accept that.”

Emi bristles at Akane’s insinuation, her voice cold but precise. “You underestimate my daughter’s strength. Himari has always handled challenges with grace. She and Satoru will navigate this together—if you and your family stop meddling.”

Yamato cuts in, his expression calm. “Let’s not pretend this is solely about Satoru and Himari. The Nakamuras have as much to lose as we do. But let me remind you, Kenji, that this child—Koji—isn’t just a complication. He’s Satoru’s son, and that makes him family. As the adults in this situation, we also hold a certain level of accountability as for keeping this child away from public eye.”

Kenji’s jaw tightens, his composure threatening to crack. “Family or not, this boy’s existence jeopardizes everything. Himari has been nothing but supportive of Satoru, and she doesn’t deserve to be overshadowed by a damned secret from his past.”

Akane’s voice slices through the tension like a blade. “Supportive, or opportunistic? Don’t confuse loyalty with convenience. If Himari truly cared for Satoru, she’d understand that his son isn’t just a ‘secret’—he’s part of who he is now.”

The room falls silent, the weight of Akane’s words lingering. Kenji finally stands, his movements deliberate. “We’ll see how this plays out. But if you think we’ll let the Nakamura name be tarnished by this… situation, you’re mistaken.”

Yamato rises as well, his eyes locking with Kenji’s in an unspoken challenge. “And if you think we’ll allow anyone—anyone—to undermine Satoru or the Gojo legacy, you’re equally mistaken. The truth will come out, Kenji. Be prepared for it.”

With that, the couple turns and leave, their exit leaving the Gojos in a cloud of tension and unease. Akane finally speaks, her voice low but firm. “Remind me again why we are pushing through with this arrangement. The Gojo Group hardly needs Tenka Couture. We’re more than capable of standing on our own.”

Yamato exhales, running a hand through his silver hair. “It’s not about needing them, Akane. It’s about the influence. The Nakamuras have deep connections in sectors we’ve been trying to expand into—fashion, entertainment, international markets. Aligning with them strengthens our position globally. We settled this years ago, okay?”

Akane crosses her arms, her expression skeptical. “At what cost? Their arrogance alone is enough to make me question this. And let’s not even get started on Himari. She might be poised on the outside, but she lacks the fortitude to handle Satoru’s world. She clings to the spotlight, but she’s not ready for the shadows.”

Yamato’s jaw tightens. “You’re not wrong, but this arrangement was never meant to hinge on her ability to ‘handle’ Satoru. It’s a strategic move, not a personal one. I thought you understood that.”

“Strategic?” Akane’s voice rises slightly, her composed exterior slipping. “Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t just a business deal anymore. There’s a child involved now—your grandson. And yet, we’re expected to sideline him for the sake of appearances?”

Yamato’s gaze hardens, a rare flicker of emotion breaking through his typically stoic demeanor. “The boy is not being sidelined. But if this situation spirals out of control, it won’t just be Satoru’s name dragged through the mud—it’ll be Koji’s, too. I’m trying to protect all of them. As much as I dislike this situation and as much as I do not care for getting to know this boy, at the end of the day he’s connected to us.”

Akane steps closer, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And how do you expect to protect Koji by tying Satoru to someone who doesn’t have the heart to care for him? Because that’s what you’re doing, Yamato. You’re forcing a partnership that benefits no one but the Nakamuras. I’ve told you this from the start that it won’t do us good. There are plenty of other people we can contact that won’t involve forcing our son into an arranged marriage.”

For a moment, Yamato doesn’t respond. His broad shoulders sag just slightly, the weight of the conversation settling over him. “This isn’t about what’s ideal, Akane. It’s about what’s necessary. And until we find another way to stabilize this situation, the arrangement stands.”

Akane shakes her head, turning away. “Necessary, huh? Tell me, Yamato—when did we start sacrificing our family for necessity?”

Her words hover in the air as she walks out of the room, leaving Yamato standing alone, the tension thick and suffocating. He glances out the window, the city lights reflecting in his cold blue eyes. “Sometimes,” he murmurs to himself, “family is the sacrifice.”

Kenji and Emi sit in the back of the blacked out Escalade. One visibly more angry than the other. The assistant up front hands Kenji an IPad. “Here, sir.”

Kenji takes it without a word, scrolling. On the screen, a plethora of all the personal information regarding the woman who caused all this.

You.

Kenji’s grip tightens on the iPad as his sharp eyes scan the screen, each line of information making his jaw clench harder. Birthdate, address, financial records, employment history—it’s all there. How pathetic. Every detail meticulously laid out like a blueprint of your life. Beside him, Emi glances over, her expression less angered and more calculating.

“So,” she finally says, her tone icy and deliberate. “This is her.”

Kenji doesn’t reply immediately, his focus locked on the screen. An ID picture accompanied the words. The photo of you, Satoru, and Koji catches his attention, and his lips press into a thin line. The leaked photo. “The audacity,” he mutters. “She hides this little punk tyke for years, and now she’s a problem we’re forced to deal with. They both are.”

Emi tilts her head, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly against her armrest. “She doesn’t look like much. Hardly someone who should be causing this much of a stir. But appearances can be deceiving.” Her lips curl into a faint sneer. “Especially for women like her.”

“She’s more than just a stir. She’s a maddening, infuriating liability with baggage from hell,” Kenji snaps, handing the iPad back to his assistant with a flick of his wrist. “The kind that could ruin everything if we’re not careful because they themselves have nothing to lose.”

The assistant clears his throat nervously from the front seat. “Sir, should I proceed with the next steps?”

Kenji leans back in his seat, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “Not yet. I want to understand her first. How she operates. What she values. Everyone has a weakness. Once we find hers, we’ll decide the next course of action. Though, I assume it’s the ragged infant.”

Emi raises an eyebrow, her tone almost teasing. “You sound like you’re preparing for war.”

Kenji’s gaze flickers to his wife, his expression unreadable. “Aren’t we?”

The tension in the car is palpable, the low hum of the engine the only sound as they drive through the city. Emi’s lips curve into a faint smile, though her eyes remain cold. “She won’t win, Kenji. Not against us. Not against our sweet baby girl.”

“She won’t even get the chance,” Kenji replies, his voice hard and certain. “We’ll make sure of it.”

a/n: this is my present to u all!!!! happy holidays! ❤️❤️

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enwoso · 1 day ago

Text

A MERRY JOY — alessia russo x australian!reader

twelve days of christmas | day 11

based on this request

"i wish you were going to be here for christmas" alessia pouted with a sad look on her face as you hummed mirroring her pout over facetime.

"me too baby, but i'll be back just after new years" you promised as alessia nodded, she understood that you wanted to spent christmas with your family in your home country of australia but that still didn't make her wish any less that you could be by her side for the magical day.

"i know, i just miss you" alessia sighed as you had to hide the grin from appearing on your face. "and i miss you so dearly too"

"love, i’m gonna have to go. mum's wanting some help, i'll call you when i'm going to sleep — have a good day" you quickly rambled out as she nodded, "i love you" sending you a kiss through the phone as you caught it holding it close to you, sending her one in return.

