#Thank You' chocolate gift box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugugasm · 3 months

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☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

#🎀 — www.satorubiwrites/games !#AHHHHH WE HERE #papa toji i luv him #toji x fem! reader #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji smut #jjk x fem! reader #jjk x poc!reader

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multi-fandom-imagine · 7 months

Note

Valentines day blurbs?

How about Y/N giving Lucifer a homemade duck plush holding a heart for valentines day? He'd probably love it!!

FUCK YOU LILITH, YOU TWO-TIMING BITCH!!!

A/n: I'm dead 😂, also adorable prompt.

Wetting your lips, you smiled to yourself fixing up the duck plush that you had sewn for Lucifer. It was your first Valentine's Day together and you wanted it to be special. Attaching the little heart, you hummed with satisfaction.

"Perfect."

Grabbing the plush duck, you made your way to where Lucifer was waiting for you. Your jaw dropping once you entered the room. It was all decked out, various ballon's encompassing the room. Various flowers in vases, rose petals on the ground. Your gaze finally falling to the man holding a box of chocolates in his arms with your favorite anima in plush form.

"W-what's all this?"

Giving you a sheepish smile, Lucifer let out s nervous laugh. "You deserve this and more...thank you for choosing me."

Shaking your head, you did your best to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Lucifer." He was to sweet, your heart was racing as you then shoved the duck in his face. "I MADE THIS FOR YOU."

Eye's going wide, Lucifer placed the gifts for you down onto a small table as he carefully took the plush duck from you. "You made this?" His lips quivered for a moment and before you had the chance to respond Lucifer pulled you into his arms, the duck squished between you to as he kissed you deeply.

Breaking the kiss, he then nuzzled his head against your own. A light giggle escaping your lips as he clung to you. "You're so wonderful, happy Valentine's day beautiful."

Placing your hand on Lucifer's cheek, it was cute seeing his smile face. "Happy Valentine's Day Lucifer."

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #valentines day

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luveline · 1 year

Note

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket.

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god."

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself."

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you.

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal.

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour.

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's.

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse.

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile.

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents."

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers."

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card."

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille.

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking."

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing.

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious.

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically.

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour.

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that."

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start."

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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pucksandpower · 6 months

Text

Just a Taste

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you quickly learn that there’s more to the chocolates you devoured than meets the eye

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (thanks to aphrodisiac chocolates)

You knock on Max’s front door, balancing a tray with four large lattes in your arms. “Max!” You call out, “It’s me!”

No response. You frown, knowing he’s usually back from his morning run by now. Shifting the drinks to one arm, you pull out your key and let yourself in.

“Max?” You call out again as you kick the door closed behind you. Still no answer.

You make your way to the kitchen and put the coffees down on the counter. Every Sunday morning you and Max have brunch together, a tradition you’ve kept up for years, ever since you became friends as kids.

As you take a sip of frothy caffeine, your stomach rumbles loudly. You glance at the clock — you’re a bit early today, so Max probably hasn’t returned yet.

Looking around, you spot a pink box on the counter that you don’t recognize. Curious, you open it up to find a dozen chocolates inside. A small note card reads:

For when you finally meet someone special - Lando

You chuckle to yourself, trust Lando to tease Max about being perpetually single. Popping one of the chocolates in your mouth, you savor the rich sweetness that melts on your tongue. Before you know it, you’ve eaten three more. They’re just so good! Max won’t mind if you have a few, right?

You’re nibbling on a fifth chocolate when warmth blooms through your body. You feel … tingly all over. And is it just you or did the room get brighter? You blink a few times then shake your head, trying to clear the sudden haze that’s settled over your mind.

Just then, the front door opens and Max calls out, “Y/N? You here already?”

“In the kitchen!” You reply, your voice coming out breathier than normal. You feel hot and flushed now, your skin ultra sensitive. What was in those chocolates?

Max enters the kitchen and stops short when he sees you leaning against the counter, breathing heavily. “Whoa, are you okay?” His brow furrows in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You stare at him, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought beyond how good he looks right now, sweaty from his run in just a compression top and shorts. You’ve always thought Max was cute of course, but now an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him overtakes you.

“Y/N?” Max prompts again, stepping closer and seeing the open box of chocolates beside you. “Did you … oh no. You ate from the pink box, didn’t you?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Max runs a hand through his hair. “Those were from Lando, they’re infused with … let’s just say they have special effects. I told him it was a stupid gift idea.”

