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#it would be great if we had a table that was the size of the king size quilt
wowbright · 4 months
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Spent the day sitting on the floor (usually cross-legged) in order to hand-baste a king size quilt and discovered that I am definitely getting too old to sit on the floor all day.
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sunjoys · 7 months
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i hate customers i need to gnaw their arms off pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls
#hen party from hell today at work#my coworker who was taking their order did fuck up a few times im ngl (like she kept going back to check stuff etc altho she did get#it all correct once it was put through to the kitchen)#but like i KNOW our service overall wasnt that bad bc a table that arrived at the same time + similar size tipped us 20 eur and said#“everything was great”#but like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the hen party !!! ohhhh my god .#17 people all trying to pay separately . i need my workplace to set up a policy of no splitting bill more than idk 5 times#anyway when there was about 5 ppl left my coworker was like “would you mind splitting the bill between you? it would make things simpler”#they said sure and paid#AND THEN THE BRIDE (?) CAME UP TO US AFTER AND OCMPLAINED#amongst other things she was like “halfway through paying you told us we couldnt pay separately and at the start u said we could”#GIRL MY COWORKER ASKED IF YOU COULD SPLIT IT BETWEEN YOUS. YOU COULDVE JUST SAID “NO WE WANT TO PAY SEPARATELY”#LIKE YOU HAVE THE POWER HERE#i just .. .. we told the manager after she complained and he was chill abt it lol#but then she SENT AN EMAIL. WITH PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS OF US#“the one w nose piercings the blonde the redhead etc” like jesus crhist. if i gave you a gun you would def shoot me without hesitation#anyway . im sooo. i just had a coffee so now im like intensified. and i have to do hashtag homework mmm yummy#long post#<- in case the long tags r a pain. i probably couldve made a separate post but i couldnt be bothered to be quite honest. anywya. <3#live laugh love guys <33
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We had one of Steff's comedian friends staying with us on the weekend, lovely lad called Sam from Singapore. He had never been to Wales before, and he requested that we take him to a Welsh restaurant so he could try Welsh food
That's surprisingly difficult, actually. Like a lot of Welsh culture, our culinary traditions have not exactly been applauded over the years, so you don't really see them. But a lucky Google search revealed a brand new one has just opened in SA1 called the Welsh House, so great! Away we went.
Fuck me, they went all in.
It wasn't just the menu (though fuck me, what a menu - one of their 'for the table to share' options was little mini leek and cheddar Welsh cakes with salted butter and they were paralysingly good). It wasn't just that every alcohol was Welsh, even including the wine (surprisingly good btw, called 'Naturiol'.)
The table centerpieces were daffodils. All signs for the toilets were Welsh only. The walls had photos of Wales, modern and historical; the windows had the fleur de lis; the specials board (pork belly in Welsh cider and damson sauce with honey and wild garlic glazed carrots) had dragons on. I realise this is probably normal for country-themed restaurants, but I've never been to one for Wales before.
But the best bit, see, was the music
I clocked, when we walked in, that they were playing If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next by the Manic Street Preachers (you always clock the Manics). Ah, I thought. A Welsh song! In a Welsh restaurant! Ho ho ho.
As they seated us, it became What's New Pussycat. Ah! I thought. Another Welsh song! Fu fu fu.
Then they played Monster by the Automatic and I was like my god are they only playing Welsh music?? That's so cool! What an eclectic mix that's going to be. We should suggest to them they should look into Welsh language music too, really mix it up.
And then they played Anrheoli by Yws Gwynedd and lads, Steff and I lost our shit. We lost our fucking shit. Sam's sitting there, utterly bewildered. The staff are nervously edging away from us. We don't care. It's the first time I have ever heard a Welsh language song played outside of a Welsh language setting. We're so excited.
"They're playing Welsh music!!!" says Steff. "Holy shit!!!"
"Imagine if they played Sebona Fi!" I say, humorously.
"Nah," says Steff. "You can't in a restaurant. There'd be a riot, it's faerie music."
"...what?" says Sam
We explain the cultural phenomenon that is Sebona Fi. The song changes: Primadonna Girl, by Marina and the Diamonds.
"She's Welsh??" says Sam.
"She's from Abergavenny!" we beam.
"I don't know what that means," nods Sam, who is from Singapore.
Next: The Bartender and the Thief, by the Stereophonics. We're in high spirits. The extraordinarily Welsh wine arrives, as does the rarebit on sourdough starter. Sam, a gay man, delightedly orders the faggots and peas.
They play Ben Rhys by Gwilym Bowen Rhys, and we lose our shit again. Sam is now used to this, because comedians are adaptable. "They even have daffodils!" I say, misty eyed. "Is that relevant?" Sam asks, fascinated.
They play Hiraeth, by PLU. Hard to explain that one. Very hard to explain the effect it has when it's played in a restaurant, but Sam looks around the suddenly muted room and whispers "Are we in church?"
"It's about Hiraeth," whispers Steff. "So kind of."
Next: the Masses Against the Classes, by the Manics. Utter tonal whiplash. This playlist is not remotely restaurant appropriate. It's perfect.
"You'd think they'd pick like... a genre," Sam says dreamily. "We just went from church to the barricades."
The faggots arrive. "I forgot it would be a western sized portion," Sam says morosely, of what to me is a normal sized plate of food. He tries one, and brightens.
They play Sebona Fi.
The place erupts.
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bisquid · 9 months
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Wait wait you can't just drop that off and not elaborate. What do you mean is there a mafia presence in Wales?? Please spill, what things did you notice??
Okay so bearing in mind that I have ADHD and Chronic Terrible Observational Skills:
I am in Cardiff
For a concert I am attending solo
Doors open at 5
4:15 ish I go 'hmm I should eat something'
Cardiff is - unsurprisingly, being tiny and yet home to FOUR concert venues - Very Busy
Find McDonald's
McDonald's is very full. I recall my last concert related McDick's experience, and promptly bounce
Directly across the street
Is an Italian restaurant
It looks closed but fuckit maybe I can beg for like. Bread or some shit
Go over
Am immediately pounced upon by the hitherto unnoticed chain-smoking woman hanging out by the door mostly hidden by a potted ficus(?)
"I was wondering if you were open and if-" "yes yes we are open what would you like?" (strongish Italian accent)
Inside restaurant is Deserted
Explain that I'm sort of in a rush, am assured it's fine
Order chicken milanese which is generally a pasta dish with a breaded chicken component
Am led to seat nearish the front and promptly provided with a pint of coke in a glass tankard
Am then provided with a front row seat to an absolutely incomprehensible series of people entering and exiting (and in one case walking directly into) the door to what I can only presume is the kitchen
Starting with the guy who had been sitting at a table chain-smoking over a pile of papers
I counted at least three people exiting at least twice without actually entering in between
Am finally brought food
It is a breaded, butterflied chicken breast approximately the size of my face and a small pile of pasta approximately the size of my fist
It is all delicious
Chain-smoking papers man reappears, now wearing a chef's apron labcoat thing
Go up to pay, chain-smoking ficus lady is now having a very loud argument in a language I did not recognise but was not Italian Welsh English French russian Gaelic or Spanish
She sees me, says, and I quote 'ah little girl lost, one moment' and promptly hangs up
I am 27 and only nominally female
I am not remotely lost
She charges me for the pint of coke but not the food
I try to point out that she hasn't charged me for the food
'do you want to pay for the food?'
'.... Not if I don't have to?'
'good'
I leave. The door is now full of half a dozen very tall very Italian men and one absolutely adorable cocker spaniel
I ask if I can pet the dog (I have my priorities straight okay)
I am allowed to pet the dog. The dog and I are now best friends
The dog lead holder asks me in extremely accented but impeccably correct English if I had enjoyed the food
'yeah it was great!'
Everyone laughs a bit
I smile and pet the dog and realise I'm now late for the concert and hurry off
I see a post on Tumblr about mob fronts and several connections are made in my brain all at once
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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months
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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
---
I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
---
If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
---
As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
---
So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
---
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wreckofawriter · 8 months
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Only If You Catch Me
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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now
word count: 4.4k
warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!
a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it
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Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.
“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 
You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 
The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 
“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 
“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 
Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”
“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.
“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.
“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”
Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.
Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”
You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”
Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 
“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 
“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 
Alicia snickered beside you.
Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.
“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.
Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.
You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 
“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.
“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 
You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 
“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.
“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 
Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 
“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 
Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 
“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”
“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 
“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 
Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 
Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.
“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 
You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 
Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 
Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 
You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”
“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”
You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”
Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.
You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 
You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 
Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”
He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”
You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 
“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 
George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.
“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 
“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”
Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 
Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 
Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 
“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”
“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 
“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 
“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 
Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 
Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.
“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 
Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 
“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 
Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 
“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.
The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.
That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 
By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 
“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 
He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 
You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 
“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 
You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 
“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 
You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 
As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 
“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  
George chuckled.
Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.
“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 
The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 
Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 
The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 
Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.
Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 
He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.
Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 
He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 
Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 
“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 
Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 
“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 
“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 
The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 
Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 
“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 
As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.
“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 
Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”
But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 
You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  
George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”
The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 
You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 
“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 
The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.
“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 
Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 
By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 
In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 
Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 
Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 
He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 
Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 
You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”
You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 
Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 
“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 
“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 
You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 
  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 
How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?
The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 
As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 
As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”
“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 
“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 
His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 
“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 
And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 
Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 
You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.
George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 
You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 
Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 
A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.
You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.
You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 
He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.
You furrowed your brow, “What?” 
“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 
It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 
He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 
“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 
“For what?” 
“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 
You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 
He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 
You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 
“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 
“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 
You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.
One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.
“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 
Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 
“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 
You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.
You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 
He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 
This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.
You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 
Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 
 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.
“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 
You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 
“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.
“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
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pretty-toru · 8 months
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˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝����𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧
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Satoru started leaving things at your place at two months. You never seem to mind it because you did get him his own pair of house slippers (which was too small because you didn't want to tolerate the possible bad jokes had you asked his shoe size) when he first visited, followed by a toothbrush when he began to spend the night more frequently.
His clothes were the first to find their way into your hamper, where you'd wash along with your laundry, fold neatly and tuck away into a drawer you emptied out for him. When you'd both go grocery shopping together to make dinner一he always covers the cost of course, because that means the bunch of snacks and sweets would always be available to him in your pantry for movie nights. And when appliances in your kitchen break like your kettle, he lends you one from his apartment but it's yours to keep. You even tease him that he smells like you now because he borrows your products when you both shower together, but what's not to love about your scent when it's so familiar and comforting to him.
Your heart nearly skips a beat when Satoru suddenly calls your place his home too. "I can't wait to come home to you," he confesses over the phone since he’s been sent on a week long mission. When you look around your space you're reminded of the little remnants that he leaves behind. The silly Gojo doodle wishing you a great day and to not miss him too much (but please actually do) stuck on your fridge by a magnet, his extra pair of sunglasses next to your keys that you keep on the table by the front door, and when you glance down you hadn’t realized you were wearing his shirt as your way of feeling close to him when he’s away.
So when the words, "Why don't we move in together?" finally reaches him when you're both sweetly cuddling in bed after he returns to you safe and sound, you can see the excitement behind his eyes as they burn brightly. He’s been waiting and waiting despite all his not so subtle hints for you to consider the idea since he’s ready to take that step only when you are.
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keresnotceres · 10 months
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Good, Good, Great
Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!
[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.
PART TWO
3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33
You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.
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How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.
He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.
He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.
You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.
“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”
He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.
The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.
The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.
There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.
His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.
It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.
Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.
“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.
Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”
“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.
“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.
Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.
And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.
He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.
The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.