"i love you too lessi"

pressing the red button after sending each other a few more kisses through the phone, you glanced around the airport as what alessia didn't know is that her christmas wish would actually come true and you would in fact be with her for christmas.

pulling a few strings and with the help of your girlfriend's older brothers you had managed to get yourself on a flight that would get you to your girlfriends childhood home for christmas morning.

so as you spoke to your girlfriend you weren't at home and your mum definitely wasn't wanting any help as she was in actual australia while you were sat in a lounge in dubai.

but luckily you had managed to find excuses and tried your best to call alessia when you had time but also when it wasn't a suspicious time in australia so alessia as far as you knew didn't suspect a thing.

boarding your last flight which would be sending you straight to london, you sent a quick message to luca, alessia's brother, to let him know you were boarding.

him quickly replying saying he would see you on the other side but also telling you were your lift would be waiting for you once you were through.

after a gruelling six hour flight you had finally landed in london and it was taking everything in you not to message or call alessia and tell her you were here but you were so close to pulling off your surprise you couldn't ruin it now.

especially not after a full day of travelling from one end of the world to the other which you were definitely starting to feel the effects of as you waiting in the line for your passport to be stamped.

your eyes feeling heavy as the man behind a screen checked your passport, "have a lovely day ma'am and merry christmas" the man spoke with such joy even with such an intimidating look as you smiled wishing him the same.

you waited for your luggage as you caught luca up and told him you should be arriving in the next hour or two depending on traffic — him just telling you about your blonde girlfriend who wasn't even awake and to be honest you don't blame her.

you wouldn't want to be awake at half seven on christmas day either.

watching out the window of the cold air that hit london as you got into the car where a driver had been waiting to take you to your girlfriend like the ending of a fairytale.

the roads winding and before you know it your on the last little stretch which takes you to her childhood home, remembering the roads from the very first time she took you home to meet her parents.

sending a quick message to luca telling him you were only a few minutes, you started to get a weird feeling in your tummy. your head wondering how she would react and how much you could wait to be back with her.

it may only have been a few weeks but those weeks had felt like years especially when your used to living together and seeing and being with each other 24/7.

getting out the cab, thanking the driver and now it was time for you plan.

place your luggage at the side of her childhood home where it couldn’t be seen from the front door.

then place the flowers which had photos of the two of you that you’d printed and placed in the bunch while in the cab. putting a card addressed to her next to it on the door mat.

hide around the side of the house, which was close enough from the front door you’d still be able to hear everything said.

ring the door bell, wait for the code word from luca. ‘maybe’

"less it's for you!" luca called back as you gave him a small thumbs up, placing the flowers you had bought from the only shop you could find open on christmas day on the doorstep.

hearing the complaints from your girlfriend as she walked to the door, luca disappearing but not too far as you had asked him to video it.

"luca there's nothing there?" alessia complained as she looked around clearly not looking down at the floor where the flowers were, "oh...awh"

"who they off?" luca asked as if it wasn't obvious with the big red roses that were in them.

"who do you think?" alessia deadpanned, holding up the note which was attached to them. "how on earth has she managed to get someone to deliver them on christmas day?" alessia asked more thinking out loud as her brother just shrugged knowing exactly how you had got them there.

"maybe you should ask her" luca shrugged his head pointing to the door where you were now stood as alessia had her back to the outside as she stood in the doorway of her front door.

"well she'll be-" alessia trailed off as she caught a glimpse of movement as she was about to move and shut the front door but instead a gasp came from her.

"oh my god-" alessia screamed seeing you as she dropped the flowers, as you stood with your arms open waiting for her to jump into them and that she basically did.

"hi lessi baby" you mumbled in her ear as she gripped you tight, you doing the same back having missed her dearly even if you had been away for only two weeks — in your two books that was a long time.

"i- how?" alessia as much as she didn't want to incase you disappeared pulled away from the hug, her hands still resting on your hips as you kept a smug smile on your face.

"well i must admit i had some help-" you paused as alessia's brow deepened before she clicked who you were looking at, "you knew!"

"well duh who do you think managed to get her here?"

alessia was still in shock as she looked at you, yous told with the biggest smile on your face which was no leaving any time soon.

“should we go inside?” you asked as you tucked a strange of her hair behind her ear noticing the goosebumps which were appearing on her arms from the cold air.

alessia nodding as she let one of her hands fall from your waist as you moved towards getting your suitcase which you’d hidden round the side where you were waiting, “i’ll get it!” alessia called out as she quickly walked in front of you to get it pushing it into her childhood home.

“luca? who was at the door?” you heard carol, alessia’s mum, call out from the kitchen as it could be heard that the front door was finally shut.

“just y/n” luca called back so casually as he made his way into the living room, leaving you and alessia to have some time for it to actually settle in that you were here.

“what- she’s in- oh y/n!” carol smiled as you walked over hugging her mum as her dad also joined in to see what the whole noise was about. you also getting a welcome hug from her dad.

“thank goodness your here, alessia’s never stopped moping about” her mum whispered in your ear as you hugged her, a small chuckle coming from you as you hummed. “so i’ve heard”

“mum, dad i love you both but can i have my girlfriend back.” alessia asked with a sweet smile as you shook your head at her clinginess. her mum and dad letting out a laugh as they passed you back assuring that you would catch them up on all things australia and what their other son, giorgio was up to while he was in your home town in australia.

“you don’t want any-“ you began to offer as alessia was beginning to drag you up the stairs, you forcing your heels in but it not exactly working from the sheer strength your girlfriend had compared to you.

“oh don’t be silly y/n, you go and spend some time with moody pants” carol chuckled as she waved off your offer before spinning on her heels to go back to help her husband prepare the christmas dinner.

“oi i heard that!” alessia pouted as you were now half way up the stairs, you reassuring the blonde with a sweet kiss as alessia kicked her door open with her foot.

your lips still on hers, a feeling you had been imaging on the plane after not seeing her for a few weeks. alessia strategically moving you around her room as the kiss grew more deeper and sloppier.

“i’ve missed you so much, my love” alessia breathed out before planting her lips back into yours, this time slipping her tongue in as your hands reached to find the back of her head drawing her in even closer — if that was even humanly possible.

the rest of the day was spent with alessia by your side, sharing kisses which you’d been longing for while you were back home. but most importantly you were just happy being in her warmth and surrounded by her family — it made christmas away from home that little bit more merry and joyful.

even if you were snuggled up fast asleep against alessia in the living room after your christmas dinner by 3pm because of jet lag, alessia fingers drawing shapes on your arms as you slept.

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #enwoso #twelve days of lana

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m0llygunn · 4 hours ago

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'tis the season (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: your sweet neighbour addresses a christmas card to both you and eddie — the only issue? she's never met eddie... so how does she know his name? eddie decides that 'tis the season for all your neighbours to know his name

cw: 18+!, christmas adjacent but you don't have to celebrate, smut, oral, fingering, pinv sex, idk mentions of dying of embarrassment, friends with benefits to more (slightly ambiguous ig) an: just a quick lil thing!!! if you liked it pls tell me or i'll pass away from lack of attention wc: 2.4k+

You didn’t think twice about it — a Christmas card that your next door neighbour dropped off to your apartment, addressed to both you and Eddie.

You should have thought twice about it — because you’ve never introduced lovely Mrs. Mabel to Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t necessarily show up to your apartment during the day time.

What you and him do… it’s more of a night time thing. You call him — sometimes he calls you — and then he drives over. Sometimes you pretend you need something fixed, sometimes it’s a jar lid that's stuck, one time it was your bedside table that was jammed — but him coming over to introduce himself to your 70 year old neighbour is highly, highly unlikely.

So when you got the card, maybe you should have thought twice about why his name was on it — but you didn’t. You were on your way out and Mrs. Mabel had left it taped to your door. You slid it into your purse, and then when you got home, you had put it down on your countertop with the thought of opening it after putting away the few groceries you had bought.

Then you just forgot about it for the night. A candle was lit, the lights were dimmed, and Eddie was speed dialed.

When he showed up, you were pouring drinks for the two of you in your kitchen — that’s when he saw the card.

“Oh?” he hummed, smiling as he slid his finger along the edge of the rustic brown coloured envelope, picking it up. “What's this?”

“Oh yeah!” you remembered. “Mrs. Mabel dropped that off earlier, I forgot to open it. It's a christmas card,” you beamed.

“Well, good thing you waited. It’s addressed for both of us,” he winked.

You didn’t understand the wink.

You didn’t understand why he was so smug either, and you didn’t ask, you were too distracted by the kitschy card, with drawings of cats wearing Santa hats wishing you and Eddie a ‘Meowy Christmas’ and a ‘Purrfect New Year’.

It was only after drinks were drunk, your bedroom was visited, and Eddie said something odd, that you started to question what exactly he meant.

His skin was still dewy where you laid your head on his chest. Both of your breaths were labored. His hand was splayed across your back, feeling extra warm.

“So… I take it that all your neighbours know my name?” He said it like he was teasing you. You didn’t understand why, but it seemed loaded.

“No? Why would they all know your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, and you could hear the mischief in his smile. He was up to something, but your eyelids were heavy, and his hand started to rub up and down your spine, and with the way your body vibrated, you could not have cared less. Whatever he was getting at could wait.

And it did wait — one whole week. Then you finally understood, and you really cared — because what the fuck.

He came over earlier than usual. He hadn’t even called, he just showed up, and with flowers. Flowers. Eddie doesn’t give you flowers, he gives you orgasms. That’s what you thought this thing was between the two of you — nothing more than late night hookups. Not flowers.