He moves towards you but you back away quickly. “D-don’t,” you stammer out, worried what might happen if he gets too close right now.

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “It’s alright, just try to stay calm. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

He gently grasps your arm and leads you to the living room couch. You sink down onto the soft cushions, resting your head against the back and closing your eyes. Your skin is on fire, you shift restlessly as desire coils hotly inside you.

Max sits down on the other end of the sofa. “This will pass, just ride it out,” he says soothingly.

You crack open your eyes to look at him. His face is etched with concern and something else you can’t quite place. “Max,” you breathe out his name like a plea.

He swallows hard. You’ve never wanted someone as much as you want Max in this moment. Scooting closer to him, you reach out a hand to touch his cheek.

Max inhales sharply at your contact but doesn’t pull away. His eyes search yours questioningly.

“Please Max, I need you,” the words fall desperately from your lips before you can stop them.

Max’s eyes widen in surprise before darkening with unmistakable desire. He’s silent for a long moment, emotions playing across his face as he struggles with indecision. You hold your breath, heart hammering in your chest.

Finally Max moves, shifting forward to close the small gap between you. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek tenderly as his eyes lock with yours.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly.

You answer by surging forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Max responds immediately, mouth moving urgently against yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his strong chest.

You sigh into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. His lips are even softer than you imagined. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and Max parts them with a low groan.

As the kiss deepens, your desperation mounts. You need more, need to be closer. Straddling his lap, you rock your hips against his, feeling his growing arousal.

Max breaks the kiss with a gasp. “We should stop, the effects will wear off soon,” he protests weakly.

“Don’t want to stop,” you murmur, trailing kisses down his neck. You nip at his pulse point and Max lets out a strangled moan, resolve clearly wavering.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you continue to move against him. “We shouldn’t, not like this,” he tries again, but you silence him with another heated kiss.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “Max, I want this. I want you. Not just because of the chocolates. I’ve always wanted you.”

Max’s eyes widen at your confession, before a vulnerable smile spreads across his face. “I’ve wanted you too, for so long,” he admits softly.

Cupping your face in both hands, he kisses you tenderly. When you eventually break apart, foreheads resting together, Max asks “Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You smile and take his hand, rising from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you tell him sincerely. “Now take me to bed.”

His eyes darken and he laces his fingers through yours. “Gladly,” he murmurs, before leading you towards his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you.

As soon as the door clicks closed, Max presses you up against it, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roam your body eagerly as your own fumble to push his shirt up and off him.

Breaking the kiss, Max trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You gasp and arch into him, nails raking down his bare back.

Needing more, you reach for the hem of your own shirt but Max stops you.

“Let me,” he says huskily, grasping the fabric and lifting it up tantalizingly slowly to reveal your skin inch by inch. He pulls the shirt over your head and tosses it aside before returning his heated gaze to you.

Reaching behind you, Max deftly unhooks your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders to the floor. He hovers over you, grey eyes burning with desire as they rake over your newly exposed skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently before ducking his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest.

Leaning in, he kisses down between your breasts before capturing a nipple in his mouth. You cry out, hands coming up to grip his hair tightly. He lavishes attention on your breasts until you are squirming against him desperately.

Sensing your need, Max scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently against the rumpled sheets before settling over you, the hard planes of his body pressing deliciously against your own softer ones.

You kiss feverishly as you fumble with the drawstring of his shorts, shoving them down impatiently. Max kicks them off before reaching for the button of your jeans. Soon the last barriers between you are gone.

Max trails heated open-mouthed kisses down your stomach until he reaches the apex of your thighs. He looks up at you questioningly and you nod eagerly. You arch up into his touch, gasping and tangling your hands in his hair.

“Please Max,” you beg desperately, needing more.

At the first touch of his mouth on your most intimate area, you cry out his name, hands twisting into the sheets. He takes his time exploring you with his lips and tongue until you are writhing and gasping beneath him.

When you feel yourself teetering on the edge, you breathlessly beg Max to be inside you. Needing no further encouragement, he moves back up your body, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pauses, meeting your gaze. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says huskily before finally joining your bodies in one smooth motion. You both moan at the feeling of completion.