The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.
The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.
“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”
The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”
The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.
Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”
Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.
“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.
“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.
“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”
Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”
Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”
The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.
You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.
He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.
He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.
You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.
Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.
Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.
You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.
“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”
It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.
When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.
Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”
You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.
Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.
You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have a Coke.”
“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”
Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”
You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”
You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”
“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.
Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.
He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.
He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.
At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.
When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.
“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”
Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.
Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.
It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.
You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.
You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.
By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”
Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.
You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.
“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.
“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”
Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.
“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.
“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”
You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.
“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’
The look on your face screams ‘yes.’
Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”
Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.
“Don’t flirt with him.”
Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”
“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.
You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.
“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”
And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.
“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.
“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”
All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.
Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.
All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.
You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.
“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.
He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.
“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.
Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”
You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”
You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.
You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.
“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”
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lightseoul · 1 year
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you and me? really?
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synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)
cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff
word count. 1.7k words
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Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.
“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.
“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”
You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”
Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”
“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”
She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”
You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.
You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”
“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.
“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.
“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”
You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.
“Right on.”
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Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.
And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.
You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.
He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.
Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)
“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”
Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”
Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.
His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?
Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.
“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”
“Ouch..?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”
You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”
What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.
“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.
You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.
“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”
You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.
“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.
You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..
“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.
Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”
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“Has he texted you yet?!”
You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”
“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”
“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”
“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”
You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.
You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”
“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”
“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”
“Thanks,” you deadpanned.
“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”
“Sure, go on.”
You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”
“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”
“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”
“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”
You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.
“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”
You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”
Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“No, wait!”
You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”
“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”
You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.
Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.
But this? This is an emergency.
You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.
Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.
Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.
You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.
Hey, it's Bakugou.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 19 days
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {4}
Summary: The plan is set and it's time to get things into motion. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents WC: 2k
One || Two || Three || Four || Five
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Two Weeks Later
You were barely through the ornate arch that separated the foyer entrance from the dining room when a fist of razor sharp fingernails cut into your upper arm. 
“Hi,” you greeted your mother as she dragged you into the room lit by a gilded chandelier. You were late to the regular Friday night dinner but time had slipped away from you at Arthur’s apartment. Charles had picked you up after flying in from Maranello and taken you to Monaco to finalise the plan after officially signing a contract his lawyers had drafted. The risk of exposure was too great to be an employee through his Ferrari team so everything had gone through his personal solicitor.
“Don’t ‘hi’ me you ungrateful little-sweetheart, you didn’t tell me you would be bringing a guest.” Your mother’s eyes widened as Charles stepped in behind you, his palm warming the small of your back. “I’ll have one of the maids set a place for you, Charles.”
You had coached Charles through the cutlery he could be expected to use, even in an informal setting such as a family dinner. The variations of forks would no doubt be a test that your mother would use to judge the latest guest. In return, he had posted cleverly taken photos throughout the week to ‘soft launch’ the relationship. 
“Madame Florence told me that you missed your piano session this afternoon,” your mother said sweetly, but her nails dug deeper into your skin. 
“That was today? It must have slipped my mind, you know what a ditz I can be.” Your aloof tone only set to anger her more but you knew she wouldn’t lash out while Charles was around. She always had to maintain the perfect image, like how her bruising grip was hidden by the sleeve of your shirt. 
“You play piano?” Charles asked as your mother turned on her stiletto heel and took her place beside your father at the head of the table. 
“Not by choice,” you muttered.
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them,” you mother quoted Shakespear like the actress she had failed to become. “She might not be the first, but my daughter could achieve greatness if she applied herself and actually attended the lessons.”
“That must be the nicest thing you have ever said,” you commented as you took a seat opposite them. Charles pushed your chair in before taking his beside you where Alicia had placed a setting for him, an appetiser already waiting. “Charles is staying over so perhaps I can have some greatness thrust upon me tonight.”
Your mother choked on her negroni and the oyster fork slipped from your father’s hand, clattering to the fine china plate. Even Charles looked a little shocked but he quickly recovered.
“If that is alright with you of course, not the uh thrusting, but staying the night,” he said after clearing his throat. 
“This isn’t a hotel,” your father stated. “Or a brothel.”
“Not sure about that since everything around here is completely fucked,” you whispered to Charles and caught the hint of a smile before turning to the head of the table. “Father, Charles is my boyfriend - get used to having him around.”
Charles’ fingers laced with yours and he kissed your knuckles. “At least until you move in with me.”
“Let’s just take a step back,” your father chuckled. “Boyfriend?”
You nodded and watched the amusement fade. 
“You are dating the boy you spent weeks, months, crying over?” your mother asked with a laugh. 
“Really?” Charles asked behind the napkin that he patted along his clammy upper lip. 
“I was an emotional teenager, but I grew out of it - don’t take it personally,” you lied. 
The dishes were swiftly taken away and replaced with the main course and Charles frowned when he saw the child size portion on your plate. “We can share,” he offered, thinking that his sudden arrival for dinner meant the kitchen was short of food. 
“She’s on a diet,” your mother tutted. “It’s Social Season and we can’t have all those lovely gowns ill fitting.”
You stabbed the salad fork into a sweet cherry tomato and watched the seeds and juice splatter over the lettuce, morbidly imagining it was a certain someone across the table. You didn’t bother to even finish the plate of rabbit food before you excused yourself. 
“You can stay,” you said to Charles when he rose to follow. “They’ll let you have dessert.”
“I’d rather your company,” he replied before turning to your parents. “Enjoy your evening.”
You felt his presence following closely up the stairs and you knew he was biting his tongue from the waves of discontent that seemed to physically roll off him. The second floor of the mansion was quiet as you walked the hallway and turned a corner to see Alicia step out of the staff stairwell. 
“Rough night,” she said with a sad smile and held out the tray of food Chef Alain had prepared. This time there were two portions of dessert. Her eyes darted to Charles and she started to speak before closing her lips. Finally, she worked up the courage and asked, “Are you alright? I can call Franco.”
You smiled genuinely at her concern and placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that Charles was a welcome guest. “I’m fine, thank you, no need for the big guy. But, could you please let him know we’ll be heading out the south entrance tonight?”
Alicia nodded and relaxed slightly. Unable to fight the habit, she bobbed sedately and ducked back into the shadows of the stairwell. Your parents may have acted like the house staff didn’t exist but they were always around, and they always saw what the outside world didn’t. You would have lost your sanity long ago if it weren’t for their help, even if it meant risking their jobs. 
Charles took the tray from your hand and you opened the plain white door that looked just like the others down the hall. He remained silent as he cast his eyes around the room that dripped lux from every surface. The plush carpet absorbed his footsteps as he stepped into the sitting room and the sheer curtains wavered in the breeze coming in from the sea beyond the wide balcony. In one adjoining room a large canopy bed spread across a wall decorated with blue and silver hand painted damask designs while an equally large desk sat in another connected by open glass doors.
“Hmm,” he hummed as he placed the tray on the coffee table and continued his quiet judgement walking around the rooms. 
“Still not up to your standards?” you asked as you followed him to the bed that he sat comfortably on, toeing his shoes off before kicking them up and reclining back among the pillows.
Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “I think I like the dump better, at least it has some personality. You don’t even have any photos on the wall.”
You thought about correcting him again for calling your sanctuary a dump, but gave up on the idea. Instead, you reached under your bed for the duffle bag you kept there and disappeared inside your wardrobe to pack. “You’re in luck, that’s exactly where we are crashing tonight.”
You dumped the bag on the floor in your spacious closet and dropped to your knees before rummaging around the bottom shelves. You pushed aside a box of Prada pumps you hadn’t yet worn and found what you were looking for as a shadow dimmed your light.
“Why aren’t we staying here?”
You looked up to find Charles towering over you and sat back on your heels, pulling the gym gear onto your lap. “It’s Friday, I have a fight.”
You stuffed a sports bra and shorts into the duffle bag before adding a pair of sneakers, knuckle tape and Vaseline in too. Lastly, you grabbed the hoodie Charles had given you and tossed it on top. 
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” Charles said, blocking your exit from the small room. 
“I’ve never been forced, the whole point is that it is my choice. Now move aside.”
He ignored your request and stayed planted in the doorway as you stepped closer. “Your mother said you cried over me. Why?”
Your back stiffened and you swallowed at the memory. “You’ve seen my family, I had plenty to cry about. Maybe I blamed you one day when she caught me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe what you want, I don’t care.” You tried to duck under his arm and escape but he was quicker and dropped it, catching you around the waist and tugging you against his body. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek and just how strong his body was as his arms tightened their hold. 
“I think you’re lying and I want to know why.”
“What good would the truth do?” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes and wondered when he had grown so tall. “Do you enjoy feeling guilty?”
Charles’ eyes bored into yours and you noticed the little crinkles around them as his frustration grew. “Just tell me, please.”
Your resolve broke and you shoved against Charles until you had the space to breathe. “I never got to say goodbye to him.”
His brows pinched together in confusion. “Who, Jules?”
“God, I hated you,” you laughed humorlessly as you sat on the edge of your bed and looked at your hands fidgeting on your lap. “Things were great before you came around, not here, obviously, but with the Bianchi’s. We would go karting on the weekends, Mélanie would let me help her bake. I didn’t know what a home felt like before then.”
The bed dipped as Charles sat beside you and took your hand. It was one thing to act as if there was a relationship but your heart stammered a little when he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m sorry.”
“I know now that my father already had plans for Jules before you met him, but that was when I noticed things started to change. Whenever I went to their house he would disappear, then there were no more karting days. Whenever I asked, he was busy karting with you. I thought you stole him from me.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“But it made you cry.”
Your shoulders jumped with a clipped laugh and you shook your head. “You know, I never went back to the hospital after that day.”
“What day?” Realisation dawned on his face and his hand slipped out of yours as he covered his mouth. 
“I never got to finish the story. I never got to say goodbye,” you whispered as your voice broke and fresh tears burned your eyes. “And that is why I need to fight. There is so much anger inside me that I don’t know what else to do. It’s just sitting here,” you beat your fist against your hallow chest, “burning a fucking hole through me.”
A sob cracked the room as you admitted aloud for the first time something even Arthur didn’t know. You let Charles see just how close to the edge you really were and how little it would take for you to break. Strong arms enveloped you and pulled you onto his lap as you fell apart. You tried desperately to shut yourself off from the emotions but you had let too many through that it was impossible. 
“I hate you,” you rasped as you hit his chest. The punches were weak without the space to swing your body behind it, but somehow it served to hurt him more. He knew you were stronger and seeing your feeble attempts crumble cleaved his chest apart more than your words. “I hate you, Charles. I fucking hate you.”
“I know,” he whispered as he held you closer and took each hit he more than deserved. “I hate me too.”
Part Five.
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rwrbmovie · 4 months
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BTS of #RWRBMovie: interview room
Neil Floyd via Big Gay Energy:
That's the weird part, no one got that in all of the Twitter that I've seen for the entire film about every detail in the film. I guess because we just kinda made it up, it wasn't part of the book, but we decided the interview room could be an homage to Richard Curtis who wrote all the romantic comedies, you know for the past 20 years. That was our nod to 'Notting Hill', because in 'Notting Hill', Julia Roberts was the American and Hugh Grant was the Brit, and they sort of do the whole interview thing with Horse & Hound. So we actually rented the exact same furniture. The sofa is different, because the one that Julia Roberts was on was a bit smaller, and for the two boys' size, we couldn't fit them on that sofa, so we had a different sofa. But the coffee table, everything – the flower arrangements, they were done by our florist who knew the original florist who did 'Notting Hill'. So we did this whole thing, so that was kinda our fun, cheeky little set because we wanted to see "oh, would anyone get it?" But it was our homage to you know, classic romcoms from our days and now we're doing a gay version so it was great.