And then he dropped the bomb that he was making you dinner. Dinner. He was being so sweet, and he brought you flowers, and he was making you dinner. You can’t even remember a time where you had seen him before the sun set. Flowers. Dinner.

As he found his way through your kitchen, he made sure to get in every little touch and graze possible, even ones that were so obviously unnecessary. Like when you were washing vegetables at the sink. He pressed himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, caging you in against the sink, washing his hands in the most inconvenient position ever. It was incredibly inefficient, and it got the front of your shirt wet, but that was another thing. He peeled your shirt off you right in the kitchen. With a giggle — because this whole ordeal had left you undeniably smitten — you complained that the cotton of your shirt was cold and stuck to you, so his solution was to spin you around and lift it right up from your waist, up your chest, and over your head.

As the fabric passed over your face, you shut your eyes, only to open them to Eddie pressing a kiss to your lips. The shirt was thrown to the floor, his hands found your cheeks, and you were walked backwards until your bum pressed to the countertop. His body pressed to yours, his belt buckle jutting in the bare skin of your belly, his shirt sticking to the lace of your bra. He kissed you stupid right in the middle of your kitchen.

When you thought you were moving onto the next part of the night — forgoing dinner and heading straight to the bedroom — you were wrong.

“What’ya doing?” he murmured against your mouth. You had reached around him, blindly finding and spinning the burner off.

“Making sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”

“It won’t. We’re right here.” He pressed a string of new kisses to your lips, and you could feel his smile through every single one.

Your makeout session did not move to the bedroom.

When the timer went off, he parted from you with a final peck to your lips, and ‘for good measure’, another one to your cheek. From there on out, you… you were useless. Just a pair of wobbly legs being ordered around by a thoughtless brain. You spilled things, and knocked things over, and clattered dishes, and eventually Eddie put you on watch duty — or as he put it, ‘sit there and look pretty’ duty.

It didn’t get better either. He kept looking at you. Looking at you with dark eyes that you know too well. Dark eyes that felt deeper than anything you’ve felt before. Dark eyes that made your stomach swirl and your thighs clench. Dark eyes that you wanted in the bedroom, right now.

You tried to get him in the bedroom. From your spot sitting on the countertop, you tried to hook a pointed foot around his thigh as he stirred honestly over a steaming pan. You tried to give him the same eyes back. You tried — oh god, you tried.

And you know what he did? He set the table. Lit a candle, set out glasses, lined up forks and knives. Got you a new shirt to wear. Filled your plates, got you both napkins, pulled your chair out for you.

You wanted him more than anything.

And then you got him.

The table was never cleared. Clothes were shed before either of you were past your bedroom door. Your hands were tugging at his boxers, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his kindness — how much you enjoyed the impromptu flowers and dinner.

He had other plans.

He laid you down and spread you out. Put his mouth to use — held both your hands as he did it too. It had your chest squeezing in a soft way, and your hips moving in a way you could not control.

“Eddie,” you moaned, as he licked at your sensitive spot, pushing you just over the point of too much pleasure. You already came once but he decided that you deserved much more than that.

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Mhm, so good, Eddie — fuck,” you gasped as your pleasure quickly became overstimulating. He rearranged your intertwined mess of hands, taking both of yours in one of his, freeing up the other to move down your body and meet his mouth at your core.

Two fingers were pushed into your already convulsing cunt. You barely had a moment to come down, and he was barreling past that point, moving you onto your next orgasm. His fingers curled, and your whole body tensed.

“Eddie — E-Eddie,” you said, voice rising as your hips began to buck, thighs jerking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Eddie,” you whined, like it was a real answer and not just his name. Like he should know what he's doing to you — and he does, but to your ignorance, this is exactly what he wants.

“I know — I know, feels good, huh?”

And it did. His fingers felt great, but him properly filling you up felt better. As soon as he sunk his length into you, you were a goner.

With your legs folded, ankles sitting over his shoulders, blankets gathered where you fisted them in your hands, and your toes curled tightly, Eddie fucked you. Sincerely, amorously, hard.

Every snap of his hips to yours, every crude, wet noise, every creak of the bed, was hidden well beneath the way you panted and whined — and Eddie just goaded you on.

“Yeah? Right there? That's where it feels good?”

“Yes, right — right there,” you answered devotedly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how you want it,” he grunted, bringing a soft hand to your cheek and running it upwards, pushing back the baby hairs on your forehead.

“Harder,” you answered, meeting his gaze.

“Harder…?’ He smiled, trailing off to prompt you. Just as he did, he let his hips find yours with extra vigour, grinding upwards into you, his cock pressing right against your g-spot with the perfect angle to get a full-body reaction from you. He continued, rolling his hips in a quick rhythm, giving you exactly what you asked for, harder.

“Eddie,” you gasped, body being pressed up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust.

“You like saying my name don’t you? Hm? Sounds so pretty when you say it.”

You should have put it together right there. But you didn’t. You just got louder.

“Eddie — fuck — Eddie!”

“I know. I got you, baby,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face as he purposefully did exactly what he needed to do to get his intended reaction from you.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

One final press of his pelvis to your sensitive clit, one final graze of his cock to that special spot inside of you, one final gasp of his name, and you were coming. Coming harder than you had tonight, harder than you ever had in your whole life.

You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever.

Pleasure coursing through you, spreading everywhere from your ten fingers to your ten toes, your mind blank apart from the pure adoration you had for the man who laid overtop of you, cumming inside of you at that very moment. The man who surprised you and brought you flowers and cooked you dinner.

Oh, and not to mention how, in that moment, you were so blissfully ignorant to a spectacularly embarrassing fact. So naive, so ignorant. So stupid.

Eddie was a sweetheart. Continued to be a sweetheart, actually. After giving the two of you time to settle, he eventually got up, helped clean you up, cleaned himself up, and then got back into bed with you to cuddle. Cuddling has been a normal thing for the two of you, but his smile as he cozied up close to you, with the way his lips rounded at the corners, and his dimples were so deeply set, it was not the normal, bliss-filled, post-orgasm smile. It was different, it was mischievous, and a touch unsettling.

“What?” you eventually caved, smiling back at him as he gave you a dramatic side eye paired with a raised brow — he's been waiting for you to ask him what's on his mind.

He grinned at you, canines poking out with all his glee. He dropped his head to your fluffed pillow, tugged you in closer, and looked at you like he was about to spill some hot, gossipy pillowtalk.

“Think all your neighbours know my name now?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, weaving together in the centre, because what does that have to do with anything? ‘What?’ sat on the tip of your tongue, but just as he wiggled his brow, giving you a pointed look, waiting for you to put it all together, it finally hit you. It hit you like a brick to the head. A brick to the head off of a three story building. Beyond painful.

The reason Mrs. Mabel, dear, sweet, elderly, Mrs. Mabel knew Eddie’s name to write it on your Christmas card: thin walls, his talent, your loud mouth.

“No,” you gasped, jaw dropping.

“No?” He scrunched his forehead upwards, eyes widening, leaning in even closer to you to absorb the full extent of your shock. “Because I think they do,” he smirked, voice rising with amusement. Finding your waist under the blankets, he curled his fingers into your flesh. You squirmed, grabbing his hand and holding him still. This is serious.

“Eddie,” you frowned, squeezing his hands before pushing them out from under the blankets and away. He let you, watching you through bright eyes, loving every minute of your humiliation.

“Yes, sweetheart, that is my name,” he practically sang.

“That’s so embarrassing.” You let your body shrink into the mattress, turning to hide your face in the pillow. You whined out a long groan, ridding your body of every ounce of breath in your lungs. If you were a lucky person, you would have suffocated. Died right there and rid yourself of all your mortal shame.

“Nobody complained, I think they’re fine with it.” His hand became a heavy weight of your waist, coaxing you out from the pillow while rubbing your back.

“I’m not fine with it,” you said abruptly, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned your neck to look at Eddie. “Mrs. Mabel… she… she — ”

Eddie finished your sentence — “She gave us a Christmas card. She’s not upset,” he smiled, leaning in once again, this time to press a kiss to your forehead.