Max sets a steady rhythm, angling his hips until he finds the spot that makes you see stars. You feel the pressure building rapidly within you. Sensing you’re close, Max increases his pace. His thumb rubs tight circles over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you shatter around him with a cry. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck and groaning your name as he finds his own release.

You cling to each other as you come down, trading soft kisses and whispers of affection. Eventually Max rolls off of you, gathering you close against his chest.

“That was incredible,” Max murmurs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You are incredible.”

You smile up at him adoringly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He grins and squeezes you tight. You drift off curled safely in the arms of the man you’ve always loved, happier than you’ve ever been.

***

The next morning, you wake up to find your legs tangled with the man beside you. Last night had been incredible, even better than your wildest fantasies.

You feel Max begin to stir. Turning in his arms to face him, you meet his sleepy gaze.

“Morning,” Max smiles at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His expression turns serious. “How are you feeling?”

You know he’s asking about more than just the effects of the chocolates. You lift a hand to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“I’ve never been happier,” you tell him honestly.

Max’s face breaks into a radiant grin. He kisses you softly before pulling you tightly against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way,” Max whispers into your hair. “I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for so long but I didn’t want to risk our friendship if you didn’t feel the same.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” you say, leaning in to kiss him languidly.

When you eventually break apart, Max smirks at you. “Remind me to send Lando a thank you card.”

You laugh and snuggle back into his embrace, making a mental note to pick up another box of those chocolates. Just in case.

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violetarks · 7 months

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third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #my hero acaedmia x reader #mha #mha x reader

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vivandachocolate · 11 months

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#diwali chocolate gifts for employees #buy premium chocolates online #customized chocolate gifts online #personalized wedding chocolate gift box #personalised corporate chocolate gift box #personalized birth announcement chocolate boxes #thank you chocolate gift box #buy chocolate gift boxes online #buy luxury chocolates online #customized chocolate gift box

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wandaslittlebird · 13 days

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That’s What Mama’s Do

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

An early Christmas gift from Wanda encourages you to indulge your curiosities, and Wanda learns she can be a bit rougher with you than she originally thought.

CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, guilt, sexual exploration, flashbacks, anal (R receiving), spitting, strap ons (R receiving), spanking, inexperienced reader, mentions of videos taken during sex, dirty talk

Word Count: ~4.7k

A/N: It’s back and I’m so excited! I’ve extended this series to be at least 6 parts now, so get pumped everyone. I just kept having more and more ideas.

A/N: So definitely not 48 hours but like kinda close?? I was struggling with this part and I still think it might have worked better as a drabble, but I think it works anyway. This part isn’t nearly as Freudian, but there’s more of that to come in future parts! I hope you all still enjoy!

Thank you @marvelwomenarehot0 for reading this like 5 times and reassuring me I’m FINE

Part 3 of Her Special Girl

The days were filled with peppermint hot chocolate, soft blankets, Christmas movies by the fireplace, and lots and lots of cuddles. You and Wanda were practically velcroed to one another, completely inseparable. The two of you preferred to stay mostly at the house together, seeing as you couldn’t be nearly as affectionate when there were other people around in public.

What had started as an unpleasant fluke in your Christmas break, had turned out to be the best Christmas present you could ever ask for.

One this particular afternoon, you and Wanda were dancing together to Christmas music in the living room. She had you pulled close to her chest, gently swaying you back and forth to the jovial holiday music. But louder than both the music and her heartbeat, one thought came blaring through your mind.

How could you ever leave this? How could you leave her, alone? How could you ever be so selfish?

You leaned back so you could see her face. “Mama?” You interjected. Your eyes searched her’s, looking for a way to ease the guilt in your heart.

“Yes, little love?” She smiled down at you with a heart full of love and admiration. If she was holding resentment against you for leaving, she was doing a very good job of hiding it.

You swallowed nervously. “Could I give you one of your Christmas presents?” You asked. You hoped experiencing her joy upon receiving your gift would quell the aching guilt. “I have more to give you on Christmas. I just wanted to give you a special one while it’s still just the two of us.”

Her smile widened. “Of course, sweet girl. How about we do a special little gift exchange with just us. You know how hectic it gets on Christmas Day.” She bent forward and whispered into your ear. “Plus, I have a present for you that no one else is allowed to see.”