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minarinnn · 5 months
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so in love with your best friend yuji hcs, may i request a continuation of that? and also maybe a writing of their first time ahhh and what you think he’d be like when he’s jealous. i know this is a lot but just choose what you feel like writing!! looking forward to your future stuff <3
hiii, tysm!! i tried to write everything, sorry if i missed smth. i lowk wanted to write more ab this too but you gave me a great excuse to do it + some ideas so, thank youuu<3
content/trigger warning: college au, characters are aged up!!, f!reader, p in v, creampie, jealousy, virgin sex, fingering (f! receiving), slighttt size kink
word count: 2.7k
“FIRST DATE”
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nobara is sick and tired of hearing yuuji talk about you and not act on his feelings. especially when she knows that you actually have feelings for the pink haired male. but she promised she wouldn't tell yuuji about your feelings and she also promised yuuji that she wouldn't tell you about his
it didn't bother her much until yuuji started talking about how this guy in your physics class has been awfully chummy with you
"he even asked if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with him, can you believe that?" yuuji grumbled. he had been talking about this for at least 15 minutes now. nobara rolled her eyes for 7th time that day. "itadori, she's a beautiful girl, she's gonna have people asking her out, especially if she doesn't have a boyfriend" she pointed out, making yuuji pout and grumble under his breath
nobara sighed, leaning her cheek against her palm "you could just confess and the whole problem would be over". yuuji's eyes widened, a slight hue of pink adorning his face. "i can't do that... she's.. she'll just reject me" he sighed
nobara's patience was starting to run thin. she'd been there for yuuji through countless conversations about his feelings for you, always playing devil's advocate and trying to nudge him in the right direction. but after months of hearing him complain and fret over the situation, she couldn't take it anymore
"itadori, i know you're scared, but believe me, it's better to just rip off the band-aid and confess your feelings" she said firmly, tired of being in the middle of the both of you "and if she doesn't reciprocate your feelings, then at least you'll have closure and you can move on"
yuuji looked at her warily. deep down he knew she was right, but the thought of confessing his feelings and being rejected was still nerve-wracking for him. he took a deep breath and nodded. "you're right, kugisaki. i need to do this" he said, determination written all across his face as he stood up, walking away from the table
yuuji stopped in his tracks, turning around with a nervous chuckle "i mean, i don't have to tell her right no-" "go itadori!" nobara yelled, making the boy flinch and continue walking
yuuji walked down the hallway, his mind racing with thoughts of how he was going to confess his feelings to you. he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, but he pushed those feelings aside and focused on his task at hand
he saw you walking around the hallway, shooting you a quick nervous smile and walking towards you. you smiled, continuing to walk to him and meeting him halfway.
"hey yuu" you smiled. oh how he loved that smile and that nickname you called him that always made his heart flutter. "heyy... can we..." he paused, searching for the right words "can we go out sometime... as more than just friends?"
you furrow your brows and tilt your head, your adorable smile still plastered on your face "more than just friends?" you question. yuuji took a deep breath and took a step forward, his heart hammering in his chest. he couldn't believe he was about to do this, but he knew he had to.
his eyes were locked on yours as he summoned all his courage. his nerves were still getting the better of him, but he forced himself to keep going.
"there's something i've been meaning to tell you for a long time now," yuuji began, his voice hoarse. "i... i.." the words got caught in his throat, and he found himself struggling to continue. he took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves
"i'm in love with you" he said finally, his eyes never leaving yours "i think about you all the time, and every time i see you, it feels like my heart is about to explode. i know this might come as a shock to you, but i had to tell you how i feel. i just couldn't keep it to myself anymore"
as yuuji spoke, he felt as though a weight was lifting off his shoulders. he had said what he needed to say, and now it was up to you to decide how to respond. yuuji held his breath, waiting for your reaction
you smiled at yuuji, feeling a warm tingle in your chest. "then it's a date" you said, your voice filled with excitement. yuuji was dumbfounded for a second. blinking a few times to process it. that was not the words he was expecting
you put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze "you can text me the details later, yeah?". yuuji nodded, not being able to formulate words just yet. "i'll see you around" you say, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. yuuji could feel his brain short circuit and as you walked away all he could think about is how he was gonna tell kugisaki all bout what just happened
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your date with yuuji was going great. you and yuuji had spent the afternoon exploring a beautiful art museum together. yuuji spent a lovely time admiring you. he claims you were the real art
after a few hours of admiring the artwork, yuuji suggested grabbing a bite to eat to prolong the date a little longer. you were more than happy to oblige, especially since the thought of spending more time with him made your heart flutter
as you and yuuji walked, he couldn't help but smile. he was having such a great time with you, it felt like nothing in the world could bring him down
as the two of you walked to the nearby restaurant, yuuji reached out to open the door for you, earning a warm smile in return. the restaurant was bustling with activity, but the noise faded into the background as you and yuuji sat down at your table
as you sat across from yuuji, he couldn't help but stare at you. the soft, warm light of the candles illuminated your face, making your eyes sparkle and your lips shine. yuuji felt like he was in a dream, and he couldn't believe that he finally had the chance to spend some time alone with you romantically
absolutely nothing could ruin this moment
but he spoke to soon. standing at your table was the guy that had been chummy with her in her physics class. why the hell was he the waiter??. yuuji's smile instantly dropped and he couldn't help but let out a sigh
"oh- what a wonderful surprise!" he spoke to you, completely ignoring yuuji "you look absolutely stunning". you chuckle nervously at his comment, immediately picking up on the tension that surrounded the table
the tension in the air was palpable as yuuji watched that guy continue to flirt with you. yuuji felt a pang of jealousy and couldn't help but scowl at the thought of that guy trying to steal you away from him (even though you weren't his). he tried to keep his cool, but it was clear that the waiter's presence was bothering him greatly
"would you like todays special?" the guy asked you. you hum, turning to look at yuuji before speaking "what're you gonna order, yuu?". his head perked up at the use of his nickname, making his heart flutter a bit. "uhh.. yeah i do" he spoke, glancing at the waiter who had finally acknowledged his presence "i just didn't want to interrupt his futile attempt at flirting"
you couldn't help but choke out a chuckle as the waiter visibly glared at yuuji. "u-um.. that's our orders then" you tried not to laugh. the guy left with an eye roll and yuuji followed his movements with a glare
after he's farther away you let out a low laugh and yuuji looks at you a bit confused. "were you jealous just now, yuu?" you say, your laughter dying out but a smile still lingering on your face. yuuji's face flushed in embarrassment. "w-what?? no" he lied, averting his gaze from you
"it's okay, yuu. i'm not surprised that you were jealous" you said with a chuckle "i mean, who wouldn't be? that guy was definitely flirting with me"
yuuji felt a sense of relief wash over him. he didn't want to come across as possessive or insecure, but it was hard not to feel a tinge of jealousy in that moment. "how humble" yuuji scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully at you
the rest of the day went amazing and the guy had actually switched tables after yuuji humiliated him in front you. you were both scared of ruining the friendship but this date proved that you could both have something more and that it could actually last
yuuji walked you to your dorm. the walk filled with laughs and conversations about your times in high school were yuuji did stupid stuff all the time and you were there to scold him
standing at your front door, you looked for your keys in your purse. the keys jingled in your hand as you pulled them out. "i had a great time tonight" yuuji spoke from behind you, a warm and tender smile adorning his face. you turn to him a shy smile gracing your lips. "yuu... do you wanna... y'know.. spend the night?" you muttered, batting your eyelashes at him
his eyes widened and his brain ran wild with lewd thought. "s-sure" he spoke out, almost immediately. you chuckle lightly before opening the door and heading inside
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you're straddled on top of yuuji, sloppily making out. his hands on your hips, rolling them forward, making you grind on his aching cock
you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. you knew yuuji was big but you didn't know how big. he was massive, and he was definitely going to break you
yuuji broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both as you pant heavily. "you sure you wanna do this?" he asked, his breath heavy and his eyes clouded with lust. you nod eagerly, beginning to take your shirt off and revealing your lacy bra
yuuji can't help but ogle your breast. "shit" he muttered, feeling his dick throb at the sight of you. your hands go to your back as you un-clip your bra, revealing your magnificent tits. his hands hesitantly travel up your body, cupping a boob in his hand and squeezing it
he let out a shaky breath as you tugged on his shirt, immediately taking it off and your hands landing on his ripped chest. he couldn't help but whine at your touch. boy, was he sensitive. you stood up, pulling your bottoms down as he did the same
you couldn’t help but stare at his hard, veiny dick, it was so pretty but you just knew that you were gonna be wrecked after this. your hands subconsciously wrap around your stomach, trying to cover your exposed body in embarrassment. "do you umm... do you have any idea how to do this?" you asked, embarrassment noticiable in your tone
yuuji tried his hardest not to drool at the sight of your naked body, keeping his eyes respectfully on yours. "i've seen a few videos" he shrugged nervously. you sat on the bed next to him, feeling his gaze on your chest. "can i.. take the lead?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes desperately roaming yours for approval
you gave a small nod and he wasted no time getting on top of you, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to spread your legs apart. his calloused hands roamed your soft skin and every touch sent a shiver through your spine. “if you want me to stop just say the word and i will. no questions asked, kay?”
you nod again, not being able to formulate words in your current moment. he pushed a single finger in, your wetness smearing down to his knuckles. you squirm a bit. yuuji’s fingers were definitely way more longer and thicker than your own
yuuji pushed his finger in and out of you slowly, your walls gripping on his thick finger as he stared in awe. all he wanted to do was slam his dick into you and have you tighten around him
“think you can take another one?” he whispered, a second finger grazing your entrance. “mhm” you hummed, your hands on his broad shoulders, your nails digging small crescent moons on them
yuuji pushed a second finger in and you can feel your pussy being stretched, a stingy feeling soon turning into pleasure. his pace fastened and moans began to escape your plump lips. “f-fuck ahh” your moans were just heavenly for yuuji and he couldn’t get enough of them. his fingers began to do scissor motions inside your walls, stretching them even more
part of him enjoyed watching you squirm like that because of his fingers. it just made him imagine how you’d be when he sunk his cock into you. he pulled his finger out, aligning himself at your entrance. he hissed at the contact. his virgin cock ached to be sunked into your pretty virgin hole that he so desperately wanted to destroy (with love)
he took your hand in his, slowly sinking himself into your gummy walls. your arousal fresh around his dick, he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. he was so gonna brag to megumi about this later
you can feel yourself getting full, taking a quick glance where you and him were connected to see that his dick was only half way in. “shitt” you groan, your back arching slightly. “w-what’s wrong?” yuuji asks frantically, worry and concern very visible on his tone and face. “you’re just- aghh.. really big yuu” you explained
yuuji felt his ego soar into the sky at your words. he let out a breathy laugh, suddenly feeling bold, his nervousness seeming to slip away. “you can take it tho, right pretty?” he cooed. you clenched down on him, earning a whine as he continued to sink himself in deeper
“you’re- fuck, s’tight” he groaned, his thumb rubbing circles on your hips. he waited a few minutes for you to adjust, the pain turning into pleasure as you gave him the green light to move
he rocked his hips slowly. he was soft and gentle with his movements at first, being careful not to accidentally break you. that lasted about 40 seconds. your pussy began to tighten around him, making him want to hit deeper and harder into you
part of him wanted to fuck you silly while the other part of him wanted to go slow and kiss all over your body. so he combined them. he thrusted fast and deep into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. his lips worked their way through your body, kissing you all over
one hand intertwined with yours and the other holding your hips in place. you could feel yourself seeing stars. yuuji was filling you up so good. stretching and molding your pretty little hole to the shape of his big, veiny cock
his tip hitting your sweet spot every time without fail. your tits bouncing up and down to the rhythm of his thrust. you could feel a knot forming in your stomach as yuuji’s thrust became sloppier
“‘m s’close” you moan out. you can feel him groan against your neck that was probably littered with hickeys. “me too” he panted, his thrust faltering “can i cum inside?”. you clenched harder around him, nodding eagerly “yes- fuckk, yesss”
you felt the knot in your stomach break, your back arching as you scratched yuujis shoulder. with a few more thrust, yuuji dumped his seed into your velvety walls, successfully painting them white. he pulled out, watching your mixed cum trail out of your abused hole
it was such a lewd sight but oh boy did he enjoy it. this was surely a first date the two of you would remember for the rest of your lives
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© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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887 notes · View notes
rosemoncherie · 2 months
Text
birthday kisses: t.wolff
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pairing/au: toto wolff x black socialite!reader smau
summary: toto spoils you on your special day.