He's wrong. You know it, but you don't have the will to fight it. So instead you rolled your eyes, sighing as you laid your head back down to your pillow.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Oh really?” Eddie teased, his mischievous tone contradicting the gentle way he pulled the blanket up for you, covering your shoulders and tucking it under your chin. “I don’t recall me being annoying a few minutes ago?” He took a deep inhale. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie —” he began to chant, voice pitched up mockingly, volume way too loud.

“Shush,” you scolded him, jumping forward, fighting to free your arms from the blanket to smack both of your hands over his mouth. His voice vibrated behind your palms, and his laughter stuck to your skin as you forcibly shut him up.

Your neighbours clearly already knew his name, but if they didn’t, they definitely do now.

thank you for reading! happy holidays <333333

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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emotionally-cuckolded · 1 day ago

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"It seems he really needs me to be with him -- and needs to have a lot of sex with me -- to help him through this lonely holiday period, hun. Which does make sense, don't you think? And after all the rejection he felt when his wife left him, I have promised him that he won't have to use protection and that this will be my fertile time. It really would be a huge boost to his self-esteem and feelings of masculinity if he were to get me pregnant -- so I've also promised him that even if I'm not pregnant after the holidays that I'll make you use protection after that but will keep having unprotected sex with him -- at least until he's successful at impregnating me. You do understand, don't you hun?"

The idea of having to go through the holiday period alone, while your wife is with your best friend, having lots of sex and actively trying to get pregnant with him, doesn't thrill you, but it would seem mean and thoughtless to object, so begrudgingly you agree that she is doing the best, and kindest, and sweetest, thing by spending the next two weeks with him.

"Just give me a few minutes to pack what I need, and then you can drive me over to his place" your wife then said. It was then that you realized that because she would be with him on Xmas, you would have to give her your present now. It would not be a surprise -- because every year you gave her the same thing -- some very sexy lingerie, which she would wear for you on Xmas night. But this year was going to be different, and you started to think that maybe you should hold off on giving her the gift until after she came back home a few days after New Years. As you were thinking that, your wife emerged from the bedroom, saw you with the gift in your hand, and laughingly said:

"Oh sweetie. I suddenly realized you would have to give me your gift now -- and you realized the same thing!". With a smile you handed it to her and she quickly unwrapped it, then held up the sexy red bra and panty set you had purchased for her. "Oh WOW" she said. "It is SO SEXY. He's going to LOVE IT when I wear it for him on Christmas night. And in fact, I think I'll tell him that you bought it as a gift for both me and for him! I think he'll like the idea that you wanted to do whatever you could to help me be as sexy as possible for him."

Your wife then smiled at you, and said: "Sweetie -- uh -- this is a little awkward, but anyway -- While I'm with him for the next two weeks or so, I'm sure he will want to take me out on some really nice dates, but the thing is, I know that because of the cost of his divorce he is pretty much broke right now -- so -- I was thinking that it would be really nice of you if, when you drop me off there today, you could kind of quietly (so as not to make him feel embarrassed) hand him one of your credit cards to use when he takes me out. OK? You will! Wonderful. You really are being so understanding about this."

She then continued: "And yes, of course sweetie, you also realize that for the big New Years Eve party that our friends always have, that he and I will go to that as a couple, so you probably shouldn't show up this year. I wouldn't want him to think that I wouldn't want our friends to see me with him or even for him to think that I would rather go to the party with you than with him. That might hurt his feelings, so the plan is for me to be there with him and to be affectionate with him in front of all our friends. That should really make him feel good about himself I think."

And with that, you took your wife's suitcase to the car and drove her to your best friend's house. When you arrived you walked up to the door with your wife -- carrying her suitcase, and when your friend opened the door, you simply handed him the suitcase, wished him happy holidays, and then stepped back as your wife walked in and received a hug and kiss from your friend, who then, with his arm around your wife's shoulders, waved goodbye to you and shut the door -- leaving you to return home alone while you knew they were headed to the bedroom.

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seafoamreadings · 1 day ago

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week of december 22nd, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: there is still some ongoing nodal weirdness for you, showing you what obstacles on your path to clear and how, or perhaps doing it for you. and a new moon late this week (and into early next) helps you to form new goals and intentions around career or your reputation.

taurus: with mercury now safely direct, and opposing jupiter, this can be a good time for investments and sharing resources. just be warned that there is still some time in the so-called shadow period, and things may not go perfectly smoothly. still, the jupiter influence is positive.

gemini: jupiter is in your sign and your ruling planet mercury is in jupiter's home sign. while this is mostly a positive situation you may also encounter some mild misunderstandings this week so try to remain patient.

cancerians: a slightly wistful quality saturates the space around you. it's not exactly sad, but it has a sweet melancholy flavor to it. the moon is waning and especially at the end of the week you might find yourself a little bit obsessive, unable to focus on what really matters in favor of digging around in the past. try to let go. you're not leaving it behind forever, but you're at risk of missing a lot of wonderful things coming up later.

leo: don't save up all your goals to be new year's resolutions. this week is the perfect time to start a new habit, or end one that doesn't do you well. but you're responsible for generating your own glow this week, so even if you don't feel up for vanquishing all hard tasks, at least try not to wallow too much.

virgo: capricorn season suits you. go out of your way to have fun, without going too crazy. it's a dionysian sort of week ahead and it should be enjoyed without leading to regrettable consequences.

libra: strange fated occurrences continue with this week's ongoing nodal activations. this time the themes are centered more on challenging your egoic thoughts. not that you're full of yourself, but the ego in the sense of what your conditioning makes you. a lot of cardinal sign friction gives you some irritation and yet it leads to opportunities to change old patterns if you wish, or solidify them if you like what you have going on already.

scorpio: if you can afford to make an investment of some kind (and be honest with yourself about that, no rash decisions here!) it is a great week to do so. if you find you cannot afford it financially, think about what things are a good investment of your time, energy, or other resources.

sagittarius: this is a good week to start catching up on anything that fell behind in the last month or so. you also have a new moon coming up in your 2nd house, so it is the perfect time to start setting intentions and goals around money and your various resources. however, this should involve other people as little as possible at this time, outside of communications and transactions. no loans, debts, or shared bank accounts or real estate if you can help it.

capricorn: it's now capricorn season and the moon is waning to newness it won't quite perfect until next week. so while it's certainly not a bad idea to think and plan and scheme, hold off on really planting any seeds until at least the weekend.

aquarius: there are two aspects this week of mutual reception and one of them involves venus in your sign squaring your ruling planet uranus. the other is all good news, and this one isn't horrible either, but you may experience some clashes of values especially where your family of origin is concerned.

pisces: mercury retrograde may seem to have lasted longer for you than others, or to have restarted itself some how. it's due to a square with saturn in your sign if so. don't push yourself to think faster than you are naturally doing, and don't force communications that aren't going through. it'll all straighten out soon enough.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

check out my etsy for a private reading or dm or email me ([email protected]) to set up a reading through venmo, cashapp, or paypal.

#horoscopes #horoscope #weekly horoscopes #weekly horoscope #astrology #zodiac #signs #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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wetcatspellcaster · 1 year ago

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Happy holidays! I'm very grateful for YOU this year! It's been pretty bad, and I swear, getting an email notification that you've posted something has made my entire week! I've just been spelunking about wondering what's going to happen next, and it's been feeding my own creativity a lot :) I hope you've had a good one, and will continue to have good ones going forward (and good luck on the PhD!)

Hey! Happy holidays sweetie, what a lovely message to receive. Thank you for taking the time to write it!

I'm really sorry that your year hasn't been good - writing fic is one of my mental health lifelines so it's nice to hear that it helps someone else endure The Horrors as well. In turn, I am very grateful for readers who decide to spend their free time with my work and give me more motivation to continue writing :)

My Christmas is a little hit and miss (alas, tummy hurty) but my year overall has been good, I've come very, very far from where I was at the start of 2023! Fingers crossed that continues, and that I can pass that positivity on to others including you :) xx

#asks #lovely words from lovely people #personal tag #wishing you good things for this next week and the new year !

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 month ago

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Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 1)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

"Daddy? Can I ask you something?" Your and Charles' four-year-old daughter Louise, asks.

She was sitting in her car seat in the backseat of Charles car while he was driving her back to your place in Monaco. It was Sunday evening, the weekend was coming to an end and with that, Charles' time with his daughter for the week was also over.

"Of course, cherie. What is it?" He asked, briefly looking away from the road in front of him to look at his daughter behind him.