Your heartbeat quickened. She chuckled as she watched a blush rise to your cheeks. She smirked, drawing a medium sized box out from behind the tree. You followed suit, picking out a small box placed carefully on top of the pile of presents. You’d taken extra special care to wrap it nicely for her. You’d been excited about giving her this gift for a while now.

“You first,” you insisted, setting her gift down on the couch after she handed it to you.

You handed her the box, chewing your lip nervously. She unwrapped it meticulously, slowly pulling away the tape without ripping the paper.

Inside was a rectangular jewelry box, off white with a golden W.M. pressed into the center. She opened the lid and gasped as she revealed a gold chain necklace with three stones pressed into the center. The biggest one, in the middle was your birthstone, and on either size shone two aquamarines, the twins’ birthstone.

“Honey this is beautiful,” she said, pulling the necklace from the box. “But this must’ve cost you a fortune.”

You shook your head. “Not a fortune. I promise it wasn’t exorbitant. The gold was a gift from dad from a couple years ago, but…”

“You only wear silver,” Wanda finished for you. She chuckled at the general cluelessness of her husband, thinking he could just buy the most expensive thing on the shelf and you’d love it.

You nodded, smiling a little at the thought that Wanda remembered such a detail. You gently took the necklace from Wanda’s hands, clipping it around the back of her neck while she held up her hair.

“It’s perfect, darling,” she said, putting her hand affectionately over the stones. “Thank you, so much.” It sat perfectly on her neck, level with her collarbones. It looked beautiful on her.

You picked up your own present from where you’d set it on the couch. It was a bigger box than the one you’d given her, but it was light. You didn’t take the same care as she did with the wrapping paper, simply picking a corner and tearing off the paper. You unwrapped and opened the box to reveal a harness. It was very similar to the one you already had, except, instead of one O-ring at the base, there were two.

You tilted your head in confusion, examining the object. Wanda watched you nervously, slightly afraid the gift was unwanted.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you know what it is?”

“It’s a harness,” you answered. “But it has two rings for two…” the realization dawned on you as you spoke the words allowed. You stood in shock for a moment.

Wanda’s heart sank, thinking she’d gone too far. “It… it’s okay if you don’t wanna use it. There’s no pressure to try anything, of course. I just thought… you used to really enjoy…” she rambled.

You cut her off, still too caught up in your own thoughts to be paying attention to her nervous rambling. “Can we use it now?” You blurted out, excitedly.

She smiled. “Of course, little love. I thought you might like it. I remember you being rather fond of… playing like this.”

—————

You were standing in the doorframe of her home office, anxiously playing with your own fingers.

Wanda had been furiously typing away at her desk. The sound of keys clacking filled the silent room. Her face was focused, emotionlessly concentrated on the task in front of her.

You stood there awkwardly, trying to build up the courage to ask her your question. You certainly didn’t want to interrupt. You didn’t even like to interrupt her work when you weren’t about to ask embarrassing questions.

She was never upset with you, for interrupting her work. “Nothing that comes across my desk is more important to me than even your silliest queries,” she had told you. “Anytime I get to be talking to you, my work day has improved tenfold.”

Still, you stood in the doorway a little longer, hoping she would manage to notice you first.

After a few grueling minutes of going unnoticed, you finally decided to speak up.

“Mama?” You asked quietly.

Her face of pure concentration broke out into a wide smile. “Yes, my little love?” She responded, beckoning you into the room.

You exhaled in relief. She wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, at least. Now it was just a matter of trying to ask the question that brought you here in the first place. “I-I have a question,” you announced anxiously, cautiously approaching her desk.

“Ask away,” she instructed, leaning back in her car and swiveling it to face you. You had her full attention.

You looked down at the hardwood floor, unable to meet her gaze. Maybe this would actually be easier if she was still focused on work and you were simply in the background. “I… it’s embarrassing.”

Her face tilted, morphing into one of soft sympathy. “It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s just you and mama here. You can tell me anything.” She reached her arms out, beckoning you closer so she could gently pull you into her lap. She sat you down and wrapped her arms around your waist, kissing you on the temple.

If she were anyone else, you wouldn't dream of asking her what you were about to ask. You lived in a world where questions, especially ones that may be considered taboo, were discouraged. Your curiosities had always been diminished and shut down, even since you were a child. And yet, Wanda was different. “You’re still growing up and learning about the world,” she’d once said. “It’s an honor to get to teach you about all the things you want to know. That’s what mama’s do, after all.”