warning: nsfw 18+, mdni, age gap (reader is late 20s), fluff, pet names, toto is giving sd vibes but he’s your bf, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, praise kink, minor size kink, breeding kink, soft!dom toto tendencies.
note: this is extremely self-indulgent and the sexual content is extremely explicit and long so please read those warning before continuing. yesterday was my birthday and I couldn’t stop thinking about him lol. enjoy my loves!
tags: @queenshikongo3 @bluesole16 @christinabae @aisharmi @hoziersfairy @queenzee27 @omgsuperstarg @lewisroscoelove @itsyagirlmeee @joviallljas @serpenttines-library @hrlzy @sugardontbesweet @tallrock35 @tian-monique @f1-hoff @peyiswriting @thewolffswife @mochiminimoni @bekindbecoolbeyou @xoscar03 @kenbechillin @rehenys @hellomadamebutterfly
w.c: 3.6K
[ INSTAGRAM ]
thelovelyyn
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liked by uchjn, wolfiecindy and 340 k others
thelovelyyn Despite his busy schedule, loulou was able to make time for me and fly us out to our special place for my birthday 💋.
view limited comments
uchjn happy birthday wifey! tell loulou that he better give you the world or else I’m on him!
⤷thelovelyyn uchjn 😂 he read your comment and he said he won’t let you down!
⤷uchjn thelovelyyn that’s what I love to hear 🤣
userfan21 happiest of birthdays beautiful!
userfan35 please! are you finally going to tell us who loulou is? 😭
⤷thelovelyyn userfan35 maybe … 👀
⤷ userfan11 thelovelyyn i will be totally normal about this
lewishamilton happy birthday little one 💜
⤷thelovelyyn lewishamilton thank you Lewis 😊
userfan44 is Lewis loulou???? Like the nickname would make so much sense!
⤷userfan66 userfan44 I highly doubt it’s him. Lewis has been hanging out with Jamilah Riley a lot, like a suspicious amount.
⤷ userfan44 usefan66 oh purr! I still want to know who it is because she’s been soft launching loulou for ages now. I’ve had enough 😭
You giggled as you read through the comments on your post as laid beside him. After Toto had woken you up with flowers and an early breakfast, he dragged you back to bed and played with your body until you had climaxed as least twice.
“What are you laughing at?” He asked as he turned his face into your neck and placed soft kisses on your flushed skin.
“My followers are trying to guess who you are.” You replied as you placed your phone onto the side table and shifted your body so that your legs were entangled. Toto’s disheveled hair was softly brushing against his forehead as he looked down at you with a lazy smile on his face.
Your body was in his arms as you laid beneath him, skin to skin.
“I thought that we had agreed to become public today?”
“I know but I want to keep the suspense going on a little bit. I’ll post something later, in the evening.” You explained as both of your hands were on the nape of his neck, playing with the strands of his hair.
“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Toto mumbled before leaning down closer and brushing his lips against yours. Your body melted as you opened your legs further as he slotted his body in between your thighs. Your mouth fell open as you gasped, feeling his hardening cock on the flesh of your thigh.
His kisses were like molasses, his tongue pouring into your mouth like sweet honey. Your cunt was weeping for more of his attention as if he hadn’t been inside of you an hour ago. Your manicured nails scratched at his scalp which caused him to groan into your mouth.
Toto broke away from the kiss and trailed tender kisses along your jawline and then down the column of your neck. “If I don’t stop now, we wont be able to leave this bed and every thing that I had planned for us for the day would go to waste.” He whispered into your skin before he took a deep breath and pulled his body away from you with great reluctance.
You smiled at him as your eyes drank him in, letting your gaze explore every part of him. Years of experience showed on him and he wore them with great confidence. Hard in the right places and soft in others and you loved every inch of him. His thickness stood erect in between his legs. Thinking about the way that he had brought you pleasure over the year and had your thighs clenching.
A part of you wanted to tell him to forget about the plans and spend the day with him in the suite with your body on his. However, the fact that Toto would need to fly out to Saudi Arabia for coming race weekend put your lazy thoughts to rest.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Toto mumbled, a smiled blossoming across his face as he swatted your rising leg that had been coming towards his chest.
“I can’t help it. You’re too handsome.” You complimented him which caused him to roll his eyes as he got off the bed and picked you up into his arms and began walking towards the bathroom.
“You flutter me sweet girl but today it’s all about you. I should be the one showering you with praises.”
“You do that everyday.” You giggled as you placed a peck on his chest.
“And you deserve it even more today.”
[ INSTAGRAM STORY ]
thelovelyyn • 30 minutes ago
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[ TWITTER ]
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“I think our fans have caught on before the main post has been uploaded. We’re the talk of the twitter streets all thanks to your back.” You told Toto as you walked to the main area of the suite where he was he packed your presents and gifts away.
“I was wearing a cap and a jacket, how did people even pick up that it was me.” He chuckled as he turned around to you at his full height.
“You have a pretty distinctive figure. I’ve spent so much time looking at you that I could probably point out who you were even if my vision was blurred.” Your last comment caused Toto to laugh.
He took your hand into yours and pulled you into his embrace until he was able to cup your head into his hands. “Did you enjoy your day baby?”
“I loved it. Thank you for everything.” You whispered as you looked into his eyes. Toto had spent the day spoiling you. A trip to the local market to get some sentimental souvenirs and then a personal boat ride along the coast line. You spent most of the day out in the water swimming and enjoying each other’s company.
Once back on land in the evening, he took you to dinner at your favourite Italian bistro and surprised you with a live performance from a local artist that you come to love since the last time you had visited the area.
Despite all of the materialistic things that he had been able to provide, Toto had poured his love, time and care into you and you overwhelmed with how much you loved him. You were happy.
His eyes danced around your features, drinking them in like he was looking at you for the first time. He held you in his arms as your bodies seemed to dance to a silent tune.
“I love the way you look at me.” You softly say as your eyes lock with his.
“I love looking at you.” His head tipped against your forehead causing his nose to bump against yours. The touch aroused a shameless giggle to leave you before your lips touched his. Your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck as you relaxed into his hold.
His hands moved along the sides of your body and across your back as he pulled you in closer as he enjoyed the feel of your soft skin underneath his fingertips. A soft sigh left you as Toto had began to press kisses on your neck until he got to the sweet spot where your jaw met your neck.
You could feel his smile against his skin as you jerked in his arms as he used his teeth to tease the sensitive spot. Toto let his skim over your drumming pulse, leaving a kiss on the vein as he made his way back up your jawline before stopping in front of your lips.
“Toto.” you mumbled against his lips as your eyes peered up at his.
“Yes sweetheart?”
“Don’t take it easy on me. I want it all.”
“Are you sure you want that tonight?” He smirked, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back to look at you to check for any uncertainty.
He found none.
“I’m sure.”
He took you to the bedroom and did not waste any time in undressing you. Laying kisses on your skin as he did so and by the time he was drawing your thongs down the length of your legs, you were drowning in your own arousal.
Toto laid you on the bed and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Something dark and filled with lust rested in his eyes as he sank to his knees before you. Without breaking eye contact, Toto leaned in and let his lips touch the skin on the inner most part of your right thigh – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat.
He softly chuckled at the reaction. It was the same one every time and he would never get tired of hearing it. His eyes locked in your soaked cunt and he groaned.
“Look at this pretty pussy.” He said. “All messy for me isn’t it schatz?”
“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his dark gaze. Toto hooked his hand under your thighs and then placed them over his shoulders giving him the most perfect view of your wet cunt.
“You told me not to take it easy on you yeah?” He whispered as you looked down at him. This time you didn’t give him a verbal answer, you just nodded your head. Toto closed the distance and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly on your clit before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips as your hand ran through his hair to keep it from falling over his face but also to anchor yourself as the flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, not letting any of your arousal miss his mouth.
His mouth felt so good.
His mouth always felt so good but today there was something electric in the way his tongue teased your hole before going back to pay attention to your clit.
You couldn’t hold back your moans. Your legs dug into the groves of his back as you moved your body bucked to the patterns of Toto’s tongue.
“Oh fuck!” You exclaimed when he found your clit again, an intensity building in your core as you continued to buck your hips into his face. Spurred on by your noises and movements, Toto sucked on your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes and repeating the actions over and over until your legs were trapping in his head.
You squeezed your eyes shut as your back arched off the bed. Your orgasm was approaching quickly and all it took was one more sweep of his tongue on your clit before your floodgates opened and you came into Toto’s mouth. Your body had locked up and kept him in between your thighs as you tried to calm down.
Your first orgasm had rocked you. For how much Toto loved to speak, he also knew how to use his mouth very well for other things. When your legs began to relax, he pressed soft kisses in the creases of your thighs.
His kisses trailed back up your body as his big hands held you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down. He hummed as a lazy smile spread across his face as he hovered above you. He was still dressed but his skin was tinting red with the bottom half of his face, wet from your cunt.
“Sit up and lean against the pillows.” He instructed you. You didn’t hesitate to follow what he had told you. “Spread your legs … yeah, that’s it.” Toto kept his eyes on you as he stripped his body of his clothing. He stood in front of her at the edge of the bed with his cock in his hand as he jerked himself.
Your hands were itching to travel down body and shove your fingers inside of your pussy but he hadn’t told you to do any of that. You bit your lip as you watched him continue stroking himself. He was clearly affected too.
He was panting as he used his thumb to spread his pre-cum across his tip. The move caused you to lick your lips with a slight hunger.
“You want my dick in your mouth baby?” He smirked as he caught you.
“Yeah.” You whispered as a blush creeps up your cheeks. The bed dips with the weight of Toto shifting on top of it until he was hovering above you.
“Maybe tomorrow but tonight is all about me giving you exactly what you wanted.” He shocked you by shifting your positions until you were above him. You gasped as you placed your hands on either side of his head to steady yourself.
“Sit on this dick. Take it.” You settle your legs comfortably on either side of his waist as he leaned back on the headrest as you hovered your hips above his impressive cock. You placed one hand on his shoulder as you guided his dick into your cunt.
His hands steadied your hips as you slowly sank down onto him. Your mouth fell open as the size of him stretched your walls open. Your cunt was still softly aching from this morning but you felt whole with him back inside of you. He tried to ease you all the way down and once you were filled to the brim.