"When are you going to live with me and mommy again?" She asked innocently batting her big black eyelashes and waiting for an answer.

Charles's heart broke a little when he heard. This was the first she had asked him that since Charles had moved out of your shared apartment a year ago, and there was no way he could have prepared himself for this question.

"Oh, baby.." He sighed sadly with a pain in his chest. "I-I don't know. Maybe one day again, I hope.."

"But I want you to live with us now. I don't like it when you have to leave us."

He really didn't know what to say to her. He didn't even know how to explain the situation you found yourself in to himself, let alone to her. He could see Louise whenever he wanted, but this was some kind of agreement that the two of you had and most often it was that you had her during the week and he had her on his race-free weekends even tho sometimes he took her with him on races as well. So moments like this, when Sunday night comes and he has to return Louise to you by next Friday, were the hardest for him.

"I know, baby. I do too, it's just that at the moment, that's not possible, you know?" He said quietly tightening his grip on the steering wheel and leaning his head on the back of the seat.

"But mommy wants you to live with us too. I don't understand why don't you then?"

"Wh-what?" His breath paused briefly as he looked at Louise in the rearview mirror. "How do you know that, Lou?"

"Well, I asked her?" She sighs almost rolling her eyes at him, like, duhh how else would I know it?

"You asked her?" He chuckles. "And what did she say?"

"She said the same thing as you, maybe one day again. But I want to know when!" She says already irritated with always the same answer to her always the same question.

"Well, my love, if mom really said that, then I hope very soon." Charles says smiling, hope clearly audible in his voice. He wanted you to reconcile and be a family again so much that even this was enough to lift his spirits and restore hope in your relationship.

The drive to your apartment is over and soon Charles is knocking on your door holding Lou in his arms.

"Hello, baby!" You say excitedly as you opened the door, reaching out to Lou to take her in your arms.

"Hello" Charles greets you smiling.

"Hey, Charles" You greet him back taking Lou in your arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "How was the weekend? Was she good?"

"Of course, as always. We went to get new toys, her grand-mère came to visit and then we went for a walk and for ice cream. It was a lot of fun." Charles says.

"You got new toys, missy? Again?" You ask tickling her and making her laugh. "Good, good. Well, thanks for bringing her back."

"It's no problem. The next weekend is the race weekend so unfortunately I won't be able to have her."

"I know, I know." You say biting the inside of your cheek feeling a bit bad knowing how hard that was for him. "Are you gonna say bye to papa?"

"Can papa put me to bed?" Louise asked.

"But it's only 8:30 baby? You wanna go to sleep already?"

"But I want daddy to do it." She says.

You were a little taken aback because you felt like she didn't want you to do it like you usually do, but of course you didn't want to deny her her wish for Charles to be the one to do it this time.

"Well, if he wants to, then sure" You say looking at him.

"Of course I want to. Come here, baby" He takes her back from your arms kissing her temple and starts walking with her to her room.

You didn't follow them because you decided to let them have a moment for themselves, but you couldn't help but remember the nights you and Charles used to do it together. Him on one side of the bed, you on the other, Lou in the middle while Charles reads a bedtime story and you both listen.

You really missed that.

You really missed him.

But it was hard for you to admit it so you swallowed your tears once again and pretended it didn't bother you.

And so while Charles was putting your daughter to sleep, you occupied yourself with sorting the laundry that was left over from earlier today in your bedroom. After about half an hour, Charles came to greet you goodbye knocking on the door frame of your bedroom.

"Hey"

"Oh, hey. Did she fall asleep?" You asked.

"Yeah, she-" His attention was soon caught by an oversized black man's hoodie that was turned inside out and lying on your bed. His gaze was glued to it, and for a moment you weren't sure what he was looking at, so you looked in that direction too.

"I can't believe it" He sneered in disappointment.

"What?"

"Are you really having someone else here in our bedroom when Lou is with me?"

"Excuse me? What? What are you-" You were shocked and stunned by his accusations.

It was indeed a man's hoodie. But since it was turned inside out, Charles didn't recognize that it was actually his sweatshirt that he had forgotten to take when he moved out, and you loved it so much that you never wanted to give it back to him. And Charles being Charles, he jumped to a conclusion without letting you have a chance to speak and explain yourself.

"I can't believe it, y/n. You could have at least let me know that you decided to move on and see other people." He continued without stopping and anger slowly rose within you. "And how can you even bring him here? To our apartment? To our bedroom?"

You were offended and you didn't even want to justify yourself anymore, you just wanted to hurt him back because he thought such a thing.

"And why do you care if someone was here, huh?" You asked crossing your arms.

"Why do I care? Because while you're busy having other guys over here, our daughter is asking me if we'll ever live together again. That's why!" He said angrily, barely holding back from slamming his fist against the wall because he was so hurt by this situation and the very thought of you being with someone else.

"S-she asked you that?"

"Yes and I almost died when she did."

You didn't know what to do at that moment. You were sad and angry at the same time, but most of all hurt for your daughter. Before you could say anything, Charles turned and left the room.

As soon as the apartment door closed, you burst into tears. He left before you could tell him that it was actually his hoodie and that at nights when you can't sleep, like you couldn't last night, you put it on because it feels like he's there.

He didn't even give you time to tell him that you wear it when you miss him too much. Just like you did last night.

part 2

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #f1 smut #f1 x female reader #f1 one shot #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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motorsportbarbie13 · 1 month ago

Text

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3

In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.

Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List

(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)

Monaco May 2024

F1GossipOfficial posted

34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml

Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted

493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??

Amalfi Coast August 2024

maxverstappen1 posted

987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too

October 2024 Austin, Texas

You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.

While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.

Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.

While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.

You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.

After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.

While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.

Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.

"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.

You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."

"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."

Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.

"How far are you from the track?"

You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."

"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"

Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.

"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.

You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.

Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.

Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.

Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.

The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.

And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.

Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.

You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.

"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.

"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."

yourpersonalinsta posted

348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)

It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.

You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.

"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."

John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.

"She said yes."

You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.

Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.

"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."

Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.

Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.

"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."

Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.

"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."

"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.

"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."

You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"

You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"

"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."

You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."

You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.

"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.

You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."

"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"

You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.

"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."

You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"

Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."

The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"

yourpersonalinsta story post

story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.

TheYappingHour posted

876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day

Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:

You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?

Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!

You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.

Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!

You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!

Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.

You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.

Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.

You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?

Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.

You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!

Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.

TheYappingHour posted

1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby

"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.

"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."

You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.

Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.

"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.

"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."

Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.

"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."

"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.

A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.

************************************************************************

It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.

A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.

"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.

Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."

You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.

"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."

Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.

As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.

He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?

Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.

Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.

Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.

"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"

Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.

"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."

Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.

"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.

"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"

And that's exactly what he does.

yourpersonalinsta posted

938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.

Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #formula one fluff

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hairmetal666 · 6 months ago

Text

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #secret identity #gossip column #first kiss #getting together #steve harrington writes a gossip column #steve harrington is lady whistledown #eddie discovers steve's secret identity #they makeout about it #obviously erica becomes the tattler when she gets to high school. obviously

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lollixp0p · 11 months ago

Text

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!!

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

#cupid♡writing #sub!idol #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #dividers by cafekitsune

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princesssmars · 6 months ago

Text

you sometimes forget how… slightly obsessive, violet could be. nsfw.

when you were younger you had a love hate relationship with her tendency to become so completely fixated on something. staying up for hours at night thinking about their next score, holding a grudge for years against anyone who got piss drunk and pissed off vander in the bar, planning and fidgeting over the perfect way to ask you out for weeks before you finally took the step yourself.

even if it got her into danger, got her and her siblings into a temporary struggle that made your heart stall with the thought of nearly losing them, you always reminded her that you thought her fixation on things was cute, and a useful tool about half of the time.