You steeled yourself. “I… um… do you know how sometimes when we… play together you put toys inside of me and it feels really good?” You asked, trying to frame your question.

“Mhm,” she hummed affirmatively, trying to hide her growing excitement. She loved how flustered and embarrassed you got when you asked her questions about sex. It was almost as arousing as the “hands on” learning experiences themselves.

“I was wondering if… maybe you’d ever had toys in… the other hole,” you asked, looking down at your lap.

“Mmm,” she hummed again. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Were you really asking her what she thought you were asking her? God, you were more perfect that’s she could’ve imagined.

She kept calm, trying to contain her excitement. “I have. Mama doesn’t like to have things in her ass so much, but,” Her tone dropped lower and more sultry. She leaned over so close you could feel her breath on your ear. “I would love nothing more than if you’d let me play with yours.”

“R-really?” You stuttered. “You don’t think it’s… gross?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, sweetheart,” she assured. “It’s just another part of your body, little love. I don’t think any part of you is gross.”

“O-okay,” you said, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She pulled you tighter into her side, squeezing you in her arms and kissing your head repeatedly. “I love you so much,” she praised. “I’m so proud of you for being such a brave girl, and asking mama all your curious little questions about your body.”

“I love you too, mama,” you responded. You curled up in her lap, burying your red face in her neck.

“How about I forward all my calls to Natasha for this afternoon, and mama can show you all her toys and we can pick out some for you to experiment with, huh?” She whispered into your ear, voiced laced with excitement and seduction.

Your eyes went wide, and you nodded. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had dropped everything to fuck you, but you were shocked that seemed to be equally as excited about this as you were.

She led you to her closet, letting you peruse her collection. For someone who didn’t like to use them, she had a lot of butt plugs. She explained in depth their uses, the sensations of the different shapes and materials, and helped you make an educated choice of which one you’d like best. In the end, you both decided to start with a small metal plug, as well as a smallish strap. When you asked if she’d be pegging you with it, she chuckled.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet, little love,” she explained. “We’ll just use the strap like normal, but you’ll have the plug in this time. Does that sound good?”

You nodded. You were a little confused as to why she chose such a small strap if it wasn’t going in your ass anyway, but you trusted her judgment.

“One more thing,” she said, grabbing your favorite toy, the wand, before turning off the lights and leaving the closet. As always she took you to your own room rather than leading you back to her own. You both preferred to keep the sex out of the bed that her and your father shared.

She had you lean over the edge of your bed while she plugged the wand into the outlet. She handed it to you. “Alright love, I want you to make yourself feel good, okay? Can you do that for mama? Can you touch yourself while mama plays with your ass?”

“Mhm,” you hummed affirmatively, taking the wand between your legs and turning it on. You immediately shivered at the sensation.

She ran her nails softly up your back. “That’s it, good girl. Now just relax for mama.”

Her fingers moved down to circle your exposed asshole, watching the muscle tense in anticipation. You jumped at the unprecedented feeling.

“Shshsh,” she cooed. “Relax baby. You’re okay. Mama’s gonna take care of you. I’m just going to put a little lube on you, okay? It’s gonna be a little cold.”

You shivered again as you felt the cool liquid run down your untouched ass. She pressed her finger against your hole, gathering the liquid there before slowly starting to push into you. To her surprise, her first finger slid in rather easily.

You groaned at the sensation, muffled by the mattress. “Are you sure you’ve never had anything in here?” Wanda asked, suspicious but not judgmental. “It’s okay if you have, baby. You can tell mama. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

You whined into the mattress. “I-I… in the shower sometimes, I… explore a little bit.”

Wanda smiled, chuckling affectionately as she rubbed your back, slowly moving her finger in and out of your tight hole. “That’s okay, honey. You’re always allowed to explore your own body. Do you just play with your fingers? How many have you had?”

You nodded. “Just my fingers. And only ever one. I-I tried to do two, but… I couldn’t.”

She nodded, circling her finger around inside of you to get you comfortable. “Mama’s gonna try to add another finger now. Is that okay?”

You nodded. “Is… is it gonna hurt?”

She shook her head. “No baby, it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts just tell mama and we’ll stop, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Good girl. Now, just try your best to relax. Take a few deep breaths.” You felt a second finger at your entrance, slowly pushing past your muscles. You squirmed, at the uncomfortable sensation, but Wanda’s hand on your lower back kept you still.