“Uuuuhhh.” You whimpered feeling him so deeply. Toto reached forward and placed a soft kiss on your chest as he moved one of his hands to the bottom of your back and began to guide your movement.
“That’s it schatz, takin’ all that cock for me like the good girl you are.” He praised you as you rocked forward in his lap to the set tempo.
“You always feel so deep like this.” You breathed out as you dug your nails into the muscles of his shoulders. The expression on your face right now is why Toto loved starting out with you on top. He smiled as soft mewls left your lips.
“Because it feels good doesn’t it liebling.” He cooed and you frantically nodded your head. You couldn’t answer because all you feel was his cock hitting your spot and you could see stars behind your eyes.
“Bounce on this cock baby. I need you to come on my cock.”
You had tried to start off slow but you were already tethering on the edge of your second orgasm. Your bounces were fast and eager - the drag of his cock inside you felt so different tonight. You opened your eyes and took him in. His eyes were glazed over as he parted his lips to let out unrestricted sounds. The noises that he made were deep and rugged, moving his hips to meet the momentum of your pleasure.
“Liebling you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned. “You’re about to come aren’t you? You’re about to come on my cock.”
“Uh-uh,” you moaned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your thighs were burning from how fast you were working them but it didn’t matter until his thumb hit your clit.
“Oh shit! Oh shit!” You gasped as you fell forward until your head hit his shoulders as your entire being shook as your climax rocked your body. Both of his hands wrapped around your waist as he stilled you and fucked up into you as you fell apart in his arms.
Breathy, whiny moans left you in quick succession as you drenched his length. Feeling your cum soak him causes Toto to loudly groan. “I love the way you soak me.”
He held you until your tremors had subsided.
Then his soft touch turned hard. Toto folded your body, pliant under his touch - he put you underneath him on your stomach with your ass in the air, supported by pillows as your still quaking legs.
Toto pushes back in and your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock. Your fingers pull at the sheets underneath your fingertips as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against the back of your thighs. “My perfect girl. Tight like a vice around me. You have no idea how good you feel.”
“Baby.” You whimpered as he moved to pull out until only his head remained inside. His hands parted your ass cheeks as he watched himself sink back into you.
“I wish how beautiful your pussy looks when it’s stuffed full of me.” His words were dripping with unadulterated filth. His words, his hips powering his thrusts, his scent, you were completely drunk with lust.
When you had told him to not take it easy on you, you had assumed that Toto would take you hard and fast but no, he took the other route of overstimulation. You were only able to handle two orgasms before your body became sensitive.
Your third orgasm was on the rise.
He lowered himself until his strong chest was pressing into your back - his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "From the moment I saw you that day, I knew I had to have you. You were so beautiful schatz.” Your walls clamped down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him.
"Fucking hell, this pussy is magical. And it’s all mine.”
“It’s y-yours baby.” You gassed through rugged breaths of air.
“That’s right baby. I’m never letting you go.” Toto grinded into your ass, going in so deep it felt like he was trying to touch your womb. He placed his hands flat on either side of your head as he rolled his hips in a rhythmic languid motion until loud, squelching noises coming from where the two of you were connected.
Your hands wrapped around his wrists as you took his pounds in stride. “Oh please!” You cried, begging as your stomach tightened in knots. Toto growled as he shook your hand away and wrapped his palm around your neck and turned your head in a way that forced him to look up at you.
He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “The look on your face right now makes me want to fuck you more.”
You were at a loss for the words. In the time that you’d been with the older man, he’d never fucked you like this - this was the fucking of a man unhinged and you loved it.
His whole body was covering you with his full weight behind every spine-curling thrust. His hand was restricting your air as his dick punched the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat but failing to come out.
Toto had finally broken you. You mind had gone blank and your body seemed to have gone momentarily numb as you finally snapped —
Your mouth fell open as a loud scream left you, your eyelids squeezed shut as you broke underneath him, heat gushing from where Toto continued to sink into you with a steady, slow rhythm that never ended
“That was the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever done for me sweetheart. Squirting all over me but still taking my dick because you’re such a good girl huh.” His praise made you swoon and clench tightly on his cock.
Your bodies were drenched in sweat and the musk of your love-making.
Toto dragged your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it hard as you took his sloppy thrusts. His harsh panting was music to your ears until he moaned “I’m so close baby, so fucking close.”
With all of the strength that you had left, you mastered the words that would break any man.
“Come in me, please.”
And they definitely broke him. His body collapsed, dropping the both of you onto the bed. His hands gripped your hips as he slammed his hips into yours. One … two … three … Toto roared out his release - his cock twitching inside of your used cunt and filling you with his spend.
His damp forehead touched your back as he took in deep breaths of air as tremors of his climax send waves through his body.
Your eyes were closed as you silently took in how thoroughly fucked you had been. Then he began to leave kisses along the column of your spine.
“Happy birthday, princess.”
Happy birthday to you indeed.
[ INSTAGRAM ]
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liked by lewishamilton, jamilah.riley and 523 k others
thelovelyyn Thank you to my loulou for making this birthday one for the books. i love you
view limited comments
mercedesamgf1 Happy Birthday YN! The factory misses you.
⤷thelovelyyn mercedesamgf1 thank you! will be visiting again soon!
lewishamilton thank god. now people can stop thinking that we’re together.
⤷ thelovelyyn lewishamilton like anyone wants you anyway 😆
⤷lewishamilton thelovelyyn my girl would beg to differ
teamlh6 lewishamilton your girl????? EXCUSE ME!!!
mercfan01 A true fashion girlie is about to grace the paddock. I’m living!
ynfanpage05 the fact that you’ve been together for a year now 😭 we need the pictures sister
⤷thelovelyyn ynfanpage05 Toto hates selfies but I’ll post all my fave pictures over time 😂
userfan829 Seeing Toto with you has charmed me.
ynfan178 I would have never expected that you guys would be a couple but seeing the two of you together is like a breath of fresh air.
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ru’s letter: please let me know what you think! 💋
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art · 3 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws
Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.
Check out our interview with Jiji below!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.
What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!
What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.
If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?
Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.
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rhettabbotts · 3 months
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baby, if you only knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
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pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
summary: tensions boil over and everything changes for you and rhett one night at a rancher’s event you attend.
w/c: 5.4k (she’s a mammoth)
warnings: 18+ only. smut. age gap (babysitter 20s, rhett 40s). dirty talk. making out in an elevator. daddy kink. possessive rhett. slightly rough sex. cunnilingus. hair pulling. overstimulation. size kink. aftercare. rhett’s grey hair. some fluff.
a/n: i can see you by taylor swift is to blame for this. enjoy the filth! also couldn’t stop myself from adding some babysitter lore. also see green, green dress from tick, tick…boom! for the dress reference!
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Six months. Six long, tortuous months of working under Rhett Abbott’s roof.
Okay, it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be in your head. His daughters were angels, and you appreciated that he worked with your school schedule as you attended your graduate program. And he let you live in his guest room rent free.
But it was sweet torture. You had fallen hard for the single father of two and it made every day even harder than the last. Rhett was a wonderful man, an attentive father, and a hell of a cook. A hard worker and he was so handsome, you could hardly breathe around him. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the cowboy?
You tried everything in the world to rid your thoughts of him, but you were highly unsuccessful. And he only did things that made it worse. Every time you brushed by him in the halls it felt like electricity coursed through your entire body. He had to feel it too, right?
Delusional. That’s what you were. You were the babysitter. Nothing more. Eventually, the girls would grow up and you wouldn’t be needed anymore. And that thought caused your chest to tighten painfully.
What a thought to have while washing the dishes. You heard your name but it sounded far off, like your ears were full of cotton.
“Tilly, come quick!” Grace shouted once more to get your attention. It made you turn abruptly, soap suds went flying as you dropped the ceramic pot you were washing. “Sorry,” she mumbled when you glared slightly at her.
“What’s wrong, Gracie?” you questioned as you wiped your hands off with the flower embroidered kitchen towel. Something you bought and put out to leave your own touch on this place.
“Oh. Nothing. Ellie just wanted to show you that we won our game.” The girls had been obsessed with Super Mario Brothers and had been playing it for days.
“That’s great guys! How about we take a break and you help me get dinner started?”
“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” Ellie, Rhett’s younger daughter pouted, bright blue eyes pleading. She and Grace were the carbon copies of Rhett. Same eyes, same nose, same crooked smile. You could never say no to them.
“Of course. But don’t tell your dad,” you whispered, placing your finger to your lips like it was a top secret.
The girls helped you finish the food just as Rhett came in from another long day of herding and branding cattle. He was dusty, covered in dirt and sweat and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead, the ends curling up. You wanted to run your fingers through it, sweat be damned.
“Daddy!” “Daddy, look at what we made!”
The girls ran towards Rhett, pausing when they got close enough to smell him.
“You stink,” Grace commented flatly.
“Thanks. Love you too. Listen, I’m gonna go shower and I’ll be down in a bit. You all can start without me,” Rhett said as he kicked his boots off by the door and took the stairs two at a time. “Oh, and Tilly?” He called from the upstairs landing.
“Yeah?”
“I gotta ask you something later. Don’t let me forget.”
You just nodded, stomach turning at the thought of what it could be.
Grace and Ellie helped you set the table, always eager to follow your every move. It makes you smile. Sometimes you felt like an actual family. And then you had to bring yourself back to reality. Just the nanny. Nothing more. Dinner was quiet, everyone was hungry and occupied with getting their bellies full.
You were resting on the couch as Rhett finished bath and bed time with the girls, trying to read your latest book but your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Your heart started to beat faster as you heard Rhett descend down the stairs.
Rhett took himself to the kitchen, busying himself by pouring a glass of whiskey. A bottle you bought for him for Christmas the year prior. You peeked at him over the top of your book, watching his back muscles flex in the tight black tee he wore. Your mouth watered at the sight of his strong arms and his soft stomach as he turned to face you.
You quickly raised the book above your eyes, fearing that you had been caught staring. You missed Rhett’s knowing smirk.
“Move over,” Rhett poked at the bottom of your foot, the motion tickling you ever so slightly and causing you to jerk your leg towards you. “What are you reading? New dirty novel?” He teased.
“No…” you said quietly, a little shamefully.
“Liar. Is this one better than the last at least?”
“So far. Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier?” You stretched your legs back out and they landed in Rhett’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind. His unoccupied hand landed on your shin, calloused thumb lightly brushing the bone there. Your mind went blank and you could hear nothing but static in your ears.
“I got invited to this rancher’s event. They want me to give a speech. Stupid, but I agreed. And I… I need a plus one. And I figured maybe if you wanted to-“
“Yes!” You said eagerly, spine straightening. “I mean- sorry- go ahead…” Your cheeks felt hot at your abruptness. He was probably going to ask you to set him up with someone. Probably Lisa, Ellie’s dance teacher. She always had her eye on him.
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me. Give you a break. It’s the weekend my parents wanted to take the girls camping. That is.. if you didn’t have any plans…”
Rhett sounded nervous. He was looking down at where his hand rested on your leg, avoiding all eye contact.
“Oh. Yeah. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll go with you. As-“
“Friends, of course.”
“Right. Friends. What’s the dress code?” You asked, heart sinking slightly.
“Black tie,” Rhett grumbled. He hated dressing up. If he can’t wear flannel, he doesn’t want to be there.
“Perfect. I’ll find a dress to wear.”
“Well. I’ll leave you to the reading. Goodnight, Tilly.” Rhett tapped your leg a couple of times before moving you so he could stand.
You sighed deeply as he left the room, trying to ignore the gut wrenching feeling you had at his response. You couldn’t focus on your book and you eventually went upstairs to attempt to sleep.