(you even said that the trait reminded you of powder, always blabbering to you for as long as she could talk about her new ideas for gadgets and bombs. the girl was overjoyed in sharing something in common with her big sister, immediately climbing on her back to ramble about something new.)

but then you actually you lost her. you lost all of them. and you wished you had told her that that insecurity she had, all the insecurities she had, were stupid and inconsequential to how perfect you thought she was.

but maybe you’ll get the chance to tell her (and tell jinx that yeah, you were right, i did start seeing ghosts too) because a scarily realistic replica of your ex is standing in front of you and before you can shoo it away she’s hugging you so tight you think your ribs will break.

you follow as ekko gives her the tour of the firelights base, admiring each and every way she’s changed. she’s taller, obviously stronger, wearing a prison uniform that you don’t if you’re allowed to say looks good on her and a red jacket she stole from some guy because of course she did. you stifle a laugh as she tells the story and she smiles at you, indiscreetly wrapping your hand in hers.

it’s obvious by the look on his face ekko is so going to tease you about this later, but you don’t get a chance to care when she turns to you and ask where she and her enforcer friend can sleep. and janna knows you want to offer for her to sleep with you, but it’s been years and you don’t want to make her uncomfortable so you lead her and caitlyn to the newbie dorms.

but it seems like you’ve forgotten just how damn stubborn she is, because not even half an hour later a loud banging at your draws you from your bed, her flushed and nervous face shocking you into silence.

she asks to come in, but with her it’s always more like a demand then a question. you try to ignore the burning feeling of her eyes trained on you as you lead her to your bed, rolling your eyes as she aggressively flops back onto it.

“holy fuck, i haven’t been on something this soft in years. i think i’m gonna fall asleep right now.”

“i wouldn’t be mad if you did.” well, you’d be a little upset. you have so much to talk to her about everything, anything that’s happened since she disappeared. granted a lot of it was bad but there were still a few things you think would cheer her up. she’d already told you enthusiastic she was to eat jerichos again, just wait till she found out that-

you must of zoned out for a minute because you’re shocked back to reality by soft lips pressed to yours, vi’s bandaged hand cupping your cheek like you’ll fade into dust if she lets go. you mentally kick yourself in the head for not responding quicker when she pulls away and looks at you with that sad puppy look she gets.

“i, i’m sorry. it’s just, you were staring at me for a while! and it’s been so long since i’ve seen you and i don’t even know what we are or if we’re still girlfriends but you’re even more beautiful than the last time i saw you-“

you cup both of her cheeks in your hands,(maybe a little too hard) give her a second to back away if she wants, and pull her back in. her arms wrap around your waist and she lets out a whimper when your hand travels to the back of her neck to pull her closer and closer-

and now it’s around one hour? maybe two? it’s a while later, and as her hand travels back into you for the fourth time, yeah, you’re starting to remember how obsessive she could be.

“vi, baby - oh my gods, y’know you can slow down!” your voice pitches when her fingers, her beautiful long and big fingers push up against that spot inside you, her other hand keeping your hips down when you involuntarily raise them off the sheets.

“don’t think i can, princess.” she groans into your breast as she sucks another path of bruises down your chest, slate eyes amused at how your hands grip the bed like it stole from you, how your mouth opens so cutely before you bite your lips to hold back your sounds.

her mouth finally closes around your clit and the increased sensitivity from your past orgasms combined with the almost growling sound she makes when she tastes you sends you right over the edge, thighs clamping around her head as she carries you through it.

the rubbing of her rough hands over your thighs and her gentle words of praise merry drag you into the beginnings of a soft slumber.

until you can feel the damn brute lift your legs onto her shoulders and stick her tongue inside you, laughing at your shocked squeal and resumed grip on her hair.

“besides, we’ve gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”

writing a drabble based on the fic you’re writing instead of finish the fic i’m such a genius like 😍😍 glad her tag is coming back but i want content coming out like a factory line ok everyone get to work 🙏🏽

#arcane #arcane x reader #vi #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi smut #vi x reader smut

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trashytracktales · 4 days ago

Note

omg I LOVE your writings, its my first time ever requesting one, hope u can write it (if u dont like it i would completely understand)

i was thinking about some lando thing, where his girlfriend is reading some spicy book and he accidentally reads some lines and the room gets hot lol, and when everything its done he is just the fluffiest boyfriend of the world

hope u are doing good🩵

By the book | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I genuinely had so much fun with this one, thank you so much for the request. Hopefully this is a nice first experience 😉🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── When boredom leads him to a new world, intense and full of possibilities, Lando wants to prove to his girlfriend that despite the perfect moments in her erotic books, the real deal is still better than fiction.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, edging, teasing, roleplay elements, Max F. cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.7k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 19, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys! I’ve got a couple more one-shots coming your way before the year wraps up, and I just wanted to thank you all so much for your patience and support. It means the world to me 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE FAINT GLOW from Lando’s monitors is the only light in the room, casting faint shadows over his side of the bed. It’s pretty late — later than it probably should be for him to start a streaming session — but Max insisted, and Lando figured it was either this or mindlessly scrolling through his infinite feed until falling asleep. His headset lies next to his keyboard, untouched, as he waits for his best friend to finish whatever pre-stream rituals he’s currently busy with.

From the en suite bathroom, the sound of running water echoes like ambient noise, muffled by the walls yet delicate, while his girlfriend showers. He glances at the door, thinking about how she had kissed him on the forehead just a few minutes ago, hair piled on top of her head in that messy bun he secretly loves. She had told him to have fun streaming, flashing him a sweet smile that made him wish she weren’t about to leave him alone to his boredom.

Lando sighs, spinning slightly in his chair, his gaze randomly falling to the nightstand on her side of the bed. A stack of books rests there unbothered, as it always does, each spine a different color. She goes through them so quickly that he can never keep up with what she’s reading now versus what she finished last week, that's why, normally, he doesn’t pay them much attention. But tonight, in the thick silence, with Max still not ready and the hum of the bathroom as his only company, he reaches for the book at the top of the stack.

The cover is intricate and inviting — soft, watercolor-like strokes of flowers in muted tones frame a bold, serif title. There’s no hint of what it’s about, and when he flips it over, the description on the back isn’t much help, either.

“Vague as hell,” he mutters under his breath after reading it.

He flips the book open, thumbing through the pages, noticing that she's halfway through it, with a scattering of sticky tabs peeking out from various places. A glance at the pages confirms his girlfriend’s habit of underlining sentences and jotting tiny notes in the margins. He smirks to himself, picturing her curled up on the couch, pen in hand, diligently marking her favorite parts, as she always does.

He stops at one of the tabs — a pink one — curiosity getting the best of him. The text beneath is neatly underlined, with a couple of notes scribbled faintly in the margin. His eyes skim over the words, and then he freezes, blinking at what he’s just read.

His hands roamed my bare skin with a deliberate slowness, mapping every curve, every dip. I gasped when his fingers dipped lower, teasing just enough to make me squirm beneath him. “Patience, my love,” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with desire. “I'll give you what you need.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, while his eyebrows shoot higher on his forehead. His fingers tighten slightly on the book as his eyes dart to the highlighted lines. She’s underlined “I'll give you what you need” and scrawled something next to it — he squints to make it out.

‘OMG. The tension here is insane,’ it reads, followed by ‘On. My. Knees’.

His pulse quickens, and he feels a flicker of heat low in his stomach.

Suddenly, Lando realizes how intimate it is to rummage through her annotations, as they are pure, unfiltered emotions, evoked by scenes that obviously awakened something in her when she read them, and now he feels way too guilty to continue.

But not enough to stop.

He flips ahead, stopping at another pink tab, as if he's on autopilot, guided by sheer curiosity alone.

My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, until there was no space left between us. His mouth was everywhere — on my lips, my collarbone, the sensitive skin of my nipples. I trembled as he kissed his way lower, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I moaned his name, breathless, as he looked up at me with a smirk that promised more.

Lando swallows hard. He shifts in his chair, hyperaware of the heat creeping up his neck. He tells himself to stop, to close the book and put it back, but he can’t seem to help himself.

“You liked that, don’t you?” he asked in a whispered tone. I whimpered in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body arched into his touch. “You did, my good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “Keep being good, and you'll get to cu—”

He sucks in a sharp breath, snapping the book closed. His mind betrays him, conjuring images of her beneath him, her breath hitching the way it does when he teases her, her hands clutching at him as she whispers his name in pleasure.

His jaw clenches, and he drags a hand through his hair, all too aware of the way the air has changed inside the room. Luckily, the vibration of his phone on the desk jolts him back to reality. He startles, nearly dropping the book in his lap.

Scrambling to grab his phone, he sees a text from Max:

“Shit,” Lando mutters under his breath.

He rushes to put the book back where he found it, his movements momentarily clumsy. He’s acutely aware of the way his body feels now — tense, restless, hot — as he makes himself more comfortable in his chair, tugging his headset over his ears.