“Good girl,” she praised as her two fingers fully pushed into you. “That’s a big stretch isn’t it?”

You whined. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was an intense, unfamiliar pressure. You turned up the setting on the vibrator between your legs, keeping the discomfort at bay.

She spread her fingers out inside of you, stretching the muscles further. You moaned, the discomfort morphing into something more pleasant. The pleasure, oddly, didn’t override the discomfort, but rather existed beside it. “Mama…” you moaned, starting to slowly buck your hips back into her hand. “Feels… funny.”

“I bet it does feel funny, doesn’t it?” She said. “Do you like it? You wanna switch over to mama’s plug?” Typically, she would’ve insisted on taking things a bit slower, but, likely due to your own ‘self-exploration’, you were handling it a lot better than she’d expected.

You nodded. “Yes please.”

She slowly pulled her fingers out, watching your muscles tighten back up and close. She fantasized, for a moment, about opening you back up so she could spit inside of you, watching your muscles close as little bits of her saliva leaked out. But she’d save that thought for later. You were far from ready for that.

She took the metal plug and poured a bit more lube onto the end. The plug was a bit bigger than both of her fingers, but not terribly so. She pushed the cool metal against your asshole.

You jumped and whined at the sensation. She shushed you, putting a firm hand on your lower back to keep you in place. “Just relax honey, just like before. Keep playing with yourself.”

You did as instructed, taking a deep breath and focusing on the sensation in your clit. On your exhale, she started to push the plug in. She carefully pushed through the resistance forcing the plug into place.

“Mama!” You cried out. A range of sensation shot through your body all at once. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, pressure all came to a head in a sudden orgasm you hadn’t expected.

Wanda eyes went wide, seemingly taken as off guard as you were. She smiled and rubbed your back affectionately. “Aww,” she cooed, “did my sweet girl just cum just from mama’s plug in her ass. It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good.”

“I’m sorry, mama,” you apologized. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you. Unlike your usual orgasms, this one only made you hungrier for more. You turned up the setting on the wand again.

“It’s quite alright, darling,” she assured. “Do you still want mama to fuck you while you have the plug in? It might feel a little different than it ever has before.”

You nodded eagerly. “Please mama!”

“Okay, sweetheart,” she chuckled affectionately, surprised and amused by your eagerness. She lined herself up with your pussy, pulling your hips back to meet her own.

You cried out, suddenly acutely aware of why she’d chosen such a small strap. With the plug in your ass, your pussy felt so much fuller than you would’ve expected. Your hands shot out in front of you, gripping the bed sheets for dear life.

Wanda made her first few strokes slow, watching as the base of the plug shifted with her movements.

“Mama!” You cried again. “Feels so… so full mama. Please!”

“Does it feel good baby?” She asked, rocking into faster. “Do you like having mama in both your holes? Do you like it when she fucks you with a pretty plug in your ass?”

“Yes mama!” You breathed. “It hurts, just a little, but it feels so good mama.”

“Aww does it make your ass feel too full baby?” She cooed. “That’s okay, honey. You can cry while mama fills your holes. That’s it. Cry for mama baby.”

In an almost Pavlovian response, you started to cry. The pain was bearable, even surprisingly pleasant, but Wanda’s command allowed your body permission to let the tears flow. You were glad your admission of pain didn’t seem to deter her, even when it was paired with tears. In fact, the sound of your cries only seemed to spur her on further, nearly pulling out of you and pounding back into you with every stroke.

“Mama I’m gonna cum again,” you sobbed.

Wanda ignored you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You came harder this time, having to turn off the wand between your legs to keep yourself from overstimulating.

You tried to squirm away from Wanda, but she grabbed your hips harder and kept you in place. “No baby. Keep crying for mama. Keep making those pretty noises. I’m so close.”

You felt her hips start to falter before she pushed herself as deep into you as possible. She groaned, near collapsing on top of you before catching herself on the bed.

“That was so perfect, angel,” she soothed, pulling out of you while she gently ran her fingers through your hair. You whined at the sensation, lying limp on the bed. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and in some jammies, and then you can sit under mama’s desk while she finishes working. Does that sound good, little love?”