“I want you so bad,” Rhett growled against your neck, teeth sinking into your skin causing you to whimper and arch against him. His leg was in between yours, keeping your thighs separated and your barely covered cunt brush against his suit pants. “You’re fucking soaked, sweet girl. You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”
“Rhett, please!” You whined pathetically, grinding down on his thigh, searching for any sort of relief.
“Beg for it, baby. Beg for daddy. Tell me what you want.” Rhett said, voice low and gravelly. He pressed you into the wall harder, flexing his thigh as you keened. “I know you want me to fu-“
“Tillyyyyyy, wake uppppp,” a tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Your eyes shot open so fast it made your head spin. Your entire body was hot even though you just had the sheet covering you and the ceiling fan was on. You were having a dream about Rhett. A fucking wet dream. And now Ellie was yelling at you in the hallway. You felt like you were being punished.
You checked your phone. 5:37am. Jesus, why was she awake?
“I’m up, El. Hold your horses.” You went to the en-suite bathroom to splash cold water on your face. “Get yourself together. Now,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at yourself in the mirror.
The four-year-old stood outside your door with her stuffed horse tucked under her arms. Her eyes were a little red and she was sniffling.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I feel sick,” she whispered weakly, clutching the horse to her chest tighter.
“Come on, bug. I’ll get you some medicine.”
You picked her up and perched her on your hip as you carried her down the stairs. Her forehead felt a little warm. She sat patiently on the counter while you poured the medicine in the little cup and you rubbed her back as she swallowed it.
“Good job, El! I’m proud of you. Here, drink some water and let’s get you back to bed, okay?”
She nodded as she took a big gulp of water from her sippy cup. You trotted back up the stairs, bouncing her slightly to make her giggle.
“Alright, you got your water here and Honey is right here with you. Try to get some sleep, bug. I’ll fix pancakes when you wake up.” You tucked Ellie in, kissing her forehead before you stood up.
Her eyes were already heavy and she mumbled something you couldn’t hear.
“What was that?”
“Luh you, mama.” She repeated sleepily, snuggling her horse and then started snoring softly immediately.
“Oh… I- I love you too, bug.”
You didn’t know how to react. She had never called you that before and it made your eyes misty with tears. You couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after the dream and not after Ellie calling you mama.
The next few hours went by in a blur. You had planned to go shopping with your friend Tabitha to find your dress for the dinner. After dropping the girls off at school, you met Tabitha at the mall. You were in a daze, barely listening to her rant about her latest failed Tinder date.
“Hellooooo,” she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Are you even listening?”
“Yeah, sorry. No, I’m just- I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sighed as you placed your face in your hands.
“What do you mean?”
“With Rhett! It’s like- why am I going to this dinner? Why do I keep torturing myself? And Ellie! She called me her mom this morning! I want a family and I feel like I have it but it’s not really mine, you know?”
“You need to get laid. That’s what you need,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She looked through the dresses on the rack in the store you were in. “Oh. My. God. This. This dress. Go try it on. NOW!”
She shoved a velvet dress into your arms and pushed you towards the fitting rooms. It was a deep green color, the fabric felt soft against your skin. It wasn’t a dress you would pick out for yourself but once you slid it over your head your jaw dropped at the sight in the mirror.
The bodice was a corset type, something you didn’t typically reach for but was pleasantly surprised at how it looked on you. The dress was form fitting but not uncomfortably so. The strap tied around your neck, lifting your chest and displaying the tops of your breasts tastefully.
The dress hugged your every curve, accentuating parts of your body you weren’t necessarily happy with, but now you felt sexy. Powerful. You opened the door and called for Tabitha. She came running with a few other options in her hands but her reaction matched your own as she laid eyes on you.
“Holy fuck. Yeah, no, forget these. You have to get that one. If he doesn’t fuck you, I will.”
You rolled her eyes at her antics and looked into the mirror once more. You felt so beautiful in the dress. It made you a little giddy at the thought of Rhett’s reaction. If he even had one. You tried to shake the negative thought away. If he didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe a nice cowboy who’d be down for a one night stand at a fancy hotel.
The week passed by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Rhett was packing the girls’ bags for their camping trip and was shouting up at you that he was going to pick up his suit in town from the tailor’s.
You took your time styling your hair the way you liked and you did your makeup, keeping it light but putting on a red lip. Just to be a little bold.
You hid in your room until you heard Rhett finish getting ready and head down the stairs.
“Tilly, you ready? We should leave so-“ Rhett stopped as he turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the wood. “Wow…” he breathed. “You look, ehem, you look nice. That’s a pretty dress.” He fiddled with his cuff links, avoiding eye contact.
“Thank you,” you responded shyly. He held his arm out to escort you to the black pickup truck. The ride was silent except for the radio and the hum of the engine. You couldn’t stop from looking to Rhett. His hair was slicked back, the gray hair looked more prominent. His temples were nearly white. He had a shadow of stubble on his jaw and his suit fit him in all the right places.
You pulled up to a beautiful hotel. It was a grand building, accents of gold sparkled in the setting sun and gorgeous flowers lined the walkways. Rows of trucks indicated that you were at the right place. And the men in bolo ties and cowboy hats gave it away.
Rhett forwent his Stetson and chose a sleek black tie, looking a little out of place but you thought he looked beautiful.
He parked and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and closing his eyes.
“Everything okay?” You questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his forearm.
“Huh? Yeah. M’good. Just nervous. I can’t stand half the people in that room,” he mumbled, smiling softly at you. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’ll do great. I can fake an emergency if needed.”
“Fall down the stairs if I give you a look,” Rhett joked.
“You got it, boss,” you winked at him. You reached for the door handle, preparing to get out of the truck but his hand on your arm now stopped you.
“Wait… I have something for you. A token of appreciation for coming with me. Also, an early birthday present.”
Rhett pulled a long, rectangular box from the side of the door. He opened it to show a diamond bracelet.
“Rhett- that’s- I can’t-“ You couldn’t stop from reaching out and running your fingers along the jewels.
“You deserve it. You work so hard and I don’t say it enough but you mean a lot to me. To the girls. Just wanted to give you something nice,” he said, voice a little shaky.
Something shifted as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. His touch lingered on your skin and it was hard for you to breathe. You tried so hard to keep things professional, but it’s changed. Everything has changed in the cab of Rhett’s truck.
You headed inside, arm linked with Rhett’s as he greeted the people inside. He was so charismatic, putting on a face you’d never seen before. It was sexy. He was controlling the room. Everyone loved him.
You could feel eyes following you as you walked towards the front of the ballroom. You heard a few whispers from the older women, surely gossiping about the obvious age gap between you and your employer.
“I’m gonna grab some drinks. You gonna be okay here?” Rhett whispered in your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine.
“I’ll be good. Can you get me a Long Island?”
“Of course. Be right back.” He hurried off towards the bar, getting stopped several times along the way. You felt like a fish out of water here. You chewed on your thumb nail, anxiously waiting for Rhett to come back.
“I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see the chair to your right being pulled away and a young man, around your age, sat down beside you. His black cowboy hat hid his eyes but he had a wide smirk on his face.
“I bet you’ve said that at least ten times tonight,” you responded, trying to ignore him.
“Name’s Wes. And you are-“
“Not interested. Beat it, buddy,” Rhett growled as he sat your drinks down and sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair possessively.
“I see how it is. Rhett… good to see you.”
Rhett hummed as he glared at Wes over the rim of his glass, silently willing him to scram. It was hot.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“He’s trouble,” Rhett mumbled.
The evening went on without a hitch. Dinner was decent and you joined in on a few conversations. Rhett’s speech was wonderful and informative about the cattle business. He looked good on stage but you knew he was nervous. He made his way back to you, smiling slightly.
“Come dance with me, honey,” he spoke lowly.
“Let me go freshen up a bit,” you squeaked, rushing to the bathroom. Your nerves were getting the best of you. It was just a dance. A quick dance and you’d be heading home. Nothing more.
You made your way back to the ballroom, catching Rhett’s eyes and you trembled slightly at the heat that formed there. A slow song started just as you made your way to the dance floor.
His large hand engulfed yours as his other splayed on the low of your back. You could smell his cologne as he pulled you close to him. You felt a piece of paper in your right palm as Rhett swayed the two of you around.
“What’s that?”
“You can read it when we’re done dancin’,” Rhett drawled, looking down at you. Even with you in heels, his frame still towered over you.
The song ended too quickly for your liking and Rhett was called over to a table filled with older gentlemen, leaving you standing in the middle of the floor. The crumpled napkin had been left in your hand and you spread it out to read the note.
Meet me at the staircase by the piano - R
You gasped slightly and looked around, meeting Rhett’s eyes as he chatted with the group he was with. He was expressionless but there was a fire in his eyes again. One that made your body react and you tried not to squeeze your thighs together in front of everyone there. You made your way back to your table to drink the rest of your drink, a little liquid courage, before you made your way to the staircase.
You stood there for what felt like ages but in reality was only a few minutes. You bounced on your feet, nerves building every second that passed.
“Hey, you,” Rhett’s voice called from behind you, approaching you with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” you responded, feeling awkward.
Rhett pulled a key from his pocket. A hotel room key. Room 475 engraved in the key tag.
“You can say no. You can tell me to fuck off. You can quit-“
“Yes,” the answer came without a beat.
“Yeah?” His eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his thin lips.
“You have no idea how bad I want you, Rhett,” you confessed, breathless.
Rhett let out a desperate noise as he reached for you and crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head. You moaned wantonly as his tongue expertly licked into your mouth. You should go upstairs, should stop before anyone sees you.
“Rhett, we should- we need to-“
“Yeah… Yeah.”
His hand linked with yours as he pulled you to the elevator, not wasting time pushing you inside and against the wall, the railing digging into your lower spine a bit uncomfortably. His lips reconnected with yours, a low grunt escaping his throat.
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, lips barely leaving yours. Hands explored your body, gripping at your soft hips and thighs, circling around to grab handfuls of your ass. The touch caused you to arch your body towards his, back bowing as he traveled higher and started palming your breast.
“I’ve thought about this - thought about you - for longer than I’d like to admit,” Rhett spoke, deep voice rattling in his chest. “Makes me feel like a dirty old man.”
You just whined pathetically, gripping at his lapels to anchor yourself. You were about to grind against the thigh that had pushed its way between your thighs but the high pitched ding of the elevator caused you to jump apart. Moving so fast, you would have thought you had been electrocuted.
A little old lady walked into the elevator, not missing the way you and Rhett looked disheveled. It was blatantly obvious what you were just doing. Rhett cracked a smile at her, nodding his head in her direction. Your chest was still heaving and your knees felt shaky.
She only went up two floors, a quick ride that felt like an eternity. Rhett’s pinky brushed against your hand where it rested on the rail, the small touch sending shocks through you.
“Have a nice evenin, ma’am,” Rhett said sickeningly sweet and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh at the look she threw his way as she exited the lift.
Your stop was next and nerves bubbled in your stomach at what was about to happen.
Silence surrounded you and Rhett now as you walked to the room. Not a word was spoken as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. You stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wringing your hands together as you looked toward the wooden floor.
Rhett tossed his jacket haphazardly onto the floor, approaching you slowly. Giving you the chance to run. It reminded you of a lion stalking a gazelle before it pounced. His calloused hands rubbed the length of your arms before his touch brushed the side of your neck, eventually cupping your face. A rough thumb caressed your cheekbone.