The monitor flickers to life as Max joins the call, his voice loud and cheery in Lando’s ear. “Finally, mate! Thought you fell asleep or something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando replies, his voice a little strained. “Let’s just get started.”

By the time she's done with showering and coming out of the bathroom dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts and towel-drying her hair, Lando is fully immersed in his racing game. She pauses in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a small smile on her face, and he catches her eye briefly, following her as she crosses the room, the t-shirt swallowing her frame entirely. He gives her a quick nod before returning his focus to the screens, while she climbs onto the bed and grabs the book from her nightstand, settling in against the pillows to read.

At that, Lando finds himself smirking.

It’s hard not to, knowing what’s tucked between those pages now. His fingers twitch on the steering wheel, but he keeps driving, throwing himself into the rave to avoid getting distracted.

“Mate, you’re lagging behind,” Max calls out through the headset, breaking Lando’s focus.

“Yeah, mate. Don't worry, I’m here,” he replies, steering his car to catch up.

Time passes in a blur of laughter, strategy, and the occasional curse as he and Max trade wins and losses. At some point, she gets up from the bed, her book left open and facedown on the comforter. Lando watches out of the corner of his eye as she pads over to him, stopping just out of frame.

“Want some tea?” she asks quietly, her voice careful not to interrupt his live stream.

Lando glances up at her briefly, his lips curling into a small smile. His hand leaves the steering wheel, trailing to the back of her thigh, his fingers traveling up slowly, squeezing the soft curve of her ass.

“Yeah,” he whispers, the word leaving him on a smirk.

Her breath catches in her throat at his touch, and she shoots him a pointed look, though the pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

She swats his hand away lightly, protesting quietly, “Behave,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

TWO HOURS LATER, the game session finally winds down. Lando thanks the chat, throws a parting joke at Max, and shuts down his stream with a satisfied sigh. He swivels in his chair to find his girlfriend still awake, her book now resting on her stomach while she scrolls idly on her phone.

She glances at him and smiles kindly, watching as he heads to the bathroom, but when he gets back a few minutes later, he’s wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a wide smile. His skin glows faintly from the shower, and water droplets cling to the sharp angles of his collarbone.

Lando approaches the bed slowly, his gaze fixed on her. She looks up from her phone as he slides in beside her, his presence warm and familiar. Without a word, he takes the book from her stomach, his fingers brushing hers lightly as he closes it and sets it back on the nightstand. Then, he leans down, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that’s soft but full of intent — definitely not the kind that he uses to send her to sleep. Quite the opposite. It makes her hum against his lips, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his chest as she kisses him back.

“You’re still wet,” she notices, pushing Lando lightly to look at him.

When he pulls away, his voice drops, small but teasing. “We can both be,” says Lando.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, not tonight, buddy. You took too long, and I’m sleepy from all the reading.”

“Come on, just wrap your legs around my waist, and pull me closer, until there is no space left between us,” he murmurs the words deliberately.

For a second, her heart skips a beat, her eyes widening slightly as she registers his sentence. Blood rushes to her cheeks and beyond, her pulse quickening.

“What?” she asks, giving him a puzzled look.

Lando’s smirk deepens. He leans closer, letting his breath fan over her ear as he continues, his tone overly suggestive. “What? You don’t want my mouth everywhere? On your lips, your collarbone, the sensitive skin of your nipples?”

Her breath hitches, and her lips part in surprise. Her mind starts spinning as the words he’s quoting — the ones she underlined so carefully in her book — fall from his mouth.

“Lando,” she says cautiously, her voice shaky.

“Hm?” he asks innocently, his fingers ghosting over her hip beneath the t-shirt. “I hope it's okay, I’m just trying to remember what you liked so much. What else was there? Something about… good girls?”

She swats at his chest, but there’s no real force behind it. “You’ve been reading my stuff!”

His laughter is quiet, but there’s heat in his gaze as he leans down to kiss her again, this time deeper, as if he has a purpose.

When Lando pulls back just enough to catch her gaze, his eyes are glinting with mischief. His hand trails up her side, his thumb slowly brushing the soft curve of her waist through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“And? What’s that about, baby?” he asks. “Don't you want to be my good girl?”

She lets out a soft laugh, a mix of flustered and amused, and presses a hand to his chest. “For the record, you’re not allowed to touch my books anymore,” she says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when her cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, leaning closer, his lips brushing her skin. “I think I learned a lot. Like how you’re into being told what to do, and being touched like this,” he continues, tracing the pads of his fingers up and down her body.

“Lando,” she protests, but her voice wavers, her breath hitching when his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe.

“You marked all the good bits for me,” he says, his mouth trailing along her neck, placing soft, lingering kisses there. “Made it so easy, really.”

She shakes her head, trying to maintain her composure, but the warmth of his lips and the purposeful way his hands roam her body make it impossible. “You’re being ridiculous,” she whispers.

“And you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” he counters, his lips hovering just above hers. His tone shifts, teasing, giving way to something more profound. “Just know that if you ever want to recreate something from your books... all you need to do is ask, yes?”

Her breath catches as Lando’s fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upward. She lifts her arms without hesitation, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside.

“And if you can't tell me, just underline the scenes,” he continues, smirking down at her. “I'll figure it out.”

“Lando…” her voice is much softer now, her eyes searching his, but he silences her with another kiss. Slow and lazy, his tongue dancing with hers on a rhythm only they know.

His hands move over her bare skin, stopping on her waist, then continuing until one of them curls around her neck, “My good girl,” whispers Lando against her lips, echoing the words from her book. “What should I do with you?”

She laughs softly, but it turns into a gasp as his lips leave hers, trailing down over her collarbone, while he squeezes lightly at her neck. He pauses to nip at the delicate dip at the base of her throat, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She smells like her vanilla body lotion, a faint scent that drives him wild.

“You don’t—” she tries to say something, but his mouth moves lower, and her words dissolve into a soft moan as he presses kisses across the swell of her breast, moving his hand on top of it to squeeze the flesh there.

“Relax, baby,” he says, looking up at her briefly, his expression a mix between adoration and pure need. “Just let me play by the book, yeah?”

Her cheeks burn at the intensity in his gaze, but she doesn’t look away. Her hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as his kisses travel lower, across her stomach, his tongue darting out to trace wet patterns against her skin.

When he reaches the waistband of her shorts, he glances up again, his fingers toying with the elastic. “Can I?” he asks softly, his voice full of want.

She nods, her breath shaky, and lifts her hips to help him slide them down her legs.

Lando kisses along her inner thighs, taking his time, savoring the way her body reacts to every little, torturous touch. She’s already trembling under him, anticipation coiling in her stomach as he hooks his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

“So ready for me, hm?” asks Lando, reaching for a pillow, and sliding it beneath the small of her back, adjusting her gently until she’s perfectly positioned for him. “Every time I open your pretty legs, fucking hell.”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip as she feels his hot breath falling over her skin. The first swipe of his tongue along her slit has her gasping, her head falling back on the mattress, unable to keep her eyes on him. Lando groans, the sound reverberating through her, his movements teasing, as always.

Her hands find his hair, threading through the damp strands as she arches toward him, desperately wanting to feel the heat of his tongue on her.

He looks up, his lips glistening while smirking. “Better than your book so far?”

“Mhm,” she breathes, her voice catching as he dips lower, his tongue working in a rhythm that has her eyes rolling.

He breathes heavily as he runs his tongue over her clit, teasing her hole with the tip. It's too much for her, yet still not enough to make her body shudder, but only ache for more instead. Luckily, Lando doesn’t stop, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place as he gives himself entirely to her, the soft sounds she makes driving him on.

Patiently, he brings his fingers between her folds, opening her even more, little by little. When he pushes in the second finger, she moans his name again, which encourages him to curl them inside her, feeling her pussy tighten around him, the sound alone making him so painfully hard.

Lando’s mouth doesn’t leave her for a long while, drawing every gasp, every shudder from her as if it’s his life’s purpose. His tongue flicks, teases, and presses, his movements confident and practiced but still reverent, like he’s savoring her in a way words could never describe.

She’s close, and Lando knows it from the way her thighs tighten around his shoulders, and the way her fingers tug at his hair, grounding herself as the pleasure builds higher and higher. It makes him hum against her wetness, the muffled sound forcing a loud gasp out of her. But right when she approaches the edge, his mouth pulls away, leaving her breathless and shaking.