You nodded, groaning as she pulled out the plug and set it on the nightstand to be cleaned. Your head spun. All you could think of was your mama. You were so lucky to have someone who cared for you so deeply. You were so thankful you had her to guide you, to indulge all your curiosities. “Thank you, mama,” you mumbled tiredly.

“For what, sweetheart?” She asked, playing with your hair and looking down at your blissful face.

“For being here to teach me new things,” you tried to explain. Your head was so floaty you couldn’t get your words quite right. “And… and trying new things with me. And not thinking I’m gross or weird when I get curious about… certain things.”

“Of course, angel,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”

—————

Wanda stood next to the bed, this time in her own room: the room she shared with your father. With him gone all week, her previous rules about keeping sex with you out of their shared space had gone as well. Unlike when you were young, it didn’t bother you much anymore. After all, you hadn’t seen him in years. In many ways, he wasn’t so real to you anymore.

So you held no discomfort about your current position, naked on your hands and knees in the middle of their bed.

Wanda was almost equally as naked, wearing nothing but the harness and the necklace you’d just given her. She was working on preparing and securing the toys you two had picked out in the appropriate O-rings. It she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful and you weren’t so goddamn turned on, she might have looked ridiculous.

But you suppose that was part of the gig with sex in general. It’s a little ridiculous, and, actually, mostly rather unsexy. But something about love and arousal morphs your perspective just enough to change everything: to make it a magical experience.

You’d chosen a smaller, blue dildo on the top. It was only about 6 inches long and less than an inch in diameter. On the bottom, you chose the first strap she’d ever fucked you with. It seemed fitting that the first time she’d use the strap on you in three years, she’d use the same one she’d used for your first time ever.

You felt the bed dip and she crawled onto the mattress behind you. She ran her nails down your back. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” She asked in a low sultry tone. She ran a finger up your slit. You’d been practically dripping since you’d opened her gift.

You shivered at her touch, instinctively buckling your hips back against her hand. “Please mama,” you whined. You were already so needy for her.

She wanted to hold out for a little longer, circle you while she toyed with your perfectly displayed body. But one look at your ass had her impatient. She needed to be inside of you, urgently. She lined the bottom toy up with your pussy, slowly pushing into. You were all too inviting, practically swallowing her. She was met with little resistance even in the first couple strokes. Then she pressed the top toy into your ass.

Instinctively, you tensed. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Relax for mama. I’ve got you.” She rubbed gently at your lower back.

You relax, allowing her to push the toy into you. You whined as she pushed past the initial ring of muscles.

“Mama’s got you,” she reassured. “I’ll go nice and slow.”

The overwhelming full sensation immediately made your arms collapse, pushing you face down into the mattress. It was so much different than having her fuck you while you wore a plug. Rather than a static thing shifting inside of you, there were two things, moving simultaneously in rhythm with one another.

The stretch was overwhelming. You could feel both of the toys from both holes as they each pushed you open. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open. She’d hardly been in you for a minute and you were already losing your mind. “Mama… mama please,” you pleaded.

She leaned over to wipe the hair from your face. “What is it baby? Tell mama what you need,” she said, concerned. It had been a while since she’d fuck you. Maybe this was too much for your first time back. “Do you need mama to stop? I can take the blue one off and we can just use the pink toy,” she suggested anxiously.

You gripped the sheets under your hands, jaw slack and mouth opened. Once again, her anxious rambling fell on deaf ears as your mind was consumed with pleasure. “Faster,” you said unexpectedly. “Please, mama, go faster.”

Her eyes went wide at the unexpected request, but she hesitantly started to build to a moderate pace. She gripped your hips, pulling them to meet hers with each thrust.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” she praised. The sound of your skin hitting hers alone was driving Wanda crazy. She took a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. But when your weak little voice cried out from underneath her, she lost all semblance of control.

“Mama, please, harder.”

She tilted her head, giving herself a moment to process what you were saying.

She remembered you at 18, meek and trembling under her. She recalled the way you stuttered when you asked her even the simplest questions about sex. You were so ashamed and afraid to ask anything of her back then. It would’ve taken you weeks to muster even a simple request.

And here you were, years later, underneath her once again, shamelessly begging for her to fuck you harder. She couldn’t be more proud.

She slammed her hips into yours, gripping you hard enough to leave marks. “Did you miss mama fucking you like this? Did you miss her toys filling you up until you couldn’t think anymore?”