“Darlin’, look at me. Please,” Rhett spoke quietly, as if not to scare you. You continued to look down, which caused him to pinch your chin and lift your gaze to him. “Are you sure about this? We can- we don’t have to-“
“No. No, I want to. I have for a while. A long, long while.”
“Good,” he said, coming out an octave lower and his eyes landed on your red covered lips. His thumb ran across the pout of your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “I want to devour you.”
A shaky breath escaped you before you wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking softly on the digit.
“Fuck,” he moaned.
You stood there for a moment, his thumb in your mouth and your eyes locked on each other. It made tensions rise tenfold. You pulled away with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva following in its wake.
Impatience got the best of you as you started clawing at his tie and shirt buttons, nearly sending them flying through the room. Rhett chuckled at your huffy breaths of frustration as you yanked on his clothing. You threw the tie behind you, his shirt was shoved off his shoulder and into the chair next to the door. His belt made a loud clink as it hit the window.
“Easy, girl. Don’t destroy the room. Or my clothes,” Rhett teased, stopping your hasty movements. You finally took the chance to pause and look at the man standing before you. Hairy chest on full display. The dark hair traveled down in a continuous line all the way down to the waist of his pants. His soft stomach and love handles made your mouth water.
“You’re so- fuck, Rhett. You’re so sexy,” you said.
“My turn.” He untied the neck of your dress slowly, taking his time pulling the bow loose. He turned you so your back was to him, unzipping you unhurriedly. You let the dress fall to your feet as you turned to face him again, leaving you in your lingerie and high heels.
“My god. Look at you.” Rhett took in the sight of you. Black lace left little to the imagination.
Things moved in a blur after that. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to remove the heels and he almost ripped your bra as he unclasped it with one hand. He tossed it aside and you tried not to giggle as it landed on the lampshade of the lamp that sat on the bedside table.
The edge of the bed knocked against the back of your knees as he pushed you softly so you landed on your back, bouncing on the mattress slightly. He stood between your spread thighs, undoing the button of his slack and pushing them down, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath.
You let out a quiet whine as your eyes traveled down his torso and stopping at the large bulge that was confined by the cotton. Even in the low lighting, you could see a small wet spot from the precum.
Large hands massaged your inner thighs as he spread them apart even farther, causing a slight burn in your muscles. He groaned at the sight of your barely clothed cunt. Rhett fell to his knees swiftly and delved into you without warning. Expert licks moved against your wetness through the thin lace, which had been quickly ripped away. His nose bumped against your bundle of nerves as his tongue explored your folds.
His long fingers soon joined his ministrations, finding that spongy spot inside of you in a matter of seconds. You’d question how he did that later. As of now, you tried to control your shaking limbs as he pushed you higher and higher towards your peak. Scratchy stubble rubbed against you, causing a delicious burn.
He stuck true to his word and devoured you, not leaving one part of you undiscovered.
Rhett’s lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking softly, tongue flicking against the bud. You trembled beneath him and your back bowed off the mattress, bucking against his mouth. A strong arm slung itself over your middle, keeping you pinned to the bed.
Your hands gripped his locks tightly, tugging hard when his tongue sped up.
“Rhett. Oh, Rhett. Fuck. Daddy!” It didn’t take much for your moans to become near screams and for galaxies to explode behind your eyelids as you came against Rhett’s face. Your body was jerking involuntarily as you traveled down from your high. Rhett placed feather light kisses against you before pulling away, hair sticking up in places and his face covered in your release.
He traveled up your body and kissed you soundly, the tangy taste of your desire mixing with something so Rhett made you both moan into each other’s mouths.
“Lay back, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you,” Rhett said quietly. You made yourself comfortable against the soft pillows as Rhett stretched you in preparation for his cock. “Damn pillow princess,” he joked. It made you smile.
He had three thick fingers inside of you before you stopped him.
“Stop! Please! I- I wanna come with you inside me,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist. He nodded and pulled his fingers out fleetingly.
You blindly shoved at his boxers and he clumsily kicked them off the end of the bed, his hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. Fuck, he was big.
Rhett pulled back and sat on his knees, gripping the base of his dick and placing it on your stomach.
“Look, baby. You think you can take me? Think you can handle daddy’s cock?”
“Please! Please, fuck me. Need it. Need you. Please!” You begged, lifting your hips and causing the leaking head to brush against your already sensitive clit. You simultaneously let out a loud moan. He rubbed himself through your folds, teasing you and him both.
“Wait, hold on.” Rhett pulled away and searched for his trousers, pulling his wallet out and rummaging through it. He pulled out a foil wrapper and ripped it with his teeth. You had never seen anything sexier.
“Can I do it?” You asked shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He handed the condom to you and kept eye contact as you rolled the latex down his length carefully. He was heavy in your hand.
You laid back once more, a trembling breath escaping your mouth as he lined up with your entrance. Even with his prepping, it was still a stretch. The slight burn caused you to hiss and dig your nails into his biceps. He took a break between each inch, time passing slowly as he made small thrusts. He eventually bottomed out, a broken moan coming from his chest as you squeezed around his length.
You stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily as his forearms caged you in.
“Daddy. Move. Please,” you whined, fingers moving tangle in the curls at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you, the girth and length of him touching places you’d never been able to reach before. It started slow, he was allowing you to get accustomed to him.
However, it didn’t take long before his thrusts became a little rougher. His hands now were placed a the top of your head as he put his body weight into his movements, grunts escaping him with each pass, your high pitched breaths matching him.
“So tight. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for it. Made for me. All mine, all mine,” Rhett rambled. The headboard started to smack against the wall slightly as he pounded into you. You couldn’t breathe. You were approaching a feeling you had never felt before. Your brain was becoming fuzzy and your ears were beginning to ring.
“Da-daddy. M’gonna- I’m almost there,” you squealed as a particularly harsh thrust hit your g-spot.
“C’mon, sweet baby. Come for daddy,” his deft fingers started rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles and you let out a scream as your release washed over you. Rhett continued fucking into you until he pushed deep inside you and threw his head back towards the ceiling, filling the condom with his own release.
He collapsed on top of you, full body weight covering you like a blanket. You felt like were floating. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed against Rhett’s back, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. You stayed silent for a while, both trying to catch your breaths as you came down. He eventually pulled out of you slowly, causing you to wince. He discarded the condom and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and a glass of water.
You were quiet as he took care of you, smiling softly as he pulled you to sit up and take a few sips of water. You had never been cared for like this after sex. It made your chest constrict. You moved under the covers and waited for Rhett to follow suit. He immediately pressed his warm body against your own, pulling you tight to his chest.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said with a slight giggle.
“I can’t believe it took us this long,” Rhett retorted, fingers dancing along your spine.
You both laughed a little before it fell silent once again.
“Rhett?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“What does this make us?” You asked as you ran your fingers through the thick chest hair.
“Well… I think this means you’ll be sleeping in my bed when we get home. But don’t call HR on me.”
“You are HR, Rhett. Seriously, though. Are we like-“
“I want you to be my girl. I have spent the past several months falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon, but damn it, darlin’. You’ve stolen my heart,” Rhett confessed, his words causing your eyes to well with tears.
“Rhett… I- I love you, too.”
“The girls are going to be excited. They’ve been begging me to ask you to be my girlfriend since you moved in.”
“They’re trouble, I swear,” you laughed, snuggling closer to your man.
“They’re the reason I have all of this gray hair.”
“Yeah, but it’s hot. Very… very… very hot,” you responded, emphasizing the T. You giggled as he rolled over on top of you and started kissing against your neck playfully.
You kissed each other softly in the dark until you fell asleep holding each other tight. And when the sun rose in the morning, a new beginning would be awaiting you.
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tagging those who may be interested:
@ryebecca @whisperofsong @floydsmuse @laracrofted @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @bobfloydsbabe @callsign-magnolia @attapullman
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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months
Text
Place Hands Here
Suguru Geto
originally posted on AO3! :) this was sugu's birthday fic :3
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fem reader, established relationship, vaginal sex, some dry humping, choking (geto), riding, referenced cannabis use
3.5k
MDNI
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“Thank you, baby,” Geto says with so much fondness in his voice as he rests his hand on your thigh and gives it an ample squeeze. The size of his hands never fails to amaze you, palms splaying and engulfing the thickness of your thighs with no issue; veins on his hands serving as a roadmap to the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.
It’s been a little over a year since you started dating, but his velvety voice still warms your chest nearly every time he speaks. It provides the same comfort as a blanket knitted with ounces and ounces of love; every stitch curated to provide your brain with a rush of dopamine. Gentle, yet every bit commanding and domineering. He can make a king hand over their throne to him with just a few words without even trying, you’re pretty sure.
“I had a great time,” he adds on, pressing a soft kiss to the temple of your forehead.
“You better have.” Resting your hand over his, your thumb brushes against the skin on the top of his palm. His skin is always smoother than yours, soft and supple like clouds floating through the bluest of skies. Every gentle graze of yours still manages to send a jolt down his spine. “Or else I would have cried.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” His soft chuckle fills the space in the back of the Uber you two are in. 
City lights illuminate the night as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, soft patter of rain against the window mixed with the crooning of Radiohead filling the space. A sigh of content leaves your lips as your head rests on his shoulders, heavy from all the events of the day.
It’s been a great day—a long, but great day.
Time wanes, only about an hour remaining in the momentous day that is Geto’s birthday.
He’s a simple man, never asking for much and always appreciating what is given to him. It’s one of the things you love about him, but it also drives you up a wall. He knows this, always teasing you that there’s no reason to stress yourself out regarding his general satisfaction with however the day is celebrated. With you, anything is ideal.
Even if that means telling you again and again that there’s no need to worry about things being perfect when you’re already by his side. Still, his heart thumps knowing every little thing you do is with his joy in mind.
Like starting the day with a perfectly rolled joint and taking him to one of his favorite diners for breakfast. Large appetites fueled by cannabis were quelled with what he considered to be the best pancakes he’s ever tasted. Saccharine from the syrup giving him a needed rush as you whooshed him off to the next destination for the day. 
Serenity seeped into his bones as the masseuse worked all of the knots out of his back. Just a few feet away you also laid face down on a massage table, every kink rolled and flattened out. In the space between the table your fingers were intertwined, yours squeezing his just a little bit harder when the masseuse hit a particularly rough spot.
Celebrating another lap around the sun was always an occasion for indulgence. Another joint was shared, both of your consciousnesses melting like wax in your bodies as you whisked him away to the next activity. 
Empty canvases were soon filled with brilliant pastel hues as paintbrushes made calculated strokes. Geto always seemed to excel at most things, a picturesque sunset that looked like—no, probably looked even better than a postcard replacing the previously white surface. Yours looked more like a toddler having way too much fun using paint for the first time, but of course he paid you a compliment anyway. 
A quick lunch stop was followed by a limited rerelease of one of his favorite movies. He’s seen the movie hundreds of times by now, and even in the darkness of the movie theater you can still make out the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles at his favorite parts. It’s the boyish smile that you can never get enough of, the same one that makes your heart race and mind numb.
The day concluded with a free jazz concert in the park, sultry symphonies caressing your ears as you sat on a blanket in the grass cuddled up next to Geto. Yellow fairy lights adorned the tree as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, showering you with his gratitude for making sure he enjoyed every second of the day. 
Even as rain started to fall from the sky and shroud you both in a light layer of mist, he was still soaring high, enamored with every bit of effort you put into the day. Every nervous lip bite as you awaited his reaction to the next destination, the smile on your face when he kissed your lips and assured it was more than what he could have ever asked for made his heart swell. He even let out a laugh when you started pouting and apologizing at the shift in the weather, once again kissing away any of your worries.