“Why did you—Lando!” she starts to protest, but her words are cut off when he moves up her body, kissing a heated trail along her stomach, her breasts, and up her neck.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers, the word heavy with intent. “Isn’t that what your book said?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her breath hitching as she remembers the very scene he’s playing out now. “I couldn’t care less about my book right now, Lando.”

He smirks, his hand sliding between her legs to tease her hole again, his fingers brushing over her sensitive heat with a featherlight touch. “Tell me what you want, then. I want to hear you say it.”

Her heart pounds, her mind is spinning, and the tears are so close from slipping out of her eyes. He's still quoting her stupid book, when he should be fucking her into oblivion instead. Even though now those words feel entirely different coming from his mouth, spoken in that low, rough voice that sends shivers down her spine, only makes her cry in protest when his fingers keep playing with her clit. The pressure he applies is measured enough to just keep her on the edge, but never pushing her over it.

“I want you,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Need you, please.”

“And if I ask you, pretty please, to say it again, will you?” his soft voice forces another moan to slip from her lips, his fingers dipping into her pussy, slow and teasing, feeling her walls constricting around them.

She nods, swallowing hard, “You,” she repeats, louder this time, her hips rolling against his hand. “I want you.”

Lando hums in approval, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he leans down to kiss her, his fingers moving with more intent now. “So good for me, aren't you?” he asks against her lips, and the words make her whimper, heat pooling in her belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to position himself between her thighs, his body fitting against hers like they were made for each other. Unfortunately, he takes his time, teasing her with his length, dragging himself over her wetness, his eyes never leaving hers.

“So good and needy, is that why you read those books?” he asks, mostly curious than anything. “You need something to keep you stimulated all the time? Because if that's the case, we can—”

“Please, Lando,” she begs, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, while breathing heavily.

He chuckles, satisfied, “I've got you, baby, you know I do.”

His restraint snaps at her plea, and he pushes into her hard yet measured, his gaze locked on hers as he fills her inch by inch. Her head falls back, a broken moan spilling from her lips as he bottoms out, his hips flush against hers.

“Fuck, you wrap around me so good,” he mutters, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He waits for her to adjust, his hands running soothingly over her thighs, her waist, and her breasts.

“Move,” she whimpers, her voice breathless as she drags her nails over his back.

He obeys, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has her arching beneath him, her body responding to his every thrust. He leans down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that’s as much about love as it is about hunger — a desperate desire to show her that he can be whatever she needs him to be.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathes against her mouth. “Every inch of you.”

Her body rises to meet his with every thrust, their movements fluid and desperate as the tension coils tighter and tighter. His name falls from her lips like a prayer, and he drinks it in, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck once again.

“Lan…” she cries out, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper inside her.

“Yes, baby. Wanna hear you,” he continues, his hand slipping between them to find the bundle of nerves that has her crying out again, her body trembling beneath him as his thumb circles around her clit. “Let go for me, come on.”

She shatters beneath him, her release washing over her in waves as she clings to him, her nails raking down his back. He follows moments later, her name a rough groan on his lips as he spills into her, his body shaking with the force of it.

This will always be better than anything, she realizes — better than any fantasy, any scenario, and any book. Just them, sharing each other in every possible way, then taking their time to come down. Together.

Their bodies are still tangled when Lando asks, “So? Was it better?” his voice is rough, but playful as he brushes a strand of hair from her face.

She laughs, her cheeks flushed, and pulls him down for one more kiss; of course he knew what she was thinking about.

“I think it might’ve been,” she teases.

“Oh? Might’ve?” Lando scoffs, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll just have to try again and make sure, then.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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mushroomates · 1 month ago

Text

the fellowship as roommates:

frodo: probably one of the best roommates out there. keeps to himself, tidy, does his laundry quickly and doesn’t leave it in the wash for a week. the company he keeps inviting over are weird though and you wish he’d stop obsessing over his jewelry. there’s a ring dish by the sink he’s always being funny about.

sam: he has to stop bringing plants home. the amount of dirt where there shouldn’t be is getting ridiculous. will make bread for the household though, and that makes up for it. does his dishes and all the dishes in the sink frequently and genuinely enjoys the task. took over the decoration and homemaking instantly.

merry: has a massive candle collection that would be fire safety issue. it not, however, a fire safety issue because merry never lights them. he has discontinued yankee candles and various limited edition scents. it’s his pride and joy and he doesn’t ever want to burn them because he wants to keep them forever. once pippin lit his maple-bacon soy wax triwick 1998 and merry went nuts. aside from that, pleasant company.

pippin: his parents pay for his rent because he couldn’t be bothered to pay it on time, and the tooks really, really wanted their son out of the house. do NOT go in his room. has not done laundry ever and does not plan to. keeps dirty dishes in his hamper and under his bed. keeps buying new forks thinking you won’t notice.

boromir: pays his rent a day early. handles the bills and finances and just tell you how much you owe. very respectful about your space in the fridge. does his best to be quiet past 9pm. he does, however, carve wood over the carpet and splinters have become an issue. he vacuum’s but it’s seriously becoming a problem. also keeps inviting these weirdos over who try and eat all your food.

aragorn: keeps tanning hides in the living room. is never home because he’s always at his girlfriends place. brought a dehydrator into the mix and the house always smells like meat because he’s making jerky. he will share it though, which is nice:

legolas: is mildly afraid of the bathroom. keeps clogging the drains with copious amounts of shed hair. uses your shampoo when he thinks your not looking. eats all of the good food, and small bites out of pretty much everything. tracks dirt all over the carpet and has a thing for fairy lights.

gimli: historic weaponry is NOT home decor and why the hell would you keep it over your bed. he has to have his own bathroom which he keeps very specifically (the amount of products he uses for his beard is unreasonable). generally tidy, gets weird about organizing things by color and type and would rather you let him do it.

gandalf: hardly a roommate. sometimes you wonder if he still is living with you and then he’ll show up after months of ghosting you with a random horse and a new-differently colored hat. and he will explain more about the hat than the horse. no, gandalf, we can’t keep a horse in the bathroom. our landlord will find out. please shut up about your new hat.

gollum: fresh fish keep being left on your counter on the first of each month. they’re very much someone’s goldfish that keep going missing. once, a parakeet was left in your sink. your lost socks keep reappearing on your couch. sometimes shiny rocks and coins are placed next to your phone at night. four months in there’s a scratching in your walls and this fucker pops out. he’s been living off of your scraps for nearly a year and thinks you two are best friendsies! <3 he tries to plea that he’s being paying rent. someone call the cops. (sam comes over and shoo’s him out with a broom. it’s frodos weird friend from college.)

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sturncrazy · 1 year ago

Text

CABINFEVER:

Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

(anyone else green)

warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)

authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!

summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…

word count: 2,915 W

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“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.

“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.

“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.

No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.

“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.

“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.

“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”

“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off

“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah a hundred percent”

“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.

“Deal” you smiled back at him.

The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.

“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.

“eh, not really. you?”

“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.

“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased

“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously

“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”

“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.

“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.

“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.

“what’s wrong?”

“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”

“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.

“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”

“Then share the couch with me at least”

his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.

“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?

“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.

“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off

“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.

“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.

“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss

“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.

“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.

“oh my god” you whispered.

“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears

“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.

“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“

“wait what do you mean you worried?”

“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“

“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.

“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.

he took a deep breath before continuing.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.

“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“

“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”

“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.

“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.

“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out

“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped

“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.

“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.

“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.

“Matt—“ you moaned out

“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.

“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.

“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.

“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.

“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds

“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.

“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted

“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”

“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.

“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.

“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.

“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.

“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.

“wait matt”

“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry

“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”

“Oh” he said smiling with relief

“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”

“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly

“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss

“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.

“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly

“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.

“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.

“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”

“oh god don’t stop”

“you like that, sweet girl”

“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”

“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”

“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.

“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.

“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.

“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out

“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high

“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release

“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”

“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered

“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”

“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”

“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”

“i wanna feel you cum”

“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.

“How was that?”

“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.

“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.

“I’d say so too.” he said.

“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered

“really?”

“mhm”

“me too” he paused for a moment

“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”

you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.

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why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.

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