You nodded. “Yes mama!”

“You’re taking me so well, little love,” she praised. Her eyes darkened as she watched the strap disappear into you again and again. She was fixated with the sight. “Mama’s gonna have to get the camera out so you can see what a little angel you look like from up here, taking my straps all the way to the hilt. Would you like that baby? Would you like to watch yourself get fucked by mama?”

You nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed, biting your bottom lip. Her words took you slightly off guard, but that didn’t stop them from further turning you on. It seemed your boldness was rubbing off on Wanda.

“Mama could record you a little video and then you could watch it while you touch yourself later, huh? See what a good little girl you are for me.”

You moaned, nearly screaming into the wadded up sheets. “M-mama…” you stammered. The way she spoke, telling you her fantasies so unabashedly, made your head spin. You supposed this was as good a time as any to bring a fantasy of your own into fruition. “S-spank me. Please. Spank my ass.”

Wanda’s eyes darkened with lust at the request. She placed a cautious spank on your right ass cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt. It was more just for the sensation.

“Harder,” you requested timidly. “Please, h-hurt me.”

Wanda slapped your other side, harder this time. You cried out, involuntarily clenching around the toys. She spanked you again and again, becoming obsessed with the sensation of you tightening around her. “You like it when mama hurts you?” She asked. Her voice was deeper than usual.

You nodded. You sniffled back tears, desperate not to cry. You were so afraid she’d stop or ease up, thinking she’d hurt you.

“Are you gonna cry for mama?” She asked, picking up on your stifled sniffling. “Go on and cry for me, love. You know mama loves to watch you cry.”

The floodgates opened as you started to sob underneath her, nearly shaking. “Feels so good, mama. I love being stretched with your toys. I love when you hurt me. I love you. I love you.”

Wanda smiled. God you were a vision, crying and trembling underneath her, and asking her to hurt you while you told her you loved her. “I love you too, darling. Fuck. I love you so much.”

“Please make me cum, mama. Please let me cum with you inside me,” you cried.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby. Go ahead and play with yourself for me. Mama’s got you. I wanna watch you cum on my toys, honey. Show mama how much you love her present.”

You reached your hand back and played with your own clit. She started to spank you again. “Mama!” You shrieked as you fell apart under her. She continued to fuck you and spank you, grabbing your hands at the wrist when you moved to push her away.

“Shshsh, angel,” she soothed gently. “I’m just making sure I get it all out of you, baby. Just let mama take care of it, honey.” She took both of your hands, positioning them on either side of your ass. “Be a good girl and hold yourself open for mama, okay?”

She pulled out of you, leaning over to spit in your open asshole. She watched in awe as the muscle closed back up, leaving her spit inside of you. She’d waited years to see this. Had she had a bit of foresight, she would have brought a plug she could stuff you with after, making sure it stayed inside. Oh well. There was always next time.

She moved your hands away, spanking your ass one more time for good measure. You groaned.

She grabbed a cloth off the side table, carefully wiping your clean. You squirmed under her gentle touch, but she held you in place before gently laying you on your side.

Much to your chagrin, she climbed off the bed. “Mama…” you called after her, reaching out for her.

“It’s alright baby, I’m just gonna take this off and then I’ll get all cozy with you in there okay? Wait just a second for mama.”

You pouted for the whole ten seconds it took her to get the harness off. She crawled into bed next to you, pulling you under the blankets with her. You curled into her side while she gently played with your hair.

“You’ve never asked me to spank you before, little love. What was that about?” She asked kindly and nonjudgmentally.

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you replied hazily. “I was always too embarrassed to ask before, but… I’m not so scared anymore.”

She smiled and kissed your head. “I’m glad you asked,” she admitted. “I enjoyed it. And I’m so very proud of you for being so brave. You made mama braver too, you know.”

You cuddled into her closer, looking up at her from her chest. Your eyes begged a silent question.

She giggled. “Ah, I thought we were asking for what we want now? Now you’re getting all shy on me again?”

You whined. Asking for things was hard, and you thought you’d done quite enough for one day.

She chuckled at your stubbornness. “Do you wanna suckle for mama? You earned it little love, being so brave and asking mama for what you want. Go ahead sweet girl.”

“Thank you, mama,” you say before taking her nipple into your mouth.

“Of course, baby,” she whispered, kissing your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”

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