As the Uber arrives at your shared apartment, he grabs both of your canvases and helps you out of the car. It’s a short walk to the door that you unlock, throwing your purse down on the kitchen island and leaving your shoes by the door. Feet relieved from the black platform boots you wore with a red, pleated miniskirt and long sleeved black cropped top, you let your body sink into the plush, velvet sofa in the living room. 
Geto follows your lead, taking off his shoes and sinking into the spot next to you. Finding more comfort in his body than the sofa you straddle him, pressing your chest against his. The soft contours of your body are always so malleable when in proximity to the defined ridges of his; warmth from his body always setting every one of your nerve endings ablaze. Just the simple movement of his hand brushing against your lower back is enough to make you writhe, a soft whimper escaping your lips. 
The melding of your bodies is akin to adjacent puzzle pieces, two parts that are meant to be together no matter the circumstances. One hand caresses the side of his face, fingertips dancing across porcelain skin while the other creeps beneath his shirt. His taut muscles ripple beneath your touch, heart starting to beat faster in his chest when you say, “You’re so beautiful, Suguru.”
“I love it when you say that.” It doesn’t matter how many compliments he receives from others when yours are the only ones that makes his cheeks flush. Only your words are capable of making him feel this coveted. “I’m so lucky to be yours.”
“So am I,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. Chalking up your connection to either luck or fate has always been a debate warring in your mind, but in times like this when you’re staring into his smoldering gaze, you guess it really doesn’t matter. Strong arms encapsulate you tenderly, providing the space to be vulnerable without the fear of judgment. An irreplaceable bond that you know you’ll never share with anyone else.
His palms trace up the back of your thighs, traveling higher and higher until he securely has a grasp on both of your cheeks. He loves it when you wear skirts, eyes and hands always greedy to graze and grope at your thighs. His mind is always shameless, wandering to more sensual planes even in the most docile of moments. Instinctively you rock against him, core grinding against the erection growing in his jeans, a breathy pant leaving your lips.
“Bet that feels good,” he murmurs against your lips, thrusting his hips upward in tandem with your grinding. The rocking of your hips only makes his cock strain more in his jeans, the growing bulge only aiding in stoking the flames of your arousal. He groans when your hips start to move faster than his own, giving your ass a harder squeeze. “Shit, feels so good for me too, baby.”
The only thing you can feel is Geto, a thickness against your clothed cunt that’s already drenched through your panties, aching to be filled. With a whine you press your lips against his, simultaneously removing your hand from beneath his shirt to undo the buckle on his belt. Kissing him is like being served your favorite meal over and over again; the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue never failing to be the most exquisite flavor. No variation is needed when the consistency he provides sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body that makes your back arch and toes curl. 
Hands move fast and lips move slow as your bodies chant a desperate plea to stay connected to each other. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip lasciviously as he gives your ass a hard squeeze, fingernails making soft crescent indents in your skin. It’s always a tantalizing kind of pain, one that only makes you moan and open your mouth to invite his tongue inside. Adjusting your heads so your lips are perfectly slotting against each other, your tongues collide as you manage to get the button of his jeans undone. 
The hand on his face moves to glide through his silky tresses as his tongue continues to caress yours. It’s give and take, letting your tongue push past his lips, sharing the combined taste of your desire. His eyes close as he revels in the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, scraping and pulling just the way he likes it. All the while your tongues still slide against each other, sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of ecstasy.
As desperate as you are to keep kissing him, to drown in the sea of euphoria that his lips provide, the need to have him stretch you out and fill you up takes precedence. His brow furrows when you abruptly pull your lips away, unsure if he suddenly did something wrong. While he thinks he might have squeezed just a bit too hard, the only problem is your own greed. Without words, you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. It’s muscle memory for his hands to reach out and touch your breasts, but your hands are already at the hem of his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. He easily complies, ridding himself of the material while you raise your hips to shimmy off your skirt and push the waistband of his boxer briefs down.
“Fuck,” he hisses when his cock slaps against his stomach, pearls of precome steadily leaking from the angry, red tip. He throws his head back momentarily, but snaps his attention forward when you grip him at the base. He can’t help but throb in your hand, and you swear he grows just a little bit harder when you squeeze his thick length firmly. He sucks in a breath as your hand begins to stroke him, thumb running over the slit and smearing his precome down the length of his shaft. A hot trail of spit drips from your mouth and onto his cock to ease any friction, providing a smooth motion for your hand to continue working him.
“You’re so big, Sugu,” you coo, and he throbs in your hand again. His back sinks further into the sofa as you continue stroking him, only sounds filling the room are his soft pants and the slick of your hand moving up and down his cock. Another part of him that you’ll never get tired of. Every time his cock twitches in your grasp you can feel your own heat pulsing, and you know there’s only one solution. 
Pushing the crotch of your panties aside, you rest one hand on his shoulder for balance as you line your entrance up with his cock. “Easy, baby,” he advises, moving one hand from your ass to hold his cock steady for you as you sink onto his inches. It’s a tearing sensation every time he enters you, a pressure that always makes you whine as you sink your head into the crook of his neck.
“Always so tight for me,” he hisses as his cocks sinks deeper into your heat, stretching out your walls in the most delicious way. Your hands wrap around his neck, breaths become shallow as you adjust to his girth inside of you. His hand returns to your cheek once he’s fully seated inside you, tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck, your pussy was just made for me, you know that?” he breathes, cock already pulsating inside you. “Perfect fucking pussy, and it’s all mine.”
Despite the trembling of your legs, your breathing returns to normal as your hips roll forward. Your tongue darts out, licking a lewd stripe against his neck, the salty and sweet taste of his skin on your tongue further fueling the motion of your hips. His eyes fall closed as he relishes in your tight warmth hugging his cock, the softness of your skin in the palm of his hands. 
“F-fuck.” No stranger to his cock despite the initial shock of him stretching you out each time, your hips develop a steady rhythm, rolling against his pelvis like lazy tides crashing over the shore. Your clit grazes against his abdomen which he flexes with each forward moment. It makes you whine each time, but he doesn’t do anymore than that, letting you set the pace, using his cock as you please because no matter what you do it’ll always feel so fucking good.
Without ceasing your movements, you remove your head from his neck to plant another kiss on his lips. He returns it, sinking his teeth into your bottom lips to match the pressure of his nails sinking into the flesh on your ass.
“Need you to do something for me,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire against your lips as he flexes his abs again.
“What’s that?” you ask with another roll of your hips.
He grabs one of your wrists, moving it from behind his neck to place your hand around the thick column of his neck. Shock paints your face, and all he does is flash you a crooked smile. This is… new.
“Go on,” he insists. “Squeeze.”
“O–Okay.” Hesitantly you do as he asks, giving his neck a squeeze. He looks entirely unimpressed.
“Baby,” he gently warns. “Stop playing with me.”
Hoping the second time will be the charm, you squeeze again. This still isn’t enough to satisfy him. The third time doesn’t seem to be the charm either, despite what everyone seems to believe. He only tsks and shakes his head.
“What am I supp—”
The rest of your sentence vanishes from existence when a strong hand encircles your throat, squeezing with a practiced pressure that gives you more of a head high than the joint you shared with him earlier. It’s nothing more than a reflex when your cunt clenches around his cock, a muffled mewl leaving your lips with the limited air supply he’s left you with. 
“You see that?” He directs your gaze down to his lap, in the space where the two of you are connected. The view only makes your walls constrict around him as you whine. It’s a lewd sight, your cunt swallowing his cock whole with traces of your arousal slicking his pelvis. He clenches his teeth and lets out a low groan as he takes in the view himself, letting his thumb slowly circle your clit. “Feel how hard your little pussy is squeezing my cock?” He lazily thrusts his hips upward, making you clamp around him again. “Feel how you’re just sucking me in?”
It’s dizzying, the pressure between your thighs and the one on your clit keeping any real words at bay. All you can do is nod pathetically as he continues his ministrations.
“Good girl.” His grip around your throat loosens, but he doesn't let up on your clit, continuing to trace circles on the bundle of nerves. “That’s how hard I need you to choke me, baby. Now do it right this time before I get mad.”
He releases his grip from your throat completely and throws his head back, an open invitation for your hands.
With more conviction in your actions, your hand circles his throat again and gives a much harder squeeze. His Adam’s apple bobs, a twisted smile slowly spreading across his face as you squeeze again, cock throbbing inside you.
“Haa–ngh,” he moans, a delirious head high taking over. “Just like that baby,” he praises as you apply pressure again, heeding his instructions perfectly. “ Fuck , you’re amazing, so amazing.”
His hands find their resting place on your ass again as he continues to contract his abdomen against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head while your hands take on their new role of becoming his favorite necklace.
His pulse races rapidly against your hands as they stay tightly wrapped around his throat, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen his face painted with such bliss. Head thrown back, locks falling behind him as you continue riding him, chasing your orgasm at the same time his is approaching.
He doesn’t know why he hasn’t asked you to do this before, but there isn’t a chance he can go without this feeling now. He plants his feet on the floor, thrusting into your heat with dire need, hitting your sweet spot with each upward movement. “S-Sugu,” you moan, legs becoming more useless each time his perfectly curved cock stimulates that spongy spot inside you. Even with failing legs and his cock seemingly trying to drill into your brain until he's the only thing you can coherently think about, your hands continue squeezing his neck. 
Harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the room with each wicked surge of his hips. The pace is no longer up to you as he groans, hands gripping your ass tightly with the same ferocity you have on his neck. “S-Shit. ” He can normally hold it, draw out a session for much longer but gosh, he never expected to be in such a frenzy from such a simple request. “Fuck, baby. Keep squeezing, that’s so good,” he babbles. “Fuck, gonna come so hard in your little pussy, gonna fill her right up.”
“Please,” you whine, clamping down around his cock at his words. This is what he wants, right? You layer your free hand over the one currently on his neck, and the added pressure is enough to make his vision blurry.
It’s absolutely a mouth watering sensation. He can’t help the laugh of joy that escapes him with the little bit of breath that he has, continuing to pound into your heat, drilling against that one spot until your legs are shaking and the only thing you’re able to moan out is his name.
“O-Oh my god, Sugu, ” you cry out, grip around his neck loosening, orgasm like a shaken up soda bottle threatening to burst open at any second.
“Keep squeezing for me, baby,” he grits out, his own impending orgasm only seconds away from rising to the surface. “Gonna come together, just keep squeezing, I’m almost there.”
Tears springing from the corner of your eyes, you nod, arms shaking as you use the last bit of strength in them to give a final, hard squeeze.
Geto explodes, a hot load of his cum decorating your insides as your cunt spasms around him, milking him for everything he’s worth. He hisses, rope after rope spurting inside you making you shiver.
“Hah– fuck,” he chuckles after a few moments of comfortable silence, cock still lodged inside you as your forehead presses against his. One of his hands caresses the sides of your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you, baby.” The words are laced with the utmost care and affection as he presses another chaste kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?” you ask, squirming in his lap as his cum begins to leak out of you, pooling around his pelvis.
“For just being you,” he answers, his other hand landing on the opposite side of your face. “And for making this one of the best birthdays ever.”
“Even though I didn’t choke you hard enough the first time?” you joke.
“You have all the time in the world to get it right,” he jokes back, but in reality, he doesn’t care.
There really is no wrong when it comes to you. And as the clock moves into the hour of the new day and you settle against his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing replacing previous pants and moans, he knows with certainty there’s no one else he wants to take another lap around the sun with.
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